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

GloryRhodes · **01-07-2016, 03:41 PM**

(This thread is for participants in the Fate-14 storyline "My Brother's Keeper")

McBeefâ„¢ · **01-12-2016, 02:32 PM**

The fire in the inn room roared, though the crackling flames did little to dispel the chill she felt.

Neither did the bottle of Brandy, now laying half empty at her side.

The Inquisition.

She had thought time and events had allowed her to overcome her fears, that her involvement with the Inquisitor Xanadu had somehow cut the chains of fear. She had been wrong.

It had only taken one imperious look from the Inquisitor and his guards to make her feel as a she had been then. Afraid, broken, guilty.

Guiltyâ€¦ guilty of course. The Inquisition never target the innocent you see, Halone guides their vision.

And their knives.

The burgeoning riot in the Brume had been a simple thing, only a few rocks and hard words exchanged, dispelled by the grit of the Dragoon Vâ€™aleera as well as her own Alchemical devices. No the speech and the riot were not as frightening as the aftermath. The fat Inquisitor in his rich robes, pointing a finger at the group.

â€œIâ€™ll have them all.â€

Have.

The bold arrogance of those with power.

If it had not been for the impassioned words of a pair of Miqoâ€™te, she would be in chains now, screaming out heresies real and imagined just to avoid the next kiss of the torturerâ€™s iron. Evangeline shudders as bile rises to her throat, and resists the urge to vomit fine brandy onto the stone floor

Yes, thanks to the pair of well dressed women, the Inquisitors were dissuaded, a sight she doubted she would ever see again. Even Inquisitors had hearts though, and the womenâ€™s words touched theirs, if only for a time.

The naked truth remained, this cultâ€¦ this worship of Drilltooth. It was doing nothing but grow. The question remained, the question that was left unanswered that night. The question that must be answered before soon.

Should she let the cult be, and see Ishgard torn apart from below?

Or assist the Inquisition, and see it torn apart from above?

Evangeline hugs her knees to her chest as the flames crackle. Either way, someone would burn.

Zaheela · **01-13-2016, 02:50 AM**

It took everything within her to not swear out loud in the middle of the street.

Even with all her experience with the merchants of Ul'dah, the ishgardian elite were a wholly different, and almost intolerable, beast. Signing the written agreement with a little more force then necessary, she gave the proper farewells and stormed away. Up numerous steps and foreign doors, she quickly retreated into her rented room, pulling the coat off.

â€œBlasted pig, may his ventures fail!â€ She hissed to the wall, before taking a deep calming breath and flopping back onto the goose feather mattress. Hand idly groping for her pack, Rhea managed to wriggle out her worn journal, flipping it open. Staring at her notes, her frown returned, thumb idly brushing over the dried ink.

â€œShe who is kin to the mad Wyrm Nidhogg, long since slain by the righteous blades. The fallen dragon Ratatoskrâ€¦â€ She recited from memory. Closing her eyes, she remembered the fevered words of the old man. Just what drove him to be soâ€¦ forward with beliefs that even the outsiders knew to be considered blasphemous to the Ishgardian City-state? She wasnâ€™t honestly surprised when the Inquisitor and his guard appeared, but certainly seeing such a man be swayed by dew filled eyes and somewhat unbelievable innocent pleading. That girl certainly had the luck of the twelve, that or the man himself was not worth the Inquisitorâ€™s effort. Whichever it was, Rhea was just glad that it apparently had not spread that she had been within the crowd.

Still, the name worried her. Why talk of elder dragons long since dead? For that matter, why was such beliefs so important that it would be passed on even behind the backs of the Clergy? If what this man was saying were true, then the most logical thing would have been for the Clergy to weave Ratatroskrâ€™s name into their own books. There were too many unanswered questions.

â€œBy the wanderer, why am I even concerned about the rantings of a man who may not be of sound mind?â€ Rhea asked the ceiling. â€˜Because youâ€™re curious.â€™ Her mind answered back. Tail tip thrashing, she growled. â€œYes, well, it could just be a waste of time.â€

â€˜You do realize you are arguing with yourself?â€™

â€œâ€¦..mrgh.â€ Flopping an arm over her eyes, she sighed. No use arguing with herself, sheâ€™d just have to admit to herself. Sheâ€™s curious. Knowledge that was lost or considered â€˜covered up by the churchâ€™ would be a welcome addition to her book horde. Rolling over to her stomach, she sighed. Flipping the journal pages back a few, she stared at her schedule. Groping for a piece of graphite, she crossed out a name and circled another. â€œI suppose a trip to the new settlement in the Hinterlands will need to be pushed up.â€

Leanne · **01-13-2016, 03:34 PM**

The room was almost completely clad in darkness, a single lukewarm light of a nearby candle lending some minimal comfort.

A Zweihander, painted with dried blood, was neatly settled horizontally on the floor.

And before the blade, there was an auri woman, of pale features and ivory hair, sat on both knees. Her eyes were closed. Her respiration was low and deep. Body almost inert and motionless.

Meditation was her purpose. To achieve inner peace. Despite the interlocutor that always dared to interrupt her introspection. Orbiting around the sword and the xaela, this shadow, of mirrored attributes and a glinting, unsettling grin observed her. Hounded her. Taunted her. Clamored for her.

"You should slay all of them."

"..."

"Inquisitors and knights. Fair and just, they call themselves. You and I, know better than to heed to such fallacies."

"..."

"They tarnish the true meaning of what is to be a knight with their mere existence. They claim their work is for the sake of justice, yet the only justice they seek is their selfish own."

"..."

The darkness stops between Alexia and the zweihander. Kneels in front of her. Stares intently at her. A chilling hand is brought, gently cradling the chin of the meditating one. Alexia remained silent. The shadow insisted with seductive, venom-laced syllables.

"We must show them what means to be one of the chivalry. We must show them the justice dealt by them on the unfortunate and the innocent. To those who couldn't defend themselves. To those they unjustly called heretics."

"..."

"Take the head of the one called Xanadu Mol. Rob the life of the one named Martiallais Heuloix. Cast away from the skies the dragoon. Show the four inquisitors a taste of their own wretched remedy. The souls of those lost claim for their lives. They claim for justice. True justice."

"Be gone." Alexia finally demanded, opening her eyes with a deriding glare towards the dark. "Thou were not called. Thy words are made only of poison. Thy opinion is not of importance. And thou shant ever be. So do not tarry any longer. Vanish in this exact instant. For thou art not to find any lending ears from me."

Her words were enough. Like blessed chants of a priest, they exorcised the shadow of her thoughts, sending it back to the darkness it came from. Breathing deeply, her eyes returned to close. Peace. Inner peace. A temporary relief. But a relief, nonetheless.

"I shall deliver them justice, but only if they give me the proper reason to do so. A watchful eye shall be more than enough. Until the time to draw my blade."

The candle's light is then gutted.

Zelmanov · **01-13-2016, 05:26 PM**

Ishgard's fire blasted stone and scorched alabaster would be greeted with the rare glimpse of the Eorzean sun that day. A page boy brushes past the dispersing crowd in Saint Valeroyantâ€™s forum clutching onto a scroll case sealed with the emblem of a baying wolf. The boy slips pushes past the doors of the congregation, out of the deceivingly cold weather and into the nearly stuffy yet altogether luxurious warmth of the barracks of the Knightâ€™s Templar and Dragoons. The page presents the scroll case to the guard at the door to Ser Aymericâ€™s station and is bid to depart, leaving the man on duty to open the heavy double doors and deliver the missive to the ever-busy head of state.

When the seal is eventually broken, this is what would beread
Â
Lord CommanderAymeric,

It is perhaps with heavy heart I regret to inform you that the initial scouting of Mericydia has bared little in terms of the possible whereabouts of Nidhogg and his brood. The isle, at least whereupon we landed, is barren of dragons. Not much remains with the exception of aggressive, voracious, local flora and fauna that impeded progress further inland. If any of the Mericydian kin remain they have yet to reveal themselves, perhaps rightfully so in light of the Allagan razing in years past. Casualties and sickness that occurred while attempting to forge a path inland drained resources much quicker than expected. As such we had resolved to leave markers and make clearings for when Ishgard can truly dedicate itself to uncovering the mysteries of the southern isle in less trying and urgent times.

While the bulk of the forces are returning, I have elected to remain behind in Limsa Lominsa in light of unsettling news. I understand as much as you that now as a member of the Alliance we cannot do as we please any longer and hope to maintain amiable ties to our sister cities. As such I am accompanying Inquisitor Frimont and his group in hunt for the supposedly rogue inquisitor Xanadu Mol.Â

According to the intel gathered there seems to be unholy experiments involving dragonkin and void magicks afoot and I am compelled to remain until the possibility of a draconic threat, be it of Nighoggâ€™s machinations or of the former Holy Seeâ€™s is removed. I pray the hunt for Inquisitor Mol is something you are aware of and that the clergy is not running amok, further putting strain upon the tenuous relation with our allies and the sympathetic dragonkin alike. Until more has come to light, I shall follow them.
Â
I await your orders,

~Orrin de Halgren

Zaheela · **01-15-2016, 04:06 AM**

All that could be heard from her office was the ticking of the clock and the scrape of pen tip against paper. Rhea frowned as she continued to write down the formal request for aid, only to go back and cross out certain parts. More minutes passed before she realized she realized she had reached the end of the page and had nothing really usable on the page. With a quiet snarl of rage, she crumpled up the paper and threw it towards the fireplace. Her handmaid looked up from her sweeping up the carpet with old tea leaves, before scooting the paper into the fireplace to burn. The acrid smell of burning ink and parchment filled the room and Rhea sighed.

â€œShall I put on another pot of tea Mistress?â€ The young Dunesfolk asked, though she had already begun to prepare the tea as if knowing the answer. Rhea only nodded before sighing and pulling out another piece of paper. Holding her pen above the paper, she glowered. Asking for help into a possibly dangerous situation wasnâ€™t the hard part; all she needed to do was mention riches and sheâ€™d have a group more or less. The problem was how much of the truth could she reveal?

The great Gubal Library was rumored to hold thousands upon thousands of books on every topic imaginable. From exotic recipes to the forbidden arts, scholars around the world would flock to their halls. Hell, she knew from sources that books which could trigger horrible wars could be within those same halls, which was exactly what she was looking for. Standing up suddenly, she turned to the crate of books beside her desk. Pulling out the gem of the collection and the reason she needed to rush the crate out of Ishgardian lands, she carefully pried open the Histories of Dragynkin.

While the contents were less a historical textbook and more of the breakdown of dragons, their subclassifications, and notable dragonkin, it did contain more information on the great wyrms and their sire then all of her books combined. Turning to the bookmarked page, she traced the sketch of Ratotoskr, rearing up on hind legs and ready to breathe down fire upon the knights in the picture. Under the picture were ominous words â€œShe whose cry summoned upon us all Destruction.â€ While the book didnâ€™t go much into detail about her early life, it was known to the author that she had died before the start of the Ishgardian Holy war against the Dragons, but as to who had killed her or why they had killed her was lost. Mostly because there was a page ripped clean out of the book. Whatever the page revealed was now lost to her, but at least it was a start. At least with the book in her hands, she could assume a few things.

One was that the books obviously existed on the topic, though they were either from 3rd parties or from previous eras. Secondly that the Inquisition was NOT aware of their existence. If they did, then she wouldnâ€™t be holding the histories to begin with. Third, she would need to get to these books as fast as possible, since now that the doors were open, it was very likely that the Inquisition, or at least the more radical parts, would come in to set the books ablaze. Settling back down into her seat, she flipped through the pages, eyes skimming the names of the other elder dragons and their sire.

â€œWhat have I gotten myself into?â€ Rhea asked the clock as her maid returned with a teapot and an apple tart. The tiny Lalafell scrambled up the step stool, laying down the tray within armâ€™s reach and preparing a cup of tea for her. Exhaling, Rhea put the book aside and picked up her pen. Staring at the parchment, she wondered before putting pen to paper.

Wanted: Adventurers to aid in expedition. Experienced fighters only.
Location: Hinterlands
Rewards: XXXXX gil & spoils (OOC: Im not sure of how much to put here)
Expected duration of expedition: X days travel, X day within location, airship travel will be provided.
More Information will be made available upon signing of confidentiality contract.
Requester: Merchant Rhea Zaheela
References appreciated but not required
...Prettycats preferred.....

McBeefâ„¢ · **01-18-2016, 06:41 PM**

The sealed document arrives by courier to the Inquisitor's desk, marked by several wax seals (of some strange symbol containing a book and a grenade no less) and stamped in bright red ink:

FOR THE EYES OF INQUISITOR VIDOCQ ONLYÂ

Quote:
-CONFIDENTIAL-

To the Concern of Inquisitor Vidocq,

The fact that myself and my colleagues have taken interest in both the Ratotoskr Cults, and the fate of Inquisitor Mol is not coincidence. I at least, believe the two situations are linked, which is why I am willing to assist you in one, and beg your aid in the other. I am heretic, and you Inquisitor yes, but I can only hope you view yourself as a servant of Ishgardâ€™s people, not of blind faith.

What I know so far is that Ratotoskr is sister to Nidhogg, slain at the founding of the city. According to the Cult, it was the Drakeâ€™s sacrifice that gave the twelve power to defeat Nidhogg, and itâ€™s remnants that gave rise to the blood curse that follows us still. They call out for the defeat of Nidhogg, with the aid from Ratotoskr, also known as Drilltooth.

These cults seem dangerous for two reasons, one, their stance that members should take â€˜Ratotoskrâ€™s giftâ€™ and drink draconic blood ( an act I have seen myself leads to things with the features of dragons, but almost always lacking the intelligence ). The second, is that they cause tensions with the already shaken townspeople, causing new divides before the old have healed. I have yet to discover any locus of worship for the cult, though I have been told I should be able to â€˜hearâ€™ it, based on my handling of Draconic artifacts in the past (such as Wyrmtears). I so far have not had luck as such.

I do not think a harsh hand will help you in this matter, and too aggressively destroying this Cult could turn them from a nuisance to a threat. Cornered dogs bite.

As for why I believe this cult is linked with Inquisitor Mol, that might require a slight explanation. Inquisitor Molâ€™s pursuit of Ivarault Friont is based on on the premise that Inquisitor Friont is trying to do something very dangerous. Something that could endanger all of Eorzea. There is some evidence that Friont is researching the methods of mating a Voidsent with the corpse of a drake. As you might know, Voidsent often inhabit the bodies of the dead, and larger and more powerful beings attract larger and more powerful voidsent in death. Friont seems to have been researching how to forcibly inject a voidsent into a draconic corpse, creating a being more powerful than each were in life. It is my /personal/ conjecture that the body of Ratotoskr, henceforth undiscovered, is the target she wishes to reanimate. I have no proof other than what I have seen with my own eyes, and the perhaps questionable words of Inqusitor Mol, however I felt that you should know the entire situation.

As much as I dislike your order, someone must have the knowledge in case we are to perish. Do of if what you will, I have faith that whatever decision you make will be more politically sensible than Molâ€™s. Whether she is wrong or right, she damns herself before she begins by failing to play the game. I can tell only after a few meetings you are not a man to make a similar mistake.

Iâ€™ve attached what documents I have, write me if you require clarifications. I await eagerly any information you might have regarding Mol and the cult. It is a new Era Inquisitor, Iâ€™m hoping we can overcome old hatreds.

Sincerely
Evangeline Primrose

-CONFIDENTIAL -

A second, near Identical letter would find itself secretly upon the desk of SerÂ Martiallais Heuloix through ways unknown.Â

Leanne · **01-27-2016, 11:18 PM**

"...Again. Yet one more person manages to open this dumb door. Why do we keep this closed again? Does it even matter if I close it again? Time will come, and yet another person will manage to pry this thing open. Ah wah. Does not matter..." A girl grumbles in frustration.
Â
Dravanian Hinterlands, former home to the Scholars of Sharlayan. And the backdrop to the biggest reservoir of knowledge within Eorzea, the Great Gubal Library. With doors closing behind her, stomping into its halls, this girl, of short and fiery hair, golden eyes, and fancy hat peered along the several corridors and pathways presented to her, mentioned eyes narrowing in pursuit of any trap, monster, or worse, corpse now infesting this maze that is called a library.
Â
"People, treating this place like it is their personal library..." she huffs, producing an incomplete map out of a bag for guidance. â€œNot that I'm all that different, I guess. Which direction I shall go this sun..." she mumbles to oneself, briefly forgetting that possibly there is more than one intruder within the ivory building. Her reverie is finally broken only after flicking ears captured a trace of sound. Coming her direction, of all things! She didn't take more than a second to squeeze herself behind the nearest bookcase, shortly before a patrol of magicked creatures meandered along the path she was. Pressed against the furniture, she utters not a single word, nor produce a single sound. She just waits. And makes her prayers.
Â
Thump, thump, thump, thump...
Â
The patrol slowly disappears along the infinity of the library's structure. With a laborious sigh of relief, and pulling herself out of the extemporaneous hideaway, Leanne looks along the path where the magic-bound monsters vanished into. With a daring glower, she pulls an arrow from the quiver, readying herself and her bow.
Â
"Whoever made their way in...? I wish them luck. Pray they don't cause any trouble though." she whispers to her lonesome, before making her way in, deeper into the darkness.

Reppu · **01-28-2016, 10:23 PM**

To the Order of Nald'thal,

As a witness to your recent expedition to the Nymian Ruins floating outside of La Noscea's outer reaches, I express my humblest apologies and sincerest sympathies. Unfortunately, despite my personal efforts of aetherial aid, the loss of number and well-being of your up-and-coming thaumaturges could not be prevented.

I would like to express apologies on behalf of the Arcanist Guild of Limsa Lominsa as well, and with my letter is also provided a sizable crate of potent Ethers for your league to use as they see fit.

My letter comes with information as well; the individual responsible for the loss of life amongst your order is an Ishgardian Dragoon known as 'V'aleera'. Within this letter is also a portrait recreated by our best criminal investigators for your use.

I pray this incident does not cause too much grief between our individual guilds, and I would be happy to personally meet with any of your representatives to see this wrong, made right. Together, we can bring this villain to justice.

- Hijiri no Reppu, Maelstrom Officer

(The portrait is not very flattering)

____________________________________

To Ser Aymeric of the Holy See of Ishgard

This letter is written on behalf of Storm Commander R'ashaht Rhiki, and the Maelstrom Escort Expedition to Nymian Ruins on request of the Holy See of the Ishgard's Inquisitors.

To use as few words as possible, we would like to request your approval of a group of four Inquisitors chasing one 'Xanadu Mol'. The request is to know the names of the four individuals deployed into Maelstrom Territory and what their primary and secondary objectives are.

These were the names given to us by them, and we would like to know if these are not only accurate, by sanctioned by your own seal;

Helene La Floret, Frimont Forrlaine, Dammerung and Frienne Crusoe.

I would also appreciate being given any information on a Dragoon known as 'V'aleera', due to possible future criminal charges, and to absolve Ishgard of responsibility if at all possible.

Thank you for your cooperation, and may the Alliance prosper with the inclusion of Ishgard.

- Hijiri no Reppu, Maelstrom Officer

____________________________________

With a sigh, Reppu seals the letters and has them sent out, her eyes closing. She leans back in her chair, her fingers drumming on her desk in a fit of annoyance.

"... I can forgive the Inquisitors being crude and Heil Ishgard. But this V'aleera woman... I will see her drawn and quartered by chocobos."

Martiallais · **02-09-2016, 03:04 AM**

With most of his preparations for the journey to Amdapoor done, Martiallais signed, sitting down at the desk provided with his room to see the last item on his lengthy to do list completed. Only then would he settle in and rest for the eve.

Madam Inquisitor Floret,

While I am told your duties oft keep you busy and far from the comforts of our home, I pray that this message reaches you on pleasant winds and the Fury herself's good tidings. I was instructed to contact you by one of your colleagues, Inquisitor Vidocq, due to the potential connection between the matters both you and he currently investigate. I speak, of course, of the matters regarding one former Inquisitor Xanadu Mol, the current search for her whereabouts and her intentions.

I, myself, am but a knight in service to our home and the Fury. My involvement in this is due largely to my prior work with former Inquisitor Mol during a matter some moons ago which saw the return of Ishgardian steel, once believed to be lost and then stolen, to it's proper home in the hands of our own Temple Knights. I have attached my personal report regarding that incident as well. In the suns following that, I have encountered former Inquisitor Mol on multiple occasions, both professional and personal. She is...certainly eccentric and records surely show that I, skeptical as I was of her position, sought to verify it personally.

However, despite...or rather because of, my past dealings with her, I would wish to be of aid to you if at all possible. It is a knight's duty to serve, after all. And if mine knowledge or mine shield can be used to prevent harm from coming to the people of Ishgard or those beyond our borders, then I would gladly offer it.

I am well aware of your skill with the bow and the favor you have among our people. I have no doubt that this will be yet another feather in your cap as your aim is guided by the Fury herself. But if there is aught I can do, mayhaps we could meet to discuss what we know in the near future. Given that you are known to be both efficient and effective, for ease I can certainly arrange to rendezvous with you in the field.

Yours in Duty, Honor, and Faith,
-Ser Martiallais Heuloix

Martiallais · **02-15-2016, 09:18 PM**

Exhaling heavily, Martiallais Heuloix handed over the sealed letter and offered more than a few coins to the barkeep in the Forgotten Knight. He knew that, when she was within Ishgard's walls, it was far more likely that the recipient he sought would be here rather than what remained of her family's home. For once, the knight wasn't dressed as such, instead seeming far closer to his common blood than when clad in armor for Ishgard's defense.

- - - - -

Lady Primrose,

You will have to forgive the lengthy silence and short missive. Rest and recovery following the trip to Amdapor Keep was, unfortunately, in short supply. Within some suns time, I met with Inquisitor La Floret and simply put the matters which arose from that gathering are those best discussed within short order. In person.

If there were aught else needed to tempt you, know that I procured an Amdapoori text. While I am uncertain if you are able to read it, mayhaps it can be of some use considering the other ongoing investigation. The images depicted within this volume, at the least, are those familiar to many Ishgardians. I can discuss what I recall of the others when next we see one another.

Much and more is afoot, Evangeline. I urge you to tread carefully, just as you requested the same of myself. I shall surely hold you to your word, at the very least.

Yours in Duty, Honor, and Faith,
-Ser Martiallais Heuloix

McBeefâ„¢ · **02-16-2016, 05:17 PM**

Carried by the mystical and strange hands of Moogles, this letter somehow finds itself carried towards the person of one Inquisitor Xanado Mol.

Quote:Xanadu,

We must needs speak. If anyone knows what it feels like to be hunted, to pursue an unpopular purpose, it is I. The words you have spoken to myself and those who called you companion and friend, I know not which were truth and which were lies. However I do know that I am willing to listen, and to support your aims if I find them just, regardless of what the Inquisition or even common morals think of them.Â

Pray, do not travel on this path alone, a mind with none to argue with but itself is quick to become lost. I have learned that lesson the hard way. Regardless of what you tell me, I swear that I will not use the information against you.Â

Please trust with the truth, those who have trusted you.Â

In Confidence,Â
Evangeline

Zelmanov · **03-02-2016, 04:34 AM**

Friont tilts his head as Orrin lands, the cold air of the Sea of Clouds gusting about between them. Orrinâ€™s gaze hidden behind the four unblinking red eyes of his helm. Orrin doesnâ€™t even let the supposedly dead inquisitor speak before he is at full charge, spear low with what seemed to be with murderous intent.Â

Friont is unmoved, only opening his hand to reveal a simple gil coin. Â "You're as tenacious as your father, I'll give you that." Â He flicks the coin into the air, sending it spinning. Â Aether gathers around it for just a moment, then it shoots straight at Orrinâ€™s heart like a golden laser beam.

Suddenly, breathlessness, everything felt so heavy, his spear veers off course, his hurried strides into battle become pained staggered stumbles, his vision, going dark. Â Anstarra, Nihka, Evangeline, Martiallais, all could see from that one far off island the profile of the Dragoon collapsing mere fulms away from the inquisitor with the golden gil, the beam of light that shot it dissipating into the fog.Â

â€œTell Milette I said hello."

---

Silence. Darkness. Numbness.Â

â€œThat was the Goddessâ€™ last for you, Lover.â€ A painfully familiar voice crooned â€œEven the endless have their limits in patience, but I am still here for you.â€ Her words ended with a purr â€œShe was no good for you anyway, she never cared for you like I did.â€Â

The rustling of chains. Twilight. Biting cold.

â€œRemember who kept you warm those cold winter years? Even long after I died.â€ There was a cruel, amused savoring of those final two words.Â

A cry of pain. A flash of Crimson. Warmth.

â€œEvery time you fought, you felt me with you.â€ A laugh â€œAnd you would seek every opportunity to do so, to feel my touch.â€ There is a retired sigh.

More rustling. A growing, fiery light in the distance. Sweltering heat.

â€œBut Lover you always kept me at an armâ€™s length away, no matter how dire, how desperately you needed me. Why do this to yourself? I am here. You need only embrace me. Iâ€™ll protect you like I always have.â€

Roaring. Light. Hellfire

â€œThat is right, Iâ€™ll be here. Always, even when no one else will have you.â€ There is a pause â€œI will not let anyone else have you.â€Â

Â â€œI am so glad I can finally hold you.â€

And with that Orrinâ€™s eyes opened, gasping and coughing, he had the taste of a potion on the back of his tongue.

Martiallais · **03-02-2016, 02:59 PM**

"You are to avoid all contact with Xanadu Mol. If your 'honor' dictates that you disobey me, Ser Heuloix, you will be seen as her accomplice and treated as such. We are done discussing this matter."

Inquisitor Helene La Floret's calmly stated order echoed in Martiallais' mind as he groaned, slowly moving about as the first shards of light began to brighten the office. With his gaze drawn to the familiar bell adorning the Dufresne house sigil, the knight's eyes turned downward as he let out a slow breath. Shifting carefully on the oversized couch, he eased from beneath the familiar arm, brushing some crimson hair from her face as he sat up.

With bandages around both arms and despite the protest of his body, he rose to his feet and stretched gingerly. He was all too grateful for potions and a gentle, healing touch but he knew well that he needed to settle and focus his thoughts...if such a thing were possible now, since a full measure rest certainly did not seem to be.Â

"The appearance of Inquisitor Friont provided answers and even more questions. Since the beginning, we have been in pursuit of shadows and phantoms."

Qarn. Nym. Amdapor. Each instance there had been proof that someone had been steps ahead of their goal. Missing tomes, evidence of spellwork, the corpse of a wyvern infused with a creature of the void....even void beings themselves all awaited in the place of their quarry.

"And yet he was certainly alive and well, despite Inquisitor La Floret's claims that death had claimed him weeks prior. Even Ser Halgren stated to have been in attendance for the man's cremation."

A frown settled on his features as he thought of the dragoon. While they'd only met, in brief, previously, Martiallais knew little of the hyur. Rumors of reputation were not something he oft gave weight to but his single minded focus on fighting, even alone, had nearly been the end of him. It reminded him of V'aleera, in a way that was unflattering to neither, unfortunately.

"Still, he was certainly skilled. Friont's skills were not....overstated to say the least."

Briefly, the image of fiery rocks raining down above the group flashed in his mind. That they'd managed to survive was in itself something of a miracle. They had been informed that he was a quite skilled mage, among other things. Turning slowly at the waist, he let out a soft breath.

"That Friont has...accomplished a measure of his clearly heretical goals is true. The...infused dragon was evidence to that. With it most certainly under his control, it will surely need to be dealt with. Mayhaps loosing both Sers Halgren and Lhuil's spears upon it would be for the best. With a dragoon of his own aiding him, the question of how far and wide Friont's aid runs is...unavoidable. Are La Floret and her fellow inquisitors part of his deception or victims? More questions, fewer answers. And even now, we remain trapped within this web doing the bidding of one inquisitor while tempting the ire of another. Xanadu Mol was correct, validated even but her actions likewise confirmed La Floret's impression of her. Attempting to kill an innocent in order to prevent a potential larger threat from taking form..."

Low, sleep filled mumblings from the couch brought Martiallais from his thoughts, turning his attention Eliane. His features softened before turning sad.

"Mayhaps I should depart. Bringing the inquisition's eye upon myself is one matter but upon those whom I consider family and friends, such would be unforgivable."

A flash of emerald reflected from atop the desk caught his eye and after another moment, he padded over to seek out the source, amused by the piles of papers, partly configured items, and the occasional frilly, feathered quill existing together in some sort of chaotic harmony. Leaning over, he found himself peering at a small, crystalline shard attached to a necklace.

"How unfortunate then, Ser Mar, that so many care so much for one who cares naught for himself."

As usual, Evangeline had a way with her words when she truly meant to. Gently lifting the Nymean crystal, he found himself staring at his reflection, warped and distorted upon each of the varying surfaces. Despite his thoughts, the knight found himself wearing a smile at the irony of it all.

"Disobeying inquisitors, heeding heretics, even venturing to a cultist gathering for the Inquisition. Truly change has swept over myself as it does this land."

Lowering the necklace back to the desk, Martiallais shook his head, sweeping hair back over his shoulders as he made his way back to the couch. Easing himself onto the cushions carefully, he grunted as he found himself being used as an impromptu pillow.

"If this is the calm before the storm, I cannot help but wonder what the tempest itself will bring."

Zelmanov · **03-02-2016, 04:53 PM**

A wax-sealed letter would find its way to the tribunal, addressed to the high council.

Â
To the charges brought against Inquisitor Xanadu Mol for the murder of Inquisitor Friont, I, Orrin de Halgren, bannerman of House Fortemps, Dragoon of Ishgard hereby testify forthwith. My words are my own and without any coercion, my beliefs true and solely in interest to proper justice be meted out.

Inquisitor Xanadu Mol has stated time and again to be hunting Inquisitor Friont, which of course should be taken as madness to all who have attended his cremation. However, In the Sea of Clouds, north of Okâ€™ Zundu, I have come to witness a man with which my own eyes and ears is indistinguishable from the supposedly late Inquisitor. Furthermore, Inquisitor Mol was there, in direct opposition to Inquisitor Friontâ€™s goals. I have my damaged armor, and opened wounds to corroborate the violent exchange. Even if the aforementioned was in fact a very well put together glamor that mimicked not only appearance but speech and knowledge as well, hunting down a copy does not seem the motive of a murderer of the original. Inquisitor Friont is alive and by extension Xanadu Mol cannot be responsible for his murder.

With my testimony concluded I wish to plead that while I cannot speak on the other, coinciding crimes heaped upon Inquisitor Mol, let it be known that her path has brought her upon the discovery of void magicks mixed with Dragon-kind. Far reaching, evil, unholy rituals that have been discovered from the Floating City of Nym to the Dravanian Forelands with which we border with. This is a threat that risks to consume man and dragonkind alike and I am certain that detaining or executing her runs risks of letting a larger, more catastrophic calamity to come about. If we are to atone for our sins brought about by our forefathers we must quell this most heinous and immoral act perpetrated by what may be Inquisitor Friont himself.

May the Righteousness of The Fury guide you down the correct path,

Orrin de Halgren

A more perfunctory note would find way to The Congregation of our Knights Most Heavenly

To the Lord Commander,

As per my previous experiences with the void, I, Orrin de Halgren upon my own impetus have responded to the call of the dragons of Anyx Trine. Despite some initial resistance my aid was received and with it confirmed the discovery of the blight. Indeed the dragons were afflicted with something that could reanimate the corpses of dragons long after their heads were severed, their bellies slashed and wings plucked. The infected were routed and the infection cleansed. However and in corroboration with a thaumaturge, the source was voidal in nature, much akin to the experiences I had in previous reports.

Be wary of dark magicks afoot, all Dragoons sent on investigation ofâ€¦abnormal dragon activity must be made cautious and wary.Â

In the meanwhile, I shall investigate further as to the source.

Fury guide you,

Orrin de Halgren

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