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An eyebrow quirk up at Warren's statement.  "If ah didn't know better, ah'll almost say ya were my teacher, Alex."  And being a Wander meant that she would not see him again unless their paths cross.  She push the first mug away and start on the second.  "He told me before he left that Oschon's path could be lonely at times...but only if I let it."

 

Kestlona mental shook herself from her thoughts.  "Ah, it's getting to deep for me."  No worrying about Alex.  He was a grown hyur and been on the path far long then she has.  "Bloodsands?" she ask.  "It was mention by a couple of the older members of the guild... and some not so glorious stories as well."  It suited her fine that the guildmaster wasn't like the last one.  "I'm on the path to help not to break bones to line someone's pockets."  She grin, "The mining is two-fold."  She pull out a small notepad, "A little gil to get me by and a chance to continue my own studies."

 

The door slam open, causing her head to jerk in that direction, and causing her to drop the notepad on the table.  Scribble on the pad was what look to be sound effect and also what might have been a rough translation of the sound.  Kestlona's hand had move to her own puglist weapon.  She realize a few seconds later that there wasn't going to be trouble at the moment.  She turn her attention back to Warren and realize that the notepad was showing her latest attempt to try and translate the Amalj'aa language.  She could only hope that the highlander wouldn't realize what it truely was.  'This is dangerous, Lass,' Alex words of warning came back to her, 'because they could say we're tainted and that will get us killed faster than a blade through the heart.'

 

Taking her hands off the weapon, Kestlona began to reach for her notepad, "So," she say, "should I be ready for a fight?"  Nodding her head to Berrod and Coatlegue, trailing them with her eyes toward the bar.  "Or sit back and watch the show?"  Maybe that would distract from any questions about the notepad.

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Meanwhile Solis and Sakura are sitting down nearby on the bar, catching sight of the others.

 

Sakura: "Wonder what's going on there."

Solis: "I just hope it doesn't lead to violence. I wonder where's the waitress."

 

Solis brings out a "snack" from his bag. The "snack" being an Ul'dahn meal.

 

Solis: "I'll just eat this while I wait."

 

Solis and Sakura then eat while watching nearby events unfold.

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Oscare's up to his own scheming along the outside of the tavern as well. Today's special was green tea -- a nice herbal aroma floated around his cup was enough evidence to prove that. He raises his map up to the sky, pointing at completely random spots with a pencil. 

 

"That looks like a good test site," One comment there. "Oh, but someone's house is there... I wouldn't want to blow that up," followed by another rebuttal there. "I wonder if Camy has any demolition safety tomes... she has to. She has everything." With a complete out-of-the-blue unrelated note there! "Perhaps I can scour around the junk yard to..."

 

A passing couple just look at the engineer with a bizarre expression. Weirdo.

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Coatleque led Berrod back around the perimeter of the room to the bar area. She gestured to Momodi for two glasses of something as they neared, then stopped along side the armored figure she had left sitting there. Turning to Berrod first she pointed to the other.

 

"This is one I had mentioned. It seems he had the most wonderful luncheon this afternoon and could not wait to tell us about it."

 

She then turned back to the man at the bar. "Apologies, Sir, but I rushed off before asking your name. I am Lady Coatleque Crofte of her resplendence's royal guard." With that she offered a slight bow. Mistress Momodi in the mean time had placed two glasses of a dark reddish-purple liquid down for her and Berrod.

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Warren eyed the highlander woman and man as they crossed paths. Internally, he was wishing he was near enough to hear the no-doubt stammering and forcibly polite conversation, but he knew them well enough to know there'd be no trouble.

 

"No, they'll be okay. Not liable to pick a fight in here, I'd wager." His attention did turn briefly to the notepad, but he didn't recognize much of the script. She seemed suddenly aware of its place, though, but Warren didn't make a big deal about it.

 

"You'll find all sorts of students in Ul'dah, not all of them academic. If you've got the coin or the connections, there's a lot worth knowing here." He regarded her with a curious eye, almost assessing. "Reading's rare among most who live here, though that's probably a result of the working class and the refugees. Just be mindful of were you wave your notepad around; Outsiders don't come to the Jewel without a bit of traveling cash, and there's plenty of people who'd rather use that to eat their next meal."

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The bard continued observing the bar area for a few more moments, torn within between rapt interest at the potential for interesting gossip, scuttlebutt or mayhem, and undeniable daydreams of riding within a personal airship.

 

He then spared a glance at his table companion again, that wry grin working its way back to his face.

 

"I'm not sure what's more interesting - the thought of you surrounded by dozens of spare parts and covered with machine oil, or this little collection of personages milling about in front of Momodi over there. However, since the second topic is less likely to have you clubbing me with a wrench, even deservedly so, I'll go with that. And to answer your question, it usually is very much this interesting in here."

 

He clucked his tongue. "I'm surprised you're not in here more often to see it."

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Meanwhile Solis and Sakura were finishing their small meal.

 

Solis: "That'll have to do for now."

 

Solis then stretches backwards until he comedically falls off the chair, stumbling onto the floor and making noise. Sakura nonchalantly calls for Momodi to order their main lunch while Solis rubs his head.

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Cliodhna raised an eyebrow with a bemused expression. "It's not as fun to watch as you'd think, aside from that; you'd have a hard time getting clearance to the hanger." Shakes her head with a soft laugh.

 

Chin still resting in her hand, she idly chewed on her pinky nail as she strained to hear what was being said over at the bar. "Well...." Cliodhna started, turning her attention more fully on Nathan. "I've got a lot of work to do recently. What with the sudden....public exposure of our unit and the results from that; I know have four, no three and a half airships that need to be refitted from cargo to fully armed in the event they're needed in combat."

 

"That," She chuckled. "Tends to eat up a bit of my time, and of course when my Captain has time to spare, as rarely as that is," She added with a hint of disdain. "I'd rather not waste the time."

 

Casting another glance behind her at the curious crowd over her shoulder, she paused. "However...When I have free time and he's otherwise detained...I might be showing up here a bit more frequently..."

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Kestlona got the hint from Warren and put the notes away.  "That's good to know," she said, both in thanks for the advice and also knowing that their wasn't going to be any kind of trouble.  "Still, most of my learning is self taught or pounded into my head by my teacher."  She snicker, thinking back to some of the off color choice of words and what she took to be Alex's home language.  "Though I'm hoping to figure out what he been calling me when I messed up."

 

She lean back, taking a slip of the beer, throwing her thoughts back.  "What was it he use to say..."  A grin pulling at her lips, she spoke in and older version of Ala Mhigan though she didn't understand what she might have been saying.  "'A baby is faster then you' and 'I'm proud of you, my dutiful student.'"  She sat the now empty mug back on the table.  "Don't know why he refuse to tell me what he was saying..."  She blink as a glowing carbuncle came up to their table.  "Where did you come from?" she asked it, the magic familiar looking at her, and then cooning at greeting at Warren before wandering over to another table.

 

****

John Waterstrike place a kiss on the side of his mom's cheek.  "We'll be find, Mom," he said, the two of them waiting for the lift door to open.  "I'm sure Momodi will be will to feed us."

 

Margret shook her head.  "Yes, let her fatten you both up.  Honestly, both you and your father can cook.  Why can't you just fix yourself something?"  She than caught his ear, "And it's not Momodi.  It's Madam Momodi or Lady Momodi.  You are to be respectful as the head of clan."

 

John flatten the barely pinch ear, rubbing his hand against it.  "Sorry," he said before giving a small smile.  "As for cooking it's because it's too much work pulling out and preparing the ingredients, then cooking said ingredients.  It way easier just to get something from one of the food stalls or buy a meal from Madam Momodi."

 

"You two are hopeless."  She look down at the Carbuncle.  "Please make sure he stays out of trouble, Kit."  Then she gave John her mother Glare.  "And you.  When I'm back in a fortnight, you have better made proper apologizes to Lady Eoghan, do you understand."

 

John's ears and tail drop.  "I will do so once I see her, Mom."  He was thankful that his mother didn't know that he had spoke out of line in front of her 'husband' or he would also be making apologizes to him as well.

 

Once John was sure that his mother was on her way to the airship, he made a beeline for the Quicksand.  "Lady Momodi," he said, "when you have the time, can you get me two containers of water?"

 

While John waits for the water, Kit begins to wander over to the table where the "Warren" scent was.   She only stop for a moment to watch Solis rubbing his head, before moving on to coon a greeting to "Warren".  She then pick up "Cliodhna" scent, wandering over to and then under the table, her head pocking out the other side, 'sensing' for "John."

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Berrod followed in Crofte's wake as politely as he could manage, though he managed a heavy scowl at Warren. It was filled with mock resentment, but bore no true ill will. It didn't last long, and he turned once more to look at the back of the Sultansworn's head -- and no lower. 

 

Unfortunately, his scowl returned at the sight of the heavily armored man. It was not meant in any overtly bad way, but it was not polite in the least. Berrod's disinterest in the fellow's luncheon could not be made more plain. Thankfully, distraction came in the form of the glasses.

 

He gave a careful inspection of his own and murmured a note of thanks. "You're too kind, Lady Crofte. I...have been abstaining from the drink for some time, but I don't think I'm such a cad to turn down one from someone I see only very briefly and infrequently." 

 

Despite his disinterest in the armored man's lunch, the Highlander did seem to hold curiousity regarding his name. Among the many familiar forms that littered the Quicksand, this one remained alien.

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Solis gets back up to his chair rubbing his head as his and Sakura's food arrive.

 

Solis: "Finally! I'm starving!" He proceeds to chow down on his meal, rather making a lot of noise, kinda grossing out Sakura who is taking her time with her meal. When Solis finishes soon after, he gives a hearty belch that is heard throughout the Quicksand. Sakura covers her mouth and smacks Solis silly.

 

Sakura: "Gross!!!"

Solis: "Sorry gotta let something out. Better by my mouth than my rear!"

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The Judge's head turned only slightly to regard Coatleque's return with her new-found Hyur companion, though such an action was highlighted by the sort groaning of steel on steel. His hidden gaze took in the both of them: the well-decorated and refined Sultansworn flanked by the rough-and-tumble brawler. While their shared heritage was obvious enough in their stature and crimson tresses, the two carried themselves so differently. One moved with purpose and resolve, while the other seemed content enough to distract himself with drink and possible thoughts on how to escape the situation. The latter seemed not at all interested in the light conversation Jredthys sought.

 

"INCORRECT. I PASSED JUDGEMENT ON THE MEAL PRESENTED TO ME," he corrected matter-of-factually, his hands still neatly folded atop the wooden countertop. It was important that such distinctions be made - misinformation led to misguided choices which led to mistakes which led to misery. Such was the way of things, and Jredthys had little wont for such an easily avoidable descent over something as paltry as one's lunch. "IT WAS PREPARED TO REQUESTED STANDARDS, MINUS A SINGULAR DEMERIT, AND THUS STILL WITHIN ACCEPTABLE PARAMETERS FOR RECOMMENDATION."

 

It could not be said that he was not a fair Judge. In fact, his reputation was built upon his impartiality in all matters set before him. So, while the sandwich had not been cut into exact halves as he had requested, it was well enough within an understood allowance for error and had been simple enough to correct. Thus, given the other evidence of exceptional culinary skill presented in the rest of the sandwich's construction and the preparation of his multiple martinis, it would have been improper to impugn the establishment due to a slight deviance in diagonal division. Though, he would not be lax in mentioning it should such clarification be required.

 

"I AM JUDGE JREDTHYS," he continued, matching Coatleque's introduction with his own. "ARBITER OF ANY AND ALL THINGS PLACED UNDER MY PURVIEW." He turned more fully to the two Highlanders, for it would be improper to not give them his full attention. It would also be improper not to properly greet the 'Sworn's compatriot. "GREETINGS."

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She smiled at Berrod. "T'is certainly not my fault that our meetings are so infrequent. Everyone in Ul'dah knows where to find me when they need to, it seems."

 

Coatleque's ears twitched at the commotion behind her, but she paid it little mind - this being the Quicksand after all. She instead quirked an eyebrow at the 'Judge' as she picked up her own drink from the counter.

 

"Passed judgement on the meal? Curious that such a thing would require such scrutiny. I was not aware that a sandwich was capable of infraction. Would not your judgement be more appropriately cast at the one who crafted the meal?"

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"YES," Judge affirmed in his normal verbose manner. "IT SERVED AS EVIDENCE ON WHICH THE SKILL OF THE ESTABLISHMENT'S STAFF WAS JUDGED. AS WAS THE MARTINI." He paused for a bit, apparently thinking on something. "CORRECTION: MARTINIS, PLURAL, FOR THERE WERE TWO."

 

He turned almost wistfully to observe the empty martini glass. It was likely only due to the volume of customers at the Quicksand this sun that had kept both it and the plate from being collected. Or, perhaps, a quiet hope that Jredthys would want his drink refreshed. That did not excuse the plate from being there, however - it was rather difficult to refresh a sandwich. Replacing it would be a more proper course of action, but that necessitated its own plate - reusing a dish like that was improper for an eating establishment such as this.

 

Technically, it was not uncommon to also replace a depleted glass with a fresh one full of more of the customer's drink of choice either. However, there was more leeway on what was proper in such a situation. Both were valid methods to provide the diner with more beverage, and the Judge could not slight the Quicksand for taking either choice. As long as all implements were properly cleaned before re-use afterward. Judging that, however, was currently outside his purview.

 

"I ALREADY MENTIONED MY VERDICT ON THE SANDWICH," he continued, turning back to both Highlanders. "THE MARTINIS WERE ALSO PREPARED IN A PROPER TWO-TO-ONE RATIO. ALSO RECOMMENDED."

 

The Judge ended his overall verdict with a simple nod, as if all matters were settled with it. Well, of course, beyond payment for the services thus rendered. He would, however, tie up that particular loose end once the proprietor circled around towards his spot along the bar.

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There was a certain note of incredulity in the way Berrod's lower eyelids lifted into a squint. The Highlander seemed to be deliberating if the armored fellow was being genuine or if he was speaking in jest. The armor it self did no service to his attempted reading, and so his assessment was fruitless.

 

To cut his squinty stare short, he decided to take a sip from his drink which to his surprise was not at all alcoholic. "Rolanberry juice," came the rumbled murmur. A less intelligible mumble followed, something along the lines of, "...would enjoy this very much."

 

"I suppose I do see you about, Lady Crofte," the highlander admitted, "Though I'm never the one to start idle conversation with someone in armored uniform. I'm inclined to think that this is the most we've actually spoken to each other in -- well, moons."

 

Conversation without the purpose of business was never Berrod's strong suit and he knew this well -- though for the sake of dispelling the awkwardness that had begun radiating from him in waves, he practically pounced on the self-proclaimed Judge's introduction. "I am Berrod Armstrong," He reciprocated, "Nothing special to my name, as yet."

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http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=10645&pid=160407#pid160407))

 

The doors to the Quicksand crash open, revealing a haggard Evangeline. She is breathing heavily, and her clothes are dusty with various pieces of street debris.

 

"Greeting Citizens! The Revolution is at hand!"

 

"It is time to rise up and strike down your oppressors! To Seize the city for yourselves..."

 

She tosses a handful of fliers into the crowd.

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------

REPUBLIC OF UL'DAH REVOLUTIONARY COUNCIL MEETING

 

IN THE QUICKSAND

 

BRING PITCHFORKS

 

REFRESHMENTS WILL BE SERVED.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

She looks over her shoulder, "Or at least run from the several dozen Brass Blades who chased me here."

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Perhaps a dozen clever quips, thoughts, bits of innuendo, bon mots, and other sorts of verbal play spun in the bard's head like a wheel, and he sifted through them to find the right comment to keep up the verbal wordplay he enjoyed so much with the blonde engineer, keeping just enough going to possibly raise eyebrows in the room while still retaining the pact-of-banter that the two of them had shared more than once.

 

The wheel turned through the crisp but non-threatening dialogue at the bar, surviving a number of stray thoughts about what mayhem might ensue between the curious Sultansworn, the heavy-voiced armored food critic and the mass-of-muscle he knew only from a few brief exchanges with Berrod's associates.

 

Of course, none saw anything but the grinning lips start to part...

 

...and their sudden morphing into a toothy grimace as the disheveled Elezen burst in the door, shouting into the room. He hadn't heard that voice in moons, since... the last time he'd seen her pull a stunt in the street.

 

He scratched his bearded cheek, and spoke in low tones to Cliodhna.

 

"I'm going to guess we won't have the barmaid come over here anytime soon."

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Evangeline slams the door shut behind her, kicks a spike into the door with surprising finesse, and begins creating some sort of device with wire and what looks like a bomb.

 

"Do not worry Comrades! This will slow them down."

 

She pulls a pin and vaults over the railing, heading for the opposite exit.

 

"Freedom and Justice will prevail!" She shouts, weaving her way through the tables.

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Coatleque started as the doors behind her burst open with a loud crash, so much that her cup sloshed forward and spilled right onto Berrod. The dark red juice seeping into his clothes almost immediately. She did not notice, of course, as she turned about at the same time to see what this new commotion was. Spying Evangeline running through the Quicksand she squeezed her eyes closed and sighed. "By the Twelve, what is this now?"

 

Even if she had seen what device the woman was fiddling with, her speed and the distance between them would prevent the Sultansworn from taking any action.

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Shaking her head, Cliodhna had grabbed both empty mugs. "The waitress you're so intent on seeing must be busy in the kitchen, I can easily enough walk over to the...bar...." She trailed off, slipping from her chair into a standing position. Originally she had ignored the odd woman that had been shouting about some sort of liberation but seeing her mess with the door caused Cliodhna's mouth to hang open with disbelief.

 

Was that a bomb?

 

Wasting no time; she dropped the mugs and using both hands with a rare display of her strength; wrenched the heavy table onto it's side, jarring her table companions propped feet as she quickly ducked behind the makeshift shield. Her right arm shot out and grabbed Nathan by the forearm, giving a hard yank to pull him from his seat and behind the table as well before bracing for the expected impact.

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"What sort of bloody freeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

 

The word turned into a surprised shout as the the table fell to its side, and with a quickness, the full strength of a toned Highlander mechanic was (forgive the pun) wrenching him from his already unbalanced perch on the seat to plop to the floor behind the upended table.

 

"Twelve, have we all gone daft..." The phrase, again, trailed off, as he realized that he still held his lute in his hand, where it had fallen hard upon the floor. He cursed under his breath, and dug his heels into the hardwood, pushing himself behind the table and scrambling to try to get the instrument into its case.

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The bomb attached to the door, despite it's impressive appearance, was only a simple smoke grenade, and would discharge a thick white smoke if the door was forced or the trap was disturbed.

 

Evangeline attempts to make her away across the quicksand and towards the far door, "Sorry for disturbing your meals, but certain sacrifices must be made for the revolution!"

 

She pats Clio's shoulder as she dashes by, "Good idea with the table, you'll need barricades to fight them off."

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In a moment of impeccably poor timing, the far doors of the quicksand swing open to embrace the rebel's haphazard escape. The Thanalan sunlight blazes through for a tantilizing moment, only to be shadowed as a towering grey Roegadyn figure steps through the doorway.

 

At first glance, she might appear to be painted with dust. Dust coated gladiator's armour, a dusty half helm tucked under one arm, streaks of dust smeared across her grey face, and layers of reddish desert dust obscuring the true colour of her hair combine to form the impression of someone that has spent a long day on the open road.

 

Halting squarely in the open doorway, the sea wolf peers across the quicksand through a pair of surprisingly dust free spectacles. The shocked faces, overturned table, and elezen figure sprinting towards her seem to root the stranger to the spot, effectively blocking Eva's route.

 

"Wha' in twelve's name...." She mumbles, squinting hard at the sprinting figure. Then Evangeline pauses to speak with Clio, and her voice sends a flash of recognition over the sea wolf's face. "Bloody balls," She blurts out, still firmly blocking the doorway "It's you again!"

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Evangeline pauses as the large, and rather intimidating Roegadyn blocks her path. She doesn't recognize her face, but she does recognize that mail!

 

"Oppressors!" She yells, "You'll never take me alive!"

 

The red dust makes it suspiciously similar to that of her Arch Nemesis, the Brass Blades. Hurriedly she reaches into her satchel, trying to grab a grenade, only to find it empty.

 

"Of all the..." Evangeline grumbles, until her hand finally finds something hard and rectangular, she flings it without looking, and continues to run, hoping to slide past the 'Blade' while she is distracted. "Long live the Republic!"

 

If she does not dodge, Klinzahr would find a thick leather bound tome impacting her face.

 

A SHORT TREATISE ON THE SUBJECT OF WEALTH AND THE PUBLIC GOVERNANCE

 

VOLUME IV

 

It is a suitable dry and academic text, which has been frantically underlined and notated in a cramped hurried scrawl. The inside cover contains a "If lost, please return to:" section, with Evangeline's Name, Address and a reward of 5 gil.

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