#Roegadyn Language you say...

[squapejuice]

"Hyur are so boring, why would you play a human in a fantasy game?"

Fine. Whatever. You find the idea of playing a human boring. But I'm kind of getting sick of people saying this to me, a hyur enjoyer, sometimes even directly under my own screenshots of my OCs.

Hyur in FFXIV are a *wildly* fascinating take on the "humans in a fantasy setting" that we often see in video games. They're an almost complete subversion of "humans are the dominant culture that everyone assimilates into and also they did a colonialism at some point, which is why their language is The Common One".

Meanwhile, hyur in ffxiv? They're MIGRANTS.

They're NOT the dominant culture. Are they the most numerous population in a lot of places? Sure. Because they have kids out the wazoo, but I digress. Hyur in ffxiv are defined by their adaptability and willingness to assimilate. They're *so* defined by adaptability that there are at least three major historical events throughout the astral and umbral eras called "The Great Hyur Migration". Hyur only arrived in Ishgard after the dragonsong war had started and you'd be hard pressed to find any modern Hyur born and raised in Ishgard who would define themself as anything *other* than Ishgardian. Their names may be slightly different than Ishgardian elezen, but I would theorize that might just come down to class dynamics as while hyuran noble houses exist, they're not common. However in Hingashi they've completely assimilated into eastern Raen culture, as an example. I actually hesitate to find any place we know ingame to be completely dominated by hyur, because in Gridania despite the elementals picking hyur to be padjal the culture seems to be most influenced by wildwood elezen, and in ala mhigo while hyur are the most populous of demographics, the entire culture seems to be a marriage of hellsguard and miqo'te. Ul'dah is clearly highly influenced by lalafell above all, and limsa lominsa is heavily developed by the sea wolf roegadyn. Hyur just kind of fit themselves in and adapt to what everyone around them is doing.

So why is the language spoken by all the peoples in Eorzea the same? Isn't that the hyuran language? Nope! It's pretty explicitly said that the common language is a pidgin tongue that was deliberately developed by merchants and was adopted widespread out of convenience. They even say that Tural took inspiration from this in developing their own (and it's only coincidentally similar enough that your party can understand it with minimal language barrier, funnily enough. That's a hilarious way to handwave 'eh, game mechanics' tbh).

Anyway hyurs are really cool and I really want to see more people appreciating them for the interesting lore they do have and also exploring this concept more. Like making their hyurs naturally predisposed to learning multiple languages for example.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Frog Time

I'm so bad at tagging people so consider yourself tagged if you want to be :)

B A S I C S

Name: Bounding Frog (redacted roe language name because I forgor)

Nicknames: Frog

Age: 18-22 (ARR-EW)

Nameday: 23rd Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

Race: Hellsguard Roegadyn

Gender: cis woman

Sexuality: Bi

Profession: She has a summer job working with the hippo riders, although that doesn't pay as well as adventuring, so she's looking forward to Dawntrail and doing more than delivery runs.

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T S

Hair: maroon and light pink

Eyes: maroon and light pink

Skin: brown

Tattoos/scars: I headcanon the single choice of tattoos per face for roes are meaningful somehow - I chose coming of age, getting her Adventurer Name, and leaving home, so those were fresh porple swoops over her cheekbones in ARR :D I've only known her as long as she's been Frog and looked like this.

The scar on her nose is from being underhand punted like a rugby ball by an older brother back when she was an orb shaped child. Since adventuring the regular healing has stopped her getting too scarred up from any misadventures.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Notable members of their remote mountain community, maintaining an important set of Arcanima wards around an aetherically dangerous geological fault. Of course, they're good at their jobs so this wasn't very scary as an upbringing. They're a lovely couple and make a hell of a bowl of soup. All else I know about them is they're very supportive and Frog writes to them regularly.

Siblings: like six rowdy older brothers. She was very spoiled by this squad of bodyguards tbh. (Ignore the previous comment about one of them maiming her, they DO love her even if they saw her as a cannonball under other circumstances.) A couple of them left to be mercenaries, uncertain if for Garlemald - they don't write home as thoroughly.

Grandparents: Probably, tbh. We're getting out of my limited perception of Hellguard culture and history but I think I can say the remoteness of their village is an excuse for nothing too terrible to have happened to any of them :P

In-laws and other: She was sort of starting to think of Edmont as a potential in-law and he began acting like it after Events so she's acquired some without marrying. He DID also adopt Aymeric informally, so now she's courting him it's coming back around!

Pets: Multiple, even not counting animal sanctuary beasties. Some she drops by to visit where they're being looked after once she'd raised them or sheltered them for a while (the baby hippo was donated to the hippo riders thankfully before he got too large and hungry for example). Others live at the free company house getting spoiled by the staff. The free company is named after the baby tapir who is the best and cutest. :)

S K I L L S

Abilities: In character, she has yet to find something she isn't good at after a couple of false starts. (ooc is much more of a mess depending on my ability) As an all-jobs all-crafts all-gatherers weirdo she's genuinely alarming to contemplate.

Hobbies: crafting/gathering/fishing is more of a wind down respite than a career calling for her. Canonically she's finished the fishing log... ooc I haven't by a long shot :P She also loves visiting bars and pubs across the world that she's visited to drop in on old friends, or go on foodie tours of places she's liberated. They stole G'raha being a foodie traveller in the dawntrail trailer from her actually.

Kinda always wanted to do a in character review of all the drinking establishments in game.

T R A I T S

Most positive trait: determination and everything that went into being strong enough to do the end walk, which did feel like a culmination of all the positive things they ascribe to the WoL. Since she's living the life of box art Meteor with no plot deviations or alterations except what I can put into the downtime and spaces between cutscenes, I can't argue with times when they REALLY show the admirable heart of the WoL.

Most negative trait: She's not going to say no, so if you need a favour just stand near where she wanders by routinely and look forlorn and you WILL get helped to within an inch of your life.

L I K E S

Colors: royal purple, dark reds and deep blues

Smells: fresh baked anything. Probably also the fresh morning smell when she gets up at ass o'clock to do stretches or whatever gross things morning people do.

Textures: G'raha ears >:)

Drinks: black coffee, red wine, milky tea

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: tried it with the Vath and hated it. Still has no idea if Fogweed is a drug or not.

Drinks: socially and merrily with a bottomless liver.

Drugs: nothing harder than caffeine and alcohol.

Mount Issuance: her sweet blue chocobo is called Turbulence and threw off everyone who attempted to ride him before that.

Been Arrested: not outside MSQ run ins with the law

[vizakethla]

Fishing For Answers

TW: Strong Language, Alcohol Use, Light Violence, Suggestive Themes

---

“I could have fucking exploded! Do you understand that?!” Viza exclaims, grabbing the roegadyn by his collar and roughly shaking him. She lets go of her grip, placing her hand flat on his chest and pushing him back a step. Suddenly darting forward, she leans in “Like… BOOM!” she yells, screaming directly into his face. Taking a step back, she reaches to her lips for one last chug, downing the remainder of her beer before falling roughly into her seat. Kicking her feet up onto the table, in one surprisingly fluid motion.

The roe, putting on a half formed smirk, attempts to straighten out his shirt, flattening it under his palms as he regains his footing. “Contract work can be dangerous. Why don’t you let someone big and strong…” he barely has time to start his sentence before Viza shifts toward him, slamming her fist on the table. 

“Fuck no! It’s so badass!” she says, leaping back to her feet. “You should have seen it! There were all these colorful crystals, and she did all these crazy hand motions.” She gestures wildly and incoherently. “Then it was all like bzshoomp and everything was glowing!” Her flush face scrunches briefly. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Hartroeg.” he replies, eyes wide with bewilderment. Collecting himself, painting on his smirk once more, he continues, “But you can call me Fish cause…”

“So Hort, want to buy me another one?” Viza cuts him off again, sliding her empty beer across the table towards him. The man’s jaw begins to clench, grinding his remaining teeth together. He quickly opens his mouth, shifting his weight towards her. But before he could even speak, she leans forward, elbows on the table in front of her, looking straight into Hartroeg’s eyes. “After all, a nice cold beer tastes so good with, Fish.” she says slowly. Each word, dripping off her tongue.

With a long sigh, he turns and heads off in the direction of the bartender. She falls back into her seat, swinging her feet back up onto the table. Neatly crossing them as she gently kicks along to the music being performed by a bard in the corner of the room. The warm sea air blowing hair across her lightly red face. After a few moments, ‘Hort’ returns carrying two more beers.

“Would ya ever join a cult?” Viza asks, leaning back even further in her seat.

“Uhh what?” He sets the drinks down on the table, one in front of himself and the other at her feet. Squinting at her as he sits down.

“Kat’s home or whatever you want to call it.” She places heavy air quotes around the word home. 

“Who’s Kat?”

She leans in to grab the drink before settling down in her seat again. Tilting her head back and staring at the ceiling. “No one’s that nice. They always want something from you. That pretty bartender over there? She doesn’t care about your day, she just wants your gil. That merchant sitting at that table? He couldn’t give two shits about making sure you get a good product. Heck, you? You’re just hoping I get drunk enough to fuck you.”

“...” Hartroeg begins to grumble, sitting up straight. Opening his mouth…

“But what does she want from me?” She continues, completely ignoring the roe yet again. His fists clenching tighter and tighter. Viza tips forward to take a sip before letting her head fall back with a sigh. “What could someone like her possibly want from someone like me? Ughhh, you’re all the same.”

He shoots out of his seat, sending the chair flying backwards across the floor with a loud clatter. Stomping towards Viza, he stands above her. “Enough of this!” he bellows, spit flying from the corners of his mouth. “Do you have any idea who I am?! How many I’ve killed for less?”

She downs the rest of her glass, dropping it to the table, before nimbly jumping to her feet. Slapping the man firmly on his back. “You’re right! Fuck it! Worrying about this isn’t worth my time. I am better off on my own. Thanks Hark.” she proclaims, turning to leave. 

Veins now bulging off every muscle he has, the man grabs for her, unaware of the seat she had quietly slid between them. He comes crashing down with a loud thud. The full weight of his body flipping over the chair.

Without so much as a glance back, Viza slowly walks out of the inn. “Or maybe I will run into her again…” she whispers to herself.

[minti-tales]

(@driftward) Smut prompt! 4) slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds). But! You must wait to answer this until after Dawntrail launches at the very least.

I got inspired by the MSQ to write the first half, so there's a hint of *Sims "Woohoo" sound effect* at the end. Hope that works! This is me trying to practice my writing, too.

Dawntrail spoilers are here.

CW: Language, mental health, implied intercourse, violence.

"More? You got more?! I want more of your army to break upon this blade, Zoraal Ja, you pig b------. Whoresson. A coward who uses children as a shield!" 

A true shame, then, that the soldiers' armor weren't strong enough to withstand repeated rounds of aether cartridges. All that technology, all that rapid progress, literally slashed to ribbons, courtesy of a towering Roegadyn woman, called Minti Chocolate, swinging an equally towering gun blade about her head.

A few moments ago, this stretch of Section 9 had had stray Vanguard soldiers, each searching for souls to harvest. Civilian, member of the Oblivion resistance group - it didn't matter. The King of Resolve made it abundantly clear: all life within the Everkeep was to be harvested, to aid the invasion of Tuliyollal. No exceptions. No mercy to be given.

The metal ground beneath Minti roared to life, cracking and spurting flames thanks to concentrated blasts of aether. "You like that trick? I call it 'Fated Brand.' I got plenty more, my sweets. Have a taste, don't be shy!" 

Most of the soldiers were gracious enough to take themselves offline after the first hit. One of them, tsk tsk, was still standing, shaken but somehow perfectly pointing its lightning rifle at its target. Another one of Zoraal Ja's toy soldiers, with absolutely no fear, no thoughts running through its hollow frame.

It would be a pleasure to sever the soldier's head from its shoulders. 

<The Signora> Oh, yes. How many souls have you taken, puppet? Have you wished for someone to -cut- you from those horrid, horrid strings? You needn't say a word; allow me.

A cloud of purple and black smoke, almost pure darkness, materialized and danced along the Roegadyn woman's armored glove. Up to the very tip of her gunblade, all the way up, so that the weapon might more closely resemble a reaper's scythe. The Signora, the voidsent bound to Minti's reaper crystal and one of the voices in her Echo-blessed "Choir," was whispering in her ear, feeding her feelings of anger and spite.

<The Signora> Queen Sphene and Zoraal Ja are truely a couple made in the seven hells, my dear. They harbor no love for their subjects. Why, they don't even let them remember their dead. Is that not the cruelest thing you've heard, my sweetling?

She could feel those claws tug at her face, stinging metal hooks all lashed up with pretty wire.

"Shut up, shut up," Minti snarled through gritted teeth, her gunblade singing through the open air.

<The Signora> Ah, but I tire of playing the hero. I have a new game in mind, if you would hear of it. I wonder - what if we cut down each and every one of these toys? That way, our dear Queen has nowhere left to run. She can pay for her crimes like the tyrant that she is.

The soldier took a few steps back, it's gun rapidly moving from left to right, before breaking into a sprint. Off it went, clanking towards a makeshift barrier of empty crates and torn-up road. It couldn't possibly have seen the Gunbreaker dashing up behind it, readying their warped blade for a final swing.

"Your King is a cancer," the Roegadyn snarled, swinging the blade like a woman possessed. "And I- I am the barber's blade. Puppet."

For the briefest of moments, Minti felt like a puppet herself, hearing herself speak those words to the soldier's soon-to-be-cleaved frame. Something of that was familiar to her, but, where had she heard it before? As metal struck metal, rending what had false life in half, those thoughts left her mind. They weren't needed, anyways, not with what The Signora was planning next.

<The Signora> One down, oh so more to go. Now, where shall we go next-

Suddenly, there was a heavy feeling, a pair of great weights, pressing down on Minti's shoulders. She couldn't do anything but fall, like a great tree felled in the forest by a botanist's axe. This must be the soul within her gunbreaker crystal, who called himself The Royal Volunteer. She could hear his voice - deep and rumbling like the earth - as the ground greet her.

<The Royal Volunteer> You've had your fun, witch; now be useful and let her be. You weren't with her when we stormed the fortress with the others. Didn't see you fightin' for our damn life against that great lighting beast.

The lass is resting - right here - so go suck a imp's arsehole for all I care.

Now, Minti, you rest up. Might need to wake up in a few, if your friends are looking for you.

---

There is time for comfort, in this false paradise, where death is considered an inconvenience.

It's not every day that a warrior of light gets woken up to the sounds of a Cure spell being cast on them. Even rarer still is the Cure that's cast by someone who cares for them on a level few others have achieved.

There's pleasure to be found in having the warrior's jacket slipped off their shoulders, neatly folded, and put off to the side. Getting their armor pushed up by their love's hands, all the way over their head. Belt unbuckled, jeans pushed down to their feet, boots removed with reverence.

Innocent kisses that become much, much more. A touch between the legs, fingers probing, exploring great big warm depths.

You did so good today.

I did?

Yes, Minti. Yes, you did.

[reassambled-dragoon]

5: Stamp

   The most frustrating thing about learning a new language has to be when people assume you’re simple…which is a polite way of saying you’re mentally-deficient. Stasia glowered at a stack of children’s primers that a human–Hyur, Hyur, they’re called Hyur here–named Thancred had brought to her a few days ago, with large block lettering stamped on the covers and spines. The white-haired man had raised an eyebrow and smirked before walking away, leaving the sin’dorei mentally seething.

   Yes, it was true that she had blindly teleported from her world to this one, and yes, it was true that naturally, she had no prior knowledge of any of the peoples or languages on this Eitherys, but hell, it galled her to be reduced to accepting aid. Why were so many of these Scions bloody scholarly geniuses?

   The sounds of a scuffle took Stasia’s attention away from the primers. She looked up just in time to watch Storm physically carry Thancred and a slip of a boy named Alphinaud over to Stasia’s table, the Roegadyn unceremoniously dumping her burdens into chairs and shoving them close to the table itself. “I beg your–”

   “We’re settlin’ this mess here an’ now, an’ if any of you try t’leave before the air is cleared, I’m goin’ t’start shatterin’ kneecaps,” Storm growled, levelling a fierce glare on Hyur, Elezen, and blood elf in turn. Alphinaud started to open his mouth, took one glance at Mama Storm in full form, blanched, and fell silent. Thancred said nothing, though he looked more than a bit ruffled. “Now. Sunrunner, Star has noticed y’have been more than a bit agitated, especially where letters are concerned, is that right?”

   “...yes.” Her confirmation wasn’t quite a growl, but it wasn’t far from one.

   Storm nodded, her hands resting on the backs of the men’s chairs. “Can you please explain, so that we can begin untanglin’ this translation mess?”

   “Why don’t we begin with the fact that I am not a damned child,” Stasia snapped, stabbing a finger at the books. “One, I am over a century old. Two, I’m short, but so are Tataru and Krile, yet no one treats them like children. Three, I am perfectly capable of interacting in the greater world without needing to be coddled!”

   Alphinaud’s eyes widened. “Oh dear…I apologize, Stasia. I assumed you were like myself and had not reached puberty yet. That…was my error.”

   Thancred sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, meeting Stasia’s frustrated glare. “I should have spoken to you first, my lady. When I realized you had absolutely no knowledge of Eorzean, written or spoken, I thought that perhaps children’s primers would be a good place to start, especially as they are intended to teach the basics. I should have approached you, adult to adult, and for that, I sincerely apologize.”

   “Or, if for whatever reason y’were unable t’find Stasia, you could have asked Star or myself. Especially me, as Stasia has been stayin’ at my house for awhile.” Storm shook her head ruefully. “Miscommunication an’ misunderstandin’. Well, Stasia, how would you like t’resolve this?”

   Stasia reached under her chair and set a novel on the table, baring her fangs in a smile. “‘A Romance of Light’. Shall I read the first chapter aloud?”

   “A what?” Alphinaud squawked, red creeping up past his collar.

   Thancred slowly looked over his shoulder at Storm, who had a positively predatory grin on her face. “...no. Storm, you did not give her that.” When Storm’s grin only became wider, he actually blanched a little before eyeing Stasia. “How much of that have you read?”

   The sin’dorei’s response was to angle the book so the others could see a red ribbon tucked into the pages, approximately at the halfway mark. Storm positively cackled, Alphinaud buried his head in his arms and groaned, and Thancred covered his face with his hands. Stasia, thoroughly enjoying the men’s discomfort, opened the novel to the first page and began reading out loud.

[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2023 - 15. Portentous Characters: Thancred Waters, Y'shtola Rhul, Yda Hext Rating: Teen Summary: Thancred has trouble with language. And maybe a few other things. Pre-1.0 Notes: The idea of Y’shtola helping young Thancred with the more formal language of Sharlayan is one I am borrowing from @autumnslance

Thancred arrived at the Last Stand with an exaggerated sigh, falling, more than sitting into his seat, letting his arms almost flail with the motion as he did so. He smiled faintly as Yda giggled in response.

“And how is young Master Waters finding Sharlayan today, then?” she asked.

“Brain-picklin’ ‘orrid, Yda, I don’ know how you tolerate it,” he said, dramatically flopping back in his chair and holding his arm across his forehead. Yda laughed some more.

“Cor, you put on a convincing mummery of being the queen of drama when you put your mind to it. Thinking about changing your study focus, then? I suspect espionage requires some talent to put on a show, but to see you lay it on so thick, well! I think you might’ve missed a calling to a traveller’s troupe.”

“My life is just SO 'ARD, Yda,” he exclaimed, and she continued laughing in response. “My new master’s a real - wait. Hang on.” He sat up suddenly, looking around, paranoid. “Is this one of 'is tests? You have to tell me. Is he going to come out and get my bottle?”

Yda, still amused, just shook her head at him, and he relaxed back into his chair. “…an’ Y'shtola’s provin’ to be a real taskmaster as well.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. How many words does a body need, anyroad? In Limsa, we don’ spend Gil on words what don’t need it, but she’ll spend a 'unnert Gil on a two-Gil word an’ call it bein’ precise. Precise, sure. Precisely a pain.”

“Well, I think you’re doing great. You don’t clip your words nearly so much as you used to. You did let a bottle slip a moment ago though.”

“Nah that was on purpose. Still. She’s not 'alf as bad as Papalymo, but still she can be fussy. Sit up straight, chin up, speak from th’ chest, tack back-”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“-and did I mention all the words? Sure we’ve got some jingo back home, but here - like prodigious. Big word, I thought you just used it for big things, like look at that Roegadyn, he’s got a prodigious -”

“Thancred!” said Yda, before letting out a peal of laughter.

“But apparently it means 'eliciting amazement’, so you could also say the same if 'is member were tiny, right? Or like right now, my face when I’m learnin’ all these words. I apparently should be chagrined. Which if you’d asked me last sennight, I’d thought chagrin was one o’ the Bismarck’s fancier dishes.”

Yda continued to laugh heartily as he went on, before she seemed to finally get herself under control and watch him keenly. He quickly sat up a little straighter.

“Ah, but, of course, I am learning. It is taking some time, and perhaps a bit of difficulty, but with such an excellent teacher, of course, I think there may be, shall we say, 'hope for me yet’. I may yet learn to put many such important words to use, such as, ah, defenestration, lugubrious, feckless, and so on. With enough work, perhaps I too could sound as appropriately portentous as any proper Sharlayan.” He leaned back in his chair, to look up into the faintly annoyed expression on Y'shtola’s face. “Why hello Y'shtola.”

She put her hands on her hips and glared down at him for a moment before reaching out to flick him soundly on the forehead. “You are using a less common definition for that word, but I suppose I shall accept it. Your attempts at flattery are hereby noted and ignored.”

Thancred just rubbed his head as she walked over to one of the empty seats and sat down primly with her lunch, while Yda fell back into giggling.

[tsunael]

Ask NPC game - you know I gotta ask about my boy Riol.

describe your OC's feelings/relationship to an NPC.

Riol!

She thinks of him as... fairly handsome, but more importantly one of the most trustworthy of the remnants of the Crystal Braves. Of all of them, he is the most reliable. Not only does he come to [her] to inform about his suspicions of Ilberd, but he's the one that takes over for Thancred once he gets yoinked. A real guard hound-- reliable and friendly-- if there was a Eorzean equivalent to such.

Their relationship is pretty amiable. In the rare moments they're around each other they definitely give a warm hello to one another. Maybe a drink or two?

I don't think she understands a word of what he's saying though. Thieves Cant is already pretty difficult, but Limsa/Roegadyn dialect is like a foreign language to her despite living so long there (to much comedic effect).

... As an aside, I think him and Thancred would get along really well but in the best/worst way possible. They've definitely made unscrupulous bets together about her. Just sayin'.

[vibrantrose]

basics

Full Name: Vibrant Rose

Nickname(s): Rose

Age: 33

Birthday: ??

Race: Roegadyn

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Bi-curious (Bisexual)

Romantic Orientation: Biromantic

Relationship Status: Single

Religion: Rhaalgr

Occupation: Dancer, Courier, 'Gleaner' of a darker nature

Language(s) Spoken:  Common

physical appearance

Face Claim: N/A

Hair Color: Bright pinkish red

Eye Color: Green

Height: 7'3"

Build: Muscular, buff af

Distinguishing Characteristics: Her hair, smile

personality

Positive Traits: Kind, outgoing

Negative Traits: blunt, Works both sides of the law

Goals/Desires: Learn how to read

Fears: WiP

Hobbies: Dancing, running, sparring, hunting

family

Father: Vivid Stone

Mother: Languid Rose

Sibling(s): None

Child(ren): None

Other Family: Either missing or dead

Pet(s):  No

Financial Status: Just on the side of poor

other information

Criminal Record: She has never gotten caught ;)

Drink: Socially

Smoke: Yes

Drugs: Socially

*You may know her if:

Your character is involved in the underground black markets of Eorzea and beyond. Rose is a 'gleaner' of sorts; a courier; and will collect on debts owed

If your character is an Ala Mhigan refugee who sought sanctuary in Ul'dah and Thanalan in general

Just say hi to her if you are ICly out and about and see her in Ul'dah, etc!

[theimperialnuisance]

FFXIV Write 2023 || FFXIV Write info\\Prompt list\\Character info \\Master post ||

Prompt 2: Bark

the sharp explosive cry of certain animals, especially a dog, fox, or seal.

Character(s): Atticus Wolfram and some random poor Hyur in Ul’dah Cw: mild language, implied violence  Word count: 1758 Notes: So this took a bit because I got super invested in it. (This also contains my own hc with Reaper and voidsent stuff!) Remember when I said to not piss off Attitcus’s voidsent? Well here’s that. /runs/

“Got a job for you–should be easy.” 

Atticus took a swig of his ale as a small piece of parchment was passed to him across the table. He read it over a few times before looking back up at the Roegadyn in front of him with a frown. “You mean you have a job for the Raven,” he stated flatly, eyeing his client suspiciously. “You called me here telling me you needed my skill as your Gunbreaker but from the looks of this, you actually need my skill as a Reaper.” 

The Roegadyn shrugged with an amused huff. “Would you’ve come here if I was honest?” And when he was met with silence, he continued on with ease. “Listen, a mere thug couldn’t make this man shake in his boots, I need a real threat to silence him. He’s been slandering my business to anyone he sees–”

“You run a pretty shady business, Loezais.” Atticus cut in, arching an eyebrow. “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t been arrested by the Flames by now.”

Loezais glanced behind Atticus’s shoulder, as if expecting someone to burst through his private office before leaning forward with a sigh. “That’s not the point of why I need you. I need you to rough him up a bit, scare him a little, and also he somehow managed to steal some documents that very well could get me arrested. I need them back–his slander isn’t really an issue if he doesn’t have the blackmail.”

“Well,” Atticus chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms. “You should’ve started with that information in the first place. I can’t very well have my best client go under, now can I?” His tone was laced with sarcasm that Loezais didn’t find the least bit amusing. 

“Are you going to take the job or not?” 

“And why can’t you do it?” Atticus tested as he leaned forward again, knowing the question would get him nowhere. “Your appearance alone is enough to send anyone running.” 

Loezais threw him another displeased look. “You’re the Raven, aren’t you? My reputation is only shady, not formidable like yours.” 

A silent standoff passed between them before Atticus finally threw his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright.” he knocked back the rest of his ale and stood up, scraping the chair against the floor. “Your reward amount is big enough to pay off some of my other debts so I’ll take the job.” Atticus snatched the parchment from the table, glancing back at Loezais who looked way too smug. The Elezen threw him a disapproving look before making his leave. “Just, don’t lure me under false pretenses next time.” 

–=--=--=--=- A mere thug couldn’t sway the man and apparently, neither could a Reaper with a terrifying reputation. Mayhap because the Hyur was new to Ul’dah and didn’t really know of the Raven, but of course, Loezais wasn’t the type to do much research when it came to anyone who slandered his business. It was honestly almost laughable how easily this man was able to outsmart Loezais to steal the documents in the first place and if it wasn’t for the fact that Atticus was getting a sizable amount of gil from this, he would’ve sat back and watched Loezais’s bad deals finally catch up to him. But alas, a job was a job, and as much as he hated to admit it, Loezais was one of his best clients; he couldn’t walk away empty-handed.

The job was easier said than done though, because despite the fact the man couldn’t hold a candle to Atticus strength wise, it was his smart-arse mouth that started to make things difficult. He was certainly annoying to say the least and it made it all the more satisfying to send him crashing to his back after they finsiehd their brawl. 

Atticus leaned over the man who was slumped against the wall, a little bit of blood leaking from his mouth as he tried to continue jeering up at the other who bested him. “I’d be careful who you steal from next time,” Atticus threatened lightly. “You try to screw over the ones who screwed you over in Ul’dah, you suffer the consequences.”  

And with that, Atticus plucked the documents from the man’s bag and straightened up. “I certainly enjoyed this meeting,” he said lightly, dusting himself off and slinging his scythe onto his back again. “I went easy on you this time since you didn’t know any better, but next time, it won’t be so pleasant–for you at least.” With one final look at the man, Atticus turned to take his leave. 

The Hyur however, didn’t seem ready to back down despite being knocked down. “So that’s it?” he spat as he struggled to stand back up on his feet. “All of that and you’re just going to walk away?”

Atticus’s eyes narrowed as he slowly turned around, ready to throw a witty remark his way but the man opened his mouth again. 

“Looks like you’re all bark and no bite,” the Hyur said smugly as he wiped the blood from his mouth. “I thought you had a reputation that should leave me ‘shakin'!’” He made a mock gesture as if he was scared but his taunting smile said otherwise.

Cocky bastard.

Atticus froze, feeling his blood boil, and while all he wanted was to continue leaving, knowing this nuisance of a man wasn’t worth anymore of his time, the Elezen knew all too well the overwhelming furry washing over him was moreso from his voidsent, not his own self. 

Curse this new-found connection they had formed. His voidsent was beginning to get bold, trying to take over more often as of late over the smallest of annoyances.

Ignore it. Atticus grit his teeth, his hands lightly curling into fists as he fought against the unwanted rage clawing to get out. He’s just trying to rally you as a defense, he’s not worth it. He had the documents Loezais requested, the job was done–he’d be a fool to try and continue his slander without any proof.

But still, what if he went missing? He’d be doing the whole city-state a favor wiping his smug face from existence, wouldn’t he? It was after all the true request of his client. He was asked to get the documents back yes, but didn’t he also state needing a real threat to silence him and his slander in the first place? He didn’t specify how it was to be done…

No. No. Atticus knew he may be many things but a killer was not one of them. 

“What, you’re just going to stand there? Is your tongue tied?” The man continued to sneer, bringing Atticus back to the fact that he was indeed just standing there having an internal war with himself. “Did I hit a nerve? Are you the type to just make empty threats and run away?”

(“So you’re just going to run away?! Gods be dammed who you leave behind?!”)

“You don’t know me,” Atticus muttered darkly, feeling his own anger begin to mount as the man’s words began to bring up old unwanted memories. Memories of home. Memories of betrayal and guilt. Memories of him. Still, the man continued his jeers and insults, making it increasingly difficult for Atticus to know who was becoming more enraged–him or his voidsent. 

“You’re a right coward,” the man laughed. “like a pup running away with his tail between his legs! I bet that’s exactly what you did before now and why you’re running around doing someone else’s dirty work! You can’t face your own problems!” 

(You’re a coward, Ven! You turn your back on the Empire, on your people! All because you cannot face your own problems!”)

Shutupshutupshutup! Atticus pressed his hands over his ears before finally, the thread holding back his voidsent snapped.

He wasn’t exactly sure if the giddy feeling in his chest belonged to him or his voidsent but either way, he felt his lips curl into a gleeful smile as he watched the man’s expression finally twist into one of pure terror, his mouth immediately snapping closed. That’s much better. 

He loomed toward the man who let out a startled yelp and took a hesitant step back. But it was much too late, and Atticus was much too fast. 

Weapon drawn, eyes gleaming blood red, he lunged. 

–-=--=--=--

“Here’s your gil,” A velvet pouch was passed to Atticus across the table but he made no move to grab it, lost deep in thought. Loezais continued to speak to him but the words didn’t register. It wasn’t until the man was snapping his fingers in front of his face that Atticus came back to reality, blinking in confusion. 

“Pardon?” he asked slowly.

“You sure are out of it today,” his client chuckled, crossing his arms as he sat back in his chair. “I asked how ya did it? What exactly did you do to get him to stop? I haven’t heard a single word outta him whenever I’m at the Quicksand…haven’t seen him around much of late either now that I think about it.” he added in quiet bemusement. 

Atticus’s expression remained stoic though his heart sank to his stomach. Truth be told, he blacked out the moment his voidsent snapped (or was it him?) When he came to his senses again, the sight before him was one of absolute carnage, and he was sure to have nightmares about it for moons on end. Thankfully no one else was around which made the clean up swift and he made sure to give the man a proper send off–it was the only way to quell the guilt mounting inside of him over the whole ordeal.

It wasn’t my intention to do that

Atticus let out a slow breath as he grabbed the pouch of gil and pocketed it. There was no way in any layer of hell he would ever tell a soul what had happened that day.  “Haven’t I told you before?” Atticus’s eyes darkened  but he kept his tone light. “It’s better if you don’t ask. The job is done and that’s all that matters, isn’t?” He turned on his heel and made for the door, not bothering to continue the conversation any further. “You know where to find me for next time.” He lazily waved his hand goodbye in the air and the door closed with a snap.

Atticus was a man known for many things and while a killer wasn’t one of them, his voidsent would beg to differ. 

[fell-court]

Today’s gameplay progress:

I made a new OC for this game ^-^

This is Bryn..something - I haven’t quite decided on the second part of his name (or his surname) yet, but I’m pretty set on his name beginning with Bryn, so that’s what I’ll call him for the time being! It means “spring” in the Roegadyn language.

Bryn is a Sea Wolf Roegadyn, born and raised in the heart of Limsa Lominsa - though he certainly doesn’t live up to the pirate-y sorts of stereotypes you might be envisioning from that description! No, instead, he is much more calm and easygoing - a quiet (yet not anxious) supporting presence for anyone who he feels he can help. He’s keenly fond of plants and the medicines that can be made from them, and decided to learn healing magic as a way of bolstering his more apothecary-like knowledge in the wake of the Seventh Umbral Calamity and its consequences.

In terms of how he fits into my version of events, Bryn is the fourth member of the light party consisting of himself (as a conjurer/white mage), Clio (as a gunbreaker), Tsutsuji (as an arcanist/summoner), and Lorenza (as a black mage). As the healer of the group, he provides a lot of very necessary support to the others, so he’s able to achieve a lot more when fighting alongside them compared to if he was trying to do combat alone. He’s actually the first adventurer that Clio meets and really gets to know when she first arrives in Limsa Lominsa, right at the start of the story; the two of them end up forming a bit of a pair, often teaming up to delve through dungeons together thanks to their skillsets being so compatible with each other. He definitely becomes one of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and in doing so discovers that he possesses a somewhat unique version of the Echo - this manifests for him as a heightened awareness of fluctuations in people’s natural aether, in a way that lets him sense their current health or afflictions quite acutely.

That’s about all that I have to say for him right now, but I wanted to make this little post to introduce him, so here that is!

[pr1ncesspopstar]

Duet Across Stars and Time - FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 24: Duet (Free Day)

Spoilers for Shadowbringers and Endwalker (in-between patches for both as well) | Ao3

-

Halditar yawned loud, her exhale almost overtaking the gentle plucking on the strings on her lute. What was morning to most was winding down to be evening to her. Since arriving in Novrandt it had thrown her internal clock into chaos, made worse by the return of night and her habits of late. With news of a man slaying sin eaters and calling himself by her title in the Source, she took it upon herself to patrol the Lakelands at night in search of this mystery man. It ripped whatever remained of her sleep schedule to shreds.

She’d spent most of her waking hours at the end of her treks across the woods in the bar beneath the Wandering Stairs. The Crystarium never slept, but she found during these moments before dawn broke, it was at its most quiet. Her voice sailed over the stone and metal paths, softly floating from ear to ear. The only acknowledgement of her song being the occasional sway she’d see in a merchant or passerby as they walked, wrapped within her melody.

“You’re gonna put me to sleep if you keep it up with that song…” Giott yawned from the seat across the table. The dwarf was the only other person Halditar’s had met with sleeping habits, perhaps worse than her own. Often, they were each other’s only company between the hazy hours where few were awake.

“Ale benders finally slowing you down?” Halditar teased the shorter girl.

“You wish. You’re just jealous I can down more than you and still stand straight.” Giott said, as cheeky as ever, a finger tracing the rim of a half-empty cup. The moments of silence stretched on as the roegadyn (or galdjent, in this land) kept playing, her eyes closed and basking in the sound. A question broke it.

“So what’s with those words you sing? Can’t say I’ve ever heard a language like that spoken like that in all my years…” The dwarf’s ever shined with a soft curiosity. “Is that the language of you and the Exarch’s home?”

Halditar chuckled, a soft sound that rolled out easily with the warm, comforting music. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just a bunch of nonsense I came up with when I was little. There’s not much thought, just feeling.”

That’s only part true, but to explain anymore would complicate things. She wasn’t sure how she could describe this idea, that one day rang through her whole being, clearer than crystal. It felt primordial, tied to her core. Yet it was all her own creation and hers alone, of that she was sure. Unless she taught them, no one would know the song as she did.

“Really? Could have tricked me… I’m not one for ‘poetics,’ but it really is a pretty sound. Kind of short, though.”

“Well, it’s only half done. It’s supposed to be a duet, I think, since I never figured out the other words.” Halditar’s fingers slowed over the strings, leaving more space for silence to fill. The air itself seemed to yearn for something to join the space, though it never would. As if the world knew this was a song cursed to stay incomplete. “But haven’t been able to find the other person who knows the rest. It’s fine though-”

The song’s crawl picked up once more. Though it was certainly missing something if one knew it as Giott did now (though what may be a question with no answer), it did not belie the strength the incomplete verse had. A soothing, soulful melody that conveyed strength and sadness. It would not sound out of place in a tragedy.

“I can feel them, somewhere. I look forward to meeting them. It’s a small world, it’s only a matter of time.” Her fingers slowed a last time. The song faded gracefully through the open air. She set her lute down, exhausting seeping in at the weight of her own peaceful music finally hit her.

“You know, I never believe all that schmancy bard talk. It usually sounds like a lot of bullshit to me. But when it’s you? Well, it’s hard not to believe in it.” Giott said softly and raised her cup to her towards the Warrior of Darkness. “Here’s hoping you find the bastard. When you do, you better come back and share the full song, ya hear?”

“Promise.”

The sun’s beams pierced through the glass, welcoming the day and signaling Halditar needed to sleep. She hummed the song still as she went to her room. It came as natural as breathing.

-

Amaurot was but a mote of light on the horizon, a sliver of gold on the vast blanket of stars above her. Even this far that felt too close, it was a blemish on the sea of rolling soft grass that waved in the wind, with gentle hills perfect to race and roll over. Somewhere above, the soft babbling of a brook carved its way through the mountain. A bird sang its nightly warble in the branches above her head, a contrast to her own song.

She had morphed and shaped her staff into a lute, but her strumming was minimal. Instead, her fingers took to the polished wood, rapping and knocking against its hollow body to create a rhythm. Her foot crunched against the stones beneath her as a beat. It’s reminiscent of the ticking of a clock, hypnotic in its own way. Most of the melody comes for her voice, strong as it echoed unto verdant plains and up the mountainside.

“Elea!”

She threw her gaze over her shoulder, surprised, but unfaltering in the crafting of her song.

“Themis,” she greeted quietly betwixt lyrics. He looked tired, hair tousled with pale skin flushed a gentle pink. The bottoms of his robes dusted with dirt as a trophy of the long journey he’d taken to reach her. “You’re quite far from home tonight.” She shifted over to make room on the rock for him.

He flustered for a moment, mouth opening and closing, eyes wide as he struggled with words. She couldn’t help but smile. He sometimes seemed caught between boyhood and manhood, still growing into the mighty role he was asked to fill. His moment of shock passed, and he joined her, overlooking the expanse before them.

“I’d say the same to you, but I know you’ve gone much farther.” She felt his gaze move between her face, her instrument, and the small golden pearl that was their city in the distance. “No one knew where you went. We thought you just disappeared. If not for the note you left, I wouldn't have known where to search…”

“I apologize for making you and the others worry.” She said. Though there was an unspoken assurance she would slip away without a word again, as she was wont to do. She couldn’t help it, when the thoughts filled her head to the point of splitting out, and she needed to escape somewhere to let them out, sort them and explore them without the weight of being ‘Azem’ coming. The needless decorum and restrictions were much too stifling for her thoughts, which often went against the grain of her fellows.

“This is where you come to think, then?” His voice was barely a whisper, eyes shining as those blue eyes saw this new angle of the world.

“No, I just found this place while wandering and thought it’d be as fine as any other destination.” Her words were plain for one of her stature. She did not use her words lightly. Her tongue was as much a tool as any other. To dull it with pointless words and muddle her meanings, she could imagine no worse action.

Perhaps that’s why the sounds falling from her tongue felt so refreshing. They were nothing but true, phonetics and morphology dancing with these ideas and feelings that resonated from all about her.

“That’s beautiful music,” her guest seemed to agree, Themis having pulled his eyes from the city to stare at her. She kept her focus on the start above, imagining how different they would be next time this song played. “Is that a new language you’re developing?”

“Hardly.”

“An incantation then?”

“No. It’s something just for us”

He seemed confused now, brow furrowing as her movement stilled. Silence was so loud, the world filling the air with the sound of insect chitters and the wind rustling leaves to make up for her silence. A noble attempt to fill the space in her song, but fruitless.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand… Are you working on this song with someone?”

“That’s the easiest way to explain it.” Elea nodded, fingers taking up the rhythm once more. Melodies danced in her head about what could join the beat, but it wasn’t her song to finish. Her role was already done.

“I had a dream, many nights ago,” her eyes locked onto the space between stars, thinking of the person playing music at the same time as her, blind in the eye of most of the world. That even with a friend, she should still feel a painful loneliness thanks to the stranger she’d never make music with. “A premonition is maybe a more accurate word. But I thought of a song, a duet in which I have half, and another person has the other. So I’ve been writing my half and wondering who it is that might have the other.”

“You mean you’re writing a song with someone you haven’t even asked yet? How are you supposed to finish it?” Themis’ voice was pitched high with shock, confusion only settling heavier on his brow when she shook her head.

“I haven’t even met them yet. I don’t need to think too hard, as it’s not mine to finish. All I can do is play what I have and wonder what the person who will finish it will be like.” She looked down at her hands, soft still despite all her work, magic, such a thoughtless task for her natural talents, and hardly with the time now to spare to curiosities, unless she snuck off. “I think they are someone I would very much like to meet someday. I worry though, I may not have the chance.”

“Elea... Are you truly alright?” Themis stared at her with naught but worry in his voice. “These thoughts and words, they are unlike you…”

She smiled kindly to her younger friend, though it was strained against her teeth. These thoughts were like her, they always were, but it was for that confusion she spoke them less often. Feeling and ideas deep from her core, close to her heart, to expose them. Often met with confusion rather than curiosity, a failure to understand time after time. The constant doubts of her deeper thoughts... She was exhausted long ago by it all and simply stopped sharing, except with her closest confidants. It was easier, if not lonely, to only speak some of her truth instead of all of them. She wondered, often, how long that would last before she cracked under pressure.

“You needn’t worry, sweet boy. Just talking to myself, as usual.” She said and raised a hand to pay his head. Stroking his hair, the boy blushed and went frigid, surprised by such familiar affection. An idea came to mind, something to at least distract him, spare him from worrying over her words. “Why don’t you do me a favor? In the future, keep an ear out for the other part of this song, and find the singer.”

“But how will I recognize part of a song I’ve never heard before?” He asked, struggling to keep up with her.

“You’re a smart one, and I trust in you. I know you will recognize it.” She reassured him. A thousand more questions danced in his eyes, but he asked the one she had hoped to hear most.

“And what should I do, when I find them?”

“Complete the duet... and get to know that person for me. I would like to think that whoever carries the other half of this song, they must be a terribly interesting person. Someone I think you’d like very much, in my stead.” She said it with all her heart, because she knew it would be true. “Won’t you do that for me?”

Themis hesitated, uncertainty and confusion seen in the tug downwards of his lip, the furrow of his brow, but he nodded. His unfaltering trust warmed her heart. “Yes, Elea.”

“Thank you, sweet boy.”

“May I ask something of you, then?” He asked, looking at her guitar. “Play your part of the song until dawn comes, so that way I won’t forget it. To find this 'half' of your duet easier.”

A request she was happy to comply with, singing until it rendered her throat raw upon the first beams of dawn. A melody that begged kindness, and mercy, and freedom from burdens, with words only she could know. She trusted in fate that somewhere, this song continued. It would compete, even if it was only long after she and all she knew was gone.

-

Elidibus wandered the Lakeland ruins in his stolen skin. It fit well, or at least sufficiently enough to vanquish sin eaters with a single cleave of this mighty axe. Still biding his time, waiting for the right moment to take action. Despite the rising tension, he was ever patient. Impossibly so. It was his duty, after all.

He came across the skins of eaters, aetheric burns and precise cuts along their most vulnerable parts. Dead in an instant, far too quick, too proficient to be the work of Crystarium guards or even skilled mercenaries. This was done by someone that had vanquished every known sin eater beneath the sun.

A voice floated between the purple trees, carried by the wind. Elidibus froze, stuck in space and time as the sound danced about him. Flames from a campfire licked into the air between the trees, silhouetting the figure from whom the music came.

He knew no language or magic that used the words flowing from her mouth, yet it was familiar to him. Familiar in such a way that his chest ached, this body’s heart struggling to pump blood through its veins on his behalf. His skin prickled in excitement, feeling his hair stand on end as if he had just been given an answer he longed to know. But the question was more than an eternity away, as lost as so many things were. This made the pain only amplify.

On instinct, he hummed. Some sound that held no meaning, but it was innate. A gentle melody that could quell any heart. Fitting into the spaces between the shadow’s song. An act the figure did not fail to notice.

“Who’s there?!” Halditar’s swung a torch behind, nouliths darting into the night to search for and disarm any living threat that wandered to close. No magic glow or light of fire was quick enough to catch the figure that melted into shadows. She stared long and hard, trying to catch any signs of anything, but gave up only when her weapons faltered at the very edge of her mental limits.

She recalled her weapons, and lowered her torch, snuffing it out in the dirt as she sat before the fire.

She sang her lonely duet again, only softer this time. Mind pulled to the whisper on the wind that sounded so familiar.

So close, yet so far from being complete.

[xiv-wolfram]

Gladiators - Comic Script

Prequel - Age 25

Raubahn had a really bad day at work.

Catch up on my WoLComics (Chronological List)

This is the script for a future comic. Posting for those who don’t want to wait to get the story.

Narrator - “Around fifteen years before the events of ARR. Wolfram (the future Warrior of Light) and gladiator Raubahn Aldynn have been dating for about six months. They share a small apartment together. Wolf returns home with food from his job at the Quicksand.” Shot of small one room apartment, Wolf setting bag on table. Raubahn sitting on the bed in the dark. Wolfram - “I brought dinner! …Are you okay, Calf?”

Wolf walks towards Rau. Rau lights the lantern near him. He looks miserable, his face streaked in tears. - “Not really… he’s dead.”

Wolf sits next to Rau and puts his right arm around him, worried expression. - “No! The young Lalafell you were training? It’s barely been a week! How could they have him fight this early?!”

Rau leaning forward, face in hand. - “I …I don’t know. I don’t understand it. His parents sold him… perhaps those owning the debt in the Syndicate wanted them to suffer more? Perhaps for some sick amusement? I just know they wanted the lad dead.”

Wolf looks shocked, “Dead?! I thought the point was to make money and keep the fighters alive.”

Rau looks at Wolf and scoffs - “Aye, love but - do you know how *easy* it is to kill? Restraint is something that comes with practice. The new fighters do not yet know their strength… and those with sway looking to alter the outcome use it to their advantage when setting the tourneys.”

Wolf smiles sadly - “Ah, I see.” Dark Thought - ‘It is quite easy isn’t it? Easier each time. You grew to like it, didn’t you? Monster.’

Rau starts tearing up again. - “They pit him against three others. Just as inexperienced, but… they were Roegadyn.” Rau thought - ‘They are victims in this as well. ...Mayhap I can offer to train them so this doesn’t happen again?’

Wolf looks horrified - “No one questioned this?! None put a stop to it?!” Dark Thought - ‘You could! Murder the Syndicate members simply for making him cry. You’ve done more for less.’

Rau looks guilty, thinks - ‘I hope he understands.’ Says - “No one but me. I… may have been suspended from the next tourney for some of my language… and property damage after his death. ”

Rau leans against Wolf, letting himself be comforted. Wolf smirks - “Ah, well your rage was understandable, but …you could leave for good. We could go anywhere. I don’t care what my life looks like as long as you’re happy.” Rau beams - “Thank you Pup, but I make the bastards too much gil for them to take any real action against me. Besides, a few more years and I’ll win enough to change things for poor souls like the one lost today.”

Wolf holds him and smiles sadly - “Aye, I had a feeling you’d say that. You’re a good man Raubahn Aldynn.” Rau scoffs - “I’m not sure about that. Certainly a hungry man. Is that roast mutton I smell?”

Catch up on my WoLComics (Chronological List)

[voidsentprinces]

Solus zos Galvus: And who opposed van Darnus's conquest?

Gaius van Baelar: It would appear she was opposed by the Eorzean Alliance. One Kanne-E-Senna, Nanamo Ul Namo, and Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn.

Solus zos Galvus: ...I swear you just made that last one up.

Gaius: Nay, the Roegadyn particularly from La Noscea have the naming conventions of their own languages! A mixture of lingustic novelty and proof of legacy.

Solus: Like?

Gaius: Your radiance, the Admiral of the Limsa Lominsan forces is flanked by her right hand man, one; Eynzahr Slafyrsyn as well as the Marauder Guild's leader, Wyrnzoen Saelsmyndsyn!

Solus: Okay, Gaius. You need to stop saying words and expecting me to know whatever the fuck it means. Is there anyone with a simple name?

Gaius: Aye, some Roegadyn from a different tribe are simply named after adjectives and nouns such as Curious Gorge.

Solus: Fuck it, I am going to war with the Eorzea on Principle for their silly names.

Ghost of Azem: Says the man who was Emet-Selch, colleague of such characters as Emmerololth and Igeyorhm. Do tell me how the glass houses are, OH GREAT FOUNDING EMPEROR SOLUS ZOS GALVUS!

Solus: Shut the fuck up, AZEM!

[dragons-ire]

#20 - Petrichor

They skirted the city through the brambled pathways of the East Shroud by wain. Avoiding the settlements where they could get away with it. Uncovering the crates in the back to show the wares to the one Wood Wailer patrol they came across, but otherwise rode in silence.

Technically, only one of them was Forestborn enough to know to be wary of the trees, but none of them wanted any trouble.

From his sentry post on the back of the wagon, Breandan clutched the lance stolen from his foster-father's armory with both hands. His gaze on the trees until they rolled through a dark stone passageway, lined with bottles and curing jars that might have been familiar once.

It was raining when they came out on the other end. The smell of wet leaves and earth all around them.

The large man Ser Erembourc had introduced and Breandan was still struggling to learn the name of left his seat inside the wagon to join him. Bhalnbhar.  Bhalnbhar Ask...wilf..syn. Pointed the wickedly large axe  towards the ground as he sat down.

"Everything alright back here, lad?"

"Been fine. Quiet."

Bhalnbhar made a sound in his throat and spat reflexively on the ground behind them.

"..never say that?"

"Say what? I just said it was qu-"

"Tch. Shut yer gob, greenhorn. Ye trying to invite ill luck on us."  The Roegadyn's gaze shifted back and forth through the trees.

"...sorry." Breandan clutched his lance and the rosary wrapped around his wrist as if in contrition.

"Just keep yer eyes peeled." Bhalnbhar hopped off the wagon with a solid thud. He paced behind a couple of steps before wandering off towards the front, muttering audibly enough for Breandan's hearing

Soft little green nobleman's brat. Don't know what the boss was thinking.

"Yeah? Fuck you too. How many dragons have you killed."

Then, as if on queue, the wagon jolted to a stop. He was ready for Erembourc to come back and scold him for ungentlemanly language or something. And waited. And waited some more.

Then, holding his lance, he leaned around to peer around to the front. Then quickly back to watch behind.

"I'm afraid that we're lost." He heard Ser Erembourc's commanding voice in the trees. Their hands spread out as if in peace instead of anywhere near their sword. Talking to one of the small cluster of people that had come to  meet them on the road.

"If you can just tell us where we are, we can consult our maps and be on our way."

"Weary Travelers!" An unfamiliar voice broke the silence after with odd cheer. "How weary you all look, yeeeees. Please, what is the hurry? You are welcome to tarry here....."

As he strained to hear, Breandan's gaze tracked to hints of movement in the trees. Bits of cloth rags fluttering in the light breeze. Odd bundles of twigs tied into patterns waving alongside them.

"...here at Journey's End."

He looked back in the road to the sight of several other similarly dressed figured stepping from the trees.

They seemed to be surrounded.

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write Day 2

Aberrant - departing from an accepted standard OR diverging from the normal type.

CONTENT WARNING: asshole parents denigrating their child with sexually charged language

"Master? A letter arrived for you."

Ahldblaet Fyrilberksyn looked up from the stack of documents with an irritated expression at the servant who'd interrupted him, a hyuran male of fair skin and hair.  "Well, boy? Who is it from then? Twelve save you if this isn't worth interrupting my very important work!"

The man went even paler. "I....I don't know, master. The envelope was not signed. The post markings indicate that it originated in Eorzea, but otherwise the only marking is that of a small green axe. I don't know..."

Ahldblaet's eyes, normally perpetually narrowed due to being deep set in his face, widened in shock. "Give that here!" he shouted. "And be gone with you!"

The servant scurried over to Ahldblaet's massive desk and practically dropped the envelope on the nearest corner before fleeing with all haste, as though for his life. Ahldblaet immediately snatched it from the stack of parchment it had fallen on and inspected the markings that the servant had mentioned.

"Husband?" a voice called from the side door that led from his office further into the home.  Said door opened and a shorter Roegadyn woman stepped through, her ash-colored skin in marked contrast to the sea-blue dress she wore. Her dark grey hair framed a face that wore an annoyed expression. "What is all this bellowing about? You are disturbing my guests. It is...unseemly."

Ahldblaet turned his severe gaze upon the new entrant. He was tall and exceptionally broad, a picture of strength in his youth, but his body had taken on a measure of fat in his older age and more sedentary work. Despite this, and his balding head of hair, his steely eyed expression still cowed many of the people he dealt with on a day to day basis. "It would seem, wife, that the enormous investment we have paid into those mercenaries we dispatched to Eorzea may have finally borne fruit. This is a missive their leader sent me. After our last communication I told him, in no uncertain terms, not to contact me until he had something of note to report. Unless he has foolishly ignored my orders, this would mean he has something."

The woman was not cowed, having long becoming immune to her husband's glares. Impatiently she gestured to the envelope. "Well, open it then, you great oaf!  Maybe we will finally learn where our daughter vanished to!"

Ahldblaet tore the envelope and removed the missive inside. He began to read aloud, knowing from prior experience if he did not, his wife would snatch the paper from his hands mid-sentence. She was not a patient one.

"Masters Ahldblaet Fyrilberksyn and Lady Usynwyda Holaszirnwyn,

I am please to report that after much time and hard work on the part of the Emerald Marauders, we have located your wayward daughter. Furthermore, we have determined the reasoning as to why she evaded both us and every previous mercenary company your lordship sent to retrieve her

First, your daughter is no longer using her given name of Syhrwyda Ahldblaetwyn. Asking after that name yielded no results, aside from the merchants who recognized it only as pertaining to you. By sheer luck, we eventually stumbled across a Roegadyn language scholar who knew the translation of her first name and directed us to an adventurer known as 'Fearless Willow', one of the Warriors of Light.

I am hoping the story of the Warriors of Light does not require an explanation for your lordship, but I will remind you that these people are slayers of godlike beings who regularly enslave the minds of mortals around them, have engaged massive numbers of Garlean soldiers and magitek armor, defeated Imperial Legatuses in single combat (including the Crown Prince), and decisively ended a thousand-year war between a dragon horde and the nation of Ishgard.

From there, we set out to determine if this woman and your daughter are one and the same. It is well known that one of the Warriors of Light is in fact a Roegadyn woman, but we needed to be certain. Adventurers are often well traveled and thanks to the Aetheryte network, difficult to track. Your descriptions were also primarily of the physical sort, which did not help, as appearances are easy enough to change.

We caught a break in speaking to one of the mercenary crews you'd previously hired. Many of them had been either entirely wiped or or reduced in numbers to the degree that they'd disbanded. What few remained refused to speak with us once it became clear who we were tracking. One particular mercenary of an Ala Mhigan band (known as the Graybear Den, which if you recall abruptly returned your payment and refused the contract) however, let slip some valuable information after our agents plied him with enough drink. Once he realized who we were speaking of, he grew agitated and swore he would never help us find 'the Warrior o' Light". It would seem the Graybears believe they owed a measure of loyalty to the Warriors of LIght for their instrumental parts in liberating their homeland.

It was, however, enough. Once we determined that your daughter and this Warrior of Light were in fact one and the same, we began looking for ways to isolate her and take her prisoner. Unfortunately this has proven extremely difficult. As they are involved in affairs that affect the entirety of the star, the Warriors of Light are often on the move, moreso than normal adventurers. Furthermore, as I have mentioned, they are peerless warriors, often in each other's company or those of their fellow Scions of the Seventh Dawn. If you don't know the order, suffice to say they are Warriors and Scholars both who labor on behalf of all peoples to defend the world against tyranny and false gods. They are exceptionally successful in this regard. The Scions often meet and collaborate with the leaders of various powers on this continent, who are often accompanied by their own soldiers or bodyguards.

We have remained patient however, and managed to catch a glimpse of her. As I mentioned was likely, she has extensively changed her appearance. Her hair is now of a longer cut and nearly all black, with only highlights of the teal you had mentioned remaining. She has also taken to wearing dark makeup.

We have also determined that unlike her fellow Warriors of Light, she does not dwell in the Scion's headquarters. Instead, she has taken to living in the Hingashi port city of Kugane, where she has a modest home in the district of the city reserved for foreigners.

Finally, and you may wish to brace her ladyship for this part, she does not live there alone. Our spies have reported that her home is occupied by two other women, and their observations of them interacting within the city indicates that the three of them are lovers

We believe that this is our best shot at capturing her, but the price for her return to you has just doubled.

You are doubtless shaking with rage, but you hired us to retrieve a woman that you led us to believe would provide minimal resistance. Even isolated from the other Scions in Kugane, we believe we will face extreme resistance in this job. For starters, your daughter has mastered several forms of combat, including the ways of the Hingashi samurai, the axe-masters of Abalathia's Spine, and the art of thaumaturgy. She is also known to wield the Sharlayan art of Astrology, and has mastered a form of dance from Radz-at-Han that wields circular blades with deadly precision.

Furthermore, Fearless Willow is a known and loved name within the borders of Kugane, despite being a foreigner in a city that remains neutral to all concerns beyond their borders. She was instrumental in aiding their geomancers in repelling an attack from a fox-like beast known as 'Kinko' and she also trained alongside the Sekiseigumi (the samurai order that enforces the laws of the city, brutally so) and helped them put down a rebellion from within their own ranks. One of her lovers is a high ranking member of the Sekiseigumi. The other is a member of her dance troupe who is on an extended tour in the city. She is every bit as deadly in the art as Fearless is.

The point is that, even isolated from the other Scions, many people will rush to her aid. We expect heavy resistance and significant losses. The original reward will not suffice to cover this.

We will not move forward with this operation until we have your confirmation of acceptance of the new price. And we suggest you hurry, as events brewing suggest your daughter will soon be called back to the fight, at which point it is impossible to tell when we will have another opportunity

Cmdr Guji Pokiji Chief Executive, Emerald Marauders  

Ahldblaet set the letter on his desk, shaking with rage as he looked to his wife."How DARE that miniscule INSECT think to extort us?? A Warrior of Light, indeed. As if our useless fool of a daughter has the brains to take on even one sort of combat discipline, much less five! How gullible does he THINK us to be?"

Usynwyda nodded, a disgusted sneer on her face. "The NERVE of her, to merely toss aside the name we chose for her, only to refer to herself in the....ugh...common tongue! Still, the name cannot be a coincidence. Whatever other lies that little gnat undoubtedly told, this is the best lead we have had on Syhrwyda since she ran away."

"It is. And if they are not all lies, then it is all the more imperative we retrieve her before word of any of this gets out among our enemies. The very idea that she would toss aside the husband we painstakingly chose for her after careful selection and delicate negotiation in favor of laying with another woman, much less two! I worried she would do stupid things, but this level of degeneracy, of abberance? It is unconscionable!"

Usynwyda shuddered. "We cannot let this get out. I can never face any of the ladies if they should learn my daughter has become no better than some...common whore. We must marry her off to the Greinmyrgan boy with all haste before she does any further damage to us, to the company."

Ahldblaet scribbled furiously. "I am already writing orders to have our ship made ready and for our elite guards to prepare for a journey. We will find her and we end this nonsense."

Far away, in Kugane, the Warrior of Light known as Fearless Willow shuddered as she prepared to fall asleep. She had no ping from the Echo, no signal from her finely honed danger sense to explain it, but she definitely felt as if trouble was heading her way, and no idea what it might be.

[mylesbyond]

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

In love and war Myles has experienced his fair share of hardships. The greatest lesson he was gifted from both were to always act in a timely manner. For a late response or call to action will result in the greatest regret. Those closest to the roegadyn would say they feel a veil of protection in his presence. A warmth similar to that burying yourself under an albino karakul fleece blanket in the dead of winter. Does he speak the words often? Probably not. The language of his heart isn't common tongue. He expresses 'I love you' with his actions, facial expressions, attentiveness and openness towards them.