There were a few things that were constants in this world, but what you could always rely on was conflict and ambition, and it just so happened that both of these were packed into a nice and neat little package. Her small feet clicked against the stone covered ground of Ul'dah's paved streets. Ozma's walk was slightly off today, perhaps it was her old bones, or maybe it was because she was still recovering from her run in with that Immortal Flame soldier.Â
Ozma: "Wait a minute? Old bones? Just what are you trying to say?! I'm not old!"
*Ozma casts fire on the narrator, chasing them off.*
"Now then, let me tell you how it really is. Ozma walked proudly walked down the street of Ul'dah. Her youthful and intelligent appearance had attracted her quite a following and her adoring worshipers bowed at her arrival, throwing roses at her feet as they all vied for her attention. Even just a glance from her would be enough, it was as much as they could hope for."
As she passed by the Gate of Nald she had noticed the hooded figure coming in. If there were two things she learned in her life its: one, people in hoods have something to hide, and two, you attract less attention when you try to blend instead of sticking out like a sore thumb, and this man...he stuck out like as if someone banged that thumb with a hammer while trying to build Ozma a statue to match her greatness.
The small woman casually approached him as her mind analyzed his every movement as if trying to gauge him with that judgemental stare of hers. As she got right next to him she  began walking circles around him as she tapped her chin, studying him like a scientist would study one of their lab rats.
"You know, you are absolutely horrid at this. The hood, the limp, everyone from here to Gridania could tell you that something about you is amiss. No, no, no, this simply cannot be allowed. You'll at least have to lose that robe if you want to blend into the crowd."
![[Image: 6f6zqx.jpg]](http://i59.tinypic.com/6f6zqx.jpg)
Ozma: "Wait a minute? Old bones? Just what are you trying to say?! I'm not old!"
*Ozma casts fire on the narrator, chasing them off.*
"Now then, let me tell you how it really is. Ozma walked proudly walked down the street of Ul'dah. Her youthful and intelligent appearance had attracted her quite a following and her adoring worshipers bowed at her arrival, throwing roses at her feet as they all vied for her attention. Even just a glance from her would be enough, it was as much as they could hope for."
As she passed by the Gate of Nald she had noticed the hooded figure coming in. If there were two things she learned in her life its: one, people in hoods have something to hide, and two, you attract less attention when you try to blend instead of sticking out like a sore thumb, and this man...he stuck out like as if someone banged that thumb with a hammer while trying to build Ozma a statue to match her greatness.
The small woman casually approached him as her mind analyzed his every movement as if trying to gauge him with that judgemental stare of hers. As she got right next to him she  began walking circles around him as she tapped her chin, studying him like a scientist would study one of their lab rats.
"You know, you are absolutely horrid at this. The hood, the limp, everyone from here to Gridania could tell you that something about you is amiss. No, no, no, this simply cannot be allowed. You'll at least have to lose that robe if you want to blend into the crowd."
"So sharp end faces the enemy. Okay, got it."
- Domino Quixote
- Domino Quixote
