A bitter scent wafted through the air, the smell of wood not fashioned for burning being made kindling by those with no alternative. It clung to the already stifling atmosphere of a humbled borough situated deep in the bowels of Foundation, where the rays of the sun were held as more precious a luxury even than to those who walked beneath oft-grey skies upon the paved streets above. And where many had yet grown accustomed to the squallorous state of stench since the Dravanian assault some time past, one nose yet wrinkled with each reintroduction to it.
Garbed in clothes to mark status and adorned in emblems to mark valor, draped in classically fashionable blues, she came. Her naked familiarity, however, and the comfort with which she carried herself in this meek neighborhood might easily provoke the thought that this woman was no stranger among the poor and simple of the Holy See. Her distinctive physical attributes which sat atop her head and swayed behind her heels would confirm the presence of a woman who rose to claim her dignified garments, not one born to expect accolade within the honored echelons of Ishgard's military hierarchy.
Thick leather boots, blacker than night and polished to a near reflective sheen, stepped heavily down the avenue before coming to a halt in front of a shop which yet lay in some state of disrepair. Her eyes scanned the wreckage, lips curling in a small, sympathetic frown. Those same eyes, golden like the noon sun and slit like a prowling beast's, turned to meet the distant gaze of a nearby loiterer who looked too covetously upon the mild martial finery that lay upon her small frame. Several moments of an intense glare was enough to send the downtrodden fellow on his way, dissuaded from acting upon rakish instinct.
Peering once more toward the threshold of the shop, home to a smithy of no small renown, the small woman elected to not yet make entry; she was not to be alone in today's visit and it would likely be for the best that she stand post outside until the companion she awaited to introduce arrived. Not merely a foreigner, but a stripling boy he was; it would not do to have him become lost and pass his destination by. No, today she would await his approach, hail him at his arrival, and be greeted alongside him by their expectant hosts.
Gloved hands idly withdrew a parchment from her coat, unfolding it in short order and holding it up to read. The quartermaster's scribe had insisted, upon learning of her trip here, she deliver this letter to the esteemed Dunoix. Frowning at the aggressive and venomous tone directed toward a man she knew to be presently in a state of healing and recovery, she debated in her head whether she was obligated by duty to deliver the letter itself, or simply the abbreviated spirit of the demands for overdue product.
Garbed in clothes to mark status and adorned in emblems to mark valor, draped in classically fashionable blues, she came. Her naked familiarity, however, and the comfort with which she carried herself in this meek neighborhood might easily provoke the thought that this woman was no stranger among the poor and simple of the Holy See. Her distinctive physical attributes which sat atop her head and swayed behind her heels would confirm the presence of a woman who rose to claim her dignified garments, not one born to expect accolade within the honored echelons of Ishgard's military hierarchy.
Thick leather boots, blacker than night and polished to a near reflective sheen, stepped heavily down the avenue before coming to a halt in front of a shop which yet lay in some state of disrepair. Her eyes scanned the wreckage, lips curling in a small, sympathetic frown. Those same eyes, golden like the noon sun and slit like a prowling beast's, turned to meet the distant gaze of a nearby loiterer who looked too covetously upon the mild martial finery that lay upon her small frame. Several moments of an intense glare was enough to send the downtrodden fellow on his way, dissuaded from acting upon rakish instinct.
Peering once more toward the threshold of the shop, home to a smithy of no small renown, the small woman elected to not yet make entry; she was not to be alone in today's visit and it would likely be for the best that she stand post outside until the companion she awaited to introduce arrived. Not merely a foreigner, but a stripling boy he was; it would not do to have him become lost and pass his destination by. No, today she would await his approach, hail him at his arrival, and be greeted alongside him by their expectant hosts.
Gloved hands idly withdrew a parchment from her coat, unfolding it in short order and holding it up to read. The quartermaster's scribe had insisted, upon learning of her trip here, she deliver this letter to the esteemed Dunoix. Frowning at the aggressive and venomous tone directed toward a man she knew to be presently in a state of healing and recovery, she debated in her head whether she was obligated by duty to deliver the letter itself, or simply the abbreviated spirit of the demands for overdue product.
V'aleera's Wiki - https://wiki.ffxiv-roleplayers.com/pages...eera_Lhuil
V'aleera's Tumblr - valeeralhuil.tumblr.com
V'aleera's Tumblr - valeeralhuil.tumblr.com
