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The Wolfe Girl [Story]

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Posts are made in a letter format, but are told from the perspective of an off-screen character



The letter is a beige color with an Maelstrom wax seal holding the contents inside.




I do apologize for not warning you ahead of time. The Maelstrom cut my time short, and what was once a promised vacation soon became a transfer back to Limsa Lominsa.


I'm writing to you from Maelstrom Command right now. It seems the work as an Overseer for the Grindstone paid off in the long run; afterall, I was elected for transfer from the Foreign Levy to a post in Command. While a Storm Lieutenant First Class, I should expect my promotion to a Captain and, perhaps even Commander, within the next several cycles.


A small part of my life was wearing the face of another. I think you're familiar with the sentiment, afterall, as the Arbiter. The man who stands upon the rock, ever watching and ever vigilant. A popular icon for many across the city states. It's reached my ears that you recently exceed fifty-four combatants at one. I wonder if that record shall continue rising.


Of course, you're likely wondering what will happen when I am gone. I expect Mari, Jredthys, yourself, and Howl, with a few others whom are rather numerous to count, to feel a loss at my disappearance. Firstly, I shall occasionally send out written letters like this to you and other souls who I feel deserving of them.


Secondly, to further alleviate the loss, I enlisted the services of an old friend. A mentee I met in the Shroud through... complicated circumstances and trained in the art of swordsmanship. His skills with the sword are not like mine; he still has work to do there, but at the very least he can wield a single sword without a shield well. He wields a bow exceedingly well, though, and has an eye for catching details that rivals--mayhaps even outmatches--my own abilities. In return, he saw it fitting to train my eyes and teach me some of the skills necessary to live in the other life. In a way, we're both indebted to each other, but he's declared a debt of loyalty for me. A platonic affair, I assure you.


I don't expect you to immediately trust him. He may even have reached you before you read this letter. I will, however, say this: He can be trusted. A man like him is loyal to those that earn his respect and does not break his vows easily. A word of caution though: Do not ask him about his past. What matters is what he does for you now. The last thing I need is you disposing off a valuable asset.




Elise Wolfe

Storm Lieutenant First Class

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The package comes with both the letter and wrapped up Pastry Fish


Ser and Madam Castille,


I find myself inventing more and more ways to stay entertained. Some are so articulated that only an arcanist from Maelvaan's Gate could dare hope to decipher such works without headache. Others are... well. We'll merely say not fit for words. This leaves me a few categories: illegal dealings, situation at Maelstrom Command, or perhaps art.


For many reasons, I elect not to write about the first of the three this time. Though the position granted me some extra liberty I am without complete freedom and may not freely discuss such topics with... civilians.


The second one, I may write about. I trust you're familiar with the incidents in Ishgard? Mayhaps more so with the... grandiose celebration they've held just a few moons ago, rather than the class structure issues ever present within the Brume.


The recent move was political in nature, if I may so freely offer my opinion. While more of our merchants--and even some of our own recent Maelstrom recruits, according to some documents--are making their way up north, a large portion of Limsans appear keen on one zone in particular: Skysteel Manufactory. Maelvaan's Gate--perhaps I should simply call them 'Customs' now?--reported a large increase of goods from that particular area; the evidence for my conclusion. It isn't just in Limsa Lominsa as well with the firearms; in Ul'dah, I've read such items are more commonly appearing amongst the wares of brokers in the Sapphire Exchange.


T'would appear it only a matter of time before they came about them, hm?


I suppose that leaves me with art, now does it... hrm. Mayhaps a bit of poetry this time. Command hinted at larger paperwork for the coming weeks so I most certainly don't have the pleasure of artistic exploration. As I was saying though... poetry. Forgive me if it is not well-made.


[align=center]In the morn I saw the sky, full of red;

The sun's slow ascent over the sea

as I plop out of bed

and grab warm black tea.

The next meal came at sky clear blue

with a freshly grilled fish,

placed next to a mug's fresh brew,

over a tasty rice dish.

At home, I took out the leaf greens

for a treat from the chef's book.

Add the pepper and beans

and seated comfy in my nook.

Stars shine in the sky as it turns black,

yet Nald'Thal knows... we'll cycle back. [/align]





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