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

The soft mottled light that filtered in through the Carline Canopy cast a glow about the room. The Canopy was always bustling, full of Adders or Godsbow or Wailers or even adventurers. Information was exchanged readily over drink and foods, and no one thought twice about their voices carrying through the room filled with bubbling energy.

“Crazy Miqo’tes.” A Wildwood Wailer shifted in his seat and lifted a heavy mug of mead to his lips to drink deep. A Godsbow woman whom seemed his companion paused in her drinking and gazed over to the Wailer, quirking a delicate brow.

“What did they do now?” She questioned, amused at the man’s tone. The Wailer set his mug back down and frowned, wiping his arm across his lips to clean off the wetness the ale left.

“They’re just taking in anyone at that damned house! Thieves, poachers, just… just anyone! Do you know how much trouble it is keeping that stupid Free Company from burning the damn forest down!?” The Wailer complained loudly, raising a hand up to exaggerate his point with sharp movements. The Godsbow woman laughed heartily, leaning forward at the table in her overly exuberant laughter. “What!? Do you think this is a joke!? I’m not kidding! Mariel stop laughing at me!” The man whined, frowning his brow and leaning forward across the table to flick at his companion's head.

Across the room’s boisterous noise, the elezen named Mother Miounne gave a small knowing smile and an ever smaller chuckle. Upon any question of the Miqo’tes about to burn down the Lavender Beds, she could only chuckle once more and write down an address.

“They’re a nice group of people. A small little Keeper clan, but they seem to accept anyone into their family. If you’re looking for a new beginning and a family, they might be a good place to check out.” Miounne would offer with an ever-present smile and a small slip of paper passed across the counter. “They’re a registered Free Company too. They do work for us in the Shroud a lot. Might have a job or be able to train you for a job.”

The sound of steel upon cobblestone rang clear and true through the courtyard as a small trio of armored knights made their way to the tavern. The Forgotten Knight was the premiere place of drink for any Knight off duty, and with the recent turmoil within Ishgard, a hot drink was much needed for anyone. The trio found their seats towards the back of the small establishment, sighing heavily as they removed their helmets.

“I hate patrolling. There’s no glory in patrolling the Pillars.” The one elezen male grumbled, rubbing a gloved hand over his temple. His female hyur counterpart across the table raised a brow to him and turned her drinks over in her hands.

“No glory in slaying Dragons anymore either. There’s no glory in Ishgard at all.” She huffed slightly, the mood of the trio dropping to an all time low as silence fell on the table. The last female knight removed her helmet and coughed to gather their attentions.

“Uh, well, did you hear about that little noble who married a cat?” All three paused and the gaze of almost the entire room looked to the elzen woman. She blinked and blushed, waving her hands to try and dismiss her own words. “N-not an actual cat! A uh… miqo’te! Some Moon Cat from the Shroud I think it was?” She coughed once more and quickly pulled her drink up to her lips to shut herself up with it. The hyur woman scoffed and took her own drink, the male elezen thinking it over for a few minutes.

“And the Nobles actually let him do it? I thought they looked down on that or something... “ He questioned, looking back to the other elezen. The woman set down her mug and let out a small nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, they do, but I suppose with the way things have been recently it doesn’t matter much? From what I hear, she’s like a wild savage. Very beast like. I think she was from something called a Shroudwolf?” The female tapped her lips, thinking over the details of whatever knowledge she seemed to have carefully. The hyur woman chuckled at both of them and shook her head, leaning back in her chair.

“Do you mean that Keeper Clan in Gridania’s Lavender Beds? I’ve seen a few things about it when I visited Gridania. It was the Lord’s younger brother from the D’Argent House who sent us over there to keep an eye on them when that woman of his was in trouble. They’re just a bunch of miqo’te that take in strays. If you ever want to run away from Ishgard because your gossip gets the better of you, they’d probably help you out.” The Hyur snorted, giving a somewhat devious glare to her elezen friend. The elezen woman blushed heartily and quickly shoved her face back into her drink before she embarrassed herself again.

The Quicksand was ever the bustling place for food and drink and business deals of all flavors of legality. It was named the Quicksand for a reason, after all. But upon this night a particular lalafellen merchant sat, fuming less than quietly into his drink. A miqo’te, curvy and lithe with only enough dress to hide the essential bits, shifted her way across the room to him, her fingers running across his shoulders.

“What’s wrong my little lion?” The woman cooed softly into his ear, her tail flicking around to gently brush across his fingers. “You’re looking so sad today…” She gave a mock frown to him, her ears falling lightly as if to try and play off like she were actually empathetic to him. “It’s enough to bring even me down. Why don’t you tell me all about it, hmm?” The miqo’te purred deeply in her throat, coaxing the lalafell to turn his head, looking to the woman. His head fell quickly into her hands and the man let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head against her warm fingertips.

“It’s horrible, just horrible.” He huffed, the anger draining out of him with the miqo’te’s expert touch. He looked up to her, reaching his hand out and touching her cheek. “My business partner was supposed to have a massive delivery for me today, but his caravan was ransacked by a bunch of raving miqo’te!” The miqo’te woman frowned, narrowing her gaze to him. “Er, not that you’re all like that. Not you my lovely little peach blossom.” He put on his best charming smile and the miqo’te woman perked up her ears, her face easing from the annoyance.

“Raving miqo’te, that sounds really hard dearest. Maybe poachers then? Or a cult?” The woman suggested, shifting to pick up the lalafell and sit down on his seat, settling him in her lap. The lalafell did not fight against her, perhaps too drunk to do so. He heave a heavy sigh and buried his head into her chest.

“Some crazy Keeper Clan or something. Something about wolves or something! The nerve of them… The Adders aren’t doing anything about it either. Said that their investigation turned out that it was some crazy beast lurking about in the South Shroud. Ridiculous… my partner has never been wrong before, it must have been those crazy miqo’tes!” He paused again, lifting his head and looking to the miqo’te woman who frowned again. “Not that you’re like that my lovely little dove.” The compliment seemed to ease her for the time being once more.

“Well my little lion, you’re rather tough.” She gently punched at his cheek, giving him a sly grin. “Why don’t you get their address and go give them a piece of your mind? I’m sure they’d cower in fear of you.”

“I have their darn address!” He pulled a small paper from his chest and waved it about. “Lavender Beds, Ward 16 and Plot 1!” The small paper fluttered from his hand, falling to the ground some few feet away. The miqo’te chuckled faintly and looked back to the lalafell, reaching over to brush some of his hair from his pink tinted face.

“Well what’s stopping you then?” She cooed lightly, her ears perking up in interest.

“They’re… ugh, sellswords.” He scowled in distaste, flopping his head back against her chest. “They’re technically a Free Company registered with New Gridania. They supposed take all sorts of people. People trying to start fresh or some such nonsense. They sound like a damned charity group. Not sure it’d be the best idea to run into a group of ex-convicts and yell.” The miqo’te woman chuckled, lightly patting his head.

“You’re so smart my little lion.” She chuckled softly in good spirits, picking the man up from her lap and settling him on the floor. “Let’s go back to your room, hmm? I have a surprise for you today…” She giggled softly, leading the lalafell away from the table and leaving the small piece of paper on the floor, inscribed with the words,