this exercise in futility is finally done, thank the makers.
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ExpositionYou suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly as your hand grips the smooth brass doorknob and bid the door open. You warily enter the room, a small comely affair in rural La Noscea, closing the door behind you with a quiet click. The target in question is here, as arranged by a very delicate series correspondence; one of which resulted in an aspiring Flame recruit having a fair portion of his face, well, melted. You wouldn't dare show any signs of nerves though, you're too well trained for that. You set the stack of papers on the table before you and claim your seat confidently.
Your mission was information retrieval only, nothing near as deadly as would normally be expected of an adventurer of your standing. Yet it came in a sealed envelope, passed to you beneath the table with whispered warnings. “You may want to... invest in some fire materia.â€
The Miqo'te sits across from you in a large, padded chair. He seems calm, passive, even harmless as he smiles eagerly at you. You catch sight of his superfluously fluffy tail in your peripherals, wagging in affront to his feline lineage. His considerable ears perk up as cool, dual-toned eyes scan you with an unnerving preciseness from beneath a pair of thin rimmed silver spectacles. You can't help but suspect the aura of childishness about him is a front.
As if sensing your discomfort, the young man sits up a little straighter, setting his hands neatly upon the table in front of him. He leans forward ever so slightly, raising an eyebrow inquisitively as his his smile twists itself into an impish smirk...
“Shall we begin?â€
You feel relived as you write down the last line, your task complete. It certainly wasn't something you were expecting. You eye the young man, your gaze lingering only a moment before you stand and nod respectfully, proclaiming this interview was complete.
The Miqo'te smiles as assuredly as he always does. “That's all then? Should I expect you back in another week with another round of questions? Or perhaps with your report they'll send you back with a blade?†He chuckles and bounces to his feet.
It's completely against protocol but... you assure him you won't be back. His eyes light up, grinning from ear to ear and he bids you off with a courtly bow.
You depart the ramshackle inn, reflecting on your mission. It was a handsome amount of coin for such a simple report. His final question still lingers in the back of your mind, and you wonder if you will indeed be the last to come in search of him. A mission is a mission though, it's unlike you to question orders.
Yet here you stand, simply staring at your chocobo with a fragile grip on the fruit of your labor. It's not as if anything your wrote was particularly damning... And why would it matter if you did? It's just a report, it's not as if you signed off on a death warrant. As you begin to gather your resolve though, a swift gust snatches the stack of papers from your hands, sending them fluttering and soaring in all directions. You snatch at the air feebly in attempt to salvage a page or two, but the wind spirits them away as quickly as it came.
You howl in frustration. All that effort! Gone! Even if the damnable cat hadn't fled the scene yet it was doubtful he would assist in covering up your stupid mistake. Hesitation has cost you a job. You've never failed a job before...
K'dath smiles from his rooftop perch, giggling as Garuda-egi roosts on his shoulder. He teases her plumage with a finger, gingerly plucking a slip of paper from her beak. “What can I say?†he purrs to himself, dismissing the summon with a snap hand movement. “Mischief is a guilty pleasure...â€
Your mission was information retrieval only, nothing near as deadly as would normally be expected of an adventurer of your standing. Yet it came in a sealed envelope, passed to you beneath the table with whispered warnings. “You may want to... invest in some fire materia.â€
The Miqo'te sits across from you in a large, padded chair. He seems calm, passive, even harmless as he smiles eagerly at you. You catch sight of his superfluously fluffy tail in your peripherals, wagging in affront to his feline lineage. His considerable ears perk up as cool, dual-toned eyes scan you with an unnerving preciseness from beneath a pair of thin rimmed silver spectacles. You can't help but suspect the aura of childishness about him is a front.
As if sensing your discomfort, the young man sits up a little straighter, setting his hands neatly upon the table in front of him. He leans forward ever so slightly, raising an eyebrow inquisitively as his his smile twists itself into an impish smirk...
“Shall we begin?â€
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Part 1: The Basics1.What is your full name?
“K'dath. Adventurer, Dreamer, and Scholar... momentarily at your mercy.â€
2.Where and when were you born?
“I was born some suns ago in some sun-strangled village in the desert wastes. Does it matter?â€
3.Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)
“Some interchangeable pair of breeders. A Nuhn and his mate for the night, nothing more or less.â€
4.Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?
“A few. They weren't important. As interchangeable and self-obsessed as their parents. If you mean to go interview any random K in the desert next, tell them to go to hell for me. They probably deserve it.â€
5.Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.
“I break my bed where I happen to be. Lingering any one place too long causes the senses to acclimate, and you'll miss the finer details. Though I find myself partial to Limsa Lominsa's shores. The weather is well, the fish are abundant, and my favorite object of research only a stone's throw from the city's gate.â€
6.What is your occupation?
“Do you mean to say what occupies me? My research, of course. I assume that's why you're here, no?†His eyes light up with the sort of excitement you'd expect of a much younger boy. He chuckles, a warm, lighthearted snicker as he gauges your reaction with interest.
7.Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.
“I assume this is a 'strictly for the record' type thing?†He leans back, crossing one leg over the other, leaving his hands as they are on the table. He seemed to be formulating his answer very carefully...
“As you've doubtlessly observed I am Miqo'te, male of nineteen summers, approximately five fulms, two ilms, nintey-nine ponze. Light ash blond hair, short and unkempt, but braided about the sides. Complete heterochromia, consisting of one sky blue eye and one country green eye. Typical tribal eye markings and a pair of crude blue stripes tattooed on either side about the cheeks. Typical dress consists of practical leather wrought outfits, with comfort secondary and style a... near third. No scars or missing extremities of interest.â€
8.To which social class do you belong?
“The insouciant one? I sojourn for a higher purpose. My research is my own, and I've no interest in selling it.â€
9.Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?
He snorts,tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows in a scoffing manner.
“It's hardly good form to just pass information like that about. Do give me some credit...â€
10. Are you right- or left-handed?
“Ambidextrous,â€he holds his hands up and wiggles all his fingers, in case you needed a demonstration.
11. What does your voice sound like?
“An intriguing question. I suppose I am more of the soft spoken type. Pray, tell me of your observations? It's rather hard to judge one's own voice.â€
You're inclined to agree, his voice is rather reserved and quiet with a soothing quality to its softness, not unlike a cat's purr. His expressions are colored by the youthful tone of one scantly out of boyhood. The shade of a proper Eorzean accent ghosts over his conversations, but some words he seems to struggle articulating, falling back on a rougher dialect you can't quite place.
12. What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?
“Interesting. Fascinating. And... Abscond. All critical vernacular for what occupies me.â€
13. What do you have in your pockets?
He fiddles about in his pocket for a moment, dropping a handful of tin coins, scraps of paper, some half-eaten pastry, and what appeared to be a silver key upon the table. The key is bound with leather cording that seems to imply its usual place is worn about the neck. The summoner doesn't elaborate on the contents and looks to you for the next question.
14. Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?
“I'd have to ask you to define strange, annoying, and quirky for me. Subjective terms, they are. I believe that everyone has unique behaviors, how others perceive them is their own accord... Unless you'd fancy to account for my ventures in sesquipedalian loquaciousness.†He chuckles, his expression daring you define it without looking it up. Yes. You.
“K'dath. Adventurer, Dreamer, and Scholar... momentarily at your mercy.â€
2.Where and when were you born?
“I was born some suns ago in some sun-strangled village in the desert wastes. Does it matter?â€
3.Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)
“Some interchangeable pair of breeders. A Nuhn and his mate for the night, nothing more or less.â€
4.Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?
“A few. They weren't important. As interchangeable and self-obsessed as their parents. If you mean to go interview any random K in the desert next, tell them to go to hell for me. They probably deserve it.â€
5.Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.
“I break my bed where I happen to be. Lingering any one place too long causes the senses to acclimate, and you'll miss the finer details. Though I find myself partial to Limsa Lominsa's shores. The weather is well, the fish are abundant, and my favorite object of research only a stone's throw from the city's gate.â€
6.What is your occupation?
“Do you mean to say what occupies me? My research, of course. I assume that's why you're here, no?†His eyes light up with the sort of excitement you'd expect of a much younger boy. He chuckles, a warm, lighthearted snicker as he gauges your reaction with interest.
7.Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.
“I assume this is a 'strictly for the record' type thing?†He leans back, crossing one leg over the other, leaving his hands as they are on the table. He seemed to be formulating his answer very carefully...
“As you've doubtlessly observed I am Miqo'te, male of nineteen summers, approximately five fulms, two ilms, nintey-nine ponze. Light ash blond hair, short and unkempt, but braided about the sides. Complete heterochromia, consisting of one sky blue eye and one country green eye. Typical tribal eye markings and a pair of crude blue stripes tattooed on either side about the cheeks. Typical dress consists of practical leather wrought outfits, with comfort secondary and style a... near third. No scars or missing extremities of interest.â€
8.To which social class do you belong?
“The insouciant one? I sojourn for a higher purpose. My research is my own, and I've no interest in selling it.â€
9.Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?
He snorts,tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows in a scoffing manner.
“It's hardly good form to just pass information like that about. Do give me some credit...â€
10. Are you right- or left-handed?
“Ambidextrous,â€he holds his hands up and wiggles all his fingers, in case you needed a demonstration.
11. What does your voice sound like?
“An intriguing question. I suppose I am more of the soft spoken type. Pray, tell me of your observations? It's rather hard to judge one's own voice.â€
You're inclined to agree, his voice is rather reserved and quiet with a soothing quality to its softness, not unlike a cat's purr. His expressions are colored by the youthful tone of one scantly out of boyhood. The shade of a proper Eorzean accent ghosts over his conversations, but some words he seems to struggle articulating, falling back on a rougher dialect you can't quite place.
12. What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?
“Interesting. Fascinating. And... Abscond. All critical vernacular for what occupies me.â€
13. What do you have in your pockets?
He fiddles about in his pocket for a moment, dropping a handful of tin coins, scraps of paper, some half-eaten pastry, and what appeared to be a silver key upon the table. The key is bound with leather cording that seems to imply its usual place is worn about the neck. The summoner doesn't elaborate on the contents and looks to you for the next question.
14. Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?
“I'd have to ask you to define strange, annoying, and quirky for me. Subjective terms, they are. I believe that everyone has unique behaviors, how others perceive them is their own accord... Unless you'd fancy to account for my ventures in sesquipedalian loquaciousness.†He chuckles, his expression daring you define it without looking it up. Yes. You.
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Part 2: Growing Up15. How would you describe your childhood in general?
“Poor.â€
16. What is your earliest memory?
“Something to the effect of being dragged by my ankles, face down in the boiling sand by one of my peers or siblings. The first in a long line of such incidents.â€
17. How much schooling have you had?
“My formal education is... lacking. I am self-taught in most aspects, or otherwise divinely touched.â€
18. Did you enjoy school?
“I enjoy the atmosphere a university abides, but you wouldn't find me fixture at one. I prefer to know my subject matter more intimately.â€
19. Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?
“I anticipated you'd ask something like this, though later rather than sooner. I'm afraid I'll simply have to with-hold this information as well. Trifling thing, really, but I can't have anyone wondering up to the ones who have so generously opted to share their knowledge with me. They are sorts to prefer privacy and discretion.â€
20. While growing up, did you haveany role models? If so, describe them.
“Hm. Hard to say. From a young age I knew I did not belong... However, I greatly admired the adventurers that occasionally graced our homes. I aspired to that freedom and the purpose that drove them.â€
21. While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?
“Not well... Have I not made this obvious?â€
22. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
“As a small child? I wanted to be Nuhn, as that was what all young boys encouraged each other to strive towards. It's simply how things were... Upon reaching adolescence, however, I realized this was decidedly not how I was... Beyond that, most of my aspirations extended to merely reaching sixteen summers with little regards for what I would do upon attaining it.â€
23. As a child, what were your favorite activities?
“I liked to walkout into the desert and pick flowers. Flowers in the desert are very rare, but very beautiful... and also, tasty.â€
24. As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?
“Prevalently? Cowardice. I was far smaller and less physically blessed than my peers. I often deferred to hiding rather than interacting with them. Other than that I was very precocious.â€
25. As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?
“I would assume recounting tales of being dragged about and beaten by other children didn't tip you off? I was a runt, pure and simple. No one wished to associate with me... openly.â€
26. When and with whom was your
first kiss?
He waves a hand dismissively and rolls his eyes. His gaze is off to the side and slightly canted down, a rather out of character behavior compared to his usual excitement. “His name...†he huffs a heavy sigh and then turns his attention back to you, his expression a little less genuine than before, his tone sharper and a bit more tense. “His name isn't important. It was the summer after the moon saw fit to crash down on our heads. Youthful passion and the face of the Apocalypse are known to breed mistakes.â€
27. Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?
His eyes flicker dangerously for half a moment, narrowing slightly. “No. And I find this line of questioning nonsensical. Would you mind diverting it to something of importance?â€
28. If you are a supernatural being,tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities. If you are just a normal human, describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today.
His smirk reappears with an uneasy chuckle. “I guess I brought that on myself. You go right for the throat don't you? It would be terribly dull for me to continue to insist upon silence... A small story, then. I assume you have nowhere else to be?â€
He lays his grimoire to the side, setting his hands back upon the table where you might easily see them. “I've rambled quite long enough though. I see you still have a formidable stack of questions to ask me, and I'd rather like to have you out of my hair, charming as your company is...â€
“Poor.â€
16. What is your earliest memory?
“Something to the effect of being dragged by my ankles, face down in the boiling sand by one of my peers or siblings. The first in a long line of such incidents.â€
17. How much schooling have you had?
“My formal education is... lacking. I am self-taught in most aspects, or otherwise divinely touched.â€
18. Did you enjoy school?
“I enjoy the atmosphere a university abides, but you wouldn't find me fixture at one. I prefer to know my subject matter more intimately.â€
19. Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?
“I anticipated you'd ask something like this, though later rather than sooner. I'm afraid I'll simply have to with-hold this information as well. Trifling thing, really, but I can't have anyone wondering up to the ones who have so generously opted to share their knowledge with me. They are sorts to prefer privacy and discretion.â€
20. While growing up, did you haveany role models? If so, describe them.
“Hm. Hard to say. From a young age I knew I did not belong... However, I greatly admired the adventurers that occasionally graced our homes. I aspired to that freedom and the purpose that drove them.â€
21. While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?
“Not well... Have I not made this obvious?â€
22. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
“As a small child? I wanted to be Nuhn, as that was what all young boys encouraged each other to strive towards. It's simply how things were... Upon reaching adolescence, however, I realized this was decidedly not how I was... Beyond that, most of my aspirations extended to merely reaching sixteen summers with little regards for what I would do upon attaining it.â€
23. As a child, what were your favorite activities?
“I liked to walkout into the desert and pick flowers. Flowers in the desert are very rare, but very beautiful... and also, tasty.â€
24. As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?
“Prevalently? Cowardice. I was far smaller and less physically blessed than my peers. I often deferred to hiding rather than interacting with them. Other than that I was very precocious.â€
25. As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?
“I would assume recounting tales of being dragged about and beaten by other children didn't tip you off? I was a runt, pure and simple. No one wished to associate with me... openly.â€
26. When and with whom was your
first kiss?
He waves a hand dismissively and rolls his eyes. His gaze is off to the side and slightly canted down, a rather out of character behavior compared to his usual excitement. “His name...†he huffs a heavy sigh and then turns his attention back to you, his expression a little less genuine than before, his tone sharper and a bit more tense. “His name isn't important. It was the summer after the moon saw fit to crash down on our heads. Youthful passion and the face of the Apocalypse are known to breed mistakes.â€
27. Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?
His eyes flicker dangerously for half a moment, narrowing slightly. “No. And I find this line of questioning nonsensical. Would you mind diverting it to something of importance?â€
28. If you are a supernatural being,tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities. If you are just a normal human, describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today.
His smirk reappears with an uneasy chuckle. “I guess I brought that on myself. You go right for the throat don't you? It would be terribly dull for me to continue to insist upon silence... A small story, then. I assume you have nowhere else to be?â€
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-----STORY CUT----He breathes deeply, unfastening the book belted about his waist. He sets it on the table with a solid sounding thump, glancing at you only briefly as he undoes the strange mechanism which binds the tome shut. The cover creaks ominously as he opens the book to its very first page. It consisted of a grainy and haphazard sketch of what appeared to be Amalj'aa, and a sampling of an unknown glyphic language running vertically along the page.
"The images were crude, of craven gods abandoned by upright men and left to the tribes of beasts..." he read aloud, with intent. “Before I cast out from my tribe, much of the territory we knew was shared with Amalj'aa marauders. They were not a particularly friendly sort, but kept to themselves most often. Or at least well away from us if not the hapless traveling merchants. More often than not the altercations between our kinds were the direct fault of Miqo'te going where they knew they aught not.
“Something I myself am not innocent of, as I was a precocious and adventurous adolescent. I went into lands that were marked by the beastmen to observe them. Several times I watched them in secret from beyond a dune of sand, watching them recount the spoils of their raids and brawl over its division. I took extensive notes during these forays, as you can see here. I'd been cautioned many times that the Amalj'aa were brutal and savage, scarcely more than bloodthirsy drakes who fancied to walk upright.
“I wasn't inclined to believe as such though. In my stealthy observations I learned much about the tribe of the Inferno. What seemed like nonsensical brutality to the unclean observer was a fascinating hierarchical society not unlike our own. They were organized and dreadfully clever. The greatest of the warriors commanded the finest armaments and wore the bloodiest trophies. The true elite however was the Blood Auger. While I observed lancers, archers, brawlers, and swordsmen among the Amalj'aa dismember each over affairs of strength and honor, never once did I see a talon raised to the magic-weaver among them. He was garbed unlike the others, a mantle of red fabric draped about him. The snarling always fell quiet when he came to the collect the war spoils. I found it strange at the time, he took only crystals from the wealth they amassed.â€
He turns through several pages of drawings and near illegibly scrawled notes. There are images of the beast tribe drawn with a morbidly fascinating level of detail. There's sketches of the beastmen drawn in scale to the objects around them, with notes on average height, weight, and age. Beyond the more strictly anatomical ones are depictions of their homes, their weapons, and even the trophies and treasures he spoke of. The sketches reflect the events he described with great clarity, from rather artistic renderings of the scalefolk at a temporary peace, to the gory and vicious brawls that often ended in grotesque trophies for the winner. The younger K'dath even seen fit to smear a bit of red pigment on a drawing of a wounded Amalj'aa being left in the sand to perish as his kind moved on without him.
He turns another page, tapping the illustration. Though his expression is calm, tension hangs about him as he subtly grits his teeth. It's an illustration of an ordinary crystal with notes all about it, as you may expect of a field journal belonging to nearly and craft person. Closer observation of the page betrays one of the notes in question appears to be written from a different hand. The letters are even worse than the Miqo'te's and can't be made out at all. Yet something about looking at the jagged blacken scrawl ties your guy in knots.
“In fact, I wondered with a near-fatal curiosity what became of the hoards the lizardmen had, till the day I saw them gathering together in yet unobserved numbers. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them gathered together, flowing in from all four winds, and many with great sacks of tribute. One night I resolved to bring a sketchbook along with me that I might capture the scenes of such treasure as a trophy from my expeditions.
“The night in question was warmer than usual, and as I neared the encampment I could swear I'd stepped into the seventh hell itself. As I crested the dune which I'd made my usual perch, I beheld a rather different site than in previous times. The camp was cleaned and orderly with no signs of the loot they had hoarded over the past moons. And against all logic... I crept closer. Something in my foolish, adolescent mind believed that I was actually a very tricky kitty and not that the beastfolk had simply been ignoring me till this very night.
“Nearer to the camp I saw the Amalj'aa gathered around what appeared to be some strange totem. It was like no thing I had seen before, a demon of some form with massive horns sloping upwards, as if to rip the heavens. It was hewn of wood, a rare commodity in the wastes, and seemed to have been crafted with great care one would not expect of the massive lizardmen. At the foot were the crystals of fire I'd noted only passively before. There had to be thousands, though they were small, certainly not enough to call forth any primal in his full glory. Each one glimmered with a dull ember of Inferno magic, a catalyst waiting, begging even, to go off at any moment. I was shocked you understand, when I saw one amongst their numbers approach the effigy with torch in hand.
“He slurred some guttural chant I couldn't comprehend, then put the demonic idol to the torch. It set aflame brilliantly to the rasping cheers of the onlookers. The flames surged upward with an almost sentience, a tower of flame so dizzying and scintillating it almost turned the night to day as its tongues scraped the sky. After the moment of resounding cries the beastfolk approached one at a time, casting coins and other riches into the flames. It was then it occurred to me I was watching some terrible, pagan rite to their brutal god of flame. They burnt everything. All they had raided. All they had hoarded. Everything they had killed for and died for went into the raging pyre.
“I observed the procession of offerings, and I beheld the Auger giving blessing to each one. The larger the offering paid, the more extravagant and fevered was the grace. With a broad and rusted blade he'd cut them, the more the coin the bigger the gash, and permitted them to offer their blood to the flames. And when enough tribute was not brought forth, the miserly beast responsible would be hurled into the embers as well. They were cut and marred, reshaped and charred, for the glory of the Lord of the Inferno. When all had paid their dues to the fire god, the bloodied priest launched into a fevered sermon, in a language known only to the touched I presume, for to me it sounded only like gibberish. Then they dispersed, as if no great culling had ever happened, and left the idol to smolder.â€
He turns the page of the beaten grimoire and taps the illustration on the next page. The idol of Ifrit set ablaze was surrounded by several smaller glyphs and some hastily written notes. The page across was one massive glyph with many intricate details and complex geometries. Yet a portion of it appeared to be missing.
“It was...strange. Grotesque in comparison to the rituals of the Twelve. And yet... something about it was enchanting. I remained at the site until long after the flames were quenched, inching closer as the heat and light gradually diminished. I did my best to record the strange markings about the ritual grounds. Many of them were damaged by the fire, others completely obliterated. I found them curious, but far less interesting than the cooling pile of tribute so near by. I had no sense of what I should have been looking for at the time...
“Nor any sense at all, I suppose as I made my way into the camp itself. My interest in the academic trophy I had already compiled here was dwindling fast in favor of what may have possibly survived the fire. Golden coins that may have escaped the blaze would buy me respect with people as simple as my own. Even more prestigious if I could recover a bone or weapon from one of the felled beastkin. Nothing earned you a place in the good graces of my tribe like slaying an enemy and bringing back a treasure...
“Before I knew it I was on my knees before the idol's burnt husk. I felt... uneasy, as if the gaze of Ifrit was upon me now that I was strewn upon his altar. I suppose it's how a sacrificial lamb feels, staring up at a graven image of our gods. As I'd feared, nearly everything was ashes or too warped by flame to be salvageable. I cursed the wretched Amalj'aa and near-to cursed their god when a small glint caught my eye amongst the smoke and rubble.
“I burned my hands terribly like an imbecile as I cleared away a still flickering bit of wood. Nestled at the base of the effigy was the purest, finest, most beautiful ruby I'd ever laid eyes upon. It was stunning, and even in the dim light it was breath taking. Utterly devoid of even the smallest flaw. It was worth a fortune surely. The Auger must have thought it a crystal was all I could surmise of it then. Just holding it in my hands... I was filled with a sense of... I can't even describe it. There's no word for it in your language, or my people's language for that matter. It was hope and purpose for me, incarnated into a jewel I held in my hand...
“For all of a few moments before I was snatched up by a snarling beastman. It was a type of terror you simply can't fathom unless you are Miqo'te. I was hoisted by my tail into the air amidst the smog and shaken viciously. I was terrified... more than that, I was in a waking nightmare, paralyzed and unable to scream as my lungs filled with smoke. I was rattled and disoriented, the world tumbling before me as all of my senses vanished into a warm red haze as what I would assume is unconsciousness trying to claim me.
“I was certain I was dead, even as I lashed out with all my will to live. I was already dead, and the horrible burning sensation coursing through me was my life bleeding out of my on Ifrit's Pyre. There was a great, terrible light that blinded me, and then the sensation of falling replaced all notion of pain.
“What happened next or how long the events took to transpire is a great mystery to me. My eyes still throbbed when I came to and beheld the Blood Auger himself before me. Dead. Lying sprawled upon the sand with what appeared as if a great animal had simply torn away a chunk of nearly half his upper body. The wounds however were smooth, baring no mark of tooth, and more importantly... cauterized. I still remember looking down into the half of his face still in tact. I looked into his remaining eye, such an evil construct, for what seemed like an eternity. And I felt a latent heat coursing through my veins. It felt... Good.
“I was not fool enough to tarry so long a second time though. I collected my book and the ruby that near cost me my life, and beat a hasty retreat before the Blood Auger's flock would stir and put me down for sure. I was home before the sun crested high enough to cast a shadow on the village, and I dared not whisper a word of what had bore witness to. I hid my notes, and my prized ruby as well, as I'd found myself with a certain fondness for it too overwhelming to hawk it to any traveling merchant.
“I was...inspired thereafter, touched even, to pursue magic. It earned meno fondness from my people, so xenophobic and mired in tradition that they are. But I no longer cared... It was as if a veil was lifted from my eyes, and I was suddenly seeing the world for the first time. It was something more vast and incomprehensible than I'd ever been given reason to think before.â€
He closes the tome with a heavy thud from the cover, ignoring any attempts you make to read it further. He smiles, clicking his tongue against his teeth as an amused huff escapes him. “So tell me, do you think that fateful night I was 'tempered' by Ifrit? That is what your employers sought, is it not? 'Is he a threat?' they whisper and pour over notes about a summoner not crushed beneath their thumb.â€
He barks out an abrupt laugh at your expression and shakes his head with an apathetic shrug. “Living amongst a small tribe, closed off from the world, taught me the value of knowledge. I learned that the pursuit of objective truth is the one, and the only, righteous endeavor. Everything else is relative. Seeking to regulate the will of the world to a neatly defined code of conduct is not only impossible, it is the most opprobrious act of hubris ever dreamt up by mankind.â€
"The images were crude, of craven gods abandoned by upright men and left to the tribes of beasts..." he read aloud, with intent. “Before I cast out from my tribe, much of the territory we knew was shared with Amalj'aa marauders. They were not a particularly friendly sort, but kept to themselves most often. Or at least well away from us if not the hapless traveling merchants. More often than not the altercations between our kinds were the direct fault of Miqo'te going where they knew they aught not.
“Something I myself am not innocent of, as I was a precocious and adventurous adolescent. I went into lands that were marked by the beastmen to observe them. Several times I watched them in secret from beyond a dune of sand, watching them recount the spoils of their raids and brawl over its division. I took extensive notes during these forays, as you can see here. I'd been cautioned many times that the Amalj'aa were brutal and savage, scarcely more than bloodthirsy drakes who fancied to walk upright.
“I wasn't inclined to believe as such though. In my stealthy observations I learned much about the tribe of the Inferno. What seemed like nonsensical brutality to the unclean observer was a fascinating hierarchical society not unlike our own. They were organized and dreadfully clever. The greatest of the warriors commanded the finest armaments and wore the bloodiest trophies. The true elite however was the Blood Auger. While I observed lancers, archers, brawlers, and swordsmen among the Amalj'aa dismember each over affairs of strength and honor, never once did I see a talon raised to the magic-weaver among them. He was garbed unlike the others, a mantle of red fabric draped about him. The snarling always fell quiet when he came to the collect the war spoils. I found it strange at the time, he took only crystals from the wealth they amassed.â€
He turns through several pages of drawings and near illegibly scrawled notes. There are images of the beast tribe drawn with a morbidly fascinating level of detail. There's sketches of the beastmen drawn in scale to the objects around them, with notes on average height, weight, and age. Beyond the more strictly anatomical ones are depictions of their homes, their weapons, and even the trophies and treasures he spoke of. The sketches reflect the events he described with great clarity, from rather artistic renderings of the scalefolk at a temporary peace, to the gory and vicious brawls that often ended in grotesque trophies for the winner. The younger K'dath even seen fit to smear a bit of red pigment on a drawing of a wounded Amalj'aa being left in the sand to perish as his kind moved on without him.
He turns another page, tapping the illustration. Though his expression is calm, tension hangs about him as he subtly grits his teeth. It's an illustration of an ordinary crystal with notes all about it, as you may expect of a field journal belonging to nearly and craft person. Closer observation of the page betrays one of the notes in question appears to be written from a different hand. The letters are even worse than the Miqo'te's and can't be made out at all. Yet something about looking at the jagged blacken scrawl ties your guy in knots.
“In fact, I wondered with a near-fatal curiosity what became of the hoards the lizardmen had, till the day I saw them gathering together in yet unobserved numbers. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them gathered together, flowing in from all four winds, and many with great sacks of tribute. One night I resolved to bring a sketchbook along with me that I might capture the scenes of such treasure as a trophy from my expeditions.
“The night in question was warmer than usual, and as I neared the encampment I could swear I'd stepped into the seventh hell itself. As I crested the dune which I'd made my usual perch, I beheld a rather different site than in previous times. The camp was cleaned and orderly with no signs of the loot they had hoarded over the past moons. And against all logic... I crept closer. Something in my foolish, adolescent mind believed that I was actually a very tricky kitty and not that the beastfolk had simply been ignoring me till this very night.
“Nearer to the camp I saw the Amalj'aa gathered around what appeared to be some strange totem. It was like no thing I had seen before, a demon of some form with massive horns sloping upwards, as if to rip the heavens. It was hewn of wood, a rare commodity in the wastes, and seemed to have been crafted with great care one would not expect of the massive lizardmen. At the foot were the crystals of fire I'd noted only passively before. There had to be thousands, though they were small, certainly not enough to call forth any primal in his full glory. Each one glimmered with a dull ember of Inferno magic, a catalyst waiting, begging even, to go off at any moment. I was shocked you understand, when I saw one amongst their numbers approach the effigy with torch in hand.
“He slurred some guttural chant I couldn't comprehend, then put the demonic idol to the torch. It set aflame brilliantly to the rasping cheers of the onlookers. The flames surged upward with an almost sentience, a tower of flame so dizzying and scintillating it almost turned the night to day as its tongues scraped the sky. After the moment of resounding cries the beastfolk approached one at a time, casting coins and other riches into the flames. It was then it occurred to me I was watching some terrible, pagan rite to their brutal god of flame. They burnt everything. All they had raided. All they had hoarded. Everything they had killed for and died for went into the raging pyre.
“I observed the procession of offerings, and I beheld the Auger giving blessing to each one. The larger the offering paid, the more extravagant and fevered was the grace. With a broad and rusted blade he'd cut them, the more the coin the bigger the gash, and permitted them to offer their blood to the flames. And when enough tribute was not brought forth, the miserly beast responsible would be hurled into the embers as well. They were cut and marred, reshaped and charred, for the glory of the Lord of the Inferno. When all had paid their dues to the fire god, the bloodied priest launched into a fevered sermon, in a language known only to the touched I presume, for to me it sounded only like gibberish. Then they dispersed, as if no great culling had ever happened, and left the idol to smolder.â€
He turns the page of the beaten grimoire and taps the illustration on the next page. The idol of Ifrit set ablaze was surrounded by several smaller glyphs and some hastily written notes. The page across was one massive glyph with many intricate details and complex geometries. Yet a portion of it appeared to be missing.
“It was...strange. Grotesque in comparison to the rituals of the Twelve. And yet... something about it was enchanting. I remained at the site until long after the flames were quenched, inching closer as the heat and light gradually diminished. I did my best to record the strange markings about the ritual grounds. Many of them were damaged by the fire, others completely obliterated. I found them curious, but far less interesting than the cooling pile of tribute so near by. I had no sense of what I should have been looking for at the time...
“Nor any sense at all, I suppose as I made my way into the camp itself. My interest in the academic trophy I had already compiled here was dwindling fast in favor of what may have possibly survived the fire. Golden coins that may have escaped the blaze would buy me respect with people as simple as my own. Even more prestigious if I could recover a bone or weapon from one of the felled beastkin. Nothing earned you a place in the good graces of my tribe like slaying an enemy and bringing back a treasure...
“Before I knew it I was on my knees before the idol's burnt husk. I felt... uneasy, as if the gaze of Ifrit was upon me now that I was strewn upon his altar. I suppose it's how a sacrificial lamb feels, staring up at a graven image of our gods. As I'd feared, nearly everything was ashes or too warped by flame to be salvageable. I cursed the wretched Amalj'aa and near-to cursed their god when a small glint caught my eye amongst the smoke and rubble.
“I burned my hands terribly like an imbecile as I cleared away a still flickering bit of wood. Nestled at the base of the effigy was the purest, finest, most beautiful ruby I'd ever laid eyes upon. It was stunning, and even in the dim light it was breath taking. Utterly devoid of even the smallest flaw. It was worth a fortune surely. The Auger must have thought it a crystal was all I could surmise of it then. Just holding it in my hands... I was filled with a sense of... I can't even describe it. There's no word for it in your language, or my people's language for that matter. It was hope and purpose for me, incarnated into a jewel I held in my hand...
“For all of a few moments before I was snatched up by a snarling beastman. It was a type of terror you simply can't fathom unless you are Miqo'te. I was hoisted by my tail into the air amidst the smog and shaken viciously. I was terrified... more than that, I was in a waking nightmare, paralyzed and unable to scream as my lungs filled with smoke. I was rattled and disoriented, the world tumbling before me as all of my senses vanished into a warm red haze as what I would assume is unconsciousness trying to claim me.
“I was certain I was dead, even as I lashed out with all my will to live. I was already dead, and the horrible burning sensation coursing through me was my life bleeding out of my on Ifrit's Pyre. There was a great, terrible light that blinded me, and then the sensation of falling replaced all notion of pain.
“What happened next or how long the events took to transpire is a great mystery to me. My eyes still throbbed when I came to and beheld the Blood Auger himself before me. Dead. Lying sprawled upon the sand with what appeared as if a great animal had simply torn away a chunk of nearly half his upper body. The wounds however were smooth, baring no mark of tooth, and more importantly... cauterized. I still remember looking down into the half of his face still in tact. I looked into his remaining eye, such an evil construct, for what seemed like an eternity. And I felt a latent heat coursing through my veins. It felt... Good.
“I was not fool enough to tarry so long a second time though. I collected my book and the ruby that near cost me my life, and beat a hasty retreat before the Blood Auger's flock would stir and put me down for sure. I was home before the sun crested high enough to cast a shadow on the village, and I dared not whisper a word of what had bore witness to. I hid my notes, and my prized ruby as well, as I'd found myself with a certain fondness for it too overwhelming to hawk it to any traveling merchant.
“I was...inspired thereafter, touched even, to pursue magic. It earned meno fondness from my people, so xenophobic and mired in tradition that they are. But I no longer cared... It was as if a veil was lifted from my eyes, and I was suddenly seeing the world for the first time. It was something more vast and incomprehensible than I'd ever been given reason to think before.â€
He closes the tome with a heavy thud from the cover, ignoring any attempts you make to read it further. He smiles, clicking his tongue against his teeth as an amused huff escapes him. “So tell me, do you think that fateful night I was 'tempered' by Ifrit? That is what your employers sought, is it not? 'Is he a threat?' they whisper and pour over notes about a summoner not crushed beneath their thumb.â€
He barks out an abrupt laugh at your expression and shakes his head with an apathetic shrug. “Living amongst a small tribe, closed off from the world, taught me the value of knowledge. I learned that the pursuit of objective truth is the one, and the only, righteous endeavor. Everything else is relative. Seeking to regulate the will of the world to a neatly defined code of conduct is not only impossible, it is the most opprobrious act of hubris ever dreamt up by mankind.â€
He lays his grimoire to the side, setting his hands back upon the table where you might easily see them. “I've rambled quite long enough though. I see you still have a formidable stack of questions to ask me, and I'd rather like to have you out of my hair, charming as your company is...â€
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Part 3: Past Influences29. What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?
“Excluding the aforementioned tale? Perhaps leaving my tribe, of my own free will mind you. It was stifling, really. Life regulated to little more than breeding... makes us little better than midge flies, don't you think?â€
30. Who has had the most influenceon you?
“I'd argue it was the lovely Amalj'aa blood mage who intended to turn my tail into a trophy. Nothing is quite so motivating as fighting for your life. Though if you're looking for a 'proper' answer I suppose it would be an adventurer I met, shortly after my... Well, once I was out of the deserts I knew and into the far more cut throat and blood-thirsty streets of Limsa Lominsa. His name escapes me and time has obfuscated his face... He was a good man though, kind eyes... soft hands... A-anyroad, he was a fixture at the Arcanist's Guild, and did much to ease the burden of coming to a strange land with naught a thing sans some tattered leather scraps I tried to pass as clothes.â€
31. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
“Many things that would have the lawmakers in Ul'dah howling with rage.†He chuckles, smirking impishly and waves his hands. “A jest, naturally. I've yet to accomplish any great feats of infamy.â€
32. What is your greatest regret?
“Regret?†His ears lay back a moment, his lips pursed as he seems to be thinking rather hard on this one. “I don't feel regret... Everything is happening for a reason. I came to know this truth when it was time for me to know, and everything else has unfolded as it should... I can't begrudge that.â€
33. What is the most evil thing you have ever done?
“I ate five baptized babes and used their blood to call the moon down... What? That is a silly question, and for it you get a silly answer.†He rolls his eyes dramatically, flashing a Cheshire grin.
34. Do you have a criminal record of any kind?
“Isn't that why you're here? One of those 'person of interest' reports or another that seem to come from Ul'dah daily. It's hardly my fault they have many, many arbitrary laws.â€
35. When was the time you were the most frightened?
“Being shaken over the burnt out husk of a demonic god aside? ...Perhaps the last time I saw the K Nuhn, swearing to slit me from nips to navel for my toxic influence. Not that my fears in that situation where totally unfounded, or I would still be hiking around the desert bemoaning the heat, rather than nestled a comfortable walk from the sparkling ocean as we are.â€
36. What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?
“Much of my first few months amongst civilized society qualifies. When your understanding of the world is very narrow, you'll often find yourself in... compromising situations.â€
37. If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?
“I don't think I'd change anything. All of the things that happened, for better or worse, in my time here have made me what I am.â€
38. What is your best memory?
“Best memory? A difficult one to nail down... Perhaps when first I gained the companionship of Carter. It was a wonderful spring day, the smell of salt on the air intermingling with the scent of flowers blowing down from the orchard. I was training down by the shore, listening to the ebb and crash of the waves... and everything was perfect for a moment. Everything... made sense, and for a moment, everything turned to gold.†He smiles genuinely, his ears rolling back as he looks up with eyes alight with wonderment. “Have you ever had a moment like that?â€
39. What is your worst memory?
He opens his mouth, as if to answer promptly and directly for a change, the pauses. His eyes dart back and forth for a moment, his ears perking up once again before he raises his gaze to meet yours. “His name isn't important... And youth may drive one to stupid passions... But it was the worst day in my brief, young life, when he threw me to the jackals... I remember it too was a beautiful spring day, as beautiful as spring days can be in the Sagolii at least.†He clicks his tongue against his teeth, taking a deep breath and exhaling in a dramatic fashion, smiling despite himself. “I was younger and stupider, and it's a thing I've put behind me now. Like I've said, I don't have regrets. Just learning experiences that hurt more than others.â€
“Excluding the aforementioned tale? Perhaps leaving my tribe, of my own free will mind you. It was stifling, really. Life regulated to little more than breeding... makes us little better than midge flies, don't you think?â€
30. Who has had the most influenceon you?
“I'd argue it was the lovely Amalj'aa blood mage who intended to turn my tail into a trophy. Nothing is quite so motivating as fighting for your life. Though if you're looking for a 'proper' answer I suppose it would be an adventurer I met, shortly after my... Well, once I was out of the deserts I knew and into the far more cut throat and blood-thirsty streets of Limsa Lominsa. His name escapes me and time has obfuscated his face... He was a good man though, kind eyes... soft hands... A-anyroad, he was a fixture at the Arcanist's Guild, and did much to ease the burden of coming to a strange land with naught a thing sans some tattered leather scraps I tried to pass as clothes.â€
31. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
“Many things that would have the lawmakers in Ul'dah howling with rage.†He chuckles, smirking impishly and waves his hands. “A jest, naturally. I've yet to accomplish any great feats of infamy.â€
32. What is your greatest regret?
“Regret?†His ears lay back a moment, his lips pursed as he seems to be thinking rather hard on this one. “I don't feel regret... Everything is happening for a reason. I came to know this truth when it was time for me to know, and everything else has unfolded as it should... I can't begrudge that.â€
33. What is the most evil thing you have ever done?
“I ate five baptized babes and used their blood to call the moon down... What? That is a silly question, and for it you get a silly answer.†He rolls his eyes dramatically, flashing a Cheshire grin.
34. Do you have a criminal record of any kind?
“Isn't that why you're here? One of those 'person of interest' reports or another that seem to come from Ul'dah daily. It's hardly my fault they have many, many arbitrary laws.â€
35. When was the time you were the most frightened?
“Being shaken over the burnt out husk of a demonic god aside? ...Perhaps the last time I saw the K Nuhn, swearing to slit me from nips to navel for my toxic influence. Not that my fears in that situation where totally unfounded, or I would still be hiking around the desert bemoaning the heat, rather than nestled a comfortable walk from the sparkling ocean as we are.â€
36. What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?
“Much of my first few months amongst civilized society qualifies. When your understanding of the world is very narrow, you'll often find yourself in... compromising situations.â€
37. If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?
“I don't think I'd change anything. All of the things that happened, for better or worse, in my time here have made me what I am.â€
38. What is your best memory?
“Best memory? A difficult one to nail down... Perhaps when first I gained the companionship of Carter. It was a wonderful spring day, the smell of salt on the air intermingling with the scent of flowers blowing down from the orchard. I was training down by the shore, listening to the ebb and crash of the waves... and everything was perfect for a moment. Everything... made sense, and for a moment, everything turned to gold.†He smiles genuinely, his ears rolling back as he looks up with eyes alight with wonderment. “Have you ever had a moment like that?â€
39. What is your worst memory?
He opens his mouth, as if to answer promptly and directly for a change, the pauses. His eyes dart back and forth for a moment, his ears perking up once again before he raises his gaze to meet yours. “His name isn't important... And youth may drive one to stupid passions... But it was the worst day in my brief, young life, when he threw me to the jackals... I remember it too was a beautiful spring day, as beautiful as spring days can be in the Sagolii at least.†He clicks his tongue against his teeth, taking a deep breath and exhaling in a dramatic fashion, smiling despite himself. “I was younger and stupider, and it's a thing I've put behind me now. Like I've said, I don't have regrets. Just learning experiences that hurt more than others.â€
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Part 4: Beliefs And Opinions40. Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?
“I'm a realist! And I really believe that things are the way they are for a reason, for better or worse...â€
41. What is your greatest fear?
He glances sideways, leaning in close, his breath barely above a whisper: “Cactaurs.†He sits up suddenly, frowning at you in disapproval. “Don't laugh at me. They're horrifying, evil little creatures.†His left ear twitches several times, eying you distrustfully, as if certain you were laughing at his terror beneath your professional veneer. Of course you are! But he doesn't need to know that...
42. What are your religious views?
“I believe there's a definitive answer out there somewhere... But we haven't found it yet. We're too hung up on small matters, we can't even begin to embrace what's beyond ourselves before we comprehend our own world.â€
43. What are your political views?
He barks out a sudden laugh and haves his hand curtly. “It's not my concern. All the systems are rife with greed and corruption. One is no better than another, and I'm just as well off without any of them... I suppose that makes me a bit of an anarchist.â€
44. What are your views on sex?
“Views? As in?...I like the view of the wide open sea while enjoying a brief roll on the beach?†He arches an eyebrow and snorts. “It's a part of life. Making it out to be any more than that is idealistic... or idiotic.â€
45. Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?
“How barbaric...Yes I am able to. I am physically and mentally capable of committing acts which would come to the end result of relieving another creature of their gift of life. My murdering is regulated mostly to fish and game beasts. I'm not too hung up on the morality of such.â€
46. In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?
“I don't think evil is a real concept. I think evil is a term that one party appoints to another when they have conflicting goals. My goal is to live in accordance with my own way and to study the objects of my interest uninhibited. Evil, in which case, would be anyone attempting to deprive me of that freedom.â€
47. Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?
“No. Even putting aside years of cultural conditioning, with what I've seen of your world... No.â€
48. What do you believe makes a successful life?
“Success is in the eye of the beholder... Live well according to your own ends, nothing more than that.â€
49. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?
“Well, if my intent was to be dishonest about anything, then how could you be sure I haven't been dishonest about everything? I may even be dishonest about being dishonest! Now wouldn't that be something?â€
50. Do you have any biases or prejudices?
“I am neutral in almost all accords. I'm a student of the world, after all, it's far more conducive to my ends to be open minded.â€
51. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?
“I never know what I am capable of doing until I am put into a situation in which I must. Morality is a strange, shifting mass like that... and its why I don't put much stock in ethics. I'd like to say I'd never willfully torture or deprive another sentient creature of life, freedom, or pleasure... but I've yet to be in that situation where the line must be drawn.â€
He sighs, laying his head into his hand, his tail swishing back and forth idly as he seems to be growing bored. “I do not take life idly, if that's what this line of questioning is all about. I'm not an extremist bent on reshaping the world to my ends. I protect myself and what is mine. Nothing more. Nothing less...â€
52. Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?
“He who fights and runs away lives to run away again." He chuckles at his own perceived cleverness and shrugs. “Nothing is overly valuable. Even research can be rewritten. I can't very well do that while interred in some shallow plot though, can I?â€
“I'm a realist! And I really believe that things are the way they are for a reason, for better or worse...â€
41. What is your greatest fear?
He glances sideways, leaning in close, his breath barely above a whisper: “Cactaurs.†He sits up suddenly, frowning at you in disapproval. “Don't laugh at me. They're horrifying, evil little creatures.†His left ear twitches several times, eying you distrustfully, as if certain you were laughing at his terror beneath your professional veneer. Of course you are! But he doesn't need to know that...
42. What are your religious views?
“I believe there's a definitive answer out there somewhere... But we haven't found it yet. We're too hung up on small matters, we can't even begin to embrace what's beyond ourselves before we comprehend our own world.â€
43. What are your political views?
He barks out a sudden laugh and haves his hand curtly. “It's not my concern. All the systems are rife with greed and corruption. One is no better than another, and I'm just as well off without any of them... I suppose that makes me a bit of an anarchist.â€
44. What are your views on sex?
“Views? As in?...I like the view of the wide open sea while enjoying a brief roll on the beach?†He arches an eyebrow and snorts. “It's a part of life. Making it out to be any more than that is idealistic... or idiotic.â€
45. Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?
“How barbaric...Yes I am able to. I am physically and mentally capable of committing acts which would come to the end result of relieving another creature of their gift of life. My murdering is regulated mostly to fish and game beasts. I'm not too hung up on the morality of such.â€
46. In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?
“I don't think evil is a real concept. I think evil is a term that one party appoints to another when they have conflicting goals. My goal is to live in accordance with my own way and to study the objects of my interest uninhibited. Evil, in which case, would be anyone attempting to deprive me of that freedom.â€
47. Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?
“No. Even putting aside years of cultural conditioning, with what I've seen of your world... No.â€
48. What do you believe makes a successful life?
“Success is in the eye of the beholder... Live well according to your own ends, nothing more than that.â€
49. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?
“Well, if my intent was to be dishonest about anything, then how could you be sure I haven't been dishonest about everything? I may even be dishonest about being dishonest! Now wouldn't that be something?â€
50. Do you have any biases or prejudices?
“I am neutral in almost all accords. I'm a student of the world, after all, it's far more conducive to my ends to be open minded.â€
51. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?
“I never know what I am capable of doing until I am put into a situation in which I must. Morality is a strange, shifting mass like that... and its why I don't put much stock in ethics. I'd like to say I'd never willfully torture or deprive another sentient creature of life, freedom, or pleasure... but I've yet to be in that situation where the line must be drawn.â€
He sighs, laying his head into his hand, his tail swishing back and forth idly as he seems to be growing bored. “I do not take life idly, if that's what this line of questioning is all about. I'm not an extremist bent on reshaping the world to my ends. I protect myself and what is mine. Nothing more. Nothing less...â€
52. Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?
“He who fights and runs away lives to run away again." He chuckles at his own perceived cleverness and shrugs. “Nothing is overly valuable. Even research can be rewritten. I can't very well do that while interred in some shallow plot though, can I?â€
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Part 5: Relationships With Others53. In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?
“I treat people well enough, until they've proven themselves worthy of something to the contrary.â€
54. Who is the most important person in your life, and why?
“Myself, naturally,†he grins.
55. Who is the person you respect the most, and why?
“You seem awfully preoccupied with my perceptions of other people... I suppose I respect my elders in the magic arts. On an individual basis I can take or leave them, but without forbearers, there is no contemporary study.â€
56. Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.
“I don't really have a mind for such things... I don't have a problem being polite and civil to people, but getting attached is another thing entirely. And one I can scarce afford.â€
57. Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.
“Afraid not, you know, being a cynical, amoral, drifter who studies terrible, eldrich beings simply isn't as popular for courting as it was in ages past. Can't fathom why.â€
58. Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.
He shrugs, his expression betraying a look of bordem once again as his eyes drift away. He seems to be daydreaming rather than seriously contemplating your question to any depth. You're prepared to move on when his gaze wafts lazily in your direction.
“Love, I have come to believe, is a childish construct on pleasant days, and a cruel joke of nature on the worse ones. Knowing it is a terrible thing does not make one immune to it, and especially not when it comes to the past. Hindsight is always the clearer... but something with the emotion known as love, it'll seek to trip you time and time again.â€
He shakes his head, something in his expression seeming... tired. The crease in his frown, the way his eyebrows furrow, the way his eyes simply seem dimmer. “It's also terribly tedious to hear a spurned lover wax poetic about past flames. I know you don't actually care, it's just a regulation question, right?â€
Before you have a chance to answer he holds up a hand and shakes his head. “To answer in brief, yes. And it was terrible.â€
59. What do you look for in a potential lover?
“I don't.â€
60. How close are you to your family?
“Not at all. Haven't spoken to them in years, and I have no intention of doing so.â€
61. Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?
“No on both points. It's simply not an aspiration of mine. Not now. Not ever. I have no drive to procreate, no instinct for parenting, and no attraction to the opposite sex.â€
62. Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?
“If I were desperately in need of help? If my life depended on it? I suppose I'd just be out of luck... And I would deserve it for getting myself into such a situation I could not get myself out of.â€
63. Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?
“Who would I trust, pray tell? I have made it clear to you numerous times... I have no home, I have no family, I have no friends... all I have to depend on is myself, my abilities, and my purpose. And if that is not enough to carry me, and I should fail, then there will be no one to recall my passing...â€
64. If you died or went missing, who would miss you?
You hesitate to ask after the previous answer he gave, coupled with his penchant for getting snippy when asked the same question several times. You opt to skip this one.
65. Who is the person you despise the most, and why?
“The person who doubtlessly paid you good coin to corner me and steal away an afternoon I could have spent doing something fruitful. I shall make sure they are my next victim when next I am in the mood for wanton slaughter.†He arches an eyebrow at you and huffs. “A jest, a jest... I assure you.â€
66. Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?
“I admit at times, when I see a pretentious cretin with notable delusions of grandeur, I sometimes act against my better nature. What can I say? Mischief is a guilty pleasure.â€
67. Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?
“If necessary I have the decorum to assume control of most situations. However, my good sense tends to keep me out of such situations.â€
68. Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?
“Not really. People are rarely themselves on a stage. I'm not interested in your public facade.†He catches the slight shift in your expression and smirks. “I do not mask my emotions. That implies a certain amount of care and social polities I simply do not have. What you perceive as a front is my genuine nature. I have a voracious curiosity that often leads me smiling into situations that may very well be the death of me.â€
69. Do you care what others think of you?
“Not at all. Not one whit. I'm not here to impress upon or serve others. My care is for myself. And I like me just fine.â€
“I treat people well enough, until they've proven themselves worthy of something to the contrary.â€
54. Who is the most important person in your life, and why?
“Myself, naturally,†he grins.
55. Who is the person you respect the most, and why?
“You seem awfully preoccupied with my perceptions of other people... I suppose I respect my elders in the magic arts. On an individual basis I can take or leave them, but without forbearers, there is no contemporary study.â€
56. Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.
“I don't really have a mind for such things... I don't have a problem being polite and civil to people, but getting attached is another thing entirely. And one I can scarce afford.â€
57. Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.
“Afraid not, you know, being a cynical, amoral, drifter who studies terrible, eldrich beings simply isn't as popular for courting as it was in ages past. Can't fathom why.â€
58. Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.
He shrugs, his expression betraying a look of bordem once again as his eyes drift away. He seems to be daydreaming rather than seriously contemplating your question to any depth. You're prepared to move on when his gaze wafts lazily in your direction.
“Love, I have come to believe, is a childish construct on pleasant days, and a cruel joke of nature on the worse ones. Knowing it is a terrible thing does not make one immune to it, and especially not when it comes to the past. Hindsight is always the clearer... but something with the emotion known as love, it'll seek to trip you time and time again.â€
He shakes his head, something in his expression seeming... tired. The crease in his frown, the way his eyebrows furrow, the way his eyes simply seem dimmer. “It's also terribly tedious to hear a spurned lover wax poetic about past flames. I know you don't actually care, it's just a regulation question, right?â€
Before you have a chance to answer he holds up a hand and shakes his head. “To answer in brief, yes. And it was terrible.â€
59. What do you look for in a potential lover?
“I don't.â€
60. How close are you to your family?
“Not at all. Haven't spoken to them in years, and I have no intention of doing so.â€
61. Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?
“No on both points. It's simply not an aspiration of mine. Not now. Not ever. I have no drive to procreate, no instinct for parenting, and no attraction to the opposite sex.â€
62. Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?
“If I were desperately in need of help? If my life depended on it? I suppose I'd just be out of luck... And I would deserve it for getting myself into such a situation I could not get myself out of.â€
63. Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?
“Who would I trust, pray tell? I have made it clear to you numerous times... I have no home, I have no family, I have no friends... all I have to depend on is myself, my abilities, and my purpose. And if that is not enough to carry me, and I should fail, then there will be no one to recall my passing...â€
64. If you died or went missing, who would miss you?
You hesitate to ask after the previous answer he gave, coupled with his penchant for getting snippy when asked the same question several times. You opt to skip this one.
65. Who is the person you despise the most, and why?
“The person who doubtlessly paid you good coin to corner me and steal away an afternoon I could have spent doing something fruitful. I shall make sure they are my next victim when next I am in the mood for wanton slaughter.†He arches an eyebrow at you and huffs. “A jest, a jest... I assure you.â€
66. Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?
“I admit at times, when I see a pretentious cretin with notable delusions of grandeur, I sometimes act against my better nature. What can I say? Mischief is a guilty pleasure.â€
67. Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?
“If necessary I have the decorum to assume control of most situations. However, my good sense tends to keep me out of such situations.â€
68. Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?
“Not really. People are rarely themselves on a stage. I'm not interested in your public facade.†He catches the slight shift in your expression and smirks. “I do not mask my emotions. That implies a certain amount of care and social polities I simply do not have. What you perceive as a front is my genuine nature. I have a voracious curiosity that often leads me smiling into situations that may very well be the death of me.â€
69. Do you care what others think of you?
“Not at all. Not one whit. I'm not here to impress upon or serve others. My care is for myself. And I like me just fine.â€
Show Content
Part 6: Likes And Dislikes70. What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?
“Hobbies... I rarely have time for such things. But I enjoy fishing. Sitting on the beach with a weather beaten rod, watching the sun set, smelling the salt and the smoke of a campfire. The excitement of hooking a big fish, falling over and nearly being dragged into the sea. But you grit your teeth, you pull hard, your reel as if your life depended on it... the rush when it breaks the wave and comes crashing, flopping onto the shore. Then you jam a sharp stick through the wriggly bastard and roast him as the light dies.†He seems lost in the fantasy for a moment, shaking his head suddenly as his cheeks turn a smidge red.
“I-I'm also fond of music... I've oft thought about picking up the harp, delightful instrument, if ever I found the time or talent.â€
71. What is your most treasured possession?
“My grimoire,with no competition or doubt. It's my life's labor. For it to be destroyed would be like destroying a bit of my own heart... as silly and poetic as that sounds,†he chuckles uneasily, glancing around as if paranoid.
72. What is your favorite color?
“Blue. Any shade, though I'm partial to the color of the sky.â€
73. What is your favorite food?
“I love fish. Any kind, served any way. I have a soft spot in the primeval recesses of my heart for raw meat, but cooked, salted, you really can't go wrong. All the better with a fresh herbal tea, straight from the orchard. A slice of lemon... oh, or oranges, those just came into season... An orange tea with the right spices...†he trails off for a moment, muttering to himself about ideas on what to have for dinner. You subtly bump the table to get his attention. “Right! Right, right... sorry. It is getting late though, you understand my thoughts drift elsewhere.â€
74. What, if anything, do you like to read?
“I read a lot,when I am able. Rapacious inquisitiveness and all. There's still so much I do not know... Books help to bridge the gaps. Even archaic volumes are profoundly interesting for all their lack of valuable knowledge.â€
75. What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?
“I'm not sure I have a good mind to be critical of art. It all fascinates me, as I knew nothing quite like it growing up. Music, however, is language all things know. The men playing harps in theaters, the beastfolk with their goathide drums, the lowly vilekin chirping 'neath the moon. No matter the circumstance of your birth... you know music. It's a part of life, as much as love and death.â€
76. Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?
He tilts his head to the side, one ear cocked back with the other perked attentively. For all his seemingly profound, worldly knowledge, he has no idea what you're talking about. You could explain it to him, but you opt to move along. Let him hold onto that naivety for a little longer.
77. How do you spend a typical Saturday night?
His perception of time is clearly different than yours, as he's not entirely sure what a Saturday is. It takes him a moment to surmise from the context what you mean. “Oh... on a night dedicated to leisure? I don't take many holidays, so I'm unsure what a typical one would be. Probably sleeping...â€
78. What makes you laugh?
“Everything. Anything. It's good for your health, or so I've been told. Even moments of great despair have their humor, if you're willing to forgo your sense of self for a moment to see them. I think perhaps those are my favorite ones. Tragedy and irony... I guess I have a somewhat black sense of humor?â€
79. What, if anything, shocks or offends you?
“Getting offended takes an awful lot of effort, especially when it's likely the source of your offense is ignorant. Only stark statements of penultimate absurdity can really jostle my nerves, if you will. In which case, tis best to just abscond.â€
80. What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?
“I suppose that depends. If I were fortuitous enough to be making camp along the shore I would probably fish. I hear that all sorts of interesting fish crest black waters that you'll never see in the daylight... I think that would be interesting. Elsewise, I suppose to sit up with a book or recount my own notes... Nothing terribly fascinating.â€
81. How do you deal with stress?
“Leaving the stressor seems to do the trick. And yet such a simple solution seems to boggle the minds of more tempered men.â€
82. Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?
“A bit of both, as they are useful. If is good to have a plan, wise to have a plan for when the plan goes awry, and most clever to plan for the accord all plans will fail.â€
83. What are your pet peeves?
“Pet...peeves? Things I find irritating? Like sand in my boots? Sand in my boots certainly annoys me. Twelve favor the man who first crafted knee-highs, am I right?â€
“Hobbies... I rarely have time for such things. But I enjoy fishing. Sitting on the beach with a weather beaten rod, watching the sun set, smelling the salt and the smoke of a campfire. The excitement of hooking a big fish, falling over and nearly being dragged into the sea. But you grit your teeth, you pull hard, your reel as if your life depended on it... the rush when it breaks the wave and comes crashing, flopping onto the shore. Then you jam a sharp stick through the wriggly bastard and roast him as the light dies.†He seems lost in the fantasy for a moment, shaking his head suddenly as his cheeks turn a smidge red.
“I-I'm also fond of music... I've oft thought about picking up the harp, delightful instrument, if ever I found the time or talent.â€
71. What is your most treasured possession?
“My grimoire,with no competition or doubt. It's my life's labor. For it to be destroyed would be like destroying a bit of my own heart... as silly and poetic as that sounds,†he chuckles uneasily, glancing around as if paranoid.
72. What is your favorite color?
“Blue. Any shade, though I'm partial to the color of the sky.â€
73. What is your favorite food?
“I love fish. Any kind, served any way. I have a soft spot in the primeval recesses of my heart for raw meat, but cooked, salted, you really can't go wrong. All the better with a fresh herbal tea, straight from the orchard. A slice of lemon... oh, or oranges, those just came into season... An orange tea with the right spices...†he trails off for a moment, muttering to himself about ideas on what to have for dinner. You subtly bump the table to get his attention. “Right! Right, right... sorry. It is getting late though, you understand my thoughts drift elsewhere.â€
74. What, if anything, do you like to read?
“I read a lot,when I am able. Rapacious inquisitiveness and all. There's still so much I do not know... Books help to bridge the gaps. Even archaic volumes are profoundly interesting for all their lack of valuable knowledge.â€
75. What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?
“I'm not sure I have a good mind to be critical of art. It all fascinates me, as I knew nothing quite like it growing up. Music, however, is language all things know. The men playing harps in theaters, the beastfolk with their goathide drums, the lowly vilekin chirping 'neath the moon. No matter the circumstance of your birth... you know music. It's a part of life, as much as love and death.â€
76. Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?
He tilts his head to the side, one ear cocked back with the other perked attentively. For all his seemingly profound, worldly knowledge, he has no idea what you're talking about. You could explain it to him, but you opt to move along. Let him hold onto that naivety for a little longer.
77. How do you spend a typical Saturday night?
His perception of time is clearly different than yours, as he's not entirely sure what a Saturday is. It takes him a moment to surmise from the context what you mean. “Oh... on a night dedicated to leisure? I don't take many holidays, so I'm unsure what a typical one would be. Probably sleeping...â€
78. What makes you laugh?
“Everything. Anything. It's good for your health, or so I've been told. Even moments of great despair have their humor, if you're willing to forgo your sense of self for a moment to see them. I think perhaps those are my favorite ones. Tragedy and irony... I guess I have a somewhat black sense of humor?â€
79. What, if anything, shocks or offends you?
“Getting offended takes an awful lot of effort, especially when it's likely the source of your offense is ignorant. Only stark statements of penultimate absurdity can really jostle my nerves, if you will. In which case, tis best to just abscond.â€
80. What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?
“I suppose that depends. If I were fortuitous enough to be making camp along the shore I would probably fish. I hear that all sorts of interesting fish crest black waters that you'll never see in the daylight... I think that would be interesting. Elsewise, I suppose to sit up with a book or recount my own notes... Nothing terribly fascinating.â€
81. How do you deal with stress?
“Leaving the stressor seems to do the trick. And yet such a simple solution seems to boggle the minds of more tempered men.â€
82. Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?
“A bit of both, as they are useful. If is good to have a plan, wise to have a plan for when the plan goes awry, and most clever to plan for the accord all plans will fail.â€
83. What are your pet peeves?
“Pet...peeves? Things I find irritating? Like sand in my boots? Sand in my boots certainly annoys me. Twelve favor the man who first crafted knee-highs, am I right?â€
Show Content
Part 7: Self Images And Etc.84. Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?
“I am not a typical person. I do not have typical patterns. It is had for me to put things into a context that does not exist in my reality. Each day is something new and profound. My routines are not disrupted, merely given new ends.â€
85. What is your greatest strength as a person?
“As... a person? You mean something that is a testament to my character? I think I have favorable, transcendental qualities. A good sense of wonderment, optimism, and humor when those other traits fail me.â€
86. What is your greatest weakness?
“I don't see my poor qualities all that well. I may be inattentive and undisciplined at times, but it hardly matters when you are your own company. Maybe that makes me vain?â€
87. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
“I like myself fine as is. No complaints. If I could nit-pick, I would be taller... It's very difficult to demand people take you seriously when you have to stand on the tips of your toes and still look up to speak with them.â€
88. Are you generally introverted or extroverted?
“Either, as it serves me. I can be a very sociable person, and I find it very easy to 'read people' if you will. People born in your culture seem to have poor social sense, oddly enough. Though as I've said, I am my own company through fat and lean. I know no one else better.â€
89. Are you generally organized or messy?
“I've never owned enough possessions to make a mess... Though I am not an organized person by any means.â€
90. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.
“I'm good at what I do; I'm a scientist, a mage, and student of the primeval forces which shape our world. I am good at commanding those forces. I'm even better at setting things on fire. I am also nothing but an asset when playing triva games. My failings are... things I don't do. I couldn't heft a stick much less swing a sword, I can't string a bow, and if my life depended on me punching my way out of a wet sack... well, I'd be doomed. Thankfully those glaring deficiencies are mostly countered with ready access to my former qualities.â€
91. Do you like yourself?
“I believe I've said as much... Several times in fact. Or are you expecting me to suddenly, bitterly break down with another sad tale and confess to hating myself? Because I don't. Self-loathing is a ridiculous concept when you are the one thing you can change in this world.â€
92. What are your reasons for being an adventurer? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…)
He rolls his eyes again, but in less of a showy, sarcastic manner as before. He seems to be seriously grappling with himself on how he wants to answer. He looks you over discerningly, his ear flicking as is his established 'tell' for deep, introspective thought. He nods confidently, settling down and staring straight into your eyes with his own. You can feel it hit you in a real, tangible way, as the simmering passion in his eyes ignites into a fully realized inferno.
“In truth? It was a dream... A voice in a dream told me I was meant for something else. It spoke to me... with a certainty and intent that no terrestrial thing could manage. It was an assurance, a parting of the waters of fate itself. A....a divine mandate! I can't explain it with language. It was simply a sense of knowing that pervaded all things. I'm not certain what that something else I am destined for is... but I know, with all my being, that this... this Dream Quest is my purpose. It is the ordination of universal law, and I could not steer from it if I chose. No matter what the ends are, I will fulfill them. And I will continue to sojourn until I find that end...
“But no, I don't share such willingly, for fear people think I'm mad. How do you describe the indescribable? It sounds like such inane ramblings... perhaps they are. I can't rightly ask others to entreat me as some celestial harbinger based on the voices of my night terrors... But I know, and that is enough for me. Besides, one hardly needs reasons to be an adventurer nowadays. There's money, glory, all sorts of hedonistic pleasures to be seized... no one asks, no one rightly cares. Heroes with Dream Quests are only fairy tales and legends. For others, it's all about earthly pleasures.â€
He takes his glasses off, breathing onto them and rubbing the lens on his robe as the intensity about him abates. You too would be quick to call the mad house if you hadn't felt it just now. Delusion or not, there was such strength, such passion in his conviction, it had a presence all its own. That was the sort of will, the sort of overwhelming resolution this broken and unbound world needs. You still feel your hand trembling as you record his words on paper. Is this what it felt like... to sit before one touched by destiny?
He places his spectacles back on his nose, pushing them up to eye level, then offering a sweet, pleasant smile. “While I'm in the business of disclosing earth-shattering secrets... I really don't need these. They were a gift from the man I'd mentioned before. At the Arcanist guild. He said they were essential to looking the part... and perception is half of magic. A silly notion, but I've been unable to part with them.â€
93. What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?
“I would like to document fully the nature of the beastmen and their gods. Not as enemies, but that they may be understood, utterly, and in neutrality. It is my belief that scales and fur do not delineate the lack of a soul. They are men.... not men like us, but men all the same. I... I want to believe we may yet live together. It's a big enough world.â€
94. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
“Impossible to say. I come and go as I wish. I may still be traveling... I may be long dead by the time five years comes and goes. I'll move on, with the same sense of wonder and purpose I always maintain.â€
95. If you could choose, how would you want to die?
“A very dark question. But one I can humor. I would like not to die to the gallows of mans kingdom, nor the headsblock of study subjects. If I were to appoint a time and place, it would be... home. The only one I've ever know. For all the disdain which I speak of it's people... I would like to travel back to my tribe's home land. To feel the desert sun's embrace on my skin before it goes cold, and then let the fires take me.
“It's not as though I would have any one to return to, no point in revisiting a bridge burned... Maybe it's just a lingering sense of sentimentality, the same which kept me from simply assuming a new name while in exile... Maybe it's just instinct, to return to the grounds your ancestors lived and died upon.... or maybe I want to die there, just to spite the ones still holed up in that gods forsaken wasteland. Those bastards might tell me where I can't live, but they can't tell me where I can die,†he chuckles, his expression playful to dull the venom of his words.
96. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.
“Ah... a short day's time and much to do. Well nevermind the last answer then, travel would eat most of my time left, and I am not so hateful to squander it all on a single act of spite. No, I'd return to the city and lose all savings in a meal worthy of being a man's last. I'd return to the Arcanist guild and submit my research for publication, woefully incomplete as it is. And even though it would be a feat of time to travel and die where I wanted, I would spend my last few hours writing letters to reach those lands.... horrible, mean letters to people I hated, knowing I would not have to deal with the consequences. I'd entrust them all to the post, then go lay on the beach, and pray that death would claim me, so that I shall not live as a penniless heretic with a dozen foul tempered people bearing letters like invitations to break my every bone."
97. What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?
“I would like to think my actions will be of note after I die. I certainly don't want to die for my cause, martyrdom is a messy business. But once I am gone, fed to flames, interred in the earth, or swinging from the scaffolding, I should hope that what I leave behind will somewhere... in someway... change the world forever. Maybe not drastically. Maybe not immediately. But it will be different, someday, and it will be by something wrought of my own two hands while I was living. And that's the closest to divinity one humble man can aspire, yes?â€
98. What three words best describe your personality?
“Only three? …Precocious, yet puckish.â€
99. What three words would others probably use to describe you?
“I wouldn't presume to know. Perhaps something along the lines of 'that one guy'?â€
100. If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character?
((Cosmic Horror is not a genre you want to be a character in. Get out while you can.))
“I am not a typical person. I do not have typical patterns. It is had for me to put things into a context that does not exist in my reality. Each day is something new and profound. My routines are not disrupted, merely given new ends.â€
85. What is your greatest strength as a person?
“As... a person? You mean something that is a testament to my character? I think I have favorable, transcendental qualities. A good sense of wonderment, optimism, and humor when those other traits fail me.â€
86. What is your greatest weakness?
“I don't see my poor qualities all that well. I may be inattentive and undisciplined at times, but it hardly matters when you are your own company. Maybe that makes me vain?â€
87. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
“I like myself fine as is. No complaints. If I could nit-pick, I would be taller... It's very difficult to demand people take you seriously when you have to stand on the tips of your toes and still look up to speak with them.â€
88. Are you generally introverted or extroverted?
“Either, as it serves me. I can be a very sociable person, and I find it very easy to 'read people' if you will. People born in your culture seem to have poor social sense, oddly enough. Though as I've said, I am my own company through fat and lean. I know no one else better.â€
89. Are you generally organized or messy?
“I've never owned enough possessions to make a mess... Though I am not an organized person by any means.â€
90. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.
“I'm good at what I do; I'm a scientist, a mage, and student of the primeval forces which shape our world. I am good at commanding those forces. I'm even better at setting things on fire. I am also nothing but an asset when playing triva games. My failings are... things I don't do. I couldn't heft a stick much less swing a sword, I can't string a bow, and if my life depended on me punching my way out of a wet sack... well, I'd be doomed. Thankfully those glaring deficiencies are mostly countered with ready access to my former qualities.â€
91. Do you like yourself?
“I believe I've said as much... Several times in fact. Or are you expecting me to suddenly, bitterly break down with another sad tale and confess to hating myself? Because I don't. Self-loathing is a ridiculous concept when you are the one thing you can change in this world.â€
92. What are your reasons for being an adventurer? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…)
He rolls his eyes again, but in less of a showy, sarcastic manner as before. He seems to be seriously grappling with himself on how he wants to answer. He looks you over discerningly, his ear flicking as is his established 'tell' for deep, introspective thought. He nods confidently, settling down and staring straight into your eyes with his own. You can feel it hit you in a real, tangible way, as the simmering passion in his eyes ignites into a fully realized inferno.
“In truth? It was a dream... A voice in a dream told me I was meant for something else. It spoke to me... with a certainty and intent that no terrestrial thing could manage. It was an assurance, a parting of the waters of fate itself. A....a divine mandate! I can't explain it with language. It was simply a sense of knowing that pervaded all things. I'm not certain what that something else I am destined for is... but I know, with all my being, that this... this Dream Quest is my purpose. It is the ordination of universal law, and I could not steer from it if I chose. No matter what the ends are, I will fulfill them. And I will continue to sojourn until I find that end...
“But no, I don't share such willingly, for fear people think I'm mad. How do you describe the indescribable? It sounds like such inane ramblings... perhaps they are. I can't rightly ask others to entreat me as some celestial harbinger based on the voices of my night terrors... But I know, and that is enough for me. Besides, one hardly needs reasons to be an adventurer nowadays. There's money, glory, all sorts of hedonistic pleasures to be seized... no one asks, no one rightly cares. Heroes with Dream Quests are only fairy tales and legends. For others, it's all about earthly pleasures.â€
He takes his glasses off, breathing onto them and rubbing the lens on his robe as the intensity about him abates. You too would be quick to call the mad house if you hadn't felt it just now. Delusion or not, there was such strength, such passion in his conviction, it had a presence all its own. That was the sort of will, the sort of overwhelming resolution this broken and unbound world needs. You still feel your hand trembling as you record his words on paper. Is this what it felt like... to sit before one touched by destiny?
He places his spectacles back on his nose, pushing them up to eye level, then offering a sweet, pleasant smile. “While I'm in the business of disclosing earth-shattering secrets... I really don't need these. They were a gift from the man I'd mentioned before. At the Arcanist guild. He said they were essential to looking the part... and perception is half of magic. A silly notion, but I've been unable to part with them.â€
93. What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?
“I would like to document fully the nature of the beastmen and their gods. Not as enemies, but that they may be understood, utterly, and in neutrality. It is my belief that scales and fur do not delineate the lack of a soul. They are men.... not men like us, but men all the same. I... I want to believe we may yet live together. It's a big enough world.â€
94. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
“Impossible to say. I come and go as I wish. I may still be traveling... I may be long dead by the time five years comes and goes. I'll move on, with the same sense of wonder and purpose I always maintain.â€
95. If you could choose, how would you want to die?
“A very dark question. But one I can humor. I would like not to die to the gallows of mans kingdom, nor the headsblock of study subjects. If I were to appoint a time and place, it would be... home. The only one I've ever know. For all the disdain which I speak of it's people... I would like to travel back to my tribe's home land. To feel the desert sun's embrace on my skin before it goes cold, and then let the fires take me.
“It's not as though I would have any one to return to, no point in revisiting a bridge burned... Maybe it's just a lingering sense of sentimentality, the same which kept me from simply assuming a new name while in exile... Maybe it's just instinct, to return to the grounds your ancestors lived and died upon.... or maybe I want to die there, just to spite the ones still holed up in that gods forsaken wasteland. Those bastards might tell me where I can't live, but they can't tell me where I can die,†he chuckles, his expression playful to dull the venom of his words.
96. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.
“Ah... a short day's time and much to do. Well nevermind the last answer then, travel would eat most of my time left, and I am not so hateful to squander it all on a single act of spite. No, I'd return to the city and lose all savings in a meal worthy of being a man's last. I'd return to the Arcanist guild and submit my research for publication, woefully incomplete as it is. And even though it would be a feat of time to travel and die where I wanted, I would spend my last few hours writing letters to reach those lands.... horrible, mean letters to people I hated, knowing I would not have to deal with the consequences. I'd entrust them all to the post, then go lay on the beach, and pray that death would claim me, so that I shall not live as a penniless heretic with a dozen foul tempered people bearing letters like invitations to break my every bone."
97. What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?
“I would like to think my actions will be of note after I die. I certainly don't want to die for my cause, martyrdom is a messy business. But once I am gone, fed to flames, interred in the earth, or swinging from the scaffolding, I should hope that what I leave behind will somewhere... in someway... change the world forever. Maybe not drastically. Maybe not immediately. But it will be different, someday, and it will be by something wrought of my own two hands while I was living. And that's the closest to divinity one humble man can aspire, yes?â€
98. What three words best describe your personality?
“Only three? …Precocious, yet puckish.â€
99. What three words would others probably use to describe you?
“I wouldn't presume to know. Perhaps something along the lines of 'that one guy'?â€
100. If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character?
((Cosmic Horror is not a genre you want to be a character in. Get out while you can.))
You feel relived as you write down the last line, your task complete. It certainly wasn't something you were expecting. You eye the young man, your gaze lingering only a moment before you stand and nod respectfully, proclaiming this interview was complete.
The Miqo'te smiles as assuredly as he always does. “That's all then? Should I expect you back in another week with another round of questions? Or perhaps with your report they'll send you back with a blade?†He chuckles and bounces to his feet.
It's completely against protocol but... you assure him you won't be back. His eyes light up, grinning from ear to ear and he bids you off with a courtly bow.
You depart the ramshackle inn, reflecting on your mission. It was a handsome amount of coin for such a simple report. His final question still lingers in the back of your mind, and you wonder if you will indeed be the last to come in search of him. A mission is a mission though, it's unlike you to question orders.
Yet here you stand, simply staring at your chocobo with a fragile grip on the fruit of your labor. It's not as if anything your wrote was particularly damning... And why would it matter if you did? It's just a report, it's not as if you signed off on a death warrant. As you begin to gather your resolve though, a swift gust snatches the stack of papers from your hands, sending them fluttering and soaring in all directions. You snatch at the air feebly in attempt to salvage a page or two, but the wind spirits them away as quickly as it came.
You howl in frustration. All that effort! Gone! Even if the damnable cat hadn't fled the scene yet it was doubtful he would assist in covering up your stupid mistake. Hesitation has cost you a job. You've never failed a job before...
K'dath smiles from his rooftop perch, giggling as Garuda-egi roosts on his shoulder. He teases her plumage with a finger, gingerly plucking a slip of paper from her beak. “What can I say?†he purrs to himself, dismissing the summon with a snap hand movement. “Mischief is a guilty pleasure...â€