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Made weak by time and fate.... (open - OOC feedback welcomed/needed))

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((A little IC background on the Red Wings. There are IC many members, as any intelligence agency would have. For the size of Ul'dah and Thanalan as a whole you could have hundreds of minor operatives. Each person who is a member of this FC is IC a head of a sub unit within the organization. I am the head of them all, Kahn'a is second and head of assassinations, Askier leads the engineers of the group, Siha is head of research, and so on. So the actual players rp as the management of the Unit, that said means that there are many others that are basically rp-convenient npcs who are used as needed. (except Thrum and Kikiwi, those are super-awesome npcs that carry the whole fc lol). This is the story of one such operative, and how the death of even this one rather insignificant soldier effects his fellow Red Wings. Because there is no insignificant Red Wing, we are as a family, for nothing makes you close like war.))


Erik sits at his desk within the RWHQ, the quill broken in his hand. The small Mammet on his stool hops down and brings his Captain another feather. Erik nods, forcing a smile. He had been warned when he was given his first command so long ago, the worst part of command was condolence. He hated it more so because he was always forced to lie. The nature of the Wings meant that if a soldier fell, none would ever know why. Always with great sacrifice did they fall, but always he was forced to cheapen their death to their families. He died by slipping into a river as he helped dam it. She died from an illness while delivering food to a hunger struck settlement. Never the truth, never that he stopped a Imperial spy from escaping with secrets that would have been doom for Ul'dah. Never that she died from poison, a trap set and sprung as she rescued four of her fellow Wings escaping from a warzone that does not exist.


Sighing he drained his cup in one draw, he drank so much more now he thought. Placing pen to paper he began...


To Mistress Lalia Grey,


It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter to you. I must inform you that your son, Marcus, has died in the service of Thanalan and Her Majesty, Sultana Nanamo Ul Namo.


On the Forth Sun of the Seventh Moon, Marcus was lost to us while seeing to people less fortunate in Camp Bluefog. While seeking a Garlean agent who had infiltrated the camp and had begun to saba.....


Erik took another drink, his little mechanical friend filling his glass. Angered he erased the last sentence and continued....


While unloading supplies into the store houses, a terrible accident occurred. As another aid worker was working Marcus noticed a loose beam and rushed to save his fellow soldier. Pushing him to safety, Marcus was struck by the beam. He died instantly and I assure you he did not suffer. Though I know it to be little consolation, your son died a hero, and I am honored to have known him.


We of the Red Wings were blessed to have called Marcus our brother, and his loss will be with us always. I extend to you my hand and offer anything you may need. Nothing I do can ever return Marcus to you, but I will strive to honor his memory by doing whatever I can to help you.


Ser Eirikir Mynhier, FLC

The Red Wings

Immortal Flames


Setting and sealing the letter, Erik stood and walked to his chamber. Dressing in his freshest uniform he had. Setting even the hat he never wore he returned to the front office and took the letter. Exiting the building he motions to the stables as his Chocobo emerged, already dressed in full regalia. Mounting the Roursey he turned the bird and mooved to the stool near the stables as Montblanc emerged from the building as well, flag posted to his back. Once on, they rode for the west.

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The Quicksand was loud, more so then usual he thought. Erik sat at the end of the western bar, grateful his normal seat had been open. Hat and glasses both on the bar, he rubbed the bridge of his nose as he waited for a server to approach. The shame of it was look on Marcus' mother's face when he rode up the path to her home. She already knew. She had accepted it with a sad smile. She had even thanked him for taking the time to come out and see to her. Right now he just wanted a drink.

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He walked into the Quicksand, taking a quick survey of the  tables. Regardless of the time of day, a good drink was always welcome. The last time he'd entered, he'd left with a good fight. Franz didn't need another, for now at least. 


Walking over to a table with the most empty seats, he asked the man sitting at it. 


"Do you mind if I join you here?" For a moment, he laughed to himself. "See, world? I can go to a place without causing a fight!" He kept the thought to himself, of course.

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He made a courteous gesture and took a seat, flagging down a server and ordering an ale.


Silence would have been boring, so he attempted to make some small talk. 


Reaching out a hand to shake, "the name's Franz. I don't think I've seen you around before. But that could just be because I'm fairly new the city." 


It would be better to not make an enemy out of everyone. He'd already gained a track record of bugging Kage, and the previous encounter with Oscare had probably made an impression.

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"The pleasure is mine." A distinctly Ishgardian accent had slipped out. Something Franz had been too busy to work on. How was a Garlean masquerading as a normal person supposed to even keep a consistent identity if he couldn't manage to speak consistently?


He hoped Erik hadn't noticed, or perhaps not cared. "So, what brought you here? One could say....I came to the city for work. To survive, really." That should be vague enough to not raise suspicion.

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Yangh entered the quicksand, much as she always did, just after midsun. She wore her usual attire, an Aksharian themed long white skirt matched with a black upper chest wrap... though it closely resembled beach wear.


She broke into a sauntering stride, popping her hip as she went with her left hand lightly resting against the hilt of her Scimitar at her hip. Her fingers glanced the eight Aetherical gem's set into the hilt, four clear and four cloudy. With each whispering of her finger tips over the gems, the sweeping Aksharian text on the flat of the blade with light up with a dull orange glow then die down.


She spotted a familiar face, one of the "Almost mentor of the blade and all things Sultansworn, Flames Captain and Mephina KNOWS what else" Erik Mynhier. He seemed deep in conversation so she simply slipped onto a stool next to him, and male accompanying him.


"Salam, Mohmohdee. Uhl'daahn spiced wine, laksha." she said as her middle eastern-esc Aksharian accent shined through brilliantly.


Yangh brushed her dark black hair aside, running one of the purple braid highlights through the cracks of her fingers with idle like strokes. She leant back in her stool to get comfortable, her violet hued eyes flicking over to the pair once more as she began to listen in.


It'd been a while since she'd done this, it made her smile widely at the nostalgia, her white pearly Keeper fangs a stark contrast against her very tanned sun kissed skin.

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Erik raised an eyebrow to the man's accent. His mother had been from Ishgard, he knew the accent better then most in Ul'dah, but tonight he didn't care. There would be no analyzing, no looking deeper. It just didn't matter today. He nodded to the man, looking down at his uniform, "I just got off duty. Work you say, what type of work do you do?" He then turned seeing Yangh, nodding to her as she sat, he smiled hollowly, "Salam qamar bint."

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Yangh settled in her stool, flicking an ear curiously as Erik, whom she endearingly butchered the pronunciation of his name to 'Ehreek' with her wonderful accent, spoke her mother tongue of Akshar.


She smiled, looking over as she crossed her legs delicately, swilling the wine glass just under  her nose to catch the sent.


"Ehreek! Ai kowais el hamdolelaah. Keif Halak, sahibi?" she asked, trying her best to keep the wording simple but getting a little carried away, she was just so happy to be able to converse with someone in Akshar after so long.


Her tail swayed lightly has the happiness spread across her face.

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His smile like normal, but empty eyes he looked to her, "If I understand you correctly, then my answer is that I am well." He looked to the man at his other side, "I am afraid though I am only fluent in Common, Ala Mhigan," he looked in the man's eyes, "and Ishgardian." He returned his eyes to Yangh, "However, having met you I have began to learn something new. I am trying my hand at Aksharian. I heard it from time to time as a young Flame, but never took the time to enjoy it."

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Yangh sipped her drink lightly, in a very womanly and practiced fashion.


She smiled and nodded lightly. "Akshar is dead  language Yangh think. Only know of Clan that still speak... almost like code. always know family if can speak fluent Akshar."


She turned lightly to face them both, appraising Erik with her perceptive and keen violet eyes. "Hnng... Ehreek seem... worn. Is well? Work too hard? Too many female last eve?" she asked with a fanged smiled.

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Erik stared into his glass, "True, but I have an extensive library, as does Ul'dah. Akshar is a dead language, but it is still studied." He then returned to studying his glass. For a long moment stares before speaking, "I am.... worn I am afraid. No such problem as to many women. Just that I have much before me and behind."

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Yangh nodded, taking a meek sip from her glass as she listened. She eventually spoke after pondering his words.


"Yangh believe... many focus on who once was... not fixate on how much greater can be. Many hang up on past glory and failing. Yangh prefer to look forward with new eyes instead of back with tired old ones. Aiwa?" she said, almost as if she were taking her own advice to heart.


Yangh leant back a little to spy at the male accompanying  Erik, she smiled warmly and dipped her head in acknowledgement... not too much, her Keeper Clan upbringing would never allow such a courtesy to an untested and unproven male!

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Yangh nodded, taking a meek sip from her glass as she listened. She eventually spoke after pondering his words.


"Yangh believe... many focus on who once was... not fixate on how much greater can be. Many hang up on past glory and failing. Yangh prefer to look forward with new eyes instead of back with tired old ones. Aiwa?" she said, almost as if she were taking her own advice to heart.


Yangh leant back a little to spy at the male accompanying  Erik, she smiled warmly and dipped her head in acknowledgement... not too much, her Keeper Clan upbringing would never allow such a courtesy to an untested and unproven male!


He'd been staying quiet for the time being, not sure how best to respond to the situation. While Erik didn't seem to mind the Ishgardian, he also didn't know the woman and didn't want to interrupt their conversation. 


Her advice to Erik, it spoke to him as well, although he would probably never admit to listening in. Noticing both pairs of eyes had fallen on him, he had to make some kind of response. "I apologize, I didn't want to interrupt your exchange.


In still somewhat of a shock, a handful of Ishgardian words came out instead. "Je suis désolé. Je m'appelle Franz. Et vous?" He didn't know much of miqo'te culture in general, but knew even less about Keeper of the Moon tribes. Following suite, he bowed down his head, exposing his neck. A token that he meant no harm.

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He cleared his throat, making sure any more Ishgardian wouldn't come out. "Sorry. I'll occasionally slip back to Ishgardian if I'm distracted or shocked. It would seem have have been a little of both. I didn't want to interrupt anything." He raised his head to see the miqo'te more clearly. "A pleasure to meet you Miss...I beg your pardon?"


It may not have completely been "him", but with the amount of people in the Quicksand today, and the distinct lack of any who may cause....a heated exchange, Franz could just relax and rely on some of the traits he'd acquired. There would be no reason to fight. No reason to lose control.


A friendly exchange with people would be nice. Especially given what he could expect to come later.

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Yangh shook her head in understanding. "Yangh understand, happen all time to Yangh."


She brushed her hair aside, getting a much better look at the Hyur. "Is called Yangh. Pleasure." she said simply, only giving a first name. "What bring Fuhrhanz to Uhl'daah this sun?" she asked innocently.

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He'd give the truth, albeit, without some of the finer details. Both had asked why he came to Ul'dah, it must not have been an avoidable question.


"Out of all the cities I've acquainted myself with, Ul'dah seems to be the best match for me." It's full of work for a mercenary, even with an Adventurer's Guild. And previously for another, the Alchemist's Guild and plenty of Allagan ruins to study.


"I can't call the strict and isolated Ishgard a home." Neither could Frhanz Kirche, a Duskwight who's memories and experienced had been echoed upon the Garlean in hiding. Frhanz had left Ishgard to get away from the strict lifestyle while their gates had still been open. Many traits of Frhanz had carried over to the man, such as the Ishgardian, some of his habits, and of course, his given name. Franz could never divulge that to people who didn't already know, however.


"The forest around Gridania would probably try to eat me." While a small trip into the Shroud may be fine. Or going straight to Frhanz's cottage, he felt uncomfortable in the presence of all the elementals. It was as if they knew his secret. And worse, what he was, what he had been, and what he was now.


"And Limsa Lominsa just isn't the place for me. Can't say I've ever been to the city itself." Technically truth. The man sitting before them had never stepped into La Noscea. At least, not that he would have remembered.


Naturally, the gloam around Mor'Dhona gave most people aethersickness. Many would not choose to live there, so he could omit it. And of course, it wasn't as if he could tell these people he was a Garlean. Thrown out of Garlemald proper, as a failed experiment. One could say he finally had a handle on his life, due to some recent events, and he planned to keep it that way.


"I may have only been here a few moons, but there are still many things I don't know, including the people." He gave a friendly smile to Erik and Yangh. Hopefully thy'd believe him.

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Yangh giggled lightly as his answer, hints of half truths but she neither cared nor pried into another's business.


She took another sip before speaking. "Yangh also like Uhl'daah... not as much as Yangh like Sagolii but Ulh'daah is where need be. Yangh visit Eshgardhe once, as before snow, hills green. Many moon's ago... not think Yangh would like so much these sun. Yangh like heat!" she said happily. "Fuhrhanze ever visit Sagolii?"

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"Only but a few times. Most recently, to the Forgotten Springs." 

He thought back in Frhanz's memories of Ishgard. The man had never gone to Ishgard, let alone anywhere in Coerthas after the Calamity. He couldn't imagine it covered in snow.


Looking to Erik now, "and you? What do you think of this city?" Franz was unaware of Erik's work, or any of those he normally associated with.

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"Ul'dah is my adopted home." he paused, glancing at Yangh wondering if had told her this story. "I moved here about twenty years ago." Sipping his drink he continues, "I have been in service to the city for the entirety of the time." he said as he popped the collar of his uniform with his free hand.

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Yangh canted her head, sipping at her wine delicately as she listened in on the story. Erik didn't know... most people didn't either, but Yangh knew a lot about many people that frequented the Quicksand... even Ul'dah in general.


She wasn't always just a Priestess, after all.


She played along just the same. "Ah! Ehreek not born and raise in Uhl'daah?" she asked.

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He listened to the story intently. It was nice to have met someone who wasn't born and raised in the city they were in. Comforting. While he certainly could recall a childhood, it wasn't Franz's. 


But there was some business he would need to attend to later. Using a moment of opportunity, he stood up. "I'd like to thank the two of you for the company, and allowing me to take part. May we meet again, under similar circumstances." 


Walking to a nearby server, he handed some gil and pointed to the table. He would pay the cost of the drinks and snacks. He gave Erik and Yangh a short bow, and left the Quicksand.

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