#ffxiv whitebrim front

[amalthea-felsblood]

On a cold windy night, Marian began to feel the pain of pressure, and she knew that their child would be joining them soon, so with great haste Estinien brought her to Whitebrim Front. They were assisted by Astidien and Charmine as soon as they arrived through the front door of the infirmary. Once Marian was settled, Estinien found himself overwhelmed, with every wince and cry of pain from her lips it weighed heavily upon his heart. His protective instincts flared, but he had to put his trust in the chirurgeons to do what they must. He whispered prayers of strength for Marian's sake, hoping she could endure the pain for as long as it lasted. After hours of long and arduous labor, finally a small cry could be heard, and new life was cradled in Marian's arms, a son.

Charmine ◦ "You must push, my lady, push with all your strength!"

Estinien ∘ "Please...keep Marian and our child safe from harm and grant her the will to endure this pain."

Charmine ◦ "Congratulations to you both, it is a healthy baby boy."

Estinien ◦ "Marian, are you alright, my dearest?"

Marian ◦ "Yes, my love, I am fine, but look…"

Marian ∘ "Isn't he beautiful?"

Estinien ∘ "He is the most beautiful of all treasures."

[immawraffle]

There’s a guard just outside Whitebrim Front with a fishing rod for a weapon!

I took out my own just to doublecheck, and yep, that’s a fishing rod strapped to his back. What in the seven hells does he expect to do against the dragons with that?

Give it up for Firminnant, the absolute madlad.

[elizatronicwarfare]

CHEST HEAVING WITH EXERTION, YOU GAZE AT THE BLOODSTAINED SWORD IN YOUR HANDS. YOU ARE UNCERTAIN HOW LONG YOU HAVE HELD IT. 

[songlessmagpie]

 Under the command of Lord Drillemont of House Durendaire, Whitebrim Front is a relatively new outpost established for the purpose of quartering the Temple Knights tasked with retaking the Stone Vigil.

[amememightywarrior]

/lookout, it’s Haurchefant! (with bonus Forte members)

(I finally completed Haurchefant’s SB sightseeing log! NEVER JUMPING KUGANE TOWER AGAIN. A POX ON THAT THING.)

[elizabethrobertajones]

FFXIV Write: Day 21, Solution

yesterday when I asked @count-dadcula what to write I was initially advised to write Aymeric x Estinien, before I went wildly off-track. *clears throat* That won't happen here, I'm sure.

Mature, Aymeric x Haurchefant, Aymeric x Estinien, (blatant pre-Haurche/Aymeric/Estinien but they're not there yet :P) pre-canon by several years and don't @ me about historical inaccuracies, I don't know her.

“Why do you sigh so hard? I know the depth is unwarranted for how much you will miss me when I take up my post at Camp Dragonhead.” Haurchefant ran playful fingers over Aymeric’s bare chest, as they lay curled abed in their sole sanctuary of De Borel Manor, safe from the eyes of scandal.

“If I’m sighing, you’ve merely tired me to breathlessness,” Aymeric murmured, chasing Haurchefant’s hand so he could squeeze it.

“My ear is flat to your heart and I can hear it lamenting something,” Harchefant pressed. The night was young but there was urgency, still. On the morrow he’d have left Ishgard for the frontier fortifications and all preparations were complete, save knowing he had left Aymeric behind light of heart, as his own duty propelled him through the ranks of the Temple Knights. A thought occurred to him, ridiculous of all he knew of him yet if this was not the place to swap their darkest thoughts… “You’re not jealous of Estinien being called to the order of the Dragoons and earning his armour, are you?”

Aymeric’s heart beat faster in his chest, and he shook his head, and sighed again, lifting Haurchefant’s head ilms higher before it sunk. “You know I can do naught but love him.”

“And you’ll see him near every day still, as your duties overlap in defence of the city. You won’t even know I’m gone after a while, once you can win him over. Which I’m sure you will. Eventually. You saved his life and he has called you friend. You’re making progress!”

“Every time I see him all the words of seduction you give me turn to ash in the heat of his single-minded determination. It’s as much as I can do to remember my own name in his presence, trailing after him and imagining every curt word is a honeyed poem. You would find me a ridiculous mockery of the boy you know if you were to see us together.”

“I want to meet him so – oh.”

“What?” Aymeric sat up, dislodging Haurchefant rudely, but the young elezen didn’t mind, bouncing up to kneel beside his lover, spreading his arms in excitement. “I have the solution.”

Aymeric smiled ruefully and shook his head.

Undeterred, Haurchefant beamed at him. “Why, Camp Dragonhead!”

“I don’t understand,” Aymeric said, his eyes narrowed as if he very much did but did not wish to believe it. “You and I have sworn not to make any personal visits.”

“And yet I don’t even know Estinien personally, do I?”

“You do not.” His gaze was steady, suddenly calculating and political as he weighed what Haurchefant proposed.

“I should not risk anything too soon, but if we weather a storm, an assault of dragons, and a month or two without my overseeing it burn to the ground, why it would be perfectly in my right to write some letters, perhaps suggesting a squadron of Temple Knights come train away from the luxuries of the city and learn from brave frontier soldiers, and another letter to someone who many never chance to cross path and mention it to the recipient of the first, that I would like a Dragoon to come inspect our defences, say, and make a recommendation of one I know is showing such promise they already whisper of him becoming Azure Dragoon mere months into his position. Why, letters from a Lord out in Camp Dragonhead would sound like opportunities, not burdens.”

“The power has already gone to your head, my dear Haurchefant.”

“You yourself spent a week at Whitebrim front digging privvies just to earn a recommendation from Lord Drillemont. He did little more than nod at you, but he wrote a letter that elevated your situation markedly, did he not? That power is not one for me to waste, believe me, the Count has lectured me long and hard about what comes with this posting, and Artoriel has not said a word to me since I was given it. But being outside of Ishgard allows you to make opportunities that can not happen here. I will find excuses to bring you to me, and I will take them.”

“You’d do all that just to get an introduction to my surly friend?”

Haurchefant pushed Aymeric’s shoulder gently. “To bed him myself if you can’t do it.”

He dodged a lightly thrown pillow.

“Forgive me, my friend, but I doubt that even your charms may break through when it comes to Estinien.”

“If I can isolate you both away from the city for just a night or three, I can get a measure of these affections you assure me lurk beneath the spiky surface, and if his heart can be won, I will get it for you. And if not, I will be there to hold you and at least all the sighing and weeping will be over something you know you tried your best for, and not simply pining over how miserable a handsome man in armour can make you from afar.”

By then Aymeric was blushing from one point of his ears to the other, but he nodded, stoically. “If you swear not to overextend your hand on my behalf. I could not live with myself if the Count took away your command and judged you irresponsible, even if he were never to learn of our affair and think only poorly of your military judgement.”

“I promise, I intend only to run Camp Dragonhead to the best of my ability. Besides, do not think this is an excuse for you to cease your pursuit. I want my first missive from you when I sit at that big desk to contain a coded post script filled with colourful exploits wherein your Dragoon swives you stupid behind the stables.”

Aymeric buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. “I regret ever letting you kiss me, Haurchefant.”

“You were the one who kissed me.” He twined his arms around Aymeric’s neck and teased him with kisses to his forehead until he looked up and their lips met fully. Haurchefant bowled him over and lay atop him once more. “I think I’ve earned a little reward for my clever ideas, hmm?”

And, like letters from an important Lord landing on a desk, Aymeric couldn’t deny his request.

[weatheredpileoftomes]

it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

For Wondrous Tails of FFXIV, “beach”. Post-Endwalker, ~550 words. Spoilers through 6.0 and for drk quests through 70. This twisted very sideways from where I intended it to go but here we are, I suppose.

Fray finally gets a chance to take the Warrior of Light to the beach.

The water off of Bloodshore is vivid turquoise, clear as the finest glass. Frydlona has been all over three worlds and she’s never seen a gem quite like it. Winter is mild here in Eastern La Noscea, especially after…everywhere. Ishgard, Sharlayan, Garlemald. She barely even feels the chill as she lets the surf run up over her ankles.

“I didn’t think this through,” Fray admits.

The wind catches Myste’s hair, whipping it around his head as he tries to bat it away. Fray is still wearing her armor, helmet and all, like an ink smudge on the beach. Frydlona is the only one of them dressed for this, in a short pareo and close-fitting top, and she can’t help asking, “What was your plan?”

Fray shrugs with a clanking of armor. “I wanted to get you somewhere warm and safe. Somewhere happy, where the people around you were having fun and nobody wanted you to be the Weapon of Light. And I didn’t think you’d let yourself go, so it hardly mattered.”

Somewhere in one of Vaillance’s saddlebags Frydlona has a ribbon. She goes back and sorts through until she finds it, then hands it to Myste. “They have hats at Costa del Sol,” she says to Fray while Myste ties his hair back with a quick thanks.

Fray’s silence is deeply skeptical.

“You could take the helmet off,” Frydlona says. “I know what you look like.”

Myste hugs her, quickly, and runs off down the beach. The spray kicks up under his feet, glittering white, until he stops at a spar of rock running out into the water and bends down to peer at it. Tidepools, Frydlona thinks. Starfish, and sea urchins, and seaweed like silk ribbons. A whole tiny world of dark, rich colors and glimmering texture. “Watch for crabs!” she calls after him.

He waves and nods.

Fray folds her arms with another clank. “It’s good to see him having a nice day at the beach.”

“You want me to…play in a tidepool?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.” Fray tips her head back, looking up at the pale sun. “You don’t like it when I take the helmet off.”

It’s disorienting, looking at herself from the outside. But— “I’d like you to,” Frydlona says. “Actually.”

Fray pulls the helmet off. The air around her swirls red-edged black, hiding the moment that she grows a good fulm in height, and then she’s looking Frydlona in the eye.

Her way of wearing Frydlona’s face is kinder than Zenos’s, now. She hasn’t looked like she did at Whitebrim Front in years.

Frydlona swallows and nods. “I could play in a tidepool,” she says. “If you come too.”

“What?” Fray says. “No, I—”

“‘Come to the beach,’ you said. ‘We should run away to the beach,’ you said. ‘Let’s just ignore them all and go swimming,’ you said.” The water isn’t quite familiar here, but the air is—salt and warmth and the sweet dry scent of winter grass—and Frydlona finds herself grinning at Fray almost the way Fray might. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up on it now.”

“Oh, all right,” Fray says, but she’s smiling too.

[risualto]

Your Words Were Like a Dream

Title: Your Words Were Like a Dream Summary: “It’s no small wonder folks around here know you’re not to be trusted when it’s obvious to anyone with a pair of ears that you’re only here because you want something.” Warnings: mentions of death, SPOILERS for FFXIV’s main story after level 34 (”All Good Things”). Notes: So, @orime-stories​ finally got me to properly try FFXIV, and I did, and I made a Lalafell lady named Rihnkiki (”Inky”) whose primary traits are being kind and being silly, in that order.  This story was inspired by a sharp little bit of inspiration I had of Inky standing on a chair and giving the most chipper lecture of anyone’s lifetime...and the story indulged me quite nicely.  The title is from FFX-2′s “One Thousand Words,” which I think I’ll be stealing lines from for at least a few more Inky stories.

Alphinaud was quite glad, thank you, that the cook at the Whitebrim Front didn’t seem so keen to ostracize outsiders as near everyone else.  Part of this, of course, was simply because it was so tiring to be constantly watched, constantly aware of every motion of his body and thoughts lest something become cause for concern among the locals—but a much larger part was simply because there was a fire in the base of the tower, and Haustefort didn’t particularly seem to mind when Alphinaud, Cid, and Rihnkiki claimed a spot at a table near it.

He really had expected all this to be over much sooner than it was, and if not for his pride, perhaps, he might have turned to the newcomer and asked if she had been serious when she offered him an extra layer after witnessing a blizzard overtake the region shortly after their arrival.  However, it seemed an odd thing to bring up again now after rejecting her twice, so he held his tongue.

At least with regards to clothes, anyway, because the three of them had much to discuss if they were ever to find some tangible trace of the Enterprise in this place where the wilds were frozen and the people seemed even colder.

“I just don’t understand,” Rihnkiki was saying, absently poking the mirror apple slices on her plate with her fork.  “We did stop the trial, but it turned out that we were right!  If we’d done nothing, then that Inquisitor would have been responsible for a huge mistake—not to mention the fact that one of his men was working against him the whole time, and we were the ones who proved it.”  She sounded so deeply, personally offended at the betrayal of a man she’d known for all of three minutes in battle, that Alphinaud couldn’t help a wry smile.

“That could very much be why he doesn’t like us, you know,” he said, leaning his cheek on his fist and pausing smugly.  “The people here respect his authority, his integrity, and his judgement, and in one fell swoop, Rihnkiki, you called all of them into question.”

Rihnkiki pursed her lips.  “But I wasn’t trying to—”

“I know,” Alphinaud interrupted.  “And I’m certainly not saying you shouldn’t have done what you did, since it earned us the favor of two of the High Houses.” Cid nodded along, and Rihnkiki sighed, taking a bite of her apple.  But she relaxed, too, looking for all intents and purposes much more like the woman Alphinaud had seen lounging and swinging her legs on a long carriage ride.

Still, he continued, “But I do mean to say that from the respected Inquisitor’s perspective, you’ve made yourself quite a nuisance—possibly a threat.  And that, of course, assumes that there is aught else influencing his actions, which cannot be ruled out as a possibility.”  The speculation had Alphinaud dropping his voice a fair bit, ever mindful of the other soldiers scraping together a meal and some comfort only a handful of yalms away. One had stood up and made her way closer, though she appeared to be approaching the cook rather than their group.

“Like what?” Rihnkiki asked, tapping a new slice of apple against her lips as she watched him thoughtfully.

“I’m not yet certain,” Alphinaud said.  He returned his voice to normal again, lest their whispering itself draw unwanted attention.  “I can tell you it will be hard to pin down when our every act of goodwill is undermined immediately.”

Cid huffed tiredly, flexing his hands over the table in front of him.  “That alembic would have helped so many.  Its use wouldn’t have been hard to learn, either,” he said.

“And yet, now it will languish away in their storeroom for who knows how long, and for who knows what end, because the Inquisitor is so insistent that we cannot be trusted,” Alphinaud noted.  He watched as Rihnkiki reached over and covered Cid’s wrist with her hand in a gesture of comfort.  The bracelets on her wrist clinked together like bells as she patted the engineer—in lieu of being able to squeeze his arm, for her hands were much too small.

The melodic tinkling of metal suddenly intensified as Rihnkiki looked over her shoulder just before someone started to speak. Archer’s instincts, Alphinaud supposed, to keep ever aware of one’s surroundings.

The soldier—who Alphinaud noticed was the one who had approached the cook moments ago, leaving her close enough to eavesdrop—didn’t seem to notice or care that she had been anticipated, and was saying anyway, “It’s no small wonder folks around here know you’re not to be trusted when it’s obvious to anyone with a pair of ears that you’re only here because you want something.”

“And an airship, at that!” chimed in another from down the long table.  “Supposedly hidden in the lair of the Dravanians!”  This man swept a hand out in front of him, wiggling his fingers as though trying to spook a particularly simple child, and Alphinaud rolled his eyes.

“Fair quick to bite the hand that fed you, Ombeline,” said the cook, gesturing towards Rihnkiki with an elbow.  “Were it not for her, all of us would have gone at least another week with no proper meat in this place.”

Rihnkiki smiled at the cook, clearly happy that someone appreciated her glorified errand-running, but this Ombeline was quick to cut in again.  “Were it not for her own agenda, you mean.  Come now, Haustefort.  Do you truly think that these outsiders would bother a whit with us otherwise?  They’re not here to be upstanding members of the Church!  They’re here because they’re after something, is all, and it’s right of the Inquisitor to be so suspicious.”

“That’s not fair—” Cid started to say, but he was overrun immediately.

“So you’re saying you really came here out of the goodness of your hearts?” asked the other soldier, sneering in a way that said he clearly had his mind made up on the matter.  “That you would have offered your generous aid even if it didn’t help you further your plans, hm?”

Alphinaud sighed, letting his shoulders fall noticeably to properly broadcast his weariness with the whole thing.  This was the eternal struggle of diplomacy—to make someone from whom one wants something believe that achieving that something is in both parties’ best interests.

“I would,” Rihnkiki said, pushing to her feet.  Alphinaud froze, lips still parted around an argument that was currently only held back by sheer curiosity.

Rihnkiki was standing not on the floor, but on the bench she and Cid shared, and even so, it was not enough to put her of a height with the Elezen soldiers.  She still somehow managed to grab the attention of the room.  Everyone was silent for the space of a single breath, only the crackling of the fireplace and the jingling of Rihnkiki’s bracelets filling the space.

“That’s rich,” started Ombeline.

“It’s the truth,” Rihnkiki said, and where it probably should have sounded defensive, the beaming smile on her face was so incongruous that it seemed to throw everyone off.  No one tried to speak again, instead just simply staring at this woman, shorter than most of their legs and dressed not in battle-scarred metal but in flowing, dawn-lavender linen.

Alphinaud leaned back.  He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, listened, watched, for this might possibly be the most fascinating thing he’d seen in days. The bar was low, perhaps, after days of meddling in local minutiae.  Still, he waited to see, for it might be a signal of something beyond the Echo which marked Rihnkiki as remarkable.

She looked across the room as she spoke, trying to make eye contact with everyone she could.  Alphinaud could tell, mostly because everyone whose eyes she did meet seemed to shy away from their own hostility.  A bit.  “I know that we’ll never be just like you because this is your fight against the scalekin, but just because we’re fighting different enemies doesn’t mean I don’t understand what you’re doing through,” Rihnkiki said, placing a hand on her chest, right over where she kept her soul crystal.  “We are fighting for the same thing, you know.”

A few people seemed to shift, slightly, the words proving just too much, too far, and Alphinaud wondered how she’d convince them this was true when he didn’t even believe it himself.

“We’re fighting,” Rihnkiki said, voice almost sparkling despite the glares in the room trying to blot her out like a storm cloud, “to protect the places and the people we love, aren’t we?”

And— Well.  No one could argue with that, really.  Alphinaud even caught his own lips parting in shock for a second before he composed himself properly.  When he thought about it, of course, it was very true.  Ideals and things like the “greater good” were pretty in speeches, but the truth, as all who had survived the Calamity knew it, was that people would rarely act until the threat was personal.

Rihnkiki, of course, said it in the same way one might speak over a dinner table.  She said it as though it weren’t the sort of revelation that would have philosophers and learned folk debating in furiously hushed whispers, like it wasn’t a truth with complex and messy consequence.  Her smile curled around its edges, holding the feeling in a simple-to-swallow package, sweet and simple.

After a few seconds of beatific silence, Rihnkiki gave a tiny little shrug, and continued, voice still chipper as a springtime brook, “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re stuck.  Like what you need to win, to protect what you care for, is just out of reach.  So, yes, I would help.  No matter what.”

Alphinaud could hear Alisaie’s bitter, pitying laughter in his head, her voice gently disparaging such a blindly ideal sentiment, even if she might agree with the heart of it.  He let a breath of air hiss between his teeth, so quiet that only Cid could hope to hear it, as he watched the room shift.  The whole tower, really (and it occurred to Alphinaud then that there were no doors between this floor and the next, and Rihnkiki’s voice was high and clear enough to carry) fell silent, save for the thundering wind outside the fort’s walls.  A few people shifted uncomfortably, eventually, like scolded children.  It may not have been Rihnkiki’s intention to dress them down, exactly—her tone had been so sweet, so free of the passive aggression that Alphinaud knew he would have used, that she couldn’t have been trying such a thing.

Still, he doubted many of them would be able to meet her eyes for a good while, maybe a day or two.

She seemed to realize the awkwardness after a few seconds, folding her hands behind her as she looked around with a bit more urgency than before.

It was Haustefort who broke the silence with a chuckle.  “You make a fair point, ‘venturer,” he said.

(Alphinaud barely noticed, attention more on the fact that he could see Rihnkiki’s hands closing tighter around themselves, fingers white where they poked out from her gloves.  As though she were hiding a tremor.)

(I know what it’s like to feel like you’re stuck. Like…what you care for is just out of reach, she had said.  Alphinaud remembered, with an alacrity that could cut, that Rihnkiki hadn’t just heard of the massacre of the Scions.  She had been the one to walk the halls blanketed by corpses and slashed through with silence, and yet she still stood here, kind and steady as a trampled flower.)

“If you find yourself still feeling so inspired in the morning,” Haustefort was saying, “maybe you’d see about gathering a few more of those mirror apples.  We might have a proper pie with your help.”

“Well, it’s no airship,” Rihnkiki started, laughter bubbling under ever note of her voice.  It spilled over into the room, a few chuckles rippling back at her despite the fact that not a bell ago, the mere mention of the Enterprise would have frozen everyone’s lips.  The melancholy air Alphinaud thought he might have felt crumbled away.  “But you can always count on me to help with a pie!”

With a satisfied nod from the cook and a clap of her hands, Rihnkiki spun airily on one foot before sitting back down beside Cid, who was watching her with an utterly charmed, disbelieving smile.  “You fancy you can give a speech like that to the Inquisitor, then?”

“Oh, quite the idea,” Alphinaud joked, raising a finger into the air between them.  “Maybe our dear friend Guillaume will ask us to waste time fetching him fruit for a pie, and that will be that.”

Rihnkiki tried to pout and utterly failed.  “You never know,” she said anyway.  Alphinaud had the oddest feeling that she might be serious.  “I think a good talk over good food makes most things better.”

Her hands stayed under the table, though, out of sight and silent.

[mirageofthecrystal]

FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 9: Friable

friable (adjective)

easily crumbled, pulverized, or reduced to powder

"We ride next for Whitebrim Front, for it is under a heavy Dravanian Siege at the behest of the twisted master of the Stone Vigil, Isgebind.” The icy beast had made its home within the halls of the keep some time ago when the knights of House Haillenarte failed to defend it, thus allowing it to full into the hands of the enemy. "Any of you who have within you the power to persevere unto the next battle... I would insist that you accompany us. The tired, the wounded, and dead... they will be attended to when the threat is dealt with.” 

The request, if one construed the words of the Commander of the Temple Knights as such, was a hard one to make, and clearly one that plagued the man as he likely imagined how many of his kin he would be bringing to demise. The Whitebrim Front, however, was a key outpost in the war against the Dravanian Horde, and should it fall to the forces of Stone Vigil, the enemy would only be a stones throw away from Ishgard itself, where they could gather and grow their forces for almost constant assault. It was under such dire circumstance that Aymeric de Borel himself had taken to the field, riding swift from the Gates of Judgement and unto the patrol under assault, glad to find extra swords and slain dragons both.

Sergeant Reynard mentally counted how many of his own man were still standing of the patrol group, including the Penderghast boy and that dragoon, and the odds were not looking too favorable for their contribution to the Commander’s plans. "I’ll give you what I’ve got, Lord Commander, but what I’ve got ain’t much. Still, here’s to hopin’ we put a dent in the bastards some little bit with what we’ve done here. If the Front is in danger of fallin’, there’s naught else for it. Get ready to march, you lot! We’re under the command of Ser Aymeric now, so no slouchin’ or limpin’. If one of those blighters ripped your leg off, best pick up a lance and use it as a crutch, because you’ve still got some life in you to give for Ishgard.”

Life perhaps, but their resolve was low, crushed ‘neat the weight of the sudden ambush and seeing so many of their fellows falling in the first moments of the fight. However, their duty was ineffable, and thus they would fall in line with Ser Aymeric’s forces, and march to the aid of those in Whitebrim Front. The host was several hundred swords strong, moving as a storm across the highlands, pounding through the snow with the sight of the dragons just on the horizon. The beasts were already upon the walls... walls that had stood for centuries, and yet in a single swipe of his mighty claws could Isgebind himself pulverize the labors of a dozen stonemasons into nothing more than dust upon the wind. For Isgebind too had taken to the battlefield, awakening from his slumber within the Vigil’s ruins, seeking to claim for himself another prize from Thordan’s brood.

Brave men and women all, and even they took pause when upon their countenance was cast of the shadow of the one known as Isgebind, who unleashed a deafening roar that caused the rings of their mail to tremble. He unleashed a torrent of ice that erupted from within, catching all within its wake and plunging them into a frozen embrace. The sky was almost blackened with flapping wings and twisting forms of the draconic kind, while knights upon the walls and upon the ground struggled to bring their arms to bear against what was likely an unexpectedly swift siege. The ballistae above were still being prepared and loaded, with Dravanians harrying their every attempt with tooth and claw. 

“Sergeant, my men and I will take to the keep proper and drive the Dravanians from the grounds and the perimeter as well. If you could take your men up to the battlements and ensure that the ballistae are functional...” “It would be our pleasure, Lord Commander.” The two groups of forces split to set about their tasks, hoping that their actions would be enough to halt the fall of Whitebrim Front and again deprive the dragons of an integral victory. Defeat would only serve to place annihilation upon Ishgard’s doorstep once more. 

Reynard lead his group up onto the walls, where they were immediately set upon by dragons. Smaller, slithering things that could dart in and out of the battlements, commanded by a hulking monstrosity that walked upon two legs. It’s fist came crashing down at the sight of new foes, the force of the blow instantly crushing the bones of one of Whitebrim’s knights to dust and shards. Unwavering in moments when all others showed hesitation, the dragoon charged forward and used her lance to launch herself into the air, vaulting over the draconic monstrosity and landing upon its back. She drove her lance downward at the base of the neck, forcing the implement of her craft through scaly hide, sinewy muscle, and dense bone before it hit its mark of something soft and fleshy. The creature’s final utterance was an exploding cry to signal its death, and one last order to its subordinates: kill every last knight standing upon the wall.

[referentblood]

uhhhhh replaying bits and pieces of ffxiv for lore reasons info dump post (from arr)

religious dialogue

weather in coerthas

house haillenarte

skyfire locks

house fortemps 

the state of ishgard pre calamity

ishgardian knights beliefs

inquisitors

camp dragonhead

stone vigil

whitebrim front

house durendaire

snowcloak

medical care

[erahsae-ffxiv]

FFXIV RP Events for the Week of 2019.12.09

FFXIV RP Events for the week of 2019.12.09

Have an event you want to put on the Calendar?

Submit it here or send us an email.

This Week's Events:

Monday - 12/9/2019

10:00 PM to 1:30 AM EST - Midnight Orchid Night Cafe - [Zalera] Lavender Beds, Ward 5, Plot 15

Tuesday - 12/10/2019

2:00 PM to 5:00 PM EST - [M] The Rose of May Bar - [Balmung] Lavender Beds, Ward 2, Apt 65

3:00 PM to 6:00 PM EST - Wayward Star Bar - [Balmung] Mists Ward 14 Plot 2

8:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - [M] The Wishing Hour - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 43

9:00 PM to 1:00 AM EST - Gin Mill Backwoods Brawl - [Balmung] Eastern La Noscea - Raincatcher Gully Bridge

11:00 PM to 2:00 AM EST - Wyvern's Nest Tavern - [Mateus] Mist Ward 1, Plot 31

Wednesday - 12/11/2019

7:00 PM to 9:00 PM EST - Crystal Emporium - [Balmung] Shirogane, Ward 15, Plot 45

7:00 PM to 10:00 PM EST - Den of Desire - [Balmung] Lavender Beds 18 plot 35

7:00 PM to 10:00 PM EST - The Mog & Mug Tavern - [Balmung] Lavender Beds Ward 8, Plot 11

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - Bountiful Chest Holiday Tavern - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 6 Plot 5

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - Soul of the Dragon Restaurant - [Balmung] Shirogane Ward 9 Plot 37

9:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - The Burly Barnacle - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 12, Plot 50

10:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - [M] Voodoo Lounge Open Mic - [Mateus] Lavender Beds Ward 5 Plot 11

Thursday - 12/12/2019

7:00 PM to 9:00 PM EST - Oak's Tradepost - [Balmung] Mists Plot 29 Ward 2

8:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - [M] Lost & Found Bar Night - [Balmung] The Goblet, Ward 19, Plot 44

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - Sultana's Breath Shopping Arcade - [Balmung] Goblet W18, Sultana's Breath Subdivision

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - The Sleepy Nomad - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 6 Subdivision, Apt 70

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EST - The Dark Alements - [Mateus] Shirogane Ward 2, Plot 7

8:30 PM to 11:30 PM EST - Holistic Wellness Workshop - Starlight Survival Guide - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 35, Room 28

9:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - Seven Seas Smackdown - [Coeurl] Limsa Lower Decks (6, 15)

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - [M] Epoch Tavern (Open RP) - [Balmung] Mist Ward 11, Plot 2

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - Senpai's Bar - [Balmung] Lavander Beds Plot 23 Ward 7

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - Velvet Rose Lodge Open Bar - [Balmung] Lavender Beds, Ward 18, Plot 28

10:30 PM to 1:30 AM EST - Uranami Onsen Social Hour - [Mateus] Mist Ward 15, Plot 5

11:00 PM to 2:00 AM EST - Wyvern's Nest Tavern - [Mateus] Mist Ward 1, Plot 31

Friday - 12/13/2019

6:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - Maid's Basin Tavern night - [Mateus] Goblet, Ward 13, Plot 13

7:00 PM to 9:00 PM EST - Khuudas Imports - [Mateus] Shirogane Ward 18, Plot 28

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EST - The Cashmere Room - [Balmung] The Lavender Beds Plot 36, 15 Ward

8:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - Opal Imports & Lounge - [Mateus] Shirogane Ward 15, Plot 13

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - [M] Bluebonnet Vale - [Zalera] Lavender Beds, Ward 10, Lily Hills #21

8:00 PM to 2:00 AM EST - Midnight Orchid Night Cafe - [Zalera] Lavender Beds, Ward 5, Plot 15

9:00 PM to 11:30 PM EST - 2nd Annual Ishgardian Outreach & Public Starlight Feast - [Balmung] Ishgard, The Forgotten Knight

9:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - Bar Saisei Open Nights - [Balmung] Shirogane Ward 9, Plot 38

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - Bokh - Xaelic Wrestling - [Balmung] Mist, Ward 19, Subdivision Beach

9:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - [M] The Missed Mark Casino Night - [Mateus] Lavender Beds Ward 20, Plot 33

11:00 PM to 1:00 AM EST - [M] The Golden Whisker - Casino - [Mateus] The Goblet, Plot 5, Ward 16

Saturday - 12/14/2019

1:00 AM to 3:00 AM EST - Uranami Onsen Happy Hour - [Mateus] Mist: Ward 15, Plot 5

4:00 PM to 7:00 PM EST - Drunken Moogle Open RP - [Balmung] Lavender Beds, Ward 12, Plot 33

6:00 PM to 10:00 PM EST - Darklight Starlight Ball - [Balmung] Lavender Beds ward 14 plot 58

6:00 PM to 9:00 PM EST - The Garden of Words Book & Teashop - [Balmung] Lavender Beds Ward 8, Plot 27

6:30 PM to 10:00 PM EST - Mandragora Munchies - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 57

7:00 PM to 9:00 PM EST - [M] The Plume Cocktail Lounge - [Balmung] Goblet, Ward 11, Plot 3

7:00 PM to 10:00 PM EST - The Red Lion Job Faire - [Brynhildr] Goblet, Ward 10, Plot 51

7:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - [M] Wish Upon a Starlight Date Auction - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 43

8:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - [M] Lost & Found Bar Night - [Balmung] The Goblet, Ward 19, Plot 44

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EST - A Very Special Starlight Pearl-a-thon - [Balmung] Mists Ward 7 Plot 15

8:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - [M] The Wishing Hour - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 9, Plot 43

8:00 PM to 10:30 PM EST - The Winter Cafe - [Mateus] Ward 5, Plot 13, Goblet

9:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - [M] Open Bar Night at The Other Three Walls - [Zalera] Goblet Ward 15 Plot 5

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - Grindstone Tournament - [Balmung] Cen. Thanalan (21, 25)

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - The Sunken Seahorse Tavern - [Mateus] Mist, Ward 14 Plot 37

11:00 PM to 1:00 AM EST - [M] Mateus Munch - [Mateus] Goblet, Ward 19, Brimming Heart Subdivision

Sunday - 12/15/2019

10:00 AM to 1:00 PM EST - [M] Bluebonnet Vale - [Zalera] Lavender Beds, Ward 10, Lily Hills #21

4:00 PM to 6:00 PM EST - Three Dzo Moon - [Balmung] Mist Ward 19, Plot 44

5:00 PM to 7:00 PM EST - Get Lucky - Open Mic - [Balmung] Lavender Beds Ward 16 Plot 36

5:00 PM to 8:00 PM EST - Starlight Joust - [Balmung] Coerthas Central Highlands, Whitebrim Front

6:00 PM to 7:00 PM EST - Azim Bokh - [Mateus] Mist Ward 12, Beach

7:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - Starlight Market - [Balmung] Goblet Ward 3, Plot 13

7:00 PM to 10:00 PM EST - The Jeweled Cypress - [Mateus] Mist Ward 14, Plot 45

8:00 PM to 11:00 PM EST - Spellstone Tournament - [Balmung] Fesca's Wash, Central Thanalan

8:00 PM to 11:30 PM EST - The Second Ishgardian Frostfaire - [Balmung] The Hoplon, The Pillars, Ishgard

8:00 PM to 10:00 PM EST - The Snuggly Moogle Maid and Butler Café - [Mateus] Lavender Beds Ward 14 Plot 31

8:30 PM to 10:30 PM EST - The Fire Pit - [Mateus] The Goblet, Ward 5, Plot 60

10:00 PM to 12:00 AM EST - [M] Moulin Rouge Casino - [Mateus] Goblet Ward 5, Plot 30

11:00 PM to 2:00 AM EST - Wyvern's Nest Tavern - [Mateus] Mist Ward 1, Plot 31

View as a Calendar here.

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[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #3: Bloodhound

Prompt: Lost | Master Post | On AO3

Note: What happens when your carbuncle can track anything you tell her to? Four quests you don’t need to do! Also, the events of this story immediately follow from Entry #1: First Meetings. Mild spoilers for Shadowbringers MSQ in the very last section of the fic.

Not even Rereha was one to make light of a massacre, and that’s exactly what the remains of the caravan to Revenant’s Toll were. She scowled behind her scarf and tuggged her hat down more firmly over her ears. Bloody fucking cold.

The snow was rapidly covering the charred remains of the wagons, and the blood from where Ishgardian knights fell. Heron and Alakhai were speaking to the House Fortemps knight in charge of the guards here, whereas Synnove and all three of her carbuncles were stalking the perimeter. Tyr and Ivar were mostly clearing the snow for Galette, who had her nose to the ground, sniffing intently at everything.

Rereha narrowed her eyes. Galette wasn’t even complaining about the cold and snow, which meant she might have something.

Heron and Alakhai joined her, both looking over at Galette. The Hellsguard and the Xaela exchanged a look, then looked down at Rereha. She blinked back at them. “What’d ya learn?” she said, voice muffled through her layers of scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face.

“One survivor,” Alakhai said.

“A squire, currently recuperating over at the Observatorium,” Heron added.

“And the cargo included crystals. All gone.”

Rereha tilted her head towards Synnove and the carbuncles. Galette was circling in one spot, ears pricking straight up like a hare’s. She drawled, “We going to bother untangling that thread?”

Alakhai snorted. Heron grinned, the white of her teeth blinding against her deep russet skin.

“Didn’t think so,” Rereha said. “So: who’s telling the bunny?”

The trio looked at one another, then over at Synnove. She was already scowling back at them, one finger on her nose.

“How does she do that?” Rereha muttered, her tone that of someone who has asked the question countless times before, and will continue to ask countless times into the future. She turned her attention back to the other members of their group—and scowled ferociously. “Oh, fuck you both!”

Heron and Alakhai also had their forefingers touching their noses.

Rereha held up both middle fingers at them; the pair merely laughed at her.

Still scowling, she shoved her gloved hand up under the earflap of her hat to tap her linkpearl cuff. “Oi, bunny, pick up.”

Indignant sputtering came over the line. “Rereha, how many more times must I ask not to call me that?”

“All of them, because I don’t give a fuck. Put the ‘pearl on open speaker so Haurchefant and that dreamy tall glass of water can hear me.”

“REREHA REHA.” Oh dear gods, she was never going to get tired of scandalizing that boy, it was almost too easy.

“Shall I take that as a compliment, then?”

Rereha grinned wolfishly as the voice of Ser Aymeric’s blonde Second echoed across the linkpearl. “Ma’am, please do. I will write songs about how badly I’d like to climb you like a tree, and get thrown out of the Quicksand by Momodi until I get new material because I won’t stop and the patrons are bored.”

Both Haurchefant and the Temple Knight’s laughter came through that time, easily drowning out Alphinaud’s sputtering. Heron and Alakhai rolled their eyes, and Synnove gestured rudely from the other end of the caravan to stop flirting and hurry it up.

“Anyway, one of the squires survived, he’s currently at the Observatorium, but we’ll—”

“I will meet you there, once we have his report we can best decide how to—”

“Alphinaud, we aren’t doing that.”

“—I beg your pardon?”

Rereha sighed. Loudly. “Alphinaud, bunny: you are more than welcome to acquire the squire’s report yourself, but there is only one reason I can think of for why a bunch of heretics want an obscene amount of crystals. What they intend to summon, I don’t know, and I don’t care, but we need to quash this now.”

She nodded to herself in satisfaction as a horrified silence clearly settled over the command room back at Camp Dragonhead.

She continued, “As I was going to say before your eagerness to lead the charge interrupted me, there’s one survivor at the Observatorium, but we won’t be heading that way, since Galette has gotten the scent. We’ll be following her.”

There was a long moment of quiet over the line, before the Temple Knight asked, somewhat incredulously, “She can do that?”

“Ma’am,” Rereha said respectfully, “Galette knows when the Bismarck is making chocolate pudding pie for their daily dessert special from Three Malm Bend at the northern end of Middle La Noscea, and won’t stop begging Synnove for a slice until they actually go get it. She can absolutely sniff out an obscene amount of aether-charged crystals and blood-covered heretics in the middle of a blizzard.”

“What about aetheric interference from—”

“Alphinaud,” and she was much less respectful and far more annoyed now, “before you finish that question, I’d like to remind you that the assessors of Mealvaan’s Gate know every trick in the smuggler’s book for trying to get illicit cargo into Limsa Lominsa, Galette has a one hundred percent success rate, and Synnove will have no qualms about throwing you off the Aftcastle if you question her carbuncle’s abilities and programming.”

Alphinaud’s mouth snapped closed with an audible clack of teeth. “…Duly noted. My apologies.”

Rereha hummed noncommittally. “In any event, we’re off. We’ll check back in once we’ve got a location. Toodles!” She snapped the line closed and dropped her hand from her ear.

“All right, let’s move out!”

~~

The quartet followed the trio of carbuncles on their chocobos, their mounts all used to following the lead of the aether constructs. It was especially helpful now, with the blizzard raging through the highlands reducing visibility: the glow of Galette and Tyr and Ivar kept the birds from veering off course.

Galette lead them northwest from the caravan ruins for at least two bells, across Boulder Downs in near a straight line. She bounded through the snow, veering around the great impact craters that scarred the landscape from Dalamud’s fall. Eventually, the came right up to the cliff wall of one of the smaller Coerthan peaks; Galette was sniffing frantically back and forth at a section of rockface, growling in frustration, and the group came up on their chocobos.

Synnove looked around cautiously. “Tunnels, perhaps?”

“Aye,” Alakhai said. “Lord Drillemont muttered about it once to Haurchefant, he suspects it’s how the heretics are able to move so quickly throughout Coerthas.”

Heron had pulled a map out, holding it up practically to her nose to read it as the wind howled around them. She nodded, rolled it up, and slid it back into its tube on her saddle. “We’re not far from Daniffen Pass,” she called out. “Let’s take that up to Whitebrim and see if Galette can pick the trail back up from there!”

Synnove whistled sharply. All three carbuncles immediately darted over; Chantilly braced herself, and Tyr leaped onto the pillion pad right behind Synnove, with Galette scrambling to take her customary place around Synnove’s neck, and Ivar settling into the saddle in front of his mama. Galette, rather than trying to snuggle down into Synnove’s fur-lined jacket, had her ears still pricked and face turned due northwest, even as the group turned their chocobos northeast towards the pass.

“I don’t think she’s losing the trail at all,” Rereha said once they made it to the tunnel that would take them into the Whitebrim region. She shook the snow off herself, and brushed it free of Madrigal’s feathers; the jennet warked her thanks.

And, indeed, Galette’s nose was still pointing towards where the heretics had likely buggered off to, almost true west, now. Synnove reached up to scratch behind her ears, and Galette gave a quiet purr, but the normally sugar-obsessed carbuncle was currently all business. The group lapsed into a comfortable silence as they proceeded through the pass.

When they emerged from the tunnel, the storm had finally dissipated, and night had fallen. Another half a bell and they crested the rise, Ishgard rising from the Sea of Clouds far north of them; the inviting lights of the fortifications of the Whitebrim Front flickered a malm off.

And Galette was staring due west. She flickered an ear and chittered quietly. Mommy, it’s that way.

Synnove gave her another ear scratch. “Snowcloak,” she said.

Heron nodded grimly. “Probably not their only encampment, either. If they’re able to move between Snowcloak and Boulder Downs undetected so easily…”

Alakhai grimaced. “At least one traitor or sympathizer at one of the Ishgardian outposts,” she said.

“And they have a golden opportunity to move their troops in such a way they can potentially surround an attacking force,” Rereha finished.

“What a fine mess,” Synnove drawled.

When the four friends made the gates at the Whitebrim Front, they were met by Lord Drillemont himself. As grooms took their chocobos to the stables, the Durendaire lord led the group into the command post and up to his office. They were met with mugs of hot cider, bowls of thick stew (even for the carbuncles)—and one Ser Aymeric, who had apparently been conferring with Lord Drillemont over the defenses.

Rereha took especial pleasure in noting that both the Lord Commander and Synnove seemed to perk up at the sight of one another. As she ate her dinner, she listened as Lord Drillemont shared what information the lone survivor of the caravan had acquired, confirming that this Iceheart and her followers were apparently planning to summon a primal. Heron and Synnove gave the full report of their investigation, and Rere snickered quietly as Ser Aymeric turned an appreciative gaze on both Synnove and Galette.

“You are a most remarkable creature, little miss,” he said to Galette. “And Ishgard is grateful for your assistance in verifying our suspicions about how Iceheart and her followers have evaded justice for so long.” The carbuncle preened at the attention, sitting up primly and draping her tails about her elegantly.

Rere’s Echo pinged again.

“And of course, I must thank her summoner for such superb guidance and aptitude,” Ser Aymeric said to Synnove, smiling at her.

Wait, no. Was that a purr? That was definitely a purr. Oh, and he had not hidden that well, because Alakhai was Looking at him and Heron had narrowed her eyes. And Synnove was absolutely blushing.

Rereha grinned into her mug of cider. This was going to be fantastic.

~~

“And that, my lovely little fox kit,” Rereha said cheerfully, “is why you don’t leave anything sweet unattended if you want to eat it yourself, but also why if you want something found, you go ask Galette!”

Ryne clapped in delight, smiling fit to burst. Synnove had her elbows braced on the table and her face in her hands, and she sighed as Heron patted her on the head. Alakhai merely snickered.

“Fuck’s sake, Rere,” Synnove said, voice muffled. “Did you have to include that much side commentary?”

“Yes,” Rere said with a firm nod. “I made a promise to myself: no leaving the story half-finished. Not anymore.”

tag: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[n-esryn]

LFRP PROFILE — N’esryn Elizabeth Des’Rosiers

CHARACTER INFO –––

Ethnicity: one forth Midlander & Elezen, Half Seeker of The Sun

Nationality: Ishgardian

Worshiped Deity:  Halone, Goddess of war

Profession: Chirurgeon

Age: 20+

Name Day: First Astral Moon 27th Sun

Height: 5′1′’

Sexuality: Asexual

Hair: Light Honey Brown, mid-shoulder length, layered either in a side low ponytail/braid or in a bun when she is working.

Eyes: Pale Pink (wears red eye shadow along the corners of her eyes)

Complexion: Ivory, with dusty rose lips and a slight dusting of soft pink along her cheeks.

Personality: She often seems like she is in a constant state of solemn calmness or as if she is in mourning.Yet her overall aura projects a subtle hint of a motherly kindness. Choosing to keep her emotions under control, you’ll probably muster out an occasional small smile from her. Be it brief, she’ll offer as much moral support and care she can that is within her power to keep a wounded knight/soldier at ease.  

Scars/Birthmarks: N’esryn has a medium length horizontal deep scar across her left cheek. Its usually hidden by some of her hair that frame her face. As for birthmarks, she has a few small ones that speckle her neck and one along her jawline.

Tattoos: she has one small horizontal white crescent shaped tattoo on her upper right cheek, just below her eye (probably as a tradition of the Aldgoat tribe N’esryn’s mother place that on her).

Apparel: N’esryn can be seen using a full black company tabard in her down time when she is off duty as a Chirurgeon. However she wears the Chirurgeon issued uniform when she is at work (she probably wears the company tabard below the robes). She also wears the full plate and chain mail armor with shield, when she is stationed at the Temple Knight Infirmary or when she is assigned to aid the knights in the front lines. Other from that she wears appropriate outfits suitable for the cold weather in Ishgard or Coerthas.

RELATIONSHIPS –––

Material Status: Single (too work focused to think of getting into a relationship)

Parents:  Father—Cyril Gaspard Des’Rosiers (♰) Mother—N’esryn Larho (♰)

Known Relatives: Great Uncle– Count Baurendouin de Haillenarte, Cousins — Stephanivien de Haillenarte, Chlodebaimt de Haillenarte, Aurvael de Haillenarte,Francel de Haillenarte and Laniatte de Haillenarte.

Acquaintances: Bodyguard/civil friendship with her Keeper of the Moon retainer S’ano.  

Pets: Fatter Cat named Gary

RUMOURS –––

Ward of High House Haillenarte, she is neither spoken of or does not exist within the Family’s ranks. N’esryn was raised in secret along side her cousins of House Haillenarte. Due to so many accusations of heresy put upon Haillenarte, the young Miqo’te’s existence was kept in secret.

Forgotten House, Either little known or not mentioned at all—House Des’Rosiers is a small branch of the once respected High House Haillenarte of Ishgard. While the main branch focused on weapon production such as canons etc.—House Des’Rosiers stood behind the scenes and focused on importing supplies for the production of steel and other goods.

Intermingling among non Elezen, House Des’Rosiers is a lesser or smaller branch off of the High House Haillenarte. Because they are a lesser noble house, martial affairs/arrangements aren’t as strict.

Illegitimate heir? Due to the fact N’esryn was born under rare circumstances—her father’s family were more or less reluctant to care for young N’esryn in his absence. Being called to serve as a knight once again for the protection of Ishgard, he begged his great uncle to care for his child. (a few years before the Calamity and fall of Stone Vigil)

Last of Her House, the only child and heir to house Des’Rosiers.(Her father claimed her as his heir—ultimately legitimizing her to whatever claim to wealth and land was hers by birthright).

Etiquette, as is her birthright, N’esryn was given an education suitable for a lady. Like ways of the court, how to act, how to sit, keep conversation as well as well versed on history, politics, economy and language (she does needle point in her spare time when she isn’t working or knits).

MORE INFO  –––  

Conjurer — While N'esryn is a proficient Chirurgeon, she is a capable to preform Ishgardian conjury in order to heal the knights or wounded soldiers that are out fighting in the front lines.  

You are safe — After losing her father when Stone Vigil was overrun by the Dravanian Horde, N’esryn decided to become a Chirurgeon. Learning what she could about alchemy to provide healing elixirs, or potions for the wounded knights or the ailing poor who wander about foundation. Though she is a qualified Chirurgeon, she is often stationed to assist the main Chirurgeon in different areas of Coerthas (wherever she is needed the most)—wheather it is in Temple Knight Infirmary, Whitebrim, Falcon’s Nest, Camp Cloud top or Camp Dragonhead.

Aether — N’esryn is aether sensitive, and becomes rather weak or sick when she comes across corrupted aether.

An old trinket — N’esryn’s prized possession is a book her Father gave her before leaving her to the care of his great uncle. It’s more than likely a book of either old poems, or Shakespearean stories.

RP HOOKS –––-

DO YOU NEED HEALING? — N’esryn is usually found in the Coerthas central Highlands tending to the wounded. From time to time you’ll find her in Foundation caring for the sick or severely wounded at the Temple Knight Infirmary.

Field Medic --- After the Calamity, Ishgard was left vulnerable to oncoming Dravanian Hoard attacks. Because of this, most of the Chirurgeons capable of preforming healing spells are recruited into the Temple Knights when needed. N’esryn being those few Chirurgeons sent into the front lines to apply emergency healing or first aid to wounded knights.

Eyes downcast — Often when she is able to return to Ishgard for work, she is overlooking the vast snow covered mountain range near The Last Vigil or turned to the direction of Stone Vigil—probably in deep thought or taking in the quiet stillness of the cold wind and snowfall.

Alchemy — She is constantly gathering supplies to create healing potions or elixirs.Or testing to find the right chemical balance to create stronger healing potions. (she is almost always reading or taking notes whenever an idea comes to mind)

Winter Rose — N’esryn very much remembers when Coerthas use to be lush and green. Within a journal she keeps, she has dried pressed flowers between a few pages. They were small wild flowers her father would send her in his letters before the Calamity.

Unknown Origins — N’esryn has very little memories of her mother before she died. All of what she knows of her mother is what her father has told her through letters or from the short time they were together. All she knows is that she shares her mother’s name and that she too was a Miqo’te. With that being said N’esryn knows nothing of the traditions of a Seeker of The Sun Miqo’te nor anything that has to do with any Miqo’te history besides the general history within books.

RPer INFO  –––

FFXIV Server: Mateus

Please note this is a side blog of my personal, if you choose to follow me on this blog I will be following back via pockethealer. <3

I will not do any ERP with N’esryn. I’m still on the fence of shipping her or not, so for right now she is Unshippable unless I feel comfortable enough to see the ship through. I mostly prefer slow burn ships but whatever happens happens.

I will RP dark themes, serious, friendships and funny rps—-oh and just casual fun lighthearted RPs with just banter.

More information can be found in my RULES page within my blog~

[i-too-saw]

🕯️ The Basics:

Name: Nolanel Feran Age: 21 Race: Wildwood/Ishgardian Elezen Gender: Male Sexuality: Bisexual Martial Status: Single Server: Balmung

🕯️   Physical Appearance:

Hair: A near to shoulder-length mop of thick, curly hair Eyes: Ice blue Height: 6′6″ Build: Strong and somewhat lithe with broad shoulders and built legs. Distinguishing Marks: Scars on his forehead and right cheek, and, although always covered, burns on his hands and legs. Common Accessories: Always a clip on his left ear.

🕯️  Personal:

Profession: Dragoon aligned with House Durendaire. Hobbies: Going to church, reading the Enchiridion, hunting, blacksmithing, dissociating Languages: Common Residence: His family lives in the Brume but he’s most commonly at Congregation, Whitebrim, or wherever he’s stationed. Birthplace: Coerthan Lowlands Patron Deity: Halone the Fury Fears: A Lot. (dragons, heresy, acid, malboros, burns, shameful death, injury, sin, fear itself, social gatherings, etc.)

🕯️   Relationships:

Spouse: None Children: None Parents: Ruelle Feran and Luciane Feran -- he views them both negatively but actively loathes his mother. Siblings: None Other Relatives: None Pets: His war chocobo, Marcasite.

🕯️   Traits:

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / unemphatic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between

faithful / unfaithful / in between

🕯️  additional information:

Smoking Habit: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Drugs: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Alcohol: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

🕯️ Possible Hooks:

The Dragonsong War:

If your character fought for Ishgard at any point, there’s a good chance they shared a battlefield with Nolanel. He just might not thank them for it at first.

If your character is also in the Ishgardian military, chances are you’ve come across him as well. Nolanel spends the most time at Whitebrim Front and Falcon’s Nest. He gets the most along with fellow soldiers.

But if they’re a heretic, Nolanel’s really not gonna like them.

Ishgard:

Nolanel spends an inordinate amount of time at Saint Reymanaud’s Cathedral. He’ll sit in on successive Masses on end making annotations in his pocket Enchiridion.

Although Nolanel avoids alcohol, he drops in on the Forgotten Knight occasionally while visiting the Brume. Whatever money he hasn’t pressed into the palms of beggars goes into food.

Anyone who isn’t Ishgardian gets a cold stare from Nolanel. He’s probably waiting for them to screw up so he can rationalize his xenophobia. Interrupting the order of the city-- or Ishgardian doctrine-- is sure to get him on his feet (and fight, if need be).

Nolanel can be found in other Heavensward areas like the Sea of Clouds and Dravanian Forelands doing patrols and looking for dragons to stab.

Coerthas and Gridania

Nolanel spent the first 14 years of his life in the Coerthan Lowlands, and he visits to chill out when he can. He used to be a ranch hand and he likes to help out in the fields too. In the same line, if your character’s estate is out in the backwoods he probably isn’t too far away.

Heretic hunting can take you to unexpected places. Nolanel occasionally patrols the borders of Ishgard, and that can get him into conflict with the Ixal and occasionally some Gridanians. Sometimes he’ll cross the border, but he tries to check in with the Adders at Fallgourd Float.

He used to mine! And he totally hated it! But he can point your character in the right direction and guilt himself into coming along if they’re looking to plunge into coal and grime.

Nolanel’s a good swimmer as long as the water isn’t 90% frozen. He’s also really terrible at fishing, which he sticks to more often because he hates showing skin. In emulation of Saint Daniffen, he’s starting spear fishing.

Other

Nolanel has an acute moral sense and will intervene in what he sees is unlawful and wrong (but he has loopholes based on bigotry and fear, so he acts according to that about outsiders, voidsent, heresy, etc.)

I’m willing to send him to Gyr Abania as part of Ishgard’s participation in liberation, but other city states are a bit trickier. We can try to work something out if need be!

What I’m Looking For:

Making contacts! I’m not very good at tavern talk and neither is Nolanel but I’m willing to try my best! Nolanel’s mind is very busy, so he works best with something to occupy him outside of conversation like working together on something. Since he can be an intolerant twit, antagonism’s totally all right. I can do fights, too (just ask if you want to do any long-standing injuries). Shipping and multi-shipping’s all right as long as it makes sense for both parties!

Otherwise, I don’t ERP at all. Also, Nolanel wouldn’t be interested in training a non-Ishgardian in the dragoon arts.

OOCly, I Am:

Brianna! I’m 20 and I may be an alligator since I live in Florida. I’m also a v shy bean.

You Can Contact Me Via:

Here, which is my new sideblog for Tumblr RP. But you can also find me on my main @newty​ and my FFXIV blog @theseventhdawn​. If we’re mutuals, you can also ask for my Discord! I’m not often in-game unless I have something planned, but ofc I’ll log if you want to plot, RP, or do some PVE!

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FFXIV 30 Day Screenshot Challenge

22) C is for Coerthas Central Highlands

It’s funny, I disliked this zone when I initially leveled through the MSQ the first time; the Ishgardian High House and Religious politics were really frustrating! I had to do every quest, too, because I needed to level to continue the MSQ, and I was still scared of duty finder back then (a result of WoW’s more nasty LFG community; while FFXIV has its pills and elitists, the community is more forgiving and friendly and helpful overall, thanks to how the roulettes are set up). I worried what would happen when I had to come back here for the patch content and then actually go to Ishgard for Heavensward. Little did I know how much I would end up loving this place and these silly stuffy elezen...