#Shinorah Nightsbane

[erstwhile25]

Some couples make a big deal of couples photos, but these two hecks are just letting their enemies take care of it for them.  Amazing commission by the very talented Gailla ( @himeheishi)

[norahnightsbane]

Questions?  Ping me in game, Shinorah Nightsbane, or in Discord, Norah#0859.  Hope to see you there!

[heavens-light-and-hells-ice]

Ishgardian Orthodox wedding transcript

(( For the wedding of Rosaire Ledigne and Gwenneth Gilrouis, we attempted to create an “Ishgardian Orthodox feel” by adapting what we were able to find and translate of late medieval Catholic wedding customs, especially those from the Sarum Rite, with adjustments for game lore.

For those curious who were unable to attend or may be thinking of attempting similar projects in their own RP, below is a trimmed-and-edited transcript of the wedding for your reading pleasure, with ceremony parts in bold, plus select audience reactions. ))

Judielle Farendaire: "Lo, we assemble here for honoring, in the presence of Halone and all the saints, the joining together of two bodies, that of this man, Rosaire Ledigne, and this woman, Gwenneth Gilrouis, so that they may be made one body in the faith and law of the Fury."

Gwenneth Gilrouis steals a glance to her right, her own expression breaking into something that dispels the dumbstruck nervousness that had settled onto her face and shows instead a split second of unbridled joy -- and is that relief?  But, just as quickly as she’d dared to look, her attention is on Judielle again, all solemnity.

Judielle Farendaire: "Wherefore I admonish, by Halone, the Fury, all you present here, that if any among you there be who may know some lawful impediment to exist between these persons such that they may not be able to be joined together in lawful matrimony, let it now be openly declared and shown." 

Riven Pendragon flicks her gaze around, fingers flexing slightly. Kail Gerrad glances around the room at the last phrase, a dagger slipping out his sleeve...just in case. Gwenneth Gilrouis holds her breath despite herself, waiting. Judielle Farendaire blinks and narrows her gaze slightly on Kail in consternation. Martiallais Heuloix reaches over and gives Kail a nudge, shaking his head slightly.

Judielle Farendaire: "Likewise I admonish you both, as you will answer before Halone on the day you come before Her throne, that if either of you know any impediment such that you may not be lawfully joined together in matrimony, you now confess it." 

Kail Gerrad gives an innocent shrug, the dagger dissapearing as soon as it appeared. Gwenneth Gilrouis gives Judielle the slightest shake of her head, keeping her silence; smiling instead. Rosaire Ledigne breathes, drawing himself up tall, dignified. Azette Sejois smirks in approval towards Kail, then shifts her attention back to the couple-to-be.

Judielle Farendaire: "Let be displayed forthwith the license for solemnizing matrimony, exempted from the proclamation of banns, between the aforesaid Rosaire Ledigne and Gwenneth Gilrouis, in writing, with the seal of the Most Reverend Bishop, dated the twentieth sun of the Fourth Umbral Moon of the fifth year of the Seventh Astral Era." 

Judielle Farendaire: Judielle betrays a faint smile as she turns her gaze to Rosaire.  "Rosaire Ledigne, have you come here to enter into marriage freely and wholeheartedly, without coercion, to form a bond that lasts until death, and to accept the gift of children lovingly and to bring them up according to the law of Halone and Her Church?" 

Rosaire Ledigne: "I have." 

Judielle Farendaire: "Gwenneth Gilrouis, have you come here to enter into marriage freely and wholeheartedly, without coercion, to form a bond that lasts until death, and to accept the gift of children lovingly and to bring them up according to the law of Halone and Her Church?"

Gwenneth Gilrouis: "I have."

Judielle Farendaire: "Rosaire Ledigne, will you have this woman, Gwenneth Gilrouis, for your wife and spouse, and love and honor her, and keep and guard her, as a husband should a wife, and forsake all other women besides her and cleave to her alone, as long as you both shall live?" 

Rosaire Ledigne: "I will."

Judielle Farendaire: "Gwenneth Gilrouis, will you have this man, Rosaire Ledigne, for your spouse and husband, and love and honor him, obey and serve him, and keep him in sickness and in health, as a wife should a husband, and forsake and put away all men besides him and cleave to him alone, as long as you both should live?" 

Gwenneth Gilrouis draws in a breath; lets it out, staying the well of rising emotion.  "I will."

Judielle Farendaire smiles warmly to Gwenneth before saying, "As it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands and declare your consent before Halone and Her Church."

Rosaire Ledigne turns to Gwenneth to take her right hand gently in his. Again that staid expression dissolves, and he looks upon her with tenderness for a breathless moment before he summons the powers of speech.

Rosaire Ledigne: "I, Rosaire, take you, Gwenneth, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death us do part, if Holy Church will it ordain. And thereto I plight unto you my troth."

Shinorah Nightsbane nods a bit.

Gwenneth Gilrouis steps forward, extending her right hand and its barely perceptible trembling, and likewise, for much the same reasons, has trouble finding her words.  When she does, finally, they're given with an earnest smile.

Gwenneth Gilrouis: "I, Gwenneth, take you, Rosaire, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to be gentle and obedient in bed and at board, till death do us part, if Holy Church will it ordain. And thereto I plight unto you my troth." 

Judielle Farendaire: "May the Fury strengthen and bless the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what Halone has joined, no one may put asunder." 

Judielle Farendaire turns her gaze outwards to those assembled, outstretching her arms as she proclaims, "Let us praise the Fury."

Perrine Pepin: "Praise be to Halone." Martiallais Heuloix: "Praise be to Halone.:" Riven Pendragon: "Praise be to Halone." Keldorin Lumont: "Praise be to Halone." Aedos Valleritignon: "Praise be to Halone." Elliot Cadieux: "Praise be to Halone." Milloux Allard: "Praise be t' Halone." Brave Horizon's eye open wide. There was audience participation? Rosaire Ledigne remains in silent fascination, just looking at Gwenneth and smiling. Kail Gerrad glances around. Martiallais Heuloix simply nods. Seya Braisaux looks at her companion, Dogsbane. Shinorah Nightsbane: "Ah, so sayeth we all" Kail Gerrad: "Aye...what she said."

Rosaire Ledigne ... shakes it off, then turns back to Mother Judielle, producing for her inspection a small gold band. Such fine detail is likely visible only to her and to his bride, but etched on the surface is a motif of winding sweetbriar with roses in bloom.

Gwenneth Gilrouis stares up, wondering.  For a moment she seems about to say something, until she's jogged from her reverie and, from her own hand, passes toward Judielle a second, broad gold ring with care.

Judielle Farendaire smiles warmly to the both of them before procuring holy water, sprinkling it on both rings as she says, "Bless, O Fury, these rings, so that those who wear them may remain faithful to each other, abide in Your will, and live always in mutual charity. So may it be."

Keldorin Lumont: "So may it be." Aedos Valleritignon: "So may it be." Martiallais Heuloix: "So may it be." Perrine Pepin: "So may it be." Riven Pendragon: "So may it be." Seya Braisaux: "So may it be." Tristeaux Demorelle: "So may it be." Kail Gerrad: "So may it be." Milloux Allard: "So may it be." Shinorah Nightsbane: "So may it be" Azette Sejois hums something that sounds similar to those words. Brave Horizon: "S-so may it be," she says, a half beat later than everyone else.

Brave Horizon blushes and just decides to let the Ishgardians do all the talking from now on, she'll reply in her heart. 

Judielle Farendaire: "Rosaire, pray take the right hand of Gwenneth." 

Rosaire Ledigne ... can't... actually take Gwenneth's hand at the same he holds the ring, having only one good hand. So he simply extends the ring towards her; she must raise up her hand of her own accord to meet it.

Rosaire Ledigne: "With this ring I wed you, and this gold and silver I give you. And with my body I worship you, and with all my worldly goods I honor you."

Gwenneth Gilrouis blinks once, immobile as she watches her intended and...not quite getting the cue until the next moment when, lowering her eyes in a brief show of apology, she lifts her hand toward him. 

Rosaire Ledigne lowers his voice to a murmur as he touches the ring to her thumb; "In the name of Halone," and then to her index finger, "the Fury," and to the next finger, "and Her Blessed Spear," and then finally slides it onto her fourth finger, with her assistance: "So may it be."

Judielle Farendaire: "Gwenneth, pray take the right hand of Rosaire."

Gwenneth Gilrouis reaches up, taking one large hand in her very small own.

Rosaire Ledigne lowers his eyes, soft, to watch. 

Gwenneth Gilrouis: "With this ring I wed you, and with my body I worship you, and with all my worldly goods I honor you."

Gwenneth Gilrouis, with that same reverence, touches the ring to his thumb. "In the name of Halone.” She moves the ring to his index finger, "the Fury," she says, and then to his middle finger, "and Her Blessed Spear," and carefully works the ring onto his fourth finger and releases it with: "So may it be."

Judielle Farendaire turns her gaze to Rosaire expectantly.

Rosaire Ledigne spends a moment staring down at his hand before turning back to Mother Judielle, producing next a copy of the Enchiridion, its cover burnished and beautiful; a little clumsily, he balances it on his less-useful left hand while placing upon its cover two coins, one of silver and of gold. 

Judielle Farendaire solemnly sprinkles the coins of silver and of gold with holy water, proclaiming, "Bless, O Fury, these tokens that Rosaire will give to Gwenneth, and pour over them the abundance of your good gifts. So may it be."

Martiallais Heuloix: "So may it be." Aedos Valleritignon: "So may it be." Milloux Allard: "So may it be." Perrine Pepin: "So may it be." Elliot Cadieux: "So may it be." Kail Gerrad mutters in a lowered voice. Kail Gerrad: "What's with the coins?" Kail Gerrad: "oh and So may it be." Seya Braisaux: "So may it be." Riven Pendragon: "So may it be." Shinorah Nightsbane: "So may it be" Brave Horizon: "So may it be."

Rosaire Ledigne: "Gwenneth, receive these coins as a pledge of the Fury's blessing and a sign of the good gifts we will share."

Kail Gerrad: "Aaaaaaaah." Martiallais Heuloix nods slowly.

Gwenneth Gilrouis, out of reflex, reaches to assist, but stops herself just as she begins the motion, waiting instead to receive the book.

Rosaire Ledigne extends the Enchiridion to Gwenneth.

Gwenneth Gilrouis takes it with a held breath, not trusting her own hands, perhaps, and the faintest laugh escapes her when she doesn't allow it to topple to the floor.

Judielle Farendaire: "Let us pray."

Martiallais Heuloix lowers his head.

Rosaire Ledigne takes his cane into his right hand once again to help him make his way down onto the floor. Once kneeling, he lays it down beside him, then looks up at Judielle -- and then past her, towards the statue of Halone, in solemn piety.

Gwenneth Gilrouis sinks to her knees, the layers of her gown spread around her.

Judielle Farendaire raises her arms outstretched as the bride and groom kneel, proclaiming, "O Halone, Blessed Fury, Mother of Coerthas, Savior of Ishgard: grant Your blessing upon these, Your servants, this man and this woman, so that they might be armed with the power of Your heavenly protection and uphold the covenant."

Judielle Farendaire: "Bless, O Fury, this ring and this vow, so that they may ever abide in love and harmony and obedience to Your laws, and that through them Your will be done and the holiness of Your domain ever increased. So may it be."

Brave Horizon frowns at poor Rosaire being forced to kneel.

Judielle Farendaire joins the right hands of Rosaire and Gwenneth, saying, "Those whom Halone has joined together, let no man put asunder."

Judielle Farendaire raises her gaze once more to those assembled.

Judielle Farendaire: "Forasmuch as this man Rosaire desires this woman Gwenneth to be his wife in the Fury, and this woman Gwenneth desires this man Rosaire to be her husband in the Fury, and one has made the other a promise of holy matrimony, and have now both professed the same openly, and have confirmed it with the giving of rings to each other and the joining of hands: I pronounce that they be joined together with lawful and Halonic matrimony, and I confirm this, their marriage, in the name of Halone, the Fury."

Elliot Cadieux is pretty much ready to cry. Gwenneth Gilrouis' hand still quivers, though the man who is to be her husband may feel the light pressure of her holding on a little more tightly than she needs as she raises her other hand, briefly, to her eyes. Mandalina Bouchard isn't crying YOU'RE CRYING. Rosaire Ledigne squeezes back very gently, looking at her with a slight, crooked smile.

Judielle Farendaire raises her right hand in front of her, motioning the sign of the Fury's Spear as she proclaims, "Halone bless, preserve, and keep you; the Fury turn Her gracious countenance upon you and so fill you with all spiritual benediction, for the remission of sins, that you may so live together in this life and in the world to come. So may it be."  She cannot help but smile for the both of them.

Milloux Allard watched the two silently, guarded expression softening some and a smile forming, as she glanced between them.

Rosaire Ledigne takes up his cane again and uses it to push himself to his feet. It's a bit of a struggle, especially dressed, as he is, in his best finery; but he's practiced, and he manages, with considerable effort and a bit of worrying sway.

Brave Horizon pulls out a handkerchief and begins mopping up her leaking eyes. Perrine Pepin rises, her eyes on Rosaire, but he's got this! On his own! Good job! Aedos Valleritignon hops to Gwenneth's side to help her rise. Martiallais Heuloix likewise seems to be eyeing Rosaire but gives an approving nod when he rises under his own strength.

Judielle Farendaire turns to the opened doors of the main body of the cathedral and begins to walk forward in the full solemnity of the occasion. 

Gwenneth Gilrouis moves to rise, unwilling to release Rosaire’s hand, at first, but begrudgingly does so to allow him the easier mobility of rising up.  She casts a quick glance to Perrine, and then to Aedos, murmuring her gratitude as the knight helps her to her feet. 

Rosaire Ledigne comes up to his place at the right, looking first upon the statue of Halone and then towards Gwenneth, resting a rapt gaze on her, drinking deeply of this sight.

Elliot Cadieux || A psalm sung by a chorus echos throughout the hall as the assembly enters the sanctuary.

Elliot Cadieux: ♪ "Blessed are they that fear the Fury and walk in Her ways."

Elliot Cadieux: ♪ "For thou shalt eat the labors of thine hands; O well is thee, and happy shalt thou be."

Elliot Cadieux: ♪ "Thy wife shall be as the fruitful vine upon the walls of thine house,"

Elliot Cadieux: ♪ "Thy children like fruiting branches round about thy table."

Elliot Cadieux: ♪ "Lo, thus shall the man be blessed that feareth the Fury."

Elliot Cadieux: ♪ "The Fuy in the First Heaven shall so bless thee, that thou shalt see Her mountain in prosperity all thy life long;"

Elliot Cadieux: ♪ "Yea, that thou shalt see thy children's children, and peace upon the land."

Rosaire Ledigne lowers himself to the floor once more, a little less gracefully this time.

Gwenneth Gilrouis takes a moment, once she stops, to catch her breath.  Watching Judielle, and in a mirror of Rosaire, looking to Halone -- though with the strange suggestion of a question on her face, before her gaze drifts to the right, where it stays on the groom as she sinks to the floor again.

Judielle Farendaire glances down to Rosaire with a twinge of a frown of concern. 

Judielle Farendaire raises her arms as she proclaims, "Halone, have mercy upon us," keeping them held aloft.

Aedos Valleritignon: "Fury, have mercy upon us." Rosaire Ledigne: "Fury, have mercy upon us." Martiallais Heuloix: "Fury, have mercy upon us." Elliot Cadieux: " Fury, have mercy upon us." Keldorin Lumont: "Fury, have mercy upon us." Perrine Pepin: "Fury, have mercy upon us." Gwenneth Gilrouis's static smile wavers into a rather obvious show of concern...which shifts to wordless encouragement.  "Fury, have mercy upon us." Kail Gerrad: "Woman leave us be." Milloux Allard: "Fury, 'ave mercy upon us." Martiallais Heuloix gives a quiet exhale. Riven Pendragon: "Fury have mercy upon us."

Judielle Farendaire: "Save Your servant and Your handmaid,"

Rosaire Ledigne: "Who put their trust in You." Aedos Valleritignon: "Who put their trust in You." Martiallais Heuloix: "Who put their trust in You." Martiallais Heuloix: "Who put their trust in You." Gwenneth Gilrouis: "Who put their trust in You." Perrine Pepin: "Who put their trust in You." Keldorin Lumont: "Who put their trust in You." Riven Pendragon: "Who put their trust in You."

Judielle Farendaire: "Send them help, O Fury, from Your Heaven,"

Rosaire Ledigne: "And evermore defend them." Keldorin Lumont: "And evermore defend them." Aedos Valleritignon: "And evermore defend them." Perrine Pepin: "And evermore defend them." Martiallais Heuloix: "And evermore defend them." Riven Pendragon: "And evermore defend them." Seya Braisaux: "And evermore defend them." Gwenneth Gilrouis: "And evermore defend them." Azette Sejois rubs her forehead at the prayer, hand shaking a little. Milloux Allard: "An' evermore defend them."

Judielle Farendaire: "Be upon them a tower of strength,"

Rosaire Ledigne: "From the face of their enemy." Keldorin Lumont: "From the face of their enemy." Aedos Valleritignon: "From the face of their enemy." Gwenneth Gilrouis: "From the face of their enemy." Seya Braisaux: "From the face of their enemy." Martiallais Heuloix: "From the face of their enemy." Milloux Allard: "From th' face of their enemy." Riven Pendragon: "From the face of their enemy." Perrine Pepin: "From the face of their enemy."

Judielle Farendaire: "Halone, hear our prayer."

Rosaire Ledigne: "And let our cry come unto You." Aedos Valleritignon: "And let our cry come unto You." Kail Gerrad mutters under his breath. "We've got yer back m'dear." Keldorin Lumont: "And let our cry come unto You." Gwenneth Gilrouis: "And let our cry come unto You." Martiallais Heuloix: "And let our cry come unto You." Perrine Pepin: "And let our cry come unto You." Shinorah Nightsbane nods in agreement and squeezes his hand. Milloux Allard: "An' let our cry come unto You." Brave Horizon shifts uncomforably as the prayer is recited.

Rosaire Ledigne bows his head. At the same time, one of the assistants steps forward, holding a pure white cloth. As he drapes it over the bride, it billows, covering her body entirely; the end he drapes over the groom's shoulders, partly covering him as well. 

Judielle Farendaire: "O Halone, O Fury, bless these Your children, and sow the seed of salvation in their hearts, that whatsoever they may learn for their betterment, they strive to fulfill in deed. Look, O Halone, down from heaven, and bless them, that they, obeying Your will, ever be under Your protection and abide in Your love unto their lives' end. So may it be." 

Gwenneth Gilrouis bows her head as well, allowing the cloth to fall over her; she holds her breath, her eyes welling as she stares down at the floor at her knees.

Judielle Farendaire: "O Fury, look favorably upon Your servant and Your handmaid. Let them receive the blessing of the Heavenly One, so their children to the third and fourth generations may be piously and virtuously brought up to Your praise and honor, and to do Your bidding on earth. So may it be."

Judielle Farendaire: "O Fury, grant unto Your servant and Your handmaid Your righteousness, that both this man may love his wife as You love Your people, defending and cherishing them, and also that this woman may be loving and amiable, faithful and chaste. O Fury, bless them, so that they may reach Your Heaven and join Your blessed. So may it be."

Judielle Farendaire: "Almighty Fury, pour upon Your servants the riches of Your grace, and sanctify and bless them, so that they may please You in both body and soul and in true love live together unto their lives' end. So may it be."

Rosaire Ledigne raises his head as the attendant lifts the veil off the couple. He picks up his cane to lever himself up onto his feet once more -- he may be tiring, for this time the procedure is much more laborious, and he grunts a bit trying to lift and steady his appreciable weight. But he manages neither to collapse nor to topple over backwards, even though his face in the dim candlelight has grown a bit sweaty.

Gwenneth Gilrouis releases the shuddering breath she'd been holding as the veil is removed from over her, and rises, slowly and half in a daze.

Judielle Farendaire offers Rosaire a reassuring smile. Perrine Pepin subtly shifts forward, ready but again not needed. Rosaire Ledigne returns the smile with what was probably intended to be a smile but looks more of an uncomfortable grimace.

Judielle Farendaire raises her arms once more, proclaiming, "May Halone, the Fury, keep you of one heart in love for one another."

Rosaire Ledigne: "So may it be." Aedos Valleritignon: "So may it be." Martiallais Heuloix: "So may it be." Perrine Pepin: "So may it be." Gwenneth Gilrouis: "So may it be," she whispers. Riven Pendragon: "So may it be." Tristeaux Demorelle: "So may it be." Kail Gerrad: "So may it be." Shinorah Nightsbane: "So may it be" Seya Braisaux: "So may it be." Judielle Farendaire: "May you be blessed in your children, have solace in your friends, and live in harmony with all Her people."

Rosaire Ledigne: "So may it be." Martiallais Heuloix: "So may it be." Perrine Pepin: "So may it be." Aedos Valleritignon: "So may it be." Seya Braisaux: "So may it be." Gwenneth Gilrouis: "So may it be." Keldorin Lumont: "So may it be."

Brave Horizon: "So may it be." Tristeaux Demorelle: "So may it be." Milloux Allard: "So may it be."

Judielle Farendaire: "May you ever be the instrument of Her spear and see justice done, so that all worthy may enter Her Halls."

Martiallais Heuloix: "So may it be." Rosaire Ledigne: "So may it be." Keldorin Lumont: "So may it be." Aedos Valleritignon: "So may it be." Perrine Pepin: "So may it be." Riven Pendragon: "So may it be." Tristeaux Demorelle: "So may it be." Gwenneth Gilrouis: "So may it be." Seya Braisaux: "So may it be." Kail Gerrad: "So may it be." Shinorah Nightsbane: "So may it be"

Judielle Farendaire: "And may all of you who are gathered here be blessed, by Halone, the Fury, and Her Blessed Spear."

Aedos Valleritignon: "So may it be." Keldorin Lumont: "So may it be." Martiallais Heuloix: "So may it be." Rosaire Ledigne: "So may it be." Brave Horizon: "So may it be." Perrine Pepin: "So may it be." Seya Braisaux: "So may it be." Gwenneth Gilrouis: "So may it be." Tristeaux Demorelle: "So may it be." Martiallais Heuloix dips his head in a nod, at that. Azette Sejois growls at that final statement and looks away from the priest. Aedos Valleritignon touches a hand from her forehead to her chest. Shinorah Nightsbane shifts a bit in her seat, smiling politely. Riven Pendragon: "So may it be."

Judielle Farendaire glance between Rosaire and Gwenneth with a wide smile before finally bidding all assembled, "Go in peace, sons and daughters of Halone, and by your deeds, bring Her honor and glory."

Martiallais Heuloix: "Praise be to Halone." Elliot Cadieux: "Praise be to Halone." Perrine Pepin: "Praise be to Halone." Keldorin Lumont: "Praise be to Halone." Aedos Valleritignon: "Praise be." Brave Horizon: "So m--praise be to Halone." Gwenneth Gilrouis: "Praise....praise be to Halone." Kail Gerrad: "Luck t'yer house." Riven Pendragon: "Praise be to Halone."

Rosaire Ledigne remains silent, turning to Gwenneth, a slight, uneven, but perfectly contented smile on his face. His hand cannot take hers, gripping tight to his cane, but he offers her his elbow instead. Gwenneth Gilrouis beams her gratitude at Judielle, bowing her head low before turning that bright, unbridled smile to Rosaire, and takes the offered elbow. Aedos Valleritignon claps for Rosaire Ledigne. Kail Gerrad claps for Gwenneth Gilrouis. Martiallais Heuloix claps. Riven Pendragon claps. Gwenneth Gilrouis beams with delight at Martiallais Heuloix. Milloux Allard claps for Gwenneth Gilrouis. Martiallais Heuloix nods to Gwenneth Gilrouis. Azette Sejois claps for Gwenneth Gilrouis. Martiallais Heuloix nods to Gwenneth Gilrouis. Azette Sejois claps for Gwenneth Gilrouis. Rosaire Ledigne spends another moment gazing at Gwenneth with that quietly awestruck look, then turns and starts to make his way out, steps slow not chiefly for practicality, but to savor the moment they are in. Aedos Valleritignon claps for Gwenneth Gilrouis. Brave Horizon nods to Arcian. She claps for the newlyweds, then reaches for her hankey again and just uses it to cover her face when she starts to openly sob. Judielle Farendaire looks on with a warm smile, breathing a quiet sigh of relief now that her first performing of matrimony, especially between two grown dear to her, has met its happy end. Gwenneth Gilrouis keeps her eyes ahead -- or at least, she tries; recalling something of a superstition.  But she spares a smile out toward the crowd, and the next up, overly-fond, toward her husband, keeping pace with him as they depart.

   (( The ceremony text was mainly “written” by me, with invaluable additions and help from the players of Gwenneth Gilrouis-now-Ledigne (@rose-in-the-stone), Perrine Pepin (@halonic), and Judielle Farendaire (@judiellefarendaire).

I pieced it together from various sources, mainly The Book of Common Prayer, a version of which is available free online. An extremely useful guide was Maggie Forest's personal article "Pro Sponso et Sponsa". I also adapted some text from a notarial record by Richard Watkins describing Katherine Parr's marriage, Latin translated by Janel Mueller in Katherine Parr: Complete Works & Correspondence. Various stages of a real-world Catholic wedding, either modern or period, were omitted for time considerations, because I did not feel comfortable FFXIV-izing them, or because we don't yet have adequate information about whether analogous rituals exist in Ishgardian Orthodoxy.

Special thanks to Judielle for coming in to play the officiant on short notice, Elliot Cadieux ( @theseventhdawn ) for handling the psalm and taking many screenshots for us (the second one above is his!), as well as all who attended or who wished to attend but were unable, including @erstwhile25, @scrollsfromarebornrealm, @mythrilreflections, @coerthanrobin, @elezenaccountant, @tinycatteandfriends, @bourgeoisfury, @snarksonomy, @brave-horizon, @arcianmartell, @necrologos, @faerie-apples, @dravanian, @elezendad, and @tonberryslantern. ))

[erstwhile25]

Skin of the Teeth Part 3: Danger Lurks

“I’ll tell you this Gerrad…” said the minute Lalafel called Laloquer “...wherever you go, you have the distinct habit of picking up strays.  Mangy ones at that.”

“I seem t’remember a rather mangy bunch haulin themselves from the sea once, they didn't do too bad fer themselves.” Kail gently laid the last of the wounded in the hold. A small girl no heavier than a sack of potatoes, her blonde hair tinged a dirty scarlet by a head wound, and the remnant of someone’s shirt bound tightly about her left eye and the back of her skull.  By some small mercy she was unconscious and elicited only the occasional whimper, but that seemed to be where the world’s mercy ended.  If Kail was any judge, she'd lose the eye before the day was out.

Laloquer gave a disdainful sniff as he walked among the other wounded, scribbling down notes for triage in chalk on a piece of slate. “I don't remember much of them to be honest, I find it best to look ever towards the future, leave the past where it belongs...in the past.”

“How very practical of ye.” Said Kail, dry as the Thanland sands “While yer peeking at the future, think ye could make sure this lot has one?”

Kail hadn't met many folks that could twirl their mustache and not look like utter fools, but Lalo was among their number.  The Lalafel’s pomp was rivaled only by the care that he lavished upon his immaculately waxed and trimmed facial hair. “Put your worries at ease, under my care their survival is all but assured.”

Norah nudged the small doctor aside none too gently as she bustled past with a bucket of sea water and a rag. “A little less talk perhaps and a little more action then?  They will applaud for you when they are standing upright I'm sure.”

If Norah noticed Lalo’s scathing look of reproach, she didn't let onto it, rather she knelt by the girl to begin the business of cleaning and redressing her wounds.  Kail watched Lalo stalk off to begin his work, then crouched next to Norah, remaining tactfully silent as she mopped dried blood from the child’s forehead.

“I'm not apologizing to him, these people need help.”  She uttered under her breath.  Kail gave a small smile, slipping a folded sack under the girl’s head for support,  

“He likes Gridania rosés, I'll introduce ye t’my supplier...ye don't have t’apologize, jest pour.”  

Norah nodded, her face a stony mask of a duty unfinished, Kail could see she was forcing herself to keep looking at the girl.  He laid his hand on hers, despite the blood and filthy water, giving it a slight squeeze.  She looked up and though there was no smile on her face she seemed to come out of whatever torturous spiral she had been putting herself through.  “We’re getting them out of here.” She said horsely, it was a deceleration of fact, and there was no moving her on the matter.

“Aye.” Said Kail, he took a breath preparing himself for the argument coming. “Ye sure ye want t’go with Baroth and the others?  No one would call ye a coward iffin ye stayed.”

Norah frowned at him, and yanked her hand from his, flinging the rag forcefully in the bucket.  “They wouldn't have to, I would damn myself as a coward if I didn't.  They are my countrymen, and I won't abandon them.”

“We wouldn't be abandoning them, we’re coming back fer them.”

“Would you trust Baroth to get them to those islands?”

He threw his hands wide, and his voice took on a sharper edge “Funny ye should mention that, I don't trust him, not with their lives, nor yers fer that matter.”

“I can handle him, so trust me.”  She gently reached out and brought his hands together and between them  “Please.”

He didn't answer right away, he didn't particularly care to, some part of him rankled that these weak, dirty, frightened people had more of a hold on her than he did.  It told him it would be easier to simply slit the throats of Baroth and company then leave without a glance behind them. They would still be saving the wounded, those on the beach could take care of themselves.  They would be finishing the job within their contractual obligation.  Who was to judge them for not being able to stretch further?

“Kail?” Norah’s voice dragged him out of that small corner of his mind.  He was made aware of a pain in his cheek, where he had bitten the inside.  The iron taste of blood was on his tongue.  Norah’s face was knit both in concern and discernment. “You...went somewhere else on me.”

“I'm fine, I'll see how they’re doing on gettin the boats ready fer the trip back.”

He released her hands, and made for the stairs to the deck before he could change his mind on the matter.  All the way up he could feel her eyes on him.  

A few of Baroth’s men were huffing away in a fireman’s line to get goods from the hold onto the first of the boats.  They were struggling to keep up with Noyra, who tossed barrels and packages from below with the steady and inevitable chug of a steam engine.  Baroth leaned against the railing off to the side, his eyes were fixed upon those back on the shores.  Kail perched himself off to the side of the man, producing his flask, and finally giving in to the yearning of his guts for a drink.  

The sweet burn was a welcome one, and while it didn't drown out all the noise within and without, it dulled them to a low buzz he could manage.

“That...is the look of a man who’s been fighting with the wife.” Kail took another sip to try and drown out the smug undertones in Baroth’s voice.  He kept his eyes to the shore, and let a hefty silence roll though before he trusted himself enough to answer the man.

“Yer half right, which is about yer speed.”

“...Fuck you.”

Kail found himself smirking, clearing the air tended to have that effect.  He didn't have to look at the gruff highlander to feel the man’s pale blue eyes on him, scrutinizing him like a rider would a bought horse.  “Why are you here Limsan?”

First paramour, then pirate, then Limsan, Kail was starting to wonder if the man actually knew his damned name.  Finally glancing over to eye Baroth in return, Kail said “Came out t’make sure ye left my ship like ye got on it, quickly, painlessly, and quietly.”

Baroth shook his head, waving a hand towards the shore. “No.  I mean why are you here, helping us?  I've given it some thought...and Taltov wasn't paying you much, at least not enough to warrant all this trouble.  Clearly you’re not a supporter of the cause.”

“Ye’ve a roundabout way of asking why I ent twisted the knife in yer guts yet.”

Baroth winced as if he had been slapped, and in the instant of his embarrassment Kail could see he wasn't as old or as experienced as he made out to others.  His scowling bearded face was a front, a sham, a glamour he enacted so that those who followed him wouldn't be let on to the inconvenient fact that he wasn't cut out for command.  Kail accidentally found himself respecting the man a little for it, and wondered if he would have done anything different in the Mhigan’s position.

“ That was spoken in haste...and unfair of me.” Baroth finally said.  

Reminding himself that it had also been an attempt to steal the Rook, Kail offered the man his flask nonetheless.  Everyone had their turn playing the fool after all.  Baroth frowned for a moment, looking like the flask might bite him, then after consideration finally took the old and dented vessel.  As he sipped from it, Kail finally spoke up.

“This ent a ship oh fools, and we know how t’read more than the tides.  Varis is fresh to the throne, and it don't matter iffin yer a captain or emperor, first thing ye do is make sure those under ye know who’s in charge.  Fer Varis?  That means puttin down the rebellions in Ala Mhigo and Doma, an returnin the Empire t’the expansion days.  It suits me fine t’help ye stick pins in his royal Nibs’ arse, cause I don't like our prospects in a Garlean controlled Eorzea.”

“So that’s all this is…” said a very stony faced Baroth, as he took another sip from the flask. “Looking after your prospects.”

“No…” Said Kail as he reached over and snatched his flask back “But that’s all yer gettin.”

He capped the flask and stowed it back into his vest, ignoring the souring look from Baroth.  The first boat was almost finished loading, Noyra was climbing her way up the hold netting with the last barrel on her shoulder.  Kail made his way over, and while the Roe towered over him and outweighed him by well over a two hundred stone, he leaned over and made the mummery of helping her back onto the deck.  Noyra gave him a wide grin once she was back on her feet, then gave him a thump on the shoulder that would have brought him to his knees if he wasn't ready for it.  

It was during this exchange, with the eyes of the deck upon them, that they talked.  They spoke without voice.

It had started after Noyra’s throat injury, by some twisted blessing, a stroke meant to end her life had only taken her voice.  She had recovered well enough, she had always been a strong healer, but never again would Noyra be able to utter another word.  It was Laloquer who had come up with the solution.  Working together he and Noyra came up with a system of speech that used the entire body, not just the mouth and tongue.  After all, he had argued, the mouth and the tounge were the most superfical parts of language anyhow.  The most profound signals came from the eyes, the set of your feet, and the cant of your head.

It wasn't perfect, the more complex the word or concept, the more movements it needed, and there were still yet more words that Lalo and Noyra needed to assign.  Still, it was quick, efficient, and it allowed the survivors of the Howling Sin to do something few knew how to do.  To have a private conversation while the rest of the world looked on.

What's your measure of his men? Said Kail with a flick of his fingers, his eyes cautiously flicking towards the handful of armed fellows they had allowed Baroth.

They are strong, hardy, and tested. She replied with a sweep of her hand down the front of her clothes, that to anyone else, looked like she was dusting herself off.  But they don't respect him, and hardly know one another.

He nodded, and hooked his thumbs into his belt. I think they’ll leave peacefully, but be ready for the worst.

With a slight nod of her head she brushed past him to the long boat.  

He joined Baroth again at the railing, offering the man a brief smile.  “That’s the last of what we can offer ye lot.  Wish it could be more but…”

“Wish in one hand..” muttered Baroth.

“That's the long and short oh it aye…”  Kail reached over, offering the man his tattooed hand.  For a moment it looked like Baroth would shake it, but then everything went to hell.  

There was a sudden pop that echoed out over the bay from the beach, for a moment Kail was worried someone had been shot, but when he looked back to the forest line he saw what it was.  In the beginning grey of the dawn horizon, a lone red flare was arcing into the sky.  The kind of flare used to signal airships.  Kail flicked his eyes towards Baroth, and there must have been some sort of accusation burning there, because the highlander quickly rose both his hands in the air.

“That...that’s not us, none of my boys brought flares….why would they?”

Kail gave it a moment’s thought before nodding and placing a hand on Baroth’s shoulder.  “I believe ye.”

Then, quick as blinking, Kail sank a fist right into the middle of the man.  Baroth sank to his knees with a wheezing hiss, the air driven from his lungs as surely as if sucked away by a bellows.  Kail didn't give him a chance to recover, hooking an arm under the man chest and twisting, he hurled him neatly over his hip, and into the waiting waters below.

To their credit, the two of Baroth’s men nearest to the scuffle already had their swords out by the time he hit the water, but it took less time than that for Noyra to walk right up behind them and smash their skulls together.  As she deposited their unconscious forms into the loaded longboat, what remained of the Resistance on the Rook looked at each other, unsure as to their next course of action.  When the rest of the Rook’s crew simultaneously drew their weapons and pointed the mass of blades and barrels towards the Resistance members, their confusion dried up.

“Get off my ship.” Said Kail plainly and without malice.  “Get yer people t’safety best ye can.  We’ll take care oh our end.”

One of the Resistance apparently hadn't made the line the day they were handing out smarts, he sputtered as a cutlass nudged him towards the long boat  “What about the other boats?  There’s only one ready to launch.”

“Best ye get on it then, cause it ain’t stayin long.”  Said Kail as he drew one of his long curved daggers and began sawing at one of the securing lines.  Those on the long boat grasped his meaning and scrambled to grab for purchase.  With a whip crack snap the securing line parted and the long boat, cargo and all, plunged for the waters below.  There was a terrific splash as it hit the water, and miraculously didn't shatter upon impact, a testament to Limsan ship building.

Two of the Resistance members hadn't been quick enough and were thrown into the waters during the landing, when they surfaced coughing and sputtering, they had Baroth in between them.  As soon as Baroth had enough air in his lungs, he began hurling curses about treacherous pirates and the woman slattern enough to bare them.  Kail was only half listening however, there was a sudden dull whine in the air, distorted by the sea water and the echoing qualities of the bay.  

Shoving aside confused crew he forced his way across the deck to the bowsprit, where he began scanning the horizon with his spy glass.  It didn't take long to spot it, nothing had an outline quite like a Garlean gunship.  From the sound of her cerulean engines she was still a ways off, but she was faster than any sea bound ship to be sure, and now she had the scent of the Rook.  Kail spat a curse as he snapped his spyglass shut, glancing behind him to see the entirety of the crew looking at him.

Isral spoke up from among their number “R’haji?  What do we do?”

Kail looked about at the expectant multitude of faces, among their number was Norah, and he wondered how much of that exchange she had seen.  He supposed he should have been glad she hadn't dove over the side after the Resistance, yet there was something in her expression of shock...was it blame?  Resentment?  He didn't have time to discern, the others were still waiting for an answer.  So he gave it.

“Get this ship turned about ye scabrous currs! We’re runnin!”

[erstwhile25]

Skin of the Teeth Part 2: Whereupon there is Treachery.

The longboats sliced through the waters of the bay, their paddles dipped into the water in practiced synchronization, creating a strange metronome with the slap of the waves against their hulls.  Kail found it oddly soothing, a strange bit of order leading into what would no doubt eventually be chaos.  He pushed the thought aside though and focused on his own task, he tuned out distractions, and took the world in.  

It was a moonless night, and while the stars were out, their light was simply swallowed by the dark frigid waters of the bay.  Kail had forbid lanterns out on the water, they were in a city state policed by military airships and any light on the ground in this pitch black was a beacon for miles from the air.  Still the bay had its reefs and sand bars, and those were just the things that didn’t come looking for trouble, so the away crew needed some sort of guide through the dark waters. 

Kail tried not to be too smug about it as he gave hand signals that the other boats behind his followed into safety.  There was something deliciously savory about being able to see in the dark where others were blind.  True, his eyepatch with it’s hidden aetheric lenses did all the work, but small details like that never stopped him from taking the credit before.  

Eventually the shore came into his view, the lenses in his eyepatch layered Norah and the pack of resistance waiting behind her in a soft silver corona. He couldn’t see her face from here, but he knew from the set of her feet and square of her shoulders that she was just as nervous as he.  He knocked on the boats hull, a signal for them to pick up the pace, and then motioned to the trailing boats to pull up alongside his.  

Noyra and Syf had come along at his request, each at the head of their own longboat.  Noyra the Roegadyn was hunched over in an attempt to make herself smaller, it would have been funnier Kail supposed, had it been anyone else.  He was familiar with people who were uncomfortable in their bodies, who did everything they could to shape or mold the container they had been cursed with until their dying days, in some small attempt to fit it to its interior.  Noyra at one point had been at such war with her own body.  

She had been big as a child, taller than the rest of them to be sure, but when her adult growth hit her, words like “tall” and “big” simply stopped applying her.  Even among the Roe she was considered huge, freakishly so, and as far as the gentle girl was concerned, it didn’t fit her in the slightest.  She had done everything in her power to resist her growth, from potions to acupuncture, but it was like fighting the tide.  The low had come when Kail and the others had found her trying to take a hammer to her feet.  Currently she was at something of an armistice with her size, and the others were sure that being out on the sea helped.  This was evidenced when she offered Kail a slight wave and a smile that showed very white teeth from her boat.  Then she went back to taking delicate bites of an apple that looked like a peach pit between her large digits.  

Syf was another story.  It had never been a question of Syf being comfortable with herself, but of the world being comfortable with Syf.  Hers was a form of deceptive slenderness with the truth etched under her tatters and leathers in the same network of scars that all the survivors of the Howling Sin shared.  Syf however sported a wound from that fated night that set her apart from the others, and it wasn’t her missing eyes.  The Midlander was putting a razor edge on the long blade of her wickedly hooked fishing spear, the charms and shells in her grey dreadlocks gave dry whispers and rattles with each stroke.  The strokes kept in time with the paddle dips into the water, and Kail could see her lips moving, over the sound of the rowing came her faint singing. It was a popular shanty back on the docks called “Johnny and Mercy” and Syf’s sweet soprano was doing it a particular justice, at least until you listened to the lyrics.  In the original version of the song Mercy, a sweet and unassuming woman, was on the docks looking for her sweet sailor Johnny.  All the while she is being led on a merry chase by sailors who knew what men do when they came to port.  In Syf’s version, Mercy guts Johnny by the third verse and spends the next four making him beg for mercy…pun intended.

Kail had been attempting for some time to ask Isral just what he had said or done to retrieve the woman from her haunt of the coast near Sharlayan, where apparently she had made life hell for any slaver that stopped in the area long enough to clear their throats.   Isral’s obfuscation of self was unfortunately second only to his ability to deflect questions, and whenever Kail broached the subject, he found himself instead talking of something else.  Kail couldn’t argue with results though, not but a few weeks after Isral set out, he came back with Syf eager for action.  Kail just hoped that eagerness would work for them instead of against them.  

He was rocked gently from this line of thought as the boats nudged their way onto shore and the crew, began stowing the oars.  Norah was already walking forward, with the Resistance fighters and refugees waiting warily by the wagons.  Her normally serene and polite demeanor was warped slightly by a fierce furrow of the brow, and a set to her jaw that Kail knew all too well, she had been recently arguing with someone.  So much for the picturesque twirling embrace of a reunion.  

They met one another halfway, and in lieu of a passionate pressing of their bodies against one another, forced themselves to be satisfied with a clasping of the hands and a meeting of the eyes.  Words would come, but for the few moments they would be alone, they allowed themselves the simple and sublime relief that came with knowing the other was still whole.  Kail found comfort he didn’t know he had, and the ill rest of the night seemed to simply wash away in the face of it.  He saw the same reaction in Norah’s face and she on his, the simultaneous recognition caused a small, almost embarrassed smile to tug at their lips.  

Unfortunately they were unable to wear it for long, for time was marching on.  With the care of picking a lock, Kail broke the silence. “Yer brother?” “Alive.”  She said, some of her previous relief leaking into her voice. “It was close, too close some might say, we…” she cast a glance back towards some of the wagons “we had to come to blows with the local constabulary to stop the execution.  There were casualties, and we have wounded, he’s among them.” Kail gave a grim nod, some of the Resistance had entertained the notion that this might have been done without shedding blood, he’d had his reservations.  "Lalo can take a look at them, he’s as good as any chirurgeon back in Ishgard, better than iffin ye ask him.“ She kept her eyes on the wagons a moment longer before nodding herself "Kail, there’s something el..” “You’re late!” Interrupted a gruff voice behind her.  A handful of the Resistance had broken off from the others, at their head was a muscled specimen of the Highland persuasion.  Kail remembered him from the planning sessions for this mission.  His name was Baroth, and he’d struck Kail as someone who had been an angry individual before the world had seasoned him with a lifetime of humiliation and sedition.  Time had not improved his sense of humor.   Originally Baroth had been second in command of this resistance cell, and had been kept in check by an older man named Taltov, who had been level-headed, patient, and smart.  The sort of revolutionary leader that died early and often.  True to form Taltov was no where to be seen, and Kail took that by the way Baroth stalked forward, his field promotion hadn’t been a pleasant affair. “Took you a damned era to get those boats loaded and out here, we’ve got woun…” “He’s aware of our situation Baroth, and he’s here.” Norah did the interrupting this time, biting off the last word with a clipped intensity that matched the heated glare she threw Baroth’s way.  Kail couldn’t help waggling his eyebrows over her shoulder at the newly minted Resistance leader, which earned him a black look from the man.  As tempted as he was to smart off, Kail reminded himself that this man, along with every refugee there, was coming to the end of a very long day.  So he bit back his bile and got to business.   “Unclench those teeth lad, get the wounded t'the boats and we’ll start ferryin them over t'the Rook.  The less time we spend out on the shore the better.”   Baroth shook his head curtly and patted the hanging sword on his belt.  "My self and the few that can still lift blades will be going over first.“ Kail blinked, and for a moment thought he hadn’t heard the man right, or had lost his grasp on the common tongue.  Norah gave voice to his thoughts. "You just said it yourself Borath, we’ve those who need a doctor’s care soon, they should be the first on the Rook!” “This isn’t the first time the Resistance has dealt with pirates like your paramour Lady Shin.” He narrowed his eyes at Kail, and for a moment Kail felt fancy, it wasn’t every day someone called him a paramour. “They’re all smiles and simplicity when the deal is being struck, but once they have your back to the wall, they find a knife to twist into your gut.  If I send our wounded first they’ll ransom them for coin, I’m merely ensuring ours have appropriate protection when they arrive.” Kail felt a headache coming on, and had to resist the urge to grind his teeth.  "A wee bit paranoid ent ye?  I mean what wealth am I goin t'squeeze from a bunch of ragged refugees?“ "I see no other reason why you would bring a giant and an assassin!”  Baroth nearly snarled and pointed at Noyra and Syf in turn, the two had heard the commotion and come to stand by Kail’s side.   “I am being pointed at..” stated Syf with a grin and with a rattling cock of her blindfolded head she mused to Noyra “Cleary…they are not fond of that finger.”   The mute Noyra gave a slow ponderous look from Syf to Borath, before popping the core of her apple in her mouth and chewing just as slow.  Some sort of silent agreement had passed between the pair of women, and though the sand was loose beneath their feet, they suddenly projected the same immobility one would expect from a castle wall.    As much as he would have liked to have seen them show Baroth exactly why they had been brought along, Kail was fairly sure there were better uses of their time.  He held up a hand to the pair of them, and looked back to study Baroth.  This was odd even for present company.  Baroth wasn’t panicking as most do when they’re on the lam from authorities, no this was calculated and hostile, something was wrong and he was trying to keep them off balance before they figured it out.  Kail looked over the Highlander’s shoulder and took a quick head count of the Resistance members and refugees behind him.  Realization dawned on him with all the subtlety of a hammer blow.  

He stepped into Baroth’s personal space, and he had to give the Highlander credit for limiting his reaction to simply reaching to his sword once more and widening his eyes.  Kail raised both hands, showing them empty, and displaying (he hoped) the peacefulness of his intentions.  Lowering his voice, Kail spoke that so only Norah and Baroth could hear. “Have you told them yet?” The pair of them followed his glance towards the refugees, Norah didn’t need look back to Kail, he could tell by the slump of her shoulders that she knew what he was talking about.  Baroth was under the impression however that he had some future in the acting circuit, and attempted to feign ignorance.  "Told them what?“ Kail let out a small hiss of breath, and reminded himself that while letting Noyra bounce Baroth off a nearby rock was certainly a satisfying option, it wasn’t a helpful one. "When I signed on t'this job, I was very clear with Taltov, I could take ten men, women, or children from these shores, and that was it.  I count more than twenty-five back there.”

“That…” said Norah, casting a glare at Baroth “Is what I’ve been trying to tell you.  When we sprang the others…” She stared hard back at the refugees, and in that moment there was a subtle change in her posture that Kail wouldn’t have caught if he hadn’t been looking right at her.    It was more guarded, tense, as though something from within was threatening to spill forth if she did not keep both hands upon it.  "They were in cage next to the gallows, it wasn’t but a stone’s throw from the scaffolding.  They were made to watch as their friends were just hung knowing they were next, and those…those Garlean bastards were joking about the convenience of it all.“ She turned back to Kail, the momentary unsteadiness banished behind anger and outrage.  "We…I was unable to leave them there.” Kail didn’t need any intimate knowledge of the woman to know she was speaking the simple truth.  She had been physically incapable of leaving them behind.  They would have had to drag her away before she had allowed any such thing to happen, and that’s a hard feat to accomplish with a woman who could melt steel and shatter rock.

“Well what does it matter?” Baroth finally grumbled. “So your ship rides a little lower in the water and isn’t as comfortable, you can fit them all in there, look at it.” He motioned to the Rook as if a cursory glance summed up the craft’s capabilities, and only a complete moron couldn’t see it.   “It matters.” Shot back Kail, the level nature of his voice tilting towards an anger he rarely let out.  He didn’t care if they were refugee, resistance, or long lost family.  No one told him what to do with his ship.  "Tisn’t jest about keepin her above the waves ye feckin fool, iffin she doesn’t ride high in the water she’s much slower.  That’s longer in hostile waters with little to no hope of outrunning the airship they WILL send after us.  Never mind the fact we ent got enough food an fresh water fer that many.  Ye ever seen what happens on a ship with no food?“

Baroth blanched for a moment, and in that moment it was obvious he hadn’t thought on that.  Kail bit back on his temper a bit, Baroth looked lost as he stood staring at the Ashen Rook as though it was a poisoned oasis in the desert.  He was caught between a rock and a hard place while running with a stick of dynamite.  He had probably woke today thinking something would be different because he was trying to make a difference, only to find out the depths to which the world was truly indifferent.  To say anything now would only drive the nail in the further.  Kail might have been a cad, but he tried his best not to be cruel. Norah laid a hand gently on Borath’s shoulder in comfort, before looking to Kail searchingly.  "There must be something we can do, we can’t just abandon them here.” Frowning Kail scratched at his thickening stubble and closed his eyes while he considered the whole.  To leave them on the shore would be as good as slitting their throats, the Garleans needed examples to make of escapees, and someone had to have seen the direction the wagons took off in. “The resistance’s inside men took care of any local airships aye?”

Norah nodded “For a time at least, last we heard from them they would be able to cripple any docked ships for at least a day.  If they coordinated with us correctly, the ships have been down only for a few hours.” “That’s plenty of time fer a small boat t'get somewhere.” Kneeling ,Kail quickly sketched out the curving shoreline in the surrounding area, dotting an area in the sea several times. “South east of here there’s a scattering of islands, ent big enough to colonize, but they’ve got enough brush on em t'hide from any air patrols. We’ll load the wounded onto the Ashen Rook, and after they’re squared away we’ll leave the longboats and whatever supplies we can spare t'whoever’s left.  The boats can all be converted over to sail crafts, and iffin ye work fast ye can catch the dawn breezes coming off the mountains, should give ye a solid push towards these islands.” Baroth’s frown had returned, and deepened as Kail pressed on with the idea. “Ye lot stash yerselves there, twon’t be comfortable, but those islands have game and fresh water enough to keep ye lot the better side of thin.  Ye might even get lucky and find a smuggler’s stash, some of the lads use the islands fer emergency supplies.  We take the Rook back, n’once we’ve dropped the wounded off in Gridania, we’ll turn around and come back fer ye.”

“Just that I have this in hand…” Baroth rumbled as he stared daggers at Kail. “We’re going to set off in vessels not meant for the open seas, to a set of islands for which we have only your word on their existence.  Once we arrive we will have to hope you return before thirst or starvation or the Garleans claim us.  Have I mentioned I don’t trust you?”

“Iffin ye think  ye can get a better deal out of the Garleans, yer welcome t’wait here n’hash it out with em.”  Kail conjured one of his best wolfish smiles.  It was a smile that said he knew what sort of man Baroth was, that he wasn’t the first, and he wouldn’t be the last that Kail had dealt with.  Somehow both Syf and Noyra had picked up on the threat, and there was a tightening of fingers around a spear, and a slow hollow popping of knuckles the size of plums.  Baroth swallowed once, then looked to Norah to see if he could find support.  She gave him a slight shake of her head.  “It’s not ideal…but it’s a better plan than we had.  I’ll…I’ll go with you, once we have the wounded aboard the Rook.  We’ll all come out of this Baroth, you have my word.”

Kail felt a twinge in his gut as Norah volunteered herself, he was tempted to argue that detail right then and there, but it seemed to be the push to reason that Baroth needed.  The highlander gave a gentle nod of his head, and then headed back towards the refugees with his men in tow.  

“Well..” said Norah with a small sigh of relief.”That could have gone worse I suppose.”

“We need t’keep an eye on him Norah…” Kail muttered under his breath as he watched the man hoof it back up the sand dunes.

“Whatever for?  He’s agreed to it hasn’t he?”

“There was a reason he wanted his boys armed and aboard the Rook first…and it weren’t fer protectin the wounded, that was jest his excuse.”

It didn’t take her long to put it together, a moment of tapping her lips then she blinked and spoke Kail’s thoughts aloud. “He was going to try and take the ship…while half her crew was ferrying wounded.”  She skipped shock, and simply let cold anger blaze over her features. “The simple cheek of the bastard and after all our trouble..we aught to..”

The internal struggle on her features was plain.  She had family on the line and Baroth wasn’t just gambling with their lives, he was moving to sacrifice friends and loved ones, all in the name of a cause she carried just as close to her heart.  Yet if she took vengeance now, the lives lost for this would be for nothing.  She took a deep breath, and Kail saw a snap of electricity in her right hand, along with the heated smell of burning ozone.  It was gone just as quickly as it came, her version of letting pressure off a valve.  As she composed herself Norah’s face became both pleasant and serenely statuesque.  In that moment Kail found himself both slightly unsettled, and uncomfortably aroused, he decided it best to keep that to himself.  

“We’ll settle accounts later…for now, survival yes?”  She wove her hand into Kail’s arm and patted it fondly.  

“Survival sounds good, much better than the alternative.” He smirked, and led her back to the longboats.  

[erstwhile25]

Skin of the Teeth, Part 1: Where sleep is forgone and thieving bastards mutter.

“The best chains have no locks nor keys, they are as light as a dream yet bind us as fast as tempered steel. One needs no knowledge of anvil or forgeheat to craft such chains for themselves with loving attention and careful detail.”

Kail’s eyes snapped open, his rest suddenly feeling much less restful with the words of Tseng rattling in his head. Were they Tseng’s words though, or the lantern’s? He had been confusing the two of late. Unconsciously his hand traveled to rest on the inside of his right arm, where too rested the mark. It was no longer visible, the connection it conveyed had long since been rendered inert, but without question it was there. Between the rough and garish brand of slavery, and the elegant tattoo of a six point seal, the mark lay trapped. Kail could relate.

He’d given sleep it’s token efforts, but with the hanging bed in his cabin empty on one side, effort didn’t have much to do with the matter. He reached for his other solution, uncorking his flask with a practiced ease and letting a sip of fire run for the marrow of his bones. He knew after a few moments it wouldn’t be enough, the memories of the old twisted shinobi had been enough to get the adrenaline running in his veins. He tried instead to think of Norah, but that just made him worry. With wakefulness as certain as sunrise, he decided to make use of his time, and shrugged on his clothes with the bleary doggedness only the sleepless can muster.

Most of the crew was sleeping below decks, with only a skeleton crew keeping watch to make sure the worst didn’t come in the night. This close to the Garlean empire, it was quite possible the worst was waiting. Kail softened his footsteps as he made his way to the fore of the ship, alighting on the railing without so much of a creak of leather or a jingle of jewelry.

While at first glance the Rook seemed to have been crafted with only the function of sailing in mind, her figurehead betrayed the spirit under which she had been created. Forged from the same darksteel as the ships bindings, it was of almost adamantine sturdiness, perfect for piercing the hulls of ships. Yet, no attention to detail had been spared, weapon or not, it was a work of art.

Her features were so fine it was a wonder she was wrought from steel and not porcelain, hair streaming behind her, caught in an eternal breeze. Her gaze was imperious and resolute, from her robed figure one hand clutched a dagger to her breast, and the other pointed the way forward. Upon this outstretched hand alighted an immense raven, it’s wings frozen in mid-span while it cried defiance to all comers.

Looking upon the wrought steel figure caused a niggling thought to worm it’s way into the back of the mind, surely at some point, such a woman had existed. Hadn’t she? Kail was among a handful of people who knew for sure, who had been there to hear Songbird’s last song. Isral had been another.

The lean and immaculately tailored Miqo’te was currently crouched precariously just behind the steel rook, looking out towards land through a brass spyglass. With his grey skin and pitch fur, coupled with the stillness that he sat, it was relatively easy to lose sight of the Miqo’te against the night sky. Kail rarely had that problem, at the same time he was rarely able to get the drop on Isral. He was only five steps away when those black ears twitched, and the tail gave an amused flick, telling Kail what he already knew, he had been heard. “Better luck next time R’haji.” Mused Isral, not looking up from his spyglass. “One of these days,” grunted Kail “yer goin t’have to tell me what that word means.” “One of these days R’haji, the sun will fall from the sky and boil the oceans. My commenting on it, does not hasten its approach.”

“Speaking of hastened approaches…” Kail glanced out to the darkened shore, and felt Isral’s smirk rather than saw it. “If your lady fair was coming over the hill R’haji, I wouldn’t be sitting here looking for her.” “She doesn’t like it when ye call her that.” Kail muttered around a sip from his flask. “You don’t like it when I call her that. Unfortunately for you, the world hasn’t been struck deaf, dumb, or blind in the last few hours, so what the pair of you are is there for all to see, hear, and consider.” The Mi’qote’s tone chided playfully, it wasn’t the first time they had rounded the bush on this topic. “Is it so frightful a prospect that folk might mistake her for someone you care about?” “Twill be iffin anyone with a debt t’levy ‘gainst me comes t’that conclusion.” Isral didn’t answer right away, after all there was no denying the logic there. The circles they traveled in were festooned with individuals looking for such handholds over them, and each of them had their own perverted sense of what revenge and justice entailed. After a pregnant silence miscarrried between the pair, Isral’s next words tred out carefully to test the waters. “She’s not an unaccomplished magi you know…certainly she can take care of herself. It’s not like..” “Isral.” “Er yes?” “She and I have already had this conversation, ‘tis why she’s ashore and I’m sittin on the damn ship.” Conversation was perhaps a bit too generous of a word. His cabin had scorch marks resulted of their ‘heated’ debate, and the volume with which they had disagreed made Kail feel rather redundant telling Isral this. The entire ship’s crew knew the particulars. Kail offered to go with her, he’d offered to take some of the crew with them, he’d offered just about everything but her going alone but for the few members of the Resistance who’d met them ashore.

He supposed he knew why when he finally relented, the Resistance didn’t fully trust him after all. Despite all the aid they had provided and supplies they had smuggled, Norah was still a true daughter of Ala Mhigo, and he was still a filthy profiteering pirate. Not that it wasn’t true, but like many truths the public found easy to swallow, it wasn’t the whole truth. If this mission had been about anyone else, a dignitary, or a Garlean officer, he’d a feeling Norah would have argued just as fiercely for his personal involvement. It wasn’t though. The group of sullen faced Highlanders that had been there to greet them, had named her brother among those to hang in a few days time. With Jefferon’s life on the line, Kail could understand that she didn’t want to add fractured loyalties to the long long list of things that could go wrong. “She’ll be fine R’haji.” “As a smart ass cat once remarked, if only commenting on it made it so…” “She’ll be fine because I see her riding right for us.”

Kail’s spy glass was unfolded and scanning the shore with a speed that would have given a striking serpent envy. Sure enough out the mist covered maw of the forest that crested the hills above them, shot a pair of wagons being pulled by a team of horsebirds. At the reins of lead wagon was indeed Shinorah, dressed in plain civilian clothes, however looking no less impressive with the wind whipping her midnight hair behind and about her in an almost ethereal halo as she goaded the team of chocobos into even greater speeds.

Kail stomped a boot on the deck several times, and before long heard the clamor of the crew below rousting themselves to wakefulness. He didn’t bother to check if Isral was on his heels as he headed to the longboats, he simply started giving orders. “I want an away team of nine ready t’go with me ashore, three t’ each longboat. Have the remainin crew arm up and start gettin the Rook ready fer launch.” Isral frowned slightly as they began to flip and lash a longboat to the launch pulley. “We expecting trouble?” Tightening a lash, Kail’s one showing eye fixed Isral with a look. The Mi’qote gave a sigh of resignation muttering under his breath “Of course we are.” “Need ye on the same page with me here Mr, Qolquitt.” “Right, sphincter properly clenched in anticipation.” That managed to put a smirk on Kail’s tired features. “While yer feelin cheeky, go make sure Noyra and Syf are on that away team.”

It was Isral’s turn to shoot Kail a look, concern brought out the age lines in his otherwise impish features. “You sure that’s wise R’haji? I can understand Noyra there to discourage a fight but…Syf is almost spoiling for one.” Kail nodded once, his tone didn’t brook much in the way of argument. “Which is why I want her near me and Noyra, get them, now.” Isral didn’t salute, no one on the ship did under threat of being tossed over board, but there was a snap to his step as he ran off. As he cleared the railing and swung himself through a port hole into the lower decks, he prayed that just this once, things would just go according to plan.