Fate Will Find You [story]

[Teardrop]

"The ore sings to me, my kin, and this lode is belting out the mother of all power-ballads..."

 

Beneath the surface of Eorzea, on the night that ends an Era

 

 

The rope she held yanked twice, once, then twice again; her signal to go.

 

"They're there, Pin.  Mind the rope."   She tossed the woven length onto the lap of the duskwight youth sitting beside her, not that she was a great deal older than he.  This rope, referred to by the clan miners as "Nymeia's apron-string", snaked back from the lead elements of the dig all the way through to the excavation base camp.  It was a line of communication, a way for messages to be relayed through the distance and din associated with mining operations, their link to the topside world.  Some would ask why a linkpearl wasn't used for such things, and though sometimes the winding twists and falls of the subterranean landscape would interfere with successful pearl transmissions, the REAL reason was a linkpearl would not lead searchers to your body should a cave-in occur.  The "apron-string" was clan tradition, who's members knew the difference between casual contact with the line and a vital call, knew the codes involved with the tugs, and knew when it was a pulling to put them into action.  "Don't slack off, Pin " she said in a mock-gruff tone, flicking the ear of the boy who had become the custodian of the cord, then reaching down to grab her shoulder-bag.  Without another word, Isobeau Mauvaix headed for the mouth of the mine shaft.

 

The passage she entered was filled with the usual flurry of mining-related activity.  She ran into the clan's following crews first, expanding and bracing the excavation's walls against collapse.  As she traveled further into the depths, the tunnel contracted quickly, the work-space becoming more and more restricted.  They were following the path of a natural fissure, one that had remained unexplored due to the unsteady seismic conditions of the surrounding area.  There were some areas where the crack opened into larger spaces, but the last large cavern along the path was the one her Pere had set up the clan's base, and most of the toil beyond it was done in claustrophobic conditions.  Isobeau did not mind such close proximity to the rock, however, as she always drew great comfort from the sensation of solid stone at her back.

 

Soon, the tunnel was small enough as to only allow a single person to crawl through comfortably.  She moved along in a purposeful scurry, squeezing past piles of temporary shoring timber, buckets of excavated rock awaiting removal, guttering oil lanterns, or other clan miners working to further expand the way.  In these cases, it was simply a matter where there was no place for modesty, and she moved past as she could, often up and over the impending obstacle.

 

"Uhnn...when are you going to fill out that frame, fille?  Yer all pointy elbows and bony pelvis OOF!!!"

"Don't forget sharp knees" she said dryly, sliding the remainder of the way over the miner's now-fetal form.  It was a cousin; he would forgive her.  Probably.

 

She crawled and clawed her way at last to the vanguard of the dig, a place where the crevice was so small that it would barely fit her father and his foreman, and then only as they lay in-line foot to head.  Isobeau's Pere glanced around his shoulder down the passage at the sound of her approach, and gave her a wink.

 

"Ooh, the echos of this lode's been crooning to me for a time, girl, and yer about to get a front-row seat.  Get yerself up here now, lets go."  It is well known and acknowledged by most other races the exceptionable caliber of the duskwight's hearing, honed and refined through ages of survival adaptation below ground.  Many thought that Isobeau's Pere could hear the very resonance of the ore itself, its deviation from the surrounding rock, and was thus able to track and locate lodes with great success. This was a rumor he did not work too hard to squash (indeed, even propagated it quite often himself).  Isobeau wasn't sure about that, though she did know that all who dwelt beneath the surface of Eorzea perceived the voice of Hydaelin to some degree.

 

Isobeau wormed past the foreman (an uncle, father to the very same cousin who up-tunnel was only just shaking off the effects of her striking patella), working herself forward until she lay face to face with her father as they lay on their sides...being all the room they possessed at the moment.

 

"Ahead a way lay a cavern, girl, and that's where we aim to be.  But me and Vim here can't make it through any further.  I want you to get in there and take stock of what we got.  Knock some down and toss it around and see what you can make of it...oh, I'll tell you now its'a right lovely chorus beyond that crack, Izzy.  Take my ears if I'm wrong.  Off now, get in there." Isobeau's Pere smiled, giving her a light swat on the hip to send her on the way.

 

To say an elezen was small was always a bit of an odd statement, for even the most petite of their race stood as large as a good-sized hyur.  But Isobeau was thin and lanky, and even being in her mid-teens could squeeze through into places the majority of her kind could not.  

 

Squeeze she did then, making her way in some places by fractional twitches of shoulder blades and heals propelling her glacially forth, shoulder bag pushed by outstretched arms before her, hands scrambling for any purchase to assist in the pull forward.  Isobeau's Pere had tied Nymeia's apron-string to her ankle as she had slid past, and the girl felt the slight resistance to her forward progress it gave as if she were dragging along a recalcitrant roegadyn.  Then her bag fell away, and her hands felt nothing.  Isobeau twisted onto her stomach, and used her tired and scraped arms to pull upon the edges of the opening, speeding her progress immensely.  In moments, she was sliding head-first down a small decline to the bottom of a cavernous space.  Quickly freeing her ankle from the trailing line, she yanked the appropriate signal to notify the others of her arrival, then set herself to the task at hand.  

 

Her first thought was to light, but she found that she was able to see quite well within the cavernous space.  Underground luminescence was not a common thing, but was encountered on occasion, and Isobeau welcomed the soft blue glow of the space emanating from a fissure that carried on at the far side of the cave, rather than question it.  She quickly freed from their confines within the shoulder bag the miniaturized tools of her trade; a light pick, a hammer, portable crucible with aetheryte heat-source, small spade, etc.  Spotting the likeliest spot for good ore within the walls of this cavern would have been a simple matter for even those with little background in mining, because, as she took in her surroundings in greater detail, the entire cavern seemed to be set within a lode of the purest rose gold.  A quick sample proved to her that this was indeed the case...this was ore of a higher quality than any she had worked before.  The duskwight teen quickly scrambled up to where she had entered the cavern, calling back town the tunnel to relay her findings to her waiting pere.  Isobeau couldn't see him, but she heard the pleasure in his voice.

 

"Heh, the ore sang, and I came.  Yank hard, Vim, get the crews moving faster.  This will be a night that changes the lives of us all."

 

Nymeia spins her wheel of fate...

 

 

Upon the face of Eorzea, events were simultaneously coming to a climax for thousands upon thousands of others locked in epic struggle at a location known as Carteneau Flats. The skies were filled with fire, and the trail of destruction wrought by the newly-unleashed Bahamut pummeled the surface above. As noted before, Hydaelyn spoke volumes to those who knew how to listen, and as the rumbling havoc scorched its way across the landscape, the voice of the world below screamed one thing; pain.  The clan miners heard the cry and instinctively wrapped their available wrist or ankle around Nymeia's apron-string...this was what it was there for, after all.  But though the level of destruction was not of the level to end all life on Eorzea, it was of sufficient power to set off enough seismic activity to put an end to theirs...

 

When the rescue finally made its way through the cave-ins, collapsed timbers, and broken bodies of her clan, following the guide rope into what had been the now greatly-reduced cavern of rose gold, they found Isobeau had been dead for some time... or at least gave the initial appearance of such.  Her body said otherwise, however; a flicker of life remained within.  As the lead duskwight huddled above her, bathed in the strange orange light emanating from further down the passage,  he called back to the rest of the rescuing team.

 

"This fille is still alive, to be sure.  Call back, we're going to need the apothecary after all...Nymeia has smiled upon this one." 

"Has she now..." reflected his companion.

 

The Weaver's wheel turns to the present...

 

'The best way to measure your skill is to weigh your wares against the competition', she thinks to herself, strolling casually among the busy booths and kiosks of Ul'Dah's market ward. 'How unfortunate the competition is predisposed to not even entertain the thought of a willing comparison with my kind.'  The duskwight saunters over to the largest of the jewelry monger's stalls, cases displaying the latest and finest creations from some of the finest goldsmiths in the city.  'Ah well, wouldn't want to ruin their expectations...lets see what's on display.'  Isobeau Mauvaix cracks a silent half-smile to herself as she shoulders past the hulking hellsguard standing sentry and enters the goldsmith's stand.

[Magellan]

((very impressive story, and I love the look of your DW!! My Wildwood's nickname is also Izzy ))

[Teardrop]

((very impressive story, and I love the look of your DW!! My Wildwood's nickname is also Izzy ))

Thanks :blush:  I guess I should have marked this as "OOC comments welcome", but I'm kinda new here...don't know the rules 

[Magellan]

((Maybe our two Izzy's will bump into each other someday. After your story I finally got inspired to start making a Wiki page!))

[Eva]

Oh since you mentioned that OOC comments were welcome, I just wanted to drop a little note here saying that...

 

 

...I loved reading this!!! Coming from another duskwight with a strong affinity towards Nymeia who actually has a similar sort of occurrance with something happening underground as a result of the Calamity, I thought it was just so awesome to read this. I particularly liked the concept of Nymeia's apron-strings as a sort of rescue device. I'm looking forward to reading more and maybe meeting Isobeau in game if you wind up on the Balmung server.

 

And as kind of a footnote, Isilme Turuphant goes by the nickname 'Izzy' as well! So much Izzy makes me dizzy? :dazed:

[Syggfryd]

That was quite an adventure! Very bold for the rescuers to go back into a collapsed mine right after such a destructive event above ground!

[Teardrop]

That was quite an adventure! Very bold for the rescuers to go back into a collapsed mine right after such a destructive event above ground!

As word of the destruction wrought by Bahamut's flight of terror upon the surface of Eorzea reached the surviving clan miners, relatives and mates of those trapped below, when faced with the choice to aid those who dwelt in the nearby town, or begin the hazardous excavation along Nymeia's apron string, the remaining Elezen of Clan Mauvaix spoke as one.

 

"We are Duskwight.  Rhalgr take the surface, there are clansmen to bring home  !"

[Syggfryd]

That was quite an adventure! Very bold for the rescuers to go back into a collapsed mine right after such a destructive event above ground!

As word of the destruction wrought by Bahamut's flight of terror upon the surface of Eorzea reached the surviving clan miners, relatives and mates of those trapped below, when faced with the choice to aid those who dwelt in the nearby town, or begin the hazardous excavation along Nymeia's apron string, the remaining Elezen of Clan Mauvaix spoke as one.

 

"We are Duskwight.  Rhalgr take the surface, there are clansmen to bring home  !"

Oh, you Duskwights! So loyal to each other...I may never understand you, but I sure as heck respect your kind.