Starsfall [Fate-14] IC Thread

[Zelmanov]

PART 3! one more part to go!

 

Orrin would perk up to the sound of footsteps. Nihka approached the guard outside of his gaol. She had more medicine and clothes in her arms. Without any sun or sky, it was difficult to tell, but Orrin guessed it may have been a day or two since he last saw her. 

 

Nihka raises a brow as she walks in, she saw that the cell was empty. She looked side to side for her friend. 

 

"....Orrin..."

 

"Nihka." he says, his voice was far from the weak whimper it was when he was first treated.

He was exactly where he was since that meeting with the cliptail: leaning up against the wall by the exit.

 

Nihka tilted her head slightly.

 

"....are.... are you.. hungry..." she showed the bundle of cloth in her arms. "... cold..."

 

He nodded "Food...food would be nice”

 

Nihka nodded back and kneeled in front of him, unrolling the bundle. There was not much, just some dried meat and fruits, a clump of what looks like dried meat and berries smooshed together in tallow. Not a fancy meal, but energy dense and able to keep for a long time. The bundle of cloth itself is some fresh clothes. Again, nothing fancy...but maybe a little warmer.

 

He did not seem to care what was offered, he would go for it quickly, devouring the food "Thank you." he said breathlessly "Water?" his voice begun to rasp. Hands curled into tight fists, his body was so visibly tense, so bundled up with rage and hatred, but in what direction was it pointing?

 

Nihka grimaced a bit, and turns away. She went to check if there was a jar or jug or pot of water in the small room. Her tail swished as she searched. It was not hard, there were not many places to hide something like that in here. She returned with a small jar she had filled with water, one brow raised as she looked to him, handing it to him.

 

Orrin goes for the jar and started to quickly cup water from it into his mouth. It was a desperate quiet minute as he gulped loudly and then reclines back against the wall. He paused for a brief moment, leaning his head back against the wall "I was right…" he said softly, looking to Nihka.

 

"... right about..." Nihka tilted her head, watching.

 

"I'm no prisoner of mercy." He said, holding his gaze "They want to use me...for something."

 

"..i not...ah... never argue.. particular fact..." She sat back on her heels. "...d..do you know purpose..."

 

"I do not." he said "One of their slaves came in" he peeled off his blanket to expose his chest "Changed the bandages"

 

Nihka nodded, then gestured to the fresh change of clothes.

 

"... definite see use... or curious... learn about y-you... ... probable want information.... Orrin goal... location.. ally.... ... possible will ask perform.. task..."

 

"They will get nothing out of me" he said scowling.

 

Nihka's lips thin, then she nodded once more

 

"...i understand..." She softly let out a “hmm”, looking over the bandages.

 

He looked to the fresh change of clothing "thank you Nihka.." he said and looks to her. "Whatever your plans are, do them quickly, before you see me any worse off."

 

"..i... not understand..." She tilted her head.

 

"You think you can change them, make them see something else…" his icy eyes seemed to burn "Isn't that right? That's the only reason you are here."

 

Nihka shook her head, then sighed quietly. Her ears flicked towards the direction of the door, and the guard.

 

"...yes.... ah... and no...."

 

He narrowed his gaze, noticing how her ears flicked in direction towards the guard, he said nothing, waiting quietly for a response.

 

"... h here. ...to learn... to try understand.... to try talk.... help avoid death..." Her ears twitched a bit and she smiles to Orrin weakly.

 

"Take care Nihka, you tell them the values of not killing and they'll learn how to abuse it. It very well may be that your teachings are what is keeping me alive for now, but perhaps it would have been better if I was killed."

 

 "... death never better...." Nihka shook her head. "...if dead.... no chance change... no chance learn or grow..."

 

"No chance to make things worse either." he responded, wrapping the blanket around himself, holding himself with it. The occasional puff of condensed breath in the cool air slipped from his lips. "They haven't harmed me since my arrival." he said in a lowered tone "Whatever they need me for, they need me healthy."

 

"... no reason hurt you.... no benefit..." Nihka shrugged. "...I suspect just talk..."

 

 

He laughed bitterly "No reason? As if they need one. They need a reason not to harm me. Breaking arms, legs, starvation, all these does not stop a mouth from moving, in fact, may make it easier." he focuses on Nihka intensely "You've not seen war, nor are you an Inquisitor's son." he said the icy eyes pleading "You fool yourself if you believe otherwise, which is why, whatever your goal is, you best work quickly before they get what they want from me, or I die from my refusal."

 

 "...you misunderstand....." A pause and her ears lowered. She shrugged. "....plenty reason not hurt.... n..no... no reason...t..to hurt.... not important.... ..but....ah... I know... Nuhn value strength... admire strength...." She points at him very briefly. "...I assume reason not hurt...is.... because want talk... not interrogate...."

 

"What strength? My capture was far from some glorious last stand. It makes no sense"

 

Nihka pondered this quietly for a moment, looking intently at Orrin.

 

"We were led into ambush, one I knew was coming and yet still we went, confident...was foolish.”

 

"..w..." Nihka frowned, brows furrowed, stuttering a bit, before finally managing a few words, her head tilted.

 

".... reason... for.... come...."

 

He tilted his head in turn "My reason? or yours?"

 

"..you... reason... reason come... despite ambush expect..."

 

"We needed information, needed to know how many were there, where they are, how to get there...its a miqo'te tribe, they are never too large..." he says looking to her. "I had expected a need to retreat, but not on the first day, No way they had the troops to cover 12 days worth of land.”

 

".... not know lot... miqo'te tribe..." Nihka tilts her head. "...lot about... about scout... about territory....." She frowned slightly. "....if just interest number.... reason not ask Nihka...."

 

“You know what I'd do with those numbers."

 

".... prepare force attack... kill.... kill tribe... kill child... kill kitten...."

 

"I'd do what I must." He looked at her "And that's why I could not ask you."

 

"... you still plan kill child..."

 

"The children are far from innocent, they take them with them for the hunts, are there and help, help with the mutilation, the killing, the ambushes. We would strike down all that would fight when we attack." he says, face cold, distant "I do what is necessary, I do not enjoy it."

 

"... Deny chance learn.. chance grow.... chance love..." Nihka closed her eyes. ".... vengeance... just.... cause more vengeance.... violence just cause violence..."

 

"It ends, when there are none left." he said coldly "They'll have their chance when their Nunh's head is on a spit, should they not see it at that moment then mercy, kindness…all wasted on them." he took a heavy breath "People like me exist, so that people like you need never see this, never have to make these decisions."

 

"...a single chance.... a moment.... and... no second chance..." Nihka tilted her head.

 

"This /is/ their second chance" he said looking at her "The clipped that was here spoke that it is cowardly to die, we'll see if their words hold any meaning."

 

 Nihka raised a brow.

 

"... first chance... explain..."

 

"It was when they decided to expand, to not stay in the mountains where they would have been left alone." he kept the blanket tightly wrapped "Much like when Thordan and his knights twelve doomed Ishgard to its war, so too has their Nunh. They'll have their second chance when he is deposed"

 

"...is not chance...." Nihka frowned. "... for tribe.. for chance learn mercy... learn love... most tribe... first chance..... if....if you kill Nunh.... will be first chance.... for most tribe.... and you will condemn... single failure... like clip...."

 

"It won't be like clipping, it will be quick, no humiliation, no torture like what these barbarians do."

 

: "... for single failure... deny any chance learn...."

 

"Their lesson will be that their Nunh is no god."

 

"...if...y..you can even ...bleed....Nunh...."

 

"Come off it, Nihka. You are starting to sound like them!" he said with a growl. "I've felled dragons, survived primals and voidsent alike. There are no gods but the twelve above."

 

"...I watch Akiko stab... in chest... not bleed ... I watch Nunh fight...." She glanced over towards the door, her ears flicking. ".... strong.... incredible proud... and... ah..... you will upset huntress... guard.... keep insult....."

 

Orrin locks eyes with Nihka, gaze unwavering "Only would prove me right if she comes in here to hurt me whilst I'm injured and unarmed. They are too meek to dare challenge me on equal footing. Let their precious feelings be hurt."

 

Nihka smirked a bit and nodded. "....d..do you think.... fight primal... alone ... can...."

 

"No, I've no delusions of that. but none these huntresses are one." 

 

Nihka nodded, still not looking away from the entrance. "....Nunh.... try avoid fight Nunh...... will probable chance talk soon..." Her ears lower slightly as she realized that in a way he was right, she had started to sound like them. But it's just... she was just explaining the facts of the matter...

 

He lifts his head up to look at Nihka "I have not much choice, without a weapon I am not capable of doing much."

 

Nihka turned to look him in the eyes. "..... even weapon... with weapon... unless want fight primal alone...."

 

"With a weapon, I can leave..."

 

Nihka's brows furrowed and she tilted her head. "..... fight escape..."

 

"If necessary, my chances are much worse without a weapon" He looks to Nihka "You'll think they'll let me go? You think if I give them what they want they will leave me be? I will die, Nihka.” He casts on arm out to the side in emphasis, slamming a fist against the cave wall “And if I am going to, I will do so fighting, not in some cell like an animal."

 

Nihka's expression falls. ".... depend.... on Nunh ask.... suppose.... but..." Nihka squeaks and cuts herself off when she hears a new voice.

 

"You may have your chance, Outsider."

 

She turns to look to the door again, ears back. A man stands in the door, one whom Nihka had seen once before. Somewhat older-looking, a tribal like the rest, and built tall, broad-shouldered and muscular. A single scar traced over his face, that and his tightly pulled-back hair lending a severe, angular cast to him. A pair of spears are holstered in an X upon his back, and silvery eyes regarded the both of them with a calm, piercing sense of observation.

 

Nihka stands and bows her head in greeting. Just her head, mind, respectful but not submissive.

 

Orrin however turn towards the Miqo’te and where Nihka bowed he'd not look away, ever defiant.

 

The man's lip curved in a light smile. "What? No bold proclamations? No threats, or taunts? Ishgardians." A soft chuckle, and he shakes his head. "The Nunh wishes to speak with you. Follow. Or be dragged. That would be amusing." He turned, and started to head off.

 

Nihka looked to Orrin, head tilted. ".... probable....ah... not enough time change new clothes.... "

 

Orrin pushed up from the wall and stood, looking to Nihka "The moment of truth." he then allowed the blanket he used as a cloak to fall fall, the bandages wrapped about his chest the only sort of modesty aside from the slacks he wore. "Nihka, pray we see each other again."

 

"~Menphina's love guide you~"

[Zelmanov]

THE FOURTH AND FINAL EDIT! THE MEETING WITH X'ZARANN! HYPE!

Apologies for the serial posts.

 

The older Miqo’te male led the way through the tunnels. He set a solid, unhurried pace. Orrin and X’ogun came out onto a larger cross-tunnel. Here and there, other Warriors and Clipped were going about, though any and all who came anywhere close stepped respectfully out of the way of Orrin, or, more likely, his escort. The place was dim, gleaming, and cold. Down the main path, and further, and then into a widening space set up like a room. Here there were carpets, divans and a chair in the middle. In the middle of the room, laid out on the carpets was Orrin's armor.

 

Across the room the tunnel continued and by its mouth stood a strangely-familiar huntress. The huntress stood, ponytail draped over her shoulder, watching Orrin with that cat-like regard many of them affected. Her yellow eyes and general appearance tickled some recollection. Orrin’s gaze drifted on the oddly familiar huntress first, though his focus is drawn to the armor on display.

 

"Go on, boy, get dressed. The Nunh is finishing His meeting." The male waited nearby, giving a nod to the huntress, who nods back, with equal depth.

 

Orrin blinked and moved towards his armor. The male Miqo’te pulled out a small pocketbook and began to read, while the female simply kept watching Orrin. He first reached for the scaled skin-tight suit that made the majority of his armor, he expected a deep tear just under the left pectoral, a wound from the battle before but found it curiously repaired, it looked near pristine. His grip tightened about the suit but eventually he slips it on. Click. Clack. Snap. After the scale mail under suit was on he made quick work to affix his gauntlets, boots, pauldrons, the mechanized armor fitting and tightening with a metallic ring. He had learned to don the much bulkier Drachen Mail without a squire and had done the motions so many times, so often in times of crisis that it had become second nature. The much lighter and older dragonlancer armor was nothing in comparison. The huntress, waited until he is done dressing up fully. Her stance iwas almost statue-like, her tail not even moving, her eyes the only thing that shifted even a little as he prepared himself.

 

He was fully garbed just in time for X'indro to amble out of the corridor ahead, the same corridor where the Nunh was supposed to be. His crystalline pink eyes lit up and he grinned as he saw the Dragoon. "Hey, it's my Outsider. He didn't heal up so badly, did he, Vurr?" He grins at the huntress, who more or less ignored him. Then looked at the older man. "Ogun too? Two Fallen for one prisoner, interesting..." His tail swished, and he strutted on by. "Well, have a nice meeting~"

 

The girl, X'vurr, nods. "The Nunh will see you now." Her voice is familiar too, yet not, weirdly-so... When she moves in order to lead the way, it's almost jarring. She goes slightly ahead of him, down the passageway.

 

Orrin’s gaze continued to hold on the huntress before donning his helm and walking forward. His armored footsteps upon the cave interior sounding out loudly, echoing, announcing his presence far before anything could possibly come in sight. Orrin himself followed quietly without a word, looking, scanning the walls. At this point, there were no other paths; the passage went on a little while, before ending in a larger chamber. This one had comparatively little in it for its size. Some fifty fulms across and thirty high, the ground dipped down from the entrance, giving the chamber the impression of a shallow bowl. In the middle, the impression was reinforced by a pool of clear water some ten fulms across, still and glittering in the crystalline light. Standing on the far edge, regarding his reflection, was a man who could only be X'zarann.

 

The resemblence to Anstarra was discernible. A little taller, broader in the shoulder and more visibly muscular, he had the same fine features and physical flawlessness, the same green eyes, the same relaxed and confident-looking smirk, as if thinking of something mildly pleasant. His garb was not what Orrin would expect from a tribal. He had a fine sort of breastplate, which was cloaked with spiked shoulders. His hair was long, spilling below the shoulder; a few locks strayed over his face.

 

Planted point-first into the ground to either side of him, were a pair of spears. One was Orrin's, the ancient forked spear that came from a time before Ishgard, before the war. The other is a curious, technologically-advanced-looking thing, with a design reminiscent of Allagan style, or perhaps Garlean. Magitek, at the least.

 

Orrin walked forward, his footsteps continuing to echo out in the large chamber. He spied his weapon by the man's side and narrowed his gaze behind the visor. He halted at the far end of his side of the arena.

 

X’zarann looked up as Orrin approaches. His gaze was not very much like Anstarra's. It burned with... something. Ambition, perhaps, arrogance, certainly, and a potential for cruelty, though An was hardly innocent of that. There was an edge to his physical beauty that was doubtlessly devastatingly alluring, to those attracted to such.

 

"Ah, there you are. I trust you have found the accommodations.. Apropriately comfortable."

 

Orrin remained silent, waiting at the opposite end of the basin, arms at either side stoically. Though his body language suggested a preparedness, as if were X'zarran to lug a lance at him he would be ready to move.

 

The Nunh smirked lightly, and grasps Orrin's spear, jerking it free of the stone. "A fine weapon." He twirled it ably in his fingers, sliding it down one hand so as to examine the tip. "It is said a Warrior can be judged by their spear. Has it been used? Does it remain sharp? Where are the nicks in the length, those markings that show how desperate their defense." He grasped it below the head, and sets the butt down before him, point-up.

 

Orrin tensed when X'zarann dare touched his weapon. His right hand closed into a tight fist, the metal of his clawed gauntlet rattling.

 

"I have wondered if that remained true of Outsiders. You whose weapons are made in foundries by…craftsmen, who rarely - if ever - wield a weapon themselves. It did not seem likely…and yet in my travels, I have often been impressed by what Outsiders have managed to accomplish. Such feats of engineering, of innovation." His other hand plucked up the other weapon, twirling it and setting it down in his other fist, in a mirror of Orrin's. It glowed softly.

 

"Above all else, I have sought to understand how things work. Power, artifice.. aether, magic. Cleverness and artistry, I find myself compelled to understand it. Do you know what I mean?"

 

Still, he remained silent, the helm's visor hiding his eyes and mouth, betraying no emotion through his face. He stands at the other side, maintaining the distance between him and X’zarann

 

X'zarann laughs softly, then smirks. "Ah, but what am I saying? How could you understand? Just looking at you, I can see you have as much profundity as this pool." Orrin glanced down, it was easy to discern now that the water that skirted the basin was only a few ilm at its deepest. "I might as well talk to your spear. From what my Warlord tells me, you speak far more eloquentl with it than without." He flashes his teeth in a grin. "Alas that the irony is likely lost upon you. How your kind loves to condescend mine, seeing us as only simple killers. Yet if you would glance upon your reflection..." He shrugs. "Still, I have use for weapons, as well. Living, and otherwise. So what say you, Orrin Halgren. Shall I make a weapon of you?"

 

Orrin inhaled sharply then exhaled slowly "What makes you think I'll ever serve you? Turn against Nihka, Anstarra?" He remains at a distance "You made your first mistake against me a year ago, your second when your rabid dogs for huntresses brutalized my friends. Assuming I'll ever align my cause with you is your third and last."

 

X'zarann smirksed, a satisfied gleam entering his eyes, as though he already scored a point. "Ah, not mute after all." He tilted his head. "Do not speak to me as though your people have never committed any atrocities. I visited one of the dungeons in your magnificent city of Ishgard. Such glory, standing astride such maleficence. The hypocrisy of it veritably took my breath away. Would you deny that cruelty exists in every society, at one strata or another? Would you deny that it serves a purpose?" He shakes his head. "No. One such as you would not be so naive. Some of my huntresses are cruel, yes... but it serves a purpose yet." He tilted his head the other way then swished his tail. A smile wrote itself on his lips. "As to the other... it is gratifying to know that I was correct. That it was you, who my Fallen took the Wyrmtear from. Are you angry, at such theft? You, who had to commit murder to even claim the relic in the first place?"

 

Orrin would be staring daggers were it not for the unblinking red eyes of his messail masking his expression. "Shows how little you know, I had shed no blood for that tear. That cursed relic should have met its end back then, its only existence will cause more bloodshed." He said "Though not that you care, I've seen your sort before, rule by fear and misinformation. You call outsiders weak and yet cling to their weapons. A storm shall come, X'zarann, one that will claim your tribe, and they shall know it was a calamity brought by your hands."

 

X'zarann barked a laugh. "Then you are a thief yourself! For the tear's origins lie in blood. And one who is meant to take it, is intended to use it; one who would simply destroy it is not intended to own it. And you speak of bloodshed as though it were some terrible thing. As if this weapon has not drunk rivers' worth." He lifted Orrin's spear, holding it parallel to the ground. "Anyroad, make no mistake. Outsiders, as a rule, ARE weak... but clever. After all, it was Outsiders who made us, made my people strong in the first place. Made us strong enough to escape our enslavement to them… so, clever, but perhaps not wise. To wit..."

 

He flipped Orrin's spear in the air. It spuns, in a tight, gleaming blur. Orrin watched his weapon soar through the air, though a half glance was kept on X'zarann, half expecting it to be a distraction. The spear drove head down into the stone, in the middle of the pool. Orrin growls "That blade was put away a millennium ago, only now has it been drawn to smite those deserving." He says walking towards it. "Shows what you know. The tear is born of hatred, it corrupts and does nothing else. It is relic of an era past." he neared his weapon "And in the past it should remain!" he said, reaching for his weapon. He'd pry it out of the ground and brandish it towards X'zarann in a single extended arm, grip just halfway down the haft. Orrin grits his teeth, he can still feel the wound just below his chest shooting a shock of pain up the length of his shoulder and arm. "You can't control it, no one can! Better men than you have tried! You'll be a thrall, out of control, you’ll destroy your own sept with it, if you even care for it.”

 

X'zarann laughed, low and long, a growling, rolling sound as he slowly brandished and wheeled his own advanced spear. "And that shows what you know, Dragoon." Gracefully, holding his weapon pointed out in extension with the butt behind his back, he cocked his head up. "There are no better men than me. There are no men like me, at all. Come. Let me show you."

 

Orrin's fully extended arm with his spear drew back in a spinning flourish over his head before resting behind him, spear hanging low at half stance "Even if I fall, others shall come." he then brought his weapon properly in front of him in Ishgardian Lancer style. "Is this what you wanted? Why I'm a prisoner instead of a skull on a heap like so many others?"

 

"And what if it is?" X'zarann grinned, showing his teeth brightly. "Is it so strange? That I would wish to test my skills against a formidable Warrior? Who held seven of my hunters and huntresses at bay on his own, including one of my Warlords. Who, if the rumors are true, fought against a Primal…alongside my sister." His eyes gleamed brightly, fiercely. "Will you tell me you are not curious? To know how you may fare against me? Surely you have heard tales of me, by now, from Anista if nowhere else. I value power, and skill, and challenges. To fight only the weak is to stagnate."

 

"You risk dispelling your claim to godhood?" He said digging in his stance, steeling himself "so be it"

 

X'zarann laughs, and whirled his own spear in a tight arc, warming up his muscles and loosening for a fight. "If you give me enough of a challenge, I will show you the power of the Radiance. For now though, let us see..." As he did his warm up Orrin sparred no time and leaps into the air in a high arc, upon cresting, PSHOOM, like a spear of light he rockets down to clash with X'zarran with strikes that clearly intended to be fatal

 

X'zarann whipped his spear up to parry. It was a motion remarkable not only for its raw skill, but also for the expertise in which fought against the favored weapon of his tribe. There was a bright, ringing clash of arms and X'zarann skidded back a fulm. He looked back at the small cut on his arm he grinned fiercely. "Ahh yes! I knew you would make this fun!" he said before lunging viciously!

Orrin’s eyes then widen suddenly as the Miqo'te lunged at him with speed, He barely deflected the thrust with a powerful counter swing of his spear crosswise which of course sent a jolt of pain from his chest, up his shoulder and down the length of the arm, bordering on tingling and numbness. "ngh.." He stepped forward past X’zarann to roll with the strike and round to face the Nunh. Orrin then charged, as he does so the aether coalesced around him, a draconic roar born of the aether itself as the phantom scales warped around him in azure hue. X'zarann's eyes sharpened as Orrin invoked a power he only heard of. Orrin approached with another vicious thrust aimed at center mass only to have X’zarann whip his spear fiercely downwards, driving Orrin’s attack down into the stone; the ground explodes around the terrible, uncontrolled impact, sending shards of crystalline rock in all directions.

 

"Haha… what amazing gall you have, calling me out for wanting to use the power of dragons for my own! I'll agree with X'indro. Outsiders are endlessly entertaining!" Teeth bared, he shifted to the side and lunged, using Orrin’s own momentum to add to the speed, his advanced lance coming in like a comet.

 

"What this is, is /our/ curse, our cross to bear!" he said with anger, deflecting the lunge upwards, rearing his lance back for a counter thrust, digging his feet into the ground. Though Orrin fully expected him to swing downward in a block. Properly grounded Orrin rocketed off the ground and with the newfound aethereal power. The Nunh blocked air and by the time he could look up Orrin was already descending upon him like a Levin bolt from above, weapon bearing down upon X’zarann in an overhead slam. He recoiled from the ferocious blow, a cross wise block that caught the spear head on the shaft over his head. His legs buckled below the strike before redirecting Orrin off to the side, sending him into a roll across the ground.

 

"Yes... now I begin to see how you stood up to my Warriors! I was right to face you myself. Now let me show you some of the mastery of the Nunh!" He clenched his fist on his lance, and there seems to almost be a shimmering of light in the air, a halo of sublime force. When X’zarran lunged with his lance this time it was with no frills, only vastly increased speed.

 

Orrin had only gotten back to his feet and his eyes widened “too fast” he thought and in desperation he brings his weapon up to defend but only managed to prevent it from running him through. The parry directed it into his shoulder instead. He grunted in pain and tried to channel it. With spear still lodged in him, Orrin struck with his own with the one good arm, aimed at the Nunh’s gut.

 

X'zarann clicked his tongue as he ably, swiftly defended against the blow, pulling the spear out of the now mangled pauldron with inhuman speed, crossing their weapons pinning Orrin in place for a moment as X’zarann met his gaze with his own. "Your injuries slow you. You are powerful, stronger than your own body can encompass. Do you not tire? Of being weaker than you deserve? Of drowning in your own might? Surrender, and I will FREE you of your shackles!" His eyes gleamed with luminescence, his words carrying weight, force…he effect similar to how his attack was empowered, only now, it was his words...

 

Orrin could feel the truth to the Nunh’s words, but his mind would not falter where his aging body would break. Orrin growled back in response "I am strong enough!" the aether swelled, the roar rising in volume. He broke the deadlock on might alone, deftly he parried another entangling strike from X’zarran, knocking the glowing weapon wide, exposing the Nunh’s chest. Orrin gripped his weapon with both hands and thrusted the attack came in fierce and powerful it drove home, right into X'zarann's chest. The horrid sound of flesh and bone torn and cracking rung out. The Nunh looked at him wide eyed... and then laughed, the sound resonating, Light rose from within him. "Oh, you are strong, yes." He gripped the spear and jerked it out, leaving a hole without blood... which filled with light, leaving only unbroken flesh behind when it subsided. "But not strong enough." Orrin’s assault is given pause by the sight of X’zarann shrugging off a blow that would put down any man. “I had to see it for myself…” Orrin reared his weapon back into ready position but then winces, the draconic aether that surrounded him seemed to flare, licking at his flesh like flames at a pyre, trying to consume his form “No…not now”

 

X’zarran stepped back, baring his teeth, and flourishes his hand; in it, there was the gleam of a trio of materia. "Let me show you my own... inherited might." He pitched the spheres into his open mouth and blinding, electric, flaring energy bursted from him. It coursed through his veins, floods his eyes, and he seemed to swell, to practically float with the awesome power roiling inside him. Orrin tried to shake off the roiling rage of his inner dragon and resumes his attack but

X'zarann parried so quickly. Nihka's words come back to mention now, faster than Orrin could see, impossibly strong... there was no flourish, no splash or dash in his moves, they are sharp, frame-perfect, and backed with literally godlike power. The clashing parry forced Orrin to /recoil/ with the impact... and X’zarann followed it with a strike almost too quick to comprehend.

 

Orrin had barely gotten his footing back from the strike when he sensed X’zarann’s approach. Orrin lets out a gasp, on reflex he brought his weapon crosswise, catching one of the tines on that ornate magitek spear on the shaft on the weapon. His extended arms buckle, a shot of pain shooting through his chest as he felt his collarbone nearly fracture, under the force his shoulders tried to bare. He was pushed back several fulms from the strike. He gritted his teeth, white knuckle grip upon his weapon. Nearly dropping to one knee he holds against the assault.

 

Orrin shunted aside the spear, panting, heaving, Blood was pooling seeping through his scales near the wound he sustained earlier. His vision blurred, he could not discern if the three Nunh’s he saw were real or not. "Not here, not like this..." he pants and growls "Your power, Millette, I need more..." he says, his hold on his weapon wavering. Then suddenly there was humongous flaring of aether, almost blindingly so. One would expect to see aetherial blade to form followed by a series of destructive slashes to be wrought upon X’zarann but instead the energy petered out. As the light faded Orrin fell to his knees and then backwards sitting upon his legs, letting go of his weapon, letting clatter to the ground as head back.

 

X'zarann stood, blazing with power, his features somehow more remote, implacable... perfected behind the veil of deific might. He stepped forward and lifted his spear. Light seems to gather on the tip, as he pressed it to Orrin's brow... saying something, though his words are a fog, but theirs is a terrible weight of meaning... and then all is darkness.

 

________________________________________________________________

 

 

"Ah, he awakens...”The face that greeted Orrin isn't one he recognizes, and yet is familiar soon came understanding, if not comprehension. For the face was Ishgardian. Or the man's clothes were, anyroad. They were the clothes of a chirurgeon of House Haillenarte. "You had us worried, ser."

 

Orrin sat up, or at least tried to. It was that sort of sudden rising that came from combat being the last thing one sees.

 

"Pray, my lord, your injuries!" The man protested, gently trying to usher Orrin back into a prone position. "You're safe here, though it's the Fury's own grace that you were found in time. Left in a snowbank to die, it seemed, and one of our patrolmen had the fortune of spotting you before you froze to death. We've been warming and treating you for two days now."

 

 

He blinked "Left to die..?" he leaned back into the infirmary bed, it was a familiar feeling. "That makes no sense, he mutters. Trying to recall the moments before he lost consciousness. Those last moments.. the heat of combat, with the blazing draconic rage filling his consciousness.. then a terrible burning as X'zarann's lance touched his brow.. the sharp pain of sudden migraine drives it all away for the moment. He clenched his teeth and held his head with his right arm, exhaling and inhaling through his mouth almost in a snarl. He laid back down. "My weapon, my armor, where are they?"

 

"Your arms and armor are here, my lord. Right there." He pointed off to the side, where indeed Orrin's raiment has been set up on a stand in the proper manner. He moved away for a moment, and returned with a bowl of broth. "Please, drink this. You must recover your strength."

 

He reached for the bowl, drinking in deep the broth. Soon enough it was drained of its contents and he rested on his back. "Thank you." he sighed and closed his eyes, it was a fitful slumber.

[LystAP]

X'cinna's Gift - Goblet, Night Ravens House.

 

Cinna laid down upon her ‘bed’ within the confines of a secure corner she shared with Aria within the Ravens’ house. Nowadays, Aria spends her time wandering what the Outsiders called the Goblet, although Cinna suspects she ventures into the lands called Thanalan and the large Outsider settlement of Ul’dah on occasion. She stares at the spear granted to her by the Outsider, Evangeline or ‘flower girl’ as she and Aria had come to call the eccentric Outsider, although she suppose it’s “Miss Primrose”now. The residence of the Ravens stinks of alcohol, perfume, rot and other unusual smells, although the former is not wholly unwelcome. Cinna has been drinking her way through the Ravens’ alcohol stores, and has been relatively unsatisfied with their potency; the large Outsider supposedly has a more potent collection, but Cinna has been unable to discover her stores, if there are any. At the very least, Cinna has started trying to recognize the symbols on the beverages as a means of discerning their likely alcoholic potency, it was far better than lazying about like a sluggish drake. The best drinks tended to have the word, ‘Limsa’ somewhere on the container, while those of ‘Gridiana’ have wider variety. The local brew from ‘Ul’dah’ varies widely as well, although most of it either tastes like swill or is overly flavorful. There were some bottles from “Ishgard”, a name Cinna recognized as the Outsider settlement closest to her homeland, of which her sept often raided wayward caravans originating or bound for the settlement.

 

She lazied swirls a bottle in front of her, another bottle of what Miss Primrose called ‘Rotgut’ from ‘Limsa’. This was the drink favored by the large Outsider and is one of the few drinks potent enough to overwhelm her. Cinna took a swag of the bottle, “Ahh~”, her ears perk up as the alcohol took effect. She tried all of the different varieties of beverages within the house, tasted a variety of flavors and ‘proofs,’ a strange word. Cinna turns over on the bed, she tilted her head as her tail swirls about and wonders, why would anyone want to ‘prove’ something is a drink?  Her amber eyes reflected off the bottle as she ponders this question. She turned her body around once more and beheld her growing collection of used bottles and flasks, occasionally she returned a container once the Masked Outsider or others make a fuss about it, but otherwise she couldn’t be bothered. Cinna places the bottle besides her makeshift bed before rolling onto her back, her tail sprouting beneath her raised upwards, playfully jerking around as she focused on the blue tip of her tail. The image of Anista playing with Nikha’s tail came into mind as she fidgets with the ends of her tail, she yanks back as she accidentally squeezes it. “Ouch~” 

 

Cinna softly petted her tail as a means of soothing her brief mistake, before sighing and closing her eyes. After a few moments, she felt like she was floating amidst a strong current, “Did I drink too much again~,” Cinna wondered yet too lazy to open her eyes. She should be lying on her bed as she was a few moments ago, therefore this must be another dream - the floating feeling elicited by her drunken stupor, although she was sure that she didn’t drink that much yet. A light flashed before her eyes and Cinna opened them in alert, ‘Did Aria set the stove on fire again?’ she wondered as she tried to spring to her feet, yet her feet felt if they were flailing in mid-air. In a panic, Cinna looked around and beheld a vast open space, not unlike the sea yet darkening around the edges, ‘Did I really drink that much? Or did ‘Miss Primrose’ spike the drinks? I was so careful…~’ Cinna scanned the horizon for a landmark before sensing a bright light from above. Looking up, Cinna beheld a star shower, not unlike the shooting stars of her homeland, yet much closer than she had ever seen them. “What?~”, Cinna blinked before trying to avoid the oncoming meteors; however, she remained locked in place as the falling stars shoot past her. Hear. Feel. Think. A mysterious voice echoes in the distance… 

 

Cinna suddenly jerked up on her bed, she looked around and felt the softness of the blanket blow her, she glanced at the bottle besides her bed and frowned. 

[LystAP]

A vision of the past. A echo in time.

————

The wind howled as X’cinna Ares, of the Sept of the Falling Stars, stalked her prey.

 

An Outsider camp had brazenly established itself within the domain of the Nunh, thus, Warlord X’indro and his warriors were order to cut them down. They descended upon the camp in darkness, and set to work slaughtering the Outsiders. X’cinna was a lookout, assigned for the duty of pursuing any survivors. After a few minutes, screams could be heard coming from the camp as the Sept’s warriors set about their business. X’cinna tried to peer into the darkness of the camp, the torches smothered by the vanguard. All she heard were the screams of the Outsiders and the eager snarls of her siblings, “X’orri seems to be getting really into it,” X’cinna noted particular high pitched screams alongside a delighted snarl, indicative of her savage sister’s perspective of ‘fun.’ X’cinna’s ears flicker in multiple directions, trying to filter out the sounds from the camp in alert for those seeking escape. Soft pattering could be hear, X’cinna smiled coldly and turned to pursue…

—————

Roroyo didn’t know how much she cursed her fortune, but Twelve knew she cursed it often enough now. Her little lalafell feet pattered through the narrow canyon, while the sack of what possession and merchandise she had on her rattled on her back. She came to Eorzea to make a name for herself, to exploit the riches of this conflict-ridden, but relatively unexploited land. This was supposed to be a productive expedition, she and her business partners would journey into the unknowns of Xevlphatol, east of the reclusive city-state of Ishgard and strike it rich from the neglected mineral resources surely hidden beneath the tundra. They hired a few guards and headed north, confident of their success; Ishgard barely paid attention to what it considered the useless eastern tundra, neglected similarly also by heretics and dragons alike. Her eyes shifted left and right as she ran, her Lalafellin ears catching the sound of rustling bushes, the wind or a ‘pursuer’? Roroyo kept running.

—————

Peered at the tiny tracks, a child? Foolish Outsiders, bringing their children to the wilds, away from their fortified settlements. Perhaps she should capture it as prey for the older kittens, X’cinna grinned. Like a shadow, she stalked the ‘?child?’ through the canyon, catching a glimpse of a small figure zigzagging from boulder to bush. Eventually she recognized some familiar geographical formations, and a savage smile came over her, as a predator cornering her prey. She was a shadow, shifting from cover to cover, stalking her untrained prey, more so out of amusement. She briefly exposed herself as the ‘child’ glanced back and beheld the latter’s widened eyes of terror. At last the ‘child’ ran into a crevice and X’cinna pounced, thrusting her spear at the ‘child’s’ throat…

—————

Roroyo cried as the spear pressed against her neck, her extended family flashing before her eyes. “Wait! Can’t we cut a deal!” She prayed in her heart that this savage somehow understood a measure of the Common dialect. “Hmm, deal?” the miqo’te’s eyes narrow, like a predator judging the value of its prey. “I… I can show you things! I have merchandise! I can give to you!,” the miqo’te stared at her before her face broke into a predatory grin. “Alright, show me, ‘child.’” Roroyo noted how the savage addressed her, but did not dare correct the miqo’te, if she thought her a child, maybe the savage will be more lenient. Roroyo looked in her sack and despaired…. She had grabbed most of their rum supplies in haste and had forgotten most of her alchemical potions back in the fallen camp. In despair, she quickly pulled out a bottle and chugged it down, perhaps it would dampen the pain from when the savage would pierce her body with that jagged spear. “Hmm? What’s that your drinking at a time like this?,” the savage purred inquisitively. “Ah. Try some. Miss.” Roroyo offered the bottle.

—————

X’cinna frowned at the spiced beverage being offered to her by the ‘child’, however, curiosity piked her interest. She swiped the beverage from the ‘child’s’ hands and proceeded to chugged it down. Suddenly, the world melded and sifted around her as she felt a warmth in her body. The ‘child’ remained standing where she was, cornered, although backing up slightly against the wall. Poison? Nay, the ‘child’ drank some and her cheeks only turned slightly red. However, a strange, indescribable feeling warmed X’cinna as the wind from the canyon chilled her back and tail. She drank some more… as the ‘child’ pulled out another bottle from the latter’s sack and chugged it as well. “See…. not…. poison…. drink…. ssssspiced … rrrrrum,” the ‘child’ started to slur. X’cinna suddenly felt a strange sense of comradeship with this ‘child’, a indescribable feeling for a Warrior of the Sept. “Ahh… this beverage… you have more?”, X’cinna inquired.

————

Roroyo fell back into sobriety as her merchant instincts seized on the savage’s inquiry. While it is unlikely this miqo’te would have any gil, Roroyo valued her life and sought to leverage her chances of survival. “Ah yes. I have more. Lots more!,” Roroyo explained to the slightly flushed miqo’te. “I can give them to you… if you let me go?” Roroyo desperately inquired. The miqo’te glanced at the rum bottle in her hand and her spear planted in the ground on the other, “Or I can kill you and take the rest of the beverages,” the miqo’te purred. Oh no! Roroyo recoiled in horror, “Please wait, I… I can teach you about all different kinds of drink… all different kinds of beverages,” she desperately proposed. “Oh, there are more drinks as such? Beyond what lies in that sack?”, “Yes, good miss! There is a realm of liquid delights awaiting all who seek it!” The miqo’te look thoughtful, bringing up the spiced rum bottle to her nose and sniffing at it once more, her ears flickering as her white-furred but blue-tinged tail swished behind her. “How about…”

————

The remains of the camp were illuminated by the morning sun, naught but ruins and massacre left as Warlord X’indro’s warriors celebrated their victory. Two tias collected anything that appeared to be written documents, while some of the warriors amusing themselves with their prey, while others eagerly picked up shiny and pretty trinkets. A few warriors were gathered around Warlord X’indro as he dramatically read from a plundered Outsider text, the warriors were clapping and swishing their tails, as he dramatically gestured. He stopped as he noticed X’cinna returning to camp, a large sack held over her shoulder. “Ah, X’cinna. You return from pursing prey?” He smirked at her. “Indeed, Warlord. I have returned with spoils!”, “Hmm? What did you do with the prey?”, “Oh. I ate it.”, X’cinna nonchalantly replied. “Of course, but it’s only been a few since the sun emerged. You sure are gluttonous to have finished your prey so quickly,” Warlord X’indro smirked as the other warriors gather around him chattered.

 

“Warlord, such displays are beneath me. I merely sampled what interested me, as you do with your trinkets,” X’cinna retorted. “Mph. Outsiders have interesting works of words. The Nunh has always expressed interest in their knowledge, despite their weaknesses. I am merely immersing myself in their ideas,” X’indro pompously countered. “Do such ideals typically involve two tias Blessing each other, Warlord?,” “I know not what you speak of, Warrior X’cinna,” X’indro glanced at X’cinna and looked over to her sack. “Now, what trinkets do you have to share? I hope it was worth the trouble of carrying it back.” X’cinna’s ears fluff and her tail raises in pride, “Of course, Warlord. I brought back enough for all of the war band to partake! I also learned some interesting things from the prey before I finished it. I shall tell you….”

————

The carriage rolled on south towards Camp Dragonhead, within a bundle of blankets could be seen shivering. The carriage driver looked over his shoulder at the bundle, “It’s rather fortunate we found you Miss. You would have been food for the Fury knows what out there. Fortunately, we almost to Camp Dragonhead. House Fortemps is accepting of foreigners and from there you can find another chocobo caravan to take you south to Gridiana.” The bundle opened and two big eyes glanced at the driver, both in gratitude and weariness, “Thank… you, Ser.” “No problem, Miss. I would say… it’s the first time I encountered one of you lalafells and you seem contrary to the rumors about your folk,” the driver responded, “Ah. No offense, Miss.” Roroyo looked up from her bundle and gave a tired smile, “None taken. I just want to go home.”

 

The driver smiled at the cute lalafellin face, “What were you doing all the way up here? You’ll be trespassing on Ishgardian land if you pl…. Nay, I suppose   it wouldn’t matter now, by how you look.” Roroyo frowned and shook her head, her dark greenish hair messed up, “These lands are… not for the likes of me and my kin.” Roroyo looked up at the roof of the carriage: she had lost her business partners, her guards, her merchandise and alchemical material. However, that savage miqo’te didn’t seem interested in the gil she was carrying, but was focused on the rum supplies she inadvertently salvaged. The miqo’te left her enough supplies to survive for a few suns, and pointed her in the general direction of Ishgard. Roroyo hugged her blankets further, “I should have never left Thavnair,” she mumbled.

————

 

When the warriors of the Southern Defense returned to the Home Sept, they reeked of spices and concoctions. Their state lead to a brief scandal within the Sept as warriors and tias drunkly shifted through captured supplies for more of the beverages. Nevertheless, the Nunh was amused, so it worked out. Roroyo sold her remaining assets, and returned home to Thavnair, opening a brewery specialized in Eorzean beverages. X’cinna never forgot the lessons taught to her by the ‘child’, and sought to sample many different beverages in her sept’s actions against Outsider intruders. However, occasionally she did wonder how that ‘child’ would have actually tasted…