#[ ✿ galynekh ✿ ]

[gansukhimaa-archive]

The Fly Trap | Mateus

Plot 29, 4th Ward, The Lavender Beds

[kuzhukdotharl]

Strength

~Many years ago...~

The boy stood there in front of The Burned House. The black figure stood like an obelisk of shadow, the flickering flames illuminating his stern and grizzled features as he looked at the entrance to the tent. The cool night time winds of the Azim Steppe whispered sweet nothings into his ear as he waited patiently to be summoned before the High Council, he would be the last to undergo the Rite of Naming and become a Man in the eyes of the tribe.

For sixteen summers, he had toiled and grown both in skill and power, much to the chagrin of his tribemates. He had waited for this moment, for the time when he would finally receive his true name and ride with the warband against the enemies of the Dotharl. He had dreamed about this night since he was a youngling, running through the green fields with Khorgany. All those memories and past summers felt like a distant age though as he now waited in anticipation, the tales of his father howling in his mind. Tonight, he took his first real steps to finding the Dusk Mother.

“Enter, O youth of the plains. Stand before your tribe” an old yet firm voice called from within the tent. His heart racing, Kuzhuk stepped forwards and entered The Burned House.

A barrage of incense and smoke met the boy as he came into the sacred meeting place of tribe members past and present. The dark tent was lit only by the large bonfire that raged in its center, a pillar of smoke rising directly upwards and exiting through a hole in the roof. The heat of the roaring flame could not compare though to the burning gazes that Kuzhuk felt pierce into his very soul as he stepped up to the flames to be judged. The various heads of the tribe were present, all adorned in the traditional garments of their station, each wearing the mask of their next life. Sitting in the back, the boy swore he could see the figure of his father, who wore the mask of the red hawk. Kuzhuk dared not look to his teacher and father though, to do so would be weakness, and in this time of judgment, that was something that he could not afford to be shown.

Opposite form he, on the other side of the bonfire, stood a singular figure who wore a mask engraved with the markings of an owl. Her statuesq state and steady gaze was unnerving. This was Nüürsnii Nüd, Coal Eyes, the Elder Seer of his kin. The Xaela woman held her bone staff tightly, leaning on it to alleviate her lame leg, the flames casting a ballet of dancing shadows across her contours. “Who stands before us? We who bring salvation to the meek” Coal Eyes said, her voice filling the silent chamber, the crackle of the bonfire her only competition for dominance.

“It is I, Kuzhuk, son of Khüchirkheg, child of the green sea, first of my name borne unto the Dotharl” the boy said loudly, returning the dominant voice with one of his own as he stood tall. His 7’8 form cut a truly intimidating figure, and apparently, he was still growing - though this did not seem to faze Coal Eyes in the least. Instead, the woman continued the Rite as was common. “O youth of the green sea, you stand before the spirits of our brood who have seen you grow. The time has come for them to reveal to you your true soul, one free of this mortal coil. Will you stand and be judged?” the woman asked, earning a swift, “I shall”. With a small grin that caused a small flurry of surprise, Coal Eyes gave a nod, “Then let the spirits guide us towards the immortal truth”

The seer hissed as she threw what looked like dust of some sort into the bonfire, causing it to bellow with new life and begin to slowly change colors. Blue, green, black, and more filled the spacious tent as all eyes seemed to focus in on the flame, waiting for what revelation the seer would provide for them. “I see… Rage, power, unlimited potential, the trappings of the most revered of our kin” Coal Eyes said as she stared into the flame, seeing what the spirits decreed and saw within the boy. These words filled him with a sense of pride, a feeling of heat that the fire could ill hope to match. “In you lies more than just a warrior, I see both an unstoppable force and an immovable object melding into one. The salt sea crashing against the mighty crags of the coast, neither yielding in their immortal conflict” Coal Eyes decreed. The years of immeasurable training and warring felt like distant memories as the boy let a confident yet small smile creep up onto his face.

“-and yet, for all the light of these flames, I see a terrible darkness clinging to you, vapors of unbelief that distance you from communing with our kin and the spirits” Coal Eyes said, her voice firm and steadfast as she peered into the flame of many colors. The smile on Kuzhuk’s face disappeared, a feeling of dread coming forth as his mind raced with a million questions. What did the seer mean by darkness? How could she see unbelief in him when he was a zealot amongst their kin? How was he blind to his kin and their eternal spirits? A cold sweat broke out from the man’s brow as he tried to reconcile these accusations in his mind, a ripple of murmuring flowed across the room. He was here to be judged, his tribe his jurors, he could not show weakness here.

In matters of the spirit, the Seer had made her divination, now, it was to the various heads of the clan to whom matters of secular insight came from. Kuzhuk could only watch as his father, Shonkor Orgil, Falcon’s Peak, rose and approached the bonfire. It was he who now would reconcile for the seer his observations, and it was he who Kuzhuk hoped would alleviate this strange turn of events. Yet, as the colorful flames illuminated the old warrior’s grizzled and scarred body, his red mask seemed more predatory and hostile as it gazed at the boy, disapproving almost of the prey who couldn’t manage to even scamper away back to the shadows. “Here me now, my brothers and sisters, for I, Falcon’s Peak, will bridge the dissonance between spirit and son, and attempt to explain the discordance that fills this troubled youth’s soul” the intimidating man said, his voice booming around the tent, his silver eyes looking into an identical pair with utter contempt.

For once in a very long time, Kuzhuk felt a chilled hand of fear grip at his very soul. His heart raced as his felt his father look into his eyes with such utter disgust, it was enough to make the normally dominant boy look away and into the flame. He still struggled to understand what was going on. In a blur though, his father had crossed the distance between them and grabbed onto his arm like a vise, holding it out to the flame to see and illuminate his open palm. It was only in this movement that the boy realized what it was his father now made evident to the clan. “Behold! The mark of a blood oath, a scarred and permanent pact between two spirits that lasts far beyond the confines of this meager life!” Faclon’s Peak shouted, an uproar of disapproval erupted within the tent. Blood oaths weren’t only taboo, they were binding in the eyes of the Dusk Mother, never something to take lightly.

“Do you deny it?” Falcon’s Peak asked the boy, his silver eyes full of anger. “No, I do not” Kuzhuk stated through grit teeth. As a child who craved power, he now felt completely powerless. “It was a childish action, one made long ago and with the conscious and cluelessness that only a child could posess” the boy stated, this earned a sharp scoff from his father who publicly reprimanded him, “The Dusk Mother cares not for age. Life is eternal, our chapters but one of many in a never-ending book of reincarnation. You have sealed your existence towards your partner until the ends of time!” the man yelled. Kuzhuk shook in his sandals as he felt the raw and unadulterated wrath of Falcon’s Peak be unleashed upon him in a torrent of hate. “What’s worse is that this girl is not one of our own! A tribe-less curr who is little more than a beast clothed in rags!” this last part particularly enraged those in attendance. Such breaking of tradition was an outrage, a clamour of anger now erupted as the elders of the Dotharl stood to their feet and began shouting. Some called for the boy to be killed, others demanded he complete a rite to absolve his black deed, and even others simply called for him to be tortured as an example. However, it was finally Coal Eyes who restored order.

“SILENCE!” she yelled, the colorful flames bellowing out in a surge that alarmed the elders into submission. The seer stood tall and in control as she looked at the father and son who were now locked in silent conflict. The young man felt his blood run cold, his silver gaze meeting the only matching pair that this world knew. As calm was restored within the yurt, Coal Eyes looked through the wisps of the hearth to Kuzhuk. ”I am udgan, and I shall speak the will of those undying who are present in spirit instead of body” she hissed, verbally castrating the men as they were cowed back to their seats. Shoncor Orgil returned to his own post as well, watching, as always through his thinly layered mask of contempt.

Coal eyes spoke with her usual old and coarse voice, “Oh youth of the grass. You have lost your path. Your body is strong, but your heart remains weak and docile. This does not need to be, poor child, we, your tribe, will make you whole again” she promised, hobbling around the fire slowly, her shadow dancing brilliantly against the sides of the yurt. Kuzhuk forced his gaze to remain looking forwards, even as the creeping voice of the udgan drifted closer and closer to his horn. “Close your eyes, my child. Speak now what strength means to you” she commanded, to which he complied. “It is unstoppable power: to crush our enemies, and to hear the lamentation of the women. We undying revel in the glory of war, it is the natural order” he stated, earning a few nods of approval from some of the younger members of the council who had earned their names. This reply seemed to earn a small chuckle from the wise woman, “So they say” she clicked with a prompt swish of her tail.

“You would say that your undying fire is one purely physical, you neglect one half of your essence” she instructed, moving around him slowly as it inspecting him for the smallest chink in his skin which she could pry open and expose his fragility to all. “Strength is not a goal to strive for, it is a dogma, a scripture that your heart must follow in its entirety. We kill, we raid, we do these not because we like to, but because we must. The weak must be given mercy, it would be a crime against all nature to allow them to live a miserable life, what we do to them, we do out of kindness. To cull the inferior tribes, to wipe them away with the palm of our hands, to burn all impurities- such things leave only the strong. They are worthless, they should not be allowed to live such a pathetic life, to live and to die as sheep.” Coal Eyes explained, revolving around Kuzhuk as he stood there firmly, only her words and the warmth of the fire seemingly reaching his fermenting mind.

“To give mercy is to leave the weak alive only to die and suffer a meaningless existence. They bring no glory, no purpose. What we do, as the strong, as the undying, is to prove to Nhamma and to the spirits that we are not sheep. We prove to them with our hearts and our bodies that we are eternal, within us is a fire that will consume all, such is our duty, our purpose- our strength” she finished, at last coming to a halt behind the large ebony form of Kuzhuk. He had remained unnervingly still, like an obelisk caught between the flames of the familiar and the whispers of something far deeper that he only now tried to confront. The summers of adventures with Khorgany, with his childhood friend, they all felt like distant vapors slipping with his mind, like lies, like wasted time. It was only now, standing here in this yurt, facing the immortal flame before him, that he slowly felt a new sensation course through his very being: revelation.

“I see it. It hides in my heart, holding me back from what you speak” he replied slowly. He did not need to see the udgan’s face to feel the smile that was silently etched into his flesh. “You need only speak that malformation that corrupts you. Together, as a tribe, you shall be made pure by the flame, and only then, will you become a man” Coal eyes promised with a small grin as she looked to the bonfire in the center of the yurt. The words came slowly to his lips, like an eternity passing for each syllable as he spoke them, “Khorgany Novsh” he grunted. Those within the yurt repeated his proclamation in a chant, “Khorgany Novsh”. He could feel the heat of the flame warm him suddenly, more so than before, like he was only feeling it now for the first time since entering the yurt.

“KhorganyNovsh” he repeated, his voice grunting and speaking the name all at once, as if doing so would exercise her corrupting memories from his mind once and for all. Again, the tribe repeated, blurring the words even more, “Khoganovsh” they said. Kuzhuk could feel his heart beating more rapidly as the heat of the fire increased, seemingly ignoring all barriers of flesh and touch to instead scorch his heart. He could feel them, the licks of flame burning him from the inside out. Coal Eyes nodded in approval as she saw the small twitches and spasm’s on the boy’s face. “Khorgovsh” he rushed out, his fists tightening until his knuckles turned white from rage. “Khorvosh” the tribe repeated in unison. This cycle continued, his voice, his memories of her name and of their days devolving into an incoherent mess. It was like the flame was melting a part of him away, and with each utterance of her name, the heat reduced his mind into less of what it once was, breaking it down. “Khorsh”, turned into “’Osh”, which in turn became only unspeakable babble until, at last…

All was lost, and silence then reigned.

Coal Eyes presided once again from her perch on the other side of the fire, “Youth of the grass, the spirits see you now, they recognize you amongst the eternals. Your name amongst us, and all others shall be your true name: Burged Altan, The Eagle of the Crimson Dawn!” the udgan proclaimed. The yurt hollered and yelled in approval, the boy had proven himself, he was one of them, he was a man. Kuzhuk heard her judgement and could only reply with a small nod, his gaze locked onto the smoldering embers of the hearth.

At last, he had found purpose. He had found peace.

[unenchdol-blog]

What Drives You..?

“< What drives me... Mm..I’d like to think its the same thing that drives everyone else. A need to survive. No..Maybe that’s not quite right.. I guess what drives me is the want to feel alive. Not just to breathe, or see the sun the next morning. Its the touch of those near me. The small fanged smile of those of my blood. The warmth I feel when I wake and know that my life as it is, is no dream. That I need not fear what I once was. Where I once came from..>”.

“< What drives me...?.. Love..>”. (( Feel free to repost with your own characters head thoughts! What Drives them to be who they are? What they are?))

[far-east-orient]

Family

"Grandfather, tell me a story!"

The old Xaela chuckles and picks his granddaughter lovingly. Placing her on his lap

<"What do you want to listen today, Altansarnai? how about the story of how Ochigin the fire prince, and the first fire?">

The little girl, barely four or five years old shakes her head

<"Oh, then what do you want to hear then?">

She jumps down from her grandfather's lap and runs to take something from a small box on the corner of the yurt.

The little girl took off several leatherbound books off until she found a small worn journal.

She runs and hops towards her grandfather's lap, giving him a single picture. Yellowed by age.

<"Tell me about the story of the Khatagtai and the heroes of our tribe, grandfather">

The old man paused for a moment, he closes his eyes. That voices rings over his horn, clear as the same night it was said

<"....but if you dare to harm even a single hair of my kin, I will tie you up and call for the Buduga myself">

Outside on the grassy steppe, children are running around

<"I am Khatagtai Khantyer the Undying, my ax shall bring you down"> said a little girl wearing blue, pointing to a boy <"You follow my lead">

Another boy yelled in protest <"It's unfair why can't we be Khatagtai too!"> the little girl snorts and puff out her chest <"Because you are a boy!">

<"You can be uhm...Ganzorig Akhmad!"> the boy looks at the girl and nods eagerly <"I will be Ganzorig Akhmad, the lightning reincarnate!"> he blushes a bit when he sees the girl. Even with his warrior-pretend-style.

<"And I will be Surgagch Ahjier! all warring brothers are at my behest!"> <"I am Ajil Gansukh, the provider of sustenance and the mind of the earth!"> <"And I am Tarianlach Maeko"> <"I-i, umm...Odoki !">  

<”...”> a boy taps on his chest twice and nods. Not making any voices

A Raen boy walks over and puff his chest <"I am Shimazu, who dares face my blade"> the other shakes their head <"You're not pink enough to be Shimazu!">

The old man in the Yurt smiles, the crease on the side of his eyes signify his age. Yet his eyes still reflect things clearly. He takes out the picture

<"Very well then, let grandpa Algun tells you of a story...long before your time. Of our tribe Nuur Khuudas and the heroes that protected them">

<"Once upon a time...in the land of Nhaama...">

[fistofthesun]

galynekh replied to your post: Friends: attending the Steppe-rp event today. Me:...

Naked chest is best chest. Or the Hempen Shirt (which is a leather strap) and Woad Breeches (from Sohm Al with the Au ra male sandals. ❤ Quick, Delicious, and Efficient! Hopefully you can make it!

U SURE ITS A GOOD IDEA TO COME WITH BARE CHEST.....

[amarlily]

@galynekh

↽──── It had been a long night. What should have been a quick expedition through a simple dungeon to collect some money turned into an exhausting experience with, as she would put it, stress healing. The White Mage had spent so much time healing her other party members, she thought she would pass out from exhaustion. “ Next time a random adventurer comes up to me saying they have a group and just need a healer to join them, the riches will be worth it, i’m giving it a hard pass...” She grumbled softly. Still, the gill she got out of it would be nice. Maybe she’d be able to get something nice for their house. 

              The mage paused in her steps, noticing the Au Ra standing in the road. Ferrah looked around, wanting to be certain she wasn’t interrupting anything before stepping up. Despite her own exhaustion, she couldn’t in good conscience leave the person without knowing if they needed help. “ Are you looking for something? ” 

[ashaduan]

Familiarity

She had been working odd jobs again, since the last excursion with COMET had resolved with the arrest of a necromancer.  It had been a nice change of pace, working with the Blue Badgers to fill orders of provisions for Adder units.  The pay was reasonable and everyone always seemed so pleased by her efforts, it was hard not to feel rewarded.

She ported a crate of rivets across the path from the Aetheryte toward the Adder’s Nest, she avoided the usual traffic at the small footbridge and ducked under the cover of the structure’s canopy.  Making her way across the wood floor to the counter, she turned over her contribution to the day’s requirements, accepted her payment and turned to leave. 

At the edge of her vision, a tiny flicker of blue caught her eye.

The butterfly caught her eye first.  Luminous, serenely fluttering about the woman.  It lacked the urgency that the creatures usually displayed in the wild, their wings always seeming frantic.  It was calm.

The woman’s hair caught her eye next, and then a scent, familiar and peculiar at the same time.  Her mind spun away from the here and now before she could react.

She ran in pounding haste, blade out to her side for balance.  The edge practically sang as she gathered speed toward her foe.  The towering man charged at her with equal intensity, eyes bright and fearless.  His massive axe already tracing the broad arc of his first swing, when they met she lowered and slid under his attack, but was forced away when he completed the full circle of his swing, unable to take advantage of the gap she had expected.

“You are swift.” He said simply, a gruff voice, and a language she heard only in her heart, “But you are not strong.”

She allowed her breathing to slow and she shifted slowly, altering her stance.  He would expect her to evade again.  He tilted his head, curved horns and vibrant limbal rings giving him a fierce appearance as he casually shifted the axe.

“Your footwork reveals you,” for all the fury in his battle roar, he was calm, too.  And then he came again, overhead strike like the fall of night, vast and inescapable.

She released herself, feeling the Burden settled upon her, and brought an empty hand up from her own blade to stop his axe mid-swing.  The crack of the impact was echoed by the shattering of the axe’s shaft and then the crunch of the massive axe head bouncing across the grassy hillside behind her.

She tried not to show her wince.  He was much stronger than she had anticipated, and her hand was probably broken, even with the infusion of power.  He whooped in surprise and leapt back, looking between her and the shattered shaft.

“Stronger than you look...” he said with an amused smile, showing nearly feral teeth, “fine. You may go.” He dropped the shaft against his shoulder in a gesture that surely would have carried more impressive an effect if the axe had been whole.

She did her best to give him a gracious smile...

And she came swirling back to now.  She shook her head slightly to clear it and turned to reach out to get the stranger’s attention... but she had gone.

From the awkward stare of the clerk at the counter, she had been standing there staring into space for too long to pass it off as momentary distraction.  She turned and nodded to the confused clerk, offering a quiet apology, and then did her best to make her way out of the Nest without attracting further attention.

~~

@galynekh As requested.

[breakingbridges]

❊✥✢✦✻*♥ [ :D ]

YOU’RE SO NICE AND SWEET!! I love seeing you on my dash too

I HAVE AN ORONIR I WANNA RP AT OTHER XAELA m-maybe I stop being shy and I bring him to meet yu and other frands, I hope he fits in I’m not very good with Xaela things ovo’

[valgiraffe-ooc]

Do they have scars? Pick one and tell the story of how they got it. | Do they like to read? If so, what? | When was the last time they laughed? Why? | Is there anyone that they miss?

I’m going to do this for both my characters. :>

For Vallerin:@vallerinmiraudont-ffxiv1. He has nasty scars across his upper back, three large claw marks from a dragonkin. While not the most seasoned knight, he participated in a number of skirmishes. On this occasion, his post was overrun with Dravanians and one was able to catch him off guard. Not only did he get clawed in his back but he also took a hit to his face, knocking him unconscious (and also the source for the major scars on his face). Luckily, he was able to get dragged out of harm’s way and then sent back to Ishgard to see the chirugeons after the battle died down.2. Vallerin is really not much of a reader! He read as much as he needed to during his training for the knighthood and he’d gladly use a reference book if needed, but you won’t catch him reading for pleasure. He’d rather be physically active - work on his combat skills/training, clean up his gear and weapons, go for a chocobo ride, or go fishing.3. In the RP realm, I suppose the last time he laughed was with Marvik @theforestsquiet. Vallerin’s holed up with him, nursing an injury from a job that didn’t go exactly to plan. After a very awkward interaction, Val’s hungry stomach voiced it’s opinion and helped to break the tension. The two had a good laugh and it helped them both relax a bit. :>

4. *heavy sigh* Oh yes. Vallerin misses a lot of people and things, but most of all he misses Silvaire. It’s been ~5 years since his execution and while Val is able to function and is finding more happy moments now than he used to, he’s still very much grieving over the loss of his love.

For Zand’ir:@zandirbahjiri-ffxiv1. He has an “x” crossing between his eyes, courtesy of his cruel brothers. They pinned him down and carved it into his face in an effort to mar his good looks. (They did more than that but I’m saving that for a drabble I want to write soon.)2. Zand’ir can read enough to get by, but in no way is well educated or well-read. Reading for information he understands, but reading for pleasure? What a waste of time when there is hunting and work to be done.3. This catte does not laugh much. I imagine the last time he laughed was standing over a difficult kill and laughing out of adrenaline and the feeling of conquering such a beast. He does love to hunt.3. Ugh. I’m still truly getting his backstory down, but I could see him having one teeny positive force in his young life. That would be whoever took him under their wing and taught him hunting skills. Someone that actually saw his potential, unlike his close family. Perhaps he left Zand’ir after seeing how destructive he could be. Yeah, he would be bitter but, really, he would miss that person.

Thanks for the ask @galynekh!! 

[azure-et-aurum-blog]

@galynekh replied to your photo: “I’ve heard a lot about you lately. ‘Jade...

[ Totally saw the camera icon on you in game and thought “SCREENSHOT TIME!” and rushed over to refresh and wait for it to show up XD ]

ahahahhaha that’s the perfect way to start my game day, honestly XD it’s like a warm up before do stuff... or just being lazy to do roulettes and farms for now. But I’m flattered that you were already expecting something to show up here :D

[daylightrays]

Screenshot done by @galynekh who healed for us in totorak!

[gansukhimaa-archive]

“A parcel...from Sister Khantyer!” ( @galynekh​ )

Gansukh scrambled to heave the package into his arms and then ran inside in a hurry! Attached to it was a note, written in Xaelic...

For plants. Every sun.

Two drops. No more.

Gansukh was left with a quizzical expression on his face after reading. The Khatagtai was his teacher in the ways of botany...so this could in fact be...

"A test! To see if I am able to understand more advanced botany techniques! What a thoughtful idea!" He mused aloud as he opened the package and set it atop the busy shelf in his yurt.

There now stood a beautifully lacquered tray with all manner of liquids, tonics, potions? He wasn't entirely sure -- but they were varied in color and size and... "Phew! The scent from that one..." he huffed and placed the cork back into one of the mystery tonics before placing it back on the rack.

He wondered which he was tasked to use first. Though filled with intrigue of the result, he knew trying them all at once was folly. He decided to grab at a large green vial that called his attention. 

He held the vial and scanned the yurt where he had several blooms of plants and planters full of evergreens. "We'll try you first! On...a-ha!" 

Gansukh's eye zoomed onto a large hanging plant, filled with -- "HEDERA! Commonly called ivy! I read that in one of Miss Fufucha's botany tomes."

Gansukh certainly had read it, and shuffled over to the planter excitedly with the tonic in hand. Uncorking it, he sniffed at the bottle. It wasn't a smell he could readily describe but it wasn't unpleasant either.

He carefully, almost shakily poured one! Two drops of the elixir into the ivy plant and then stared at it. And continued staring for a few moments. Soon he clicked his tongue and asked aloud, "How long until something happens I wonder..."

Then it hit him -- "Of course! I'll bet each leaf will require a drop, since she said plants!" Gansukh's brilliantly stupid brainstorm lead him to drop the prescribed two drops on every single ivy leaf in the planter bed. The bottle wasn't emptied, but the evergreen were covered in the unique smelling liquid.

He plugged the vial with a pop of the cork. "That should do it! Now that it's been properly fed, wonder what'll happen..."

to be continued.

[kuzhukdotharl]

FFXIV IC CLASS KNOWLEDGE

D I S C I P L E S   O F   W A R


Being 8′2″, a freak of genetics due to his mixed Olkund-Dotharl blood, Kuzhuk has somewhat limited options when it comes to physical combat. It simply is impractical for him to attempt to excel at any method of fighting that does not take advantage of his mountainous form of muscle and testosterone. Being a Dark Knight by vocation, albeit a retired one these days, the Greatsword is a weapon that holds a close place in his heart. Growing up as a Dotharl, however, the whelp learned at least some basics in fighting with various other weapons.

GLADIATOR || PALADIN: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


MARAUDER || WARRIOR: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


DARK KNIGHT: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


PUGILIST || MONK: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


LANCER || DRAGOON: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


ROGUE || NINJA: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


SAMURAI: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


ARCHER || BARD: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


MACHINIST: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master

D I S C I P L E S   O F   M A G I C

<”Magic is for wimps”> - Kuzhuk 2018

More explicatively, Kuzhuk has little to no aetherial prowess whatsover. He was not trained as udgan as a child, it was never a fate meant to be. As such, he is woefully unskilled at both spectrums of magic. This being said, there is one single ‘path’ with which the man shows some promise. While his aetherial manipulation is certainly lackluster, only able to dip into black-white magics, his physical prowess creates a strong basis for a possible Red Mage. Although the man does not know this, there is room to grow somewhat given time and dedication.

CONJURER || WHITE MAGE: Unskilled |  Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


ARCANIST || SCHOLAR || SUMMONER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


ASTROLOGIAN:  Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


THAUMATURGE || BLACK MAGE: Unskilled |  Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


RED MAGE:  Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master

D I S C I P L E S   O F   T H E   H A N D

You know that neighbor who you call on to fix just about anything from a broken car engine to a leaking roof? Kuzhuk is that guy, but a grumpy Xaela version of one. Having learned to feed and care for himself, the man survived off the bounty of nature whilst living alone in the freezing forests of Dravania, hiding away from the world whilst he thought of what to do with his life. The result of all these experiences, as well as an earnest desire to put a life of fighting behind him, is a well-rounded skillset that is founded by a youth spent tending and making use of the land’s treasures. The scent of freshly cut sawdust clings to him in his workshop, as does the tanning oils to his ebony fingers after turning a cut hide into leather.

CARPENTER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


BLACKSMITH: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


ARMORER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


GOLDSMITH: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


LEATHERWORKER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


WEAVER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


ALCHEMIST: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


CULINARIAN: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master

D I S C I P L E S   O F   T H E   L A N D

Kuzhuk’s relationship with gathering from the land is somewhat borne out of necessity rather than an earnest desire to scour the earth for its treasures. When camping, he will catch his own fish to eat. Likewise, when in need of metals, he will mine ore himself rather than wait for another to get them. Perhaps though, the man is most at ease with a woodaxe slung over one shoulder and a scythe hanging from his back. Having built his own wooden cottage in the wilderness of Dravania, and now building his animal sanctuary from raw materials, the man can be considered a professional Lumberjack- sans the hairy chest. The smell of treesap on his gloves and of feeling the weight of chopped lumber on his shoulder gives him a sort of inner peace. Busy hands make for a peaceful mind.

MINER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


BOTANIST: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master


FISHER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master

Tagged by @galynekh , I saw this little ‘meme’ and thought it would be good fun! Also, credit to her for this art from long ago!

Tagging: @kanjodakai @gansukhimaa @muunokhoikha @stoneflames @aysundemiir @warriorganzorig @shinamalaguld And anyone else who’d like to give this a go!

[unenchdol-blog]

Textual Adventure (PT. 2)

,..Once..A many years ago, Ahjier had asked me to take the pain away. That which lie in his head, asleep. That which tore his heart asunder and scattered it like leaves in the wind. Once, he had asked me to erase it all. All the time, would he talk with me, placating his sadness..and his anger..even if for only a few hours. Ever since that day when the sky darkened with ash, and the air filled with the tinge of blood, he would talk with me. Like a boy confiding in a toy, a doll..a friend..I would listen to his woes. I would hear his pain.. And yet..despite hearing him..he fell ever further to madness. And I could not reach for him. Slowly his form would vanish from my eye sight. Into that pit of darkness, where the bottom could not be seen. Countless times my hands would thrust out, to be met with only the crushing weight of his wrath, and the ever expanding pit. I would beg. I would plead. Yet he never heard me. He knew I was there with him..All the time. As his feet landed in the scorching sand, and molten rock, the breezy grasslands, and across the coasts of a Rubied Sea, mine would land in the holes he’d made in the ground behind him. And for over a decade..I followed him..Picking up the pieces that fell off of him, cleaning the waste that had been left behind. And then..near the end, he asked me, with eyes as deep as the pit he had fallen into. A cracked voice, broken and unsung. And a want so strong, not even I could refuse. To take it all away...         “< No..More...>”...                            “< Let..it..end..>”...                                           “< Give..me...silence!...>”....

..And in an instant...I took his crown into my bosom..Into a cage of bone and flesh and cloth. From his pit of darkness, to my own, I took him. His whole, his entirety. I shielded him. I bound him. Naught would touch his poor, saddened mind, his ravaged, small body... For eternity would I guard him..And then silence. He quieted, his sobs calmed, his tears would fall no more. Yet in this silence I found..loneliness..He did not speak to me..for the longest of times..The world and its beings around me stilled..How much time had passed? A year? Ten? A hundred? An Aeon?  I could not tell. I could not hear my friend any longer..Until ‘she’ came along.. Slowly she whittled away the walls I had built, the cage to keep him safe. Slowly she tore down what I had raised... And I heard him again..That very same voice, yet it had grown into that of a man’s. And with it he had changed..He saw me as a hindrance..a plague across the valley of his mind, and while his darkness crept along with him, tame how it was, and his rage subsided, the ocean of wrath calmed. Fond, he grew of those things, that were a part of him, yet distasteful of me, did he become. It is that woman..She taints him..seduces him.. And with her betrayal of his heart, so shall I surface..Today he had spoken with me again..And asked for my help..I will show her...and I will begin anew with him..So that he may speak with me again..

[aegir-ffxiv]

Happy Birthday, Khantyer! @galynekh

[fistofthesun]

galynekh replied to your post: If you see me running on Mateus for the next 2...

*judges from a distance*

Hey, I’m trying to keep my reputation here, okay. :V All my Tumblr-friends so far when seeing Khashin for the first time ingame: “oh no, he’s hot.”  BECAUSE HE LOOKS HORRIBLE IN LOWGEAR. I once made a screenshot to prove as much.