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...And Into The Fire (Completed | OoC Welcome)

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Melkire Melkire Find all posts by this user Gruff Gutterborn Murder Hobo Posts:2,470 Joined:Mar 2014 Character:Osric Melkire Server:Balmung Reputation: 505 Timezone:UTC+4 RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) | #4 04-24-2014, 01:28 AM (This post was last modified: 04-30-2014, 01:04 PM by Melkire.) He was sitting upright on his bunk, staring down at the opened letter in his hands, and it took everything he had to keep from accidentally tearing the paper in two, he was shaking so hard.   Thal’s Ball, what a ruttin’ mess this is turning out to be. What is this? What in Ifrit’s flamin’ piss is this?! Where did it come from? How did it find me?   More importantly, where had Erik Mynhier disappeared to, and how was he back, to be writing and mailing him missives delivered from gods-know-where?   I nearly died because of you. I lied for you. I conspired for you. What gives you the right to come marching right on back as if nothing ever happened? What gives you the gods-damned right?!   He folded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope before tossing it back onto his bunk. He was just in time; his shoulders starting quaking as he sat there, seething, and the shaking went on, unceasing.   Unrelenting.         "You are in business that is beyond your rank and pay, even beyond this unfortunate city's politics."   Understatement of the ruttin' century.   The man took another step down the stairs toward him. The sergeant took another step back, another step down.   He had done his research. The very next sun after the ball, he had reached out to what informants he kept in regular contact with. Noscea, Thanalan, the works. He had gone further: he’d told them to reach out and touch their contacts, as well, all the way up the continent, even to the frigid highlands of Coerthas. He had bled gil, and promised more, for information on one Xydane Vale. What he’d gotten back was, to put it plainly, downright terrifying.   House of Fortemps. Confirmed dragonslayer. Carves up thieves for breakfast.   A certain ex-thief was sure to be pissin’ his breeches very shortly, if he hadn’t already.   Bad enough that he’d run into Vale here, now, in the Onyx district of Ul’dah. Bad enough that there was a woman being accosted - childish notions o’ chivalry are idiotic and are goan t’get you killed, ya dodo – which meant he hadn’t been able to simply walk away, oh no, not him. No, the worst of it was that Xydane Vale was not alone.   Marcus “Yin” was here, as well. And he had traded insults with the man, for the sake of his own bluffing.   He was bluffing because he was certain that if he came to grips with either of these men, he was a dead man, and it’d be a very ugly, very painful way to die.   The threat to call in the Flames isn’t a bluff.   No, but it was stupid. Stupid, because he’d be dead long before reinforcements arrived. Stupid, because the men before him would be long gone by then. Stupid, because the last time he had relied on the official linkshell, the Flames had failed him.   Not counting the dead body. Containment and Clean-up responded quickly, there.   The dead body that Vale was now claiming to belong to one of Mynhier’s would-be assassins.   "Captain Erik Mynhier is safe and has been relocated after the failed assassination attempt at the Royal Ball. You remember that all too well, don't you?" "Where. Is. He." "If I was to give you that information, the Faces of Mercy will seek to rip that secret from your screams of death. I have given you a peace of mind. Take it and leave."   His mind flashed back to the Elezen that he had ravaged. Beaten, bloodied, needled, carved, sliced, tormented, broken. The crazed Elezen who had raved of vengeance, who had begged for “mercy” as Melkire had gone about his work, demanding information, demanding a name.   ”WHO SENT YOU?! he had bellowed. "WHO RUTTIN’ SENT YOU?!"   ”Mercy,” the Elezen had wheezed between maniacal laughter and shrieks of agony. That had infuriated the sergeant. That this cowardly, incompetent slime would beg for mercy while he had undoubtedly never given his victims any….   Except maybe he hadn’t been begging, after all.   The Faces of Mercy.   The one name he’d gotten out of that peiste-begotten assassin had been “Ishgard”.   Xydane Vale was supposedly Ishgardian…   …and then there was Mynhier’s heritage to consider.   Damn it. Damn it all.   It took him every onze of his wit - arguing, wheedling, sounding out the logic, threatening, bluffing, lying, begging - to appeal to man at the top of the stairs.   “Let me help.”   Nymeia be thanked, Vale did.   Vale did.         They had snuck out of the city, the three of them - Vale, Melkire, and the lady - by way of the Gate of Thal. From there, they'd made their way under the stealth of night to the Coffer & Coffin, where they found her waiting for them. Her.   The Miqo'te woman.   "Xydane, I am taking a big risk..." "And so am I." They'd gone inside, then. There, under the deep shadows in the corner at the back of the bar, he had learned that Vale's promises weren't worth a tuco's piss. He'd divulged to the woman the details regarding the botched assassination attempt at the captain's residence, and she'd told him that Mynhier had been her agent in Ul'dah... and that she hadn't been able to contact him for over a sennight.   In hindsight, it was a wonder that Vale hadn't simply killed him then and there, what with how he had all but spat in the man's face.   "You said he was safe!" Back to square one they'd gone... but only momentarily. Turned out Vale knew a man, another knight, who could possibly track the captain down. Melkire had retorted that without a means of contact, Vale and the "exiles" were of no use to him. What was more, if Mynhier had been their man, then those selfsame "exiles" had just been blinded to Ul'dah.   He had no desire to stand still and watch as the conspirators inadvertently drew his city into a small-scale war.   So he'd grudgingly given them pearls. Two pearls, one for Vale, one for the Miqo'te. His own private linkshell, the one he'd been saving as a gift for his folks back in Limsa.   All work and no play. Work, work, work work work.   He'd given them his brother's name as an alias. Thomys. And he had left it at that, left them to their shadows as he stole outside into the breaking dawn.   He had a meeting to attend. But before that...   Before that, he had some business to conduct. A professional to see. A consultant.       He had run into Kahna's Od'hilkas first.   And the Red Wings? Should they be told? Or am I lying to them, as well?   Indeed, they should be told. They already know of the Exiles and I.   He had met Od'hilkas a sennight ago - everything seems to have happened a sennight ago - he had met him a sennight ago, at the Quicksand, and they had hit it off almost immediately. He'd gotten the Miqo'te hooked on spiked pineapple juice; the Miqo'te had reminded him not to trust others with his personal stock. He'd poked fun at the cat-man's physiology; the cat-man blithely told him to go shove it, though not in so many words.   He'd been surprised to learn, not even a sun ago, that the man had recently enlisted; more so to learn that he had recently been inducted into the Red Wings. Even more so that Peak's missives regarding the captain had never reached them. So he had invited him to the search party's first debriefing.   Wherever Mynhier is, they are tailing him right now. The Red Wings might know.   I just spoke with their most junior today. They're in the dark. I'm meeting with them tomorrow.   Here, now, on his way to find his consultant, he had taken Od'hilkas aside by the arm.   "I found Vale. And a woman. Miqo'te. Says she knows you Red Wings. This true?" "Wh-what name does she go by?" The sergeant had opened his mouth... and then snapped it closed.   "Damn. I was so busy covering my own ass that I forgot to lift her skirts.... She had a spear. Keeper. Shorter than I. Said Erik was her man inside." "She's right... but that she holds such information, it's-"  "Told me to tell you, she's lost the captain. Red Wings should know. Keep this quiet. Especially at the meeting. Blades, Flames, 'sworn... they hear about this, it all blows up in our faces." "Lost? She knew where he was, and no one got informed?" "That was my reaction. I don't trust her. Maybe you Red Wings do. Not my call." "You can trust my silence at the meeting, but I'll need to know more. After, when we can't be overheard." "I'll feed you what information I can, when I can."   And that had been that.   He sat down, reached into a belt pouch, and came out with a linkpearl, slamming it down onto the tabletop.   Endemerrin Rosethorne, magitek expert extraordinaire, laughed faintly as a grin spread across his cheeks. "Well, then."   Osric pointed at the bauble. "This has two matching pearls on the same shell. Can they be traced? From this one."   The man pursed his lips. "...I suppose with the right tools, maybe. It'd be quite the feat. It's easy enough to cancel out linkpearl signals with generators, but-" "Can it be done?"   "Ah... Maybe? Sounds like a fun project, at the very least." "Would you need this one on hand?" "Most likely. As well as a few other things." He reached into his pocket and pulled out another pearl, sent it sliding across the table to Merri. "The fourth." A smirk.  "There's no fifth, I promise." He tucked the first pearl away. "Materials? Payment? A way to reach you. Not to rush, but I needed this done, like, two bells ago." "Well, so long as you don't mind waiting a few more. I'd have to stop by my workshop. I've an idea or two, though...."   "I'd, ah, not recommend using the thing. To communicate. Sensitive matters. Military."   "Nnh.... Why not just go straight to the Garlond Ironworks if it's something like that?"   "Because Garlond is up to his arms in gods know what, his apprentices are booked, and word on the street is you're the next big thing. Up-and-coming star. And... this isn't exactly on the books. Or on the level, either."   Rosethorne laughed somewhat tiredly."Flattered to know my reputation is still floating around. Here I thought the calamity and my leaving the Ironworks put a cork in that." He reached forward and plucked up the linkpearl. "Got something I can actually use to contact you with?"   Osric grimaced. "This was supposed to be for exactly that. Alas, gave the others to some suspect characters. Hence the need to track them down on demand."   "Right. I, ah... I got it covered. Here," he said, digging into a pouch at his hip and passing over a sky-blue linkpearl.  "No promises on whether or not I'll be able to throw something together, but I'll give you a ring on this pearl if and when I do." "And the rest? Materials needed? Your fee?"   "Pff.... I've got the materials around my workshop, I'm sure. We can discuss the coin later. Won't be anything outrageous ...Though when next we do meet, I'd love some sort of, you know... identification. I'd rather not be unwittingly breaking the law."   "I'm the one breaking the law. This bit o' work you'll be doing?" He stood up. "Helping to unbreak it."       The meeting.   Kahn'a had shown up. Osric nearly laughed aloud when the private had walked up and saluted him first, out of everyone in the room. Instead, he had returned the gesture... before pointing out Commander Swift down at the head of the table. The Miqo'te had flushed red as he ran over there to correct his mistake.   Ser Deneith's late. Where in the seven hells is that woman...?   "Sergeant. Please have a seat, we'll be starting shortly."   He sat down to the table with Swift, Rand, Kokojo, and Od'hilkas. He sat down to lie to the very authority to which he'd committed his life.   The Sultansworn never showed.   Here, now, bells later, on his bunk, quivering, the second missive in his hands. The one from Kahn'a. He read it aloud in the privacy of his quarters.   "Urgent. Come now, post-haste. Vesper Bay. Lives endangered. The Captain is depending on us."   He didn't have time for this. He didn't... but he'd have to make time anyway. He took a few short breaths, and read it aloud again. And again. And again. Until he stopped shaking.   He tucked Od'hilka's missive away into his pocket, then took up the captain's letter and threw it into the blazing fireplace before heading out the door, heading for Vesper Bay.   You. I'll deal with you later.

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Messages In This Thread

...And Into The Fire (Completed | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 04-18-2014, 10:37 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Kahn'a - 04-21-2014, 09:31 AM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 04-23-2014, 04:01 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 04-24-2014, 01:28 AM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Kahn'a - 04-26-2014, 05:56 AM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 04-29-2014, 11:16 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 05-02-2014, 05:57 AM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 05-08-2014, 07:19 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Roen - 05-08-2014, 07:44 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Xydane - 05-10-2014, 02:44 AM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Knight Kat - 05-10-2014, 10:52 AM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 05-11-2014, 05:41 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Xydane - 05-18-2014, 02:16 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 05-21-2014, 04:22 AM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 05-22-2014, 08:33 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 06-23-2014, 07:48 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Melkire - 07-22-2014, 12:10 PM RE: ...And Into The Fire (Open | OoC Welcome) - by Tiergan - 07-22-2014, 05:27 PM

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