Roen shoved the letter into her belt pouch, blowing on her fingers to warm them before sliding them back into the protective shelter of her woolen gloves. The ever-present Coerthan chill seemed especially intent on seeping through her armor this night, and the flickering brazier flames that danced violently in the wind seemed unwilling to lend their warmth even as she sat close enough to to read the letter.
She dared not linger at the Forgotten Knight, not when so many authority figures frequented the inn. And the fact that it served as a gathering place to many adventurers on cold nights like this, it would also be likely that those looking for her would search the tavern. The dark alleyways of The Brume, on the other hand... those the champions of the Holy See seemed less inclined to roam.
It reminded the paladin of the last city that she had fled, Ul’dah, where one had to take care to walk through the backstreets of Pearl Lane for the fear of being robbed or becoming the target of extortion by the Brass Blades. She had left the Jewel and all the troubles there behind, to find a new start here in Ishgard.
And yet here she was, again hiding her face and ducking away from the eyes of the law. Only this time she knew she had done nothing wrong. Neither had Khadai. But the fact that there were armed men searching for them both had returned her to that familiar feeling of unease. Like many outsiders, she had learned quickly that in any inquiry that even hinted at some Dravanian threat, the Inquisition’s unforgiving justice was soon to follow. Steering clear of any disfavor from the Church was an easy lesson learned by any new outsiders arriving in Ishgard.
But what exactly was the trouble? The part of her that still demanded fairness and justice -- this the paladin reluctantly acknowledged with some irony -- wanted to know what spurred on this investigation.
“They were looking for those associated with the events at that garrison, Dragonhead,†Khadai had told her. What little he had been able to learn while eluding his pursuers at least gave her some direction in which to start her probing. She wanted to send a missive to Ser Tournes, her former commanding officer and knight-captain, to ask him if he knew anything of this. But Khadai was quick to remind her that the Elezen knight, like every other devoted Ishgardian soldier, would be beholden to whatever authority was seeking them out.
Roen shifted in her seat, the old wooden crate beneath her creaking with the weight of her armor. Perhaps she could ask her current patron, Lord Theron, for assistance. Not only was he a personal friend of Ser Tournes, but he had also entrusted the education of his adapted Elezen son to her care. And he was part of the Ishgardian nobility besides.
Would he sympathize for or against mine and Khadai’s predicament?
Roen let out a long frustrated exhale as she extended her hands toward the flames, casually glancing to those also gathered near the fire. Most of them did not meet her eyes; many who sought the warmth of these outdoor fires had nowhere else to go. Roen imagined that their minds were already preoccupied with not freezing to death through the night. Still, a few men tossed a look or two her way, and perhaps it was the fire’s light etching harsh lines upon their face, or their shadows that wavered chaotically behind them that seemed to turn their gaze into glares. She lowered her head and pulled the hood a bit lower over her eyes.
Perhaps I too should have decided to stay out in the country as Khadai had chosen to do. Roen frowned at the memory of it, though a part of her did not know what vexed her more: that she chose to remain in Ishgard in a futile attempt to discern the truth of the matter regarding this Dragonhead investigation, or the lingering thought that Khadai was planning to head out deeper into Dravania to continue on the mission that had brought him to Eorzea in the first place. She had gotten nowhere on the former, meeting either uncooperative silence or dead ends, and on the latter… Dravania was a dangerous place, one that the Au Ra might get hopelessly lost in, yet again. The latter was not what was causing her disquiet, Roen told herself with a snort.
The paladin rose to her feet, the quickness of her movement betraying her annoyance. She ignored a few more glances thrown her way.
Perhaps it was best that this summons came now rather than later. Despite the fact that Roen had only known her for a better part of a sun, this Captain Mirke seemed an honest sort, very matter-of-fact in her answers with an unpretentious personality. She also seemed to not mind answering many of the paladin’s questions regarding the rest of Eorzea; the Miqo’te seemed quite knowledgeable when it came to the political tension between the Limsa Lominsa and Ul’dah. Considering her own knowledge on the matter, Roen could not help but press the subject a bit to glean more recent news from the Miqo’te. The fact that Captain Mirke was also an Ala Mhigan with strong opinions regarding the fate of those who shared her ancestry… the paladin did find herself drawn into the conversation with this Maelstrom Captain.
Roen shook off what snow had gathered from her hood, before she marched up the stairs leading back up to the Forgotten Knight. She was thankful that the innkeeper was either sympathetic to his patrons who sought privacy, or too busy to get involved in the first place. He accepted her letter addressed to Capt. Mirke without even a second look her way and tucked it under the counter.
Careful not to be seen, the paladin then made her way toward the Pillars. It was against her better judgement, but she had to at least give her wards some notice of her prolonged absence yet again. Lord Theron had been a more than generous in allowing her some freedom to attend to personal affairs and even taking some freelance jobs now and then. Perhaps the nobleman also suspected that his Elezen son was taking to the lessons in arms quite slowly and reluctantly. That was to say, not at all.
As the cobbled streets began to ascend toward the more polished and majestic part of the city, Roen withdraw a pearl from her pouch and inserted it into her ear.
“Khadai,†she called out quietly. “Captain Mirke has hired me to guide her back out through the Western Highlands in search of her crew. I have asked her to meet me at Falcon's Nest in a few suns. I was wondering... if you would accompany me?â€
She dared not linger at the Forgotten Knight, not when so many authority figures frequented the inn. And the fact that it served as a gathering place to many adventurers on cold nights like this, it would also be likely that those looking for her would search the tavern. The dark alleyways of The Brume, on the other hand... those the champions of the Holy See seemed less inclined to roam.
It reminded the paladin of the last city that she had fled, Ul’dah, where one had to take care to walk through the backstreets of Pearl Lane for the fear of being robbed or becoming the target of extortion by the Brass Blades. She had left the Jewel and all the troubles there behind, to find a new start here in Ishgard.
And yet here she was, again hiding her face and ducking away from the eyes of the law. Only this time she knew she had done nothing wrong. Neither had Khadai. But the fact that there were armed men searching for them both had returned her to that familiar feeling of unease. Like many outsiders, she had learned quickly that in any inquiry that even hinted at some Dravanian threat, the Inquisition’s unforgiving justice was soon to follow. Steering clear of any disfavor from the Church was an easy lesson learned by any new outsiders arriving in Ishgard.
But what exactly was the trouble? The part of her that still demanded fairness and justice -- this the paladin reluctantly acknowledged with some irony -- wanted to know what spurred on this investigation.
“They were looking for those associated with the events at that garrison, Dragonhead,†Khadai had told her. What little he had been able to learn while eluding his pursuers at least gave her some direction in which to start her probing. She wanted to send a missive to Ser Tournes, her former commanding officer and knight-captain, to ask him if he knew anything of this. But Khadai was quick to remind her that the Elezen knight, like every other devoted Ishgardian soldier, would be beholden to whatever authority was seeking them out.
Roen shifted in her seat, the old wooden crate beneath her creaking with the weight of her armor. Perhaps she could ask her current patron, Lord Theron, for assistance. Not only was he a personal friend of Ser Tournes, but he had also entrusted the education of his adapted Elezen son to her care. And he was part of the Ishgardian nobility besides.
Would he sympathize for or against mine and Khadai’s predicament?
Roen let out a long frustrated exhale as she extended her hands toward the flames, casually glancing to those also gathered near the fire. Most of them did not meet her eyes; many who sought the warmth of these outdoor fires had nowhere else to go. Roen imagined that their minds were already preoccupied with not freezing to death through the night. Still, a few men tossed a look or two her way, and perhaps it was the fire’s light etching harsh lines upon their face, or their shadows that wavered chaotically behind them that seemed to turn their gaze into glares. She lowered her head and pulled the hood a bit lower over her eyes.
Perhaps I too should have decided to stay out in the country as Khadai had chosen to do. Roen frowned at the memory of it, though a part of her did not know what vexed her more: that she chose to remain in Ishgard in a futile attempt to discern the truth of the matter regarding this Dragonhead investigation, or the lingering thought that Khadai was planning to head out deeper into Dravania to continue on the mission that had brought him to Eorzea in the first place. She had gotten nowhere on the former, meeting either uncooperative silence or dead ends, and on the latter… Dravania was a dangerous place, one that the Au Ra might get hopelessly lost in, yet again. The latter was not what was causing her disquiet, Roen told herself with a snort.
The paladin rose to her feet, the quickness of her movement betraying her annoyance. She ignored a few more glances thrown her way.
Perhaps it was best that this summons came now rather than later. Despite the fact that Roen had only known her for a better part of a sun, this Captain Mirke seemed an honest sort, very matter-of-fact in her answers with an unpretentious personality. She also seemed to not mind answering many of the paladin’s questions regarding the rest of Eorzea; the Miqo’te seemed quite knowledgeable when it came to the political tension between the Limsa Lominsa and Ul’dah. Considering her own knowledge on the matter, Roen could not help but press the subject a bit to glean more recent news from the Miqo’te. The fact that Captain Mirke was also an Ala Mhigan with strong opinions regarding the fate of those who shared her ancestry… the paladin did find herself drawn into the conversation with this Maelstrom Captain.
Roen shook off what snow had gathered from her hood, before she marched up the stairs leading back up to the Forgotten Knight. She was thankful that the innkeeper was either sympathetic to his patrons who sought privacy, or too busy to get involved in the first place. He accepted her letter addressed to Capt. Mirke without even a second look her way and tucked it under the counter.
Careful not to be seen, the paladin then made her way toward the Pillars. It was against her better judgement, but she had to at least give her wards some notice of her prolonged absence yet again. Lord Theron had been a more than generous in allowing her some freedom to attend to personal affairs and even taking some freelance jobs now and then. Perhaps the nobleman also suspected that his Elezen son was taking to the lessons in arms quite slowly and reluctantly. That was to say, not at all.
As the cobbled streets began to ascend toward the more polished and majestic part of the city, Roen withdraw a pearl from her pouch and inserted it into her ear.
“Khadai,†she called out quietly. “Captain Mirke has hired me to guide her back out through the Western Highlands in search of her crew. I have asked her to meet me at Falcon's Nest in a few suns. I was wondering... if you would accompany me?â€
