#Malla Velius

[dat-paw]

The Victor’s Laurels

[Concerning crossbows, reunions, and missing allies...]

12 Rue Fisserano might as well be empty. It is deathly quiet in an unsettling sort of way. Alaq'it Moks shrugs awkwardly; the shift she found in her pack is musty and full of sand. Jenesis Labariel knows they're supposedly in a safe house, but she is on edge and unable to relax as they walk in. From somewhere above, A’zaela Linh hears the click of a crossbow bolt setting into place. A'zaela Linh: Stay back! Jenesis Labariel freezes, immediately, hands already moving for her lance. Alaq'it Moks has a knife at the ready at A'zaela's cry, ducking down. Ashelia Riot: ...A'zaela? A'zaela Linh throws her arms out and has to stop anyone from entering. A'zaela Linh 's ears twitch a few times. A'zaela Linh: Ashe? Ashelia Riot: Gods!

Lif Silverlode reaches for her sword and shield, immediately on edge. Jenesis Labariel relaxes nearly instantly at the sound of Ashelia's voice. Ashelia Riot vaults over the side of the loft, still holding the loaded crossbow in one hand. Ashelia Riot: It's good to see you all. Ashelia Riot beams with delight at A'zaela Linh. Suraja Solveig offers Ashelia Riot a humble greeting. A'zaela Linh: It's good not to have a crossbow bolt in me. Ashelia Riot: And- Jenesis! Jude! Alaq'it Moks lets out a sigh and puts the knife away, dusting more sand off A'zaela's knee. Ashelia Riot: Suraja too, even! Suraja Solveig nods to Ashelia Riot. Suraja Solveig: I decided t'come along. Lif Silverlode exhales, relieved to see the familiar woman, and smiles warmly at her. Ashelia Riot: And Kiri, I... Jenesis Labariel: We're here, old friend. Ashelia Riot is hoping they'll have enough room. Jude Paw: Boss. Jude Paw raises a hand in greeting. Jude Paw: Always love a reunion that starts with weapons drawn. Feels just like home, eh? Ashelia Riot laughs at Jude Paw. Kiri Kha smiles and gives a small wave. Kiri Kha: Glad to finally be able to offer help. Ashelia Riot: I take it you didn't meet with any trouble. Priscilla Scaevola notes that as the second time Ashelia Riot has tried to kill her, but says nothing and smiles. Priscilla Scaevola: Glad to see you safe. Jenesis Labariel grins at Jude as she removes her helmet with a heavy sigh. Gods, that thing could be stuffy. Suraja Solveig: Just anxiety. Suraja Solveig chuckles to herself briefly. Lif Silverlode: It's been tense getting here, but we should be safe enough. Ingvald is making sure we weren't followed.

Ashelia Riot: ...I can brief you all as soon as you're ready. I admit, I've no idea what you've heard thus far. Alaq'it Moks: Malla is missing. Ashelia Riot nods to Lif Silverlode. Priscilla Scaevola frowns at the mention of Malla, she nods. A'zaela Linh gets Alaq'it sand on her. She will have to remember to buy her a new shirt. She now feels bad. Ashelia Riot: Yes. Malla Velius - our Rabanastran contact, and my maternal aunt, is missing after discovering news of the IVth Legion's activities. Lif Silverlode nods and can't help but wonder how why Ashelia's family members always seem to be in dangerous situations. Alaq'it Moks: Was she able to pass on that news, or did it go missing with her? Ashelia Riot: She passed on the news - a confirmed broadcast from official IVth Legion channels. There's no chance of it being faulty intelligence this time around. Alaq'it Moks rubs her forehead; A'zaela Linh was right about the sun, and it's getting to her now, and she sits as she tries to frame another question. Alaq'it Moks: I do not suppose you can... trace back where she was? Alaq'it Moks has no goddamn clue how to be undercover. A'zaela Linh has always been an act and ask questions later type of person, so as per usual, she doesn't have much to ask. Ashelia Riot shakes her head. Jenesis Labariel absorbs all they're saying, frowning lightly as she processes. Ashelia Riot: She has gone undercover so as not to lead the Garleans back to us. Kiri Kha: So this was less she's captured than she was found out and is staying away? Priscilla Scaevola: She is good at that... Priscilla Scaevola tries to smile. Priscilla Scaevola: I think if they had found her we would know... Ashelia Riot nods to Kiri Kha. Suraja Solveig did what she could to learn all she could of this world in the Sandsea's library, but that wouldn't help her much here. She remains silent and listens as best she can. Ashelia Riot: Precisely. Kiri Kha: Well, that is better than capture at least. Ashelia Riot: It is. And there are ways in which we can begin to look for her. /And/ for us to act on the intelligence she sent through. Ashelia Riot: I hope to discuss those with all of you in the morning. For now, please, rest. Priscilla Scaevola: How are /you/, Ashelia? Kiri Kha: Is there anything I can do in the meantime? Today's just been a lot of waiting and travel. Not sure I could just rest at the moment. Jenesis Labariel nods, strategies and plans already rolling around in her head. She takes a quiet assessment of Ashelia before speaking. Jenesis Labariel: We are not the only ones who should be sure to rest, my friend. Ashelia Riot is wearing clothes that show she’s still thin from her encounter with Ultima - but there's an air of purpose to her, and the smile that lights her face is genuine. Ashelia Riot: I am well, given the circumstances. I trust the same can be said of you.

Alaq'it Moks flops sideways onto the cushion at that; she's awake and listening, but seems mildly annoyed. A'zaela Linh pats Alaq'it Moks' hair, careful to avoid her horns. Jude Paw listens in silence, seeming mildly concerned by it all but otherwise determined. Ashelia Riot: ...There are some blankets about, if anyone needs one. Kiri Kha: Is it safe to leave and be seen outside the room? Ashelia Riot hesitates. A'zaela Linh doesn't like the hesitation. Ashelia Riot: ...For now, I would say no. Not only because of Garlean patrols, but because the Dalmascan Resistance has eyes everywhere. Should they suspect you of being a spy not in their favor, they could take undue action against you. Kiri Kha frowns and nods. Alaq'it Moks sits back up. Alaq'it Moks: Wait.. we must needs hide from both the Garleans... AND the people fighting the Garleans? A'zaela Linh: I suppose that means I'll not get much mapping done, then. Ashelia Riot: It is a complicated, delicate situation... but yes. Alaq'it Moks flops sideways, again. She hates complicated and delicate situations. Suraja Solveig was a bit disappointed, but expected this. She wanted to do a bit of exploring but not at the expense of the mission. Priscilla Scaevola: So treat everyone like an enemy for now. Fun. Ashelia Riot: Edge will be back from his surveillance run soon. He'll have more to say as well. Lif Silverlode: Do we have any idea as to the current strength of the Garlean forces in the region? They had a heavy presence when we were getting here, but it is standard practice in the legions to display significant might at all times, even when undergarrisoned. Ashelia Riot: Quite strong, with regular patrols. Lif Silverlode ponders over Ashelia Riot. Ashelia Riot: I can give you our most updated reports. Lif Silverlode: Unfortunate. I was hoping that whatever they are planning in Bozja would have drawn more of them away. I would appreciate whatever you can give. Priscilla Scaevola: The resistance has not been quiet. It would make sense for the Empire to flaunt more of their might. Kiri Kha: Yeah, and if they have a strong presence here, if we show a strong presence it may put the local population in danger, they would use the people to try and draw us out. Lif Silverlode thinks on Priscilla's words, wondering if the Resistance can be used as a distraction, but keeps her thoughts to herself. A'zaela Linh: And you will be resting, Ashelia? You've eight people here now. You needn't stay up with a crossbow hugged to your chest. Ashelia Riot looks up at A'zaela Linh with a mixture of amusement and relief in her eyes. Ashelia Riot: ...You're right. I'll rest as well. We've had one fewer person to keep watch with Malla gone, after all. In that case, I'll be up in the loft should any of you need me. If one of you could take up watch in the office across the hall... Jude Paw: I'll take watch. I need less sleep than most. Ashelia Riot nods to Jude Paw. Ashelia Riot: My thanks, Jude. Priscilla Scaevola: I'll go find Grumpy Red. Kiri Kha was about to offer but was apparently beaten to it. A'zaela Linh: You can switch off with me, Jude. I don't sleep either. Suraja Solveig: I'm not in th'slightest tired, so I'll keep an ear out as well. Ashelia Riot: Thank you. Suraja Solveig nods to Ashelia Riot. Ashelia Riot: I'll... I'll speak with you all again soon, then. Jude Paw nodded in A'zaela Linh's direction, offering his silent thanks. Alaq'it Moks: You had better sleep! Alaq’it Moks fwumps A'zaela Linh with a cushion drowsily. A'zaela Linh: You first. Jude Paw: It's useless to try arguing with this one... Suraja Solveig stretches. Lif Silverlode turns her attention to the multitude of books surrounding her with deep interest. Jenesis Labariel: I'll share the load. Make sure to conserve your energy. Kiri Kha: Could away just sneak her a sleep potion. Suraja Solveig looks around. Alaq'it Moks grabs the cushion she bumped A'zaela Linh with, and scurries with it to the top of a bookcase.

[crimson-bull]

Reasons Wretched and Divine

Before the party makes to board the shuttle, Malla takes A'zaela Linh aside. A'zaela is instantly uncomfortable.

Malla Velius: "Alaq'it has the Scorpio stone. Have you noticed anything unusual?"

Malla Velius: "Or is... this... how she behaves?"

A'zaela turns and stares at Alaq'it, as if she's trying to gauge her behavior.

A'zaela Linh: "I suppose your definition of strange may be different than ours. If you mean strange vocabulary and a bit of hyperactivity, that's entirely normal, yes."

Malla Velius: "I mean speaking in tongues and referring to herself in grandiose terms."

Malla Velius makes a straight face at A'zaela Linh.

A'zaela Linh returns the stare. Something about Malla puts her -- or her stone? -- on edge. "If she acts worse for wear on the mission, I will send her home. I've almost watched her die once. I will not let anything like it happen again."

Fawn, as always, is keeping to herself. She keeps glancing to each party member simply to check up on them.

Alaq'it is keeping a back to the wall, back from the group.

Malla Velius: "Good. The shuttle's almost ready; we can depart whenever you're prepared."

Malla Velius hasn't spoken with Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn since the night Grissom died, but she makes a point to engage with him before they leave.

As Malla moves, Alaq'it slinks behind A'zaela, gripping her belt gently.

Malla Velius: "Is there anything else you need?”

Fawn gives the giant bag by her left a nudge with her foot. "Good to go here."

Ashelia Riot nods to Timid Fawn.

A'zaela Linh: "How are you faring?" A'z asks Alaq'it, hopefully quiet enough so Malla does not hear.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn Bull shakes his head, "Nothin' that you could really provide me with. I'm ready to go."

Malla Velius nods again. "Then we'd best be off."

Alaq'it simply returns a smile to A'z, keeping the taller girl between her and Malla.

Fawn hoists the bag up from the ground, letting it hang from her shoulder. "Mhm. Let's."

Malla Velius: "I will warn you that Lady Fran is rather direct."

Malla says this in an almost /admiring/ tone.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "So she ain't much different than you."

Malla Velius: "...More so than me."

With that, she flies the party into Rabanastran airspace.

A'zaela Linh: "...you're doing better, Bull?"

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "I had a lot of time to think. I guess 'better' is a good way to say it, yeah."

A'zaela Linh nods once, her face surprisingly neutral. Weeks ago, there might have been worry, empathy, even a bit of fear on her face. But now, there was simply nothing, as if she were trained to keep all emotion off her face. "I'm glad to hear it. Truly." We'll need your voice for this mission today. I'm glad to have you here." Her eyes train on Fawn. "All of you."

Fawn watches A'zaela and Alaq'it. With the lack of knowing them for less than a few weeks, she cannot  decipher if there is anything truly odd about them... At least with any subtle displays. "Of course." She directs to A'zaela.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Can't say I'm lookin' forward to playin' diplomat, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn shrugs at A'zaela Linh.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "...as long as these people don't try to fight me, I think I'll do fine." he flashes a thumbs up.

Timid Fawn: "Let's hope not..."

Only Alaq'it went into the sewers the previous time, and it seems remarkably different to her: the atmosphere, while still ominous, does not contain the air of a place that is about to explode at any second.

Alaq'it is hanging back from the group enough so that she keeps everyone in her sight. Rhotfarr's comment about the Resistence fighting them has only fueled her quiet paranoia.

The Garamsythe Waterway is centuries old - and this time, Bull sees evidence of the ages past. He sees etching from times long ago, and though he cannot read their words, he can tell that they were carved to record dwindling water reserves as part of a final effort for survival. So too does he see evidence of current use - and current hardships. As he turns, he sees a young girl, no more than eight years old, but she meets his eye for no more than a moment before fleeing into the shadows.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "It's always a damn shame when people gotta hide in their own home like this." he shakes his head, "Havin' to resort to livin' like rats because of somethin' so petty like power. Makes me sick." his face twists into a frown.

Fawn tries to figure what he says, or saw, rather. But she doesn't see a damn thing. "Are you spottin' somethin' we aren't, er...?"

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Yeah, there was a girl there. Only got a glance before she ran off."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn seems lost in thought.

Fawn tries to follow his gaze, or at least where it was.

A'zaela's eyes widen. "There are people...living here?" She frowns, now glancing all around her.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Unless kids are just playin' games in the sewers of an occupied city, I'd assume so."

Timid Fawn: "Both are believable to me, honestly." Her head slowly weaves and bobs as she's surveying the area herself even if there is no evidence for her to spy upon.

The party comes to a point in the tunnel that opens to a wide, sprawling view of the sewer system - the place where Malla had hinted a member of the Resistance would be waiting for you. She stands as though she has nothing else to do, her gaze calm. She is a Viera woman - and given her ears, she seems to have sensed your presence well in advance.

Fran: "Well met, Riskbreakers,"

A'zaela Linh: "Well met,"

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "See? What'd I tell ya? Not playin' around." he nudges Fawn.

Fawn feels an utter sense of... dread? Upon seeing Fran. Her gazed is averted but she gives a grunt in acknowledgement...

Fran casts them all - but mostly Bull - a very /intense/ look. It isn't inherently unfriendly, but you aren't certain what to make of it, either. "I understand you've come with questions for the Resistance. I cannot say I blame you."

Most of Alaq'it's face stays as it has been, but at the sight of Fran's extremely large ears, her mouth twitches almost imperceptibly into a smile. The effect is very short-lived.

A'zaela nods once, flipping through all of the things she could possibly even think to ask. She starts strong: "What can you tell us of Grissom? I was under the impression that he was a long standing member of the Resistance. Yet we've no idea why he turned coats and stole the auracite. Any information you have could be valuable."

Alaq'it Moks: "Yes, perhaps you know why he let his head get away from him."

Fran: "Grissom." Her face darkens visibly at the name. "I cannot say I know of everything that came to pass... but he coordinated with Lente's Tears - my faction of the Dalmascan resistance - for several years."

A'zaela Linh "And?" she asks, eyes sparkling from the new information. "Was there anything to foreshadow his dissent? A tie to the empire, a trigger -- anything?"

Fran places a hand upon her chin in a gesture of thought, "There were signs, in truth. All of them recognized in hindsight. He came to Rabanastre from Lea Monde, along with his brother - but at that time, there had been no resistance activity from the region in the better part of a year. My sisters in the Golmore Jungle said as much.That was... seven years ago."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Talk about a slow burn...what did he do for y'all?"

Fran: "He was a swordsman, his brother a thaumaturge. But of the two, Grissom was the strategist." Fran stares off into the distance, as though she has just realized something. "...And when he suggested we give the Virgo stone to Ashelia Riot as a token of goodwill, none of us in Lente's Tears thought better of it."

Alaq'it Moks: "Brother?" Her voice feels almost like a croak from speaking out of impulse; she swallows hard.

Fawn finally decides to chime in, recalling /some/ of the conversation from the infirmary. "...Do you and yours have any stones in your possession now?"

Fran turns to Alaq'it Moks. "Duane. He died in the Barheim Incident." She nods her head in a different direction - the direction which Alaq'it may or may not recognize as being the way toward the Barheim Passage. Alaq'it does not look away from Fran or acknowledge the Passage.

Fran: "No. At the time of your Grand Steward's first contact with Malla, we had only four stones in our possession: Virgo, Leo, Sagittarius, and Cancer. Grissom made away with them all."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn seems lost in thought.

A'zaela's eyes narrow. "Surely you knew the dangers of handing auracite to strangers."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Those were the only four you had? We found the Taurus stone on his person...where would he have gotten that?"

Fran: "The stones responded to none of us - not even our leader. Or so we believed. Now we suspect Grissom may have been carrying more all along. Though where he found those... it is impossible to say."

Timid Fawn: "What about the one A'zaela picked up in the clearing? What was that one?" She looks between Bull and A'zaela.

Timid Fawn seems lost in thought.

Fran's eyes move back and forth between the four of them as she realizes that they have stones with them.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn shrugs.

A'zaela Linh: "I am uncertain. I ended up giving mine to Ashelia."

Fran: "I thought we had agreed to meet in good faith, Riskbreaker. Or so Malla said."

At the words "in good faith", Alaq'it feels her pulse pick up.

A'zaela Linh: "The same good faith that you handed the Virgo stone to Ashelia Riot?" A'zaela asks, her tone flat. The stone pulses hot on her chest, and she winces and grabs at the hidden necklace around her throat.

Fran tenses, as though readying herself for an explosion.

Bull’s face turns stern, eyes shifting back and forth between A'zaela and Fran, "Please don't do this, we can't afford it. Any of us."

Fran: "As I said: a suggestion from an ally of many years. Neither I nor the leader of Lente's Tears would have-"

Alaq'it is now looking from Fran to A'zaela. Her head movements are slow and controlled, but her eyes are wide, cornered prey. Rhotfarr's words register dimly.

A'zaela's stone is a bright purple, exposing it for what it is; the Sagittarius auracite. She breaks out in a cold sweat and the metal becomes hotter in her hands, burning her.

A'zaela Linh: "I-I'm sorry, I--" she lets out a painful shriek and rips it from her neck, letting it clatter loudly to the ground.

Alaq'it's rising panic is slightly calmed by A'zaela's injury. "A'zaela. Your hands." She ignores the stone, reaching for A'zaela's hands to heal. Instead of healing, the burn seems to be turning slightly green.

Timid Fawn is visibly alert at this point, glaring at the stone. She turns her attention to A'zaela. "Are you alright?"

Fran is staring at the stone, still not moving from her defensive position.

A'zaela’s entire body shakes. "She--she's angry. I-I don't know--she's mad at me for not lying well enough. She wants Ashelia, she wants me back, b-but she hurt me, and -- OW!!"

Alaq'it Moks: "The healing... did not take," Alaq'it explains to Fawn, without taking her eyes of A'z.

A'zaela Linh stares at Fran, still truly trusting Alaq'it to heal her. She can't control aether -- she doesn't know what's going wrong with the healing. "I-I'm sorry, Fran. I...please. Bull. Keep asking questions. I-I don't want to ruin this, I..."

Alaq'it kneels by A'zaela and attempts to invoke a stronger Arcana. This time, the skin seems to be mending. Fawn shadows over the both of them just in case if things go awry with the mending.

Fran bends gracefully, picking up the Sagittarius stone by the chain.

Bull kneels next to A'zaela, "The stones are nothin' but trouble," he looks up toward Fran, "And will kill us all if we don't find a way to deal with them."

Fran: "It would seem so."

A'zaela flinches away when Fran touches the Auracite, as if something is about to strike her. She shivers as she feels eyes on her back, as though Shemhazai is glaring at her.

Fran stares for a moment into the stone's purple facets. Briefly, it's as if she can see something, and there's a flash - or maybe just a glimmer. But then the moment passes, and Fran hands the stone out to the two Roegadyn for one of them to take.

Timid Fawn: "Please, try to keep your wits about you... Breath slow and deep." She gingerly places a hand on A'zaela's shoulder. She doesn't quite understand what's ailing her, but she sees the physical symptoms.

Alaq'it stares at the stone hanging from Fran's fingers. "A'zaela, she is yours."

Bull puts his hands up, "I've had my fill of these damn things." he motions to Fawn, "She'd be the one to trust with it."

Fawn holds out her hands. "Never trusted the damned things to begin with..." She shoves the stone into her pocket without a second thought.

Fran gives a very cautious glance at Alaq'it, then places the stone in Fawn's hands.

A'zaela calms down for a moment upon hearing Alaq'it speak. It's...a sudden clarity. She knows what needs to be done.

Alaq'it grips A'zaela's shoulder tightly, and leans toward a tall ear for one more whisper, meant only for A'z. "Yours."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "If only we could just...y'know. Dispose of them."

Timid Fawn: "Cast them to a volcano I say..."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Keep that safe until we can secure it somewhere it won't hurt anyone."

A'zaela takes a moment. She listens to Alaq'it. Then she looks at Fran, "Miss. What can you tell us about Ashelia? Not our Ashelia. There is another. Was another. Will be another? My Ashelia said something about it, but it...it didn't make any sense."

For the first time, Fran's eyes widen in surprise.

Fran: "...Malla must have told you of her. I will say no more. Should you be captured, should you or your stone fall into imperial hands, there is no telling who may come upon that information. Therefore, I will say nothing of the Princess."

A'zaela Linh: "What? No, I..." A'zaela rubs a hand over her eye. "I fear that the Virgo stone is taking her over. The Virgo and Sagittarius stone -- they plot together. While we were speaking...she had a vision. A vision of another Ashelia..."

Alaq'it Moks: "So, there IS another. Now." Alaq'it pats A'zaela's head as she stands.

Bull tilts his head at Alaq'it Moks, she's been acting...strange, stranger than usual.

A'zaela looks at Fawn. "It's why she's so angry. She knows I will protect Ashelia with my life." She looks at Fran, clearly upset, but understanding. "Of course. I'm...I'm sorry I let it happen this way."

Fran shakes her head, her hair swishing across her shoulders. "Of what visions the stone may have given your leader, I know nothing - only that, in legends, the stones have made prophets and saints of mortals ...I am sorry."

Bull scoffs, "These legends are just that, legends - too good to be true."

Fran gives a smirk - though not necessarily an unkind one.

A'zaela stares at Fawn again -- at the pocket she put the auracite away in. "Perhaps we should all start putting a bit more stock in legends."

Fran: "They certainly served Grissom well."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "So well that he became more machine than man then got his head cut off. Yeah, REAL well."

Fran: "Hm?"

Fawn keeps an eye on A'zaela, uncertain of her potential desire to retrieve the stone back or not. "He was off when we found him. Metal legs... Metal voice. Weird." She says to Fran. "Was he like that when he joined?"

Fran: "No. He was Hyuran."

Timid Fawn: "No fixed limbs or anything? None of that?" Fawn isn't that great at words but she's trying.

Fran: "No." She seems certain of it, after having known and fought alongside the man for seven years.

Timid Fawn seems lost in thought.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Even up to the point he took the auracite and fled, fully himself at that time?"

Fran: "...He was gone for stretches at a time, but I would certainly have noticed if he had become what you describe."

A'zaela Linh: "That means from the time he deserted and the time we found him, he was turned into a metal shell of what he once was. He still bled, but...he was..."

Timid Fawn: "Do we have a timeframe of that?" She asks no one in particular.

A'zaela Linh: "No. I don't know. Malla might."

Timid Fawn: "Fair. I might ask her on our return." She nods.

A'zaela Linh: "At least...we know that having so many around us is incredibly dangerous. Do you know of a way to destroy them, Miss?" For some reason, she can't bring herself to say's Fran's name, like she doesn't deserve it after what Shemhazai made her say.

Fran: "I do not. But I will consult with my people - and determine if a solution may lie in myth."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "A legend to destroy another legend, how fittin'." he chuckles at the thought.

Fran: "Precisely."

A'zaela finally stands. She's run out of questions, but she looks around at everyone else who might have one. Her gaze lingers on Alaq'it. Thinking. Knowing.

Alaq'it meets her stare. "You are well?"

A'zaela Linh only nods.

Timid Fawn shifts her gaze briefly in Fran's direction, but not /on/ her. "...Do you have any questions for us, Fran?"

Fran purses her lips. "You say that you have found more stones. How many do you have?"

Fawn squints for a moment, holding up both hands to count on each finger. At least she's trying to remember them all.

A'zaela Linh looks at Fawn, then Bull. "Was it...ten? So many numbers flew around the last time it was brought up..."

Alaq'it Moks: "More than he left the Resistance with." Alaq'it moves her stare back to Fran.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Ten by last count, yeah." he nods firmly.

Timid Fawn: "I know someone made mention that two were missing..."

Fran: "And your Grand Steward. You say the stone has spoken to her?"

Fawn looks to A'zaela to answer that one.

A'zaela pauses, her chin quivering for a moment, almost scared to say anything more about Ashelia out loud. "She's..."

Bull gives A'zaela a stern look, "She's what? This is important, if you know anythin', it'd be best to tell us."

A'zaela Linh swallows. "Let's just say we need to get the stone away from her."

Fran nods. "I will remain in contact with Malla, in that case."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Might be best we get the stones away from everyone who's got one, honestly. Causin' quite a pain."

Fran: "I must take my leave. Be well. All of you."

Timid Fawn: "Take care." She bids farewell to Fran with a small wave.

A'zaela does not say goodbye. She doesn't want to say anything. She's a mixture of ashamed and embarrassed, making her jaw lock.

Fran inclines her head to Fawn and departs.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "I think she likes you." he nudges Fawn, giving a laugh.

Fawn's face turned a deep shade of red. "Sssh." She avoids everyone's gaze.

Alaq'it Moks: "I do not think... I do not think that is wise until we know a way to destroy them." She says this after giving a halfhearted wave to Fran, before turning to put the others in her view. She tilts her head at Fawn a bit after Rhotfarr's comment.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "I think that it'd be a lot easier if we did, they've been no help to us. None at all."

Alaq'it moves to check A'zaela's hand as she responds. "You are not wrong, but you saw what they did to Grissom, gathered in one place."

Timid Fawn clears her throat. "Right... We'll have to keep tight communications in the hopes of knowing how."

Alaq'it Moks: "If we keep them separate until we know how to destroy them, it will minimize such a thing happening again."

Alaq'it Moks: "Yes... and he did say she likes you."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "Keep 'em separate, but secure them apart from each other. Out of people's hands."

A'zaela lets her hand be taken, but she is wary now. Yet...she still trusts Alaq'it, and does not let her hestation show.

Timid Fawn: "...As much as I enjoy playing in smelly sewers, I think that's all we can do here for now."

Alaq'it Moks drops A'zaela's hand and nods to Fawn. "I will... I think it is called 'taking point'." She scurries ahead at this point.

A'zaela Linh lets Alaq'it run off, but stops both Bull and Fawn, speaking quietly. "Alaq'it has a stone. A dangerous one, I think."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "All the more reason to take it from her."

Timid Fawn: "Exactly."

A'zaela Linh: "I agree. But...do not talk about it around her. She..." she holds out her hand. It's still slightly green, "If it's anything like mine, she's a ticking time bomb. Let me handle her. Please."

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: "That stone's gonna make her erratic, and erratic means dangerous. I hope you know what you're doin'."

A'zaela Linh: "...I do. I made a promise to myself a long time ago. I won't let anything happen to her."

Timid Fawn leans in to examine A’zaela’s hand, her face scrunching in disgust. "That's... Let me clean that up." She goes for the pack straped to her belt, pulling out a few square gauze and a bottle of what appears to be alcohol.

A'zaela flinches back a little, but lets her hand be taken. The Sagittarius stone...it was too close. But Fawn was right-- it needed to be cleaned. "...Thank you...I watched Alaq'it almost die once. Right after Sylvan...'died'. I almost lost two that day. It won't happen again. Ever. I'll rip that stone from everyone's hands, if I need to. I swear it." Tears spring to her eyes--not from the alcohol, but she hopes it seems that way.

Timid Fawn: "Anytime... It ain't lookin' pretty right now, but let's hope this helps." She opens the bottle and pour a fair amount of the clear liquid over the wounds. "If you need back up, we are only a call away. You know that, right?"

A'zaela Linh: "I do. I won't hesitate to ask. I promise. And...I'm sorry. I messed up today. I didn't mean to ruin this for all of us..."

Timid Fawn wraps up A'zaela's hands as neatly as she can in bandages. "I feel this little meetin' went okay." She smiles reassuringly.

Rhotfarr Sundyrfyrsyn: Bull puts a hand on A'zaela's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, "We all screw up sometimes, what's important is we learn from it and be better from it." he gives her a smile and a thumbs up.

Timid Fawn: "Exactly. It's already happened. No point in dwellin' on it." She gives the bandages a little tug to test their tautness before letting the Miqo'te's hands go.

A'zaela Linh nods, giving a small smile. Then she gestures toward where Alaq'it ran off. "Thank you. I'll....thank you."

A'zaela Linh: "...We should probably find her before she gets lost."

[thecat-inthehat]

The Wine Cellars of Lea Monde

Ashelia Riot does not explain as she readies the team for the Lea Monde mission why her hair is now several ilms longer. Nor does she explain why she and Malla seem to be ill at ease with one another. Malla does, however, fly the team via the shuttle to their destination.

Seeing as he's shown up with an extra pair of large horns after an extended absence with no offered explanation, Tai is not prone to questioning such things.

Malla explains along the way that the city of Lea Monde lies well to the south of Dalmasca, through vast tracts of the Golmore Jungle. Fortunately, Malla knows from prior experience of a clearing through which an aircraft might land, and she pilots you to that area with little difficulty. Still, the city itself has been almost entirely transformed into a Garlean outpost. It is the capital of Dalmasca Inferior - the Garleans' "lesser" hold upon the region. Hinako’s book has this to say: “Lea Monde is an old town, with a history of over two thousand years. Its walls have seen many battles - they are stronger than the mightiest forts of Dalmasca, and as the sun wheels through the sky, the beauty of their shifting colors surpasses that of any palace.” Malla drops the party in the clearing, and soon you see the walls for yourself, even from a distance. Most of all, you see the Great Cathedral, towering above the skyline. Nearby, though you cannot see it from where you stand, is the sea.

Hinako Daigo would not show it but she is ill at ease, and before stepping off to Lea Monde she is heard and seen in intonation in her tongue. "...O kami of the four winds, I humbly request you do usher your guidance and bestow upon me and my own your divine guidance and graces. [Omamori]" Malla Velius departs - and she takes Priscilla's anxious look in stride. Nivelth Ajuyn looks calm, perhaps a tad more so than she should be, listening to the prayer silently. At her feet, an emerald carbuncle twines through her legs like an anxious cat. Akhutai Urit also looks calm. In fact, one could say he looks toward the Cathedral with veritable disinterest. Ashelia Riot: "Shall some of us survey ahead?" Though she herself proposed this mission, she does not entirely know what exactly they will be looking for in the city. Nivelth Ajuyn: "Do we know what we're looking for? Or is this going to be a bit like our survey to Rabanastre?" Ashelia Riot: "We're looking for... answers. I presume to do with the auracite. But yes - I imagine we'll gather as many clues as we can in a reasonable amount of time." Eindride Stokys looks concerned at mention of the survey being similar to Rabanastre and clutches his staff. Please no. Akhutai Urit moves just a bit ahead of the group without a word, eyes towards their destination. He looks around the area before give a slight shrug and moving forward a few more steps. Perhaps part of him manages to think that moving too far away from the group would be a bad idea, so he pauses. Hinako Daigo: "...Nothing for it but to move forward, then. I will go on ahead, as well" she responds, not just because she figures she will be able to pick up on necessary presence, but that Akhutai's demeanor has been leaving her somewhat guarded since the Prima Vista incident. || The upper reaches of the city appear to be swarming with Garleans. Hinako Daigo furrows her brow. Priscilla Scaevola has been uncharacteristically silent on the moments leading to this.  "I've got an idea." Ashelia Riot: "Yes?" Nivelth Ajuyn looks up at the city, frowning. "What's your idea, Pris?" Priscilla Scaevola: "They've must be aware the Prima Vista just swooped by.  I can probably stroll through there-" She gestures to the upper city. "- mostly unnoticed and see what information can I find." Nivelth Ajuyn wonders at the wisdom of that. Isn't Priscilla still wanted? Ashelia Riot: "While the rest of us remain hidden?" Ashelia Riot isn't entirely certain she likes the idea of Priscilla Scaevola going on her own. She suspects a certain romantic fool of a Garlean will murder her upon her return to the Sandsea. Nivelth Ajuyn: "Do you need one of us to pose as your servant or retainer? So you're not going alone?" Priscilla Scaevola shrugs. "It's an idea." She looks at Erindride. "He can probably blend with me. Looks like boyfriend material." Ashelia Riot: "..." Eindride Stokys eyes widen. "Can't say I agree with that." Priscilla Scaevola she looks at Eindride again. "We are from the Prima Vista, looking for material for a new play." Ashelia Riot shakes her head. Ashelia Riot: "After what happened over Kugane, the Majestic may not be the most popular people in the Empire at the moment." Priscilla Scaevola: "..." Reconsiders. "Yeah, no, I am not going up there." Ashelia Riot: "...Although." Akhutai Urit gives a hum of thought, "Surely a storied place such as that has...multiple entrances.." Eindride Stokys: "That could be a possibility." Ashelia Riot nods to Akhutai Urit. Ashelia Riot: "Precisely. And if we end up needing to go above ground for any reason, Priscilla can be a scout." Priscilla Scaevola mocks an appalled gesture at Erindride. "How quickly he to chose the sewers over his new girlfriend." She nods at Ashelia when given a position. "Can do that." Ashelia Riot: "Oh, leave him be." Eindride Stokys: "It'd be far more likely for me to have a boyfriend in the future rather than a girlfriend," it's not the best time, but he chuckles a bit. Hinako Daigo gives a soft grin. Nivelth Ajuyn waves her fingers, and her carbuncle gives a soft yip. "He can accompany you, if needed. I can set him up with diversion and poison cloud spells if you need to make a quick getaway. But I'd like to stick to the idea of not being noticed." Ashelia Riot: "As would I." Akhutai Urit sets his hands on the hilt of his sword with an almost disappointed expression but says nothing. Priscilla Scaevola: "I can be subtle. And got a few tricks up my sleeve if things go sour." Nivelth Ajuyn nods to Priscilla Scaevola. Ashelia Riot: "Now, then..." Ashelia Riot searches the vicinity, walking around for any potential underground openings. Ashelia Riot is, more than anything, getting impatient; she /knows/ something's there, but she cannot find it. Hinako Daigo: "Hmm..." Akhutai Urit also begins to search. though he seems..less inclined, for whatever reason. Hinako Daigo kneels respectfully. Hinako Daigo: "..." Hinako Daigo shrugs. Ashelia Riot: "It has to be here." By now she sounds frustrated, annoyed; she's close to drawing her stone from her pocket. Nivelth Ajuyn: "What are you looking for? What do you expect to find?" Akhutai Urit just...stares...in a direction. He sighs. "...Ashe." If he catches her attention, he just vaguely gestures. Ashelia Riot: "A path. Anything. I-" Ashelia Riot then catches sight of where Tai is looking. Ashelia Riot: "...That.” "That" is what appears to be a cellar door - almost identical to the one her father locked behind her during their last moments together before Ala Mhigo fell. The sight makes her heart lurch. Hinako Daigo watches Ashelia intently... Eindride Stokys: "I'd say that's our way in." Ashelia Riot steps forward and gives the door a heave. Its hinges creak as the old wood resists, but it opens with little effort. Ashelia Riot: "I'll take the rear." Akhutai Urit: "A cellar. How typical." Assuming no one else does it first, he just...goes in past the old doors. Hinako Daigo takes a breath and follows Akhutai in. Nivelth Ajuyn sniffs the air, her nose wrinkling slightly, but follows. Ashelia Riot ushers the others in before her. For perhaps the first time in this entire expedition, Ashe steps into the cool, darkened underground hall and feels something resembling peace. It reminds her of Ala Mhigo’s Undercity: though she’s never been in this place, though she does not know the way forward, the feeling of being so far under the earth is a comfortingly familiar sensation. Priscilla Scaevola closes her eyes briefly before entering. "Here we go..." || Until the ground trembles beneath the party’s feet. Akhutai Urit: "Exciting." Hinako Daigo looks down at the ground. "...?" Ashelia Riot: "Is everyone alright?" Priscilla Scaevola gaze travels from one of his companions to the next. Half expecting they caused it. "This bodes i'll. Which might mean we are heading the right way..." Nivelth Ajuyn distributes her weight easy enough, frowning slightly. She touches the stone in her pocket. Akhutai Urit: "I was beginning to worry this was going to be easy," he begins to smirk. Eindride Stokys looks a little shaken, but is otherwise fine. He nods to Ashelia. Hinako Daigo nods. "Yes, and I'm inclined to agree with Miss Priscilla." || The party have ended up in a cellar - a wine cellar, one of great renown throughout all of Hydaelyn. Priscilla Scaevola wants to steal. Hinako Daigo looks around. Akhutai Urit doesn't much care for wine and begins looking around. Eindride Stokys: "There's something odd about this place...", he says, staring at the walls. || It's all wine. Akhutai Urit is basically going to just wander off at this point until he finds something of note at all unless someone stops him. || Wine is boring. Peering more deeply and placing a hand flat onto the wall, Eindride’s odd feeling finally starts to make sense. "There's definitely been some Black magicks used in here." Priscilla Scaevola places her attention at the floor. If there is something below she expected to find a latch or looks under rugs if any. Nivelth Ajuyn looks around, while her carbu sniffs at the wines. She taps her finger against one of the barrels, and frowns. "... poison. I think some of these are poisoned." || There are no rugs; the floor seems ordinary. Ashelia Riot: "Poison?" Nivelth Ajuyn looks ... conflicted. "I ... don't know why, but it feels poisoned." Ashelia Riot thinks of how Nivelth Ajuyn poisoned a Garlean to death within seconds. Hinako Daigo saunters and studies every ilm she passes "Black magic, poison... all things considered, though, it is still a wine cellar. Assuredly quite an old and grand one, so... our path is not like to end here..." The dull thud of metal on wood can be heard down the way as Tai smacks his sword into a wine barrel. Nivelth Ajuyn investigates the barrel for a moment, and pulls it out slightly. In the brim of the wood, there's a hole in it, and what looks like a rat's corpse. The creature clearly died while trying to burrow into the wine, resulting in the poisoning of it. Ashelia Riot wrinkles her nose but offers no other sign of disgust. Nivelth Ajuyn: "Well. That's not useful." Priscilla Scaevola eyes widen at the revelation. "That's... not good..." Ashelia Riot: "Let's keep moving." Hinako Daigo stops for a moment to look back. She would rather not ask why poison the wine, for she can presume plenty. Hinako Daigo continues. Eindride Stokys stares at the rat's corpse. "We should exercise caution around these barrels in the very least..." Tai definitely notices that there are burn marks close to some of the walls. There are also scattered bottles, and discarded corks. People have been living here, though perhaps not recently. Akhutai Urit nudges an empty bottle with the tip of his sword. "We missed a party." Nivelth Ajuyn walks forward to catch up to Tai, tail flicking in agitation. Priscilla Scaevola: "It’s not a party until we get there. Are there any notes or belongings?" || There is a black mage's staff, made from a metal that you can't entirely seem to identify; whatever it is, it's beautifully wrought and contains a sphere of blown glass at its apex. Akhutai Urit: "I feel anyone with more expertise with magical focuses than I should take a look at that," Tai says, remarking on the staff. Priscilla Scaevola doesnt touch a thing. Eindride Stokys: "I can take a look...", he says a bit hesitantly. He's not sure if he even wants to touch it himself, in all honesty. Nivelth Ajuyn: "I can look it over," she offers. She doesn't sound concerned. Akhutai Urit: "Well, you two can have at it, I suppose." Eindride Stokys can feel the aether pulsing from the staff. "Whoever owned this, they were very experienced in magicks in the very least..." || The earth rumbles again, this time sending a shower of pebbles over the party's heads. Nivelth Ajuyn looks it over in Eindride's hands, but she gets nothing from it. "It... seems useless to me--what was that." Hinako Daigo observes the staff before looking up at the ceiling. "What on..." Akhutai Urit looks up at the ceiling as everything shakes again. He clicks his tongue. Ashelia Riot: "We need to hurry." Ashelia Riot has seen how cave-ins happen in the Undercity. Priscilla Scaevola nods. Nivelth Ajuyn scooches closer to Tai, her tail flicking rapidly. Eindride Stokys: "...Perhaps we'll get crushed before any of these odd findings can do any harm to us," despite the grim nature of the sentence he sounds rather cheery. Akhutai Urit smirks, "Death won't come so easily. I think time will be on our side, at least for a little while." He glances down at Nive before moving forward, but this time stopping before he gets too far ahead of the group and glances back. "Shall we keep moving?" His eyes flick to the staff, "Should we keep that or leave it behind?" Priscilla Scaevola: "Bring it, it might have an use down the road." That same strange expression comes over Ashelia Riot's face at Akhutai Urit's words, and she nods. Ashelia Riot: "Time enough with you at our side, my old friend." Akhutai Urit looks to Ashelia and his eyes Flash before he flashes a grin, "Of course." Hinako Daigo places a hand above her chest. "Right... Well, we are only building more questions than answers at the moment. Let alone a way through. And these tremors..." Eindride Stokys: "I can carry the staff along with, if need be," while he's a bit intimidated by the thing, he can't help but have his interest piqued by the staff at this point. Ashelia Riot nods to Eindride Stokys. Ashelia Riot: "By all means." Nivelth Ajuyn looks over at him, frowning at the staff, but sticks close to Tai as the group starts to move a bit. Ashelia Riot takes point for the next section, which is long and winding and unfinished. She takes them through what can only be the deepest infrastructure of the city, down to the fabled ramparts themselves - and the path leads them all further underground. Hinako Daigo remains silent, focused, trying to get a read on her environs as they get deeper and deeper. Akhutai Urit: "These people surely loved their underground infrastructures.." Nivelth Ajuyn: "You know, the last time Tai and I went underground, it didn't exactly end well," she mutters into the air, giving a shudder. "Can't wait to see how this one turns out." Akhutai Urit: "As long as our secrets and fears don't get turned against us this time." Priscilla Scaevola: "Last time I went undeground with Tai it didnt exactly end well either. " She grins. Akhutai Urit: "I believe we can conclude, then, that if something goes wrong, it is my fault." Nivelth Ajuyn: "Only if it's underground. I think you're in the clear otherwise." Nivelth Ajuyn beams with delight at Akhutai Urit. Akhutai Urit smirks. || At the end of the tunnel lies a pile of fabrics - Dalmascan civilian clothes. They aren't laid out in place of where someone died; they're thrown in a heap on the ground. Priscilla Scaevola pokes the pile of clothes with the barrel of her gun. || Some rats skitter out from inside the pile. Priscilla Scaevola: "Agh!" Hinako Daigo: "Abandoned garments? And they have been here for some time as well." Eindride Stokys: "Strange." Akhutai Urit: "Well then." Tai looks around, "...I can only think of grim circumstances." Hinako Daigo: "I have a bad feeling ... Signs of life underground, black magic, raiments cast aside..." Hinako Daigo: "Poisoned wine..." Priscilla Scaevola just shakes her head. She likes the fieldtrip less and less. Akhutai Urit: "If we continue much further, I'm nearly positive we'll find a body or two." Akhutai Urit: "Or what's left of one." Hinako Daigo: "Someone's endgame, whatever that may have been. Or may be." || As the party proceeds, the sense of wrongness further permeates their surroundings - especially for Eindride Stokys. However, if possible, the surroundings grow somewhat more refined - elegant. Akhutai Urit pulls his lips back into something reminiscent of a snarl and the grip on his sword tightens. He doesn't say anything, just tenses up in preparation for...something. Hinako Daigo is deep in thought.

[magitek-powered-calligraphy]

Rendezvous

nudge to this writing by @cogflox

Northern Thanalan. Reaching the meeting point itself was a challenge. Serbius needed to talk to his superior contact on a semi-regular basis. But in order to get there and back safety he needed to avoid the Garleans, The Immortal Flames and any odd Ul’dahan guard on the way. The job assigned to him was first to watch over Priscilla bas Scaevola and eliminate her if her writing became a liability to the Empire. Due to the lower quantity of troops, caused in great part by the Riskbreakers efforts in the liberation of Alla Mhigo, Serbius work was doubled to watch over the Riskbreakers and report back their status and movements. This were jobs he performed with spectacular and deliberate mediocrity.

Becoming a double agent was a very dangerous endeavor. His true allegiance was with the Riskbreakers and his primary concern was Priscilla’s safety. To keep face with the Empire and keep the charade going as long as possible he needed to feed the Garleans some veridic information, especially when inconsequential, and travel a thin line between appearing useful and being a purposely incompetent spy. When delivering his reports, it helped him that the ‘main battalion’ was out in a campaign on the Far East and his superiors were already expecting uneventful and bland reports.

Serbius and his contact exchanged formal military greetings once they found each other on the cold of the Thanalan desert. After making sure they were not followed or watched, the two laid their backs against a stone wall and looked over the ceruleum mines, the ever-contested spot.

“Relax, soldier.” His superior said, procuring a pipe and lighting it. Serbius let his shoulder slouch and a forced sigh, he wanted out of this reunion as soon as possible. The man took a long drag of his pipe and gestured a hand at Serbius. They made a quick exchange, the pipe for the report. He began skimming over the report, pages and pages of drabble written by Serbius with nothing really useful. Serbius knew he would skip greater and greater portions the more things dragged on, a weakness he wanted to exploit. “Your job sure is boring Lentia. Specially with them all in Dalmasca.”

“I’m sure there will be more when they come back.” Serbius shrugged and considered taking a drag of the pipe in order to keep face.

“If.” His superior challenged him. Using his lighter to burn Serbius report once he finished going over it. “Word I hear the IVth have it covered. Maybe this will be your last few months here and they’ll assign your back to Kugane. Must be nice you bastard.” He gave a genuine chuckle to Serbius, who masked his worry by taking a forced dragged on the pipe and coughing it out. His superior handed him a report of his own. “Here’s what we do know. Twenty years of aan to end up dying a traitor.” Serbius took the documents and handed back the pipe.  “Makes sense why they went east, doesn’t it?”

The Document detailed two events, one in way more detail than the other. The first was a mark of treason for Malla dus Velius, notarius for the IVth legion’s 9th Bureau, allegedly aboard the Prima Vista. The other confirms a survival of a high-profile prisoner, sighted in Valnain. The rest on the individual was too classified to be included in the document. It’s mention prompted Serbius to think the two events might be connected.

That is when his hidden linkshell came to life with an open message. He pretended to read the document once more while he focused on trying to hear the Riskbreaker’s broadcast.

“Everyone -” A male voice came out a static, Alla Mhigan by the accent. “I don’t know who can listen, but our friends are in deep trouble.” No, no, no… His heart sank, the voice continued. “All available hands to the High Seraph! We are leaving for Dalmasca as soon as we can!”

Serbius was unable to respond, and based on his quick estimate, too far away to join. He wished to make a hasty retreat and go board the High Seraph, but he was already risking much in this rendezvous. If he was not careful to play his cards, the next report would contain his own name and put his new allegiance at risk.

“Everything alright?” His superior raised an eyebrow behind his helm.

“Hm? Yeah.” He lied, and gestured for a lighter. “Just… why tell us about this prisoner, so far away and everything is classified. Why bother, you know?” He grabbed the lighter as it was handed to him and lit the papers he had on hand. His superior shrugged, taking one more drag of his pipe. “Anything else? Should get going before the next Flames patrol.”

A minute or more of chit chat and the two exchanged salutes before parting ways. Serbius swiftly skulked his way south of the Ceruleum Plant. As soon as he felt himself clear of suspecting eyes, he walked faster and faster until he found himself full sprinting towards the Goblet. It should’ve been me, I should’ve gone. He repeated on his head over and over again. Rage flashed through him. He wanted to be mad at Ashelia, for putting Priscilla on danger’s way. Instead he recognized who were really putting her, putting them all in danger: The Empire.

Serbius arrived at the Sandsea to find it vacant as he rushed to the hangar. He was too late and felt powerless and useless in this situation. A note was next to a communicator, the same contents that were sent out to the linkshell. Serbius took a deep breath and grabbed a hold of the communicator. Hoping his own message was not too little too late:

“The Empire has flagged our contact, Malla dus Velius, for treason. Proceed with caution.”

[thinkofduty]

[ inquiry ]

Malla Velius: "...You said you were in the Ala Mhigan army."

Orella Steelhand winces slightly, but... she'd announced it, hadn't she? She's done with regrets, reminded by the sword she's stubbornly refused to give up aboard the airship, and she simply shrugs. "... Aye."

Orella Steelhand: "Theodoric's honour guard," she continues bluntly. "Kingsguard, one of the last few recruited."

Malla Velius: "I was city guard." Her voice contains none of the pride it did twenty years ago. "I, too, was recruited to the Kingsguard. I turned the position down."

Orella’s eyes grow wide with awe.

Malla Velius: For all her bluntness, Malla does not need to convey the state of things twenty years ago: one did not refuse an appointment from the king, or from Atkascha.

Orella Steelhand: "... No shit," Orella says slowly, and looks around the room. "Didn't get out in time, then."

Malla Velius: She looks away for the first time.

Malla Velius: "...On the contrary, I did. One of the many privileges of having a Riskbreaker in the family."

Malla Velius: "It was the Black Shroud. It turned me away. But it let Ashelia through."

Orella Steelhand frowns again. The scowl's pretty permanent on her face, these days.

Orella Steelhand: "So how'd you end up on the Vista?" and she holds up a hand, weary with herself. "Actually, don't answer that, I don't care. I didn't come for gossip. You were a guard? Good. You know what kind of information I need to track this bastard down."

Malla Velius: "I've written down everything I can remember." She stands and turns to sort through some of the papers on her desk: sewing patterns, memos, handwritten notes... and at last finds a single sheet with info on the traitor.

Sylvan Rain quietly comes into the room, albeit a bit later than Malla probably wanted. "Sorry about that."

Malla Velius nods briefly at Sylvan Rain in welcome.

Orella Steelhand nods in acknowledgement and says nothing to Sylvan, concentrating more on Malla for the moment.

Sylvan Rain: "Hm, so is it just the two of us on this mission after all?"

Malla Velius: "No. But you're the only two who have come to me for more information so far."

Orella Steelhand can't help but scoff a little at that.

Sylvan Rain: "Well, I do like to know what I'm dealing with." She says with a bit of a shrug

Malla Velius: "I do maintain that the other Roegadyn - the Gyr Abanian - would make a necessary addition. The Snowfly Forest makes the Black Shroud-" She glances at Orella somberly. "-look like a walk through a field. A survivalist will be crucial. But more on that later.'

Malla Velius: "Grissom is... young, for all intents and purposes. The younger of two brothers, both of whom joined the Dalmascan Resistance. They came from an old family - brought up in Dalmasca's religion, the Light of Kiltia."

Orella Steelhand leans against the wall as she listens to the information, eyes closed to better absorb the details.

Malla Velius: "I never met his brother. He was a mage, killed in the Barheim Incident." She waits for either woman to stop her for clarification.

Orella Steelhand: "What was the brother's name?" Orella asks, still with eyes closed.

Malla Velius: "Duane."

Orella Steelhand: "Did anyone else escape with him? Or is he working entirely alone?"

Malla Velius: "That is unknown." She refers back to her sheet. "But my intelligence from the 9th Bureau suggests that he has been planning this for quite some time."

Orella Steelhand glances at the paper, finally looking up again, and her scowl only deepens.

Sylvan Rain: Sylvan turns head head from side to side, extra effort put into that last twist in order to loosen her neck up. "Not that I don't care to hear all the details, but my true concerns lie in the opposition we'll be facing trying to capture him. You said you do now know who he's working with, but do you at least have an idea if he'll put up a fight?"

Malla Velius: "Given the extent to which he has planned for this, I would imagine he /will be ready to put up a fight. He is a swordsman - one of the Resistance's best - but there is no telling what he may have planned. And the fact that he stole auracite throws everything into question."

Sylvan Rain: "Can more than one be used at once?"

Malla Velius: "I would not know. I've seen one do enough damage to take countless lives."

Sylvan Rain: "In any case, it sounds disastrous.." The thought of such a destructive outcome hadn't crossed her mind in this situation.

Orella Steelhand nods at Malla's metal arm.

Orella Steelhand: "You said that was a gift from the auracite. By extension," she adds, remembering she'd clarified it was the Garleans proper. "What happened?"

Malla Velius: "A now defunct rebel group from Nagxia posed as informants. The stone one of them carried did not show up on a magitek scan." She speaks matter-of-factly; this incident is something she has spent an inordinate amount of time trying to get to the bottom of. "My partner - the primus frumentarius - was their target. I took the stone and saved his life. And my arm was lost in the explosion that ensued."

Orella Steelhand: "... Hm."

Sylvan Rain gazes upon Malla Velius in deep reflection.

Sylvan Rain: Though Sylvan has some interest in the power of the auracite she realizes this is probably a sensitive topic for Malla and refrains from inquiring further.

Malla Velius: "Do you have any other questions?"

Orella Steelhand sighs and rubs her hair out of her face.

Orella Steelhand: "You said he disappeared into the sewers. Are there maps? Do we have anything to go on, or are we chasing a living ghost?"

Malla Velius: "He's left the sewers by now. He'll be well on his way through the desert, and into the Snowfly Forest."

Sylvan Rain: "I am capable of sensing the aetheric presence of another. I can at least keep track of him, though I cannot guarantee how accurately."

Orella Steelhand nods to Sylvan. "Better than nothing. I'd rather have my eyes shut than be blind."

Malla Velius: "We also have a set of coordinates which he was following - though whether or not it served as his heading is, of course, unknown."

Orella Steelhand: "And those coordinates are...?"

Malla Velius beckons them over to her desk, and rolls out a map. She points to a location dead in the middle of where the forest is thickest.

Orella Steelhand sighs again. "Great."

Sylvan Rain leans over Malla's shoulder curiously, not that it takes much for someone of her size.

Sylvan Rain: "Well, at least I'll be able to sense what direction we need to be going in."

Malla Velius: "I have never set foot in the Snowfly Forest, myself. But I will say that many Dalmascans refuse to."

Orella Steelhand: "You said something about needing a survivalist..."

Malla Velius: "It's said to be haunted, or else cursed. People are known to have wandered there for days. I've no idea why Grissom would have chosen this place of all places to flee the Resistance."

Sylvan Rain: "It would certainly make a strange random choice. There has to be some significance.."

Sylvan Rain gazes upon Malla Velius in deep reflection.

Sylvan Rain: "Perhaps linked with the auracite?"

Orella Steelhand looks over her shoulder at Sylvan. "My money's on Garlean's living in the woods. That, or some big beast."

Malla Velius: "Either is certainly possible."

Malla Velius: "I'll do some more digging into the 9th Bureau's archives; perhaps there's a group stationed there that I've yet to learn about."

Orella Steelhand: "Do you know how many others will be joining us?"

Malla Velius: "Not yet. But I'll keep all of you equally informed."

Orella Steelhand nods again. "I don't think I need much else. Find the bastard no matter what, right?"

Malla Velius: "Right."

Sylvan Rain: "Not to be overconfident of my skills but I am confident that even with a small group we can get this done."

Sylvan Rain nods to Orella, who returns the gesture.

Orella Steelhand: "... Confidence is good."

And she turns to leave, with a "let me know," toward Malla, but stops a couple of paces from the door.

Orella Steelhand: "... One more question, Malla."

Malla Velius: "Yes?"

Orella Steelhand: "Why did you give Ashelia the auracite?"

Sylvan Rain hadn't thought of that. A very good question.

Malla Velius: "..."

Malla Velius: "Because if anyone will know what to do with it, it will be her."

Sylvan Rain: "Can't say she's wrong about that." At least from Sylvan's perspective.

Orella Steelhand: "... Hm." and Orella simply inclines her head. "We'll see. Theodoric wasn't so bad before the throne, Malla. Remember that."

Malla Velius: "I'm all too aware."

Malla Velius: "But the Empire was ever waiting for its chance. Was it not?"

Sylvan Rain looks between the two feeling the bit of tension.

Orella Steelhand doesn't have an answer for that, and takes her leave. She has other things to consider.

[onwesterlywinds]

PROMPT #9: Friable

Ingvald lifted the Treaty-Blade only once, after most of the others were shattered, and not to grant an end to any of the stones: he carried it from one side of the tailor's chambers to the other for Malla to wield. Malla had resolved to take care of the last remaining Zodiac Stone, that she could personally see to its end after all the time it had spent in her keeping. "Do the honors," she had called it wryly - though even with her sarcasm, nothing about their victory rang of honor.

It was a great irony to see Orella at rest, prompted as it was by her defeat at the hands of a Lucavi and a legatus in quick succession. Her arm would take some time to heal, and she might never wield a sword again, and still some small part of him wondered if perhaps, perhaps her (and, by extension, his) fighting days were finally at an end.

No - she would drag herself to her grave with a sword in hand, and he would follow close behind.

That was the only true duty he had ever known.

The hilt of the Treaty-Blade was made for someone with far larger hands than her own, especially since her left hand was not of flesh at all. He watched her heft it with the mechanical prosthesis and lean into its sturdy weight, only for a moment, before plunging it down to break the stone clean in two. It surged with aether as it expired, leaking the heady stench of power, and Malla's eyes widened in disgust; then whatever demon had existed within faded back into oblivion.

[onwesterlywinds]

It was a cruelty for Domitian to have died in the snow, Alma thought - so close and so far from the city he had loved all his life.

FEBHYURARY 6TH - SUNSHINE @febhyurary​

[onwesterlywinds]

We took the shuttle back to the Prima Vista from Ridorana, all of us speaking scarcely a single word. When at last we boarded, Alma greeted me with an embrace.

Weakened and shaking and starving beyond belief from the aftermath of Ultima's possession, I had expected no such welcome. I could not recall the suspicions the Seraph had whispered in my ear, nor the cruelties I had subjected her to as a result of my paranoia; but I knew, as she ran her fingers through my newly regrown hair, that she held none of it against me.

It was the first I'd ever experienced such forgiveness from family.

We delivered our intelligence to Jenomis as well. Only then did we used the sword to destroy the remaining stones in her safekeeping. Alma insisted on swinging the blade herself, with her one good arm. And then, they were gone - all twelve of the stones, and their demons, and all traces of their power.

I wanted for her to return with us. As we flew back into Hingan airspace, I made my preparations as if she were to follow us while we disembarked into Kugane, leaving room among my things for her surveillance materials. But it was not to be.

"I have to lie low," she said to me, whispered in our shared language as my father packed the remainder of his own bags behind her. "I will remain in Dalmasca for a time, away from the Resistance - at least until I can be certain that van Gabranth is not tracking me through unknown means."

I had been conscious for precious little of all that had transpired at Ridorana's highest point, and yet Nivelth had told me of the absence in the Majestic's ranks. That there had been a spy aboard the Prima Vista all along was no surprise; that it was not a long-lost loved one was nothing short of a blessing.

"The Riskbreakers will offer you aid as soon as you are ready to receive it," I promised.

And thus, for the first time at the end of one of the Riskbreakers' missions, I teleported back to Ala Mhigo - the better to swiftly bring home the news of our hardest-won victory yet.

[onwesterlywinds]

Ashelia Riot returns from the city outside. Ashelia Riot: I'm glad you aren't sleeping. Edge Marbrand is taking inventory when she arrives; he looks up at her and smiles when he hears her. Edge Marbrand takes her hand, twining his fingers with hers. Edge Marbrand: Of course not. Not while I'm waiting for you to come home. Ashelia Riot grasps his hand tighter, her smile widening. Ashelia Riot: I have nothing especially significant to report. I did manage to make it down into the Garamsythe Waterway again; it's still free of Garleans. Edge Marbrand kisses her, soft and chaste in a proper greeting, before nodding at her report. Edge Marbrand: Can't imagine they'd spend too long chasing sewer rats. They wouldn't want to get dirty, now would they? Ashelia Riot: Ha! I suppose you're right. No word from Alma? Edge Marbrand shakes his head. Edge Marbrand: Nothing, yet. Should we begin to worry? Ashelia Riot 's face falls for the first time; she seems lost in thought. Ashelia Riot: I don't know. Ashelia Riot leans in and wraps an arm around him. Edge Marbrand's brow creases. Edge Marbrand: Come on, let's relax instead of worrying.

Ashelia Riot stretches out on the couch, not minding about putting her feet up. Ashelia Riot: How are you holding up? Edge Marbrand: I miss the Riskbreakers, in truth. But otherwise... I'm glad to be here. Dalmasca is unlike anything I've ever seen before. Edge Marbrand: And... this nation needs our help. More so than Ala Mhigo and Doma right now. And that thought keeps me going. Ashelia Riot nods in response, her eyes closing; she mulls over the memories of their time in Rabanastre over past few weeks, especially those of the Dalmascan Resistance. Ashelia Riot: And I think our help is changing things. Even in small ways. Edge Marbrand: When do you think it'll be time to... bring in the reinforcements? Edge Marbrand grins at Ashelia Riot, who grins back. Ashelia Riot: That is... a very good question. Though I was hoping we wouldn't have to unless something... exceptional happened. Ashelia Riot: I know I said I wouldn't keep beating myself up for this, but I wouldn't want a repeat of the last time I dragged the company out to Dalmasca. Edge Marbrand shakes his head. Edge Marbrand: No matter what happened, you prevented a far worse outcome. Ashelia Riot takes a deep breath and nods. Ashelia Riot: You're right, of course. Ashelia Riot removes from her voluminous pants a small notebook; she flips through to the most recent page, where she's written, in her nearly illegible scrawl, a series of memories: pieces of ancient Dalmascan history she can still glean from her memories of the High Seraph's possession. Ashelia Riot: ...I did get some writing done today. Edge Marbrand sneaks a glance to one of the shelves, upon which sits the writings of an author less popularly known as Priscilla Scaevola. Edge Marbrand: Have you, now? That's good! Ashelia Riot: There was... Ashelia Riot has to check her notes. Ashelia Riot: There was a woman. I couldn't make out her face, but she was a dancer. Edge Marbrand: You saw her? Back then? Ashelia Riot: Yes. Back from... thousands of years ago. And it might have been my imagination, but something about her presence seemed familiar. She danced underneath the city. She danced and danced and danced like the city itself depended on it. Edge Marbrand is lost in thought. Edge Marbrand: What did she look like? Ashelia Riot: Long, dark hair. Lean limbs clad in golden robes. And... and a tattoo all down her back. Ashelia Riot looks momentarily surprised; she hadn't remembered that last detail until she had spoken it out loud. She adds that note to the page. Edge Marbrand scratches his chin thoughtfully. Edge Marbrand: Hm... Sounds like… Sounds like you saw her nude. Golden robes, my ass. Sounds like a good vision! Edge Marbrand laughs. Ashelia Riot: I wish I had seen her nude! Ashelia Riot grins tauntingly at Edge Marbrand. Edge Marbrand: Well, at any rate... I wonder if she previously held the stone. Ages ago. Ashelia Riot's eyes go wide. Ashelia Riot: Now there's an idea... Edge Marbrand: Which means you deprived some lucky bastard of seeing you dancing around naked one day, ages from now. Ah, well. Ashelia Riot gives Edge Marbrand a teasing shove. Ashelia Riot: I don't think that's how it works! Edge Marbrand is only cracking jokes to make her feel better about the whole thing, and knows she would probably see right through his attempt; he chuckles and shrugs in response. Edge Marbrand: Who knows? Maybe she was important to the last person who possessed the Virgo stone. Hard to say either way. Ashelia Riot doesn't remove her hand from his shoulder. Ashelia Riot: True, true. But it feels good to know that I'm a step closer to sorting out these visions. Edge Marbrand's brow furrows with concern. Edge Marbrand: And you're still having them? Often? Ashelia Riot: Mercifully, no. Only the ones I still remember from Ultima. Even my dreams from my father have been quiet. Mundane. Edge Marbrand: Well, we could all use some respite from all the excitement for once. Ashelia Riot: Gods. Couldn't we ever. Ashelia Riot: What about you? How are the Cluster faring? I feel it's been a while since I've asked. Edge Marbrand leans back, letting out a relaxed sigh. Edge Marbrand: There isn't much happening with them, either. Hard to sense everybody, we're all so far from each other. But I suspect I'd know if something bad happened to any of them. Yue is closest. She's helping out the Domans in my stead. But the others? I don't even know anymore. Ashelia Riot: I'm glad Yue's volunteered. Ashelia Riot wishes she had someone who could help her handle things in Ala Mhigo. Ashelia Riot: From what I gather, Bull has been holding down the fort back at home. Edge Marbrand: I was just about to ask. Glad to hear. Edge Marbrand: How fares Ala Mhigo? Ashelia Riot lets out a single nervous laugh. Ashelia Riot: I... haven't any idea. But presumably the Garleans haven't blown anything up. Ashelia Riot: ...I'm a horrible politician. Edge Marbrand shifts uncomfortably. Edge Marbrand: Well I really hope they haven't. And I disagree! Who's saying that? I'll show them how I do politics! Ashelia Riot giggles. Ashelia Riot: Only half the Undercity. So really, there's no news there. Edge Marbrand: Did your father take over your work there? Ashelia Riot: My dreams tell me no. He's been keeping an eye on the house, but he hasn't so much as spared a glance at the Undercity. Edge Marbrand: A shame. I hope all your work done there wasn't for naught. Ashelia Riot nods, not wanting to contemplate the possibility. Edge Marbrand: If only someone in the Cluster was equipped to handle that... I could send them there... but none of them really come to mind as a good fit. Ashelia Riot waits through that comfortable silence for several moments. Ashelia Riot: ...How about this, then: I'll give it another week. I'll do my best to make whatever inroads I can with Lente's Tears and the rest of the Resistance. And then I'll go home for a little. Edge Marbrand: Do you want to know what I think? Truthfully? Ashelia Riot: Of course. Always. Edge Marbrand: You are spreading yourself far too thin. You cannot be in Ala Mhigo, or Dalmasca, or the Sandsea all at once. And if you keep trying to be in all three of those places you won't accomplish anything in any of them. Ashelia Riot opens her mouth, as if to give some sharp retort... then finds she has no retort to give. Ashelia Riot: ...You're right, of course. Ashelia Riot leans her head against his shoulder. Edge Marbrand: Gods, I wish we did have the ability to be everywhere at once. I want to help here, and back home, and in Doma. Ashelia Riot: And it never does feel right to leave one of them behind. Edge Marbrand nods. Edge Marbrand: You need to pick a cause. And commit to it. Edge Marbrand: If we go home now to check on Ala Mhigo and the Undercity we may lose all of what we've worked for here with Lente's Tears. Ashelia Riot: And if we remain here... I'm as good as handing in my resignation to the council. Edge Marbrand: I *could* stay here while you go check on things, but... bah. They wouldn't listen to me. Yours is the face others rally to. Edge Marbrand: Whatever you choose to do, I'll be with you every step of the way. Ashelia Riot: You're too modest. You've done enough to be recognized in your own right. Ashelia Riot sighs again but gives a firm, resolute nod. Edge Marbrand scoffs. Edge Marbrand: Well I hope not. That defeats the whole point of reconnaissance, doesn't it? Ashelia Riot: Rather, your work speaks for itself. And if they can't recognize your contributions, then... Ashelia Riot doesn't want to say that they don't understand the work it takes for a revolution to succeed. Edge Marbrand disagrees. Edge Marbrand: They do, I'm sure. But I am content with being your shadow. Ashelia Riot kisses him for good measure. Ashelia Riot: Just... thank you. You know I've never once taken it for granted, but... especially not now. Edge Marbrand smiles and kisses her back. Edge Marbrand: I know. Ashelia Riot: ...I know this all affects when we'll be able to truly settle down. Have children. I don't take that for granted, either. Edge Marbrand's expression is warm as he kisses the top of her head. Edge Marbrand: I know. Now is not the time for it, and that's okay. Ashelia Riot melts into the touch, humming softly as she smiles. Ashelia Riot: ...I'll make a choice, love. By the end of the week. Edge Marbrand: And as I said, whichever your choice may be, I will follow down that road as well. Ashelia Riot lets her notebook fall to the floor for a moment; she does not reach to pick it up, as she's too busy looking at him. Just as a smile crosses her face, her private linkpearl - the one she modded from a Garlean device years ago - gives an audible buzz. Ashelia Riot: Do you think it's... Edge Marbrand gestures for her to put in on hurriedly. Ashelia Riot cups it in her hands so they can both hear the incoming message. Malla Velius: Ashelia. I'm safe. But I won't be coming back. Malla Velius: I have the latest from the 9th Bureau. Stay where you are so you can receive it. Ashelia Riot knows better than to interrupt and ask her to explain, but she isn't sure what else to say or do. Ashelia Riot: Understood. Edge Marbrand frowns with worry, but says nothing to interrupt. Malla Velius: The bastard's caught onto my signal. I'll have to destroy this linkpearl as soon as my next data upload goes through. I'll make contact as soon as I'm able. Ashelia Riot: ...Be safe. Ashelia Riot cannot help but think that the words feel so hollow as they leave her. Ashelia Riot: Godsspeed. The connection ends, and a data upload begins. It's a series of audio logs, cached in some empty case files. Ashelia Riot: ...Shite. Edge Marbrand: She's safe. She said so. Ashelia Riot swallows hard. Ashelia Riot: ...And she's survived worse odds. Edge Marbrand nods. Ashelia Riot: Shall we see what she's left us with? Edge Marbrand: Yes, let's. It's a transmission only a few hours old, detailing a captain's account of Legatus Noah van Gabranth's most recent orders: leaving Dalmasca for Bozja. Edge Marbrand: Bozja? The city decimated years ago? Edge Marbrand: Why there? Ashelia Riot frowns. Ashelia Riot: I've no idea. Gods, this is... Ashelia Riot doesn't want to think of this as the perfect opportunity: to rally Dalmasca, to get back at van Gabranth. She knows where that thought has taken her before. Edge Marbrand: Should we wait for your aunt? Ashelia Riot: I don't know if we have that luxury. Edge Marbrand frowns. Ashelia Riot sighs heavily. Ashelia Riot: I think… I think it’s time to bring in the reinforcements.

[onwesterlywinds]

The Impure

I have often wondered what would have become of things if we had simply defected following your operation. We would have earned some measure of freedom - a paranoid freedom, one forever on the run, but freedom nonetheless - yet so too would we have lost all that ever made us useful to Dalmascan liberation. For all the good that this idle writing will do to erase the past, the possibility haunts me more than almost any other.

Malla Velius removed Domitian's bifocals from her face, rendering the words within his diary invisible once more. She saved those words most often for the days when she needed to recall them - and though by now she had them nearly memorized, she had nevertheless needed to see them written. Some days she read words written in his hand and could hear his voice reading them aloud, and that was enough to bring her some measure of comfort.

A noise came from the corner of the room as Alaq'it Moks, who was meant to be sleeping, jostled the wooden partition that gave privacy to her bed. Though the young woman was doubtless in need of more sleep, she would not be the one to order her back to bed. "I didn't know you were awake."

"Do people normally sleep through all that sighing?"

A fair point, perhaps. "Usually it's only me in here."

Alaq'it looked away, rubbing the arm that had made contact with the partition. She glanced to the door which Akhutai had left through several hours before - through which they had once again gone through the extent of their gathered intelligence. "He says he is fine. Did he seem fine to you?"

Malla had sensed behind Akhutai Urit a great unquiet, and an even deeper sadness; she had assumed, however, that this was the man's default state. "I'm afraid I don't know him well enough to tell," she replied, "nor enough to gauge how the stress of the expedition could be affecting him."

"Did he find the stones in those woods? Grissom. Has he said?"

The sudden change in topic rattled her not at all. "I believe he found them all over Dalmasca."

"'Our informant has spent too long with the stones in his possession,"" Alaq'it quoted.

Malla narrowed her eyes: she had not been expecting that Alaq'it would have been awake for the entirety of her conversations with Akhutai, let alone that she had memorized word for word the report on Grissom's mental health.

Alaq'it shook her head, as though piecing together the words she had spoken aloud. "I still do not understand why he would leave three in a sewer."

"Presumably for someone else to find. Or perhaps for some other purpose. Given his current state, it is unlikely we will know."

"His current... state?" Alaq'it squinted blearily at Malla - first in apparent confusion, then against the light of the oncoming sunrise.

And Malla paused, unsure of how to proceed with the information that Alaq'it knew all there was to know of the forest, except for the condition of the man who had been dragged from it. She spoke slowly, matter-of-factly. "He has been corrupted by the auracite. His body is half metal. He's missing vital organs. He should not be alive in his current state."

Alaq'it blinked incredulously. "Is it because he had many? Or would just one do such a thing with enough time?"

"We simply don't know," Malla replied. "Both, perhaps - and the effects of overexposure may vary based on the individual."

During the silence that followed, Alaq'it shut her eyes tight. She brought a hand up to her face, then brought it back down. Through all this, her breathing intensified into a panic as sure as any Malla had ever witnessed, and she clasped her hands tightly to her face. Malla stood from her desk's stool but did not make to approach-

And Alaq'it was on her feet, pointing. "YOU, YOU STAY!"

Malla froze, holding up both her hands in the universal gesture of surrender. The sleeve covering her prosthesis slipped, and she did not move to conceal it again.

All the while, Alaq'it silently went through the motions of some sort of healing spell she could not identify. When at last she was done, she turned back to Malla, raising an eyebrow. "You are... well-armed, then. Dusk Mother's breath, you are truly related." Then, as if to herself - "You are both odd." She sat back down upon the bed.

"How are you feeling?" The question was purposefully vague, open-ended - a hopeful means to a dialogue.

Alaq'it waved her hand impatiently. "I have felt worse." She paused. "Truly, at points it has been worse."

"I can imagine so." Without an idea of what else there was to be said, she asked, "May I sit beside you?"

Alaq'it nodded, pointing to the opposite side of the bed, and Malla accepted the gesture. She did her best to make no sudden moves. "I take it, you didn't sleep well."

"...I would not say I did. I could not, much. So I listened. It was no fault of the two of you, though."

"It's worrisome, I will not lie," Malla began. She was struck then by the youth of the Auri woman the longer she remained in her presence - and though she had never known much of how to comfort, she felt obligated to try. "But I have faith in the Grand Steward to see things through, one way or ano-"

Alaq'it motioned to Malla's prosthesis. "Did a stone do that?"

"...Yes," she replied. "Not any of the stones here, I should add - but one of equal power."

"What were you trying to do with it?"

Malla shook her head. "Not I. It was used against me." Her mouth went dry at the memory, but she continued speaking. It was easier to do so, now that she had divulged the secret to Priscilla. "Nagxian rebels gained entry into a XIIth Legion interrogation chamber, where... someone dear to me was speaking with them. In good faith. One of the rebels used the auracite. I dove in front of the stone to keep its blast from reaching my partner. And I lost my arm as a result."

"Nagxia?" Alaq'it's head turned to view her in full. "Rebel?"

"Yes. It was many years ago now; the Garleans put down that insurgence group long ago."

Alaq'it stared hard at her, then squinted - not at her face, but somewhere above her eyes. Perhaps she sought a third eye. "...They call it... conscript. When they make people who are not Garleans fight. When people do not have a choice." She sounded as though she were talking herself through the concept as much as asking a question.

"That's right. I was kidnapped - and then I was conscripted."

At once, the air seemed to vanish from the room. Slowly, ever so slowly, Alaq'it rose to her feet and turned toward the bed - and all the while, she let out an incredulous, strangled laugh.

"Alaq'it."

"Kidnapped to kidnap. Did each fight move you closer to freedom? Each excruciation ecstasy?" Upon her face lay an almost imperceptible sneer as she shuffled backward. "How much did they offer for me?"

She kept her face impassive. She forced herself into an unyielding composure, one born of the last twenty years of Garlean indignity. When she spoke, her voice wavered not at all. "I don't understand. Explain to me what you mean."

The words came wholesale from Domitian, who had always seen success in feigning ignorance.

"No," said Alaq'it. "No, I will give you no more, I think. No more time. I should have left when he did. But I kept the advantage, I kept the door, I will keep your secret but you will keep me no more."

Before Malla could move to bar her exit, Alaq'it raced with a speed that should have been impossible, fleeing through the door and out into the hallway.

"Alaq'it!"

Malla scrambled after her, but by the time she reached the open door some few seconds later, Alaq'it had utterly vanished.

"By all that's-"

"Malla!"

Another voice - a man's - echoed from the other end of the corridor, and Ingvald Bloodhound came running to greet her.

"Ingvald, have you seen Alaq-"

He shook his head but said not a word, pushing past her to enter into her room. Whatever he had to say, then, was confidential - and urgent.

She let out her frustration and anxiety in a single, seething breath, knowing that the span of ten seconds had been all it had taken for Alaq'it to escape. She closed and locked the door behind her and turned to face Ingvald.

"Three Garleans attempted to board the ship." He said the words in the Ala Mhigan tongue - perhaps to further avoid unwanted listeners. "And Grissom is dead."

[onwesterlywinds]

Across the Land and Over the Sea

It was well past three in the morning in the middle of the Majestic's tech week, and yet Malla Velius couldn't find it in herself to sleep. She had lain awake atop her covers, no longer accustomed to being alone in her cramped cell of a dormitory, her open eyes cursing each wheeling star in the night sky.

At last she heaved herself up out of bed. She was caught up on costume repairs for the first time in moons. She had memorized Fran's latest report. There remained no tasks save for the most important task of all.

She lit her lantern, sat at her desk, and opened Domitian's journal. So many times had she thumbed through its pages that she knew the contents of each page even before reaching for the bifocals that revealed the invisible ink in which he had written his private communications. She preferred not to use the glasses if necessary, as they had always fit a little awkwardly upon her face: their bridge had been made for a straight Garlean nose, not a flat, wide Ala Mhigan one. Despite the option of having them resized, she'd chosen instead to preserve the glasses as a memento. Too often, the thought of altering anything that had been Domitian's seemed something close to sacrilege.

And yet she removed from a drawer a special bottle of ink, shook it some, and turned the journal to a fresh page to scrawl a new sentence.

This mission should have been yours, my friend.

The words disappeared within seconds.

And what else was there to say? What else could encompass the weight of her journey so far - the reunions, the change, the abject fear of things to come?

From her right elbow, a linkpearl began to ring.

It could only be Ashelia's, left there earlier in the day to prevent the other Riskbreakers from seeking her out aboard the ship. Whatever it was that had taken her - and Malla had a great suspicion on that front - Ashelia's avoidance suggested some measure of guilt for her behavior. And if guilt alone tethered her to her loved ones, Malla had reasoned over and over while failing to fall asleep, then it could be worth something.

Malla took up the tiny device, cupped it in the palm of her hand, and answered the call. "Yes?"

"...Alma?"

The voice came through much more clearly than she had been expecting, as though unlimited by the constraints of mere technology. It was a voice she had last heard twenty years ago, screaming that very name while the Black Shroud closed itself off to her.

"Tia."

"She left a note. Ashelia left a note saying that you had been found."

How strange to think of herself as having been lost - and yet neither could she deny that the Empire had swallowed her into obscurity. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I... I'm alive. Where are you?"

"Back at the Sandsea." And she could hear now the weariness in her sister's voice, deeper and harder than it had been during her youth. "In the airship hangar. I meant to reach Ashelia; her note said-"

"Tia-" Her chest heaved with sobs, and almost at once two hot tears fell from her eyes to mar the empty page of Domitian's journal. "I've made a mistake. A horrible mistake."

"We all have, Alma."

She shook her head, forgetting that Tia would not be able to observe the motion. "No. No, I gave Ashelia a zodiac stone, and... she's in danger. I fear the stone's possessing her."

Tia took in a deep, audible breath and was silent for a moment. "Where is Ashley?"

"Is this line secure?"

"It has the strongest firewall of any of the Riskbreakers' communications."

"He's here, aboard the Prima Vista."

"If it's indeed a zodiac stone, and one of those Lucavi demons possessing her, like in the stories-"

"I believe it is."

"-then he'll be useless. You remember the Undercity."

It was not a question, because yes, Malla did remember the Undercity. She remembered Marco explaining in his own words all that had taken place with a would-be villain, on a sunny day at the Lochs when Ashley had gone into a panic at the memory of a demon known from Dalmascan folklore as Zalera.

"This is well beyond what Ashley can handle, Alma - meaning it's up to you to put things to rights."

"The other Riskbreakers, eight of them have stones. Some have fared well enough, but some have gone-" And she paused, unable to remember the word she might have said were she speaking in Ala Mhigan. "It's my fault, Tia, all of it. I meant to protect them by keeping them at arm's length, in case the legatus found me again. But I can't do this. I could barely save myself for twenty years, and I couldn't save Domi-"

"Later, Alma." Tia's voice, once so gentle even for reprimands, rang harsh over the linkpearl. "There has to be some way to break the possession. Get Ashelia through this. Get all of them through this, and yourself - and then you'll have all the time in the world for regret. Do you understand me?"

Again her tears overwhelmed her, and it took several seconds of wordless blubbering before she could respond in full. "Yes. Thank you, Tia."

"Thank me when we're hand-in-hand again. Now go do what you must."

With that, the line went dead, and Malla Velius was alone once more.

[onwesterlywinds]

Hunger

Throughout the years, hunger had often been Ashelia Riot's greatest motivators. It focused her thoughts to the necessary, gave her a mundane and even morbid sort of clarity. It had been so since her days in Little Ala Mhigo, when hunger represented an acute and urgent need - a reminder of things yet unaccomplished.

But this was not one of those times. She went to the Prima Vista's canteen and took for herself as many finger sandwiches as she could reliably fit in one hand, eliciting stares from the cast and crew. Since last she had eaten, she had taken part in the excursion into Rabanastre, the encounter with the being apparently called Mateus, being holed up in Domitian's apartment, and the subsequent return from the city. And she had not slept even a minute since the previous afternoon.

"Ashelia?"

The voice was Malla's, brisk and curt and utterly official.

"Yes?"

"Come with me, if you would."

The nearby thespians burst into tittering laughter as she departed, four small sandwiches in hand. They were such that she managed to scarf them down, if somewhat inelegantly, while Malla took her back to her private chambers on the other side of the airship. She said not a word, which meant that the topic at hand could only be a grave one.

"We need to speak," Malla said at last, perhaps unnecessarily, once she'd closed the door behind her. She flipped a switch on one of the devices in the corner, and it began to spin thread without so much as a single touch of guidance; the noise obliterated the need for them to keep their voices down. "Alma made it into the infirmary."

"She did. And Ivaan refused her entry."

"You made her empty her pockets? You suspected her of having a knife?"

"Not I; Nivelth, our summoner."

"The one who picked up the stone in Rabanastre."

"If you have something to say, Aunt Alma-"

"And the head of your Vanguard division, Crimson Bull-"

"-you can tell me directly, because I'm tired of the-"

"-he was insensitive and reckless with his stone, to the degree that the rest of the Riskbreakers questioned his state of mind after he departed. Ashelia, your people cannot continue to-"

"'My people'?" For whatever reason, this terminology, more than the implications as to Nive's and Bull's states, drew umbrage.

"Your company," Malla amended, "cannot continue to disregard the fact that they are guests aboard this ship. Alma bas Lexentale is one of the kindest young women I have ever met. For her to be accused of wishing to inflict harm upon Grissom, aboard her father's own vessel, is unacceptable. I will leave baseless speculations as to the auracite's effects out of this discussion until we have proven data to support our claims; that said, if you and yours are unable to abide by these terms of hospitality, I will be happy to find you other means of safe passage."

Ashe did not often grow defensive at perceived slights to her leadership. As Grand Steward, she had learned long ago to untangle emotion from grievances; as an Ala Mhigan woman, she had been forced to separate criticism from the one giving it. And yet Malla's words struck her with a sense of injustice on a scale that she could not rightly grapple with, least of all in the woman's own room with the tools of her family trade running in the foreground.

"I thank you for your candor," she replied. There was no other means of safe passage to and from Dalmasca, not without relying on imperial elements or impersonating Garlean soldiers - a feat she had sworn long ago never to do. If there was a line to be walked, she would walk it. "Rest assured that the Riskbreakers will continue to do our jobs. Without distractions."

Yet she gave no mention to the stones, as Malla had. She gave a final nod of acknowledgement and departed to some other, quieter location aboard the ship, her gut still racked with hunger pains.

[onwesterlywinds]

Under the Stars

They had gone for a walk along the outside ramparts, at the top of the airship's amphitheater. They had only a few more bells before their scheduled departure to Dalmasca, but Ashe had yet to explore this part of the ship - and after spending nearly a full day cooped up indoors, she had needed the air. They had drifted somewhat from the Kugane horizon, and a cloudless sky full of stars hung over the sea. The breathtaking sight might have reminded her of being back in Eorzea, had the constellations not been unfamiliar.

"So you married Gerald," said Malla. Her smile, one of the first Ashe had seen from her, bore no hint of teasing. "Do you remember-"

"What I said to Boris as a little girl? I do." She sighed. "Boris was killed shortly after they settled in Ul'dah."

Malla frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"He fell in with Monetarists, started owing money, and tried to gamble his way out. But Mondeberta's done well for herself - she's a guild alchemist."

"And your parents-"

"I'm sorry, Alma. I don't want to speak of them now."

The words had come out harsher than she'd intended, but aside from a brief furrowing of her brow, Malla showed little affront. The expression softened after no more than a moment. "I understand." She held off only for a moment; the night wind blew back her hood to reveal her severe face. "Gods know we have a host of other things to focus on. Which reminds me - if you're surveying in Rabanastre, you'll need new gear."

She cursed; somehow, in all of the preparations, she had forgotten that she would not be traipsing through the desert in her long black leather coat. Some days it truly struck her how far removed she was from the Corpse Brigade lieutenant she had been not so very long ago.

"I have a jacket that should fit you," Malla continued. "It's Dalmascan - so it's made for the sun and sand, and it should attract less suspicion."

"Thank you."

"As far as the survey goes, I would appreciate any detailed notes you can take. There's been limited intel from the 9th in recent weeks, and-"

Malla cut off the rest of her own sentence with a quiet clearing of her throat. Sure enough, there came from behind them a set of footsteps, and a harsh voiced called out.

"What are you doing out here?"

Malla slowly rolled her eyes before turning to acknowledge the speaker - a teenage boy whose only detail out of place was a single lock of unruly blond hair. He glared at them both, one hand on his hip; though his expression might have been more intimidating if he were several fulms taller.

"You must be Ramza," said Ashe. She had met with the boy's father for much of that morning, and she had heard mention of him enough throughout the ship. Every snide comment now made some sort of sense. "Ashelia Riot, Grand Steward of the-"

"The Riskbreakers, yes. A pity I don't care."

Ashe had met many youths throughout her life with varying understanding and empathy for the Riskbreakers, yet this was her first known encounter with an Ilsabardian boy. Before she could retort, however, Ramza again addressed Malla. "It's time to go belowdecks; we're due for departure soon. You know the rules."

"That I do," Malla replied. "Apologies to the crew. We'll return shortly."

Again she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from lashing out at the injustice of her aunt speaking with such deference to a Garlean shitestain, but neither would she jeopardize the company's budding alliance with Jenomis cen Lexentale.

Before Ramza could strut off in full, he said, "Oh, and you've another visitor - some man in leather. Go find him; he's scowling at the crew and Alma looks like she's seen a ghost."

[onwesterlywinds]

Akhutai Urit: Anything that looks interesting to start with? Malla Velius: In my line of work, I would start with whatever was biggest. Less chance of losing stamina later on. Malla Velius passes Akhutai Urit what looks to be one of the bigger notebooks Orella Steelhand and Sylvan Rain found in the Snowfly Forest. Akhutai Urit: As good a strategy as any. Akhutai Urit leans back in the chair before flipping the book open, and his eyes narrow in concentration as he drags a finger slowly down the page. Akhutai Urit: ...How familiar are you with the Snowfly Forest? Because I can't say I am. Malla Velius: I've heard only a little - which is that Dalmascans think it haunted. Few who enter ever return. That sort of thing. But I know that it deeply unnerved even Sylvan Rain, for whatever that's worth. Akhutai Urit: Mm... one of those, I see. Akhutai Urit moves to flip to the next page. Akhutai Urit: Was only asking bec- Akhutai Urit's brow furrows before he flips back to the first page; after a few back and forth page turns, he decides to flip to the next page entirely. Akhutai Urit: ...Well that's certainly curious.

Akhutai Urit looks up at Malla Velius after a few more page turns. Akhutai Urit: I'm not exactly sure what this journal is documenting unless that forest is truly that odd. Malla Velius frowns. Malla Velius: What do you mean? Akhutai Urit turns the journal around so she can have a better look and holds it up to her. He flips back to the first page and points at one of the listed locations. Akhutai Urit: You see, I would assume these numbers represent coordinates. Probably for the location listed here. Akhutai Urit flips the page. Akhutai Urit: ...But as you can see, here we have the same location, but a different set of coordinates. ...And it goes on like this. Malla Velius' frown deepens. Malla Velius: The forest itself... changes. Well, that would certainly lend sense to what the teams who went after Grissom found. Alternatively, whatever aether exists in that area was simply causing errors for the magitek scanners. Malla Velius: I suppose it would be out of the question to go in for another survey with aetherometers. Akhutai Urit returns to flipping through the notebook. Akhutai Urit: Whatever it is, the forest or the aether, they were certainly determined to document it. Not that I understand how useful hundreds of coordinates are for the same few places. But certainly, yes, any who would return there should definitely have at least two aetherometers. ...Probably preferably more. Test readings against one another. Malla Velius examines the sheet again. Malla Velius: Though a control in a case such as this would be unlikely. Akhutai Urit: Certainly. Thus we can only see if we get similar readings at all through multiple aetherometers. Though something tells me that I doubt we will. Malla Velius: Still. ...Is it wrong of me to feel a bit /comforted/ by a validation from Garlean technology? Akhutai Urit clicks his tongue as he closes the notebook. Akhutai Urit: No. Despite what can be said, Garlean technology as a whole is still impressive and fairly accurate in regards to such things. Malla Velius nods somewhat, though she's a bit distracted too. Malla Velius: ...This report is useless. Akhutai Urit: Which? Malla Velius has skimmed through to the end of another journal; she flips through, demonstrating a section that's entirely about a certain kind of ivy: the color of its leaves, the thickness of its vine, and the manner in which it grasps to the plants around it. Akhutai Urit: ...That's... ah... Are Garleans known for their practice in botany...? Malla Velius shakes her head. Malla Velius: Ilsabard is a wasteland. Akhutai Urit: ...Right. Akhutai Urit puts the large notebook to the side and reaches for another. Akhutai Urit: ...Well, I suppose if we, ah... ever find a need for that ivy we'll already know all there is to know... Akhutai Urit: Heartening. Malla Velius admittedly isn't quite certain what to do with the journals; she wonders if it would be possible to return the books to their families somehow, if they have families at all, but there's no identifying information on the books save for call numbers. Akhutai Urit, meanwhile, continues skimming through his notebook, perhaps hoping for anything legible. Akhutai Urit: ...If you were wondering, blood is a terrible replacement for ink unless already treated for such a thing. Or you have... other tools that can make use of it. Malla Velius: I'm sorry? Akhutai Urit: Oh, you know... Akhutai Urit holds up the notebook to show a page of... perhaps it may have once said something, but one could only really see what looked like smears of dried blood that had soaked in. Akhutai Urit: ...Not at all worrying. Malla Velius: ...Madness, then. At least, it seems to be a probable option. Akhutai Urit: Perhaps if we do more surveys of the forest we should... limit the time within. Malla Velius: I would agree. I'll make a note of it for Ashelia. Akhutai Urit nods and closes the notebook. Akhutai Urit: You think we'll find anything of use? Malla Velius: I certainly hope so. Otherwise we'll have nothing to go on except for Grissom's word. And even if he sings for us... he's still a traitor. Akhutai Urit: So far it's looking like the only information we'll have to go on is going to be from a traitor or from... a group of soldiers going mad. ...I would say it could be worse but I'm sure it could be. Malla Velius: Those words only invite trouble, if you ask me. Malla Velius: ...Wait a moment. Malla Velius stops as she flips over to another page. Malla Velius: This part's written in Corvosi. I believe I know who wrote this; there's a woman in the 9th Bureau who hailed from Corvos. Akhutai Urit: Anything of note? Malla Velius scans through it, then grabs from the massive pile of books a Corvosi dictionary; it's been years since she learned to read the language, and to this day she can't properly speak it, but she knows enough of the sentence structure to piece together written sentences. Akhutai Urit puts the disconcerting book to the side and watches Malla, knowing nothing of the language himself. Malla Velius: "The legatus must have planned this. Our informant has spent too long with the stones in his possession. He is growing paranoid. We are all growing paranoid. Even the Ilsabardians can sense the magnitude of the power stirring here. Why else would he send us here, if not to die?" Malla Velius: ...Her last words. Akhutai Urit: ...So I'm guessing by 'informant', she speaks of Grissom? And, if so, will he actually be able to tell us anything? Malla Velius: He may. But who can say for sure. Akhutai Urit: Maybe we'll get something useful out of him but not only is he a traitor, he spent time with the others and, well... Akhutai Urit gestures at what they've looked through so far. Akhutai Urit: ...I suppose we'll just take anything he says with a grain of salt. Perhaps keep what he says in mind, if he says anything, while assuming we know very little. Akhutai Urit: If anything. Malla Velius: If anything. Malla Velius wants to ask him about the stone but senses that that would be a sore point for the time being. Akhutai Urit is being a lot less forthcoming with his stone worries than he probably should be. Malla Velius: And how are you holding up? After the Barheim Passage. Akhutai Urit shrugs. Akhutai Urit: I think I'm fine. It's the others I'm more worried about. While I can't say for certain, I've potentially more experiences in... in unusual circumstances than a majority of them. I fear for how they'll hold up throughout... all of this. Malla Velius: As do I. Malla Velius is starting to wonder more and more if she made a mistake in giving Ashelia Riot the first stone. Malla Velius: But I'll keep an eye on Alaq'it, as well as all of the others. Is she a relative of yours? Akhutai Urit: I would appreciate it. And she isn't, no. But it's easy to gain an attachement with someone who holds your homeland in common. Malla Velius smiles in understanding. Malla Velius: Thank you. I imagine I'll be able to go through what's left of this tonight. You should get some rest while you're able. Akhutai Urit smirks. Akhutai Urit: Ah. Rest. I suppose. And I tell this to Ashelia all the time but don't work yourself too hard. We'll have continued need of your involvement and it won't do to have you exhausted. Akhutai Urit clicks his tongue as he stands. Akhutai Urit: After all, time waits for no one.

[onwesterlywinds]

During Orella's absences, Ingvald found himself retreating to the Prima Vista's navigation deck more often than not. He harbored no love for engineering and even less for magitek; being surrounded by imperial machinery had always unnerved him, and nowhere was it more evident that they were aboard a world-class Garlean vessel than in the ship's control center. Yet only there could he find some semblance of quiet, especially from the shrieking and singing and whatever other miniature dramas transpired throughout the rest of the theater ship. It was also, more than he cared to admit, military enough for him to bask in the rigor of their routine. Even if their rigor was Garlean in nature.

His first observations of Alma Malheur - now Malla Velius - was that she carried herself like her sister. Ingvald had never known Tia during her addiction and the sickness that came of it, but her wanderings thereafter had left her with a deliberately rigid sort of posture, as if she had to remind herself with each passing second to hold her head high. At times Malla's façade crumbled and her shoulders stooped, or else she shrunk away to defer to some passerby. And yet so too could he see that Tia had spoken the truth during their desert wanderings: Ashelia bore a far greater resemblance to her aunt than to her mother.

Their first true meeting took place on one of his midday retreats to the navigation deck, where Malla had also holed herself up with a large book in one hand and a quill in the other. He could not imagine how she was absorbing any of her reading, as she glanced up often at the massive screen depicting the surroundings beyond the ship's coordinates every few seconds as if to monitor any changes in real time. Then Malla turned her head to take in a different monitor, and their eyes met.

"Ingvald," he said simply by way of introduction. "I'm a friend of your sister."

Malla managed to pilfer from the ship's kitchen a loaf of fresh bread and a wine bottle full of water. They ate together in her chambers; she moved aside a pile of books to accommodate their plates, and he rather appreciated the unassuming nature of it all. It facilitated an easier conversation, one guided by honesty. He divulged his unlikely path to the new Riskbreakers through the Kingsguard, Garlean conscription, his flight as a fugitive, and finally his solitary wanderings. He even mentioned Wilhelm in passing, if only as a reference to how nothing in Ala Mhigo was as it had been before the Empire. Malla nodded, ever listening but not always meeting his gaze.

"And what would you say is the greatest threat to this mission?" he asked at great length. "Aside from the 9th Bureau, the IVth Legion, the Empire as a whole."

She finished chewing the bread she'd bitten off in full before she gave her reply. "The stones."

"You believe the legends, then - that the stones can inspire great deeds in their wielders."

"We found four of them in the Barheim Passage alone." At first, Ingvald could not piece together how this reply was relevant. Then Malla continued, "If these stones are indeed the relics of Dalmascan legend - many of them believed to have been lost for centuries - the mystery of how they came to us is, in my mind, more pressing than what they are capable of."

He considered this in silence for some time but could not come to his own conclusion. He could think only of the likelihood that Orella, too, would soon come to wield the purported power of a Zodiac Brave.

[onwesterlywinds]

Priscilla Scaevola looks around and sighs with relief when she sees Malla Velius by herself. Priscilla Scaevola: We need to speak. Priscilla Scaevola removes her bandana and allows her shoulders to relax a bit. Malla Velius immediately grows serious, nodding tersely. Malla Velius: What is it? Priscilla Scaevola: What do you know of the auracite? Fact or tale. There should be twelve, I hear we have ten. Who has them? Malla Velius: I do not know.

Malla Velius' expression changes. Malla Velius: Did Grissom say something? Priscilla Scaevola seems slightly panicked. Priscilla Scaevola: Do you have one on you? Malla Velius shakes her head. Malla Velius: No. I will not reveal where it is - not because I do not trust you, but because I do not trust the stones. It is someplace secure, but not easily reached. Priscilla Scaevola: Gods... we are so fucked. I... think there was a trap in all this. And I think we already fell. Malla Velius has had little practice at concealing her emotions in situations like this one; she swallows hard and turns away, clearly quite nervous herself. Malla Velius: Can you tell me what's happened? Priscilla Scaevola: The Princess, the other Ashelia... Seems one of Grissom turning points was her inaction. That and another clue got me thinking... The stones showed Grissom how to make the bomb. He spoke as if they were sentient. Malla Velius: That is worrisome. And it merits a frank conversation with all involved - starting with Ashelia. Malla Velius: ...The Grand Steward, that is. Priscilla Scaevola: Do you know if she has one? I was thinking, if these stones are so powerful, why is Dalmasca in this position? If the stones have their own agenda... Priscilla Scaevola trails off. Priscilla Scaevola: I might be reaching... but I think we were played and the stones in our possesion is going to be our downfall. Nivelth seemed to have one, as well as Tai and they seem very volatile. I think confronting them will be actively dangerous. Malla Velius: I understand she does have a stone, yes. Malla Velius sighs. Malla Velius: Most of the legends state that the stones cannot be used by simply anyone - that the stones themselves choose who will wield them. Not unlike Eorzean stories of magical swords. But that does lend itself to the interpretation that the stones themselves are sentient. It is a possibility we cannot discount. Malla Velius: As for the others... Malla Velius isn't certain of what to say. Priscilla Scaevola: Look... I do not want to sow discord. I do think we should find those who do not have the stones and make them aware. I might be stretching the tales too much... worst case, we will need to fight our own... Malla Velius shakes her head at that. Malla Velius: I do not mean to brush your fears aside. But to do so now, before we have so much as spoken with our comrades about the stones and their effects, is premature. Priscilla Scaevola: I know... Priscilla Scaevola's eyes begin to well. Priscilla Scaevola: I know... I'm just... scared. Malla Velius definitely isn't prepared for this: even at the mere threat of tears, she doesn't know what to do. Malla Velius: I... I understand. I worry as well. Priscilla Scaevola: Sorry. Priscilla Scaevola presses her bandana against her face. Priscilla Scaevola: I love them all and would like to keep them safe. But I'm just the writer. Thanks for listening to this fool, you might be able to do something with this information. Malla Velius again shakes her head. Malla Velius: I swear to you, on Domitian's name, that the stone I hid away did not call to me. However, if it does, I will be the first to tell you. Malla Velius: As for the others, we can better prepare for the worst if we are honest with ourselves of what outcome that might look like. Priscilla Scaevola nods, and the tears start rolling this time with the significance of Malla Velius's oath. Priscilla Scaevola: Ashe first then... Malla Velius: Ashe first. Malla Velius steps forward, tentatively patting Priscilla Scaevola on the shoulder with her good hand.