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A Vision of Fog【Closed】

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Nero Nero Find all posts by this user Carbide Warrior Posts:910 Joined:Jul 2014 Server:Balmung Reputation: 286 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #61 08-13-2015, 08:25 AM He snapped his head towards her and gave a hard stare for several seconds. Torches were just now starting to be lit around the camp, but the oppressive winter gloom hung heavy in the air like a shroud, obscuring much. The contrast, however, simply made the clarity of the Xaela's gleaming emerald eyes that much more lucid. As soon as he registered the stern woman's query passed, the hesitation vanished: Kasrjin possessed a function and an objective. Everything else would fall into place later. He glanced at the group of aevis. The knights, having been apparently roused by their superiors, formed into an organized shield wall on both sides. As the Dravanians used the close quarters to their advantage, so too did the armoured soldiers. Even so, the force with which the aevis whipped their mace-like tails was more than enough to stagger the formation as even with their fellows behind them and their feet planted in the ground, the impact threatened to split the metal bulwarks apart, and within the tight confines of the battlement, the aevis managed to easily bat away the threat of most weapons. Spears were splintered and their swords lacked the range. "Break the encirclement," Kasrjin rumbled. He withdrew the massive greatsword over his shoulder, the loose harness flipping nearly parallel with his head to allow the weapon into his hands. "Only one opening is needed." Though, the Au Ra wasn't entirely sure of how to do that. The intimidating length of blued steel in his hands would, in theory, be relatively effective compared to the swords and spears of the knights, but another problem remained. With the sheltron formation on either side of the azure rock, it would be needlessly difficult for him to wade his way through in order to enter melee range with the aevis. He glanced at the stern woman again. "I require the warriors to disperse. This is a stalemate. A momentary diversion to distract the dragons is necessary."

Roen Roen Find all posts by this user Visit this user's website A Free Sworn Posts:1,230 Joined:Nov 2013 Character:Roen Deneith Server:Balmung Reputation: 306 Timezone:UTC-8 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #62 08-13-2015, 08:01 PM The paladin narrowed her eyes, scanning the battlement above. Ser Tournes was standing next to giant spear wielding dragonkillers on the eastern side of the aetheryte crystal, still shouting orders to the formation of knights surrounding the aevis. Her jaw set, she gave a quick nod to Khadai. “Follow me.” Roen ran up the ramp, breaths coming quick. Idristan scowled when he saw her approach, but she could see that he was looking not at her, but rather the massive Xaela behind her. “Captain,” she said breathlessly. “We need to break the aevis’ barricade. This is a standoff and as more time passes, the more damage they can do to the aetheryte, if that is their intent.” The Elezen’s sharp gaze returned back to her, his eyes narrowed. “They are using their size and the limited landing to their great advantage. What do you suggest, Deneith?” The paladin looked from the temple knight to the dragonkiller next to him. “We need a moment’s distraction. We only need one opening.” Ser Tournes arched a thin grey eyebrow. “We?” He glanced from her to the Au Ra once more, and this time she followed his gaze to the blue-steeled sword in the Xaela’s hands. “He is a warrior in his own right, and we need all help we can get.” Roen said before the temple knight could object about needing a foreigner’s aid. “His sword has greater reach, and if the aevis are as unfamiliar with his kind as most are, perhaps it would serve as an element of surprise. Even if it just buys us a fraction of an opportunity…” “Eugennoix!” Idristan drew the attention of the knight on the dragonkiller next to him. The knight answered with as stiff salute. “I trust your aim is one of the best.” “Aye, ser!” “Shoot one of the small spears down the rampart. Do not hit the aetheryte.” “But… captain..?!” “Can you do it, Eugennoix?” Ser Tournes held up a hand to cease all questions. “Aye or nay.” “Aye, ser!” came the nervous answer, and the knight shouted to those around him, who ran forth to begin turning the giant ballista about. Soon the metal gears were creaking and turning as the deadly points of the imposing spears were lowered to parallel the stony battlement. “All clear the way!” Idristan shouted into the biting wind. When the soldiers turned at his command, Roen could see their surprise in their sudden shift in stance. The phalanx quickly dispersed on the north side of the rampart to allow a path for the dragonkiller lance. The paladin could also see stirring within the encirclement of the aevis as they too spotted the massive weapon pointed their way. They shifted a little, as if they were anticipating a possible fire, although they were more daring than the soldiers--as if they doubted that such a thing would be fired upon so close to the aetheryte. They are frighteningly intelligent, Roen came to an alarming realization. They would recognize a ruse if this was one. But it was not. “Fire.” As the temple knight gave the command, the dragonkiller answered with a powerful blast, one that tossed Roen’s hair to the side even though she was standing a few fulms away from it. One of the smaller spears shot out from its barrel and flew like lightning through the air. But the trajectory was slightly slanted downward, and wisely so, sending the missile skittering across the ground halfway down its path. Its metallic edges sparked and screeched against the stones, sending a few aevis along that side lurching away on instinct. Soldiers too quickly leaped away on both sides of the aetheryte, even though they had already safely moved well out of its path. Eugennoix was true in his aim; the lance skidded along the narrow path between the edge of the parapet and the brass base of the aetheryte. This was the moment’s distraction that Khadai had asked for. Roen glanced to where the Xaela was, to already find him gone. Tumblr IC Journal and Inspirations Roen Deneith | Nabi Kharlu | Brynnalia Callae

Nero Nero Find all posts by this user Carbide Warrior Posts:910 Joined:Jul 2014 Server:Balmung Reputation: 286 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #63 08-13-2015, 08:34 PM It was momentary, but it was enough. With the stalemate dispersed, the tall Xaela practically tackled his way through the stumbling formation of knights, greatsword in hand. Once he'd broken through the foremost line of armoured warriors, the blued steel began to whistle in the frigid night air with its swinging. Oddly, Kasrjin did not swing his blade directly at the aevis; instead, he was swinging the blade diagonally. With his first swing, the Xaela leaned forward as the sword made a slash from near his right foot until it was level with his left shoulder. Using the momentum of the first swing, he would then twist the blade so that the next diagonal swing went upward from the left side of his waist up to his right shoulder. The force behind each whistling whirl carried into the next, and as he continued the motion, the speed of Kasrjin's sword increased in its alternating upward strikes. It was a tactic typical for fighting in narrow mountain corridors, and if his mind were not occupied with battle, he might have even found the relevance of his tactics amusing. Now faced with an intimidating whirlwind of steel, the aevis now found themselves backing away. One would attempt to beat its heavy wings to stagger him, but the Xaela's surefootedness and the heavy length of the weapon were little dissuaded. Strikes from their tails were narrowly manoeuvred around or batted away by the sword, though the sheer violence with which weapon met appendage sent near debilitating shocks through the Au Ra's arm and threatened to send the weapon, cumbersome as it was, spinning away from his hand. Even so, he continued his advance. One of the aevis impulsively made another spinning swing of its tail. An opening. Having finished one strike from left to right, Kasrjin very narrowly avoided the appendage--the hardened scales practically brushed against his nose--and, muscles burning from the sudden exertions, savagely swept the blade from right to left. The awkward angle with which the sword was swung didn't make it a clean sever, but nonetheless the momentum managed to smash through skin and scale and bit deep into the aevis' tail. The Dravanian roared, and its fellows were caught in a brief moment of rage. And that was what the knights needed. Unfazed by the dragonkiller and by the Au Ra suddenly wading into a line of aevis, the knights quickly reformed their formation and smashed into the dragons from the other side of the battlement. Now in range, the spears and swords made practised, hardened thrusts, aimed at weakened joints and gaps between adamantine. Though the soldiers held their formation, the fight quickly dissolved into a quick, frenzied brawl as they hacked down the last of the dragons. Dragon blood now splashed the azure rock and its brass housings, both of which drifted serenely in stark contrast to the bloodied skirmish that had just taken place beneath it. When the knights had jumped into the fray, Kasrjin ceased the swinging of his sword and practically leapt off of the battlement on the side, landing with a roll onto the snow below. He glanced at the dragonkiller that had provided the distraction, and though he could not see the stern woman, he nodded.

Roen Roen Find all posts by this user Visit this user's website A Free Sworn Posts:1,230 Joined:Nov 2013 Character:Roen Deneith Server:Balmung Reputation: 306 Timezone:UTC-8 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #64 08-14-2015, 01:47 PM (This post was last modified: 08-14-2015, 03:43 PM by Roen.) Roen let out a long sigh of relief. Blood of the dragonkin dripped from her sword as her chest rose and fell with the exertion of the battle. Ser Tournes had initially held her back from running after Khadai when he had made his move. The paladin could not help but pause and watch the Xaela warrior as he swung his sword with expert ease, and with a quickness that belied his size. He drove the aevis back, his blue-steeled sword crashing violently against the aevis’ strikes. Roen flinched once when she thought his head would be cracked open by a whip of the aevis’ tail, but it was narrowly dodged and batted away. Then the opening came and the rest of the knights rushed in. Idristan had released his hold on her shoulder as she too darted forward to help with the assault. From the corner of her eyes, the paladin could see the blue blur of the greatsword and its wielder as he leaped off the side of the rampart. Agile one, he. Roen made a silent note of the dexterity that was afforded to the tall warrior, likely the reason she found him in layers of leather armor rather than the thicker plate or chainmail that she preferred. “Good work, Deneith.” The temple knight approached her from behind, a smile creasing the Elezen’s usually sharp features. “Your diversion proved successful.” Roen glanced from the knight captain to the edge of the battlement where she had last saw the Xaela jump off. “It was Khadai’s idea, ser.” “Mm,” the Elezen pondered out loud, following her gaze into the night, although neither of them were close enough to to the edge to spot the Au Ra. “Impressive.” “Captain!” A familiar voice broke through their exchange as both of them turned to see Bellows running up from the other side. “Are you not suspicious that nearly a dozen aevis got within the walls without being detected?” A long stream of white breath was released through the Elezen knight’s nostrils. “What are you saying, Bellows?” “I’m just finding it mighty curious that all them dragonkin jus’ happened to sneak in on the same night that a certain foreigner was also ‘sleeping’ under the same roof.” Roen rolled her eyes. “Did you not just witness him charging in, nearly getting killed, while creating an opening for the rest of us?” The paladin was about to continue when Ser Tournes stepped in between them, the tall Elezen towering over the Midlander mercenary. “Enough.” It was his controlled tone that immediately quieted the Hyur. “This foreigner you have been accusing did take part in our offensive against the dragonkin, and as you and I plainly saw, risked his own life in doing so. I will not have you continue to accuse the man that I have already determined was free to go.” “But captain...!” Bellows began. “That will be all.” The paladin shook her head as she watched Bellows plod away; the Midlander was still clearly resentful. Only a few other soldiers paid him any mind, but most were busying themselves as they were beginning to clear the dead bodies away from the aetheryte. “You should get some rest, Deneith.” The Elezen knight gave her a scrutinizing look. “You look like you can use it.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “Your conjury is not needed this night. I believe most of the soldiers avoided grievous injuries. And yet even still, we have chirurgeons at hand. And you have another journey in the morn.” Roen nodded absently, for her aching limbs leaden with fatigue would not let her do anything else. As the adrenaline of the battle was wearing off, her lack of rest in the last two suns was becoming painfully obvious to her dulled senses. “Thank the Xaela on my behalf,” Ser Tournes said before turning away to organize the rest of the soldiers in their cleanup and repair. The paladin turned, wiping the blood off her sword and sheathing it. Her descent down the rampart was not as quickly paced as her climb. But even as her steps grew heavy, there was a certain sense of gratification that filled her lungs. Despite all the suspicions cast his way, Khadai had set his apprehensions aside and aided those who feared his foreign nature. Roen was surprised to find herself as relieved as she was at the thought. Perhaps she could not fault Edda for protecting the Au Ra so. Was he simply just someone who was lost, who needed a little bit of guidance to find his way? Roen spotted him standing in the middle of the courtyard, his massive sword still in hand. He seemed to be watching those that passed by him, his emerald eyes darting to and fro as if to take in the whole scene. Most were giving him a wide berth, especially with the dragon attack that had just ended, but a few wary glances were thrown in the Au Ra’s direction. “Well done,” the paladin said as she walked up to him. While she did not smile, there was a hint of appreciation in her voice. “You are quite effective with that sword.” Roen studied the odd blue-steel of the weapon in his hand briefly before she continued. “The knight captain extends his gratitude. I suspect that more suspicion would have been cast your way otherwise with this aevis attack. I am not certain how they even got in undetected.” She glanced over her shoulder towards the aetheryte and the milling of soldiers there. She frowned as she found herself scanning the crowd for Bellows. Should she tell Khadai that some were still holding onto their suspicions even after that display? Perhaps not here, and not now. Drawing a breath, she turned back to the Au Ra with a tired expression. “But that is neither here nor there. You should get inside, you are not dressed for the night’s chill. We can talk about… reconciliation in the morn.” Tumblr IC Journal and Inspirations Roen Deneith | Nabi Kharlu | Brynnalia Callae

Banquo Viaquo Banquo Viaquo Find all posts by this user Grouch Posts:68 Joined:Aug 2014 Character:Banquo Linkshell:N/A Server:Balmung/Gilgamesh Reputation: 31 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #65 08-16-2015, 09:58 PM (This post was last modified: 08-16-2015, 10:03 PM by Banquo Viaquo.) “Kweh.” “I would have imagined, sir, that you would be quite pleased to be home.” “Kweeeeeh!” “Home in a figurative sense, then. The land of your origin, assuming the reports of your pedigree are true. Towering rock formations, sweeping vistas of pristine white. Surely it must inspire some manner of awe, or at least respect. Subdued, muted respect.” “Fweeeeeew.” “Oh, now! There’s really no call to be carrying on like that, Chesterfield. We have a duty to perform, and for once, one specially requested of us. We mustn’t fuss so.” North sighed, patting the talkative chocobo’s neck with equal parts admonishment and reassurance. The old boy didn’t seem terribly bothered by the cold, but the snow itself seemed to baffle the bird, piling up on his beak until it was shaken off by twists and sneezes. Still, chatting with the chocobo seemed to improve its disposition, if only slightly. He had read somewhere, years ago, that you could say whatever you pleased to animals, so long as you kept your tone soothing and consistent. He had found the principle also largely applicable to certain members of the upper class. As a fellow beast of burden, however, Chesterfield made a fine traveling companion, and North accorded him the respect he was due. Despite his apparent misgivings, the stocky bird plodded northwards. Sitting astride him, North looked startlingly underdressed compared to the locals, still in his Ul’dahn formalwear--if anything, Chesterfield was more equipped for the climate than he, draped in both bundled packages of clothing and insulated “barding” that looked suspiciously custom-tailored. Fallgourd, thankfully, was well-equipped to serve as the border settlement it was--some last-minute purchases swayed lazily under the bird’s saddle, the hempen bags flecked with snow. However, the Shroud was long behind them, and the Observatorium loomed in the white sky ahead. He had not been this way in quite some time. Absently patting the chocobo’s neck, his eyes lingered on the tower--imagining the excitable Roegadyn, Five Reflections, ready to come bursting out of it, eyes aflame and spirit burning with academic furor as he’d triumphantly proclaim… that a voidsent finger bone had proved instead to be a toe, or perhaps that he’d finally uncovered the etymological origin of “malboro”, or a new theory that all sheep did not truly exist and were instead aetheric illusions. Five was an especially productive scholar in that he consistently, valiantly, and tirelessly sought answers to questions that nobody was particularly interested in in the first place. However, he had long since vanished from Coerthas--evaporated into the snow with his notes and his effects following the matter of Jameson Taeros. North could hardly blame him for fleeing at the signs of trouble on the horizon--had the Roegadyn still been in contact with him then, the valet would have severed all contact for the man’s own good, as he attempted to do with Roen Deneith and Mistress Callae. Still, he could not help but wonder at the scholar’s well-being. Five was eccentric, but had been a friend nonetheless, and one even willing to help North research the possibility of violating the natural laws of aether, as had Roen--however cautiously and reluctantly… A whistle from Chesterfield snapped him from his reverie, and he hastily gave his companion a scratch behind the crest as they trudged onward. The gate to the Observatorium was just ahead. It would not do to keep the lady waiting any longer than she already had… but it would be quite a shame if he were to come all this way, and neglect to tie up the loose ends that still remained. The stones of Camp Dragonhead were just visible on the snowy boundary, but his mistress would doubtless be asleep at the moment. His eyes lingered on the tower. There were preparations that needed to be made first… ...that would, it seemed, have to wait. Chesterfield stopped, tweeting cautiously and shuffling in place, as a loud crack echoed through the mountains. “Easy, sir.” A white pup loped swiftly through the snow nearby, spooked by the sudden split in the wintry silence. He raised his eyes to Camp Dragonhead, squinting through the snow and darkness. Too loud for a simple accident, and too clear above the roar of wind… He learned forward, murmuring. “Haste, Chesterfield, if you please.” He had heard that, by means of ancient magic or tricks of Garlean technology, the word itself might under other circumstances invoke a sudden surge of actual, raw, physical speed. He had no such resources at his disposal, but Chesterfield raced forward all the same, snow crackling under the bird’s talons on the road to Camp Dragonhead. By the time he reached the grand archway, it was clear that the majority of the chaos was over, but the sight that greeted him provided more questions than it did answers. He tightened his grip on the reins, slowing Chesterfield as he surveyed the camp with eyebrow raised. Weary soldiers, dragging aevis corpses by the tails down from the battlements--Gideon hid the briefest of winces as one was tugged down the stairs, its battered chin thudding on step after step. An ambush, perhaps, or a guardsman’s patrol gone awry; either way, despite the number of carcasses being toted down from the heights, he spied no civilized casualties. Whatever measures they had taken had been ruthlessly effective, though he had to wonder at the sight of the dragonkiller being carefully calibrated, turned inward to face the bare ramparts. What circumstances could demand firing such an instrument on the camp itself? The camp was still fairly quiet. With no medics on the scene, and no sign of concern or panic from the triumphant sentries, it had likely been quite a contained incident. The mistress either had stayed removed from the fray, or missed the event entirely--which, the valet concluded, meant that this whole affair was not his business unless otherwise specified. He took one last glance out of the southern archway, the tower of academics barely visible through the sloping fog and the darkness. Personal affairs, as always, would and must come second to duties. He quietly showed Chesterfield to the camp’s chocobokeep, and made his way inside--with neither intent nor need to sleep, he set to work. -- As light filtered down through the windows of Edda's room, the sounds of clinking silver and the gentle bubbling of poured tea made for a strange departure from the usual morning sounds. It seemed someone was in the room with her as she awakened--making his way quietly to her bedside table, and setting a tray of warm pastry and hot tea down alongside her; trying to work as quietly as possible. Edda stirred awake out of her potion-induced sleep, buried under the thick blankets of the bed, the top of her head barely visible. She poked her head out of the top of her blanket to look at the sound of motion with groggy eyes. For some reason, the prospect of someone being in her room in an unfamiliar place did not startle her as much as it should. She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to focus them. "M'jh-" She blinked. This was Dragonhead. "Gideon...?" "Good morning, Miss." He spoke in low tones, as if trying not to wake her still. "You will be pleased to know that I arrived in quite short order, and with several days' worth of extra insulation. I could not imagine what led to a deficit in clothing in such wintry regions, but you may rest assured that I have come prepared to resolve the matter." He straightened. "Your breakfast is on the nightstand. I shall immediately begin laundering the items worn thus far in your journey." Edda did not move, perfectly content to stay under the safe, warm blankets for just a while longer. Her eyes stayed trained on Gideon, becoming more adjusted to the cold air of the room, and the pull of consciousness. "That is alright," she said as he moved for her clothes. "I cleaned them last night. Spare yourself the trouble." "It is no trouble, Miss..." Despite his words, he sighed, stopping--surveying her bedroom with a critical eye, as if looking for some way to make himself useful. "Is there anything in the merchant's stalls that Miss requires, perhaps? How may I best assist Miss?" Edda sat up in bed and leaned forward, resting her hands on her lap. She had worn a pair of long, black gloves to bed, ones that came up to her forearms. She yawned lazily, before eyeing the breakfast. "I cannot think of anything." She frowned, and shivered. Her sleeping potion supply was now down to one, though it was not something that could be simply bought. "More wood for the fire, I suppose. It is dreadfully cold in the morning..." "Perhaps Miss would be inclined to wear more comfortable sleeping attire?" He examined her thoughtfully for a moment. "I am told that native Coerthans have been known to craft what are essentially cocoons of blanket, that they might sleep more comfortably." Still, he bowed. "I shall see to the fireplace with all due haste, Miss. I will be happy to assist you with any matters of concern or luxury during your stay." Edda frowned. "You need not push yourself so early on, and in this... cold." She shivered again, and swung her legs out of bed. Her sleeping clothes were more suited to the short chill of the Shroud than anything, and so she gladly reached for the hot tea, not bothering to cool it before taking a sip. "No pushing is involved, Miss. Surely I have described my function before?" He set a folded cloth down  on the silver platter; for no obvious purpose other than presentation. "Is there truly no facility in which I may advise?" Edda took a bite of the pastry, and chewed in a contemplative silence. "Roen is here," she said in a neutral tone, and looked up at Gideon, gauging his reaction. He paused, for a fraction of a moment, then moved to the window--withdrawing the handkerchief from his own pocket and patiently rubbing at the frosty remnants on the glass. "Indeed, Miss? Are there any duties you would have me carry out on her behalf, then?" "Not in particular." She paused and looked down at her breakfast. "I am not here for leisure. I imagine I will have great need of you in the next several suns. And yet, I would be happy if you took care of your own needs before my own. Do you understand?" He sighed, with as much patience as he could display without it seeming facetious. "I will endeavor to toe said line, Miss, although my needs as ever remain quite negligible." Edda looked at the man with a wondering expression. "Do you not wish to speak with her?" "I have no particular feeling one way or the other, Miss." He continued to clean the window. The frost was not cooperating. "I presume if she had any desire to speak to me, she would have done so." Edda looked down at her lap, as if scolded. "I see," she said quietly. "I take it you did not encounter the Au Ra upon your arrival?" "Not any immediately remarkable, Miss." He sounded politely bemused, turning his head to look at her directly. "Somewhat more pressing was the commotion that drew me to the Camp with such haste in the first place. It seems there was some manner of incursion in the dark hours of the morning; a small band of draconic assailants, from what I could gather. I hastened to join the fray at the sound of cannonfire, but it seems the matter was already resolved by the time I reached the grounds. I did not pause to scrutinize each guardsman attending to the mess. I merely inquired as to your lodgings, settled in, and began preparing for your morning.” He scrutinized her for a moment, and then spoke, with as little guile as possible. “Has Miss a newfound acquaintance?" "I am not sure I would categorize him as such," she said glumly. She finished off her pastry and began to make short work of her tea. "I have agreed to guide him to Ishgard. He has a tendency of poor behavior - though that is not quite his fault - and can be infuriatingly taciturn. I would appreciate whatever insight you may have to offer, when you meet him." He smiled thinly. "I am not unfamiliar with such remarks, Miss. Perhaps the gentleman will be more forthcoming to a servant rather than a woman of Miss's distinction." "On the contrary, I do not think he would be able to differentiate between us at all." A small smile tugged at her lips, but it was not one of happiness. "He is mostly ignorant when it comes to Eorzean procedures and culture. I do think it would be futile to educate him beyond the basics, but... I would know what his intentions are." "Then I shall do what I may to attend to his customs, Miss, and thereby gain his favor in your stead." He pocketed the kerchief again, nodding to Edda. "If that is all, I will leave you to your morning preparations, Miss." Edda nodded once, before flopping on her back and looking up at the ceiling. "Thank you," she said, and closed her eyes. She would not be able to sleep, but the fatigue of the past two days had begun to take its toll, and not even the rest from that night had fully assuaged the dull ache in her arms. "That... that should be all, yes," she murmured. He watched her for another quiet moment, thoughtfully, then let himself out with a delicate smoothness. "I will be here if needed." The door clicked behind him. -- “Miss Medguistl, I believe? I do beg your pardon.” The chef looked sidelong at him--the dapper Hyur, with an apron over a Sunsilk tuxedo and curious bundles in his arms, made for an odd visitor. “If I might make use of miss’s unneeded culinary tools, for the moment? You will hardly notice my presence, I assure you.” “Do you waltz in and commandeer the stoves of an entire frontline camp so easily?” She frowned, watching him begin to set up at the spare boilers to her left, unwrapping produce and meat from the thin papers. “I am disinclined to allow amateurs free reign in my kitchen.” “There I must take issue with miss.” As the soldiers outside began to stir in the morning sunlight, North began slicing the chanterelle mushrooms, focused and deft. “I think you will find I am no amateur.” [sub]Banquo Winterhaven - Banquo (Balmung) - Gideon North - Five Reflections [/sub] [sub] Skype: wordsmithrefl[/sub]

Roen Roen Find all posts by this user Visit this user's website A Free Sworn Posts:1,230 Joined:Nov 2013 Character:Roen Deneith Server:Balmung Reputation: 306 Timezone:UTC-8 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #66 08-24-2015, 11:24 AM Things never bode well when the day sneaks up on me. I never oversleep. Roen took the stairs two at a time, annoyance lengthening her stride. She fastened the buckles on her gauntlet as she tried to dismiss the haze that lingered over her thoughts. She'd awakened from her bed to realize that bells had already passed since the sunrise; she had never been a late riser for as long as she could remember, but recently, she had been waking feeling more exhausted every sun. Crossing the courtyard, she saw that Goldwind already being saddled up. Roen paused as she spotted Bellows near the stables, overlooking the preparations for her journey. It was strange to see him aid in such things, but when he gave her a mock salute with an unpleasant smirk, she could see that he was eager to see her go. The paladin did not give the sellsword another moment of thought. Her focus needed to be on the journey to Ishgard that awaited. Before that, she needed to speak to Edda. She felt a slight pinch of dread as she approached the noblewoman’s quarters, recalling the conversation with Khadai the night before. Even if she was looking out for her friend’s best interest, it still did not sit well with her that she was trying to decide for other people. But surely, Edda could not actually want to continue on in this journey... “Come in,” came the soft response after Roen knocked on the door. The paladin entered to find Edda sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair still loose and uncombed since her slumber. She was buttoning up her gown, a grey toned coat with tailored sleeves. Completed with black gloves and black leggings, the woman looked every bit the aristocrat Roen knew her to be despite her disheveled hair. “Did you sleep well?” Roen inquired quietly. "I always sleep well," Edda said softly as she clasped the last button into place and straightened. She swept her hair neatly over her shoulder. "What can I do for you?" "I thought we could speak alone for a bit," Roen said in a neutral tone. "I am not certain how much opportunity we will have on the road for some privacy." "That is fine. Of course. What is on your mind?" Roen pursed her lips in hesitation at first, not knowing what subject to breach first. She took a few more steps to stand in front of the woman. "First, you are free to go. The knight captain deemed yesterday's affair resolved. He sees no reason to suspect either of you. And he has allowed me to accompany you both to Ishgard." She glanced over her shoulder toward the door. "I... returned last night with the sword. My apologies that I tried to wake you. I am glad for your rest. I did return the sword to your companion." "I see. That is fortunate to hear." Edda rested her hands on her lap, her thumbs tracing over her fingers, shifting between each one in a seeming rhythm. "That your Captain was able to see reason speaks well for Dragonhead." She looked up from her hands at Roen, a slight tug at the corners of her lips. "Are you displeased with his decision?" The paladin blinked, clearly not expecting that. "Displeased? Why would you ask that?" "Do you wish to go to Ishgard?" Roen shifted her gaze, looking to an absent point on the wall behind Edda. Her answer to that had vacillated ever since the idea was proposed. "I have no opinion about it either way." That was not quite the truth. "I have been to Ishgard multiple times now... so I am familiar with the route. Both of you could use a guide." Edda exhaled slowly, humming through it in a deep tone. "That is true. I for one am most pleased by the news - I am sure Khadai will be as well." She lifted her left hand and held it up against the dim morning light now streaming through the window. Fingers spread, the woman glared at the back of her hand for a moment, as if willing herself to look through it. Her eyes returned back to Roen, her arm still outstretched. "You, however, seem rather listless. Did something happen?" The paladin shifted in her stance, fighting the reluctance that held her thoughts hostage. Was this not the reason she came to speak to Edda after all? "I asked you last eve, how long you planned on traveling with Khadai." Roen exhaled, raising her eyes steadily to the noblewoman. "I asked him to find another guide in your stead." Edda lowered her outstretched arm slowly, back to rest the hand in her lap. She bowed her head, her expression sobering slightly. "Ah. I thought you might. If not you, then him. One of you, either way. And now it is both, yes?" Roen knitted her brow in thought. "I am no longer of the mind that he is dangerous or... suspect in his motives.” She canted her head, as if to try and glean Edda’s mood. The woman’s enigma was something that Roen had come to accept long ago, the noblewoman always having her mask of polite decorum in place. And yet they had always spoken with honesty in the past. “Serving as a guide through a land beleaguered by war… it is not something I thought would appeal to you." "Hmph.” Edda scoffed, and looked to her left to glare at the wall. "It does not appeal to me, no. A great many things do not appeal to me - but I do what I must. I know the limits of my own abilities far better than anyone else. This was something I chose to do." She looked back up at Roen with a stony expression, eyes searching. "Yet I am not so brazen as to intrude where I am not wanted. Why even see me as far as Ishgard? I am perfectly capable of returning to Gridania now, on my own." That made the paladin pause, staring back at the woman. It took her a moment before she could respond, and it was with a rueful twinge to her lips. "Ah. Then you have my apologies, Edda. It is not your intent that I doubted, nor do I seek to deprive you of what you want to do. But..." She sighed, her shoulders dipping slightly. "I did not want to see you come to harm because of your good intentions." Roen paused, recalling the conversation from the night before. "Khadai seems to be on an exploratory journey of his own. He honestly does not know where he is to head next. How long did you intend to stay with him?" "As long as it took to discern what his intentions were," Edda said evenly. "Whether they be for good, or not." "I asked him the same. His purpose for being here. He does not know." The paladin exhaled, her expression softening. "But last night he did join in the offensive against an aevis attack. After watching him rush into battle to help those who were threatening to arrest him, I no longer think him to hold ill will against those here. Despite his bloody history." "You seem to trust him a great deal now." The noblewoman observed simply. Though her words seemed unfazed, a shadow was cast over her expression, her face darkening. "Nay, I still know him not. But he seems to be willing to answer questions with candor even if it may implicate him." Roen looked back at Edda, her eyes slightly narrowing. "He even told me that he killed three masked assailants in the Shroud. Something that he suspected, you came across." "Yes, I did," Edda responded in an even yet guarded tone. "You hid that fact... for his sake?" "Mostly my own." "Your sake?" Roen canted her head. "You had come across them after the fact." "And?" The paladin’s expression hardened. The shift in Edda's mood with her short taciturn answers were obvious. Roen could not help but mirror it. "And nothing. It is done." Her own words were clipped. "I have not spoken to my knight captain on the matter, nor will I. You witnessed the aftermath, if you feel that what you found warrants further investigation, then I will leave that in your hands." "It will be handled, of that you have my assurance." Edda paused, and studied her expression. "Would you have preferred me to put him to the sword?" "Nay. Not after..." Roen shook her head. "I do not doubt your intentions, Edda. I just wished that you would have at least been honest with me." The paladin did not want to give voice to her doubts about the woman, nor the sting she felt when she had suspected more duplicity. "Never mind. Perhaps I presumed too much." "It would have served little purpose at that point in time, other than to further your own doubts of him. Had that occurred, the series of events that followed may not have gone as smoothly as they did. There is little cause in withholding the truth - but there is a time and place for it." Roen’s frown only deepened at Edda’s response. A part of her knew it was a reasonable course of action and yet… Two knocks sounded from the door. Roen ignored it. "Very well,” the paladin turned back to Edda with her stony mask back in place. “You can discuss with Khadai whether you intend to continue on with him. That is up to you. I will not presume more than I already have." "The decision has already been made, Roen. Surely you realize that." Edda spoke softly, then turned to the door. "Come in." The door opened to admit a familiar figure of a man, a well dressed valet by his uniform with dark well trimmed hair framing his face. He entered with a small tray--it contains two metal mugs, snow-stained, but with steam rising from them. He strode past the two women to set the tray down on the table first before inclining his head politely to the both of them. "Mistress and Miss," Gideon said evenly. Roen stared, eyes wide at the man. "I have prepared a bracing drink using the kitchens downstairs; a heated brew infused with chocolate. The original recipe called for a dusting of kukuru powder, which the serving staff are sadly lacking. I have improvised as necessary." Gideon gave another bow toward Edda. "I was informed Mistress was entertaining company; the second mug is yours, Miss, should you wish to take it." The paladin was frozen still as the valet bowed to her. No words came. "Thank you, Gideon," Edda said softly. "Dishes have been prepared for yourself and the assorted occupants and guardsmen of the camp. Is there anything further you require?" Edda only shook her head at Gideon, before rising and taking her mug of hot chocolate. She sipped it twice before leaving the room without a word, and shut the door quietly behind her. Roen stared at the door in silence. . "Very good, Mistress." Gideon said to Edda's closed door, apparently accustomed to doing so. He glanced to the paladin for a moment, inclined his head politely then also turned for the door. "When did you get here, Mister North?" the paladin finally blurted, her voice hoarse. Gideon turned back around with a nod, his movements smooth and practiced. "I arrived in the early hours of the morning, Miss, shortly in the aftermath of whatever incident concerned the aevis horde. As matters seemed to be under control, I inquired as to the particulars of Miss' lodgings, and made myself appropriately useful." Roen swallowed. She found herself staring at the distant wall, not looking towards the valet. Seeing him here, it had unnerved her. "I see. Are you going to accompany Miss Edda to Ishgard then..?" They were just words to fill the silence. "I am duty-bound to accompany my mistress wherever she may require my services, Miss." The man’s response was placid and unaffected as ever. "Then… you are satisfied in her occupation?" These were questions she had wanted to ask Edda. One of many things the paladin had wanted to broach the woman about before it was curtailed. Roen had entrusted Gideon’s employment and safety to the noblewoman before she disappeared. Before she had sought out Nero at Aleport. Before so many things happened. But now as she found herself standing here before the man who had been her confidant and source of comfort through most of all that happened, Roen could not bare to meet him in the eyes. Nor exchange any other words than pleasantries. Was it because aside from Kiht, Gideon was the only other person that Roen had shared the news of Nero’s death? Not the manners in which he died, but with Nero’s involvement in the death of Gideon’s former masters, it was something that Roen felt at least the valet deserved to know. "Miss is occasionally reluctant to assign me any actual duties, insisting that I put my own needs first. Aside from this eccentricity, I am managing." Roen barely heard the words. Gideon's expression could only be described as politely blank. "...Did... Did you get my letter..?" "The one heralding your disappearance? Indeed so, Miss." "You need not worry about... avenging your former masters." She set her jaw, and despite her attempts to stay neutral on the matter, her fingers were curled into tight fists by her side. "At least... on one account." "I am sorry to hear, Miss." Gideon bowed, but this time, he remained bent for a couple of seconds longer - not an expression of servitude but apparent solemnity. It comforted her not. "...are you?" She shot him a look, not liking the stirring of emotions within. "Is this not what you wanted?" "Wanted, Miss?" Her throat felt constricted, and she felt anger rising from within. She was not sure who it was directed at. "There was a time you wanted death brought to those who were responsible for what befell your masters. This... is a good thing... aye?" Her words were turning sharper as she continued. “The end to a murderer. A violent extremist." "It is true, Miss, that I sought revenge for those who had destroyed what is close to me. If you recall, Miss, I learned of Lazarov's culpability after having already known that he was a significant person to you. Though I did despise him, my desire to specifically see him dead lasted seconds." His voice softened. "I am... sorry that events transpired in such a way as to cause Miss distress. I am sure there was... little other course." Roen stared at him, her lips pressed tightly upon each other. "He is dead, Mister North. You no longer need to spare my feelings about the man." "As you say, Miss. I am merely clarifying. What I wanted proved to be something else." Her head dipped low, her hair falling over her eyes. A long pause of silence fell between them. "What you wanted. What he wanted. Must we know these things too late?" "My intent, Miss, was to remove myself from the equation, that my desires might not have undue effect. I imagine I sought something similar to what Miss pursued, though." The paladin shot him a dark look. "What I pursued was a hopeless wish. Born of .... 'singular devotion'... Mister North. It brought me nothing but pain and regret. I just... I just need you to tell me that at least you... at least someone is better off for this." "That, at least, is unquestionable, Miss." He looked at her, expression still calm and assuring. "But would you resent them for it?" "What if I did?" “I have long said that I am no man to judge, Miss, and I am happy to serve. If you require a vessel for blame, I would happily volunteer." Her face twisted with indignation. "That is not... that is NOT what I..." She felt herself tremble. She hated the fact that his very presence shattered the composure that she had been working so hard to maintain. It was as if the last many moons spent on constructing her walls and tending to the wounds that were now starting to show even the barest hint of closure, were all being undone. Was she so unprepared to see him? "Miss' hot chocolate is getting cold." He observed quietly. Her eyes flared with that, and she spun to snatch up the cup of hot chocolate and hurl it across the room. "Do think that matters?!" she screamed. The metal cup bent as it crashed violently against the stone brick, the hot chocolate then spilling to the floor and staining the rug. Gideon said nothing, for a moment, just watching her patiently. Then after a pause, the valet cleared his throat. "Normally, that is asked as a rhetorical question, Miss." Roen crossed the room again, long angry strides bringing her before the butler. "Are you going to lecture me now? On the ins and outs of rhetoric? Or will you simply bring me more cups of hot chocolate?" Her face burned, her voice shook. "Do you think I feel anything but resentment seeing you here?" That was not the truth, and yet those were the angry words that tumbled forth. Gideon raised a single eyebrow but said nothing. "My disappearance was intentional. I wanted nothing that reminded me of--" She stopped herself, shaking her head. She did not want to even say his name. A part of her knew that this was all in frustration, that Gideon was not deserving of any of it, but she did not care. "You being here… it only brings back all the things I do not wish to think of." When he said nothing, standing still with his hands behind his back, she spun away from him. "So do not stand there and be some willing martyr. I am furious, Gideon. All I feel is regret and... rage.. and..." She bowed her head. "And I am tired of... of blaming myself." Gideon still said nothing, even though his full attention was upon her. Roen spun back around, finding his silence and his serene demeanor absolutely infuriating. "Say something, Gideon. Tell me I am a fool. Or that my anger is misplaced. Or that it will fade. Or my sorrow is unjustified. Or..." Her eyes darted around the room frantically, as if something, anything would give her the answers that he would not. "Say SOMETHING." "I am not in the habit of dispensing false information, Miss." Gideon sighed and approached her. He closed his eyes for a moment in thought but when he opened again, he spoke slowly and with clarity. "I am no man to judge the validity of your feelings. Nor can I presume commonality between our having lost someone, blaming oneself, or being consumed with any given emotion, whether joyful or painful. If the sight of me makes you seethe, then I shall endeavor not to inconvenience you. Otherwise, I can only continue to support you as I have done in the past, providing small comforts where they may ease your mind, if briefly." His gaze fell on the hot chocolate trailing between stones. "I cannot in good conscience tell you, Miss, that the pain will fade. What I can tell you is that it may be wielded." A quiet gasp escaped her lips, her eyes now burning and glistening. She took one step back away from him, stunned by his words. Gideon turned from her and went to where the metal mug lay on the floor. Setting it upright against the wall, he began to scrub the floor. "I..." she whispered after a long pause. "I cannot breathe... Gideon." Auburn locks fell heavily before her eyes as she stared at the floor and her vision blurred. "There are suns where I cannot... breathe...." The valet rose, and taking a slow breath, he moved closer to her side. He removed a handkerchief from his coat and lightly dabbed at her cheeks and eyes. “...Yes, Roen." Roen pressed her lips tightly upon each other to stifle the sobs that wanted to rise. She bowed her head, her forehead just coming to rest against his chest. She stayed there for a long quiet moment, unmoving. Gideon’s hand froze mid-dab, just hovering. But soon enough the paladin gathered herself and straightened, her hands swiping at her cheeks. She squared her shoulders and brushed her hair away. “I should get ready to go,” she said hoarsely, taking one step back from him. Gideon inclined his head, stepping back to their appropriate distance. "...Will you not eat first, Miss?" "I am not hungry. I have things to prepare. You should look to Edda." Roen shook her head and turned for the door, her last few words murmured under her breath. "My apologies for the..." She gave a sidelong glance to the wall and the stain there, but her gaze continued to drift to the man behind her without truly looking at him. Gideon cleared his throat somewhat guiltily. "I... DID prepare Miss's favorite. I thought the dish particularly complementary to these more wintry climes...?" That made her pause at the door, blinking. There was a sad tug to her lips as she looked over her shoulder at Gideon. Ever providing the small comforts… It only made her feel worse. The paladin shook her head, her forelocks falling loose again before her eyes. Without saying another word, she abruptly left the room, intent on heading out to the courtyard. But when she reached the doors that led outside, Roen paused. She stood still for a moment with her hand laid against the wooden grains, before she turned away from the exit and headed towards the kitchens. Tumblr IC Journal and Inspirations Roen Deneith | Nabi Kharlu | Brynnalia Callae

Nero Nero Find all posts by this user Carbide Warrior Posts:910 Joined:Jul 2014 Server:Balmung Reputation: 286 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #67 08-24-2015, 10:38 PM Following the altercation between the knights and the aevis, Kasrjin had made it to retreat to his quarters with haste. The Dravanians had been slaughtered with a furore that was pointedly unconducive to the Xaela maintaining his good health while in Coerthas, and so he'd resolved to spend the remainder of the dawn in his room if at all possible. The mind-numbing inactivity, however, eventually proved itself to provide its own brand of exhaustion, and after what seemed like years of no stimulation save for the occasional flicker from the design he'd carved onto the wall, the Au Ra had practically barrelled out of the inn with naught but his borrowed clothing and the sword in its harness, strapped to his back. A heavy fur coat that roughly matched his proportions had been conveniently left on a coat rack in the bottom floor. The sound of fighting had driven the inhabitants to seek refuge within their homes, and so the inn had stilled with silence. Kasrjin glanced at his surroundings briefly before snatching the coat with little hesitation. Though the cold did not bother him in the slightest, it was his hope that it would mask his silhouette somewhat such that at a distance he may be mistaken for one of the Elezen. The Au Ra's scaled tail caused the rear of the coat to jut out awkwardly somewhat, but a part of him hoped no one would notice. Kasrjin's particular need to avoid other individuals--he had neither the time, energy, or ability to sort out the misunderstandings when they inevitably arose--took him to the fortifications of the settlement. The muted gray brickwork of the walls contrasted with the landscape silvered with snow, dotted with boulders and evergreen trees. The battlements were gratefully yet confusingly empty; he could only assume that seeing as how the aevis had managed to infiltrate the settlement itself, the knights were attending to other points of entrance such that the walls no longer needed constant vigilance. He picked a particular direction and wandered the walls. Despite being somewhat ill-fitting, the sizeable fur coat did well from shielding him from snowflakes and wind, and were the Xaela not painfully aware of how far from home he was, he might have called this walk serene. Kasrjin's movement came to an abrupt halt, however, when he spotted another silhouette standing at the edge of the crenellations, perilously close to the periphery of the parapets. It took some time for his eyesight to fully focus and recognise the figure--her hair had changed, and he hadn't exactly been able to pin down other distinguishing features--as his erstwhile guide, staring into the distance. How exactly did one initiate conversation here? Kasrjin wished to ask Edda a great deal of questions, but something within him that may have been instinct told him that now was an inappropriate time to make such inquiries. Much of him twinged at frustration in the Western continent's circuitous and labyrinthine social practices; every person he had met here so far seemed to have the resilience of a snowflake or a drop of rain, and the boundaries and restrictions of their conversational conventions felt stifling indeed. Faced with a lack of options, he stepped closer so as to be heard above the frigid breeze and called out to her. "Edda." It was awkwardly voiced, halfway between a command and a question, with the uncertainty of his tone being matched only by the certainty that he had likely made another inappropriate assumption. She did not seem to be startled as a voice called out to her. Perhaps she had expected it, but from who exactly was anyone's guess. Edda turned to look over her shoulder at the sound, her brow creased in frustration. Her eyes were red and swollen, from the cold no doubt, her teeth chattering in the exposed cold of her current location. "Khadai," she managed to croak out. It had an inflection that also sounded like a question, and she did not say any more. He tilted his head. "...are you feeling sickness?" A part of Kasrjin knew that the query was a little superfluous, and another part genuinely thought that she might have become stricken with some manner of ailment. "No," Edda responded matter-of-factly. She turned to face him. Despite the precarious location of which she stood, with a drop of nearly a hundred fulms below her, she did not seem at all concerned. Her lips pursed, and she looked at the Xaela searchingly, as if expecting him to say more. Kasrjin returned her yearning expression with a puzzled one of his own. Ordinarily, he would have expected her to have turned away from him, or to ask him what he wanted. The fact that she didn't follow up with any prompt to which he might have responded made him uncomfortable. This was a...cue for him to speak? If it wasn't, he expected that he would be corrected rather testily. "You are...distressed?" It sounded more like a question to himself than to her, as if Kasrjin were guessing the state of tomorrow's weather. And in a way, he was. "I am perfectly fine," the Hyur replied. A sniffle. "Naturally." She looked to the battlements behind him, as if looking for someone to be with him, or putting him up to this. "What is it?" Her tone was terse, and though Kasrjin had expected it, the slight sharpness in her response disappointed him somewhat. He could only reasonably guess that he'd failed in responding to her cue appropriately. And her response was...not helpful. The Au Ra's confusion deepened. Her demeanor was not one of contentment, and yet she insisted that it was. He shifted uncomfortably, tacitly aware that it would be exceedingly difficult for him to judge what was and wasn't an appropriate act in this situation. "...I possess queries. But you do not appear..." a pause and a struggle with vocabulary. "...at ease." A stiff smile appeared almost reflexively on Edda's face. She reached up to wipe at her eyes with a sleeve, and took a deep breath. "What are your questions? At least she is being straightforward. Kasrjin shifted his weight from one foot to another, arms straight down at his sides. "Are you uncomfortable with the arrangements of our agreement?" he asked rather bluntly. "What exactly do you mean?" Grateful that the subject of their conversation was now underway in a relatively direct manner, he crossed his arms, more to wrap the heavy sleeves of the borrowed coat around him than as a social gesture. "You do not appear interested in utilizing my abilities. Are my terms of our transaction unnecessary?" "I am interested," Edda responded coolly. "I have been. I see no reason to rush, however." A pause. She looked hard at the man, studying his reaction closely. "And what of you? Are you dissatisfied?" The Xaela shook his head, sending the ragged green fringes and ponytail to disturb the gentle snowfall that had begun. "No. I wished for you to bring me to this region known as Coerthas. You have done so. You are no longer obligated to me." He straightened his posture. "I would know if you intend to travel to...Ishgard, now that the requirements of your duties to me have been fulfilled. I am still pledged to your service. I would know of your destination." Edda looked away and smirked, but it was one of clear discontent. "What a web you two have spun." She took one step forward and held it, before dropping off the ledge of the battlement. There was a carelessness in her step, and she stared up at the sky as she walked forward. "I had intended to accompany you as far as need be, to see whether or not you were worthy of my trust, and the job I had in mind. Naturally, I am not the best of guides, but the kind of protection I can afford is not one easily found." She looked to him now from a distance, her expression cold and distant. "You - however. And Roen. This does not suit either of you, and it is now known to me that you would have me leave, that you two may continue on in peace." A frown split Kasrjin's face. "I do not possess such intention. Do not ascribe it to me. It is true that the stern woman wished that I part company with you. That is, and was not, an appropriate request. I am compelled to fight for you. I cannot do so away from your side." The Hyur frowned. "And were I to release you from such obligation?" "You are not fit to do so. I refuse your generosity." It was a flat, almost immediate response. "Our agreement was established as a transaction. Until the agreed upon services have been exchange, it is not done, nor shall it be." "And who are you to determine whether or not I am fit to do so?" Edda's voice rose in volume, and she turned to face the Au Ra fully, as if in an attempt to make herself appear bigger. "Why would you refuse me now? Roen had made it sound as if you were more than receptive to the idea." Kasrjin's frown twisted with bewilderment. "It was the stern woman's suggestion that I refuse your generosity. I agree with the idea. To accept your services and fail to give my own is..." he pursed his lips. "...erroneous. I do not know what has been told to you through, but I was not represented accurately. You attempt to break off our agreement out of...charity. I do not accept. Nor shall I. Under the terms of our agreement, you are my charge, and I am bidden to fight for you. Do not confuse the circumstances further." His own tone rose somewhat in austerity. "If anything, you seem to be the one who is confused." She shook her head. Discontent was clear on her face, though not necessarily directed at Kasrjin. "Roen admitted her thoughts to me, and she is not wrong - beyond this point, I am useless to you as a guide. You consider my offer to be one of charity. Do not misunderstand. I offer for your sake, that you might continue your quest unburdened." He shook his head again. "You speak contradiction. You claim your offer is not of charity, yet you offer for my sake alone without desiring compensation. This cannot be so." His stern frown deepened with uncertainty. "For what reason do you continue to refuse the terms of our agreement, if my function is not inadequate? If my capabilities do not meet your standards, then I have erred, and mistakenly offered what I believed to be equitable terms where there were none." The Xaela straightened his posture again. "I am bidden to fight for you. If you believe me to be incapable of fulfilling that duty, then provide your reasoning so that I may disagree with it." The careful listener might have noted the barest hint of pride in his challenge. Edda took a step forward. "Your function is more than adequate," she said quickly. "I am not here, however, to stand in your way. I am no warrior - do you not agree? These were the terms to our agreement yes, but is it truly your wish to lug me around as dead weight?" Kasrjin's silence was long and pronounced, and it was clear that he was deep in thought. Even with the wind picking up in speed somewhat, the occasional errant flake burying itself in his mane of hair or upon the obsidian scales, his eyes shimmered a viridian sheen. The more he thought about his explanation, the less coherent it seemed, but it also seemed to be the best option when it came to justifying his mentality. The seconds of blank air stretched into uncomfortable minutes which felt like hours. "Very few among those with whom I am from are warriors." He spoke slowly, deliberately, as if every single word were handpicked and cleaned from the arbitrary slurry that was his vocabulary. "Yet they too possess relevant function." "People cannot survive with soldiers alone. There must be...artisans. Healers. Leaders. Educators. Traders." He gestured towards her. "Your body cannot survive with only muscle and bone. It must have mind, heart, blood, eyes, mouth, and lungs. On their own, these things possess no value. Only when they are placed within that system are they able to function efficiently." "You speak the truth. You are not a warrior. That does not mean that you are unneeded. It only means that you are needed. You are more necessary than I, who can only perform that with which I possess capacity for." Another pause. "You are not as I. Therefore, I am to rely on you, for without those of differing functions, I cannot adequately perform my own." Kasrjin shifted uncomfortably. He almost felt physically ill from speaking so many words in the foreign language in such a short amount of time. It was a veritable speech on its own, but to the Xaela it was if he'd spent a straight fortnight doing naught but reciting litanies. He only hoped that he managed to convey his idea without ambiguity.

Edda Edda Find all posts by this user being edda is suffering Posts:568 Joined:Aug 2013 Character:Edda Eglantine Server:Balmung Reputation: 303 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #68 08-25-2015, 10:43 PM Khadai’s words were filled with enough weight that Edda felt as if she could hardly breathe. She looked away from him, a look of frustration crossing her features. Though his thoughts had been clear and succinct, a shadow of doubt lingered in her mind. Never before had anyone said such a thing to her. The possibility of him lying crossed her mind – surely he was capable enough to never have to rely on her, as was anyone else. Yet Khadai was no liar. If anything, he was too honest, nearly brazen with the harsh truth that often accompanied his words. He did not seem one for pity either, but the fear of such still spread through her. Edda waited some before responding. “And what of Ishgard?” She asked slowly. “What will you do there? Leave me, if you so deign to travel to the lands beyond? If so, that is…” She trailed off and shook her head, looking at the snow collecting in the joints between the stone construct. It is what? A question she herself could not answer. “My intention within Ishgard is to gather relevant information. I cannot do so without one to interpret that which I do not understand. Yet my first intention is to fulfill the terms of our transaction. If you are not to be destined for Ishgard, then I shall postpone my own assignment until such a time that I am called upon you to fight in your stead.” The woman snapped to attention and looked at Khadai quickly, surprise clear on her face. “Wh-what? No…no. That will not be necessary. I am not so selfish.” He stepped forward aggressively, befitting his martial demeanor. “I am to fight in your stead. I am bidden to offer my body and abilities. Do you intend to continue denying this?” The height of the Xaela was much more apparent as he stepped closer. It was an intimidating sight, and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled in nervousness. Edda glared up at him and leaned forward, as if to resist him. “I am not denying your function! I have not denied it at all! Why must you persist in this way? Are you so eager for bloodshed, so eager to uphold your end of the bargain that you might be rid of me? If that is all you want, I could just as easily send you out to kill a pack of wolves at my whim, and consider the contract complete!” She seethed, her face heated from anger and embarrassment. “And yet that is not… Not what I want. What I need…” She sighed, her voice considerably lower, her shoulders sagging. “To partake of your service without offering my own in return is wrong,” he said sternly, almost patronizingly. “It is theft. You would bid me to steal something of value from you without repercussion or compensation.” A gloved hand reached up to scratch at his head near his horns. His vexation was clear. “And if I am to hunt wolves for you, then hunt I shall. But I am aware that you possess a specific task in mind that you have not deigned to reveal to me.” Edda felt at a loss for words. Dealing with one as straightforward as Khadai was a tiring experience, one she was certainly not used to. “…Yes, that is so,” she said after a time, her voice no longer bearing the ire from before. “And yet, I know not when. Do you not see, Khadai? It could be in the next few suns, several moons from now, even a cycle. I do not… wish to burden you so, nor anyone else, with such a thing. “To live and breathe with the constant threat of being called away looming over your head, not knowing when… It is unpleasant.” She looked up at him closely. There was a look in her eye that bore sympathy, empathy even, at living a life not quite one’s own. Khadai shifted again. “I am not unfamiliar with the sensation, nor do I find it unwelcome. You have a task. You yourself are not capable of accomplishing this. We have entered an agreement wherein each of us obtains a service from the other that is beneficial to our intentions.” His eyes hardened into a stern gaze. “It is not your place to judge whether or not I am to be compelled to your service. It is already done. Do not ascribe the proclivities of this continent to me. They are not valid. You will utilize me as our transaction demands. There will be no further discussion.” The woman made a small noise in the back of her throat that sounded either argumentative or acquiescence. It was hard to say. Such lip and pushiness from one who claimed to be obligated to her was most foreign. Her father would surely have burst a vessel at the sight of her being browbeaten into submission by some foreign barbarian, and Edda knew that she should find her situation humiliating. And yet, the assurance he possessed came only as a relief, and somewhere deep in her heart burned only with happiness. “You are difficult,” was all Edda managed to choke out, and she looked away, her face flushed red. The man tilted his head. “I believe myself to be within the boundaries of ease.” The disagreement was spoken matter-of-factly. She looked back at him out of the corner of her eye, an eyebrow raised. “Perhaps in your eyes. You come from a different world.” She sighed. “So often am I used to being assured that those pledged to me will obey me without question.” He tilted his head in the other direction. “I am only of use in my capacity as a warrior because I am an individual with thought, and not a thoughtless storm. “If you are to utilize my abilities, then I am duty-bound to inform you in how you may most efficiently utilize those abilities. It is permissible for you to convey inefficient commands when you lack awareness of my capabilities, and should you do so, I shall endeavor to correct you. None are perfect.” It was barely perceptible, but the slightest corner of his lip almost curled somewhat at the statement. Edda thought on this for a long minute. For a brief moment, a look of relief washed over her face, and her expression softened. “Y-yes, I suppose that is true.” She hesitated, and frowned at herself. It still did not seem quite fair to her, for the man to be bound to one so insignificant as her. “…I am sorry I cannot be of more use to you. And yet, I would see this through. You need not force yourself to explain them to me – but I would see what your intentions are.” Her voice was nearly a whisper toward the end, a lingering shame pervading her words. “I do not understand. Clarify the contexts in which I am to possess intentions for you to function.” She flushed at his misunderstanding. Still, the blame lay with her for not being more concise. “That is not—not at all what I meant. I only mean to know the extent of your purpose here in Eorzea.” A pause. “Perhaps ‘intentions’ was not the right word, as you yourself mentioned you were still unsure. I only… I only seek to take responsibility for my actions. The actions that have brought us both to where we are now.” Khadai’s face twisted in consternation. “Do you refer to the agreement wherein I requested that you guide me to Coerthas?” “Yes.” Confusion was still apparent on his face, but he did not press further on the matter. Instead, he abruptly shifted to answering her earlier query. “I am searching for… certain things. I do not know if these concepts can be found upon the Western continent or what they are called. Therefore, because you demand that I make use of your relevant abilities, I would ask you to interpret the information that I come across for me that I may perhaps find them relevant to my assignment.” He frowned. “…I also do not know how to read the Western continent’s written language. I would rectify this somehow.” She blinked. That was not the response she had anticipated in any capacity. The look he had given at her disjointed thoughts seemed an annoyed one, but his answer was patient and clear. Her lips parted absently in thought. “Y-yes, those are… duties with which I could assist.” She looked down and licked her lips, having become dry in the chill of the morning air. A smile toyed at the corners of her mouth. An earnest one, but at what was unclear to even her. “It would be difficult to learn to read and write quickly, so in the mean time, I can do so for you. And… whatever else.” As if he perceived some manner of discontent from her, Khadai was quick to speak again. “I repeat my point. You possess a relevance in function precisely because you are not similar to me. In addition, you are not obligated to my service. Whether or not I am to partake of your services is irrelevant; you are free to go where you choose.” He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Unless you wish to open another transaction of services.” Edda looked back up at him with confusion. “Whatever for?” “If you are to interpret information for me, then you will not receive an equitable service unless we establish a transaction.” The meaning behind his words sunk in, and Edda gawked at the man for a moment before bowing her head – low – and staring at her feet. “It is…” she mumbled the rest, unintelligible. “Repeat yourself.” “I said—“ She looked up and spoke louder. Her face was bright red, her expression one of considerable bashfulness. “I said it is enough that I am helpful and… And that what little I can do is desired.” He looked at her quizzically but said nothing and merely nodded. “Am I correct in believing that your destination is Ishgard?” “I would like to,” she said. Then, in a quiet voice, “I do not think Roen will be very pleased.” “The stern woman is irrelevant. Though her martial capacity may provide us grounds with which to reach reconciliation, her function is redundant. “In the mean time, should I require navigation, then I will rely upon you to find one who can efficiently fulfill such a purpose.” He stopped as he opened his mouth as if suddenly struck by memory. “…Where are my garments? I could not find them.” “Oh. Well yes, alright… I can do that.” She scowled slightly, unsure how to take his assessment of Roen. She knew the paladin had only her best interests at heart, however deeply they wounded her. So often were her thoughts and actions dictated by others, but she had not expected such to come from one she might dare to consider a friend. Though they had spoken vaguely on it, Edda had hoped she would understand the hurt it would cause. And yet here she was, the bitter memory of the wind biting at her wet cheeks still painful in the forefront of her mind. “And they are in my room, Khadai. As clean as they were on the first sun you wore them.” He nodded. “Then I will retrieve them before we leave. This clothing is… restrictive.” He shifted uncomfortably as if to illustrate his point. “When will we depart?” Edda tried not to look at the Xaela in his unfitting clothing, the memory of his nudity from the other night still stark in her mind. Never before had she witnessed the unclothed form of a man, and it was something she was now trying desperately to forget. She cleared her throat. “We will depart soon. I need only gather my belongings and whatever supplies we may need. It should not take but a moment, and the journey should be a short one.” A solemn nod. “I will be within my quarters.” With naught more than that, he strode away. The rising sun could barely be seen behind the thick veil of clouds, yet it was clear the morning had already settled in. From atop the battlements, the shadowy mirage of Ishgard could be seen, and Edda stared at it for a few minutes. It was not far off, the realization that she would be headed to the mysterious city having not quite settled in. She shivered. Content that she had given Gideon and Roen enough time to reconnect, Edda turned on her heel and made her way back to her room.

Roen Roen Find all posts by this user Visit this user's website A Free Sworn Posts:1,230 Joined:Nov 2013 Character:Roen Deneith Server:Balmung Reputation: 306 Timezone:UTC-8 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #69 09-01-2015, 07:00 PM “I’d be lying if I said I’ll miss yer charming company.” Bellows chewed on a piece of dried jerky as he leaned against the wooden post of the Dragonhead stables, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Despite the the fact that he was overseeing the preparation of the chocobos, once Roen had made her hurried exit from the inn, Bellows seemed content in letting the paladin do the rest of the prepping. When she did not deign to answer him, he snorted. “Or your persistent chattering.” Roen fastened the buckle of her saddle for the third time, pausing only when Goldwind let out an impatient quark as to protest to her forceful tugging. But the paladin continued in her double and triple checking of all of the equipment, while waiting for the rest of the company to exit from their abode. The small bowl of mushroom chanterelle that she had sampled in the kitchens still warmed her belly and her thoughts still swam with the lingering emotions of the talk she had with Gideon. She was grateful for the cold morning winds that cooled her cheeks and calmed the slight puffiness to her eyes. She felt her mask of composure securely back in place by the time Edda and Gideon exited the inn, making their way towards their respective mounts with their bags in tow. “The trip should not be too taxing and the weather should hold,” Roen greeted them without a smile, her tone businesslike. She spared Edda a single nod before squinting to the grey skies above. “Heavy snowfall has yet to start, with any luck, we may only see a light flurry.” The paladin paused in her task as she counted only two out of the three. She looked beyond Edda and Gideon towards the inn again. “Is everyone ready?” "Gideon is ready, yes, as to be expected." Edda looked back to Roen with a quizzical face. "As for Khadai, he should be, but I've not seen him. He knows we are to leave..." She turned to Gideon. "Did you see the Au Ra fellow at all? The tall, horned fellow, unusually brusque." "I have oft heard of this individual, Miss, but have not yet encountered anyone by the description." The valet’s answer was calm and unruffled as usual. "If Miss so desires, I can seek him out?" A sharp whistle caught all of their attention. "He's outside the walls," Bellows called out, jerking his head westward. "Communing with the snow or some nonsense. Best get on out there before there are more bodies laying around, eh?" Roen gave the Hyur a pointed glare before she took the reins and led her bird out to the road leading west. She could not deny that she was relieved to part from the Midlander’s grating company. Edda and Gideon followed suit behind her, mounting their birds after fastening their bags onto the saddle. Khadai had been easy enough to spot, he was sitting crosslegged in the snow with his eyes closed. The blued length of steel was secure in its harness, and on his back was the simple furred pack slung over his left shoulder. Gone were the borrowed clothing, and returned were the winter furs and leathers, and the metal spaulder covering an exposed arm. Roen was silently glad to see that his armor no longer bore the bloodstains from before. His pose seemed almost meditative, but he was quick to bolt to his feet upon their approach. "The trek to Ishgard should not take more than a few bells." Roen nodded her greeting to the Xaela to which she was rewarded with a nod. An awkward moment’s pause fell between all of them as Roen glanced to the three gathered. She was not certain if they already knew each other and if she was the last one that was surprised by Gideon’s sudden appearance this morning. The paladin finally cleared her throat. "So we will all be traveling to Ishgard together." She made an absent gesture at the two behind her. "I trust you all know each other?" "No," Edda answered, shaking her head. She gestured to the man next to her. "Khadai, this is Gideon. He is my valet-" The noblewoman stopped abruptly, frowning. "He is... a companion of mine. Skilled, and knowledgable." The valet inclined his head from atop the chocobo. "My duty is to attend to the mistress's needs as pertaining to more commonplace and routine matters. When the situation calls for it, I should be glad to receive sir's guidance on the navigational matters at hand--" He stopped shortly as the Xaela he was addressing crossed his arms and turned to face westward, seemingly eager to start their journey. Gideon gave a sidelong glance to Edda as if to wait for her response. When Edda just gave Gideon an apologetic shrug of the shoulder and spurred her bird into a slow walk, Roen narrowed her eyes. Ever blunt and impatient, this Xaela. She too mounted Goldwind, clucking her tongue to start an easy relaxed stride. When she spoke her again, her tone was crisp. "Mister North is very knowledgeable and learned in all manners of etiquette and culture. Perhaps he can give you a few advice on what to expect in Ishgard?" She ventured a glance at the valet. "That is, if you have anything that may be of assistance to someone completely new to the area. And the society." "I shall engage in queries as they become relevant," the Xaela rumbled as he fell into long strides next to the three riders. "It is needless to ask without specific purpose." Gideon nodded genially, apparently expecting such a response. "I shall endeavor to keep such knowledge at the forefront of my mind, should sir require it under duress." The paladin let out a quick exhale through her nostrils. Her lips opened as if to protest again, before she closed them shut thinking the better of it. She always knew Gideon to hold his composure under almost any circumstance, and likely some abrupt mannered foreigner would be no different. She spurred Goldwind onward to take point. As Dragonhead faded to a distant vision of white stones behind them, the sky began to greet them with a light flurry of snow. The whistling winds called from the mountains to the north and filled the silence as the three riders kept an easy pace. Khadai maintained long strides without any obvious difficulty, keeping up with the longer-legged chocobos despite being afoot. Occasionally he would break out into a short jog when his pace slowed in comparison, but otherwise he managed to keep in step with the rest. It was when Roen could no longer see Dragonhead behind them that she turned to Edda. She tilted her head slightly to motion her forward. "Edda, may we speak...?" Edda snapped to attention, seemingly lost in thought before. She gave the paladin a bewildered expression before nodding quickly. "Y-yes, of course," she said, her cheeks slightly flushing. She straightened in her saddle and quickened her bird’s stride to catch up to the paladin. Roen pulled slightly ahead of the group, as if to distance their conversation from the men behind them. "I just... wanted to apologize. For before." The paladin kept her voice low. She only glanced to Edda for a short period of time, before turning her eyes back onto the road. "I should not have presumed things for you." "No," Edda said succinctly, but it was not with malice. "You should not have. But it happens enough that I am quite used to it - it is safer that way, some would argue." The noblewoman too looked to the view ahead, but Roen could feel a sidelong glance returning to her. "I understand," Edda continued, a smile in her voice. "It is only natural to be concerned for the safety of a dear friend." The paladin released a white puff of breath through her nose, her gaze bowing just a little with a nod. "...Aye." Her own response was soft, pensive. She chewed her lower lip for a moment longer, pondering her next words. When she spoke again, it was even quieter. "And I owe you more gratitude for..." The paladin glanced behind them with but a slightest turn of her head, but it was obvious who she was not quite looking at. She just pursed her lips and shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid. "Naturally." Edda nodded. "I am happy to do favors for those who ask it of me. Though I would have done so without your prompting, truth be told." She paused and looked to face the woman fully, her expression muted, but sincere. "You need not worry. I will see to his safety." Roen turned to meet the noblewoman’s gaze, and even though she did not say anything more, there was a sense of relief that bloomed within. She nodded again, sparing only the briefest of glances to those behind them before turning her attention back to the road. That was when Khadai broke his silence. “Are the animals wont to leave meals unfinished?” The paladin turned to the strange question, glancing first at the Xaela then following his gaze to an odd sight off the side of the road. She spotted the flock of carrion birds circling the sky in the distance. That spectacle in and of itself was nothing out of the ordinary, but as her gaze drifted downward, the paladin found herself squinting. Beneath the birds, there was an odd silhouette that stood out against the white snowy canvas. Something was protruding from the ground at a skewed angle, weighed by an object that was hanging from the top of the long shaft. She brought her bird to a stop, leaning slightly to try and get a better look. “No, they are not,” she muttered. "Just a carcass from a hunt, perhaps." The noblewoman too was craning her neck to get a better look, but her tone was nervous, hesitant. “Let me just check this out first--” Roen began, only to watch Khadai as he turned and darted off into a long loping run towards the scene in question. The paladin could only let out an impatient sigh as she watched his fur pack bouncing against his left shoulder, the Au Ra making a surprisingly quick pace through the snowdrift. She clucked her tongue for Goldwind to follow. She could hear Edda and Gideon following suit, although at a slower pace than her own. When Roen caught up to the Xaela, it became obvious that it was no remnant of a hunt that they had discovered. A thick wooden stake had been driven into the ground, its sharpened end pointed to the sky. And from its apex hung a limp, lifeless body, impaled through the chest. A pale horned female Au Ra hung from the end of the stake, her eyes lifeless, staring in frozen horror, and her mouth agape in a silent scream. Tumblr IC Journal and Inspirations Roen Deneith | Nabi Kharlu | Brynnalia Callae

Edda Edda Find all posts by this user being edda is suffering Posts:568 Joined:Aug 2013 Character:Edda Eglantine Server:Balmung Reputation: 303 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #70 09-08-2015, 07:03 PM Time seemed to slow as the group came upon the body. That she had expected it be nothing more than an animal’s carcass made it all the more shocking to Edda, who turned away immediately at the sight of it. Bile rose in the back of her throat and she put a hand to her mouth. More of this – and though she was adapting to it, the brutality of it was still appalling, far more so than the corpses of those killed in combat. This was nearly beast-like, the cruelty of it so deep that she had to wonder if those that did such a thing were even people at all. She urged Gullinbursti closer to Gideon and huddled as close to him as she could, still looking away. The valet moved in front of Edda quietly, and examined the scene with little reaction, save a raised eyebrow. Carefully extracting some paper from within his jacket, he began sketching a crude map, triangulating them as best he could based on the distance between Dragonhead and the Gates. Edda glanced to him in apprehension, then around him, looking anywhere but at the corpse. Both Khadai and Roen advanced toward the body, both of them perhaps more accustomed to such sights. Khadai frowned at the body, and examined it with a curious eye. “No weapons. No signs of struggle. There had been no conflict.” He pursed his lips. “An execution?” Behind him, Roen slid off her chocobo as she approached and walked closer, her boots crunching in the snow. She nodded slowly, a long exhale released through her nostrils. “Never have I came upon something like this before.” “As I understand,” Gideon began. “Executions in the northern region are typically inquisitorial in nature. I would say the unfortunate mistress may have been too draconic for the locals’ liking, but… this seems remarkably visceral. Moreso than their reputed methods, at any rate.” “This is an… uncommon occurrence, then?” Khadai asked. It was a clinical approach to the situation, one that brought both comfort and displeasure to Edda. Her reaction was an expected one, the pity, fear, and horror still swelling in her stomach. Yet there was little room for weakness here, nor anywhere else. She bit her lip and scanned the horizon. “Should free her of it,” she said softly, her voice barely audible above the howling winds. “It is cruel.” Khadai aimed a confused glance at Edda briefly, before he turned, prepared to begin moving again. “It is a body. Leave it.” “I know full well what it is!” She snapped at the Xaela and glared at him. No argument beyond that was offered, however, and she fell silent. To expect anything more of him had been a mistake, even with the dead being one of his own race. It was not as if he had afforded any sensibility toward the dead before, so why should now be any different? Roen glanced at Edda and then to Khadai, her expression darkened. She tilted her head incredulously at the man, and again glanced between the two Au Ra, one alive and one dead. “No, we are not leaving her like this.” She turned to face Gideon. “Mist North, if you can please aid me in getting her down?” Now it was Khadai’s turn to look at Gideon. “I request clarification on the current situation.” Seeing fit to ignore the man, Edda slid off her chocobo, landing with a grunt in the snowy down. She brushed past Khadai and made her way to Roen, standing ready to help in any way that she could, which was admittedly very little. Gideon paused at the two addressing him, then nodded, speaking plainly and calmly as he levered himself down and slipped off his gloves. “Miss Deneith and my mistress aim to grant the unknown victim dignity that she was robbed of in death, and have momentarily decided to suspend their progress that they might lend her assistance. This will assuage their distress at the situation, and prevent further agitation aroused by any other patrols that might otherwise happen upon her.” His polished shoes crunched over the snow as he smoothly trotted towards the corpse, inspecting and adjusting it for movement with a politely blank expression. Roen blinked as Edda approached, but did not immediately refuse her, and for that she was grateful. The paladin went to the other side of the wooden stake, looking from its base to the end. Her face hardened as she could not help but stare at the dead female once more. “It is already bent from the weight, I think we can bring it down further then free her.” She began to put her weight upon the mid-length of the stake, testing the foundation even as Gideon offered his explanation. Khadai turned and stared at the stake and its unfortunate occupant with a critical eye. “Is the current objective, then, to have the body reach ground level?” “That remains to be seen, sir,” Gideon said. He glanced to Edda politely. “Does miss wish a simple burial, or shall I transport her remains back to Dragonhead and allow you to progress further in my absence?” She shook her head. “Here is fine.” She frowned at herself, and though she stood poised to assist, she did not know how. “As you wish, miss.” “This is pointless. It is a dead body. Would you have us care for fallen leaves as well?” Khadai folded his arms, a frown of confused frustration on his face. A retort made its way to Edda’s lips, but she swallowed it, instead focusing on the task at hand. It seemed pointless to scold Khadai, as it was clear he was set in his ways. The gulf that separated their beliefs seemed wider than before, one too perilous to attempt to cross. It was not a bad thing, no, for she could hardly blame the man for being born and raised in a completely different part of the world; his utter disregard for life was jarring, and one she could not understand. Still, it was not such a terrible thing as she treated it, and it was now that she became certain he would be willing to do what she asked of him when the time was right. The Xaela’s words did not seem to sit right with Roen, and she grunted as she pushed on the stake and motioned Edda forward. “Just lean here if you can. I think we can lower the stake. Perhaps Mister North…” She gave another look to Khadai, this one of impatience. “…Or Khadai can lend a hand and free her.” She glared at him, her words carrying a sharp rebuke. “This would be one of those lessons that you would do well to learn before going to Ishgard. Dead people are not regarded the same as dead foliage.” Gideon stepped forward, and clarified. “The immediate aim is to lower the body, and grant it some measure of concealment by whatever the elements may provide.” He circled behind her, placing his hands on her shoulder blades with gentle firmness. “Miss may avert her eyes, if desired—“ Edda stepped forward as Roen motioned to her, and leaned on the stake as instructed. She shook her head at Gideon’s suggestion – there was no room for weakness here. Not ever. Her lack of physical strength was apparent, however, even the leverage of her bodyweight shunted by the poor footing. The exertion on her face was clear, though it accomplished nothing. A deep sigh followed a long pause of contemplation, and Khadai withdrew his sword from its harness, stepping forward to approach the stake. “Very well. If you insist on removing the body, then we shall do so efficiently.” He raised the sword in the air, as if to slice the cadaver’s torso clean off. “Remove yourselves from it,” he instructed. “It will be quicker in pieces.” “What are you doing? Stop!” Edda immediately jumped forward from her position at the stake, planting herself between the sword and the corpse. She glared up at him, and put a stopping hand out pathetically, as if it would achieve more than her words. A flash of irritation crossed his face, though he did lower his sword and angle it towards the side so as to indicate that was not intending on cutting the Hyur down. “It is a body. It does not possess any trace of the person it once was. If you insist that we are to waste time disposing of remains, then it is best that we do so in the most expedient manner possible. Moving the body off of the stake, or moving the stake itself when faced with size and weight is impractical. Therefore I shall remove what pieces are possible. It will be a simple matter.” Patiently, and remaining in position, Gideon cleared his throat. “The aim in returning her to a peaceful state and position, sir, is to symbolically treat her with more respect and care than her apparent attackers. Dismemberment, while pragmatic, would somewhat be in opposition with the moral intent of providing her mercy and reprieve.” “Reprieve? It is a dead body,” Khadai repeated. “Shall we bathe and dress it? Is this dead body in position to appreciate the care with which it is treated?” The sword slipped back into its harness. “Enough. I can see I have erred, though I may not understand why.” Roen’s eyes widened with disbelief. She released a long suffering breath, as if forcing herself to not speak to hastily. Her composure was stiff, and it was apparent to Edda that the woman was holding herself back, and for that she could hardly be blamed. There was little to be accomplished by lashing out at one so set in his values. Roen went to study the stake once more, turning her attention away from the debate. “You need not understand,” Edda said. She turned away from Khadai and positioned herself at the stake once more. “It is enough for you to know that this is a different land, with different people. Do not impose the inclinations of your peoples on us – for they are not ours. We shall do what we feel is right.” “There is writing here,” Roen said to no one in particular. When Edda approached again, she pointed out the carved letters in the wooden shaft. Edda leaned in to peer at the writing, reading: ‘Where there is sin, we bring atonement.’ “More of this Ishgardian nonsense?” Edda said, in a tone more harsh than usual for her. “Such belligerence in their beliefs—“ She stopped and took a step back as Khadai stepped suddenly into her position at the stake, knees bent. He wrapped his arms around the stake and placed the side of his face against the wooden shaft such that the steel tipped point of his left horn was digging into the wood, and grunted. Muscles strained and his knees shook with the effort, and though it did not free the stake, it noticeably shifted upwards and had leaned over a few ilms. Roen stared, eyes widened once more as Khadai took to moving the stake all by his lonesome. Another long exhale puffed in a cloud of white as she joined in the effort at least in trying to lower the leaning a bit more but a bit higher on the length of the stake. “Mister North…!” She grunted as well. “If you could see if the body can be reached…?” The Xaela repeated the gesture several more times, each time causing the stake to lean slightly more and more with each attempt. Eventually he ceased attempting to lift it and instead used his height to lean against it as close to the top – and near the cadaver – as he could. With his hands still on the body’s shoulder blades, Gideon reacted with careful competence and no questioning – dropping his grip to her ribcage, he set his jaw, pushing with quiet exertion. A couple seconds passed before a crackle broke through the air – once half frozen to the stake, the body jolted upward, the ice broken by their collective efforts. Only a moment more passed, a slight wrinkle of distaste crossing his expression, before the body came loose. Gideon hastily darted to catch her, the lifeless corpse flopping down with the valet’s arms under her own; the gaping hole in her chest now readily visible. “…Ah.” There was little Edda could do, and so the woman opted to stand back and watch, hands covering her mouth. Useless, useless, useless. A deserving mantra. She gasped as the body came free, and she could not help but stare at it, now expecting the mangled state it was in. On one of her thin ankles was tied a piece of linen cloth, an odd thing since it did not seem to belong as part of her garment, and it was free of the spatter of blood that marked the rest of the body. The corpse’s feet began to sink slowly into the snow as she remained in Gideon’s grip. Roen released her own hold on the stake as she was trying to lean it further down, her grimace now turning from one of exertion to that of condemnation at the sight. “Mister North, perhaps you can take her back to Dragonhead? Then join us in Ishgard? Perhaps she has family that needs to be notified.” She walked around towards him and the body. “I can send a missive with you. Just bring her to the attention of Ser Tournes.” She looked to the female’s face, one hand rising to close the woman’s eyes. “Is that wise?” Edda turned to look at Roen sharply, lowering her hands from her mouth. “There is no guarantee she will not receive the same treatment there, as the camp is still beleaguered with Halone, and—“ She stopped, and a look of realization dawned on her face. She looked between the two friends, and then fell silent, bowing her head to stare at her feet. Oh. Oh. Of course, what good was her word between old friends? No doubt they had missed each other, separated by strife and circumstance, and now finally reunited – there was no place for her here. It was wrong of Edda, perhaps, to have expected anything different; the sharp slap of realization as to what weight she carried here settled in her chest, the pangs of a barren hole carved by a formless stake. Roen was right, had always been right. It had been foolish of her to believe otherwise. Stillness overcame Edda as her fingers dug tiny crescents into the palms of her hands. “That will not be necessary, Miss,” Gideon started. He immediately began taking the leftover bags and cloth from Chesterfield’s back, beginning to wrap her in a makeshift shroud. “I believe I provided the camp with enough minor comforts that I should be recognized, and my own word afforded due acknowledgement. You may go on ahead to ensure your business is not delayed; I will attend to the unfortunate miss.” He nodded politely to Edda and Khadai in turn. “Miss will find her essentials in the appropriate saddled bag. I apologize for the delay, sir, and wish you luck and insight on the road ahead. I will return shortly.” Without further delay, he hunched in the snow, quietly seeing to the woman’s impromptu, ragged covers. Khadai frowned but said nothing, and merely trudged off in the direction of the road. “Not all Halone’s believers are cruel or suspecting of all outsiders,” Roen said after some delay, looking at Edda out of the corner of her eye. She nodded to Gideon. “Gratitude, Mister North, for your assistance.” “Such is my purpose, Miss.” He delicately covered the hole in her chest. “On you go, now.” “I will still send a missive to Ser Tournes once we reach Ishgard to inquire further on this matter.” The paladin shook her head. “This is… not…” A pause. “It is not right and it is certainly not the law of the land here. Not this.” She turned to Edda, as if trying to convince her as much as herself. Edda wrapped her arms around herself, her expression morphing into a pained frown. She looked at Roen carefully and nodded as best she could, before turning on her heel and mounting Gullinbursti. She stared at Gideon, still busying himself in wrapping the corpse, before sighing and covering her face in her hands. Chesterfield tweeted grudgingly at them, as if demanding to be taken along. The valet murmured, not stirring from his work. “Patience.” Roen mounted her bird, but pulled up next to Edda. The look she gave her was one of sympathy. “We should go. If anything to make certain that Khadai does not meet the same fate.” Her voice had softened, as did her countenance. Edda straightened up, and withdrew her hands from her face. “Yes,” was all she said, and urged her chocobo forward. Khadai had not made it too far, thankfully, and it did not take too long for the two to catch up to him. He did not say anything, and merely continued his long strides with a stern expression of thought on his face. The rest of the trip to the Gate of Judgment was spent in silence.

Nero Nero Find all posts by this user Carbide Warrior Posts:910 Joined:Jul 2014 Server:Balmung Reputation: 286 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #71 09-08-2015, 07:40 PM Walls and gates were not a foreign concept. The so-called Gates of Judgment, however, and the long bridge that the guard had referred to as the Steps of Faith, did not seem to fit the moniker of "wall" or "gate". "Monument" seemed more apt. Even oblivious as he was to this land's culture, even he could tell that the ominous length of the bridge, the towering parapets, and the massive gatehouse were both designed for defense...and to be a symbol. The traffic was varied. Ragtag groups of armed individuals idly passed through the gates after consulting with the knights on duty. Wagons and carts full of goods managed to make their way through after lengthy, exhaustive inspections. Armoured soldiers similar to those that were present at Dragonhead kept a vigilant watch, eyes narrowly peering through the slits of helmets, scrutinizing all who passed by. Kasrjin noted the stern glances of disgust and the tensing of hands on weapons whenever one of their eyes fell upon him. The fact that they did not immediately take action proved that they did not believe him to be a Dravanian, or at the least, they'd been given orders to the contrary regarding individuals such as himself. That told him two things: one, that there were other Au Ra present around or perhaps even inside the city. That would be advantageous. Two, these knights were not like the two buffoons that had assaulted them earlier. Though, it was entirely possible that if they--that is, the knights--did not know Au Ra existed, they might have attacked him on sight anyway. Just to be sure. The Xaela adjusted his clothing and made a pointed notion of keeping the handle of his sword out of reach, attempting to minimize the threat he seemed to presented. It was easier said and done; Kasrjin stood half a head taller than most of the Elezen knights, and more than a head and a half taller than the shorter Hyur. The number of ugly glares the Au Ra received exceeded counting. Despite that, the trio managed to reach the gate and the knight attending to it with little trouble. It would seemed that random, motley groups of armed individuals were not of note, as with little more than a stern nod, the knight ushered the trio through the portcullis of the gate, and into the city proper. It was...not what he expected. Crumbling fortifications lay desecrated. Idle bits of stone and lumber were strewn about. In the far distance, what once must have been an intimidating statue was missing a great deal of its upper body. The Xaela was expecting something more...substantial. He was expecting a fortress. He was expecting soldiers training in every street, porters carrying supplies, something that indicated that this was a city prepared for war on a moment's notice. Instead, what he saw were battered, tired knights, destitute rabble, and an atmosphere that reeked of a certain measure of melancholy. Somehow, it reminded him of the body that they had found impaled on the side of the road. "...shall we secure lodging?" was all he managed to successfully filter from the whirlwind of thoughts and observations in his mind. He suddenly felt consciously out of place; his tribal furs and leathers were well-constructed, but if Kasrjin was fully aware of anything by this point, it was that he had become far too insistent in projecting his own expectations on the Western continent. Some compromise would be necessary, if only to avoid conflict.

Roen Roen Find all posts by this user Visit this user's website A Free Sworn Posts:1,230 Joined:Nov 2013 Character:Roen Deneith Server:Balmung Reputation: 306 Timezone:UTC-8 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #72 09-10-2015, 12:30 AM (This post was last modified: 09-10-2015, 12:47 AM by Roen.) Ishgard’s climate had noticeably chilled since the last time she had walked the cobbled pavement of the city, but it was not the temperature that bit at her. From the wary glances to the nearly belligerent glower that were thrown in the Xaela’s direction, Roen found her hand swinging just a little closer to her weapon as they made their way across the long bridge into the walled city. It was only when they reached the giant aetheryte crystal, where the merchants and the adventurers seemed more prevalent in their mingling, that the paladin allowed herself to relax. Here the inhospitable air seemed to lift, giving way to one of indifference. Had this city-state been so hostile when she first arrived? The paladin could not recall. Perhaps her senses were so dulled then that she had not taken much note of her environment. But the image of the frozen woman’s face still hovered in her memory, enough so that it had prickled her senses and made her more aware of her surroundings as they entered through the Gates of Judgement. Roen stole a few glances at Khadai, and while his expression remained severe as ever, she noted a slight odd shift in his posture; his gaze flitted about and she thought she heard a note of uncertainty that tinged his words. Certainly if she felt like an outsider here, she could not imagine how it must be for a true foreigner like an Au Ra. “Lodging would be good,” the paladin nodded in agreement. “The Forgotten Knight might have some rooms available still. With the influx of mercenaries and traders, it had gotten quite crowded in the city.” Roen frowned. She recalled that despite the fact that the Forgotten Knight shared its doors with the lowborns of the Brume, the inn itself had become quite popular since the gates were opened. It was only because Ser Tournes personally knew the innkeeper that she was afforded a room at a decent rate. Roen pursed her lips and looked to Edda with a conciliatory cant of her head. “The prices for a room may be quite extraordinary, despite the condition of the lodging.” Strangely, she felt the need to lower the noblewoman’s expectations before Edda saw the dark and dingy room for herself. “But it is what is available to the new arrivals.” Roen gestured toward the stairs that led to the tavern, before she paused. She glanced over her shoulder to Khadai, looking him over up and down. “Perhaps a visit to the Jeweled Crozier is also in order. While your furs may have served you well until now, it distinctly marks you a stranger above than the rest. You would do well to try and blend in with the others in the city as much as possible while you are here.” It all may be a futile effort, for nothing would hide his scales and horns, but she did not want to admit that. The paladin looked toward the path that sloped upwards. “If you find yourself walking uphill, likely you will end up in The Pillars. It is the wealthier part of the city.” She gave another sidelong glance to Edda. “I do not know if you have any connections here, but that is where the noble houses can be found as well as the artisans in the Jeweled Crozier.” She turned and swept her hand towards the Forgotten Knight and beyond. “And if you wish, I can show you The Brume as well. The poorer parts of Ishgard.” Her voice dipped as the paladin added with a small frown, “It is night and day, the difference between the two.” She found herself almost reaching for the two earrings that hung from the thin chain around her neck. The amethysts set in their delicate filigrees seemed to press against her chest just a bit heavier beneath the armor. Roen dismissed the wave of melancholy that threatened to take her with a shake of her head, as if she was loosening some snowflakes from her eyelashes. “Let us get you settled in,” she muttered as she ascended the steps with long strides toward the Forgotten Knight. Tumblr IC Journal and Inspirations Roen Deneith | Nabi Kharlu | Brynnalia Callae

Edda Edda Find all posts by this user being edda is suffering Posts:568 Joined:Aug 2013 Character:Edda Eglantine Server:Balmung Reputation: 303 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #73 09-18-2015, 02:47 AM The Forgotten Knight was not quite what Edda had expected. Luxury and warmth was far from what she had hoped to see, but the state of disrepair yet popularity of the site was another thing altogether. The stairway that led down to the front desk was littered with bystanders, the main area itself standing room only. The din of voices and commotion was overpowering. Edda pushed her way through the crowd to approach the front desk, and could scarcely hear Roen’s voice as she spoke. Something about ‘not venturing too far,’ and the next time Edda looked over her shoulder, the woman was gone. As the paladin had warned prior, the price on a room was certainly high. Not unaffordable, but enough to make the woman wrinkle her nose in distaste. Surely the state of the room would not be worth the asking price, and as Edda and Khadai made their way to their separate rooms, her prediction was quite right. A thin sheen of dust seemed to cover every piece of furniture in the room, empty bottles and forgotten belongings from the last tenant still strewn about the floor. The bed had not been properly made, giving rise to the question if the sheets were even fresh. At the very least, the fireplace was lit, leaving the room at a comfortable temperature. It was livable – if barely. Edda deposited her belongings before making her way out and locking the door. She knocked once on Khadai’s door and received no answer. The man had presumably left to meet with Roen, and though Edda did not recall where she had said to meet, she set out in the hopes of finding them. Now alone and free to wander, Edda found herself quickly lost in the imposing layout of the city. It was an imposing yet beautiful city, the architecture ancient and intricate – a far cry from the simplicity found in Vylbrand. That such a metropolis lay under constant threat of attack from Dravania seemed too much of a waste, and she found herself staring for quite some time at the decapitated statues and crumbling spires. She meandered aimlessly, the area not over-crowded, and as she stood at a ledge staring out over the Sea of Clouds, the sound of two familiar voices drifted to hear ear. “…I believe I know what you will say. I wish to… be less noticeable in this environment,” said a rumbling voice. “It is impossibly in some ways, but it can be mitigated somewhat.” “Aye, less you stand out the better. Although there is no hiding who you are but,” responded a more familiar voice, even and assured. “I suppose you are not the first Au Ra to arrive here. Perhaps if your appearance looked more… acclimated…”A pause. “Where… is Edda…?” “…I do not know.” The conversation was unmistakable, and Edda turned to look over her shoulder for the source, sweeping her gaze across the large, open square. Khadai’s form stood out like a sore thumb. He stood some fulms away next to Roen, both having their backs turned to her. The paladin pursed her lips. “I see.” She frowned then shrugged. “We can wait here awhile. You are accustomed to other forms of armor?” “In a manner, though the terrain in my land demands mobility over defense. There is a saying…” He frowned, pausing in thought. “I believe it would go, ‘fear the warrior who bears no scars.’ Avoiding wounds altogether is preferable to being wounded and surviving. “…You are equipped with martial training. What manner of defense do you recommend?” He gestured to her armor. “Your armor appears to carry far more metal than is needed, and limits your ability to maneuver in mountainous terrain. Is such heavy defense necessary?” Edda smiled to herself at their civil conversation. To think that the two started out on such a bad note… It was true, what Khadai had said two nights past, that Roen’s training as a fighter would provide some grounds for reconciliation. Still smiling, Edda made her way over to the two, hoping she would quickly come into their periphery view. She kept her head bowed and said nothing so as to not interrupt the two. Roen dipped her head in thought at the Xaela’s question. “This was the armor I was trained in. Even heavier at times. It is one form of defense.” She studied her gauntlets absently. “Many wield weapons that would easily penetrate through lesser armor. Especially Dravanians. And we are not expected to run from them. You would notice that temple knights and dragoons are fairly heavily armored.” She noticed the approaching figure and turned to nod to Edda. Khadai followed her gaze with a creak of his own. “Edda. Have you rested?” She gave the two short nods, then looked at the Au Ra with a curious expression. “Er. Yes.” A strange thing to ask. She had scarcely been gone from his presence for a full twenty minutes – hardly enough time to get any sort of substantial rest. “I request your input to this subject. Without regards to defense, what manner of garment do you recommend I don? I do not wish to be so…” he paused. “Conspicuous. My behavior requires its own correction, but at the moment, physical appearance concerns me.” Roen crossed her arms and glances to the stones for a moment, a small curl to her lips. She said nothing. “Well,” Edda began. “Why not think on what it is you want to wear? Chainmail and armor would certainly help you blend in, but I doubt that is something you are at all interested in.” “I do not understand your query.” He frowned. “Though it is no fault of yours. I have only ever selected garments based on practical function. Prior to this I have not had need to pay heed to aesthetics. “What would be considered socially acceptable?” The Xaela jerked his head towards Roen. “I shall consult the stern woman over matters of defense at a later time. I would like your input.” Edda sighed. “Function over form, in this scenario. Anything that can be purchased here will be socially acceptable to some degree, and if they are not I will be sure to let you know.” The paladin narrowed her eyes and cleared her throat. “Other than blending in… what is your purpose here? Now that you are in Ishgard? Is this not the place both of you sought to reach? Your manner of clothing should reflect what you intend to do.” “She is correct. If you desire something similar to what you wear now in terms of utility, we can work from there.” Khadai looked askance at both women a few times before glancing at Roen to answer her question. “I intend to…” His statement started with confidence that fell off, his expression marred with puzzlement and confusion. “I will learn what I can of this Continent and expand my own understanding of its customs. In the meantime, I will search for information related to my objective.” Another frown. “I intend to… mingle. I believe that is the correct word.” Edda pursed her lips and looked back up to the city, the architecture once more catching her eye. The thought of Khadai attempting to mingle settled into the back of her mind, an unsure expression making its way across her face. “Tied into this is to secure a source of currency with which to conduct trade for essential supplies,” he continued. “I am to… select garb based on the profession I would adopt?” Roen blinked, just staring at the man for a moment. She slowly nodded. “Aye. If you wish to find work here, you would do well to look like you belong here. If you wish to be a sellsword, then wearing native armor would suit you. If you wish to sell things, then a merchant garb.” She did not touch on the ‘mingling’ part of his plan, and she cast Edda a sidelong glance. It seemed she shared a similar reaction, and Edda turned to look at the midline between the two, studying the distant aetheryte as if it were the most interesting thing in the land. A small smile tugged at her lips. “Edda. This function you would have me perform for you as per the terms of our agreement. Would dressing in native armor inhibit this directive you would give me?” Said woman’s gaze drifted to Khadai at the pointed question, her smile fading. “No,” she began simply. “You will need native clothes regardless of my own directives anyway. Naturally, I can provide for you as well, if need be.” “That is unnecessary. I plan on sustaining myself. I do not wish to be a burden.” A small puff of air escaped Edda’s nose in a silent snort. Ridiculous. The man turned back to Roen and continued. “Then I shall consult with you on proper garments. In addition, I was made aware of… devices? That we may use to remain in contact over distances.” Roen watched the noblewoman carefully, her eyes narrowing slightly. She turned back to Khadai at his question. “Ah. Aye. There are linkpearls…” She paused and reached into a belt pouch to retrieve a small pearl, holding it up between her fingers. “They allow you to communicate to other wearers over long distances. There are also… moogles…” A small pause. “Small creatures that deliver written missives and packages to intended recipients.” “I see.” With refreshing clarity, it seemed that he understood the straightforward manner in which the description was delivered and nodded. “We may utilize such things, then.” Another turn to Edda. “And if you are willing… I would still like to learn the written word.” Roen glanced between them, a quirk of the brow betraying her surprise. Edda merely blinked. “That is fine.” The paladin canted her head again, eyeing the noblewoman curiously. “Edda. Do you have contacts here?” “Not me personally, no.” She bit her lip. “I would have to write home for such things. Why? Have you need of any?” She rolled her shoulders. “Nay, I just thought… if you knew any of the other noble houses here, it would make your stay more hospitable. The Forgotten Knight is likely not the lodging you are used to.” There was a small rueful tug to one corner of her lips. “It is very much like Ul’dah. The have and the have-nots. Contacts would go far for you. If you intend to stay for long.” Edda glanced toward the sky, recalling the sorry state of her room. “I am not so desperate,” she began, looking back to Roen. “To need such luxury in a city I scarcely know. What need I have contacts would be only useful for a transfer of funds, and that is all.” She nodded, quite sure of herself. Though the temptation of a cleaner, softer bed was a strong one, she saw little point in folding to the unfamiliarity of such different living so soon. Such an action would scream only weakness. Roen nodded. “Alright then. Since…” She looked back to the Xaela. “…We have no idea how long your stay will be here… I suppose getting you some form of employment would be desirable? And the proper armor or equipment that is necessary?” “…I am capable of hunting for myself for sustenance, if necessary. Though, given the events in the forest, I would like to avoid doing so if at all possible.” The paladin glanced between the two of them once more. “I know of an armorsmith who is rather skilled. Although if you are going to hunt for food…” She pursed her lips. “You would do so outside the gates. It is not quite as… rigid where hunting is concerned. Coerthas is not the Shroud. But while you are at it, trading meat and leather would provide you with ways of earning currency. I was hoping Edda might have more contacts in terms of vendors and merchants here but…” She shrugged. “I can ask around.” “…Hunting is not my specialization. I know it, and certain crafts, out of practicality. I have no yet decided with what purpose I will obtain currency. But in any case you are correct. I will properly outfit myself, first and foremost. “…Edda.” He cleared his throat, almost awkwardly. A gesture unknown to the Xaela. “If you feel you have need to depart… do not hesitate to inform me. I will accompany you. I would not have you remain here for my sake and resent being tied to me out of a sense of obligation.” “Eh?” A rather ungraceful response. “N-no, you do not have you, unless you so wish to… I will pay for your inn room and whatever expenses you may need well in advance to allow you to settle in if that is what concerns you.” He shook his head. “As I said. I will sustain myself. Do not hesitate to make use of me should you require it.” “Hmph!” Edda glared at Khadai and folded her arms. “Surely you do not think you can offer something like that and expect me not to help in the only way I can. Very well, I will take heed of your offer, but in return, you will accept mine.” A brief struggle showed itself on Khadai’s face, though he nodded in acquiescence. “I agree.” Edda relaxed her stance and smiled to herself. A small victory, however crudely won. “Good.” Roen watched their exchange with some measure of curiosity, then cleared her throat. “Well then, armor will be much easier to obtain with ready funds.” “I should have enough for now, unless all of Ishgard sports exorbitant prices,” Edda said. The paladin pursed her lips. “You would be surprised. With the gates open and the merchants flooding in, commerce is…” She paused then shrugged, seemingly content to discard that thought. “I would suggest armor for work and perhaps some common clothing for the times in between.” The blonde nodded. “To start, yes…” Roen glanced to the Xaela then back to Edda. “I know that people are much less fearful of a well dressed person. That is, if you wanted to indulge in some local fashion or what not.” She almost sounded amused. Almost. Edda kept her gaze on Khadai, sizing him up from head to toe. She smiled wryly at Roen’s observation. “That is true. Especially in well-tailored clothes, hm… Though, I will have to see what they offer first.” Roen lowered her gaze slightly, hiding an odd expression that rose. “I will defer to your knowledge in this matter.” The Xaela gave a shrug, though he did tap the horns on the side of his head. “If it is all the same, I would rather they close from the front.” “Er…” Edda stared at the odd request, before her face heated, the memory of frontal exposure momentarily escaping the gaol she had fashioned for it. “What… wh- Fine. That should be fine.” The redhead squinted her eyes, studying those horns. “Perhaps they can work with that.” “I feel out of place without some manner of armour. I would prefer to accomplish that first. Before doing so, however…” He glanced towards the gates. “The terrain around the city. I suspect that regardless of my chosen profession, it will take me outside of the city. I wish to familiarize myself with the terrain before deciding. We have… linkpearls? We may use these to keep in contact?” “Ah.” Roen fingered into her belt pouch again, this time retrieving four pearls. “I did take the liberty of finding a vendor while you were settling in…” She held out her hand, four white pearls nestled within her palm. She frowned oddly at them, as if the action were somehow foreign. Edda took one pearl from Roen, frowned at it, and tucked it away safely. Khadai took one as well, examining it curiously. “Is the operation of it simple?” “I do not always wear mine… and you can have it close by. It makes a noise when someone is trying to contact you.” She placed on in her ear. “You activate it with just a slight pressure.” “…I see.” He raised the pearl to his head, frowning. His horns were rough and scaled, but there was nowhere for him to put the small sphere. “Ah—“ Edda said, realization dawning on her. She looked at Khadai quickly, her expression one of shock and embarrassment. That’s right – he had no ears, at least not ones that would accommodate a linkpearl. “…I do not believe these are constructed with Au Ra in mind.” Roen squinted suddenly. Then blinked. Then her eyes widened. “How do you hear?” She asked rather bluntly. She canted her head, as if trying to get a better look. “I do not understand the question.” She parted her lips then closed them for a moment in thought. She shook her head. “Ah. I just… do not understand much about your kind. I suppose you hear in other ways.” She tapped her ear where she had plugged the pearl. “We would not be able to hear sounds without our ears.” “These horns are used for sensing. I believe only the form is different, not the function.” Edda examined the man closely, before letting out a short sigh. “Well, it should be easy enough to fix, in any case…” Roen squinted again, as if to get a better look at those horns. “Hmm.” A long exhale. “Well then, perhaps a message left with the innkeeper? Or the moogles. I do not think you have a receptacle suitable for a pearl.” “I can make one easily enough, I think,” Edda said, voice quiet. “I believe that if it is to be affixed to the surface, it will provide suitable function,” Khadai said. Edda looked to the ground and shuffled awkwardly. It was not something she enjoyed bringing attention to, and if it were not so important, then it would remain glossed over. Such skills were not meant to be equated to her – not yet. “Oh!” Roen exclaimed, and glanced between them. “Like those… that you are wearing now. Fashion some kind of a… cap or something? You have such skills?” “I believe I can craft something suitable to the purpose, given the time and material.” He paused rather suddenly. “…Ah. That question was not intended for me.” He glanced to Edda. Her face now slightly flushed from embarrassment, Edda motioned to the surface behind her ear. “Just a simple hook and holder made of fine wire should be more than suitable. There should be enough room between his skull and mass of his horns for something light and simple…” “I believe such a thing would be acceptable, if you would be willing,” Khadai said. “Of course…!” A low nod of his head. “I am grateful, then.” The corner of Edda’s lips twisted into a strange expression, and she looked down at the ground, the tips of her ears turning red. “Hmph…” Roen looked between the two of them before exhaling sharply. “Well, I will have my pearl in hand, so if I am needed, I will not be far. I am to stay in the city for the time being.” “Then in the meantime, I will survey the surrounding terrain, as was my original intention,” Khadai said. Roen nodded, her tone remaining businesslike. “I have things to take care of as well.” Khadai returned her nod with one of his own. “We may remain in contact, then.” “Oh,” Edda said quickly, looking up. “Alright, yes. I suppose I will go shopping then…” She had no intention of doing such, however. Better to make herself seem busy and useful, though she no doubt that she could manage to fool either of them. Her worth had already been made quite apparent. The paladin nodded once more to them both, her gaze lingering on Edda. “Edda. If I may have a word…” Her voice dipped, her expression a bit hesitant. Wordlessly, Khadai stepped away towards the gate, taking his leave of the two women. “What is it?” Roen stepped closer when the Xaela was out of hearing range. She handed a crumpled paper over, at which Edda raised an eyebrow. “I found this hanging on the walls by the Forgotten Knight. It is an advertisement… for something in Thanalan.” She cleared her throat. “There have been quite a few littering the walls… and um… well. This one had your picture on it.” Edda uncurled the paper, and looked at it with a stoic face. It was none other than the Bronco Grease ad she had posed in at Spahro’s behest. Were it not for her name plastered haphazardly on it, she did not think she was at all recognizable. “All the way in Ishgard? Strange…” She looked back up at Roen. Strange indeed. Edda sincerely doubted many citizens of Ishgard would find much worth in a cheap tonic produced all the way in Thanalan. “Was there a problem?” “No problem… just… I wanted you to be aware. Or prepared. In case… you are recognized.” She cleared her throat again. Edda chuckled softly, and crumpled the paper up once more. “I do not think that will happen. And if I were to be, then that is fine too. A favor, it was, albeit an unexpected one. Father was quite livid.” She smiled at the memory. Her advertising for an unrelated and sleazy product had been poorly received. The paladin licked her lips, uncertainty in her furrowed brow. “Well, if you are not at unease, then my worries are for naught.” She straightened and nodded once. “Dubious Distributions…” she murmured. “I was not aware you knew Mister Bellveil.” Edda frowned and tapped her chin in thought, the name obviously not ringing an immediate bell. “Mister Bellveil…? Dubious… Ah. Yes, the Duskwight man from Ul’dah? I have made his acquaintance on a handful of occasions, but I would not say I know him. Are you a friend of his?” There was a moment of hesitation before she nodded, her expression softening slightly. “He was… I mean, is. He is a friend, aye.” She shrugged quickly. “I have not seen him in a while. But…” She glanced down at the paper. “I suppose he is doing well.” The blonde paused, her expression relaxing in response to Roen. “I could not say,” she began, her voice soft. “But I think it is safe to assume he is well. I am sure you will be able to see him again soon. It seems your friends have a funny habit of cropping up unexpectedly.” She offered a smile, albeit an awkward one. Roen blinked, giving Edda a look of consternation. A pause followed. “Strange, that.” She diverted her glance towards the gates. She let out another long exhale as she scratched her head. “Anyroad. I should get going.” Edda nodded, depositing the crumpled paper in her pocket. “Alright. I shall do so as well, I suppose.” Roen turned to head up the stairs, before pausing. There was a small tug to the corner of her lips, and her voice was quiet. “I thought it would be worse.” She shook her head. “But it was not as bad as I thought.” She turned without further explaining, making her way toward The Pillars. Edda stopped and stared at the woman’s retreating back, left only to wonder at her words.

Roen Roen Find all posts by this user Visit this user's website A Free Sworn Posts:1,230 Joined:Nov 2013 Character:Roen Deneith Server:Balmung Reputation: 306 Timezone:UTC-8 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #74 09-20-2015, 12:05 PM The dark, imposing silhouette of the Xaela warrior was the last thing that Roen had expected to see when she visited the cemetery. She herself was not sure why she came to this place, an ice covered hill peppered with burial mounds and gravestones, almost forgotten on the northern side of Coerthas Western Highlands. Perhaps she sought the deserted place for its solemn isolation. Not many lived this far from Falcon’s Nest, after all, for the conditions were too harsh. But the deceased still remained here, entombed beneath the frozen earth. After witnessing the Au Ra female left impaled in the wild, her own losses began to weigh upon her mind, and soon the paladin found herself here amongst the dead. Roen had burnt Nero’s body, and she was far from the oceanic coasts of Vylbrand where she had sent his burning remains to float out into the sea. A part of her longed for the view of the horizon where she had last seen the flickering flames die. And there was no where else that the paladin could go to revisit the memories of the those who were lost, except for this abandoned graveyard. With Khadai’s indifferent attitude toward the female Au Ra still fresh on her mind, Roen did not know what to make of his presence here. He stood stock straight--a stance befitting one of martial discipline--his hand straight at his side as he stared at a gravestone. Roen sensed no meditation or melancholy in his pose, so she came to stand a few yalms behind him. “Khadai.” "You have questions," was all he rumbled back without turning. He did not seem startled by her arrival. "I am surprised to find you here." She did not close the distance between them; she did not want to intrude. "I thought you did not care for the dead." "I do not." His attention remained on the headstone in front of him. “But the Western continent's attachment to those who have passed… understanding that attachment is tied to my understanding of its people as a whole." "Do your people not mourn those who have passed on?" “We do." The answer is flat and immediate. "You would not think so if you watched us, though." "No ceremony then?" "No." "But you feel their loss." "We do not feel the need to display it." Roen ascended the small hill to stand a few fulms away, regarding his profile. She still recalled his cold willingness to dismember the body of the impaled woman just to remove her from the stake. It was something she would have never considered. "How do you dispose of the dead then?" "That depends on the circumstances." A passing wind tossed his green streaked ebony locks over his one exposed shoulder, but the Xaela did not seemed bothered by the prospect of frostbite. "If it is an individual, a shallow grave. If it is many, a mass grave." "And if one of your own was found murdered in the wild?" "A shallow grave," he said after a brief pause. "Unless the body is difficult to remove. The Khadai only bury their dead to mask the losses from our enemy. If one passes in camp, they are removed for the health of all. Otherwise, they are disposed of in the manner that is deemed to be the most efficient and least exhaustive. At times, that means the corpses are abandoned in the wild." Only a quick exhale through her nose betrayed her chagrin. "How practical. Are there no sentimentality allowed?" Khadai responded with a sharp glance from the corner of his eye. "You think my people emotionless and cold. Without thought or feeling. A body is merely that. A body. It is a vessel. A dead body is, too, a vessel. One that no longer carries the mind or spirit of the one who inhabited it. One does not mourn spilled water by grieving over the jug." He paused, then corrected himself. "....Should not." “You do seem intolerant of any sentimentality." Her lips tightened. "Everyone grieves differently. Here, in this land, we remember the dead by treating their body with respect. We may burn them or bury them… there are different ways to depart with those whom you have lost." "The dead should not burden the living," the Au Ra spat out. "They warrant no resources, and only as much attention as is required that they do not adversely affect those around them with disease and carrion. The fuel required to burn a body could warm a hundred dwellings for half a moon. It is… wasteful." There was a frown audible in his voice. "This is a land of abundance, without material hardship, if it is to be using its resources in such a manner." His words gave her pause. "Your land must be harsh indeed, if you have to limit yourself from even a batch of firewood or a jug of oil to burn a body." She had assumed from his demeanor that he placed no value in nostalgia, reminiscence, or civilities. But his interaction with Edda, his dedication to uphold his pact with her even if it would interfere or delay his own plans, it at least spoke something about his honor. And now, she was beginning to glean an understanding of how different his life may have been before coming to Eorzea. "I suppose we do spend resources on how we treat the dead." Her mood had calmed, and her tone dipped with melancholy. "Perhaps it is in a way, making up for the loss we feel when they are gone." "By using resources that would be better spent improving the lives of the living?" He cocked his head at her. "Your people have odd priorities. If a body is to be burned, it is for the sake of keeping the environment clean. Otherwise, to dispose of it with fire is as pointless a gesture as dressing the body, or attempting to feed it." "....do your people do that, as well?" he added after a pause. He sounded half mocking and half serious. "Do not mock the culture you do not know." The frown that rose was immediate and her words came quick and clipped. The Xaela turned his head back to the headstone in front of him. "I was told of the Western continent's practices before I arrived. I still understand very little of it. You are a people of contradictions." It was after a long pause that he spoke again. "...I would ask a question." Roen found her ire fading as quickly as it rose. She had not come here to argue of all things. "Ask." Khadai pointed to the faded headstone. Where there once might have been artistic calligraphy engraved into the stone, wind and time had worn away the grooves and cuts into an illegible scrawl. "There was writing there. Do you know what it says?" She scanned the faded markings on the stone and shook her head. "Nay. But it oft holds a message for one who had passed. Along with their name, perhaps the length of their life." "But it says none of that now. It is a simple engraving. It does not wear easily, and when it does it is simple to maintain." He slightly turned, sweeping his arms to the other headstones around them. "These are similar." "If your people possess such respect for the dead, why are none who lay here remembered? Their names lost. Their purposes unfulfilled. To clean the headstone… it is a trivial matter." Roen knew that his words held no fallacy. This place had been forgotten and abandoned to the unmerciful climate. "The headstones, the graves, the burial. They are all symbols of ceremony. It allows for others to surrender to their grief during the process." Her voice quieted. "Then as their sorrow passes... so do the care of the stones, I suppose." Would she forget her own losses in time? Was that not why she had come to Coerthas? To forcibly forget? "When the loss is raw and fresh, we all need..." Roen paused, searching for the right word. "...We all need ways to cope." "Their causes are abandoned. Their ideals forgotten. What made them people are left behind, to litter the past like these stone markers litter this hill." Khadai shook his head. “Life is meant for the living. That is what we believe." His voice remained stern but without reproach. "We do not waste platitudes on the dead. If those who have passed have earned our respect, we carry on their work. Adopt their ideas. The dead care not for material comforts or verbal expression. To waste moments of our lives giving them what they do not want nor need… that is disrespectful." The Au Ra shrugged. "So it goes." "Sometimes it is easier said than done," Roen murmured. "You burn your bodies here. I have seen the cold areas of your city. 'The Brume'. Why is the firewood not distributed there, instead of being used to dispose of a body?" He gave her a sidelong glance. "The effort to bury, why is that not used to reconstruct? To ignore the living for the dead… I do not expect I will ever understand such a sentiment." The paladin felt her chest sink a little. "The Brume needs much. I... I cannot argue that I too would like to see more resources given to those who are in need. I do not know if you have seen The Pillars. The wealth that is bountiful there. There is a disparity in our society that exists despite logic." "I do not understand. Your people possess resources. Wisdom. Knowledge. This much is evident. Triumphs in architecture. Wealth. Abundance. And yet there are those who are lacking. Those who are sick, and lost. Those who are frightened, hopeless." He shook his head. "This is why I call your people… contradictions." He gestured to the headstone again. "You respect the bodies of the dead, but not why they died, or what causes they carried in life. To be such a people of paradox. I cannot fathom such an existence.” Her frown only deepened. "Not all causes are abandoned. They are just..." Roen had to pause, swallowing the tightness she felt in her throat. "To try and bring equality to all, to try and end the suffering of all who are in need... it is... a dream." "There is greed. Avarice. Pride. All these things are also abundant in our society. Those who have comforts do not want to lose them. Those who lack them, are desperate to do anything to take what they can." "Your people are cynical," he observed. "They have lost the reason and drive both to work towards something better." "Someone once said... cynics are disappointed idealists." Her words did not sound like her own. "There are people who try to work for something better. To help whoever they can. Some even resort to radical means to try and achieve those ends." The paladin dipped her head. "I..." She paused. "It... oft does not end well." Khadai did not answer her immediately, he seemed lost in his own thoughts. "You do not trust the civilization you identify with," he said after a long silence. Roen’s head hung her head low, her auburn forelocks falling before her eyes. They swayed when she shook her head. "I tried," she quietly confessed. "I… we... believed that we could change things for the better. I have only ruination and deaths to show for it." Her frown turned into a scowl. "The world does not want to change. Those who know do not care. And those who care do not know." Khadai glanced at her, a rare expression of sympathy on his face. "There is a parable about such a thing." He shifted his stance, eyes strangely thoughtful. "A priest came upon a blind man who stumbled amid a forest. The blind man would trip and fall, and call for help. In time, the blind man would manage to stand, before tripping once more. The priest asked the blind man what had happened to his eyes. The blind man told the priest, he had lost both of them in battle and been abandoned. He was once a peerless hunter, but without his eyes, the world fell from prosperity to ruin. The priest told the blind man, ‘Change it back’. The blind man became angry, believing the priest to be mocking him, for he could not restore his eyes, nor could he force the world to bend for him. The priest said, ‘Change yourself. You are the foundation for your own world.' And the blind man realized how his senses had sharpened. He could hear every step, smell every scent. And so the blind man became a hunter once more." Roen did not immediately reply. Khadai frowned, and added, "The world is what we make of it. If you change, there is no assurance that your world will change with you. But if you do not change, you may be certain that nothing will." Roen blinked and slowly lowered her gaze, looking at nothing in particular. She stayed silent for a long time. "That is a wise parable,” she finally broke the quiet. Khadai’s gaze upon her was steady and intent. "Do not lose faith in your people." The paladin flicked another glance at the Au Ra, clearly surprised. He was studying her face. "You believed in them before. You must do so again." Roen exhaled, her expression slightly softening. "This is the same people you consider contradictory," she said wryly. He shrugged. "No people are perfect. Mine included. We, too, started with our share of contradictions. We have long since worked past such things. It is easy to close one's eyes and believe that somethings can never change. Easy, and fatal." The Xaela paused, his words slowing as if to carefully deliver its intent. "All meaningful actions begin with a sliver of belief. Belief can destroy armies. Belief can shake mountains and drain oceans. Belief..” he pointed towards the spires of Ishgard. “...is what can create monuments that reach the sky." Khadai kneeled down and picked up a stone. He curled his fingers around it. "One stone creates ripples. Those ripples may become a wave. That wave may drive fish. Those fish may feed fishermen. Those fishermen may in turn care for the ocean." Roen had fallen to silence as she listened, her brow furrowed. "You are an idealist, Khadai. I was not aware," she said softly. "People are finite. Mortality is infallible. Death is unstoppable." He glanced back at her. "Only ideas endure time." The paladin nodded slowly, then once more as if to herself. Her voice had notably softened when she spoke again. "For a foreigner... your ideals are not so strange." The corner of his lip curled upward. "Then I am glad to blend in with at least one aspect, if not the others." A rueful curl twisted her own lips. "Do take care. Such ideas only brought me misery and sorrow." Her expression did not darken despite her words. "But know you are not alone in such beliefs." "I will continue my surveyance." He gave her a slight, almost imperceptible dip of his head, and then turned from Roen and strode away into the snowy fields. Tumblr IC Journal and Inspirations Roen Deneith | Nabi Kharlu | Brynnalia Callae

Nero Nero Find all posts by this user Carbide Warrior Posts:910 Joined:Jul 2014 Server:Balmung Reputation: 286 RE: A Vision of Fog【Closed】 | #75 09-23-2015, 09:31 PM Solitude was a simple thing. The veil of night had fallen over the highlands after Kasrjin had departed from the graveyard, and with it came the deadly chill. There was no fanfare of biting wind or howling of a great storm to accompany the demise of warmth; naught remained but a raw, brisk silence. A brilliant tapestry of stars enveloped the heavens above, solemnly gleaming against the night blue sky, poignantly lighting his surroundings in a pale silver light. He adjusted the furs around him, thin eyebrows twitching in surprise at the western continent's surprisingly hostile environment. The glaciers and mountains among which he had occupied with the majority of his life were unforgiving, and the winters were as fearsome a foe as any number of black-armoured intruders. It would seem that this region was not lacking any number of fangs in that regard; he'd abandoned the metal spaulder and unfolded a short, folded shawl, lined in vanilla-coloured fur that matched his tunic. His boots crunched in the snow, punctuated by the cry of wolves splitting the air and the occasional beating of draconian wings. His patrol of the area was an experience of contrasts. More than once he'd buried himself beneath snow or lain flat against rocky outcroppings to avoid the wildlife or an errant patrol of knights. At other times, his march was surrounded by nothing but hills, mountains, and snow, with nothing to threaten him for miles other than his own thoughts. In a way, the latter was far more dangerous to him. With the sky clear, it would be a simple matter for him to return to the settlement; the grey towers of the fortification he had passed through to enter the highlands peaked in a black silhouette against the glittering canvas above him. Thus, the Xaela felt rather confident in exploring as far as he felt the need to, so long as those towers were within his eyesight. Emerald eyes flashed in the darkness, glancing at everything of note and then some. The seclusion was comforting in a way, and heartrending in another. It had been a nigh uncountable number of suns since he'd landed on the western continent, and though the number of people around Kasrjin had increased considerably, his chest still felt the dark grasp of isolation tugging at him. Solitude was a thoughtful thing. His contemplation and his march practically skidded to a halt. He found himself atop a cliff, just visible enough to see the fires of a secluded military camp that was huddled beneath the stony embrace of an imposing escarpment. What startled him was not his location, however, but the sight he was greeted with that had escaped his conscious notice until he was almost right on top of it. It was a heavy wooden stake, a head and a half taller than him in height, the end sharpened to a fearsome point. And upon it lay the lazily-shrouded body of an Au Ra, a ragged length of tarp barely covering the body's torso. The body was a male Xaela, like himself, though from whom or where he had come from was impossible to tell. The body had obviously been discarded for a disconcerting amount of time, for the telltale blue-green tinge of frostbite had long claimed the body in a frozen rigor mortis and various bits of chilled flesh had been picked by what carrion could brave the harsh cold. Splatterings of dry blood could barely be seen crawling down the length of the stake, though they too had frozen in the chill. The Au Ra's horns had been hacked off with some manner of implement, the horns themselves nowhere to be seen, and though his eyes were closed, his mouth and face had stretched in pain. Kasrjin stood stock still at the sight. It was the second of such he'd seen, and though it did not shock him, the message it carried was blatantly aware. He wasn't welcome here. His hand found itself reaching towards the leather-wrapped handle of his sword, but upon grasping it, he stopped. "Do your people not mourn those who have passed on?" His right hand still lay clenched upon the sword handle, but his left reached into a pocket that had idly been sewn into the folds of his tunic. His left hand grasped the smooth, obsidian pebble. The instant he did, a small, slight burst of warmth spread from his arm to the rest of his body. He could feel even through his gloved hands the engraving that Tsanai had carved into it. His hand dropped from the hilt of his sword. Kasrjin's hand pulled a knife from within the folds of wide outer sleeves. The rigid length of tiger tooth that Nayaga had painstakingly formed into a fearsome blade--despite the scout's admitted clumsiness with tools--easily buried itself deep into the brittle length of the wooden stake. The durable tips of Erdeni's immaculate leather gloves that wrapped his hands made short work of the frozen dirt and snow at the base of the stake, loosening the earth's hold on the shaft. "You do seem intolerant of any sentimentality." His hand reached into his tunic again, grasping Tsanai's runestone. Another jolt of energy coursed itself through him. It was weaker than the first, and barely perceptible, like a final weak heartbeat, but it was enough. With the soil loosened, Kasrjin had managed to bend the stake enough for him to stand with one leg on the ground and the other planted firmly against the hilt of the planted knife. With a heave and a grunt, he planted the top of his head and the palm of his hands firmly against the corpse's back. His ever stoic frown across his face, the Xaela grunted and heaved against the frosted cadaver, with each headbutt and shove of his hands the length of dead weight moved off of the shaft. After several attempts of this, Kasrjin moved to the front of the stake where the fearsome point lay aimed almost at his head. Still panting, the brisk night air biting the inside of his lungs, he bent his legs beneath the body and, with a final mighty shove, forced the body off of the stake. The dead Xaela's stiff corpse unceremoniously popped off the stake like a cork, and the tortured pose the body held prevented it from rolling. The combination of the exertion and the cold had robbed Kasrjin of his breath, and he bent with his hands against his knees to recover. As he did, veridian eyes glowed to examine his deceased compatriot. Solitude was a tiresome thing. "The dead should not burden the living." Familiar words. His own. After a few minutes, he set about to work, gloves reaching into the soil and snow both, peppering the body in a blanket of churned dirt. He shouldn't be here. Kasrjin, in an odd display, circled the body, his knees bent and feet shuffling, throwing snow and dirt clumsily with both hands onto the body until an awkwardly conspicuous mound had formed over it. A conveniently adjacent rock served as a headstone. An uncelebrated grave for an equally uncelebrated individual, whose name would forever be lost. He tossed the harness, sword and all, away from him and collapsed next to the grave, thudding next to it in a slouching sit. A snowfall had begun, his only company after such an endeavour. Solitude was a lonesome thing. A hand reached in to touch the runestone again, but it had no more comfort to give. Isolation's dark grip tugged at him again. The stoic frown still lay artificially plastered on his face, and he felt an ache between his chest. A finger lay on the rune stone and traced the engraving. It was complex, but by now he could recall the pattern through muscle memory alone. His right hand tugged at the base of the glove wrapping his left. It was made perfectly to size, as always. Not a seam or scratch in sight, so carefully was the leather treated and stitched. The bone knife still gleamed at him in the dark, the immaculate polish on the piece reflecting the moonlight. With the snow between his fingers, he closed his eyes, his head resting on the palm of his hand. He could almost imagine familiar mountain passes. The sprig of evergreen hemlock that had been woven into the collar of his tunic had lost its scent. He breathed deep, and exhaled. He could feel his chin begin to tremble, and it was not because of the cold. It was a distant memory, that feeling of clarity. Of certainty. A terrified eye shot itself towards the grave next to him. Hacked off horns. Left on a stake. Nameless, and with none to know the cause. Feelings that were a distant memory. The sensation would be forgotten, with time. He shouldn't be here. Solitude was a painful thing. A wolf's howl jolted him from his reverie. Instinct took over. A hand reached for Ersugen's flawless sword, before cognition reminded him that he had tossed it away from him. Impulse commanded his muscles, and he scrambled for his weapon and its harness. The howl came again. His hands frozen in fear. His mind finally acknowledged the sound. It was too far away to be a threat. For several long seconds that felt like years, Kasrjin lay sprawled on the dirt and snow, hand frozen in desperation to reach the length of blued steel. His fingers grasped the leather-wrapped hilt, and pulled it towards him. The Xaela stood up, not a second glance being spared to the slipshod grave he'd left. The harness again affixed to his back, tunic brought in order. Legs locked straight in a martial stance. Stoic expression on his face. He walked over and pulled the knife from the stake, shoving it into its sheath affixed to the inside of his sleeve. He could still see the fortifications in the distance. A deep breath. And he marched again.

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