#Styrgeim Rhotwilfwyn

[avirael]

In addition to yesterday’s writing prompt:

Here’s a better picture of Styrgeim!

Born and raised in Limsa, she grew up to be a privateer and treasure hunter, just like her dad.

Now she travels around looking to take revenge on her father’s killers and to fulfil his dream in his stead.

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 17 - Sally

“Sally?!”, Styrgeim asked and laughed loudly in her brutally honest manner. “You seriously think she looks like a Sally??”

Nhagi’ra looked away from the Au Ra girl in question and instead shrugged at Styrgeim. “Why not? All I meant is, we have to call her something if she doesn’t speak to us.”

But the pale Roegadyn woman was still laughing.

“Hahaha! If you’re looking for a Sally you better sail back to Limsa, Nhagi! Maybe you’ll find a Midlander woman there listening to that name but I can’t imagine an Au Ra from the other side of the world would be called that…”

“It’s not impossible!”, the Miqo’te protested, simply because he felt mocked. He had to admit she was probably right but what did he know about Au Ra or what people called themself in the Far East.

“Not impossible.”, a man’s voice appeared behind the two of them. “But certainly improbable…”

Nhagi’ra flinched, which made Styrgeim laugh even more. Their boss had this habit of just silently appearing sometimes and although he was mostly a friendly fellow and Nhagi’ra owed him a lot, he couldn’t help but be startled by him sometimes.

For a moment all three of them eyed the Au Ra girl sitting on some crates they had put there in the middle of the townsquare after their return, to be brought to the warehouse later. Her pink hair looked even brighter in the afternoon sun and her face looked less frightened, now that they left her alone, and instead she curiously scanned the environment. Nhagi’ra was bad at guessing how old people were, especially if it was the kind of people he rarely had seen before, but he assumed she couldn’t be much older than 20.

“Go and talk to her, Gi’ra. Find out her name and if there is a place we can bring her to. If there are people who might be looking for her.”, their boss commanded.

“Why me?”, Nhagi’ra exclaimed. “Shouldn’t someone else do that?”

“No, you are our best chance. You’re doing fine with Elsie. Styrgeim or me would just scare her. Besides, I honestly don’t feel like talking to her…”, he muttered and turned to leave.

This was his job, Nhagi’ra thought. His moods sometimes frustrated him, maybe because he understood best from all of them how he felt, even despite their differences.

“Are you going to send me too, once we —”, he tried to call after him but Styrgeim shoved him roughly to make him shut up.

He must have heard that still but chose to ignore it and crept back to his room. Nhagi’ra assumed he would sit there and brood for the next few hours. Then he would either trash the room or immediately skip to making a new plan. Nhagi’ra understood how frustrating it had to be for him, he probably would feel the same in his stead. Their last attempt had brought no new hints at all, only this strange girl. Nhagi’ra had seen him approach her in the dark, the night before. How she had screamed when the man had addressed her, misjudging the impression he made on her, misjudging the whole situation it seemed. He was a terrifying sight with so much anger in his eyes and blood dripping from his axe. But seeing her reaction, for a second all his strength had left his posture until he realised the girl’s scream had alarmed the whole camp to their presence.

“You fancy an axe in your chest, Nhagi?”, Styrgeim asked. “Be careful how you speak to him. You know he can be different…”

“He would never attack one of us.”, Nhagi’ra said and honestly believed it.

“Probably not.”, the Roegadyn admited. “But still try not to be this harsh to him. For you everything turned out nicely. For him though…”

“I know, I know…”, Nhagi’ra interjected. “Fine! I will speak to her but don’t be surprised if she starts screaming again. I can imagine I don’t exactly look friendly to her either…”

“Maybe not.”, Styrgeim grinned. “But you will still keep on jabbering nonsense anyway. The boss is right, if anyone can win her over, it’s you. Take her to one of the guest rooms. Even if she has a home or family to return to, it will take a while and she has to stay somewhere in the meantime…”

Nhagi’ra sighed and walked over to the heap of crates with the Au Ra girl sitting on it. Carefully he tried to move into her field of view first, not to startle her. Then he tilted his head with a friendly smile on his face and lightly waved at her.

“Hi. Can I speak to you for a —”

Her strangely glowing green eyes widened with fear but at least she didn’t start screaming again. Instead she kept her mouth pressed shut in stubborn thin line.

“No, no. Don’t worry. You’re safe here. I just want to ask you a few questions. Look, I am unarmed…”, he said soothingly and raised his empty hands for her to see. “My name is Nhagi’ra. But some people call me Nhagi… or Gi’ra… Don't mind that big lady over there looking at us. That's just Styrgeim. She may be loud and scary sometimes but she is actually quite nice... Would you tell me your name?”

The fear in her eyes changed to a more sceptical expression. Wordlessly she stared at him and didn’t speak.

“Fine, you don’t need to speak to me. But let me at least get you somewhere more comfortable. You can’t sleep out here, can you? It's getting pretty cold at night and what if it starts raining later, right?”

Again no reaction, just the same sceptical stare.

For a second Nhagi’ra stretched out an hand for her to take, to help her down the crates, but quickly realised she wasn’t going to take it. Instead he put a few steps of distance between them and pointed to one of the houses at the side of the plaza. “Follow me. Please? You can have a room all for yourself there. I‘ll just bring you there and then I’ll leave you be. I promise…”

For another second she observed him, carefully following each of his movements with her eyes. Then she hopped down from the crate and stepped a little closer, still keeping a distance, but signaling that she was willing to do as he told.

“Great!”, the Miqo’te commented a little more cheerfully. “It’s not going to be very luxurious but still an improvement I think. No one is going to bother you and the beds are a lot more comfortable than they look…”

Slowly he walked over to one of the houses, every now and then risking a small glimpse over his shoulder to make sure the girl was still following. As they reached the building he opened the door for her, but she only stood there looking at him.

“Fine. I‘ll go first if you want.”, he replied to her silence and entered the house. There he gestured to a staircase leading to the upper floor. “The bedrooms are up there. Not many are used though at the moment. Elsie has her‘s there too, I think you two would get along nicely. I will have to introduce you once both of you are feeling better.”

He sighed at her silence and instead led her up to one of the empty rooms. “You can stay here. Please make yourself comfortable. I will bring you some water and food soon but don’t expect to much. Today Styrgeim is cooking, which means we will likely just get fish stew. Usually the food is quite good though. We grow lots of vegetables and fruits her and some of the people living here a quite good at cooking.”

The girl curiously looked around the room but did not show any signs of reaction to what he had said. Instead she stepped to the window, ran a finger over the surface of the little desk and then sat down on the bed in the corner of the room.

“Fine, I will leave you be then. You must be tired. Rest a bit first, we can always talk later. Or you know, I can talk, and you can say nothing, if you prefer that...”, Nhagi’ra said and turned to leave but hesitated for a moment. “You know, if you would at least tell us who you are and where you’re from, maybe we could bring you back home.”

Her blank expression turned to surprise.

“Would you like that?”, Nhagi’ra asked but the girl shook her head and her expression changed to a more sad one. Hesitantly she stood up and walked over to Nhagi’ra, slowly stretching an empty hand out towards him.

“I don’t understand…”, the Miqo’te replied and the girl reluctantly reached out for for his hand. Carefully she unfurled his fingers and turn his palm facing upwards. Then with gentle, slow touches of her fingertip she drew a pattern into his hand. It took him a moment to realise it were letters, so he didn’t get the whole sentence. I-S -- D-E-A-D

“Dead? Your family?”, he asked and the girl nodded.

“I am so sorry.”, he offered and after a moment of silence he added, “You cannot speak?”

The girl shook her head and began to write into his palm again, letter by letter, word by word.

“They… took… my… book?”, Nhagi’ra tried to translate and she nodded. “You want me to get you something to write?”

Another nod. Relieved Nhagi’ra smiled. Finally some improvement.

“Of course. I will immediately get you food and something to write. No problem!”

He was about to leave when she grabbed his hand once again. Very slowly she wrote another word. I-L-T-A-N-I

“Iltani?”, the Miqo’te asked confused thinking he got something wrong but the girl nodded.

“What’s that?”

Then she pointed at herself and wrote the same word again. M-Y -- N-A-M-E -- I-S -- I-L-T-A-N-I

“Ah! I see...”, with a little chuckle Nhagi’ra lightly bowed to her. Of course Styrgeim had been right. What a foreign sounding name this was and so much more pretty than Sally.

“Nice to meet you, Iltani.”

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 24 - Bar

With an annoyed groan the pale Roegadyn woman emptied her half full glass of rum in one gulp and wordlessly signaled for the barkeeper to fill it up another time. She wasn’t surprised at all that not even the alcohol was good on this twelve-forsaken island. Hopefully it would at least make her forget that she had traveled all the way to Bianaq for absolutely nothing.

The journey from Limsa to here alone had taken more time than this nonsense had been worth, but on top of that Styrgeim had spent an entire week searching the whole island for any clues. Of course she had found exactly nothing and the worst part of it was that she should have expected that. But recently she had been desperate enough to follow every tiny rumour or breadcrumb.

Every mention of Merlzirn’s name or some tale of treasure, no matter how fantastical, had been enough for her to investigate. Mostly it had only brought her trouble. But at least sometimes that meant her search was a little less boring.

She couldn’t wait for the day she finally found that bastard Merlzirn, if only to erase his arrogant grin from his ugly face with a salve of bullets. Then she would take back what that vile traitor had stolen from the old Rhotwilf and with his notebook in her hands again, she would be able to finally find the treasure her father had always dreamt to find, before his treacherous first mate had ruined this dream. Maybe she would also do it the other way around, just so she could rub it in his face before she killed him.

But this day was still so much closer to daydreams than reality. In fact the last half year had went by without any useful clue regarding the whereabouts of the Seawraith, her father’s old ship, or her crew of pirates.

Back then, when her father still had been captain, they hadn’t called themself pirates yet - or rather not anymore. They had been privateers after the new admiral had declared piracy illegal. And while many people in Limsa Lominsa had been shocked about the city-states new course, Rhotwilf had sworn loyalty to Merlwyb and decided to follow her moral code to only attack ships of garlean origin. Of course he had done so because it was a good and profitable thing to do, but mostly to finance the search for the treasure Rhotwilf’s father had claimed to have buried somewhere, before leaving on a voyage he had never returned from - leaving nothing but a few vague clues behind regarding his treasure.

Those had been glorious days and the name Rhotwilf had been famous in every port around Eorzea. But nowadays nobody even remembered his name, much less his deeds.

One day, after they Rhotwilf had returned home from one of his voyages, dispute had broken out between the captain and his first mate. Their last voyage had given them lots of garlean technology, confiscated from one of the empire’s ships, and Merlzirn had been unhappy about the sum the admiral had been willing to pay them for it. Instead the treacherous rat had suggested to sell their loot in less legal ways and for twice the price. Rhotwilf had of course not wanted to hear a single word about such dishonourable plans and in the end his honesty had cost him everything.

Within a few days the traitor had managed to not only steal Rhotwilf’s belongings, including his ship, the cargo and his notebook, but also the loyalty of his crew. One night the mutineers had secretly tried to sell parts of their loot without their captain’s agreement and when Rhotwilf had discovered this, they had brutally beaten him up and left him to die at the beach, before fleeing with his ship.

But Rhotwilf hadn’t died - at least not immediately. With the last of his strength he had dragged himself home, a horrible sight to his wife and daughter. Styrgeim’s father had never fully recovered. His body and honor broken, and his ship and dream stolen, he had seemingly lost all will to live and died only a few weeks later.

On the very same day young Styrgeim had picked up her father’s weapons and signed up at the first ship that was willing to take her. Quickly she had learned how to fight, how to sail, how to navigate and she swore that she would get strong enough to take revenge on the man who had murdered her father and then she would fulfill his dream in his place.

Now, while this was a noble cause, it had turned out more difficult and frustrating than she had expected. For a while she had sailed with this crew and that but without much success, so in the end she had continued her search on her own. Not that this had been much more successful so far.

And this was how Styrgeim had ended up at this poor excuse of a bar in the middle of nowhere, trying to find inspiration at the bottom of a glass filled with alcohol - or a few of those. She would have to return to Limsa. Rethink her strategy. Maybe hire a few people after all...

But as Styrgeim pondered over her options, one more boring or futile than the other, something happened outside of the building. Someone was screaming and everyone’s heads turned to the door. Styrgeim grinned and emptied her glass. Then she tossed a few coins onto the counter and stood up. The turmoil out there sounded too interesting to miss.

Outside she found a screaming man in a peculiar state. He looked entirely exhausted and his skin and clothes were covered in fresh stains of blood. He swayed as he approached the small crowd, that had gathered to stare at him. He seemed very confused and with a slurred but loud voice he yelled, “Help! Have you seen…? — No! They took —!”

The townsfolk stared at him in shock, but also in fear. Because as pitiable and confused as he looked, there also was something wild in his eyes. The blood all over his body didn’t help either.

“Please! I need to…”, he continued but then paused as if he needed to remember first what it had been he was trying to say. Then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed.

The people of the little fishing village kept staring at him and whispered with each other. No one dared to step closer. Styrgeim shook her head and pushed past a few of the townsfolk.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that…”, she announced with a confident voice.

This should be fun at least.