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A Forlorn Fortnight 【Complete】


Nero

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They believed his story.

 

Roen was still trying to digest the news that Ser Crofte had shared with her. Both she and Natalie believed Jameson Taeros to be innocent--and that Nero was the one trying to frame him.

 

They believed that the somnus that was being smuggled in was for legal purposes, and that Roen and Nero’s interference had only handicapped their efforts to find a somnus dealer. Both the Sultansworns still believed that Taeros was innocent of having any hand in her somnus poisoning, and it was now obvious that the Monetarist noble was using that belief to weasle out of an arrest.

 

There must be another way, the paladin told herself, trying to extinguish the resentment and outrage that continued to simmer on the edge of her thoughts. She did not expect that Natalie, of all people, would harbor any loyalty to the Monetarist who was directly responsible for disgracing them in the first place. But then again, she could never truly predict Natalie’s rash decision making or her actions. But Ser Crofte...

 

Roen had thought, at the very least, that she seemed to want to find the truth, even if she was not willing to arrest Taeros for the somnus shipment.

 

But with Taeros’ arrest on hold, Roen knew there was going to be no easy way to get Daegsatz freed from the gaols. She was struggling with the thought of how to share this news when the cell door opened and she saw the Roegadyn curled up into a ball, groaning.

 

The basket in her hand was quickly laid on the ground. Roen knelt by his form, one hand going to his forehead. Her practiced healer's gaze studied his complexion, and she suspected what he told her the sun before was true.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked, but from his expression, she already knew the answer.

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Daegsatz waved a helpless hand against the source of the voice. "Not so loud," the Roegadyn said. "It be...takin' a few suns...ta adjust ta land...then I be right as rain..." He continued his swaying motion as his stomach made an ungodly rumble noise, as if growling its own protest to the circumstances. "Beggin' yer pardon, lass...I not be in a conversati'nal mood right now, aye...?"

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Roen grimaced, knowing that look and disposition all too well. Unfortunately, this was no disease or wound that she could close with conjury. She leaned away from his waving hand and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I understand. I will leave you be. I hope…you feel better soon.”

 

She rose, retrieving the basket and laying it near the Roegadyn. “I did bring some ginger water. Perhaps that will ease some of the nausea. And some bread. I know that helps me somewhat.”

 

The paladin exhaled, regarding the man with consternation for a moment longer before moving toward the door. She would share the news of his imprisonment another day; Daegsatz needed no more burdens laid on him. Not when he was like this, at any rate.

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Day 5

 

With some luck, the squirming and twisting of Daegsatz' stomach had begun to settle as the sun passed its zenith. It was with a strange feeling that he actually felt grateful for the gaol; it was built with imprisonment in mind and was well insulated from Thanalan's oppressive heat. The landsickness was still present--it was likely it would not fully dissipate until Daegsatz found himself on a ship, or at least by the coast--but the discomforting nausea was brought down to a manageable level as he began to scrawl another elaborate art piece on to a piece of parchment. His movements were slow and deliberate as he sat on the floor of the gaol, bringing the quill across the parchment to form a detailed line on the feathers of an albatross.

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Exasperating.

 

That was the word she had picked out early this morn for Nero Lazarov, and after having spent the entirety of a day with him in Stonesthrow, ending with a dinner at Pearl Lane...she could think up a few more.

 

Arrogant. Smug. Infuriating.

 

Roen rattled off these words in her head as she made her way through the corridor leading to Daegsatz’ cell. She at least had the piece of mind to order one more warmwater trout from Soldier’s Club before leaving Pearl Lane. Just because she still harbored ire towards his captain did not mean Daegsatz had to feel the extension of it.

 

As Roen recalled the pitiful expression on the First Mate’s face yesterday, she reminded herself to tuck away her annoyance regarding the pirate captain; Roen did not intend on this visit being anything but pleasant for the prisoner. She was inwardly thankful when she found him sketching again, for it showed he was feeling at least a little better than yesterday.

 

She laid the basket near him, gingerly taking out a lidded bowl. Roen opened it to study the contents within before setting it next to Daegsatz. “Warmwater trout with plenty of salt. Since Mister Lazarov seemed to enjoy it, I thought you might too.” Despite her best efforts, her voice sounded more than a little irked when she said the smuggler’s name.

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Daegsatz glanced up at the paladin. Roen's face was creased with annoyance, and the way she said Nero's name in an almost biting tone was a fairly clear implication. Though the Roegadyn himself did not possess much skill for deception, Roen was evidently worse, and her emotions seemed just barely veiled. 

 

The Sea Wolf raised an eyebrow in consternation. "'Preciate it as always, lass, but ye be seemin' like ye bit inta somethin' mighty awful." Daegsatz noted with some amusement that there were no utensils included with the meal, though he did not mind much, reaching a large hand into the bowl and touching the fish gingerly. It was still warm, but not hot to the touch. He pulled a sizeable chunk out, keeping his hand close so as to prevent the flesh from crumbling, and delivered the morsel to his mouth. Nero's penchant for salt was something Daegsatz never understood, but it did seem like it had been quite a while since the Roegadyn had consumed salt, and so he relished the simple taste all the same.

 

"S'pose this 'as somethin' ta do with the lad, eh? 'E do somethin' foolish?" Daegsatz questioned as he continued his detailing of the albatross. His stomach still roiled somewhat with queasiness, but luckily it did not seem to impede the consumption of the trout.

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Roen winced. She really wished she was not so easy to read. No point in trying to hide things now.

 

“He is…absolutely…infuriating.” She groaned. “What did you call him the other day? A massive pain. That would do.” Roen found that once she started, it quickly became easier to just let her annoyance be known. After all, who better to talk about the smuggler than his First Mate?

 

“A roguish pirate chasing skirts. I should know better than to expect anything else.” She slumped down onto the cot, rubbing her face. “Your captain and I are…oil and water. Either we are arguing, or he is just plain trying to fluster me.” She gave Daegsatz an exasperated look. “I do not mind the arguments. I knew he and I saw things fundamentally differently from the start. And oddly enough, perhaps that is what drew me to him. That despite our differences, we still wanted the same thing.”

 

The paladin sighed and leaned back against the wall. Perhaps it was Daegsatz’s forthright nature or his simple but intuitive wisdom that she found in him an easy outlet for the frustrations that had occupied her mind of late. “But why must he always try to have an upper hand in every exchange we have? It is as if he takes unique pleasure in seeing me stammer and falter. That man! He is just so...so...”

 

Roen finally paused in her rant to take a breath, wrinkling her nose. She gave Roegadyn a look of apology at the sudden string of grumblings and grouses. She reminded herself that she was here to make his day better, not fill it with her troubles. She shrugged.

 

“So...how are you?” she finally asked awkwardly.

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The Roegadyn could not help but grin at the paladin's raving. In all of the years he had known Nero, Daegsatz was aware of the former's tendency to infuriate and aggravate whoever he came across for his own amusement, yet this was the first instance in which one of those people had come to him to vent that frustration. He patted her shoulder sympathetically with a large hand.

 

"Let it all out, lass, ye be feelin' bett'r that way," Daegsatz consoled her. "I been dealin' with 'im fer near twenty cycles. 'Es like 'is father; s'pose I've done naught but build a tolerance fer it." He dug into another chunk of the fish as he put the completed sketch of the albatross away. His stomach roiled in protest but the Sea Wolf ignored it.

 

"Nev'r known th' lad ta be one fer arguments, though. Usually 'e be too lazy. What were ye on about?" the Roegadyn said with some curiosity.

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The paladin blinked. Not one for arguments? Well he certainly could have fooled me.

 

Roen exhaled, the Roegadyn’s soothing sentiments allowing some composure to return. She pushed off the wall, straightening in her seat. She gave Daegsatz a thoughtful cant of her head.

 

“How to better Ul’dah,” she said simply. “He is bent on violence and bloodshed, claiming them as his only means. Going as far as damning himself to be evil and cruel. He wants to fix Ul’dah so badly that he is willing to destroy it and himself in the process. And in the aftermath of it all..." She scowled. "He will leave it to others to build upon the ruins that he has left in his wake.”

 

Her voice grew sober, her eyes seeking the Sea Wolf’s gaze for some sense of understanding. “And I…believe somewhere inside of him, he does not wish that path. He does not wish to pass that judgement upon himself. That he too can belong in the world he worked so hard to change. That he is a good person. He must be, to want what he wants. I believe people can change things without giving themselves to the darkness. I want him to see that. For himself, and for everyone else.”

 

Roen folded her hands upon her lap, looking at Daegsatz intently. “You have known him for twenty cycles. He is your family. Surely, you can tell me...am I wrong in believing this?”

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Daegsatz sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Nero, generally speaking, kept his political views to himself, a trait that Daegsatz and the rest of the crew of the Forte appreciated. Pirates being pirates, the concerns of the oppressed and the severity of social injustices, perceived or real, did not really matter to them so long as they did not feel the direct effects. Suffice to say, it was more of a concern to Daegsatz on an average day about whether or not the new crewmembers have gotten the black powder wet or if there was enough rum to last a trip. Nero understood and respected that simplicity, and had never let his politics get in the way of keeping the men under his command fed and paid.

 

It was a simple policy that the Roegadyn had followed since he'd served under Vail: keep coin in the pocket, food in the belly, loyalty in the crew, and everything else was so much gravy.

 

And now it seemed that Nero's politics was being extended to Roen. 

 

"I be tellin' ye before that I not be one fer gossip, an' that be true," the Sea Wolf said hesitantly. As much as he wanted to assuage the paladin's concerns, Daegsatz was nonetheless a principled man, and did his best to adhere to those principles. "I not be tryin'a keep things from ye 'cause I don't trust ye, lass, it be out of respect fer me captain." He sighed again, the heave escaping from his lips like bellows being stepped on. "I s'pose I can tell ye this much, lass. Ye must've seen it; beneath ev'ry jest an' smile, there be anger. And where there be anger, there be pain."

 

Daegsatz coughed into his arm, glancing at Roen. "If'n Nero be engagin' in...somethin' desperate, it be because 'e's found th' alternatives lackin'."

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The paladin nodded, for she had glimpsed that anger; Nero had held it in check throughout their dinner conversation, but it was there, smoldering beneath the surface. She had suspected there was some deep-seeded wound--or many wounds--that festered beneath the surface and fed his pain. But hearing it from Daegsatz’s mouth confounded her less where Nero Lazarov was concerned. Her befuddlement was starting to shift towards sympathy for the smuggler.

 

“Well, there are alternatives. I must believe it to be so. Rampant violence cannot be the only way to affect change.” Roen said quietly, her conviction clear in every word. She leaned forward, elbows against her knees, turning her head to regard the Sea Wolf closely. She offered him a small smile. “I suppose I will have to convince him of that.”

 

She looked the Roegadyn over again with scrutiny, eyeing his complexion, his posture. She set aside all the questions she had about Nero; Roen did not want to continue to prod the First Mate when he seemed so staunchly protective of his captain’s privacy. It only added to her belief that the two were close, that they inspired such loyalty in each other.

 

The paladin eyed the parchment he had put away earlier, leaning to the side as if to get a better look. “I spied your earlier sketch. You are quite skilled. Where did you learn to draw like that?”

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Daegsatz gave a shrug, somewhat grateful for the shift in topic. The Roegadyn had an earnest belief that every man had a right to represent themselves on their own grounds, and thus gossip or second-hand knowledge of a man not only forfeited that same right, but also skewed the image others had of that man. It was, perhaps, unusual for a Sea Wolf to be so self-conscious on social etiquette. Vail was to thank for that.

 

He was, however, more than happy to talk about himself. "Dexterity be a natural part o' bein' a sailor," Daegsatz explained. "S'pose most peoples be havin' troubles imaginin' Sea Wolves like meself bein' able ta climb riggin'." He held a hand out and flexed his fingers. "When ye be livin' at sea, ye learn ta adapt. Ye learn ta match yer motions ta those o' the ship. As fer drawin' specifically," the Roegadyn shrugged again. "Made me start as a sailor copyin' maps fer my captain. I be findin' the activity calmin'. 'ventually it become me hobby o' sorts."

 

He cocked an eye at Roen. "Ye be havin' yerself an artistic side to ye, lass?"

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Roen cupped her chin with one hand, still leaning against her knee as she examined Daegsatz's fingers. She noted the various calluses to his hands--the hard evidence of working the ropes and up in the riggings, she supposed. Roen grew amazed at the fine coordination it took to create the sketches he had, knowing now it was without any formal lessons. She had his last gifting--the one of an island--still laid out in her room.

 

The paladin made a face when the question turned her way. “Ah. Well…I cannot say my lack of skill in the arts is for lack of trying, at least where my parents were concerned. I never had the patience to sit for too long to learn an instrument or the ways of a brush. Much to the chagrin of my teachers and nannies.”

 

Then as if recalling something, Roen straightened with a bright smile. “But dancing, that I could do. It was like sword play. Coordination of the feet and arms, balance, and spins.” Her voice grew wistful. “And I remember, vaguely, that my mother was a wonderful dancer. So graceful was she. One of my first lessons was from her. I stood on her feet as she held my arms aloft.”

 

Roen fell silent, letting that memory linger in her thoughts for a little longer. She took a sharp breath in when it faded, turning her attention back to Daegsatz. “Is there anything else I can get you? Has your landsickness calmed a bit? I will be seeing your captain again on the morrow, we…may have a full day."

 

Her smile was hopeful. "I will return after, if I can.”

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Daegsatz waved an idle hand at her. "If ye be seein' 'im again, lass, I only ask ye watch 'im in me place." The statement was twofold in nature: one was the earnest request of the Roegadyn for her to care for his ward. The other was a subtle warning that Nero may end up doing something rash.

 

Nero had taken after Vail in more ways than one. Both were daring, reckless even. The surest way to make either one of them accomplish a task was to make the task a challenge, an injury to their pride. Daegsatz knew not how well Roen knew Nero, but he could guess from her tone that the two of them would be doing...something. And like anything that was unknown, it was potentially dangerous. They had only been conversing for a few suns, but the Sea Wolf was hopeful that the paladin's presence would temper the smuggler's impulsiveness. There was a certain way Nero threw himself into everything he did that implied more than a simple adventurous spirit.

 

"As fer bringin' me somethin', bring yerself back in one piece. I be mighty honored ta see one o' yer dances one day," the Roegadyn said rather cheerily as he began to scrawl away at another piece of parchment.

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Roen pursed her lips to suppress a grin.

 

“I will do what I can,” she said quietly with a nod. “And...as for a dance,” she chuckled as she rose. “Perhaps. It has been many cycles since I took my last lesson.” Roen tried to recall when it was that she danced last. Reminiscence of her younger years did not seem to bring with it a melancholy, as she feared it would. She wondered if it was the honest company she was sharing it with. Daegsatz did not seem to be the kind to pass judgement on people.

 

She glanced at him bent over another parchment and told herself to bring plenty more sheafs of parchment. And ink. It seemed to bring the Roegaydyn a measure of peace, even while jailed.

 

Perhaps on the morrow I could have an exciting tale about how Nero and I retrieved some supplies for the refugees, Roen mused as she signaled for the guard.

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Day 6

 

It was paradoxically surprising and expected when Roen did not come to visit him the next day. She had mentioned that whatever activity they would be doing would likely take all day, yet Daegsatz found himself looking at the door to his cell more often than not. The sun had passed it zenith and Daegsatz had used the remainder of the parchment; the most recent sketches had been laid out on the cot to let the ink dry fully. The rest were placed in a neat stick against a corner. The images were vivid and myriad; a tidal wave, an albatross, an island shore, a fleet of ships, a tornado, an array of cutlasses, a bonfire. The theme of the images seemed to sway between image evocative of the sea and whatever else the Roegadyn had been thinking of at the time.

 

So Roen was now in regular contact with Nero. Daegsatz could only wonder about the progress of that relationship. The paladin was certainly attractive enough--for a Hyur anyway--for the smuggler to make his usual lecherous comments and flirtations. With some amusement, the Sea Wolf recalled her exasperated venting from the previous day. She had called him a skirt-chaser, a term Daegsatz had never heard before, yet the term itself was descriptive enough as to what it meant.

 

What would he tell his captain if Nero were in front of him? Treat her well would have been Daegsatz' primary sentiment. Roen was a kind woman, and strangely enough the Sea Wolf felt compelled to come to her (imaginary) defense; she did not deserve whatever barbs and prods that Nero inevitably threw at her.

 

Daegsatz found his mind wandering to the other crew. He was still saddened by the deaths of Martin and Liam at the Silver Bazaar, cut down by the thugs they were supposedly delivering the goods to; they were a rowdy and aggressive set of brothers, but well-meaning in their own way. Garalt, as well, had likely thrown up a storm at the news that the Sea Wolf had been captured. With a soft smile, Daegsatz only hoped that he had not demolished the Forte in his rare fits of rage.

 

He leaned against the corner of the gaol, the last feelings of nausea gradually ebbing away. Hopefully it would be not much longer now. Hopefully.

 

Day 7

 

The parchments had all been stacked into the corner, and Daegsatz groaned as he lay on the cot. There was naught much more he could do now but spend his time sleeping. He was grateful that there was no more nausea, but that feeling had been replaced with inexorable boredom. There was nothing to focus his mind on; he had been reduced to counting the cracks running on the ceiling in order to keep his mind from going rampant.

 

How long had be been here? About seven suns, the Roegadyn blearily reminded himself. How much longer until he was free? Daegsatz had been forced into a brig before, but usually not for more than a few suns at a time, as space and cargo on a ship was valuable and a prisoner consumed both.

 

Not much longer now, he hoped. Not much longer now.

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The paladin’s footsteps were heavy as she approached the cell, her shoulders slack and the basket in her hand hanging low in front of her. Her gaze was bowed with troubled thoughts, the events of the day before still weighing heavily on her mind.

 

The deaths of the bandits and the Brass Blade, the heated words exchanged between she and Nero...it all still mired her thoughts in indignation and disquiet.

 

But what her memories always came to linger on, what pitted her insides and churned her stomach, was the tragic tale of the little girl’s death, the one that died with hopes in her heart, her innocent life crushed by the cruelty of Ul’dah.

 

“How do you know such horrors…?” Roen had asked. Nero had given her no answer.

 

Indeed, Nero Lazarov harbored deep wounds, and he had witnessed hardships that most were ignorant of, of this Roen now had no doubt. Such loss would twist anyone’s morals, rob them of their idealism, and skew their view of the world. She was beginning to understand the anger that drove the man. But it only cemented her own belief that she could not stand idly by and watch him throw himself into a darkness of his own making.

 

But she knew not how to go about helping him.

 

As the cell door was opened for her, the sight of the restless Roegadyn laying on the cot pulled her out of her bleak reverie. Roen mustered what cheerful smile she could for the First Mate, despite the heaviness that still pressed against her chest.

 

When the cell door locked behind her, the paladin turned her attention to the basket, busying her hands with its contents as she settled to a seat near the cot on the ground. “I brought you something else to read." She pulled it from the basket. "It is my own copy of the memoir I mentioned before. I could not find Mister Bellveil for another, but since I finished reading mine..." She shrugged. "I thought you could gain some amusement from it.” She lifted her voice as much as she could, consciously trying to remember some of the humorous tales. “And more parchment and ink.”

 

Roen frowned, noting the stack of sketches in the corner. Daegsatz had been diligently drawing to pass the time. How many suns had it been that he has been in the gaols? She had not made any headway in trying to get him freed from the dungeons since Taeros had eluded his arrest. The paladin had pondered on what other avenues she could pursue, but her recent outing with the smuggler had torn her attention away from the Roegadyn’s plight.

 

The paladin bowed her head to hide her shame. “My apologies for…yesterday. It took longer than I thought.” Her words rang hollow, what forced buoyancy that accompanied her sentiments beginning to fade.

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Daegsatz lifted his head and nodded in sympathy. "Ye've got priorities that be more pressin' than visitin' an ol' sailor in th' brig," he said in an understanding tone. In truth, the isolation was beginning to take its toll on the Sea Wolf, though he'd only been in the gaols for seven suns. It was only when one was forced to sit through endless bells alone that one realised how dangerous it was to the mind to be left alone for so long. He swung his legs off the cot and leaned forward, folding his hands together as he glanced at the paladin in consternation.

 

Roen looked...tired. Exhausted. It was not merely physical fatigue, but something afflicted her mind. It was in the stiff way she spoke, the way she subconsciously avoided his gaze, her conflicted expression. Daegsatz was not nearly as good at reading expressions as Nero, who could likely tell if a rock was lying, but the Roegadyn did have a certain amount of intuition, and Roen was always forthright in her expressions.

 

The paladin did make an effort to visit him every day; the least he could do in return was to hear her out and perhaps ease her discomfort with words, cheap as they were.

 

"Whatev'r be 'appenin' last sun be weighin' on yer mind, lass," Daegsatz said earnestly. "Mayhaps ye be needin' ta speak yer mind 'bout it?"

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Roen stared at her hands that lay still upon her lap, the rest of the contents of the basket untouched. Daegsatz’s prodding was gentle, as if to coax a wary animal out of hiding. In the few suns that she had known the Roegadyn, she had come to feel relaxed around him, voicing her thoughts easily without apprehension. There was also no one else who would understand her predicament with his captain better than his First Mate.

 

But it was more than that. Daegsatz had lived the life of a sailor, a pirate, much as Nero had. That afforded him a certain different perspective in life, and perhaps that was what she was seeking. She knew nothing of the smuggler, but this Roegadyn had shared Nero’s way of life and had raised him from boy to man; in knowing what Daegsatz thought, perhaps Roen would glean something about the mystery of the pirate captain himself. Roen also found that Daegsatz’s honest but simple viewpoint was something she needed. It was in such contrast to his captain, who continuously challenged her at every turn.

 

“Do you know how I met your captain?” The paladin asked thoughtfully, her pensive gaze drifting to the stony floor of the gaol. “I was following him because I thought him a business associate with a Monetarist noble I was investigating.” She furrowed her brows at the memory. “But he did not turn out at all to be who I thought him to be.”

 

Roen flicked Daegsatz a sidelong glance. “Here I was investigating one man, and your captain opens my eyes to the needs of so many more.” She sighed, her shoulders sinking again. “I knew of the plight of the poor and the refugees, but I never truly saw it. Your captain has though. I can see that now. And…while I want to help him, I have no idea how.

 

She leaned back against the wall with a helpless shrug. “Yesterday, it was made clear to me that his plans, his ways, are far more violent than I would have ever imagined.” She looked up at the ceiling, her head leaning back against the wall. “And I realized, I have no plan of my own to fix Ul’dah. I just never…thought of it. But now, my mind is awhirl trying to think up solutions less violent than his. There must be a way. Despite how naive or foolish he thinks me.”

 

The paladin looked to the Roegadyn seated on the cot with a swivel of her head. Daegsatz was listening to her intently, and she could tell by the pensive wrinkling of his forehead that perhaps he was conflicted again, not wanting to break his captain’s confidence.

 

Roen just smiled weakly, shaking her head. She did not expect him to share secrets of Nero’s past. She offered instead, one of her own. “I used serve the Brass Blades, for a short time at least. My time there was…trying.” She frowned but kept her voice even. “After I left, I did not want to come back. But now…now I see that I can work with the contacts I made, to try and change it from within.” She inhaled, pushing herself off the wall. “You see? Your captain did this. He opened my eyes to the possibilities that I did not want to consider before.”

 

What small hope that rose with that statement was quickly extinguished by doubt. “But he knows only of brutal means to achieve his goals. I see glimpses of the good man that he is inside; he must be, for him to want to help those who cannot help themselves. But with what he has seen, the anger and pain that resides within him, can I hope to change him from his violent course?” Roen looked to the Roegadyn imploringly. She hoped he would have the answers that she did not.

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Daegsatz was conflicted. On the one hand, he did not want to trod on Nero's privacy, but on the other hand, he did sincerely want to calm Roen's concerns. It would be so easy to just give everything away, to just explain everything about Nero's mannerisms and the effects of his past to her. She might then be able to understand him as the Sea Wolf did, and while it would not have made whatever Nero was doing more acceptable, it might have alleviated her concerns and grievances. She had said that she saw glimpses of a good man in Nero, and Daegsatz agreed; that good man, the one who cared for his ship and his crew, was the captain he followed. That man was the one whom Daegsatz swore on his life that he would watch over.

 

The smuggler had confided in exactly two people since coming to Limsa Lominsa. One was Daegsatz, and the other...well, she was no longer in the picture, to say the least. Vail himself had never particularly cared about his foster son's past; he had believed that the past should stay where it belonged. Even so, Nero did not divulge details whenever he had spoken to Satz; the Hyur had, as a teenager, spoken at length about his planned future, and the Sea Wolf could tell that a deep-seated anger simmered beneath the surface, and could discern much of what drove Nero.

 

But what could he tell Roen? Was this a choice he would have to make? Keep his captain's confidentiality, or betray it even if it was for Nero's sake?

 

Daegsatz did not consider himself a man of many moral quandaries. Life was for the most part simple, just the way he liked it. He briefly bit his lip, considering what to do. What would Vail have done? Vail would have gone about it as blunt as a hammer; if he felt someone needed to know something, he would have told them.

 

And Daegsatz did trust the paladin. She seemed to be the only one who remembered that he still existed in this city. The other Sultansworn who had made the arrest seemed to have forgotten about him. The guard was only there as a deterrent. Roen was really the only friend he had right now.

 

The Sea Wolf groaned and rubbed his forehead, making his choice. In the end, this was for Nero's sake.

 

"Ye not be wrong, lass," he began quietly. "Ye been seein' th' signs of a good man, a good leader. 'E be under there, the cap'n who cares fer 'is crew and 'is ship, 'is family and 'is brothers. I fear fer 'im." Daegsatz shook his head. "I know, ev'n if only smatterin' details, 'bout the bloody swath 'e be tryin' ta cut. I fear th' only way ta dissuade 'im will be to let 'is path run its course."

 

He leaned back, the cot creaking under the Roegadyn's bulk. "Ye be sayin' ye 'ad no plan 'fore meetin' 'im, lass. Ye ever consider that mayhaps, ye not be needin' one?" Daegsatz cocked an eye at the paladin. "Plans be made ta go wrong. Is it not enough ta simply be helpin' where ye be thinkin' it matters?" He spread an arm, gesturing to the gaol and the city of Ul'dah that lay beyond the heavy door. "Ye be wantin' ta change this place...a noble goal. Change not be comin' easy. Is it not enough ta dedicate yerself to th' people? Ye care fer 'em, an' will guard 'em best ye can."

 

Another sigh. "It...mayhaps it be true that th' lad be too far gone," Daegsatz admitted quietly. "'e spoke o' nightmares as a boy, ye know. Wakin' up screamin' bloody murder when 'e naught be younger than fifteen cycles. 'E never spoke o' what 'e saw...but it not be takin' a man much imagination ta guess." The Sea Wolf shook his head forlornly. "Men that close ta breakin'...it not be easy ta pull 'em back from th' edge."

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A frown creased her brows as Roen regarded the Sea Wolf. Even Daegsatz was voicing some doubt, fearing that Nero could be too far gone. Perhaps it was her stubbornness that refused to accept it, or that she did not want to consider the possibility yet. She wanted to believe that the Roegadyn was just trying to warn her of things should they ever turn dire. Surely if Daegsatz truly thought that Nero was already lost, he would not have shown such loyalty and compassion towards his captain so far.

 

“I always thought it was enough if I just dedicated myself to others, held to my Oath,” Roen answered him, shifting the topic to something other than Nero. “That the difference I could make every day--fulfilling my duty, helping those in need--was something. That it was enough.” She let out a wistful sigh. “I never thought, or saw, beyond that.”

 

The paladin paused, recalling a memory. “When I was in the gaols, I was approached by a Flame Sergeant who told me that I had to make a choice. I had not known what he meant then, but now I think I do. I think…somehow he saw this path that lay before me. This obligation to do more.

 

The look Roen then gave to Daegsatz was tinged with doubt. “But I am not sure I know what to do. I am not some Light, as he believes me to be. I am just me. All I can do is…” she paused, searching for words, but there were none that could aptly encompass what she meant. She sighed and peered up at the Roegadyn again. “I can only help where I think it matters.” She echoed his words softly.

 

When Daegsatz answered her gaze with a nod, she gave him a small smile. “My mother once told me kindness is a treasure we can all give freely. I always try to live by those words. I may not have a plan, but I will care for who I can. Guard them best I can.” She repeated his words back to him again, this time her own voice steady with conviction.

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Such a kind, earnest heart was a rare sight. Daegsatz was not nearly the cynic that his captain was, but even the Sea Wolf could see the gentleness that permeated Roen's demeanor. Here was a person who truly did want the best for everyone. It was naive, perhaps, but very admirable.

 

"Then would that not be enough?" the Roegadyn asked softly. "Ye be doin' everythin' ye can. Guardin' who ye can. Providin' for who ye can. Who be givin' a toss 'bout a grand scheme? Ye be doin' everythin' in yer power ta improve the lives o' the people 'round ye. Can anyone be askin' much more from ye than that? Yer resolve be waverin' 'cause th' lad be claimin' ye not be doin' enough."

 

He patted her shoulder. "Were I ye, I be tellin' 'im ta sod off. Ye be doin' much more fer th' people ye care about than anyone who be too busy schemin' from the shadows ta act."

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The paladin curled a wistful smile for Daegsatz. “But what if I want to help him too? I cannot just let him be.”

 

Roen let those words fade as reached for the basket again, taking out what food she had brought: a grilled dodo this time, along with some parsnip salad. Her movements were somewhat slowed, her thoughts returned to Nero of course; the smuggler and his mission had been the sole occupants of her thoughts of late. She frowned when she realized this as she handed the dish to the Sea Wolf.

 

“I am going to speak to Ser Crofte tomorrow.” She shifted the topic again. “Surely, there must be something more that can be done to get you released.” Roen began to tidy up the parchments she had laid out, turning away from the Roegadyn to hide her look of disappointment. She did not want to say that she had received no assistance from Ser Crofte or any of the Sworns involved in the raid. Kage had been distant, and Natalie... well, Roen had been avoiding her altogether.

 

Coatleque was her best hope. She would look to the Highlander Sworn to help free Daegsatz from the gaols. Perhaps if she was to arrange for a meeting between the Sultansworn and the smuggler, and Coatleque saw that Nero was not a threat, she would extend that same reasoning to his First Mate.

 

“Perhaps I will have more news for you on the morrow,” She reassured him as she stood. “We will get you out of here yet.”

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Daegsatz nodded his gratitude. "I be twistin' at th' thought that ye be goin' ta so much effort fer me," the Roegadyn said rather sheepishly, tracing a circle on his trousers as he sat on the cot. He offered Roen a helpless grin. "No matter how ye be spinnin' it, I still be a criminal, an' a pirate." After that, he cocked an eye at her. "Ye be tryin'a free all th' criminals that be makin' their ways inta yer gaols? Ah, no matter."

 

The Sea Wolf stood up to face Roen, only to hunch over slightly so they were at eye level. "Ye be havin' a good heart, lass," Daegsatz said earnestly. "Ye take care not ta lose it; compassion be in short supply in dark times." A large finger gave the paladin a light poke in the chest, as if to warn her. Daegsatz' tone became stern, yet gentle. "Ye not be compromisin' on anythin' when it comes ta yer principles, aye? Principles be what makes a man. If'n ye be losin' that, ye may well be dead."

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Criminal and a pirate, Daegsatz called himself. Roen could not refute these claims.

 

And yet, as the paladin searched the Roegayn’s eyes as he bent to meet hers, she could not accept that that was all he was. His words of wisdom, his belief in protecting one’s principles and the value he placed on a person’s compassion...

 

The label of a pirate and a criminal fell woefully short. Despite his chosen way of life, Daegsatz, beneath it all, had a benevolent heart.

 

Was it then that his upbringing made that choice for him? That the Sea Wolf would raid and steal from others, even if a part of him valued kindness and morality in the world? What if many such as he never knew another way of life? Did they even have a choice? In a sea of predators, they surely needed to do more than avoid getting eaten, but did they need to prey on each other to survive?

 

Roen hoped that in coming to understand this dichotomy--where a good man would lead a violent life--she would better understand Daegsatz…and in turn, his captain as well.

 

“No matter what you have done, you would not be here if it were not for me,” Roen said quietly, her words tinged with remorse. “So I will do what I can.” She glanced down at her chest where he had poked her. “And I will heed your advice. I have sworn an Oath to serve and I will hold to it.” She peered back up at the Roegadyn with a solemn nod. “For without it, I would be lost.”

 

The paladin then gave him a gentle smile, regarding his large frame. “You are the one in the gaols. and yet you lend me words of comfort. Gratitude.” She gave him a bow before turning for the barred door to signal the jailor once more.

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