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An Unusual Job [Closed]


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((Though I am the poster, I cannot take credit; this roleplay is being written in tandem and is co-authored by many members of Oschon at-Ta'ih.))

 

The loud hustle and bustle of the Drowned Wench never really seemed to cease. Which was generally a good thing, it was without a doubt the biggest hub for all the land-lubbers straight off the ferries from the mainland. They always needed something, an escort, advice, or a strong knock across the head. Whatever it was, the regulars of the Tavern were usually happy to oblidge them. Especially if it was the Latter.

 

As for why Goliam was there, well, it wasn't quite so jolly. He pushed his way through the door, wearing a thick blue long-coat that looked like it had gone a few rounds too many with an angry beasty of the tooth-mawed variety. His heavy boots thumped across the wooden floor as he went, his eyes locked on one particular table. One that was empty, and near the fire.

 

Before he could reach his seat, however, he was stopped by a bubbly Miqo'te waitress, wearing an overly frilly apron, and had just a bit-too-much spring in her step for Goliam's taste. "Welcome to the Drowned Wench, sir, what can I get for you?"

 

He stopped, looked at her sternly for a moment, "You can let me get to my damned seat first." the Roegadyn grunted to her.

 

The Miqo'te's ears drooping at bit from the rather harsh comment. "Oh, of course sir." She stepped to the side, and he took of his long-coat, pulled back the wooden chair, and sat down on it slowly, seemingly nervous of it potentially snapping under his weight. The entire time the waitress stood there nervously eyeing him. "..So-- errr--- what would you like, sir?"

 

"...Stew, and Ale, and not that watered down crap you give to the out-of-towners." he said flatly, not even bothering to look at her, instead keeping his eyes fixed on a rather soiled set of bandages wrapped about his left arm.

 

"Right away, sir!" she said happily, and quickly walked away, the spring in her step restored.

 

Goliam shook his head. "Miqo'te." As he waited he stared at his bandages, playing with them a bit. "Dozen damned, I think it's infected." he pulled them a bit tighter, then winced slightly. "Gonna cost even more to get that treated... Bloody Raptors."

 

"Looks like you have had a rough day," a high-pitched voice sounded at him from below the roegadyn's line of sight.

 

Peering down, he saw an bronze-skinned lalafell woman staring right back, a pleasant look upon her face. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

 

Goliam stopped and looked her over for a moment. "Where did you come from?" He pauses, and shrugs, seemingly disinterested in hearing the answer to his last question. "Eh-, take a seat, better you than another bloody swarm'a the Miqo'te."

 

"Do you have something against the Miqo'te?" the woman asked evenly as she pulled herself up into the accompanying chair across from Goliam. Sitting down, she was so small that only her neck and head could be seen popping up above the table's surface. Her face was caught in a mild smile, seemingly in thought.

 

"Though, 'swarm' might be appropriate," she continued absent-mindedly. "Classical studies have always surmised that the Miqo'te are fewer in number than what they seem to be. Especially in places like this."

 

"They breed faster than Rarabs." the Roegadyn said, his eyes ocassionally flicking down to his bandaged arm. "That, and they always seem to be up ter something, an' too damn cheerful."

 

He dragged his bandaged arm off the table as the waitress returned with his order. After setting down a rather gargantuan bowl filled to the brim with what looked like seafood stew, as well as an accompanying tankard, the waitress paused. She looked to the lalafell, and blinked, as if confused. "Can I get you something?" she asks after a moment or two of silence.

 

"No, I'm not here for that. But thank you," the Lalafell replied.

 

As the waitress shrugged good-naturedly and headed off to another table, the Lalafell took a deep breath through her nose, taking in the aroma of the Roegadyn's food before continuing. "I suppose you would like to ask me a similar question, yes?" she said.

 

Goliam just stared at her, shovelling a spoonful of the stew into his mouth, and chewing. His eyes still looking her over, he took his time, then finally swallowed and sighed. "Yeah, actually." he thrusts a thumb over at a group of people who were conversing rather loudly. All dressed in rather outrageous garb. "Exactly how fresh off the ferries *are* ya, and what is it exactly that you want?"

 

"If you are asking if I am a tourist or merchantwoman like the others here, I am sorry to say that I am not." The lalafell shrugged. "I am here to hire an escort. Specifically, you. I hope that you are not otherwise employed?"

 

Goliam nearly choked on the stew he was chewing on. "Specifically me?" he said, clearing his throat, and wiping his mouth with his hand. "I just finished a 'job' of a kind, but.. frankly I've got some business to attend to before I can do anything." He drags the tankard over to the edge, and takes a heavy swig from it. "Before I go turnin' ye down, though, what exactly are you needin' an escort for?"

 

The lalafell smiled. "It would be difficult to say, exactly, what the job is for, but... is it important? You appear to be the type that can handle danger."

 

He looked down at his arm once more, and gave a quick chuckle. "Suppose that'd be obvious." He gives her another fast look over, then goes back to his stew, still eating rather slowly. "I need to know three things first, before I agree." He raises one finger off of the spoonful of stew he was bringing to his mouth. "Firs', is it legal." He paused and chewed for a moment, but spoke before finishing, "Secon', where exactly are ye goin'." The Roegadyn swallows, and wipes his mouth again. "Do I 'ave some time to run a few errands, I just got off a job."

 

"All of that depends on you, roegadyn," the lalafell replied. "I am not taking you anywhere; it is you who will be taking me."

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Goliam's brow furrowed. "Uh-huh, an' where exactly do you want me to be taking you."

 

"Wherever it is that you wish to go." The lalafell nodded knowingly as the roegadyn stared at her. "Yes, I know that doesn't make any sense now, but what I am asking for is permission to follow you."

 

His brow still furrowed, he looked about, as if he was expecting a table full of people to be trying to hide hysterical laughter at the situation, but after a moment, looked back. "Care t' share WHY yer wantin' to follow me?" He takes a heavy swig from his tankard, "Or is it jes' for my obvious charm 'n wit?"

 

"Of course, I will explain it, if you wish," she answered, reaching to her belt and untying a small cloth pouch. Straining to reach over the top of the table, she suddenly dumped its contents out. Twelve cut stones of various sizes and luminosity spilled onto the wooden table, making a loud clatter as they hit and drawing the attention of nearby parties.

 

Paying no mind to the multiple pairs of eyes now drawn to her, she slowly surveyed the stones. "See," she said simply. "The blue is the only one that came up spirit. Like your coat."

 

"That's a rather vague divination." Goliam said, loudly tossing his spoon into the now emptied bowl of stew. "Can' be the only one wearin' blue in here."

 

"Actually, you are," she said, pointing around. "And even if there were, I know you're the right one to follow. I saw it in a dream."

 

The Roegadyn leaned back into his chair, and sighed, rubbing his chin for a moment. "Goin' ter guess yer somethin' of a mystic." He leaned forward, and looked at the small stones, picking one up. It didn't seem to change at all as he turned it, as if it wasn't even reflecting light. "Alrigh', whats your name, little Mystic," he said, with a tone that sounded as if he had resigned his resistance against the strangeness of the situation.

 

"My name is Monadi." She began scooping the stones back into the bag, struggling to reach the ones that had tumbled to the roegadyn's side of the table. "And yours?"

 

He shoved the few stray stones toward her. "It's Goliam, Goliam Cygrus." He raises a hand, and the waitress makes her way over. "Jes' so ye know, I'll be expectin' you to at least hold your own if you're goin' to follow me."

 

Monadi pulled the last remaining stones into the bag. "I am trained some in magical combat, if that's what you mean."

 

"Not quite." he said, sliding a few coins to the waitress without bothering to look. "I'm used to most of th' people I escort bein' about as useful in combat as an armless Miqo'te." The waitress's tail bristled a bit at the comment as she left the table. He gives a quick glance in her direction and chuckles. "Come, Little one, I've got a couple of stops to make."

 

Monadi enthusiastically hopped off the chair, seemingly pleased to be moving again. "Lead the way then, Goliam."

 

The pair made their way out of the Drowning Wench, and began working their way through the crowded streets of Limsa-Lominsa. Goliam was making something of a large wake as he walked, giving the little lalafell quite a bit of room to hustle behind. "I've got an injury I need taken care of." he said, barely bothering to make sure she was keeping up with him.

 

Tottering along quickly behind him, Monadi seemed slightly wowed at the size of the roegadyn, stretching out her arms to measure the large shadow she was walking in that stretched out behind him. "You'll have to forgive me, I did not ask about your arm. What happened?" The question was met with notable silence, however, and she resolved herself to be silent and observe for the moment.

 

The pair reached a rather ratty wooden building, with a heavily pock marked and worn sign reading "Medical Clinic" over it. Goliam shouldeed his way through the heavy door without a word, which screeched in protest as they went through. The clinic, despite it's terrible outside appearance, was actually rather clean and well organized. A small desk sat near the entrance, with a bespectacled male Elezen sitting at it.

 

"Ah-- Mister Cygrus, I trust you've been sufficiently injured to be bothering me..." the Elezen, who was most likely the doctor, said pointedly, not looking up from a stack of papers in front of him.

 

"You could say that." Goliam replied, lifting his bandaged arm.

 

The doctor looked up, and pushed the glasses further up onto his nose as he looked. "That will do." He motions to a seat near a rather intimidating tray filled with tools, and jars with various fluids in them. As he made his way over, he noticed the lalafell. "Take a seat, would you?" the Elezen doctor said as he began picking up the tools, dipping them into a jar of clear fluid. "It's not wise to let your escortees see you being injured, you know."

 

"I'd not really call this a usual escort job." Goliam said, looking over at her after hefting his arm up, and beginning to work loose the bandages. "Besides, it's tingling, an' I do recall you sayin' that meant to come get it disinfected."

 

"Indeed." the doctor responded, finally opening the bandages all the way, revealing a heavily stained and crusty set of teeth marks. "Do I even want to know what happened?"

 

"Some damn fool 'scientist' from Gridania hired me to go take a gander at the wild-life." Goliam replied, his voice a half-growl as the doctor began dabbing a medicated cloth on the wounds. "He kept 'alf a cured steak in his damn bag an' didn't expect 'em to be attracted to it."

 

Shaking her head slightly, Monadi found an unobtrusive corner of the room to stand in. For a moment she listened intently to the two talk, curious to have her ignored question answered, before chanting a short prayer under her breath.

 

"Hold still, this is going to sting." the doctor said, pulling out a small syringe filled with a grey-green liquid, and stabbing it into his arm.

 

"GOD'S BALLS!" Goliam screeched, nearly jumping out of the chair.

 

"I told you it was going to sting." the doctor said icily.

 

"You said STING, that hurt worse than th' raptor's bite." Goliam roared back.

 

"Quit your whining, you're a grown man." he said, and began sewing up the larger wounds. "Besides, it was heavily infected, it would hurt much worse if it started rotting all the way through." The Roegadyn's teeth were clinched as the doctor continued his work.

 

Monadi nearly chuckled, breaking the rhythm of her chanting. One eye slowly took in the image of Goliam, obviously racked with pain, before she began again, doubling her efforts.

 

"I assume you were at least paid well for your efforts?" the doctor asked, cleaning his tools off and watching Goliam as he flexes his arm, testing the strength of the stitches.

 

"...Not even, the little rat scuttled the escort, and paid me a quarter of what he owed me."

 

"Not even enough to cover the twelve shots I used with my pistol, let alone this."

 

The doctor paused, and turned back to Goliam, giving a cold look. "I hope that doesn't mean you'll be trying to put this on a 'tab'."

 

Goliam shook his head, and grinned. "Not a big enough of a fool to try and pull that over you." He pulled out his coin-purse and poured out a roegadyn-sized handful, setting it onto the doctor's desk. "Thanks for the help, doc." He began to put his longcoat with the heavily tattered sleeve back on and motioned to Monadi. "Unless you're needing to be patched up, little one, we're done here."

 

Monadi opened her eyes again, abruptly cutting off her chant and reaching for her stone purse. She slipped in a hand and pulled one of the stones partially out before slipping it back in and closing the purse again. "So it seems," she nodded agreeably. "Off we go then."

 

"Yar." he replied, pushing his way through the loudly squeaking door. "You'll 'ave to pardon my earlier rudeness," he called back to her as they make their way down the streets once more. "I was expectin' an easy escort, especially when m'card reading came up so positive. Instead, I get a chewed arm an' less money than I started with."

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Goliam pushed aside a pair of Hyur who seemed to be too focused on chatting than watching where they were. "Anyway, you needin' some supplies before we head out of th' city?" he continued.

 

"You haven't mentioned where we are going yet, so how would I know what I need?" she replied with a sly smile.

 

"Gridania." he said flatly, "Goin' to 'ave to head to Ul'dah first, unless yer fond'a six weeks of mountain trekking."

 

"Ul'dah..." Monadi mused. "No, I doubt I will have need of much there. We are taking a boat?"

 

"Swimmin'll take too long." Goliam replies, a grin on his face. "There's almost always a few ships headin' there, may 'ave to sign on a merchant ship or somethin' if yer short on the money."

 

"I am not afraid to work for passage; that is always how I pay for my travels. One who does not work often is sick of both mind and body."

 

"Good." the roegadyn replied, as he continued to trudge his way down the street, the cobbled roads beginning to slowly give way to dirt, and the inhabitants looking less and less friendly to travellers. "Even if I had th' money, I'm not really inclined to payin' yer way."

 

Monadi shook her head. "Nor would I expect you to, Goliam. I am not meant to be a burden to you." She paused for a moment, then asked, "You mentioned earlier that you had a divination performed for you that was not accurate. Do you seek such guidance often?"

 

"All the time." he says, scanning the area they were passing through. "Ah." He makes a quick turn, and goes down a small alley where a man stinking heavily of ale and urine was sleeping in the middle of. "Don' really do any risky ventures without gettin' m'fortune told, or a divination of some sort." He said as he stepped over the drunkard. "I'm'a sailor, we tend ter be a bit on th'... superstitious side."

 

The pair continued to make their way through the alley, finally emerging from it, now in a very, very busy dockyard. The smell of fish, though a constant presence in Limsa-Lominsa, was overwhelming, even for Goliam. As they went, the constant whirling business of the Docks seemed to draw their eyes. Balkers, looking to buy, or sell various goods were yelling. In a corner, a group of sailors were playing dice. "Charmin' isn't it?" Goliam asks, before anyone can respond, a shout is heard from the group of dice players. "YE WEE CHEATIN' ARSE-WEASEL!", followed by a loud gunshot. No one in the dock even seemed to notice.

 

"Was the one you sought it from, then, someone you have used before?" she questioned curiously. "It is not often that a good diviner would be so incorrect with something as straightforward as your last job's success."

 

"It's a bit 'ard to find th' same mystic, they come an' go in this city, jes' like every'n else." The roegadyn's boots making a loud 'thump' with each step on the wooden boardwalk that lead to the docked ships. "An' I can't afford th' ones that're set up in more permanent venues."

 

"A shame, then. You appear to have been swindled." Monadi frowned disapprovingly. "So many looking to make money on a sensitive trade. Fortunately, your days of such problems are over, as you are free to make use of my gift whenever you need. Or anything else that I might do for you. Such as your arm."

 

"Tha' was the plan." Goliam said, stopping in-front of a ship that looked to be loading cargo onto it. "As fer th' magic, I generally prefer t'not rely on it, myself." He looks the ship over, and then cups his hands over his mouth. "OI, WHERE YOU LOT HEADED?" One of the sailors set down the case he was carrying, and walked closer to them. "Ul'dah, why, you lookin' ter book passage, or summat?"

 

"Aye." Goliam replied, "Dependin' on how much yer lookin' ter charge, though I'm more'n happy to work yer way over if that's how we're doin' it." He thrusts a thumb at the Lalafell. "She's a mystic, if you lot are in need'a one of their services."

 

The sailor cocked an eyebrow, "...Oh aye, always 'ave use of one'a those. I'd 'ave to ask Barrow, though, not'm place to make big decisions."

 

Monadi looked pleased. "I hope this Barrow is agreeable," she remarked, looking over the ship with an observant eye.

 

The sailor barked towards the quarter deck, "Mistress Barrow, ma'am, may have some bodies to fill the rosta.'"

 

A male voice could be heard from out of view. "Good gods, Qillag, must you shout like that? We haven't even left port and I'm feeling sick."

 

"Apologies, Master Barrow. Should I have them come aboard, ma'am?"

 

A female voice replied, "Send them up, Qillag, and don't mind my brother."

 

Qillag looked down to the docks. "A'ight you two, look lively," he said, waving them up.

 

Making his way across the rickety gang-plank, Goliam straightened his tricorne, pushed his shoulders back as he made his way into the room. " 'Hoy." he said flatly as he tipped his hat to the two people. "I'm Goliam Cygrus, 'eard you were lookin' for two more hands for the ship."

 

"And my name is Monadi." The lalafell inclined her head slightly.

 

The two hyur were sitting behind a table with a log book and several maps and navigation equipment on it. A male was leaning back in his chair with moist cloth over his face, and the female dressed in semi-formal attire looks to be of the Knights of Barracuda. "Alita Barrow, and you'll have to forgive my brother. Keletin is not feeling well." Keletin give a half-hearted wave, keeping the cloth on his face. "So, Monadi, what can you do on board ship?"

 

"Your crewmen indicated that you might be able to make use of a mystic aboard ship." Monadi untied her pouch of divining stones from her belt, then took a few out for display in her outstretched hand. "I have been told that sailors are a superstitious lot, yes?"

 

Goliam's face grew into a bit of a scowl. 'Yer not supposed ter SAY it.' he thought to himself.

 

Alita smiled, scribbling notes into the log. "A mystic would certainly be a welcome presence especially for a maiden voyage."

 

"Especially if a woman's the captain," Goliam mumbled to himself, feeling a bit on edge. "A maiden on a maiden voyage... 12 be damned."

 

Alita began to laugh. "Even I wouldn't be foolish enough to be on a maiden voyage, no I'm merely overseeing my fathers interest. My duties keep me to the port here. Captain Mathias will oversee the voyage."

 

"75 Gil, bedding, food and passage," Alita continued to Monadi. "Will that be satisfactory?"

 

"I personally have no need of the gil, but the rest is quite generous," Monadi replied. "Thank you for the opportunity."

 

Goliam lifted his hand, "I would prefer to be paid, however."

 

"Excellent," she accepted, turning the roster to face Monadi. "Make your mark, And you, Goliam, what skills can you bring to the ship?"

 

"Born on a ship, worked and lived on a ship since I was of age." He smiles, and pulls the tip of his tricorne a bit lower. "Worked damn near any position but navigator, includin' cook. An' shot more than m'share of rats doin' any skullduggery." he added, patting the left side of his coat. A muffled metallic clunk is heard from it.

 

"I also meant no disrespect, Ma'am, just seen what bad luck c'n do to a ship." he adds.

 

Keletin piped up, "Great sis, your faith in superstitions makes me feel all that much better!"

 

"Nervous sailors make mistakes," Goliam said.

 

"Luck favors the prepared," Monadi mused as she scribbled on the roster.

 

Ignoring them all, Alita offered to Goliam, "I think the quarter master could use someone like you. 130 Gil standard crewman rate. Satisfactory?"

 

"Aye, that'll be jes' fine." he said, nodding as he scrawled his name onto the page sloppily.

 

"Qillag will show you below. You'll be sailing with the tide." She turned to Keletin. "Give father my best, I'll see you in 3 months. May Llymalaen give you smooth seas, brother."

 

"She just better get me to land! Rock solid LAND!" Keletin exclaimed.

 

"I'll find 'im." Goliam nodded, and began to make his way out, waving for Monadi to follow. "I trust you'll be alright without me keeping an eye on you?" he asked as they made it across the deck. "Oi! Where's Qillag?" he called out to the sailors around before moving in the direction they indicated.

 

"Of course, Goliam. This is not my first time aboard a ship." She smiled mildly. "Though I did not ask for you to watch after me, you know. Just to allow me to follow."

 

"Very well, time to go stow our things... it's going to probably take around a week or so to get to Ul'Dah."

 

"I'd plan for a bit longer," she mumbled, putting a few stones back into her pouch.

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Goliam stared out at the steel grey clouds that clogged the skies from horizon to horizon. Until a few hours ago, everything had been going swimmingly. The days were passing without any major trouble, save nearly having to shoot a rather tricky Highlander who was playing with loaded dice.

 

"I don' like th' look of those skies." said one of the sailors nervously, surveying the weather.

 

"Aye, an' the little mystic foresaw we'd be havin' trouble, guess she was right." replied another.

 

"Stow your chatter, and get to making sure everything's in order, worryin' about it like some old maid's gettin' us nowhere." Goliam said with a growl as he began climbing the rigging. As he climbed, the winds began to whip wildly, nearly flinging him off. He tightened his grip on the ratline and climbed even further. All he could see were pitch black clouds ahead, and even to his back. Things were about to get rough.

 

"ALL MEN TO YOUR STATIONS!" roared the first mate. "IF YER NOT A DECKHAND, GET YER ARSE BELOW." Goliam began making his way back down.

 

"I can' SWIM!" yelled one of the sailors.

 

"Ye should've THOUGHT OF THAT before you picked this PROFESSION ya GIT." roared another back, barely audible through the winds.

 

Thunder cracked, and lightning tore through the sky. Waves began battering the massive boat, throwing even experienced sailors from their feet. Goliam clung tightly to the mast, barely able to see through the rain and wind.

 

Keletin found his way from his cabin to the main deck carrying a small metal bucket as he clutched the side rail. The sea spray a welcome relief to his queasy condition. The ship rocked violently as he used both hands to steady himself, quickly losing his bucket overboard.

 

---

 

"Roges, you better get up to the deck," Monadi told the young hyur sailor she'd been doing a reading for in a low voice. "There's trouble in the wind."

 

"The stones told you that?" Roges asked nervously?

 

"No. Be still for a moment." She closed her eyes. "The boat is rocking."

 

Roges swallowed hard. "What if we tip over and everyone dies?"

 

"Then you will meet the twelve a little early," she replied matter of factly, motioning him to the door.

 

She sighed as he left, relieved that she would not have to relay the stones' message after all. He would not have liked the answer; grey and black, both with the symbol of earth facing, was never a good message. Scooping them into her bag, she sat on the wooden floor and began to chant in time to the sound of waves crashing against the side of the vessel.

 

---

 

"BRACE THOSE DAMNED CANNONS!" roared the first-mate. Through the sea's spray and howling wind, Goliam tackled one of the nearby cannons, slamming it closer to it's port. Quickly doubling the ropes around the cannon and tying as hard as he could.

 

A young Hyur next to him was trying to do the same. "I KNEW I SHOULD'VE STAYED BELOW WITH THE MYSTIC!" he shouted into the wind.

 

His voice was drowned out by a loud cracking, the ropes of the cannon gave way, plowing over him with it's immense weight, and careening freely about the rocking ship. "LOOSE CANNON!" Goliam shouted, trying fruitlessly to run after it.

 

The gun suddenly slammed mere inches from Keletin, sending a massive spray of wooden splinters.

 

The merchant went limp, and slipped over the edge of the ship, falling into the seas. "GOD'S BLOOD, MAN OVER BOARD!" Goliam shouted. The first mate relaying his order, sending sailors scrambling for rope. He quickly pulled off his coat, and pulled his pistol from it's leather holster, and throwing it aside. He jumped onto the railing, the first mate quickly tying the rope around his waist. "KEEP A HOLD OF ME!" Goliam shouted, and jumped in. Fighting his way through the white foamy spray, he swam towards what little he could see of the merchant.

 

Keletin struggled with consciousness and staying afloat. His vision became blurry as blood from his head ran into his eyes and mixed with the seawater. Each breath was more like a drink, one that he did not want. "Is this how it ends?" floated through his mind as everything grew dark.

 

Goliam's arms burned from the strain as he fought his way through the sea, waves battering him to and fro. He continued for what felt like an eternity, but finally felt his hand grip the unfortunate merchant's shirt. He hefted him close, and tugged as hard as he could on the rope. "Stay with me boy." he growled to himself as he felt the tug of the rope as they were dragged through the water by the crew.

 

Eventually the crew managed to pull him up over the railing. He let the merchant down with a loud thump, and looked him over as well as he could through the sea-spray. He had a large gash on his head, and was looking rather pale.

 

"GET THE MYSTIC! NOW!" Goliam shouted the the sailors who were congregating around him.

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With the sailors that had come to fetch her all talking over the still-constant thunder, Monadi could not decipher what had happened exactly to whom. As she came on deck and her eyes settled on Keletin, however, she sighed heavily at the sight of him. The man had been on edge from the moment she'd arrived, as if he could sense there would be danger to himself. She was not surprised that it had come to pass.

 

Quickly she scampered over to Goliam's side and knelt over Keletin's body. "He is nearly gone," she told Goliam quietly. "Tell them all to back up; we will need space."

 

"GET BACK, NOW!" Goliam shouted over the roar of the storm. He swung his arms wide, several sailors who couldn't hear him being battered back. He jumped back as well.

 

The aether around Monadi's body began to glow lightly, growing in intensity as her mouth moved in time to a chanting prayer inaudible over the winds. As she continued, the aether took on a blue tint as it began to flow from her tiny fingertips that rested on Keletin's forehead into the ailing man's body until he, too, glowed faintly.

 

Slowly the gash began to mend, the skin stretching back over the open wound until there was only a scabbed line covered in rain-streaked blood remaining.

 

Her chanting slowed, and she stood up as the last traces of glow disappated into the thick air. She motioned to Goliam and the others to come to attend to him.

 

Goliam breathlessly walked over, nearly buckling from exhaustion. "The boy." he pointed towards the young Hyur lad who lay in a bloody heap. "Can.. you help the boy?"

 

"The boy..." she murmured, her eyes searching the deck where Goliam had pointed, then looking away again the minute she realized it was Roges. She shook her head. "He's beyond my capabilities," she murmered.

 

"See the body is cared for," Keletin voice carried a steady tone through the storm as he leaned on one of the crewman helping him to his feet.

 

Goliam breathed deep, and pulled himself back up, scooping his pistol up as he went, and shoving it back in it's holster. "Aye, sir." He looked out to the clouds, which, while still dark were far from the same pitch-black as a few minutes ago. "Worst parts over, lads, back to your positions!"

 

---------

 

The next morning, Keletin approached Goliam, looking much less pale. "The crew says you pulled me from a death with the sea?"

 

"Aye, sir." Goliam said, droping the rigging knots he was working on.

 

"Oh, please, call me Keletin. No need for formalities. It was a brave thing you did and there is no way I can truly repay you."

 

"Well thank ye." Goliam replied, taking his tricorne off, and wiping his brow. "I'm jes' did what I thought I could." His face gets grim for a moment, "Shame about the lad, I couldn't reach his cannon in time, but... that's the danger of the seas, I s'pose. I don' get all the credit, though, the little one, Monadi sealed your wound." he makes a gesture to the small cut that is still visible on his head. "Doesn' matter if I pulled you out or not, you'd be sailin' the eternal seas with the boy if not for 'er."

 

"Yes, I was looking for her as well," said Keletin, "but she wasn't below decks. I thought she may have come up."

 

Monadi tugged on the back of the roegadyn's blue jacket before popping around to talk. "Tall folk have trouble finding us sometimes," she offered good-naturedly and smiled. Noticable dark circles hung under the lalafell's sleepy eyes.

 

"Guessin' the crew's been running you ragged with predictions, mrh?" Goliam asked, a grin on his face.

 

"Mmm," she nodded. "And fear is a powerful motivator."

 

"Fairly sure if they were goin' ter die, they'd 'ave shared the fate of the Hyur boy." He sighed, and replaced his Tricorne.

 

"Well," Keletin interrupted, "I must thank you as well for a debt I will unlikely be able to repay." Monadi smiled and inclined her head slightly.

 

"If ye don' mind me askin'.. why's a man like you on a ship, anyway?" Goliam inquired, pausing before adding, "One who gets seasick, I mean. Don' seem the type who'd intentionally be going to sea."

 

Keletin began to chuckle but brought up a handkerchief clearing his throat. "I usually try to avoid it, but my father wishes to expand our trade with our own line of vessels. As you saw my sister is still with the Knights and it was perfect for her to manage the Limsa side. My father would over see Ul'dan and we could expand from there. Me, I prefer the open road a bit easier on the fortitude. Give me highwaymen or bandits to Gridania over a tempest any day."

 

Goliam's brow furrowed. "Gridania?" He gave a quick glance to his lalafell companion. "...You said ye run a a caravan TO Gridania?"

 

"Yes, sometimes even as far north as Gyr Abania if its during the warm season. I'll leave a day or two after we land just long enough to gather supplies and trade goods."

 

"The dawn does not come twice, Goliam," Monadi said, gently prodding the roegadyn in the leg with her elbow.

 

"Mmh." Goliam nodded knowingly to her, then turned back to Keletin. "..I think there's a way for you to pay us back." He straightened his tricorne, and gave a sigh. "We happen to be working our way to Gridania, you wouldn't happen to have some room for the two of us on your caravan, would you?"

 

"Do I have room?! I'd be delighted to have you both along!" Keletin exclaimed. "It's the least I could do."

 

"Then I think we've a deal, my friend."

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