• Login
  • Register
Hello There, Guest!

Username:

Password:

Remember me

Lost PW Lost Password?

Advanced Search
  • Rules
  • Staff
  • Wiki
  • Free Companies
  • Linkshells
  • Calendar
  • Chat
  • Gallery
  • Donate
home Hydaelyn Role-Players → Role-Play → Town Square (IC) v
« Previous 1 … 7 8 9 10 11 … 56 Next »
→

Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open]


RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Please be sure to visit https://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/ directly for the new page.

Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open]
Threaded Mode | Linear Mode
Pages (3): « Previous 1 2 3 Next »

Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#16
09-04-2014, 09:34 PM
The sun was hanging low in the afternoon as Coatleque finally emerged from the inn. Dressed entirely in black, she stood at the rail just beyond the front door looking up to the sky. Almost as if on queue, her comrade found her once more. It almost made her crack a smile. It seems she could always depend on Natalie.

"Um..."
"Natalie."
"What's with the color?"
"Is black not appropriate for mourning?"

She shruged. "Black is fine, I think it's the late Mr Tane who isn't really appropriate for mourning." She tapped her jaw, "Though I hardly knew him, perhaps there was more to him than I saw."

"Perhaps not. Nobody deserves his fate though." She paused. "He was there at my request. He died on my watch. I feel partially responsible."

"Partially maybe..." she gave her a tired smile, "But the smallest of part Mr. Tane didn't have the most agreeable of personalities. Not everyone is as patient as you Ser. If he wasn't with you he would have just been attacked wherever he was instead."

"Be that as it may, he deserves at least one person to ... acknowledge his absence... I assume he has been interred at the Lich yard?"

"I took him to the Ossuary, Lieutenant Khan went with me, he'll be properly dealt this.", she said with a tilt of her head. Her eyes then rolled with some measure of annoyance. "Despite the people who wanted to bury him outside the city like some sort of leper."

"Then that is where I shall be if I am needed."
Natalie sighed. "Very well..."

The Knight turned to head towards the crypt when Natalie stopped her with another word. "Oh..."
"Yes?"
"I heard they may have captured the killer?"
"I heard rumor of that, but no confirmation for sure. I shall have to look into it later...", to which Natalie nodded.

"Natalie?"
The Miqo'te walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Coatleque..." She gave it a reassuring squeeze, "Not your fault."
Coatleque nodded quietly to her in return. "Thank you."

Natalie suddenly averted her eyes after the unexpected outpouring of emotion. She felt... embarrassed? Her hand quickly dropped away. "A-anyway...", she started before clearing her throat. "I better get back to work."
"Y-yes, of course. If you need me...well... you know."
She nodded once more before they both turned and departed.

***


She sat kneeling before the statue in the Ossuary. Her prayers had been uttered to Nald'thal seeking this one's safe passing into the realm that awaited him. So intent was she that she did not hear her friend enter behind and quietly stand watching her. He could tell plainly what she was there for from her dress, and did not want to interrupt.

When she had finished she made a few motions with her hands then wiped a tear from her face. She stood and turned then noticed the familiar colored armor of the Knight behind her.

"Ser Filangieri."
"Miss Crofte. My condolences for your loss..."
"Not mine. Per say. But thank you. Someone I knew from my past."
"I see. A close friend?"
"Neither close, nor a friend. But he had nobody else who would mourn him."
"Understood... Tis why you are dressed so...dimly then."
"Aye. He was killed in front of me and I could not react. I feel ... responsible."
"So I've heard... Do you know who and...why?"
"I do not. But it could have been almost anyone in this case. He was not... well liked. Still, he would not have been there if I hadn't asked him to meet with me."
"Do not fall into despair m'lady. I too have endured similar losses in the past..."
"I do not think it is despair... I... I din'nae know what I feel right now. Conflicted. Perhaps responsible... we had... history together. Bad as it was. I knew his other... acquaintances would not be here."
"Strange...appears as if that person meant something to you. I would tell you elaborate, but my heart tells me that you would not feel at ease in doing so."
She averted her eyes downward with a slow shake of her head.
"Do you want to talk somewhere else?"
"It is nae here nor there. Suffice tae say I knew him more than most. I... should be fine, thank you. I just... would like a little more time alone."
"Twelve watch over you then Miss Crofte."
"And you..."

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#17
09-15-2014, 10:15 PM
The door to the barracks flung open wide, startling some of the soldiers who had not yet passed to slumber. Silhouetted in the dim torchlight from beyond was Ser Crofte, still in full regalia, and back from the bar. Three nights this week the same pattern was repeated, though this was the first she actually had made it back to the Palace. The Knight stumbled forward, not even bothering to close the door, and staggered to the first available bed. Barely even able to climb inside, she was comatose with one armored leg still touching the floor.

Ser Travanchet rose from his own bunk and moved to close the door. Without a word he went to her and pulled the covers over so she would at least remain decent should day break. She did not stir. He merely stood and watched her while deep in his own thoughts. He understood her pain for what that was worth. She had taken a risk and lost much recently. Was there no one to stand in her defense?

Her slow deterioration was completely unexpected. So unlike her, it was becoming noticed now. If something was not done surely the Captain would have words with her. Ser Travanchet did not want to see that happen. None of them did. She was well respected among the Gallants, but this depression was starting to affect overall morale. His mind was made up.

Twenty minutes later the Elezen was fully dressed once more in his own regalia. As he left the palace he motioned for two of his shield brothers to accompany him. Not Gallants, but novices. Men who had still proved their own worth to serve and had taken their oaths. Their goal was to find the man. He liked to frequent the Quicksand - that is where the two had met - that is where they would begin their search. For their shield sister's sake, they would not relent this night until recompense had been made.

***


Coatleque sat the next morning in the mess hall. A cup of strong coffee was at the table before her, and a half-eaten breakfast of sausages and eggs to the side. Her head throbbed and she found herself holding her temples on more than one occasion.

It was odd, really. She had not even tasted alcohol till only a few months ago when Jancis's betrothed had given her a cup of wine. There was plenty of it in the brothel, for sure, but that was specifically for clients. For someone such as her to touch it would have met harsh punishment at the hand of the Master. But now... now she began to understand the appeal of it to some. It dulled the pain in her heart. For a few hours at least it made her think of other things besides Warren's face. It made her forget the sweet words spoken in private, the promises unfulfilled, the stupid mistake she made of daring to fall in love again.

She shook her head. It was not even mid-morning and once again she felt the urge to go back to the Quicksand.
Just make it stop...

She tried to focus on her work. There were papers in front of her, a report by Ser Mcbeef regarding the interrogation of some prisoner or another. It may have been the one taken from the raid on Taeros's Somnus shipment. Despite her best efforts she could not muster enough care to worry over it. Flipping through the report she barely skimmed over the informative parts. The last bit mentioned the prisoner's execution at the end of the session. She sighed. This was too much, and she just could not deal with it now.

Lowering the papers she happened to look up and noticed Ser Travanchet at the far wall speaking to two others and looking directly at her. She rolled her eyes and stood to walk over. She knew the signs of being spoken about behind one's back. The Elezen quickly looked to the others he was with as she made her way across the room.

"Ser Travanchet.", she said with a salute. "If you have words for me, I prefer you say them directly. There is no room here for rumors and hearsay among the ranks."

"Ser Crofte.", he replied while returning the salute. His head held high, she never realized just how long his neck was. "I just want you to know that your shield brothers are here for you. We know what transpired between yourself and Ser Castille. He shall not be bothering you again."

The Elezen and his comrades bowed and left together. She stood and watched them leave, unsure of what to make of all this. She did not have time to think on it more as Ser Sadowyn's voice broke through on the Sworn's linkpearl.

"Ser Crofte, are you busy?"
"No, Ser."
"Please meet me in the airship landing's lounge. We must needs discuss Natalie."
"... Aye, Ser."

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#18
09-21-2014, 07:00 PM
Coatleque sat clutching the ring as she quietly watched the rain. She had returned to her room for its safe-keeping but found it hard to leave now. The chair had been moved closer to the balcony and the doors were open. Outside was raging one of Thanalan's storms that seemed to come and go without a moment's notice.

The best part of the rain is that no one can distinguish it from your own tears. If only she was outside.

The ring had been damaged in some way, and repaired afterword. Not that she did not appreciate the attempt made. It was unclear to her what she was more upset about. That the break had occurred, or that Warren had been in that much danger to begin with. But also that woman.

It infuriated her that he had chosen the other over herself. She did her best to ignore them at the Grindstone. But the way the other woman seemed so disinterested. So... nonchalant over everything going on. Warren himself had also changed, she could tell. He seemed tired, haggard even; He looked beat, and not just emotionally. Fighting a losing battle perhaps. He looked nothing like the Paladin she had known. Coatleque knew she would never have treated him that way. It vexed her beyond words.

The half bottle of cinnamon whiskey still sat on the dresser. She pondered it briefly but turned back to the window. Too much time was already wasted that way. She had decided as much while away in La Noscea. A fool, she was, to let her guard down so easily. Things would be different going forward, she told herself, no more unnecessary distractions.

A slight buzzing sound came from the small pouch of linkpearls she carried. With a sigh she reached in and found the one that had activated, quickly switching it with the one at her ear.
"Ser Crofte?", came Osric's voice.
"Ser?"
"I have an update for you..."

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#19
09-30-2014, 12:32 AM
The night had progressed relatively pain-free for the Paladin so far. After the events of the the moon prior where the maniacal Mistress Meli attempted to charm the Sultana herself into the Cult of Pink, this night had been rather dull.

The sky was clear and the stars shown brightly amidst the dry air. Fiona Arasgain stood leaning against the high wall of a dirty building in an alley adjacent Pearl Lane. A lantern flickered above, casting long shadows across the road. Opposite her stood Coatleque with hands on her hips. She had followed the other from the Quicksand to find somewhere more fitting to exchange words.

"I have news regarding the accused smuggler. He's entrusted me with the location of his next hideaway. It's in Coerthas."
"Coerthas... that is quite the distance."
"But away from prying eyes."
"Indeed... and have you informed Natalie?"
Fiona pushed her glasses up and sighed.
"It'll be one hell of a job. And no, I haven't. I was hoping you would for me, actually."

Coatleque breathed a quiet sigh of momentary relieve at that last bit of news.
"Is he there now then?"
"I have reason to believe so, Miss. I don't doubt that it'll be dangerous, either. So if anybody is running down this lead, they best be prepared."
"I don't suppose he would parley with me then. Hmm."
"Natalie may be the best option, unfortunately. She'd charge right in, though. Still, it's an option to consider."

Yes, Natalie would charge right in. Without thought or concern. The Knight knew if she alerted Natalie of this information now, she would take the resources required and flush him out like a cornered Rat. And if Roen was there...

"Depending on the desired results. There is a reason I asked you to keep me informed as well."
"Oh? And what would that be, Miss?"
"Because Natalie has a penchant for misusing the information she has. She would simply take a platoon and march in the front door to accomplish her goal."
"Of course. She nearly got me killed in Limsa Lominsa because of it, actually. Due to a happy coincidence and a few lies, I'm no longer in danger. Also, he's asking me to bring him Ceruleum."

Ceruleum. She was becoming so very weary of hearing that word. It seemed as if it were some priceless commodity these days. All the wrong people wanted it, and none of the right people had it. But where Ceruleum is involved, large, violent holes in the ground soon follow in her experience. She decided to overlook this for now.

"So he expects you to meet him there?"
"No, he expects me to place it at a dead drop and camouflage it."
"Smart man."
"Can't have life getting easy, either. I even tried seducing him, but that didn't work, mostly because he has a significant other. Of who it is, I cannot say. Otherwise, we could capture him or her and use them as a hostage."

Coatleque blinked. She knew exactly what Fiona did not. She silently said a prayer to the Twelve that Roen would not be in Coerthas.

"No. She is of no consequence. Probably some silly school-girl with a crush on the first handsome face to bat an eye at her."
"Why not? If she's of emotional significance, it's a weakness to be exploited against your foe. After all, the only thing that really matters is power. Who is strong, who is weak. And he spoke well of her, actually. So I have my doubts that it's a passing dalliance."
"Because that is how Natalie works, not how I work. We can do what needs be done while involving as few as possible."
"Natalie lacks subtlety. She'd kill the target before she had a chance to use said target."

She needed to change this subject again, fast...

"So then do you know the actual location, or only the meeting site?"
"The base is located in Providence Point. Likely in a crag or cave."
"When is he expecting the delivery?"
"I'm not sure. But he'll get it soon. Why do you ask?"
"We need to know exactly where we are going, what we are dealing with. I could observe it from a distance, then trail the proxy back to their base."
"The drop off point is in Limsa Lominsa, so there's going to be some shipping. Plus, I board a boat in a few bells to go back and make the delivery."

Ah, finally something she could work with. She knew she had to reach Nero before Natalie. If anything else to warn Roen at the very least. If they really cared so much for each other, perhaps she could convince them to give up this mad crusade and leave Eorzea. Roen still had family after all, no matter how distant...

"And I suppose no way for me to stow-away. Providence Point is a large area to search, and very mountainous. My only other option, if not to trail them myself, is to hope I find a familiar face in Dragonhead."
"You could, if you wanted to. The only stipulation would be that you stay far away when I make the drop. I'd rather not see you hurt, Miss Crofte. Ceruleum is volatile stuff."
"And I would prefer to keep my limbs intact."
Fiona nodded once.
"Is there anything else you might want to know, Miss Crofte?"
"Aye, do you think me a fool for this?"
"Why would I think you a fool, Miss? I only think we have differences on how we operate, but we desire to see the same end result. I hope."

Coatleque swallowed at this. She knew full well her own goals no longer aligned with Natalies, nor Fiona's. Did she even have a goal in mind? No. She had determined long ago that this whole matter was not the Sultansworn's business. Her Grace's hand was not yet forced. They had no reason to intervene. This was between the Syndicate and the Admiral. The Flames would be called before the Sworn were.

"Of course. Very well... let me know when the drop is to be made. I shall travel back to Limsa with you and prepare to stow away. I must needs find out where they are hiding and see for myself before informing Natalie. We share a Palace linkpearl, so they will all know where I am once I report in."
"Meet me near the docks in two bells. I need to deal with a few things. And by the way, I didn't know that about the Sultansworn, actually. Thanks for the tip.", she said, smiling jokingly.
Coatleque gave her a half-smile in return.
"As if such a prominent organization would be mute?"
"True, but you could have used carrier birds for all I know."
"Eorzea is not -that- primitive, Miss. Two bells, near the docks. I shall be there." "Didn't mean to imply it. Just that some people are traditional. And I'll see you there, Miss Crofte. Be careful."
"Am I ever not?"

The Knight spun on her heel and made back towards the Hourglass.

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#20
10-13-2014, 09:52 AM
Quote:Darkness. Thunder. Then rain. Driving, pelting rain. It gave the deck of the ship the appearance of glass between lightning strikes. Her body laid at the stern of the ship leaning against the rail in a pool of blood.

{Jana} "She's... DEAD!"

Coatleque turned slowly from the bow and began to move towards her. Cloaked figures with dark faces flanked her on either side. Through all the cacophony was a deafening silence that made her own heart beat rise to her ears in protest. She wanted to bolt, to run to her side, but her feet would not move. Slowly she glided the length of the deck.

{Brynnalia} "I'm gonna get it for this..."

It was cold. So cold. Her skin had lost its usual tan already, traded for the sickly ashen colour of death. Coatleque found herself kneeling, arms spread over her. Her pitiful attempts at conjury were forefront in her mind as she poured forth all her strength. She could see her. Feel her. Natalie's soul, departing.

She clutched at it and pulled, drawing her back. With all her might she tried...
Nothing.
Like trying to make a rock stick to meat, she simply would not come back. For a brief moment, Coatleque thought she felt... perhaps she did not want to.

{Coatleque} "Damn... You... "

Her strength faltered as she reached the limit of her endurance, and her Aether field began to dissipate over the body. Blinking away her tears she looked down as darkness began to overtake her. For all the woman's troubles, for all the weights and burdens she had carried, finally... finally... she looked at peace.

Coatleque woke from the dream but did not sit. She laid there pondering the night's events. There was no rain, there were no figures. But Natalie... was gone. She rolled over and pulled the covers tight. There would be much to answer for in the days ahead.

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#21
10-16-2014, 02:26 PM
Coatleque stepped into the Captain's office quietly and closed the door behind her. She was sure to step lightly the entire time, as if everything here was made of delicate porcelain. Turning to face him, she stepped to the side at attention per her usual style. There was obvious tension in the air, and perhaps some fear as well. "You summoned me, Ser?" Jenlyns looked...displeased. His light blonde brows were drawn deeply downward, as the edge of his lips. His eyes however looked wearied. His hands folded in front of him on the desk, and the pile of parchments on both sides of him seemed taller than ever. "Ser Crofte."

"I need your account of events that led to Ser Mcbeef's death. And I need to know everything. What may not even be put into writing." His tone was cold but even. She swallowed hard unsure of where to begin. Her report had been as detailed as she could bear to make it. With every attempt made not to stammer before him, she began to recount that night from the beginning. Jenlyns waved his hand once with a shake of his head. "I have read your report. All of it. What I want are your impressions, Crofte. Because what the entire affair amounted to... could lead La Noscea into war with us. Or at least demand arrests, retributions and executions for the attack on their sovereignty. Without due cause." His eyes bore into the woman, his jaw was set.

Her eye darted around the room in thought as the night replayed in her mind once more. "I can see no other recourse, Ser. I have tried to, but... I cannot deny what Natalie has done. I only assisted her because I had thought I could prevent just that."
"But you didn't."
"No... I did not. And now my shield sister lies dead because of it."
"An explosive was set, and property on a foreign soil was destroyed. By the members of THIS Order." He exhaled sharply, closing his eyes. The displeasure on his face was obvious. "Her death was tragic and needless, Crofte. But the cause of it...she left a potential political disaster on our hands."
She noded slowly in agreement. "Aye, Ser. I had tried to tell her from the start to leave this to the politicians."
"I have yet to hear from Maelstorm accusing us. Whatever Maelstorm you ran into have not reported or identified the lot yet."
She sighed, perhaps in a little relief.
His eyes narrowed as if to extinguish whatever relief he saw surface on her visage. "It is only a matter of time, Crofte. Questions are already being raised about Mcbeef's death. Your report has not made the rounds yet, but when Swift and the Immortal Flames get a hold of it..."
It certainly worked as her brows turned upwards once more. "Aye Ser..."
He shook his head. "You tell me how this should end, Crofte."

Coatleque looked momentarily taken aback at the command. It certainly was not expected.
"I... I do not understand. I thought... was I not summoned to answer for this?"
"You are." The captain's voice remained calm. "But I have seen you grow in your role, Crofte. I have come to see you take initiative. Your intent on trying to stop Mcbeef from committing this fiasco...was a right one. But you failed to execute. So I am asking you now. What do you think your fate is now. It is not your decision. But you are still an officer in this Order. I want to hear your thoughts before I make my decision. Do you see any other way of righting this wrong?"
Her eyes fluttered as she glanced around the room, still unsure of herself. "I... I was complicit... I had thought to do what was honourable and turn myself over... but... I still do not see this as a matter for her Grace's guard... the Flames should be involved. I do have the letter Natalie retrieved from the warehouse before... before..." Her brows furrow in thought again.

"The way I see it, if this does come back to us, we need to have justification, even a hint of it, to answer to Maelstrom's accusations."
"I could not imagine how to address the Maelstrom. Perhaps Master Taeros would know how to smooth things over. You mean to prove the Pirate was also a threat to La Noscea?"
The crease upon his browns visibly deepened at the Monetarists' name.
"Taeros. I knew of Mcbeef's involvement with his agenda. But I had thought it an investigation on her free time and nothing more." His voice lowered. "But he is a civilian. A noble. He has no authority in this matter. When it comes down to it, the responsibility of our actions falls upon the Order."
"Of course, Ser."
"If I then have to seek his aid in rectifying the damage done to our Order..." he closed his hands into a fist. "I will do what must be done." He shot her a hard look. "Do not mistake that for me agreeing with the man's agenda."
"Never, Ser. I have worked with him as required myself, but he has not bought me yet."
After a pause, Jenlyn's expression cooled back to semblance of neutrality. "But aye. Should this come back to us, I need some proof that supports Mcbeef's claim to even look into that warehouse. This pirate. If we can prove that he is a valid threat to us, then we may be able to justify this raid. If an immediate threat to La Noscea as well, they MAY not seek your head on a pike."
She closed her eyes and swallowed again at that thought.

"So my question to you is. IS this Pirate a threat?"
"I aim to find out, Ser. And I will start where Ser Mcbeef left off. Rest assured I do not work with bombs."
"Speaking of bombs." Jenlyns looked more displeased, as if that was possible. "Mergrey. Foolish."
"Agreed, Ser."
"Some of this blame will fall back on the Red Wings."
"Captain Mynheir is already aware."
"I had not called Melkire on it when he brought me Mcbeef's...relations to visit her body. But..." He flicked her a glance. "If they want to clear their name, I suggest you work with Melkire on this as well. If they can also prove that this Pirate is a danger to both sovereignties, then all the better for both our organizations."
"Aye Ser. As chance would have it, I had already intended to. I am scheduled to have drinks with the Sergeant, assuming I had survived this meeting."
"If they were already asking for your head, I would have no choice."
"Understood, Ser."
"As the Spinner would have it, they have not yet identified you."
The Knight looked up and makes some vague hand gesture in reverence to Nymeia at his words.
"I know Mcbeef's involvement with Taeros led her on this foolish quest. Although I would be a fool to to think that he was pulling her strings like a puppet. And as suspect as he may be in these matters, I have yet to have any proof that he intends the Sultanate any ill will. Despite Melkire's thoughts on the matter."
"Aye, Ser. I am in agreement."
"If Taeros is proven treacherous, then it will sully us as well, for Mcbeef allied with him. But I will not condone treachery. That will be a burden we will bear if that is the truth of things. But if Taeros and Mcbeef were right about this pirate, then proving him as a threat, will bode will for the Order, Sultanate, and this political fiasco Mcbeef has left behind. Understood?"
"Aye, Ser."

Jenlyns let out a long exhale, leaning back. "Think of this as a temporary reprieve, Crofte. You are running out of time. This will...come out, I fear."
"It seems my investigations are always on a tight schedule."
"That is our lot in life, Crofte. The scales always must be balanced, and things weigh them daily."
She nodded once more in agreement, looking towards the floor.
"Am I dismissed, Ser?"
"I do not wish to hand you over as the scapegoat, Crofte. Not if there is valid case. So your fate is in your hands." He exhaled. "Dismissed."

She saluted him as best she could under the circumstances before turning and letting herself out just as quietly as she came.

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#22
10-20-2014, 04:46 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-20-2014, 04:47 PM by Coatleque.)
Coatleque stepped into the door of the estate wearing her white dress after a long afternoon at Bronze Lake. Her previous clothes had been drenched as three rain storms had come and gone in the course of two hours. "This feels much better already.", she remarked as she scanned the ground floor of Coral's house. "We...have much to discuss? Perhaps in some degree of privacy I'd hope?", a large Roegadyn asked rather amused that they were both so nicely dressed. It was the voice of Iron Sea. Having put aside his mourning long enough to sober up, he decided to take her up on the offer of work. She had the mind to keep him busy to distract him from Natalie's absence. They did indeed have much to discuss. She nodded in agreement. "Yes, of course. Either upstairs at the table, or here should suffice, unless you desire more security. I am afraid I have no room of mine own here. I spend most of my nights in the Hourglass, or the Palace's barracks."

"Depends on the flow of conversation; There are things I hold extremely sensitive. That may or may not actually come up... but I trust this home thus far. Those who live here have treated me well for no reason beyond their own kindness." He paused as if to consider their options versus necessity. "Upstairs would suffice. I could find you something to drink... lady." He opted not to use the title Ser for the time being. The choice was made, however, and she nodded once more in agreement. "That sounds lovely. Shall we then?", she replied. The Knight had come bearing two items of interest as well. A wrapped bottle of something or other, and an opened letter as well. The man regarded her for a moment before motioning to the stairs first. He would not take it upon himself to take the stairs before her. She smiled at his gesture before walking to the stairs.

"I note you carry something that looks like a bottle. Should I only retrieve glasses then?" She shook her head as they continued onward. "Unfortunately, this is not for drinking tonight." "Fair enough...", he nodded before stepping off to the cabinet beside him at the top of the stairs. She continued to the next room and took her seat at the table, placing the bottle and letter in front of the chair beside her. "Red or white...?", came Iron's voice from around the corner. "Shall I be so daring in this dress?", she said with a hint of playfulness to lighten the mood. "Red it is." Iron Sea laughed lightly, glad he had such large hands now, as two glasses were more than easy to hold by the stems. The bottle he tucked under his other arm, before heading off to the next room to join her. Placing both glasses down, he removed the cork and carefully filled her glass first, then his own. The bottle he then placed between them, cork slipped back within, before taking a seat himself.

"Thank you.", she said as she took up her glass. She swirled it before taking a sip and placing it back down. "I had said that I had work you may wish consider.", she began once they were both settled. "Indeed you did, which I can only presume has something to do with this whole... mess?", he asked, taking up his own glass. Though he idly stared at his reflection in it for a moment before also drinking. "It is, yes. The letter before you is one of two remaining leads I have on the whereabouts of the Pirate Lazarov." The man inhaled deeply in thought. "Nero...", he said at length. "Roen's beloved..." Coatleque tilted her head with some measure of amusement at how fast news seemed to travel these days. "I was not aware this was common knowledge." "It's not.", he replied curtly. "When Nat went to Limsa, I was contracted to follow and seek our Roen. I stalked until I located her, and forced my way into her table at the Bismark. I had eyes on her ever since, but called it off. I was asked to keep her safe, despite whatever else was going on, but I let it go; Another lapse in my judgement..." His voice trailed off forlornly. "As far as I know she still is safe.", Coatleque interjected trying to keep his thoughts from bringing him down once more. "She did not believe Nero was capable of the claims brought against him, and sought to figure it out herself. As for that contract... I've dropped it. Her security is not my concern. " The man made no eye contact now. Iron had far too much information, and had acted on nothing all of this time. For his inaction he had lost someone dear. He lifted his glass, taking a long, slow drink of that wine.

Coatleque turned to him, trying to meet his gaze. "No, t'is not.", she replied in a firm voice. "I believe at this point it is mine, though. Which is why I need others for a more hands-on approach.", she continued. "I can see to Roen while others are seeing to things I cannot." He was hesitant to agree. "Following orders like that got Nat killed, did it not? Is this also part of what that man named Jameson is directing? The one who made her go about this all?", he asked. His voice took on a more sinister tone. "I'd sooner find my hands around his throat as I would some two-bit pirate and weapon smuggler..." She shook her head trying to reassure him. "Leave Taeros to me." This caught his interest once more. "Just what is it you are planning?"

Coatleque turned back to her wine and took a sip before continuing. "Right now, our chief concern is to be damned sure the pirate really is harmless. If he is not, I hope to also prove he is a threat to Limsa Lominsa. It would go a long way to smoothing over relations after the warehouse incident, as well as keeping my neck from the hangman's noose." He nearly recoiled at the thought. "Your neck will see no such fate." She knew he only spoke out of his reaction to her suggesting it. In all reality, the matter was not yet in his hands to decide her fate. "It may yet if the Admiral presses this issue.", she continued. "Which is why we must prove our actions... Natalie's actions, were justified." Again his words seemed to come before his thoughts. "If the Admiral presses the issue, I will draw so much blood through these streets that your name will be a distant memory.", he said frowning in anger.

She shook her head once more before turning her gaze back to him. "A foolish notion, even if your heart is in the right place." "I've had many a victory on a foolish notion.", Iron sighed softly as he tilted his head back to drain what was left in his glass. "I jest though. Surely during the course of this conversation it's clear I am far from a brute." She paused for a moment, recounting every meeting she had had with the man before. "Considering I have not seen you be anything but cordial, I would only have rumors to go on if you were otherwise." She gestured to the letter as she turned back to her glass, signalling for him to read it when ready. "Under my command I have a small force, all of different skills, all not part of any faction or public eye. They work for me, to do what I need. They are my eyes, my ears. A bow, a lance, poison; Whatever it is that a situation will require. If I am to be brought into this, I would cast a net wide enough for your pray to not realize he is even ensnared.", he remarked. His voice lowered to a mutter as he took the letter into his hands. Flipping it open he began to read. She paused for a few moments letting him finish and consider the short notice within, as well as its implications.

"Of course I would expect you to make use of them as needed.", she said as she sipped her wine again. "This letter was all of interest that Natalie recovered from the warehouse. That and the bottle. I do not know where she found them as I was outside at the time." He stared at the letter while considering her words. "Hmm... So the belief then is this letter will lead either to Nero, or to someone who was working with him? This is what she ran out... smiling holding as she died? The proof she gave her life for?" Coatleque sighed and turned to face him once more, her expression stern to draw his thoughts once again to the matter at hand. "Regardless of how it sounds, Master Sea, this is all we have. I wouldst prefer NOT to let her sacrifice to go waste."

"I do not hold back my words. That reality will sting. It will hurt... and it will be the drive to make us march forward in what must be done. I'll go, I'll follow the instructions... and take this bottle with me. I'll walk into what may or may not be a trap myself... but not for the sake of a dead woman Crofte. For your sake... and do not forget that." She nodded, admittedly touched at his determined words. "Thank you.", she replied softly. "For that, I require something..."

In the months since her promotion, Coatleque had grown used to the political posturing. The back-room deals and favors called in exchange for more favors. She had been forced to make enough of them herself, despite the sickening rock it always left in her stomach. Still, hearing this from Iron Sea was a surprise. She was in no position to argue the point, however, so she swallowed her pride once more. "And that is?" He began to plead his own case then. "One of the people I need at my side... What is the situation regarding Miss Leanne?" She leaned back in her chair with her arms folded as she recounted the official order once more. "She is wanted by the Brass Blades for assaulting an officer. Let me guess, you need her charges dropped?" "I need her.", Iron stated bluntly. There was no room for question about it in his tone of voice. This was not something to be debated. "I'll give the Blades bribery if need be.", he continued. The Sworn held up one hand as if to stop his thoughts in protest. "I have dinner plans, as it were, with Master Jameson Taeros. I will make mention of her plight. He has some pull with the Brass Blades via his employer. His cost may be steep in other ways than mere gil, however." Iron Sea shook his head in disgusted protest. "Many people are assaulted in the streets of Ul'dah. Many more can be too if need be. There are a lot of people who wear fancy hats." Coatleque shook her head as well, though slower and in more disgust at what he was implying. "T'is my job to avoid needless bloodshed. Do keep that in mind."

He sighed. "These political games sicken me. Jameson deserves a knife in his gut for playing this game. And yet we are to fool around and beg and plead? Leanne is a hero. Leanne fought at my side, helped me save the damned city from a cult that your walls were NEVER breached by, due to OUR sacrifice. We received no thanks, no reward... we did it because we cared." His voice was growing deeper, angrier as he continued. She stopped him once more trying to keep control of his emotions. "You need not plead her case to me, Sir. Please, simply allow me to do my part and be content." He grumbled under his breath, nodding on concession. "Second thing.", he continued. "Aye?"

"Lady Edda is to be taken care of in the event anything befalls me. This... all has taken a toll on her. I've not seen her, and the only time I did our words were pained and harsh... I worry for her sake. As I've made clear, she is my utmost priority." She had no reply to this request. After thinking for a moment she finally responded as best she could on the matter. "I believe that is more a matter to set to your will. I will do what I can, though." He continued, "The void is not so deep... should something befall her and I have to come back to this realm, I'd be worried for you all." He smirked and laughed lightly. "When should I go to this meet? I'll need a small amount of time to assemble what I need."

Demands and promises aside, Coatleque nodded to him. "Per the letter, you, or someone else, will need to pose as this Master Redgrave. I do not know who he was to meet.", she said with some frustration behind her voice. She was certainly not keen on having him walk into a complete unknown. "The bottle of wine was included with the letter, most likely to smooth things over from the start." "Would I not stand out?", he asked. "That would depend on how well known you are.", she replied. "T'is the same reason I cannot go myself. Other than the fact I am not male. My face is known in Ul'dah and would be recognized in the Goblet." "Hmm... I've never met Nero or his men. Only Roen, and I doubt she would have spoken of me... Even in a worst case scenario, I can forgo diplomacy and deception for the sake of getting what we need by force. I do hope it would not come to that though." Something she had already considered. The possibility of violence erupting. "If it does, you had best keep people close by to call upon. I can be stationed nearby at the time as well." "I always do.", he nodded, "I'll get back to you... I'll need to head out now and send some word out to my people."

"This mission is an infiltration, pure and simple. We must needs get in, find what information we can, and leave alive. The meeting is already nearly three weeks late, so pray do not take much more time to gather people.", she interjected once more. "While you do, I will check with my one other lead in the Maelstrom. Let me know when you are ready and I will return post haste." He turned back to her for a moment. "Sounsyy Mirke is part of the Malestrom. If you need information or help regarding working with them, then drop my name to her. I have faith she will do whatever she can for me."
"I shall keep her in mind then."
"I'm going to head off now lady. I've got much to do... much on my dance card beyond fighting for sport it seems."
"As you say, Sir. Thank you for meeting with me. I shall inform you as soon as my dinner with Master Taeros is complete, as to the state of the charges against Miss Delphium."
"I appreciate that. Without her, I am far less capable."
"Twelvespeed to you, Master Sea. Do keep well until then."
"Be well lady... this promise I will make sure to keep."

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#23
11-13-2014, 12:12 PM
Coatleque leaned against the railing of the landing outside the Quicksand. The sound of the fountain beside her seemed to drown out the random noise of the plaza below. She had come outside to clear her head and attempt to gain her bearings on recent happenings.

She did not notice when the man came up to stand next to her. He looked out to the view of the gate in front of them both. "Cooler day than usual, is it not?" She almost started at the sudden sound of his voice, standing upright and turning towards him. "Oh... Master Taeros... yes, it is.", she replied with the slightest of shivers. She hadn't noticed it at first, but now she wished she had worn something not so low cut. He glanced to her with his usual smile and bowed. She curtsied politely in response before her expression turned to one of annoyance at his presence. "I'd expected to see you sooner..."

Jameson's hazel eyes narrowed slightly, noting her tone. "Ah, my apologies, good Lady. Business has kept me away longer than I had anticipated. I pray you will forgive my lack of correspondence." She sighed to herself but seemed to relax at his sentiments. "Of course. We are both rather busy in our professions. Me even more so with that heretical woman spouting her drivel in the streets." He regarded her pensively for a moment. "I trust my man Mister North took care of your needs after I had left?"

Coatleque blinked slowly and looked away. Mister North was probably the only one among them all with any sense lately. At least he knew his place and did not stray from it. "He did. Mister North is a good man.", she replied. Jameson nodded to her, his smile lingering. At length he continued. "I know it was all about business. Favor for favor." "Yes... yes, of course.", she said while trying to mask any disappointment. "I do not expect ... more than cordiality. But..." His expression seemed to warm then. An unexpected change. "I daresay I may have come out on top that eve. The favor granted to me was splendid."

The chill of the evening seemed to fade away as the blood rushed to her face. While her mind raced with potential responses, she decided to play along and see how far she could push him. "... perhaps. Though I may have more favors to request soon." His brow raised with a slow grin. "Oh?" "Alas I've no more friends in need of gaming the system just yet. Perhaps I shall have to think of some of a more personal nature.", she said with a hint of playful sarcasm. His head tilted just slightly as the feather on his hat bobbed in the breeze. "Perhaps. More favors certainly are... welcome.", he said carefully though with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

She gave him a coy smile as her head turned away, her tone suddenly becoming a little more serious. "Another day though. I am sure you are here for business once more." He did not move though, merely regarded her. "I actually came to pay a visit, that is all, dear lady. I fear I have been terribly rude departing as I did. Even if it was a business transaction, I oft leave my associates in better form." She smirked and turned back to him. "I had no complaints of your form, I assure you."

Jameson inhaled slowly, his look was... odd as he regards her. "I dare not say what I think of your form, dear lady. It would not be polite.", he remarked with an ever widening grin. "Mmm, now that is a dangerous thought."

Just then the sound of familiar voices behind brought her back to attention. It was Otto Vann speaking to one of his many associates. She cleared her throat softly and looked back out towards the gate of the city. "I've learned nothing more of the name 'Redgrave' yet, though I have put out feelers with my contacts." Noticing her discomfort Jameson also turned to look over the plaza. He nodded, but his eyes remained forward. "I appreciate your diligence in the matter, Ser Crofte."

"I am now only waiting for your own agent to contact me when she is ready for us to investigate that address. But how has business been, Master Taeros?"
"Ah. Brynn. I will get her on that. She has been ... a wandering soul of late as well." He paused, his brows narrowing just slightly though it was not noticable from his profile. "Business can be trying at times. But that is the nature of things, is it not?"
"Aye, I've heard it can be rather stressful. Perhaps I have scared her away. Apologies."

Jameson exhaled at that. There was a hint of mirth in the tone of his voice. Something Coatleque had never heard before in her dealings with him. She continued to stand where she was though, admiring the view of the plaza. Her impatience at the group behind her was wearing thin though and she began to tap her foot lightly upon the stone floor. He continued, "I accept, nay, anticipate such challenges eagerly, Lady Crofte. Without risks, life would be dull. Without surprises, it would be unbearably predictable."

"Yes, I am discovering that myself recently.", she replied though not entirely sure of her own meaning. He shot her a sly grin. "I hope you are not disappointed."
"And why should I be? As you continue to remind me, t'was naught but business. A beneficial... transaction for the both of us."

He regarded her for a moment longer, there was an odd expression that flited across his face. "Indeed. I wonder." His eyes narrowed at her own profile before he looked back out towards the Gate of Nald. "Ah, of no import." She turned back towards him with half amusement and annoyance. "Come now, I am sure you've no need to be shy in front of me at this point." He turned to face her once more with an amused curl of his lips.

"Have we shed what apprehensions then? I would like to think that mysteries still remain."
"Mysteries? I would say there are still many of them, yes. Though you certainly had your fill of answers. Perhaps next time I shall be the one to ask the questions."
"I was wondering, aloud, lady Crofte, and pardon my curiosities... but oft my agreements and dealings do not leave me pondering on it days later. It is not something I allow. Hazards of the business I do."
"You are still pondering our transaction this long after the fact?"
"And what if I were, lady Crofte."

Again her mind began to race. This was not going entirely as she had planned. Either he was leading her on now, or she had genuinely left an impression on him that night. She tried to shake off her thoughts but just could not rebuke him. "Then I should openly deride you for letting yourself become so enamored with one pretty face, while also denying that I have also been thinking as well." His expression split once more into a wide grin. "But it is such a fair face."

To that she tisked and rolled her eyes. She had heard such things many times though usually called at her from across the bar in the Quicksand as she left the Hourglass at night. Jameson looked amused all the same. "Indulge a man his lovely views, Lady Crofte. And the fact that I hold you in much esteem. The exalted Sultansworn. Whlie I am never the one to boast, such a thing... would swell a man's pride. A bit."

She bit her lip and turned her head away once more, at a loss for words. His eyes narrowed but he continued to study her profile. "Ah, fear not, good lady. I would never speak of such things as if it is something to be shared. Our transaction, as are... all of my transactions, are considered utmost private. Need not worry yourself with sullying your honorable reputation."

That she did not expect. There was a pause before she managed to speak again, though in a much softer tone. "Thank you, Jameson..." His voice, however, remained light with amusement while he tipped his cap in her direction and nodded in welcome. "I have also afforded you the same privacy in your affairs, lest you suspect.", she continued. "I suspect you of many things, dear lady. But that does not stop me from seeking you out."

"Do you? And what do you suspect of me?", she asked with genuine interest. "I suspect that you do not see me in the most favorable light. I suspect, as many others do, that dear Natalie's passing and its blame is laid upon me. And you, may see some truth in it. I suspect others see you to uphold the law, and that may mean working against me. I suspect that you think I have an ulterior motive. And perhaps even work for someone that I should not be. And you seek a way to find them, through me."

"You presume almost as much as you suspect, Master Taeros." He continued to regard her carefully, his amused grin giving way to a more sober expression. His voice had quieted. "Do I? I find that if I suspect the worst case scenario, things do not surprise me." "Yes, as I have heard others say before.", she said flatly. "Although I confess, I have reserved in suspecting the -worst- things. At least where you are concerned." He exhaled after his confession with an amused grin.

Coatleque blinked, her expression turned sour. What should she have expected from a monetarist though? Especially one so shady. "Well... for one who says he holds me in such high regard, I am glad to also hear the worse is suspected of me." "It is because I hold you in high esteem that I suspect you of these things. Because you hold on to your honor." "Is that such a bad thing to do?" "And you serve the Sultana. And yet, here you are, speaking with me. A monetarist. Some may dare call you a traitor. They saw dear Natalie in the wrong for it."

"Natalie crossed a line in her dealings. One I have yet to do. That is why you suspect me? Because I follow my orders over your schemes?"
"She did what she believed was right.", he replied shaking his head. His eyes narrowing pensively at her. "Schemes. Plots. Devious plans. All are suspected me I am certain."

"That is where her and I differ. I do not follow what I believe. I follow what I know.", she said with a hint of pride. His expression slowly turned to a smile once more. "Perhaps you are the wiser woman then. You know this city-state for what it is. She believed me to serve Ul'dah's best interest. What do you know Ser Crofte?"

"What I know is that Jameson Taeros has not yet done anything which blatantly places the sovereignty of Thanalan at risk."
"And that day will never come, I assure you."
"I do believe you, for what that is worth."

His head tilted at that. He actually looked surprised. A new show of emotion she had never seen from him before. "Do you? Truly?" She only looked at him directly in the eyes with a stern expression at first. "Yes. I do." She relaxed after saying it though. "But that does not mean I answer to you. We shall never have the same understanding that you and Natalie did." He met her gaze steadily as she spoke and his light hazel eyes remained on her for some time, his expression softening just slightly. "I would not expect any less from you, Ser Crofte. You are... certainly not Natalie."

That almost hurt. "Are you sure that you do not wish I was?" He shook his head slowly, and there was another odd expression that flited over his eyes. It is only a moment's darkness before it is dismissed. "Nay. I do not ever think there will be another Natalie. She was ... one of a kind.", he said as his expression shifted once more into a warmer smile. "But I would say the same for you. In an entirely different manner."

At that her coy smile returned. "Perhaps another night you can tell me exactly what manner you would say it in then."
"Ah. Would there be more favors then?"
"That would depend on what, or whom, needs done."
He hummed, looking quite amused once more.
"Of course, we need not resort to only exchanging favors."
"No?"

She nodded in brief thought before continuing. "You are no different than any other busy man in this city. I am sure the stress of work can wear on you heavier than most." "And you are but another courage and steadfast Sultansworn. I am certain your duties can be a heavy burden to bare." She laughed at him. Not derisively but out of sheer amusement at the change of thought. "Should we find a small reprieve then, from our duties without exchanging favors?" "Hmm... that would depend on what reprieve you suggest, Master Taeros."

"Only the Spinner knows, mayhap. I dare not presume now, where you are concerned. I have been rightfully chided.", he replied, though he did not sound sorry or chagrined. His smile never left his face. She tisked at him. "Honestly, must I be the one to say it? Dinner, Master Taeros." He chuckled at her. "Dinner. I would be most honored." She sighed lightly. "You are not very practised in this are you?"

Jameson shook his head, and there was a hint of sheepishness about him as he adjusted his hat. "It has been... a long time since I've... well. I am far more at ease with business as it were." "Well, if it helps for this once, think of it as business again." He narrowed his eyes, that familiar twinkle coming back to them. "Mayhap."

She could not help but feel slightly amused at having gained the upper hand. "My, my, but where has the confident man gone, Master Taeros? Perhaps I have overdone it?", she said with a smile. "You are nothing like dear Natalie, good lady. Things were... easier where she and I were concerned. I fear I am treading more carefully this time around. Remember my suspicions. Or as you say ... presumptions. And yet here I am."

"Aye, here you are. I am merely trying to figure out your intentions.", she said blinking slowly. Her gaze not leaving his. "I hope you know, Lady Crofte. Despite my promise to keep our dealings as private as possible... I am fully aware of the various eyes that wander our way whenever I speak to you in public." He gestured between the two of them. "This. I wish no back alley talks, no secret schemes, no dishonesty or underhanded dealings between us. I do not want others to think of you as they did of dear Natalie. I would not want that stain upon your reputation."

That was completely unexpected. She stood there and blinked in a sort of stunned silence. She slowly turned away to look out over the plaza once more. "That is... kind of you. Moreso than I expected, I admit.", she said at length. He smirked though she could not see it where she was facing. "Mysteries remain, but I do believe we are getting to know each other. A little."

"I've felt only eyes upon me since I returned from Limsa Lominsa that last night. I think for the first time I feel somewhat lighter."
"Putting another burden upon your shoulders was never my intent."

She simply stared out at the Gate of Nald in thought. This was getting so much more complicated than she intended now. Did he really think that highly of her? If so, could she still have the stomach to do what she eventually intended to? "I must think on this more." He nodded and bowed. "As you wish, good lady."

"I am... I am still interested to know your intent though... when you decide on that... you know how to reach me." His amused look returned at her words. "I have many intentions. I would be willing to share [i]some[i] of them, but not all. Mayhap over dinner." She felt the blood returning to her cheeks as the chill of the now night air faded away once more. "Then be sure to remember them.", she replied. "I look forward to it, Lady Crofte."

She smiled and agreed. "I accept."
"Most, excellent."
"And perhaps after dinner you will share the rest."
"Only the Spinner knows.", he said with a bow. "Until then, my fair lady."
"Indeed she does. Nymeia guide your steps, Master Taeros. And a pleasant evening.", she said in parting with a low bow.
"You as well, pleasure as always."

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#24
12-03-2014, 01:03 PM
The Paladin stood in the back corner of her office, leaning against the wall. The events of the day were replaying through her mind as she scowled at the floor. A copy of the Lantern was sitting on her desk a few fulms away. She did not notice the woman standing at her door till she decided to call out. There was a quiet knock and a meek "H-hello?" as she straightened herself.

Coatleque looked up momentarily startled and cleared her throat. She scrambled to the desk as she had not been expecting anyone this evening. "Oh, yes? Apologies... one moment!" Quickly taking the paper from in front of her she crumbled it and dropped it into the waste basket to the side. She then sat down abruptly and scooted forward to address the newcomer.

"May I help you?"
"A-ah? Yes. Hello, um, Miss Crofte. My name is Anita. Anita Aezantia, and I'm a trainee under Captain Jenlyns...!", she began with a salute which Coatleque returned quickly.
"Oh, another new initiate? A pleasure to meet you Miss Aezantia."

With that she gestured to the chair before her small desk.
"Did you need something? Please come in."
"Y-yes, ma'am.", the woman nodded before proceeding to walk in. Her posture was straight, perfectly rigid as she had been taught. "I was here to... um, inquire about the Trials?"
"Ah, the initiate's Trials? Your sword training has been completed and you wish to move up to the Gallantry then?"

Anita squeezed herself into the small cubicle-like room, her heart slamming against her breastplate. She did not let her nervousness show through. She responded with a small nod before sitting.
"I've had both training from the Captain himself, and my own private tutoring."

Coatleque smiled.
"I should first congratulate you then, for coming so far! Have you already sworn your oath of fealty to her Grace?"
"I... yes, yes!", she replied enthusiastically.
"I do apologize for not being there. I know how important the ceremony is, however... the Captain typically has me attending other business so that he may be present himself. So... have you bee told anything about the Trials before?"
She leaned back in her chair in an attempt to relax the mood settling over the room. It snapped and creaked under the weight of her armor - a miracle it still has not broken yet.

"I understand the Sultansworn are quite bus-- um, no, I haven't... my wife is also something of a Sultansworn, but she's more of a, um... a diplomat..." She trailed off at this, realize she had not mentioned such before. "Anyway, she told me of the trials."
"I see."
Anita stood then, the metallic fingers of her gauntlets crossed together. She looked over the room quietly before settling her eyes on the veteran Sworn before her once more.

"Well, the first thing you should know is that the Trials in no way impact your current status as a Sultansworn. You have completed the training. You have sworn your Oath. You are a full-fledged member. We are all equals under one banner."

She nodded softly. "Yessir. Captain Jenlyns taught me as much. And I am glad for it."
"Aye, good. Good. Some have placed too much weight on them in the past, declaring themselves failures based on their own performance without me ever having cast such judgement. The Trials are not a test of usefulness to our cause. They are more a test of self worth. What you gain from them is different from what someone else may."

Anita closed her eyes for a minute, thinking back to her own performance.
"I've made my mistakes, but I won't let that stop me. I am prepared..."
Coatleque nodded once before continuing.
"While your training to date has been more martial than anything else, the Trials teach the finer points of morality. Service, brotherhood, loyalty, justice, courage, meekness, humility. In essence, what it means to be a Paladin. You may learn much of yourself in the process. Is that something you are prepared for?"

"Yes, sir. I'm confident that I've already found myself... and I believe the Trial a test to further my convictions."
"As you say, Ser Aezantia. Hold to those convictions, to that purpose, and I believe you shall do well."
Anita cracked a soft smile at that, her emerald eyes lidding. "Yes, sir."

At that, the Paladin opened the top drawer of her desk and reached in to retrieve something. She slid a linkpearl across the desk to Anita. It was white with a swirling blue pearlescent color.
"This is the Sultansworn's own pearl. It is held by those of us in the Order, as well as Free Paladins who have left to pursue their own goals. We use this to relay orders, news, in effect - any business that we Sworn should be privy to. It is often quiet, but rather useful when it needs to be."

The woman took it from the desk, metallic fingers dancing across its surface.
"I understand. Thank you for this.", she said with a nod before inserting it to her ear.

Coatleque leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk in front of her. "Congratulations once again, Ser Aezantia. Your Trial of Purpose is now complete. With this you now have a goal. I pray the Twelve give you the strength to see it through.

Her look of surprise was evident. "...ah! Sorry?"
There was a light chuckle from across the desk.
"Unexpected?"
"... honestly, yes. It is a good surprise though."
"Allow me to explain then, as I am wont to do at these times...
You sought me out, Ser Aezantia. Or your own initiative and desire. It was your own interest in the Trials that brought you here. You set yourself to a task, and saw it carried out, simple as it was. So should you approach everything you do as a Paladin. We perform our service with purpose behind each of our actions. And even now, I would imagine you begin to understand the Trials more than when you started."
"A bit, I suppose." She rubbed the back of her head, face flushing in embarrassment.

"Do not worry, they will not all be so easy. In fact..."
The Paladin held a hand to her ear for a moment before continuing.
"To all current initiates. I am preparing us for the Trial of Service and Brotherhood. This is a group Trial for all who are interested. Not tonight, mind you, but soon. It was a favorite of the late Ser Mcbeef. I aim to carry it on in her memory as well."
Her hand lowered with a smile to the woman across from her.

The pair conversed for a few more minutes before Coatleque stood to bow.
"Thank you, Miss Crofte. I have some business to attend to, but I hope to speak with you more in the future."
"Of course, I look forward to it. May Nymeia guide your path until then."
"You as well.", she replied with a final salute before turning to leave.

Coatleque sighed as she retook her seat. Once Anita was out of site she retrieved the crumpled paper from the waste bin and flattened it back out.

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#25
03-20-2015, 12:17 AM

The sun once again rose on the city of Ul'dah making its sandstone towers blaze bright white on the horizon of Thanalan. Such a clear morning it was that only thick drawn curtains would keep the sun's rays from creeping through the windows. Coatleque stirred as the warmth of the sunlight trailed slowly across her face. With a deep waking breath she rolled over in the bed to face the other side and found she was alone that morning. It was not unexpected, but she huffed all the same.

The curtains had been purposefully drawn open that morning, and the adjacent half of the blankets were replaced and laid flat as if nobody had been there. Jameson had left early on another business trip so it seemed she would have a few nights to herself. Rubbing her eyes, she rolled herself out of the bed and folded the covers up once more.

The temptation to make the bed herself passed more easily than it had before. She was becoming accustomed to the servants taking care of such things, and James always scowled at her when she tried to help or made any fuss. So she crossed the room immediately to the vanity and took up a brush to untangle her hair. Her nightgown was left draped over the corner of the bed as she finished preparing for the day.

Rounding the corner to the front of the office she stopped to adjust her beret. Her thoughts turned to Roen who was not so fortunate now to see the sun. Did she even know it was morning now? Coatleque was vaguely aware she was transferred from the Blade's gaol to a private cell. She should find out where and see that she was alright, even if they had nothing to say to one another.

Then she saw an elongated box sitting across the desk. Nearly five fulms in length, and one across, it was made of thin wood painted flat black with red stencilling tracing the edges. A note was left on the top.

~Be my Sword~

Curious now, she removed her gauntlets and set them aside in order to lift open the box. Folding back a cloth covering revealed a beautiful gilded sword with a blue anodized blade and ornate golden cross guard. Another note was laid on top to be clearly visible.

~Stop belittling yourself~

She smiled quietly and hesitantly lifted the gift from the box. It was surprisingly light for its size, clearly not iron nor steel. In the next moment she had replaced the winglet at her side with the larger blade. The former arm was left in the opened box and moved to the side for later.

Taking a deep breath she pushed all thoughts of pity from her mind for the day. Roen was, after all, guilty by obstructing justice now. Coatleque had a duty to the Sultanate to protect their shipping interests.

"Forgive me, Roen" she thought to herself as she made for the door. "But you will have to wait a few days longer."

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#26
05-15-2015, 05:06 PM
No more than three days after the final events of What You Are In The Dark

Silence.

If nothing else she could always count on her captain's office to be quiet. Long red curtains swayed in the breeze from the window behind his chair. The corners of a few stray papers curled upwards but refused to lift past the weight of a leather folio resting upon the pile. Coatleque's eyes slowly trailed to a few tendrils of down swaying at the base of a quill pen that had rolled to the side of the inkwell. Her attention was barely drawn by the clearing of his throat.

"I must say your reports are never bereft of detail, Ser Crofte."

The man's eyes could be seen over the final page by the woman sitting on the other side of the desk. Her hair was uncharacteristically pulled to one side of her head and held in place by a bandage which wrapped around to the other side. One arm rested in a sling upon her lap. Despite these injuries, which were rather minor compared to some others, she chose to appear in uniform sans one gauntlet. She managed to look him in the eyes for the barest of moments. A courtesy of habit if nothing more. "Thank you Sir." she replied dryly.

His brow quirked as the page lowered to meet its brethren. Whether the statement was intended as a compliment or not had seemingly gone over his subordinate's head. The slow sigh of resignation which followed had even less impact. "It is over then. The man has fled Eorzea and escaped justice."

She did not look back to him, merely swallowing.
"Ser Crofte?"

"I did what I was necessary to protect our people." Her voice did not change. There was no lift of defiance nor waver of emotion. Just a dry acknowledgement of her part played before the end of of a very long and wearying trial.

"I was not judging your decision." he replied while staring her down. Eventually the man reclined and looked away. Fingers gripping the arms of his chair. "Where is Deneith now?"

"Unknown, Sir."

He glanced back to her with a careful eye as if gauging the truth of her words before chewing the inside of his cheek. The man stood and turned his back to her to look down on the city from the window. "What happened to our eager, young squire Crofte? Usually you have so much more to say during our little chats."

"I do learn, Sir."

"Clearly so." He turned back to the desk and flipped the leather cover back over the pile of papers. "You cannot return to La Noscea." he stated with some authority. Now she looked at him through something of a daze. "That was the deal to keep the status quo. Your exile being a small price for peace, don't you think?"

Coatleque closed her eyes and nodded quietly.

"If the Maelstrom catches you there, they are authorized to shoot on sight. You do understand, yes?"

Another silent nod.

He retook his seat and leaned forward over the desk. Another awkward silence fell over the room as she awaited some form of judgement that neglected to arrive. Coatleque looked up to the man across the desk from her with a puzzled expression. Her mouth opened to speak but she hesitated, the request which came forth was not at all what she intended. "With your permission, Sir, I would like leave to visit the Black Shroud."

"Can you avoid causing another diplomatic incident?" he asked.
"Aye, Sir."

There was another sigh of consideration before a relenting nod. "After all this, I believe you could do with the time away. No more than a sevenday, understood? We need you here, Ser Crofte."

"Thank you, Sir." She found herself standing then, as if she had some pressing business which took priority. Her reflexes stopped her though. Turning back to the desk she saluted with her uninjured hand. "If there was nothing further, Sir..."

The captain returned her salute before taking up the mass of papers she had left for him once more. "If there is, you will be summoned. Dismissed." Turning slowly, she limped for the door.

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#27
07-13-2015, 04:49 PM
A small, dark mahogany chest sat opened upon the desk. Nestled upon the felt padding inside lay the stone. A rough square of aquamarine with the same white, etched shield symbol common to others of its ilk. Beside the small box lay a hand with upturned palm. A matching roughly cut precious stone held aloft as if for comparison. And in the dim-lighted silence of the room a decision had yet to be made.

Rules were made not to be broken, and among the brethren in the Order there was one common understanding impressed upon their earliest training. That nobody was to carry the soul of a companion, friend, or anyone else they had known in life. The stones they carried were but vessels. A spark of the essence of every man before would leave its mark, add to its experience, shape its oft times forgotten sentience. A sentience that still held memories, desires. Grievances.

The aetheric ties made between two souls in life could persist even through death. Such ties may become manifest as a feeling of being watched. Hearing whispers in emotionally significant locations to the living. Seeing dust caught in the moonlight taking shape momentarily only to be whisked away by the slightest breeze. To the more rational man such occurrences are simply waved away as the results of heavy meals at unusual hours. Or simply ignored if noticed at all.

What happens when such ties are more focused, however? When two souls with unreconciled pasts are allowed to influence one another beyond the physical veil of flesh and bone? While one remains limited by its yet unclaimed mortality the other is free of all material and moral constraints. It is then that the influence of one over the other may become a contest of wills. And when the vessel that yet remains in Eorzea proves the weaker due to emotions, regret, guilt?

The risk is too great. The soul stones are intended to help train and guide the bearer through their own path in life. When a soul returns to the aether its impact on the world is ended. The course of life is left to those who still draw breath and the departed are allowed to rest finally from their burdens. It is the natural order of things.

Varys Walker. Ser Walker - or rather "Lord Varys" as he preferred to be called - was the prior holder of the stone that rested within the palm. A self-centred and boorish man who did not earn his title but rather bought it. Remnants of an age where the Order was filled with more aristocrats than servants. The man had died alone in his bed surrounded by his wealth and left no mark on Thanalan's history worth mentioning. To the observant, however, it may be said that his pride had been passed on in some measure. A characteristic that might only be noticed by those who knew the stone's bearer in past times.

The hand lifted and drew near to the second stone. One might have expected some sort of acknowledgement or interaction between the two. There was nothing. Just two chiselled crystals of no discerning difference. The one was held aloft as the decision was weighed once more. To continue as one was, or to break the rule for the possibility of momentary gain? Out of the corner of the eye a gleam shone from the stone in the background as if it had sensed the question and gave its approving wink.

There was a slight incline of the palm and the stone slid off the side and landed on the felt below with barely a thud. In an instance the stones places were traded and then compared side to side again. Slender fingers closed over the soulstone followed by eyes as they began to re-attune to one another. Shared memories of the recent past came back into forethought before being consciously pushed aside while one will strove against the other.

Coatleque was aware of her decision to take the stone, the weight of her own grief over past events, a suddenly incredible thirst for ale (of all things), followed by darkness.

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#28
07-15-2015, 12:14 AM
Confusion...

There was smoke in the distance. The view was from the bow of a small ship as it sailed further from the coast. The plume was seen clearly from the edge of the rail before sinking slowly to the deck. A worm's eye view from the floor. Dark shapes gathered round from above as familiar voices called out their distress.

Anxiety...

A tall manor at night with windows aglow from candle light. Two figures block the light from the top floor and embrace before slinking below view. "A waste of time! Why delay your duties for personal trysts?!"

Consternation...

A windowless gaelor's cell where another familiar yet shadowed figure lay upon a stiff cot. "Stupid girl, what has she done now?"

Surprise...

Fighting below the streets against an unexpected foe in defense of an equally unexpected ally.

Contentment...

As the dust began to settle in the familiar back roads of the city, it was evident that there could have been no other way. The job was done, disaster averted yet again. She could not have done better herself.

***


Light. Blinding light. And tapping. Prodding. Coatleque awoke with a start and shielded her eyes from the morning sunlight that was now pouring over the goblet. A rather indignant Blade was pushing on her shoulder with the toe of his boot. "Oy! No vagrancy! Get cher arse up b'fore I toss ye in a cell!"

Her head pounding, she groaned and nodded in compliance before trying to right herself. She had no memory of the last night beyond when she exchanged the soul stones in her office. Momentary panic set in before her hand shot to her pockets to find the stone still on her person. There was a sigh of relief before she finally made to stand and address the Blade. A mistake. Her head spun and dinner decided it was time to leave in the most expedient way possible. Her eyes grew wide before turning abruptly around and leaning over the side of the walkway they were on.

Luckily for her it was still early in the day and nobody was below them. The Blade tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for her to compose herself. Not particularly caring of her physical well being, and content that she could walk her way out of here herself, he grunted and pointed in the direction of the gates. "Best be gone before I come round again. You 'ear me!?" She slumped back to the ground and winced in the sunlight before nodding. A few minutes later she could finally stand without wretching and began plodding back towards the city.

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#29
07-18-2015, 08:17 PM
It was not until Coatleque was back at the inn and soaking in a hot bath that she was finally able to breath a sigh of relief. Her body ached and she still could not recall the previous night. Perhaps it was better this way. Mistress Momodi greeted her as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, though perhaps it was her wisdom that had held her tongue. The head of the Adventurer's guild in Ul'dah had seen many strange things in her own time. A drunken paladin should seem like business as usual.

Leaning her head back against the edge of the tub her thoughts began to drift again. She had told no one of her decision to swap the soulstones. Probably the first impulsive thing she had done in years, and one that she still was not sure was right. All she knew is that she would never track down Banurein or even Jameson herself. She was the one who took her orders and carried them out like a good pawn should. Natalie, however...

The rest of the morning had been calm. Since the initial episode she had felt no different. Perhaps slightly ashamed at waking up in a gutter, but otherwise she was still herself. It was a wonder that anyone would make such a deal out of this at all. Unfounded rumors. Worrisome superstitions. That is all it was.

So her mind turned back to the immediate task at hand. Her trip to Gridania had yielded nothing. The locals proved tight lipped and wary of foreigners; Rather the opposite of the norm in Ul'dah. The few questions she did get out only had her reported to the Adders - reports that led to a rather lengthy interview by a mid-ranking officer.

***


She sat compliantly with this Lieutenant Dauremant as he grilled her on who she was, where she was from, why she was interrogating the locals with her disquieting demeanor and...

"Disquieting? Really, Leftennant, is that what they've told you? Or are you simply trying to provoke an outburst on my part?"

"What I am trying to do is to halt a potential spy from walking out of here with sensitive information. This is not Ul'dah, if that really is where you are from... highlander, and you are not entitled to any legal comforts the city affords you. Now, shall we dispense with these games?"

Her expression soured at that, reading the clear disdain in his voice. She crossed her arms and looked away from him. "Fine. I am Lady Crofte of her Resplendence's royal guard. I am here investigating a missing person, a noble from Thanalan. Now that I have dispensed of mine own act I sincerely hope you can afford me the same courtesy."

The Elezen showed no reaction to her admission. "A Sultansworn? Here? Forgive me if I call that 'Bo shite. Why would you not have checked in with the Adders immediately?"

"You will believe what you will, all I can do is speak the truth. I am not here on official capacity, Sir. My purpose is... personal. Call it 'paladin' business if you will. Unless Free Paladins are not welcome within the Shoud now either."

He shook his head. "Paladin or not, you are an outsider, and they are not welcome. I sympathize with your mission, but if your noble has fled here then he was meant to disappear."

Coatleque stood. "That is unacceptable!"
"That is not your place to decide what is or is not."
"You do not even know whom I am looking for! What if it was a child lost on her way? You would abandon her to the elemental's fate?"
"We would have found her ourselves long before your arrival in that case!"

There was a pause as the two wills battled for an upper hand from across the room. Coatleque took a deep breath before finally backing down. "It is no child I am looking for. I was searching for Rondelet and Clement."

The sound of the two names finally elicited a response from the Elezen. He turned sharply towards her.
"And where did you hear those names?"
"The man I am looking for may have known one or both."
"Hrmpf. For his sake, I certainly hope now."
"... And why is that?"
"Solelle Rondelet was naught but a scum sucking assassin for hire. Clement? He was one of ours, tracking her down."
"Was?"
"They are dead now."
"Of course they are."

There was another pause as the man reflected on his lost comrade. It seemed to Coatleque they may have been close. She was about to offer her condolences when he spoke up again. "A shame really. He joined us only about five cycles back, arrived from Ishgard. Such a promising career cut short. At least he did her in at the same time. Suppose she did not want to come quietly and resisted arrest." He sighed then looked back to her. "That is all we know of the matter. I am sorry your mission here was for naught, but I would suggest you leave now. Gridania is no place for your kind."

***


The scene replayed in her mind as the heat of the bath rose around her. While not particularly attracted to Elezen, she had to admit the Leftenant had a certain charm. There was a twinge as if she had missed an opportunity that night, a slight regret at the back of her mind which she shook off just as suddenly as it arrived to make way for another memory - Matron Anduron's words.

"Taeros? An upstart house that arrived around, oh five cycles ago?"

That was the connection which had eluded her. Taeros and Clement arrived at the same time. Coatleque pulled herself forward by the rim of the tub to stand and perpare for the afternoon. Everything was now pushing her northward. She had only the captain to deal with...

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply
Coatlequev
Coatleque
Find all posts by this user
Damaged Goods
*****

Offline
Posts:1,822
Joined:May 2014
Character:Florence Fishbane(Crofte)
Linkshell:N/A
Server:Balmung
Reputation: 504 Timezone:UTC-5
RE: Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open] |
#30
08-03-2015, 09:31 PM
It was towards the end of the day now, after most of the city's business had been concluded and the Bazaars had begun to close when Coatleque finally made her way to the Heart of the Sworn. She had requested a meeting with the Captain herself, stressing it was important but without saying why or for what. And while she had built her career around on punctuality, this being early evening now one might have considered her late. Stranger still is that this notion did not particularly bother her this eve.

Saluting the guards, she stepped up to the door of the Captain's office and wrapped the knuckles of her gauntlet off the wood. She waited for the familiar voice to respond from within. "Enter". The captain was out of his usual seat, standing and looking out of the window to the setting sun. His eyes squinted but his expression was absent the usual lines of worry and weight of his office. She closed the door behind her but did not stand to the side like usual. She saluted him as well before crossing the office straight for the first chair in front of his desk. He gave her a sidelong glance and a nod only. "Late. Unusual for you."

She stopped with one hand on the back of the chair mid-pull. "Aye, i was held up by a situation down at the palace gate. Just a drunk who wouldn't leave. He's sobering up in cell three for the time."

Jenlyns gave a small short, looking amused. "If that is the worst of our troubles as the day closes, let us consider our day a fortunate one, hm?" He turned from his view to face her then, an odd expression curling his lips as he regarded her. "You asked for this meeting. What can I do for you, Ser Crofte?"

She had meanwhile resumed her motion without waiting for the seat to be offered. Crossing her legs and brushing a string of hair from her eyes nonchalantly. "I did, didn't I? Ser, to be frank, I would like to request permission to take a detachment to Coerthas. A few squires at least, perhaps more. What with diplomacy opened again I think it prudent to have agents ready to secure trade for the Sultanate."

Both brows raised into a look of surprise. The man scratched his chin in consideration before answering her. "I am impressed, Crofte. Forward thinking. I was just pondering on what to do with our new allies since Her Grace herself had made the trip recently. I have always thought you were one of those who did not wish to leave the sands."

Coatleque's mouth twitched slightly. "I prefer stability." She replied calmly. "Recent events prove it may not be wise to remain so rooted though. The alliance is rather fragile right now, we may be more comfortable having agents close by to respond. And since I have been barred from La Noscea..."

The captain shifted positions at her words, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall with his back to the window. "The Noscean affair has cooled considerably. I suspect perhaps in a few moons even your exile may be reconsidered." His voice dipped. "A lot has happened."

She looked away. "Yes well, it is not as if I will be blowing up an Ishgardian cathedral. I'd be interested in seeing how these knights of theirs compare to us. I've also heard rumor of a wanted man in the area; I'd hate to think of him escaping justice still."

He smirked and nodded. "Very well. You make convincing arguments, Crofte. I cannot say I have any arguments with any part of your proposal. Besides, I think it would be good for you to get out of the Jewel for a bit."

It was Coatleque's turn to look surprised as her head turned back to face him. "O-of course, Ser. I do not think more than five squires will be needed. I'll continue their training myself while we are there of course. I'd like to take Ser Tarry as well. I think we will be spending most of our time in the outer settlements at first, just learning to integrate. I will be discrete."

The man regarded her for a moment longer, his thoughtful look passing. But he did nod again. "You and Ser Tarry worked well together in that Pearl Lane debacle. I think it prudent to have someone trustworthy and competent by your side. I do not see much getting done if you are busy with squires. Besides, Ser Tarry has already taken the initiative of seeing our new allies for herself, if reports are correct."

Coatleque chewed the inside of her cheek when she heard of such 'reports'. She knew Sharla had left Thanalan already but not on orders. If the Captains caught wind of her ture intentions it may be considered desertion. But not now. "Ah, yes... I will be sure to inform her of the assignment and new orders. Hopefully she has found some beds already. I will have the squires set about some low-risk tasks until we are established enough, then I will start looking for Anden Anduron. I believe he is somewhere in the outer reaches of Coerthas, and I would rather see him reeled in before he can tarnish Ul'dah's reputation further."

"Hmmm," a crease bent above the captain's brow. "Yes, the Brass Blade captain, still wanted for murder if I recall." He rubbed his forehead. "He had some affiliation with Taeros, aye?"

"Aye, murder, among some of his transgressions." She replied flatly. "I wouldn't know of his affiliations, though..." She did not look away, but her eyes refused to meet his any longer.

A long pause fell between the two. The sun at last dipped below the skyline bathing the room in shadow. When Jenlyns finally broke it, he was quiet. "I am not deaf nor blind, Ser Crofte. The rumors of you and Taeros were on the lips of many."

She fidgited uncomfortably in the chair. "It's not nearly what it may seem. Besides, I am sure you heard such things of Natalie before me anyway."

"Natalie was a wild cannon. You were held in a much different regard. And those rumors, I cannot say most of those who spoke of it did so favorably." There was no judgement in his tone. "But I knew the man myself. Not all Monetarists are against us. Some do support the good of the Sultanate. And I too have noticed his sudden and strange absence. Are you going to tell me that going after a Brass Blade captain that Jameson put into position himself has nothing to do with it?"

Coatleque raised her hand to her chin and contemplated something before taking a deep breath and moving the hand to the side of her face, then looking down to rub her forehead. Her motives may have been a tad more transparent than she thought. "Perhaps... I may have wont to... interrogate him before returning him to the city for another trial."

Jenlyns nodded. "As this is entirely your investigation, you are at liberty to conduct it as you see fit."

She looked up then as if having been struck by another idea. "I do not suppose you have any idea what happened to him?" Him being Jameson of course.

He shook his head. "Taeros? Nay. He has always been his own man. Charming when he wants to be, and extremely private in almost all things. I always attributed that to his employer."

"Yes, but which one?" Coatleque muttered to herself.

"But his line of work, the power within that circle... it was always a dangerous game he played, and I suspect he knew it." He paused. "Wherever he may be, I suspect he is no longer here because he cannot be. Whether he still draws breath or not... I have always thought the place in our lives to be fleeting. At the mercy of the tilt of the scale."

"I dare say he liked... likes the game more than he'd let on." She snorted and shook her head, refusing to speak of him as if he was gone in that way. "I will not let this distract me from what I have proposed, however. The Sultanate comes first."

Jenlyns let out a long sigh. "These past many moons, we have seen much change and turmoil. But I trust there are those of us who would stand steadfast against whatever rises to threaten what we hold dear." Coatleque closed her eyes and turned her head away again, crossing her arms as well. "You have grown and learned much since your first promotion, Ser Crofte." He continued, "Whether it was out of necessity or this is who you were meant to be... I believe you will stand strong for the Sultanate. Here or up north."

"Thank you, Ser." She stammered quietly before taking a deep breath and standing to face him once more. "I have taken too much of your time though. I have a team to assemble."

"I trust I will receive reports on your progress." he said before turning back towards the window to watch the last semblances of dusk settle over the city.

"And I shall be just as thorough as you are accustomed from me." She saluted him once more regardless of if he saw her. "For Coin and Country."

"For Coin and Country, Ser Crofte."

Wiki | Directory | Sketchbook
Quote this message in a reply

« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Pages (3): « Previous 1 2 3 Next »

  • View a Printable Version
  • Send this Thread to a Friend
  • Subscribe to this thread


Users browsing this thread: 2 Guest(s)
Index | Return to Top | Lite (Archive) Mode | RSS Syndication | Current time: 06-06-2025, 05:58 PM


Final Fantasy XIV images/content © Square-Enix, forum content © RPC.
The RPC is not affiliated with Square-Enix or any of its subsidiaries.
Powered By MyBB, © 2002-2025 MyBB Group.
Designed by Adrian/Reksio, modified by Kylin@RPC