Suddenly, an arrow!

[C'kayah Polaali]

The sun was setting behind the walls of the city, though the day was still hot and the night's wind had not yet risen. C'kayah Polaali was holding up a jar of sweet new Thanalan wine, watching the way the dimming light played through it when the arrow shattered it. He fell to the ground, clutching at the shaft that protruded from his shoulder. His free hand scrabbled inside his vest for a glowing blue crystal on a leather cord. A portable aetherite crystal. Extortionately expensive, he had started carrying one after the nearly successful attempt on his life by the Roegadyn bandit Dennthota. The crystal flared, and he disappeared.

 

Word spread out that night like ripples from a stone tossed into a pond. Gil was being offered - substantial gil - for information leading to the capture of the assassin.

[111]

*Thunk* The arrow lands in Evangeline's shoulder, blunted by the layers of mail she customarily wears under her clothing. Armor meant to ward off the swarms of assassins that would some day be after her once her revolution began to gain momentum. Of course... its been over a year now, and no one had ever tried.

 

"Wait... someone tried to kill me?"

 

"MUHAHAHAA THOSE TYRANICAL SCUM HAVE FINALLY TAKEN NOTICE."

 

Evangeline grips the arrow and laughs maniacally at the sky, "FINALLY."

 

Then somewhere in the distance an assassin, who accidentally hit the wrong target, wonders why the bypasser he hit instead is sobbing with joy. "I wonder who the hell that lass is."

[Verad]

Nothing, because I'm probably the one who fired it in the first place.

 

Not that I was trying to kill myself. I just fired an arrow at some innocuous thing other than me.

[Aya]

Nothing, because I'm probably the one who fired it in the first place.

 

Not that I was trying to kill myself. I just fired an arrow at some innocuous thing other than me.

I actually thought this would just be, "Nothing, its situation normal." with all of the trouble Verad seems to get into these days :-]

[Kellach Woods]

"Huh, must have mistook me for someone else."

 

"Why do they want to kill Phantom? He's a good bird!"

 

Kell'd be utterly oblivious.

[Dat Oni]

Nothing, because I'm probably the one who fired it in the first place.

 

Incoming book!

[xelliexell]

When narrowly missed by the arrow, Maia would take a sip of tea and obliviously ask if anyone else felt a draft.

[Roda]

Roda would probably shout to inform the kind hunter that she is not a deer, (Because why would there be a bounty on a hobo?!) upon hearing the second arrow being readied she would bolt like said deer and make haste for the nearest, most public place.

[Sounsyy]

Sounsyy would inevitably get struck by the arrow... in her good shoulder. Which would trigger a violent string of cursing and staggering unsteadily about the room as she tried to decide whether to pull the arrow out or not. Something to the effect of: "Godsdamned swiven scrag wit shite fer aiming just looses his swiven bolt. Ahh! Seven Hells that smarts like scrag's breath. Damned it all this bottle's as good as wasted." Etc etc.

 

Upon which she'll conclude the best course of action is to secure the arrow shaft with one hand and douse the wound in what alcohol is left in whatever bottle she's carrying, bringing on a new slew of insults and curses directed at the gods, and projectiles, and what a shite city she's in. After hobbling about a bit and generally being very angry, the fear of dying such a worthless death will start to set in and she'll likely retire to a safer location with a new bottle of liquor. Arrow still sticking out of her shoulder until she can find something or someone who knows what to do with it.

[Hali]

Corelyn would likely be warned ahead of time due to her retooled magitek companion, Bit, and would very likely panic and, depending on what she has on her person, either dive for cover or activate some kind of magitek device to shield herself from the attack. She'd know full well why someone would want her dead: she's Garlean. She's a citizen of the enemy's land, a deserter, and a traitor to her formerly-beloved Garlemald. Both sides could just as easily gun for her.

 

Dail'a, on the other hand, would likely be distracted, as he frequently is. While, being a miqo'te with rather sharp senses, he'd have at least some inkling as to something flying at him at a high speed, it wouldn't be until it was too late. He'd likely wind up taking it in a generally non-fatal area, then immediately proceed to scream all manner of curse words before snapping the shaft and getting ready to murder the hell out of something.

[Asmodean]

Asmodean wouldn't be surprised someone was out to kill him. It would be more along the thought of "Well... took them about damn time." At leas if the attack happened in Ul'dah. Seeing as his father was executed for a lie, it wouldn't be farfetched to thinking someone would want him head as well if they knew who he is/was.

 

 

Next he would end up being annoyed that someone was so damn cheap to hire such a useless assassin. Any where else however, he would wonder if he was really the target or not.

[Marisa]

-Takes arrow to face-

-Dies-

 

Such is life.

[Sylentmana]

I started to write a simple response, but got carried away and 2.5 hours later I had this. I hope someone reads and enjoys it.

 

 

 

Q'ilora had been sitting in the Quicksand poring over the ancient and musty tome she had discovered in a vault during her latest sojourn into the ruins recently uncovered by the shifting sands of the Sagolii. The prospect of studying ancient magicks thought lost to time had thrilled the young thaumaturge to no end. Unfortunately, this pursuit of knowledge and power had begun to take a turn for the tedious and perplexing. 

 

The tome had survived being buried in the sand for hundreds, possibly thousands of years, in remarkably good condition. It was of about medium size and thick, bound in dark inky-blue leather of unknown origin. The edges were decorated in exquisite gold and silver filigree that swirled inwards forming a highly detailed image of a fierce and cruel, yet slender looking monster with large bat-like wings. Some powerful voidsent, no doubt. 

 

This creature stood with the palms of its hands facing each other and within them had set a silver lock attached to a metal clasp that had held the tome firmly closed. Fortunately for Q'ilora, a goldsmith friend of hers had been able to disassemble the lock, as the key had been no where in sight. However, the words within were written in a script she had never encountered before and she was well acquainted with many written languages, both ancient and modern. 

 

On the table before her, next to the mysterious tome, lay two different language reference works, a large leather-bound book about the general history of the various civilizations of Thanalan, and no small amount of her own personal notes scattered about. She had procured these books from the library of the Thaumaturge's Guild. 

 

Sadly, she could find nothing in either reference book that matched the script of the tome she had found and none of the civilizations in the history book seemed to match what she had seen of the ruins. The only thing of which she could be certain was that the ruins were not of Allaghan origin. They seemed younger than that.

 

The young Seeker had been studying for nearly forteen hours without a break and had made no progress. She moved her work to the Quicksand in the hopes that a change of scenery and a bite to eat would renew her stamina and uncloud her mind. That had been four hours ago and still she had made no progress. In exasperation she stretched her arms out in front of her and onto the table then dropped her dead onto them. She let out a groan of frustration then remembering where she was, looked about, her face flushing with embarrassment.

 

The Quicksand was bustling with activity as it always seemed to be, but no one was paying her any mind. She was glad for that. With her head still on the table, she turned to face the counter where Momodi stood. The Quicksand's energetic proprietress was orientating a new adventurer much as she had Q'ilora when she had first arrived in Ul'dah. 

 

That made her smile. It had been almost ten months since she had left her home in the Sharlayan motherland to study the ancient ruins of Eorzea, though she was not a member of the Son's of Saint Coinach. No, she was on her own and had turned to adventuring to supply her own financial backing. Not that she minded, though. She found she rather enjoyed the work and it gave her more opportunities to discover more ruins. It was during one of her jobs that she stumbled across the ruins containing the tome she was now attempting to decipher.

 

Her eyes had begun to droop as she lay with her head still on the table when she felt a sudden rush of air pass over her head and saw an arrow sprout from the back of the chair at the table across from her. The Elezen gentleman who had been seated there gave out a startled yelp and lurched forward. Q'ilora's eyes snapped fully open and in a single swift motion she rose from her seat and withdrew the ornate scepter from her belt. As she rose, she turned to face the direction from which she believed the arrow had come, but saw no archers. 

 

All around her, other adventurers had drawn their weapons and were now glancing about the Adventurer's Guild. Some were shouting to each other and others gathered up into goups and charged outside into the dark of night looking for the assailant. Seeing no further danger, Q'ilora turned back to examine the arrow. It had pierced the wood of the chair and protruded from the other side some three ilms. Lucky for the Elezen, he had been leaning forward in his seat engrossed in telling some tale. Otherwise he would likely be dead.

 

Q'ilora wondered who would want the man dead and why. Then again, this was Ul'dah. Assassinations seemed to be a near weekly event. As she examined the arrow, she noticed a piece of paper attached to the shaft. Overcome by curiosity, she removed the note and and opened it. Her green eyes widened as she read. The message was short but direct.

 

"The secrets of the desert should remain hidden. Return the dark tome to the vault or perish."

 

This was not an assassination attempt on some merchant. It had been a warning...for her. Adjusting her glasses, she smiled to herself. She knew that her curiosity would never let her return the tome. She had to know what forbidden knowledge it contained and she was certain she would discover it or die in the trying. 

 

Q'ilora folded the note and placed it in a pouch on her belt. She then gathered her books, notes, and the mysterious tome and placed them in her pack. She then checked into the inn for the night. She would need to rest for the coming journey. At first light she set out. She knew of only one place in Eorzea that could possibly hold the key to deciphering the tome. She needed to reach the Great Gubal Library.

 

 

[Duplicitous Dame]

Nahare would probably be minding her own business, going over the day's events in her head, and in the process of raising her rum flask to her lips when the arrow was loosed. Due to the angle at which the arrow was shot it, it'd impale the flask, which would cause Nahare to yelp and promptly drop it. In the frenzy she'd be swearing up a storm, grab her gun, and fire a few rounds in the direction from whence the arrow came (and not really care if she hit any of the panicked patrons in the process). Aaaand depending on her mood she would either chase after the nuisance or just pick up the flask, inspect it for damage, and just order more rum from the barkeep.