Editorial: The Light Fades

[GloryRhodes]

by Tonberry's Lantern Staff

 

It is well known that here at The Lantern we publish many stories concerning the Sultansworn, and that they are often critical.  A recent advertisement we accepted from Citizens Against Corruption might even suggest that we've taken a stance in direct opposition to the proud defenders of our beloved jewel, but this is a misconception.

 

Whatever the personal opinions of the staff here might be, The Lantern is not opposed to the Sworn as an organization.  We're not sure how anyone can be.  The creed of the Sultansworn of Ul'Dah is the very definition of righteousness.  The Paladins exist as an organization to protect the House of Ul, but they are more than that.  They are the shining examples of justice and truth in a city so often taken to a vicious mercantile survivalism and outright deceit.  Sworn are meant to be the incorruptible beacon of light in this city of darkness, but they have fallen.

 

The most prominent of the Sultansworn at this time is Coatleque Crofte, a woman who we here at The Lantern have discussed at length, but whom few properly know.  Her hard, unflappable exterior is the very definition of a Paladin.  No matter the situation or struggle, she maintains a calm demeanor and fair hand.  When confronted by a rebel in a refugee camp, she was assaulted with a chamber pot, but maintained her calm and dignity despite being covered in filth.  She drew no weapon, and she made no threats, but even she is blanketed in the shadow of corruption.

 

Her relationship with Jameson Taeros, a Monetarist noble has been much discussed in our offices, but no proof has been established.  Why, then, do we doubt her?  The answer lies with the other Sworn, those who are threatening to bring this proud organization to its knees.

 

Ser Natalie McBeef, late of the Sultansworn of Ul'Dah, has been decisively linked to illegal activities in Limsa Lominsa, particularly the raid of a warehouse in Moraby where several members of The Maelstrom were engaged in battle.  She lost her life in the raid, which is the only reason why Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn has not openly sought retribution against The Sworn for Ser McBeef's actions.  Ser Crofte, having taken over Ser McBeef's duties, has come under The Admiral's scrutiny and could be first to walk the plank in Limsa should antagonism between The maelstrom and The Sworn continue.

 

Trainee Romy Leonhardt, newly accepted for the trials, is one of the most outspoken and well known of the most recent batch of prospective knights, is also the most controversial.  After recently regaining the ability to speak through aetheric surgeries, has made her voice heard in ways that shame the proud history of the Sworn.  In an incident in The Quicksand, a pair of zombified Moon Keepers confronted her.  Romy's response, rather than seek the help of fellow Sworn, or pass on the duty to the brass Blades, chose to cast off her Sworn armor and regail herself in black.  She then painted her face in a death mask, a traditional right of her people, according to her, and engaged in a one woman quest of bloody vengeance for, and we quote, scaring her.

 

Trainee Leonhardt is not a Sultansworn, and after that display we all hope she never will be.  She conducts herself as if she is one, however, and wears their armor.  The Lantern would like to make it a point that she has sworn no oaths and possesses no actual authority.  She is not a member of any form of law enforcement and should not be obeyed unless in the presence of her trainer, Ser Shas Tarry.

 

Trainee Aiden Church is another of this batch of most recent prospects, and has embarassed the Paladins through his actions on multiple occasions.  Earlier in this article we mentioned that Ser Crofte was assaulted with feces and was unfazed.  Trainee Church, meanwhile, heard Ser Crofte's name insulted and immediately flew into a rage, challenging the offender to a duel in front of a dozen witnesses.  During the duel he once again lost his temper and drew raw steel in what was meant to be unarmed combat.  When asked about this by Lantern reporters, Trainee Church told a story of Trainee Roysia Stone's threats against his life for interfering in a romantic entanglement.

 

Is this what The Sworn have come to?  Raucous children cast a dim light on the solemn dignity of the most noble post in Ul'Dah.  Is it so hard to believe Ser Crofte capable of injustice when this is the state of the Sworn today?

 

We here at the Lantern do not hate the Sworn, but we despise these pretenders to Knighthood.

[LiveVoltage]

After picking up and spending a good ten minutes reading the paper while drinking a cup of cofee at the quicksand, Inessa sighs as she plops the paper down on the table before her and rubs the bridge of her nose.

 

She remained silent through the massive headache of Drama that she has recently delve into concerning the current state of the political landscape between Nero, the Monetarists and the section of Sultansworn that Paladin crofte led.

 

Recently, due to Inessa's investigation's into the matter of finding Nero Lazarov, she has uncovered a rather shocking truth to the state of the Sultansworn sect under Crofte's command. They were begining to physically fall apart and become pawn's to the Monetarist Taeros Jameson. Crofte's rumored scandalous relationship, confirmed by several of her underling Paladin's did not help this. The entirety of her sect was jeopardized at that point. With the leadership in the Palm of Taeros hand, he was physically untouchable no matter what he did. The Paladin's would protect him and so would his brass blades. He practically had a small army at his command.

 

Many of the Paladin's were young as well, and reckless and very inexperienced. They wore shiny armor and got their soulstones and they practically became the military police of the city. it was sickening as to what the Paladin's of Ul'dah were becoming. At the rate they were going, a culling of their ranks would be inevitable. Inessa greatly worried for the future of Ul'dah and what direction this would take.

[Melkire]

Low rumbling chortles drifted down from the rafters as a midlander clad in brown leathers leaned back against a support beam and chucked the paper he'd been reading to the cobblestone floor below. Candlekeep Quay was quiet tonight... or rather, it had been, until his laughter had filled this warehouse. He sighed rather theatrically despite his lack of audience. 

 

"Crofte, Crofte, Crofte," he murmured, the smirk on his face slowly growing into a full-blown shite-eating grin. "Warned you about the quality."

 

The man glanced down for a moment at his copy of the Tonberry's Lantern, a pensive frown suddenly tarnishing his features. He snorted, then broke back into that sinister smile. 

 

"Just goes t'show," he grunted as he scratched his back and drew his bandana over his face to settle in for the night, "there's no such thing as good press."

[Berrod Armstrong]

Berrod Armstrong lifted his eyes to the short, dirty-blond highlander who sat opposite him at a table in the Quicksand. The crowd buzzed about them, but there were as a rock in the stream of activity. He had just finished reading the article out loud -- his companion had not been fortunate  or privileged enough to be taught his letters and numbers, munching on some bread and cheese while he listened. Even having heard the entire ordeal, the fellow narrowed his eyes in confusion. "I understand what the article says," He established. "But not what it means."

 

"What it means," Berrod began as he folded up the large print, "Is that they're backpedaling from that awful attempt at slandering to take another, proper try at it. Notice how they distanced themselves from it in the beginning of the article and then took forward on their own steam. They're trying to do it properly this time, Steeljaw."

 

Steeljaw the Highlander nodded slowly, then frowned. "But if what they wrote is true, doesn't that make them right?"

 

Berrod leaned back on the chair and set a hand onto the edge of the table, drumming the leather gauntleted fingers on the wood with a series of muted thuds. "I won't go into right and wrong about this," He murmured, "But it does not make them accurate, if that's what you mean. Two Sultansworn, three at the most, out of scores, if this is all to be believed. They're trying to paint the entire organization with the colors of the bad ones."

 

Steeljaw nodded again, clarity gaining fast within his countenance. The expression stalled for another grimace of bewilderment. "Wait -- are you defending the Sworn? I thought you despised them?"

 

The red-haired Highlander made a noise between his teeth. "I despise their hypocrisy and penchant for showing off. As people, I don't bear a grudge. Not anymore." It seemed physically painful for him to allow the admission. "I'm not sure what their end is here, those who wrote this article, but it's short sighted and foolish. These...irregularities in the Sworn should be taken up with the proper people to handle them. It'll just cause unrest with the people, and the last thing we need is another reason for the Blades to kill more refugees."

 

"...I didn't think of it that way."

 

"That's because I'm the one who took it upon myself to protect our people. I suppose we have some digging to do about how true all of this rubbish is. Hurry up and finish your bread so that we can get moving."

[Aldotsk]

Mizuho walked into Anelia's office with the paper handed down to her regarding the Sultansworn affairs. Anelia started reading it several times while gripping the paper tightly in frustration. She lowered it down in anger and narrowed her eyes with disgust.

 

"Crofte.... I knew there was something amiss with you and Taeros while Natalie was alive... but I didn't realize you'd lower yourself more than this... her... and now Leonhardt... " Anelia shudders and stood up to make ready of heading to Ul'dah.

 

"I understand where you are coming from, but you are no longer Sultansworn. You have a duty, and it is being a commander for our company. Not the sworn business." said Mizuho while looking at Anelia, blocking the door. Anelia glared at Mizuho and approached at the young Doman.

 

"I've been in this order for ten cycles. I need to speak with Jenlyns." said Anelia with a short breath, due to impatience.

 

"What are you going to do, if you talk with him? That you want to join back again and tell him that you'll fix it? You can't. You left because of their politics, but also you didn't want to endanger the order and Ul'dah while there is a culprit going after you." Mizuho snapped and stared up at Anelia's face with a strict tone. "Stay here. And do what's more important to you. To all of us."

 

Anelia frowned at Mizuho's statement but shook her head and she pushes Mizuho away to head out of her office. Anelia was clear about one thing. She felt betrayed by Crofte.

 

'Sultansworn.... Ul'dah.... It's beyond saving, and it's beyond corruption. Now that I know.'

[Gegenji]

Left on one of the Quicksand tables is a copy of the Tonberry's Lantern. It lays flipped open to the editorial written to describe the corruption that is slowly wasting the Sultansworn from within. Events of past and present of notable 'Sworn presented in the most ill light that can be cast upon it. The harshities of the language, however, have been dampened a bit by the doodles and drawings done over this particular copy.

 

On one side of it is a stick figure that is helpfully labelled as "Ser Kraft" in large, childish lettering. Her face is either that of cool composure, or that of someone staring blankly at an oddly colored Chocobo, it's hard to tell. At least the surprisingly accurate - in a childish sort of way - depiction of the 'Sworn's garb makes her look resplendent enough.

 

The name Jameson Taeros is underlined a couple times in red. It also has an arrow conveniently pointed to it and marked as "BADGUY!!!" along with a frowny face.

 

Below it and off to the side is another lady stick figure in armor, this time identified as "Ser Roamee." She has has sunglasses and the frowniest face ever seen presented in this form of artistic medium. At her side is a rather wicked looking sword, which is also surprisingly detailed, that cuts across the entire paragraph on Ser McBeef.

 

The bottom corners are of a gentleman apparently yelling at something - "Iden" by looks of it - and another female 'Sworn sitting on a couch and piercing it with her blade. This "Ros" is accompanied by what looks like the beginnings of a red-haired Miqo'te in a nice hat yelling at her, but the artist seemed to have lost interest at about neck level.

 

As for the artist himself, he was last seen heading out the Quicksand's main door followed by a baby behemoth.

[DoomsdayClock]

Sitting on a crate in Black Brush Station, Aiden flipped through the paper until he came across this article. His usual serious scowl remained plastered upon his face as he took in the words, and thought back to the interview he had with this woman not long ago.

When he reached his own portion though, a small smile began to shatter his icy expression, and the young man found himself chuckling out loud.

"There can be no denying me now...it's in the paper!" He called out, holding it up in the air for the random workers and peddlers to see.

"YOU SEE THIS?! I AM IN TRAINING!" He shouted before rising to his feet and folding it neatly, to tuck away within the chest plate of his armor.

Today was going to be a good day, he just knew it.

[Steel Wolf]

Steel had brushed a clawed hand through her hair in a weak attempt at fashioning it into a style suitable for public. She smirked and shook her head as she read over the Lantern.

 

The rag was always good for its editorials, and this one was certainly no exception. She had kept herself out of the intricacies of the Sultansworn for weeks now--not out of disgust of the order but disagreement on combat principle. It had turned out that the organization had seen some new arrivals mar the glistening veneer of the shield. If one were to take the synopsis of events at face value.

 

Steel shrugged her shoulders, voicing her opinion to the paper and the empty Quicksand inn room.

 

"Feh. Sounds like they're human t'me. Finally removin' th'reed outta their arse. But I s'ppose they're supposed to have spines of hammered mythril and hearts'a ice crystal."

 

Steel slapped the paper down on to the table and dressed, hitching herself in to her armor. There were likely some fresh hunts posted on the boards, and she wanted to be first to pluck those bills.

[111]

Evangeline reads the article, nodding thoughtfully. "Such wonderful journalism." She takes a sip of her coffee, sighing happily.

 

"And I didn't even have to pay for this one."

[Unnamed Mercenary]

Franz sat at one of the tables in the Still Shore, warm mug of tea in one hand, the paper in his other. In front of him lay a small plate with a simple breakfast, merely some toast and a scrambled dodo egg. He'd taken to exercising on the Mist beach as a new morning routine.

 

As he read the paper, he nearly laughed at it. "Seems like Spahro has been keeping herself busy once again."

 

He wondered for a while what kind of trouble she'd found herself in, but he wasn't overly interested in what the Sultansworn were up to. It was his problem, and truthfully, the was a small interest in seeing how the city would respond to the outrageous writings. They were certainly interesting enough to read, regardless of if the claims were true or not.

 

Perhaps he'd spend a small portion of the day in Ul'dah. While it wasn't hated anymore, he had found it still difficult to stay for long. After changing into appropriate clothes for the desert, he departed for the nearest aetherite to travel.