SAACHI'S POST SECRET: MYSTERY PENPALS [OPEN]

[Xifang]

OOC: I have this on the Gilgamesh event page and on the Driftwood Coast home page as well. But you know what? She wants the world to feel smaller and so do I! Let's open this to everyone! Feel free to respond to this post with letters to Saachi and I will post as soon as I can with her response! You can post what you do when you find the letter (RP throwing it away, for instance, or finding it while running from the guards...) and also any response that you leave her! I will do the same in response.  This link has examples of letters I've received in the past: Original Post Secret

 

Locations of the letters that she left are:

 

 

UL'DAH <>

 

GRIDANIA <>

 

LIMSA LOMINSA <>

 

Each letter is slightly different. If you are curious about the differences you can see the contents of the hidden letters on the original post:

 

There's that link again!

 

She asks that you leave her letter at the inn of whatever starting zone city you are in and that in your letter, if you want her to reply, that you tell her where to leave your response. You do not have to make your identity known to her ICly if you do not want to!

 

[Knight Kat]

Kiht Jakkya stares curiously at the smelly piece of parchment she found under a pile of rocks. "Tsk! what a strange place to put a letter! Probably placed here by some crazy Elezen..." Kiht then reads the letter slowly as her reading skills are a bit below average.

 

"What is a Saachi?" Kiht asks herself. Kiht replaces the letter under the rocks. She was going to simply return to going about her business, but she suddenly feels compelled to respond to it. Driven by her innately strong sense of curiosity, she finds another piece of parchment and begins writing a response letter.

 

Written in sloppy, but still legible handwriting:

"Greetings, Saachi, I am... My name is not important. I found your letter under the rocks near the Botanists Guild. You do realize that it is starting to get moldy under there? I was able to smell it that way. Nature soon reclaims everything if given the chance...

 

If you left this letter to simply learn something random about random people then you have a stronger sense of curiosity than I do! Well, I decided to indulge you. I am a scout and huntress. I notice things that many others might overlook. That is one of the reasons why I found this letter.

 

Tell me Saachi, do you have family or friends? What lengths would you go through to keep them alive? Would you defy the twelve? Would you fight the very environment around you that you were raised in? Would you become something far greater than most in order to protect them? The answer may seem obvious and easy, but think about it. Many have said that they love their gods more than they love their family. Would they be wrong to do so?

 

Mayhaps you were not expecting such a heavy series of questions! Mayhaps I should just send you poetry! If you choose to respond to this letter, coat your response letter in something with a strong scent, and leave it somewhere outside the Blue Badger gate before Dusk. I -will- find it.

 

If you choose not to respond then Menphina guide your steps Saachi. Have a fair life."

[Xifang]

<>

 

Saachi found it hard to contain her excitement in general.Nothing like the usual stereotype of the dour, serious, composed Elezen she’d heard of, anytime Saachi felt an emotion she acted honestly upon it. Having a new letter to read always lifted her spirits, and that this one came from a brand new penpal made her heart soar! People were still finding her letters; people were still interested in them. They weren’t just throwing them away (well, ok, some were… but it didn’t seem to have happened in quite some time); they were reading them.

 

Her almost manic grin faltered only when she read the questions she was being asked and then only briefly as she questioned outloud: “...What lengths would I go to to keep the ones I love alive? Is this a threat? Am I going to be tested on this?” Was she about to blackmailed? Were her friends going to find themselves kidnapped, bound, gagged, beaten and demoralized all because she left a silly letter under a rock?

 

Reading on, she felt relief wash back over her as she was convinced that the letter writer had not actually meant to threaten her at all. “…Perhaps they’ve been through something themselves”, she wondered, curiously, “that would cause them to ask that?”

 

She pulled out her new quill. Her old one well beyond the point of writing lovely (or even legible) letters, she’d used a chunk of the last payment she’d received from work with the paladins of Ul’Dah to buy a particularly lovely quill and extremely nice ink in a, perhaps too ornate, bottle. This would be the first letter she tried them out on! She prepared herself for the inevitable ink splotches that came with writing with a new pen and settled herself in to the desk in her inn room.

 

 

 

“My perceptive friend,

 

You could smell the letter from a distance? That’s amazing!My father used to claim that I was particularly gifted, in part because I am his daughter and that is what doting fathers do and perhaps believe, and in part because I do seem to have particularly keen eyesight and hearing. My sense of smell, however, has always seemed somewhat dull to me. This comes as a blessing at times, I believe, as I’m often in situations where I do not think that having a great sense of smell would be of any real benefit to me (the smell of death, for instance, does not need to need to smell stronger). Other times I really regret it. For instance there are a number of lovely flowers in Gridania and if I could just open my window and smell them on a breeze I think that would be really wonderful. I would also find it fun to use a sense of smell to treasure hunt for more hidden letters! I think it is a really incredible skill that you have; did you have to hone that ability or were you born with it?

 

You’re right about nature. I’ve studied conjury a fair deal and those are a lot of the lessons that are taught there, but I actually believe that your one sentence said it much better than an entire book I read on the matter once! Perhaps you should consider teaching or writing your own book!

 

How far would I go? Well, you’re right that I can’t know until I’m in the situation. Of course I want to say: “Anything and everything!” and at the moment I actually believe it. But I look back on ways that I have sometimes treated both my friends and my family and I can’t help but feel somewhat guilty and doubtful of my convictions. Still, I want to believe that I’d sacrifice it all for them.

 

Or maybe I want to believe that I’d do everything in my power to help them while staying alive. Sometimes it seems to me that saying “I’d martyr myself” is almost too easy. Sometimes it’s much harder to say “I’d save them all and stay alive in the process”.  When someone dies that is sort of the end of their responsibility, isn’t it. The burden of living is then left on the people they left behind. If I just casually threw myself to the flames as my first thought for saving them, they might go on living and blaming themselves for my decision. I’m maybe getting too philosophical to your question.

 

Would I defy the Twelve? I don’t know the answer to this either. But I do wonder what lengths I wouldn’t go to for love and my beliefs. If the extent of my love and convictions far outweighed my devotion to the Twelve… well, there might be a problem there right from the start, but yes, I’d probably defy them.

 

As for fighting against my environment? It’s much too long a story for now (and perhaps too dull?) but I feel like I’ve already done that. And, yes, I’d continue to do so. There are moments at night when I’ve extremely lonely and I feel very small and sad and I wonder “should I have done that?”, but my determination to keep moving on and living my life the way I chose is far louder than the regrets. I think I made the right choice.

 

I do want to become stronger. It’s nearly an obsession tome. I’ve studied to become a paladin as well as one who casts white magic and I do it because I want to push myself. I want to be someone who not only talks about how things need to be done in this world to make it better, but because I want to do something about it. I want to be a shoulder to lean on for the weary. I want to help people in pain. I want to bring optimism back to the world. They’re very lofty goals, but I’ve always been the ambitious sort.

 

And I can’t say if it’s stronger to love one’s gods more than one’s family or vice verse. I think the strongest thing is to know yourself and live by your own convictions, moral compass and compassion. If you can leave this world knowing, “No matter what, I fought for what I believe in” I think that is the strongest and noblest thing there is.

 

Your questions have really put me in an introspective mood!What are your answers to these questions? What do you believe in? I’d really like to know! And if you have poetry… I’d like to know that too! The truth is, I am a real sucker for stories, poems, music, art, any of that! People are always commenting on how spaced out I look. It’s probably because I am daydreaming all the time. Or maybe it’s just my face…

 

I hope to hear from you again!

-Saachi

 

 

 

And with that she pulled a bottle of cologne out of the desk drawer. She hadn’t used any of it since she purchased it, but it reminded her of her father so she’d purchased it on a whim. She popped the cap and took in a deep breath of it, the familiar smell of It wrapped itself around her heart and surprised her by causing her eyes to tear up. Ah. There was that loneliness she’d mentioned in the letter.

 

She smiled through it anyway. At least she’d met someone new. She dabbed the letter with the cologne and made her way to the Blue Badger Gate.

 

<>

[Knight Kat]

((By all means, post my letters on any forums ))

 

Kiht Jakkya sits at a table in the Carline Canopy. She stares at the new letter she found outside the Blue Badger gate. "She certainly put something smelly on this!" Kiht says to herself in a quiet voice as her sensitive nose burns from the scent of the cologne.

 

As Kiht reads the letter, she finds her usually neutral expression being broken by slight chuckles and smirks. This, Saachi, was not entirely what Kiht had expected....

 

Kiht put the letter aside, and began writing her new response on a blank piece of parchment.

 

 

 

Saachi,

 

If your father is alive, then value him every moment you can. If he is no longer with you then it is good to know you remember so much about him. My father taught me many things I needed to know, and even some things that I should not known. He saved my life, and eventually lost his. I will never forget a gods damned thing about him.

 

As for my sense of smell... I am a Moon-keeper. My name is Kiht. All Miqo'te are born with the potential to have a strong sense of smell, but many of the ones who no longer live the traditional lifestyle never hone their sense of smell, and often come to ignore it altogether. The nose is like a muscle; you must use it, or it will never be very strong.

 

Me write a book? I can hardly write a letter! But I have learned much about nature by simply living in it.

 

You are training to be a paladin?! Then your gift with magic is far greater than my simply strong sense of smell. I do not have quantity of aether needed to be a disciple of magic. I know of another aspiring Paladin... She is a kind and beautiful Hyur woman with glorious red hair. If you are anything like her then Menphina bless you.

 

You have a point regarding the value of staying alive while protecting loved ones. You are no good to anyone while dead. However, I have seen many of my kin see a weapon flying towards a loved one, and them preferring to take that weapon blow instead; rather than suffer the greater pain of watching someone they love get slain before them. It is a horrible choice to make, and I am absolutely done with watching it happen.

 

You wish to know how I would answer the questions I ask you? I have broken laws, stolen food, been imprisoned, killed all manner of creatures, fought Ixal, journeyed to many dangerous places in Eorzea and now take on deadly assassins all for the survival of my friends and family. So, the question isn't what I would do for the ones I love; the question is what -wouldn't- I do for them?

 

As for defying the twelve. I worship the gods, so I am fortunate that I have never had to answer that one question.

 

Much like you, I feel compelled to be ambitious. Oh how I wish I could wander the Black Shroud with my kin and live the life we use to live, but those days are done! I can not form enough aether at once to cast a spell. I can not be a healer or a Paladin. I only know how to scout, hunt and kill. I have recently sought out an old mentor. He brought with him the skills of the Lancers from a far-away land to the North. He has began teaching me these skills! I may not be able to protect or heal my loved ones, but I sure as hells plan to destroy the ones who would do them harm!

 

And since you mentioned poetry twice now... I will leave you with something similar. It is the only thing I can think of. When the sun sets every cycle, I make this prayer that was taught to me by my kin.

 

We watch the Moon.

We worship love.

We love freedom.

We see through darkness.

We prowl the night.

We are the Keepers.

 

At the beginning of every dusk, this simple prayer reminds me of what I am no matter what I go through, or what I end up becoming.

 

If you wish to respond further Saachi, just do the same thing you did last time with your response letter.

 

 

 

Kiht hands in the letter to the Roost receptionist then walks out into the night.

[Steel Wolf]

((I'm at work right now and the letters are locked out on my browser.  :c Is there perhaps some way you could PM me the contents of the Lominsan letter? It's a slow work day and I could use the distraction. ))

[Xifang]

Steel, I'm sorry I missed your post. I'll send it now!

[Xifang]

 

Perceptive Friend,

 

 

 

I will definitely love my father every moment I am alive,but there might be some debate on rather I value him. I ran away from home, you see, and didn’t tell him anything about where I was going. I left him a note, but it was a small one, and I think it hardly counts. I wonder if I had been left such a terse note if I would be happy to know that my daughter had not been kidnapped, but instead ran away, or if I would be insulted by the brevity of the note’s contents. Probably it would be both.

 

I believe that somewhere inside him is the wonderful fatherwho raised me, but he’s changed so much and I don’t believe it was good for me to stay there. I talk big about being a hero and helping those in needs, but I fear I ran away from the person who needed saving the most. But I don’t feel like this is a time to spill my regrets onto paper! I just met you! I should talk about happier things!

 

Ah, so you did have to hone your ability to smell. I’llreveal a part of my identity here: I’m a Wildwood elezen. At least I think I am based on appearance. My father (who I assume adopted me though he claimed differently) is a hyur man and I was not raised among the elezen. I am mostly grateful for the life I’ve lived, but I do wonder sometimes what I might have been like had I grown up in the elezen culture. What skills would I have learned then? What values would I have? Certainly I can still learn the skills, but it’s fascinating to me to think about how I might have been different in a different environment.

 

Growing up I didn’t do much but read. I read and read andread and read and… you get it. Most of the books were children’s tales: epics of great heroics and beautifully illustrated fairytales. It is because of those books that I read voraciously that I so desired to become a “hero” (which I translated as “paladin” but could really be any person who struggles to be the best that they can for the sake of others). Yes, I’ve been told numerous times and have slowly also come to the conclusion that there might have been something a little naïve about that goal, but it’s still very much ME and I refuse to let that dream die. Had I grown up in a different environment perhaps I’d have read different books and had a different motivation! What if I grew up reading How To scrolls and books on becoming a villain instead (Do such things even exist?)! I’d wear dark armor, brood, scheme and smile, no, smirk! in  secretive, plotting, wicked manner. That’d be a lot different from the current me!

 

It’s taken me awhile to conclude that helping others whilehelping myself is the worthier and, often times much more difficult, goal. I’ve felt a bit nervous sharing that viewpoint with others because part of suspects that the assumption is that we should say, without thought, “I’d die for you!” It was actually someone declaring that for me, saying that their purpose would be to die for me and my cause should it come to that, that made me realize just how horrifying a statement that is. I do not want people to die for me. I want people to live for me or, better yet, live for themselves. I worry what might happen to my convictions if I discover that other people are dying for them. Will it make them stronger or weaker? Once I realize that people are dying for my cause, I worry that I am not strong enough to consider that a sign of my right and will instead become weak from constantly mourning the loss of loved ones. I think this might mean that I’d be terrible in a position of power where such sacrifices are common place…

 

You said such nice things about my being a paladin. And mademe curious about this woman with red hair! Does she have a name? Wait, of course she does and of course you have no obligation to tell me it. But now I will look at every female paladin I meet and if she has red hair I will think, “Is it you?” which is sort of a fun game all on its own. Thank you for that gift!

 

I am fascinated with Dragoons! To tell the truth, a part ofme very much wants to be able to study such an art but I am much too cumbersome. I’m a bit slow and heavy on my feet, so I think I’d be absolutely terrible at it! I have a pathetically small hop… I’d be not much good at legitimate jumping.

 

That prayer was absolutely beautiful. Thank you! I don’thave anything remotely similar to share with you. I guess I can tell you another secret, an artistic one, in place of that. I do not have the skills required to be a bard, but I do love music. 

 

Some time ago I bought a harp and alute and I have been practicing nightly on them in hopes that someday I might be brave enough to perform something on my off days (not that I get many of those). I’ve been working on composing my own song and while it’s not much yet, I believe one day it could be! I think of strength and loss as I write it, but I have not been able to think of a name yet. Perhaps I’ll call it “Keeper of the Moon”.

 

You’ve made me want to turn this into a game! I’m going todab this letter with the same cologne and hide it somewhere nearish the Blue Badger Gate, but not at all right next to it as last time. This one you’ll find high up in a tree nearby! If it is still there in a few days I will move it of course…

 

 

-Saachi

 

[Steel Wolf]

Another day at the forge had set Steel's shoulders and arms aflame.  The order she was commissioned for took far longer than she had anticipated, having run out of the ore to smelt the ingots needed.  Overall, it was a case of a simple job going completely pear-shaped due to her own stupidity.

 

The guildmaster of Naldiq and Vymelli's had been cross...but supportive.  "Take it as a lesson", the Miqo'te said, then sent Steel on her way.  The bitter sting of disappointment was still oozing over her body language like a thick film despite how comforting the guildmaster's tone had been.

 

She needed a drink.  Maybe three.

 

Steel made her way into the Drowning Wench and sat herself at the first open table that she saw.  She nodded to the bartender as she entered, and the silent order was passed from her mind to his, as she was becoming a more than regular face to the establishment recently.  Steel sat into the chair like a dropped sack of popotoes, sighing in defeat and exhaustion as she did.  Her hands hit the table with a dull thud, as her frustration poured out of her form.

 

The strike to the table had jarred a folded parchment loose.  It noisily fluttered into the Roegadyn's lap.

 

Confused, Steel blinked and opened the parchment.  Written within was a curious, meandering, but altogether friendly letter from someone named Saachi.  The writer divulged far too much information for a piece of correspondence just stuffed beneath a table in a tavern...but, then, Steel had bourne witness to much stranger happenings.

 

As her tankard of mead arrived, Steel requested a parchment and a quill.  Saachi had requested a response, and she was willing to play along with the odd missive's request...

 

Saachi,

 

I apologize for ignoring your first request of not offering my name, as I am not one to forego manners for a stranger's letter.  To that point, you are reading a response from Stahlwilf Haemrstymmwyn, or Steel Wolf if that is easier on you to read and write.

 

To say that your letter is a surprise is an understatement, but I hope that this finds you in reasonably good spirits and good health.  My spirits, since they were asked of me, are not particularly good, as I have had a very trying day at forge.  I am a journeyman Armorsmith...though today was a setback, to say the least.  I'll not bore you with the minutae, but know that what should have been a simple task was made more complex by my lack of planning.

 

In addition to being an Armorsmith, most times I roam the land among the Free Paladins sanctioned by Ul'dah.  I should mention I am no servant of the Sultana, but I do offer my sword and shield to the services that benefit the whole of Eorzea, regardless of how meager or dangerous they be.  It's not my first choice of vocation, but it fills my gilpurse to continue my funding in my apprenticeship at Naldiq and Vymelli's.  Recently, however, I have felt a sense of being lost in the world.  My strength is useful to many, and thanks are given in earnest...still, there is something missing to it all...

 

Forgive me....perhaps I am boring you.  Perhaps I am too morose to consider being approachable right now.  Perhaps I need to vent and you are the unfortunate target.  Regardless, I appreciate you taking the time to read this far.  I don't anticipate a response, but should you feel the compulsion to respond, you may leave it with the innkeeper here at the Drowning Wench.  I tend to take my board here on most days, and I expect to remain in Limsa Lominsa for another few days.

 

 

Steel folded up the parchment and took another long pull from her tankard.  She sighed, feeling a bit sad at what she had just written out...but at the same time, she felt a little relief.  Nobody was around to talk to, save for this mystery scribe, and it felt good to lay bare some of her mind's weight...or perhaps it was just too much drink too fast that loosened her demeanour.

 

She took the folded parchment and handed it to the innkeeper.  Upon hearing the name of Saachi, the large Roegadyn smiled broadly and nodded his full understanding.  Another regular customer.

 

It had been a very odd day overall, she thought, as she went back to the table to nurse the tankard waiting there.

[Xifang]

<>

 

Saachi liked violence. It wasn’t something she was proud of; rather, she was quite horrified by it. She kept this truth, this enjoyment , this craving of battle, as closely guarded a secret as she possibly could because every time she was forced to acknowledge it she’d try to talk herself down. “It’s not as bad as you think”, she’d tell herself and when, after a particularly impressive bout of brutality it was not possible to deny how bad it was she’d think, “…I can fix this… I can fix this… Next time doesn’t have to be this way.”

 

                But like the change of the seasons, her regiment of moods and responses were almost like clockwork. The horror at what she had done, the denial, the guilt, the peace with herself, followed by more brutality always found itself back in her life.

 

                She wanted to be a great hero, a great healer and a great person. She honestly set out to do the best things she possibly could for a world too accustomed to people not caring about it. She listened to rumors of where trouble might be starting and she tried to be there to stop it. When people told her their plights, no matter how small (for what seemed small to her might well be very large to someone else) she listened and tried to help. She studied conjury, threw herself headlong into it, so that she could learn a more peaceful and kind way of existing and heal the wounds, at least physical, of as many people as possible. She became a paladin so that she might use her skill with a sword (and to some degree her shield) as a means to protect others.

 

                But that was just it. She was much better with the sword than she was the shield and at certain moments, with certain terrible people, she was far better at meting out justice with bloodshed than stopping the bloodshed with her magic. But her blood pulsed and her heart raced and she felt like she became a wind, a cyclone, of power and like she was wrapped up in something stronger and more incredible than herself when she was engaged in battle. She stopped feeling awkward and childish. She didn’t over-analyze things, she just intuitively knew how to move and what to do. It felt as though so invisible guide moved her along the battlefield and helped her win and it was unbelievably exhilarating. To give up fighting at all felt like it was giving up her invisible friend… and, as a rule, she looked down on giving up of any sort.

 

                Still,it was embarrassing and made for uncomfortable conversation if she said, “Hi! Sometimes I feel most alive when I am killing bad people! Do you want to talk about fun books we read?”

 

                Today was a day where she was feeling guilty. Her stomach was tying itself in knots and she was knocking back hard alcohol to try to loosen it up. She was on her fourth drink of a particularly hard, and not particularly pleasant tasting drink that the bartender at the Drowning Wench said people had taken to calling “Drake’s blood”, when the inn keeper remembered to hand her a letter. It took awhile for her to 1) realize why he was handing her a letter at all and 2) for eyes to adjust enough to read it.

 

                “Someone elsh…”, she said, narrowing her eyes and bringing the letter close to her face and then pulling it far back away from her face to see which of those angles made it easier to read, “Feels….lik shit today……too. Or whatever day thish was. Gimme a… a… gimme a…. gimme a pen and some paper, pleash.”

 

                The innkeep considered not giving her the requested items, but then grinned and gave them anyway. He’d watch her and if she wrote anything too embarrassing he’d dutifully take the items back away from her and throw the letter away.

 

                She hiccupped and began to write, her letters leaning one direction and then the other in varying sizes:

 

        

 

        “Steel Wilf,

 

           I amvery sorry that your day was so bad. It is one of life’s most regular dissapointeddisappointments that these sorts of days get tossed in the year alongside all the goode ones”.

 

 

 

 She paused to consider the sentence and found it very hard to read. It bolstered her spirits, though, to realize that even drunk she had managed to write down a complicated sentence. If she could do that she could do anything! It did not bother her that the sentence had taken her a full minute to write down.

 

 

 

 My spirits are low now too. Rather,the spirits in my cup are just fine, but my moode is not so goode. But onethinge we can take comfort in is that it might be that the seate I am in nowe is the same seate you were in when you wrote your letter to me! I can imagine you as a ghoste in the past here experiansing going throughe the same things I am nowe, but then you got bettere so that means I will too. It makes snese. It maks me smile!”

 

 

 

The innkeeper took the pen and paper and told her to go to bed and try again in the morning. He was, truth be told, impressed that she had done as well as she had, but watching her add “e”s to the end of words as though she were seasoning her letter had grown far too frustrating for him. He assumed she’d thank him for keeping her from sending that letter to someone else.

 

The next afternoon she handed him anew letter to give to her original letter writer,

 

 

 

“Stahlwilf,

 

I really like your name. I like the way it looks when it’s written, I like the sound of it, I like that, to simplify things, you call yourself “Steel Wolf”. Honestly, what an amazing name! My name is just Saachi. I can’t even think of a cute, or powerful, nickname to go along with it. I don’t think it invokes any impressive imagery or really registers as anything particularly noteworthy at all. My lastname is even worse. You’ve told me your whole name, so I’ll tell you mine: Saachi Medvyed.

       Isn’t that a horrible last name? It’sjust random, harsh sounds smashed together. Saying it makes the mouth move funny, like food is stuck on the roof of the mouth. 

 

        Steel Wolf is much, much, much more impressive.

 

      Your letter didn’t bore me. It might be a strange thing to confess, but it actual brought me some comfort. When I received your letter I was having a very rough day and choosing to drown out its memory in alcohol. Sometimes when I have a bad day, it’s almost as though I forget that other people have them, too. It’s just me and my self-made island of despairing. It feels oppressive and lonely which, I confess, are not my favorite ways to feel. But the truth is: lots of people have days like that. For me, it felt strangely nice to know that someone else HAD been feeling down before, perhaps even in the same location, and that the moroseness I felt wasn’t unique to me.

 

      I’m not sure if any of that made sense. I’m sorry; I tend to ramble.

 

      I’m not an armorsmith myself, nor,actually, any sorts of craftsman. But I certainly understand the upset that comes with messing a task up because of poor planning! That is one of the most frustrating experiences because it makes you confront and ultimately be responsible for a mistake you made and could have avoided… which is a very hard thing to do.

 

      Yesterday, I suffered from the opposite which almost felt worse to me. I’d be given a mission to break up this particularly violent cult that had been… maybe I shouldn’t go into details here. In short, they were hurting people. I was supposed to do whatever I could to stop them from doing that, but ensure that some survived so that local governments could question them and learn about other branches of the cult. I planned and planned and planned how I’d go about getting in there, freeing some people and taking down others. I won’t get into all the plans and secondary plans and tertiary plans I made because ultimately they didn’t matter. I spent an entire day coming up with them and when I got in there I screwed it all up. Nearly every single way that I could mess up a plan, I did it. I was a little (as far as elezen can be little) ball of plan destroying chaos. I messed up the entire mission and I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself. My planning was quite good but my follow through was almost laughably horrendous. I won’t be getting accolades for that performance and I might not even be getting paid.

 

      Plans often go wrong. Sometimes it amuses me to realize that. The same way that if I am holding a pen and put it down for just a SECOND to do something else I’ll find that I have somehow misplaced it, I find that no manner of planning that I do actually accounts for what will really happen when I go out into the field. Sometimes I say to myself: “Here is the plan: work with that until whatever unaccounted for thing happens and then improvise!” and it’s fine with me. And sometimes it makes me go crazy and wonder what the point of planning for anything is anyway!

 

                Ah, I bypassed an important point: I’m a free paladin too! I also work with them learning to protect others, but I don’t like to tie myself to one person, one idea or one location. I feel like there’s too much I could be doing to help out in the world for me to feel comfortable keeping my skills beholden to one government. I try to pick up missions from different locations when I can. The great thing is that this allows me to help a greater number of people and really consider what I’m doing. The bad this is that it allows me to upset a number of governments and people looking for mercenary work rather than just one.  I’m sure you can relate!

 

                I also feel like I’m lost in the world. That’s why I reached out with the letters. It’s just this sense that something is missing and I’ve considered, that in my case, it’s companionship. I don’t necessarily mean romantic companionship (I suppose I wouldn’t be opposed to it though), but more like friends that I can form a bond with. I want to tell people about my day and for them to want to listen to it… or for them to politely listen to it anyway even if it bores them because they know that sometimes I’m NOT so boring. When I go through something hard, I want to sit by someone comforting rather than sitting by myself on a barstool. 

 

The letters are sort of a way for me to do that, to reach out and know that there are people out there, even if I never see them in person, who might consider me a friend. I’m always on the move so it’s hard to have regular connections and to meet up with people when I happen through their town, but having these letters means that we can connect with one another whenever we have the time.

 

                Knowing that there are a handful of people in any given area that might be thinking about me enough that they’ll stop what they’re doing to write to me makes me feel, perhaps selfishly, very happy. I hope that the fact that I am dedicated to doing the same for them makes any similarly lonely people feel just as much at ease.

 

                Writing letters is great fun for me! I’d rank it right up there with flying kites, looking for treasure, lying in the cool grass on a hot day to look up at the sky and make shapes out of the clouds and eating fresh tomatoes as far as enjoyability goes for me.     

 

                Basically,if you write me: I will always write back.

 

-Saachi

 

 

          She handed the new letter to the inn keeper and went about the rest of her day in a strangely content and introspective manner. He dutifully took the letter, folded it up, put it in a nice envelope and sealed it for her, awaiting Steel Wolf's arrival. The task took him some time though as many customers flooded in requesting a room on account of a local event and when he got back to the task at hand, he absently included her original letter, full of needless 'e's at the ends of words, in the envelope as well.

 

((Do you mind if I copy your letter and put it on the Driftwood forums where so many of the other letters are? It's OK if you'd prefer I don't!))

[Steel Wolf]

((Feel free to copy my letter!  ^^  I'll respond with a ..uh...a response soon.  About to leave work now and I won't have the time to give the reply its proper attention. :3 ))

[Knight Kat]

"What in the Seven Hells?" Kiht asks herself as she stares up into a tall tree.

The scent was obviously coming from the tree, but there was no letter anywhere near it. It -had- to be up in the canopy.

 

Kiht contemplated for a moment then smirked confidently as she came to understand why Saachi might have put the letter in the tree canopy.

 

Kiht crouched with her legs together and her knees bent. "Both legs must act as one, and focus." Kiht whispered to herself as she remembered Yvelont's (her mentor) training. Kiht focused every fiber of her being into this one task. She knew she couldn't jump into the tree canopy, but she could get a leaping start up before having to latch onto the trunk. She drew two hunting knives from her satchel and held one in each hand.

 

Kiht springs into the air; the combination of her training, and strong Miqo'te legs complimenting each other. She makes it quite a ways up the tree before stabbing knives into the trunk, and planting her feet on the rugged bark. Kiht manages to get a hold on the tree without sliding back down.

 

She climbed the rest of the way to the canopy. After retrieving the letter, Kiht climbed back down the tree a ways before letting go, and falling to the ground. Using her leg muscles to absorb the shock, and timing her reaction with them allowed her to land hard but gracefully on her feet.

 

It was time to head to the Carline Canopy and read her new letter.

 

 

 

To the one who obviously thinks she's cute,

 

I found your letter in a tree... If you cannot jump well then you certainly can climb. Fortunately, I can do both very well!

 

After reading about your past with your father, I find myself a bit upset. I have a hard time imagining having problems with any of my family that would be bad enough to make me want to leave them. You and I must have grown up in very different cultures. If you cannot value him, and he cannot respect you, then I suppose love is enough. I have no right to judge.

 

I find it quite hilarious that you are unsure if you are an Elezen. Do you find yourself feeling the urge to be arrogant? Do you often look down on people literally and figuratively? Do you have long, pointy ears?

 

I jest Saachi, I jest! I no longer have problems with Elezen. Actually, my mentor is an Elezen. I cannot reveal his name to you because his identity must remain a secret for now. However, I would risk my life to help him.

 

You say that you wish to help people. You say that you think people should live for themselves rather than die for others, or even live for others. This leads me to believe that you choose to help others because you see it as living for yourself?

 

To me, this means you are innately noble. Even more like the red-haired Hyur woman I mentioned! However, there are many people who do not have this naturally charitable aspect of their personality. I am afraid to see what this world would be like if people only lived for themselves.

 

My Matriarch, the leader of my group, often tells me something that I think I should relay to you. She says "Nature demands things from us. If we choose to deny it, we die. It is that simple, and that strict. We must kill to eat, we must accept that we are never fully clean and we must be selfish at least part of the time." This means that we cannot live as polar opposites of true evil. We cannot deny the selfish aspects of ourselves, or we would die. However, there -is- a way to live our lives, and be good people in the process...

 

The key to being a good person is not pretending that we wouldn't harm a fly, or that we are selfless. The key is killing only when necessary, following a code of conduct and learning to commit occasional acts of -charity-. Beyond that, people can do nothing more without putting on a falsehood.

 

Some people who live only for themselves would do nothing to aid others if it required the risk of their lives. People need to be reminded that, sometimes, an act of selfless charity will make the world a better place.

 

It is interesting you mention skills with the harp and lute! I have a Moon-sister by the name of Rinette who is skilled with music as well. However, her shyness has denied me the honor of hearing her play thus far.

 

I am very honored by your consideration of naming a song after me and/or my kin. My eyes hadn't felt tears like that in many Moons. Recently, I have helped another Moon-sister by the name of Merri find her lost group. She has reunited with them, and is with family once again. To celebrate, we are planning to take a pilgrimage to Menphina's stone in the Coerthas Highlands. I will add you to my prayers.

 

By the by, feel free to put a response letter in a new challenging place if you wish. It is a good practice of my skills so far to hunt and find these letters of yours!

 

 

 

Kiht hands in her letter to the inn receptionist. She grins widely for the first time in many Suns.

[Steel Wolf]

Steel Wolf had awoken in her room from what was a fitful sleep, and her body ached in every possible joint as a result.  It was no fault of her bed, as it was as warm and comfortable as any she'd slept in at the establishment.  More the fault of her mind tumbling a variety of things as she laid herself down.

 

She stretched herself before the frosted glass window of her room, then bent down to pick up her smallclothes.  As she entered a state of slight modesty, a light knock was heard on her door, followed by a delicate, Lalafellian female's voice.

 

"Miss Hah....haayymer..steam weh..uhhm...Miss, I have a delivery for you."

 

Steel swung her door open, looking down at the servant girl before her.  The Lalafell stood up on tiptoes, raising an envelope to the Roegadyn.  When her eyes met the woman's body of underdress, her entire body seized up, her eyes shrinking and her mouth drawing into a tight line of stunned surprise.

 

It amused Steel greatly.

 

She knelt down and took the envelope from the servant's hand, then gave her some gil--a few extra added as tax paid for embarassing the poor woman.  Sitting at the nearby desk, she opened the envelope and pulled out two different letters.

 

They apparently were penned by the same hand, though it'd be difficult to know that without seeing the writer's name mentioned on the second.  The first had been scrawled by what appeared to be either a drunkard or someone attempting calligraphy by holding the pen in their mouth.  The second was far more legible and concise, and so Steel focused her attention on that.

 

It was her mystery pen pal, Saachi.  This one was far less upbeat than the initial correspondence...it read in a more reserved and lower tone, of someone apologetic, yet unapologetically bearing their soul.  Catharsis and release was evident in every word as the writer laid out her concerns, hopes and fears.

 

It was touching...and in it Steel found a kindred spirit.  A woman searching, who tried things headfirst, and who swallowed disappointment and failure bitterly and utterly into her heart.

 

Steel scrambled to find a fresh sheet of paper and a quill.  This was beyond curiosity.  This was a call for companionship.  She was compelled to offer her shield, this time in an emotional sense.

 

Saachi

 

First off, I don't put terribly too much stock in names. The Roegadyn tradition of names to carry the legacy of my parents and their wishes for me is a gift, to be sure, but it's up to the bearer of the name to make it something to remember.  For what it's worth, however, your name is very pretty, and it rolls off of the tongue.  A damn sight better than the butchering my birthname can receive, at any rate.

 

I would like to start by offering my condolences for your most recent mission going as wrong as you described.  I would agree that having a careful plan disintegrate before your eyes is significantly worse.  In moments like those, I tend to try to take stock in the smaller victories.  Specifically, you are still alive, and those who stood before you as enemies met justice.  It is easier to write than to do, but I hope that those words can carry some measure of solace.

 

Additionally, your words invoked in me many nods of understanding and agreement.  Indeed, we appear to be cut from a same cloth...lost and seeking, trying to make a difference in what measure we can...and perhaps more mournful of our failings than should be considered healthy.  Still, I try to recall that we are needed--we are the swords, the shields and the succor that this land requires.  Our decisive actions and willingness to charge forward into whatever dangers may fall is needed in these cold times.  Eorzea needs women like us.  A strong arm at need and a gentle touch at respite.

 

I suppose the long and short of it is that you are not alone...and for what it's worth, our meager time together has instilled in me the sense that we should fight aside each other sometime.  I understand wandering can make this difficult, but we share a mutual need and a mutual battle.  A battle that numbers could never stand against.

 

I hope that our paths cross soon....or, failing that, our missives continue.  I'll be sure to keep our shared barstool warm.

 

 

Steel set the quill down and looked at the morning light bleeding through the inn's window.  Suddenly, her aches seemed less.  She looked towards her forge clothes hanging in the armoire nearby, and then to the mannequin holding her battle armor.

 

She stood up and readied the simple chain and plate garb.  Today was a day that the field called louder than the forge.

[Xifang]

((I've been fighting a really nasty cold lately... sorry for the delays! *gets cracking*))

 

<>

 

 

 

Worthy Challenger!,

 

I want to say: “Oh, I’m the most well-trained climber youwill ever meet” and “I have studied the art of tree climbing for years”, but that’d be a lie. I try to keep my lying to a minimum and I already met my quota for it when I tried and complimented a sandwich that a little girl I helped today made for me as a thank you present. I’ve recovered from the stomach ache and think I have room in my belly for food made of more than…whatever that was. But I don’t have room in the day for more fibbing so it is with a heavy (or at least amused) heart and flimsy pride that I admit: I fell out of that tree twice! I must have been a real spectacle to behold! The first time took me entirely surprise as the branch was unable to maintain my weight and I went crashing to the ground. But I am the stubborn sort and got right back up there. The second time I tried to maneuver myself so that I’d land on my feet and look “cool”. Nope. I still landed on my butt. 

 

My stomach is feeling better now, butmy tailbone is less enthusiastic about its current condition! Gridania must have been terrified. “Is it raining elezen now??” That would be a very awkward and ungainly weather event…

 

About my father… There is no doubt in my mind that we loveone another. But that’s really the problem. Ew, that’s not to say there’s some sort of weird, incestuous thing going on there: there definitely is NOT. It’s just that as I grew older he became, I feel, far too over-protective. Without going into too many details about this, I ran away. Sometimes I feel excited that I did. I think: Finally! I’m living the life I chose for myself and there’s nothing to keep me down! And other times I am wrecked with guilt and wonder how I could have done that to the person I love most. I don’t know what the answer to that conflict is. For now, I’m still just going to keep trying to be my own person. Maybe one day I’ll be able to face him again and explain. But I won’t be able to blame him if he does not forgive me.

 

Do I find the urge to be arrogant while I loom over people?Hmmm… Let me consider that! Ah, yes, you know… I think you may have helped me out here! Just the other day I recall towering over some person or another (the race is not of note as it was not an elezen as myself). I remember pointing out my various talents and mocking their religion. I said something like “Blah blah dragons, blah blah outsider blah”. Does that sound about right? God above! I AM Elezen after all!  Haha. Just kidding, of course (about the arrogance… I’m still fairly sure I’m elezen.)

 

Yes! I never knew how to phrase that before. But, yes! Theway I choose to live for myself is by giving back to others. I want to live my life helping others live the lives they want as well. That’s very important to me. I want the world to see all the opportunities there are and if it’s not enough I want to show them they can make more of them. I want to believe we have everything we need to make sure this the world we want it to be… and I stubbornly want to believe that more of us want that world to be a good thing than a terrible one.

 

I can’t tell you just how much your Matriarch’s wordsresonated with me. I’ve been struggling lately with myself and this internal conflict I’ve had between killing and sparing lives. I’m fairly good with a sword. I LIKE fighting. I want to get stronger and better at it. But every time I kill someone that I think I could have defeated in some other way, I find myself horribly depressed. “Victory”, after all, shouldn’t just be the end of someone’s life. It should be, in my mind, something that makes a difference. If you can spare someone’s life and convince them that living a different life where they do more for the world is a more worthwhile endeavor then you’ve added something to the world. The story ends when you kill someone. You may have saved the community from one life that was harming it, but you haven’t added anything back. But I’m not so naïve as to believe that every life can or should be saved either. Sometimes killing IS the right answer. I struggle with figuring out, situation to situation, which is which. I’ve never been someone to just choose to take the easy way out. If I were I would have given up on climbing that blasted tree!

 

…I am very touched that you will add me to your prayers.Having met someone new that I can share my thoughts and feelings with, honestly, through letters has meant so much to me. One day if we meet I will play the song for you! Hopefully you like it, or, if you have not yet met YOUR quota for lying you can pretend you like it more than you actually do!

 

I’d love to learn more about your culture. It soundsbeautiful.

 

I wonder how long it will take you to find this letter? Imade sure to dab more cologne on it this time than the last few times because I hid it further away. I am sorry for what that might have done to your sensitive nose once you had it in your hands! I am imagining you now holding it far, far away from your face like a far-sighted old woman, your nose in your shirt as a makeshift mask and your brow furrowed with irritation at me! Still, I’m having fun with this game and I hope you are too!

 

<< there is a mediocre drawing here of Saachi on topof a roof, looking down at the ground below and thinking: “…Falling off here is going to hurt…”>>

 

-From: Your friend who KNOWS she’s cute: Saachi  <>

 

 

 

With a resigned sigh and a tired smile, Saachi looked up at the roof in question, the top of the Carline Canopy. She WOULD get up there and she WOULD stick the letter under a bit of thatch. She rubbed her sore backside and stated, "...At least you should get an interesting response from this..."

[Knight Kat]

A rather irritated Hyur Wood Wailer scowled up at the Miqto'te girl as she climbed along the Carpenter's Guild rooftop. "You! Get down from there!" The Wood Wailer shouted. Kiht looked to the Wailer and simply responded with a taunting grin then she continued to search for the letter. Kiht could smell it, but the scent was so strong that it smelled as if it could be anywhere on the roofs of any of the buildings between the Aetheryte plaza and the Blue Badger gate. Fortunately, there were only a few buildings in that area.

 

Once the Wood Wailer walked away, Kiht saw her opportunity to move on to the roof of the Carline Canopy. Once up there, Kiht began searching quickly. She knew the Wood Wailer would not stay gone.

 

Kiht finally located the letter, but just as she was about to leave the roof, she noticed new Wood Wailers approaching. The one Hyur Wood Wailer brought three others.

 

"Do you not have something better to do, Wailers!?" Kiht shouted at them. However, she would not stay around for their answer. Kiht jumped down from the roof and bolted out into the Shroud. She would return later at night when the Wood Wailer guards changed shifts.

 

 

 

 

Willful one,

 

your determination is admirable. Because I actually do have a tail, and I do not think I would like falling on it. Perhaps you leaving that letter in the tree was more a test for you than it was for me? I do not see it being in a Paladin's nature to be good at tree-climbing... I now just pictured my red-haired Hyur friend climbing a tree. I do not think she would fair well either...

 

If you are like the typical Paladins, you bear the sword, shield and heavy armor. You learn to root yourself to the ground and brace and block. You would probably want to be like a rock. Well, rocks do not slash with swords or cast helpful magics. Maybe a better comparison would be a golem. A friendly golem... I wonder if my other Paladin friend would like the golem comparison? Mayhaps a Treant? Probably not...

 

Anydusk, I understand you wanting your personal freedom. If your father was making that impossible then I can see why you would want to leave. Mayhaps he was too afraid of loosing you? Mayhaps he had already lost someone dear to him, and you were all that was left? You do not have to answer those questions. I ask them simply to offer a perspective you may not have considered.

 

I am not saying you should go back to your father. It is unlikely that I know enough about the situation to advise you either way. It is something I think you should decide for yourself. However, any father who loves his daughter would forgive her. I do not know him, and I still do not not know much about you. But if the man calls himself your father then, by Menphina, he -will- forgive you.

 

 

I must say I am rather amused by your ability to take a small jest and turn it into a much more complex piece of humor. You seem to have an interesting mind Saachi. Mayhaps it is all those books you read. I should read more books, but I fail to tolerate remaining still for any length of time while I am awake.

 

I am glad you do not find everything I told you annoying. I oft wonder if I come across as preachy, or lecture too much. The truth is, I am not trying to do either. I oft have to explain myself to people who do not understand me. I have developed a way of explaining things that also reveals my reasoning. I believe this can seem like a lecture to some people.

 

Deciding when to kill and when not to kill can be very difficult in a tense situation. I wish I had answers or advice for you on this. All I can say is be careful. Do not give those who attack you the opportunity to harm you by showing them mercy. If you fight in self defense, or the defense of others, I hardly see any reason to hold back, or feel guilt for the fallen attackers. They made their choice when they tried to use deadly force on you or someone else.

 

On a lighter note, I would love to hear the song you make. Mayhaps one day. But you have a point; if you are to make a song about Keepers or even just me, you should know more about my culture.

 

I was raised in a small semi-nomadic group that many might call a tribe, but I prefer to call it a clan. Unlike Seeker tribes, we do not have a widely recognized tribe name. My group is made of only two families, so a tribe name seems overly zealous. However, we are oft referred to as the Shriekshroom clan. This is based on our origin as hunters and gatherers of beastkin and seedkin resources. We always had shriek shrooms to trade. We are a matriarchal group that is made up of mostly female individuals. Males are just not born as often as females. This means there are always many more Moon-sisters than Moon-brothers.

 

My family (the Jakkya family) specializes in a time-honored form of spear combat, and the hunting of dangerous wildlife. We also brought leather-working to the group. The other family is called the Kaatah family. They specialize in skills with the short bow. They hunt faster, smaller game. They brought botany to the group. Our two families work together to support each other. That is why family is so important to me. In my group, I am a huntress, scout, crafter and protector. I am a big part of why they survive, as is every individual.

 

However, in the massive Eorzean society at large, I am nothing but another Miqo'te. They would make me a dancer, a bar wench or a servant. I will prove to everyone watching that this female Miqo'te CAN be something greater than what society would otherwise deem me.

 

My group faces many problems now. Mayhaps I will tell you about it later if you are interested. But I now feel like I have written enough. My head aches from the scent of the smelly fluid you seem to enjoy soaking the letter in! My nose will not stop with the burning. It just burns and burns like the Seven Hells..... My nose is not the Seven Hells Saachi; It is just a nose. A nose that you seem to hate...

 

Menphina guide your heart Saachi.

 

 

 

Kiht hands the letter to the Inn receptionist, but she motions for him to wait a moment then hands him something else. “Please leave this with the letter” Kiht requests. She then walks out of the Carline Canopy. The Inn receptionist opens his hand to see a ring made of Aldgoat leather. The symbol of Menphina is engraved on it.

[Xifang]

<>

 

 

 

 

Steel Wolf,

 

You’re absolutely right about names! It’s up to us to makeour names memorable. We can be given any name under the sun, but it’s how we interact with others and the world that ultimately makes a difference. I might be sad right now that my name, to me at least, sounds so plain and unremarkable. But I also believe that I do possess the ability to at least LIVE remarkably!

 

…Even so? Thanks for the compliment on my name!

 

I will confess something strange here as confessions, of anytype, were one of the things I said would be acceptable in these letters. When I was growing up my father told me that he was once an adventurer, a hero, of some renown. He said that around the Limsa Lominsa area that people would call out to him by name and that he never had to buy his own drinks in any tavern. He bought me many books, but the ones he brought me the most were these tales of daring heroics and epic adventures, fairytales and the like, and so I grew up feeling very strongly that I wanted to be a “hero” too.

 

I understand that that’s a fairly naïve life goal. When Isay “I’d like to be a hero like in the stories!” to people as my life goal they are unsurprisingly taken aback and say “helpful” things like “That’s not very realistic” and “Ok…or maybe you could do something more tangible!” I’m chuckling about that now because neither one of us in the conversation walk away from it feeling too terribly satisfied. It’s as though one of us was a sheep and the other a colibri and we just spent a significant amount of time making noises at one another, not understanding why nothing seemed to be getting through.

 

But I got off track here! I always do. My last name,Medvyed, I thought it might carry some weight in Limsa since my father said he was a hero himself. It would have been many years back, I think, but if he were so heroic obviously if I introduced myself I might be able to make some real connections.

 

But nope. Nothing. There have been a few people here andthere that have recognized the name as belonging to a noble family. There were a few that remembered him being a particularly good businessman. And, regrettably, there were many still that apparently believe that he owes them a significant amount of money and that I, as a result, owe it too. There were no accounts of his daring, protective spirit. I’ve been rather let down…

 

But there is good news in that as well that hang onto withthe fierce optimism that only a girl who read a hundred old books on adventuring heroes could maintain! This means that I have a chance to, like you said, make a name for myself. If now my lastname doesn’t mean much except that my family has money (and subsequently seems to owe it to debt collectors), it’s absolutely in my power to change that story. If I go around and do all the things that I believe I should do to help others, to fix things, to make each place I walk into a better place to be before I walk out of it… perhaps the story attached to my lastname will become something better! 

 

If I can actuallydo good, real good, in the places I travel and I hear someone exclaim something positive about Medvyeds I’ll know it was because I’VE done something right—not because of any legacy before me. And that feels good to me. I’ve thought about dropping my last-name in the past and just being “Saachi” everywhere I go (since the name still sounds unpleasant to my ears), but I haven’t done it because I like the idea of making the name something positive. I don’t know; maybe that’s just as naïve as anything else. But it cheers me up!

 

Do you know what else cheers me up? I’m about to tell you:cheesecake! 

 

Someone I helped a few days back had a cheesecake sent to my innroom. That’s so exciting to me! It’s extremely good, but it’s a bit messy. And now I’m really thirsty…. But, ultimately, I think those two minor downsides are still worth it! 

 

 

Honestly, just knowing that someone like you is out therefeeling as lost in the world as I am sometimes, looking for some kind of a connection to hang on to, really bolsters my spirits! You’re right that Eorzea needs more like us. Everywhere you look you can see people who have just sort of given up. They assume that the way things are now is the way that they’re just going to keep on being. I don’t believe that. And it doesn’t like you do either. What is so encouraging about this is that if there are two of us who feel that way there must be more as well. And if everybody who feels the strength and conviction to fight back against oppression and apathy does so… there’s no WAY a change for the better isn’t being made! I don’t know… just realizing that makes everything that was feeling so heavy and hard a few days ago feel so worthwhile now.

 

I wrote this letter to you while sitting on our sharedbarstool and grinning like a fool (some would say that’s the only way I grin).

 

Write back to me if you have the time or inclination! Itdoesn’t have to be about anything heavy. You can write an entire letter devoted to cheesecake if you like (…though I suppose cheesecake still counts as ‘heavy’, just a different kind). It feels nice just to have another friend to reach out to!

 

 

-Saachi

 

[DreamedReality]

It was early morning, dawns light barely a glow on the horizon. Jaques's attention focused on the early morning bustle of the docks below his perch at the Anchor Yard. He idly watches the fisherman, privateers, yellow jackets, and naval personnel all jostle and vie for space as the glow on the horizon starts to grow. The Duskwight looks down to the neatly folded and sealed letter in his lap. The one him and Vaughn had written together.

 

Breathing deeply the light sea breeze he glances behind himself, towards the Wench and the Mizzenmast. He lets the breath out in a sigh. Just walk in, leave the note, and walk out. Simple. Didn't have to go too near the Wench's counter. He'd done such a thing on several occasions. Yet the promise of sweet alcoholic oblivion seemed an especially loud siren's song this morning.

 

"Simple." He mutters aloud before rising and starting to head back the way he came. His eyes settle on the decorative displays of the latest festival. It seemed there was always a festival being celebrated. Then he notices it. One of the birds had been crafted to look like a small moogle on a tiered display. A thought struck him and he drops the pack from his shoulder.

After rummaging about inside it he pulls out a slightly battered notebook. He flips open to a blank page and starts to write in his hasty scrawl.

 

 

 

Greetings Saachi,

 

I discovered a 'moogle' that didn't mind holding letters for you -regardless of their length- while it's in town. Go to the Anchor Yard while the Little Ladies festival is being celebrated if you wish to find it.

 

 

He rips out the page and lets the ink dry before folding it and placing it inside a small envelope. He glances about the empty yard to double check he wasn't being observed before he messes with the display. He lifts up the smallest tier that held the moogle-bird and places the letter Vaughn and he had written letter beneath the tier. Replaces and adjusts the top of the display to look roughly how it did before he'd messed with it. With a satisfied nod he heads in the direction of the inn and tavern.

 

Once at the tavern he gives a quick glance around, the place fairly quiet at such an early hour. The only patrons being a small knot of sailors having their 'morning bread'. He glances to the Wench's counter before walking to the Mizzenmast counter. "Leave this for Saachi." He relinquishes the short note to the attendant before turning to walk out.

He pauses. He did just get those cherries... Vaughn would probably like bourbon soaked cherries as a dessert. He wouldn't drink any... He moves to the tavern's counter. "Bottle of bourbon." He pays for the bottle and stuffs it into his pack before he quickly retreats from the tavern.

 

((If Saachi decides to try and discover the other letter from the note, she'd find it written on clean parchment and penned in a hand that was much neater and easier to read than the hasty scrawl of the note.))

 

 

Greetings Saachi. We understand how difficult it can be when one feels alone. Even together, we are secluded from the world and have very little contact with others. Your letter touched us deeply, so we wish to share a story with you. One we hope would give you a glimmer of hope in this large, unforgiving world.

 

Le Songbird et le Chevelier Noir

There was once a beautiful Songbird, it's pure white feathers seeming to glow with a warm light. The Songbird was trapped in a golden cage, there was no food or water, and surely would starve. The songs it sang were sad and became infrequent, but still the Songbird pressed on trying to break through the gilded bars.

 

There seemed to be no way out. The bars were strong and the Songbird grew ever weaker and it's light began to fade. Then, just as the sun started to rise, a shadowed figure appeared on the horizon. Even though the figure was far away the Songbird could see the light within and started a renewed assault against the bars. It called out, sang as hard as it could, hoping the shadowed figure would hear and come closer.

 

The shadowed figure crept closer as the Songbird sang, yet it all seemed to be in vain as the figure seemed to look right over it. Still, it sang and ran itself against the bars. Then the shadowed figure paused in it's progress, finally noticing the Songbird who had almost given into despair. The figure looked at the cage with its own golden eyes and frowned. 'Something so beautiful should not be in a cage,' it said, 'even a gilded one.'

The shadowed figure then threw aside the shadows it wrapped itself in, revealing it for what it really was; a Dark Knight. This confused the Songbird at first for it believed like many do that Dark Knights would not be so compassionate. However that is because most don't know that a Dark Knight is one who hunts from the shadows to protect others from the depths of despair. As the Songbird would soon begin to see as it watched the Knight.

 

The Dark Knight was strong and brave, but even still had a hard time breaking the Songbird's cage. Long did he test his weapons against the golden bars as the Songbird continued from his side. Then, after what seemed an age, they finally managing to crack a bar enough for the Songbird to fly. It's shining light and beauty restored. But the Songbird couldn't leave its savior behind, nor could the Dark Knight see itself without the Songbird's light. So the two of them, light and dark, work in harmony to bring peace and compassion to those who need it most.

 

No matter how dark things seem, or how alone you feel, know that someone is still listening. While we would love to hear back from you, we hope you have also made more friends through your letter. Still, if you find the time, a response of one of your stories, or what you would like from us, can be left at outside the Tempest gate. Buried near the cliff face to the North of the gate. It'll be found.

 

May the Twelve ever protect and guide you.

 

[Steel Wolf]

"Letter, miss."

 

Steel looked up from her fourth tankard of mead.  She blinked twice like a drowsy frog at the tall Elezen male that stood before her, an envelope in his hand.  He'd be handsome if she wasn't sure he'd break underneath her.

 

The Roegadyn took the envelope with a nod and what she hoped was an appreciative smile.  Judging by the look on the Elezen's face, however, it must have looked like a writhing mass of snakes had appeared on her face.  Arrogant bastard.

 

Steel opened the envelope and read a very cheery note from her friend Saachi...at least, a person whom she considered a friend, even though she's never actually seen her.  Still, the emotion in her letters was always obvious, and this one was no different. 

 

Steel chuckled to herself, feeling warmth around her in addition to the warmth of the alcohol in her belly.  She waved down the Elezen again and made him fetch a paper and quill, being sure to use the same look on her face that disgusted him the first time.  At least one person would be as miserable as she was today.

 

Lovely Saachi,

 

Today I am at a loss for things to discuss that would not be hevee. I have had an event happen in my life that shook my core of good in this world, so your letter comes at a fortsuou fortuitu good time. I appreciate your cander and hope you'll forgive me sloppy penmanshit.

 

I'll not elaborate the details of my event, but instead turn to happee things. Like cheesecake. I have a conffusion to make myself. I have never had the stuff. It sounds like it would be expensive, considering how delicus people who have had it say it is. I usually like cookies myself. Cookies and mead. Lots and lots and lotss of meed. I will have to save my gils and attempt a piece of this desert you mention, though. It sounds yummy.

 

I like food very VERY much, but have not been able ever to cook it. My hands are too fat and thumpy to wield more than a haemr or axe, and would probably use a frying pan wrong side up if left to my own devices. That said, I love to eat. I especially love chickens. They are so tasty and can be made in so many unique ways. There was one dish I tried in Ul'dah that was like a soupp but with rice on its side. It was spicee and full of vegetables and chicken pieces. I couldn't stop eating it. I think the restarant owner was cross with me, but I dind't care.

 

People seem surprised when I mention I leik foods to eat, because I keep my curviness despite my appetite. I am truly blessed by the Twelve to have such a lovely silouhette and still eat onzes of chicken!!

 

Stlsdhahh--s----

 

 

Steel's head hit the tabletop with an audible thud, setting a couple of the emptied tankards to rattle and fall. The Elezen male tugged the now-stained letter from beneath the dozing Roegadyn. He sighed agitatedly, but obediently folded the letter and turned it in to the innkeeper of the Wench. The tall Roegadyn chuckled lightly and shook his head.

 

Another satisfied customer.