#nazyl

[mokkri-valandiel]

Gunning for More

“Even if it takes generations ta make even an ilm of progress, if ye don't stop fightin' 'em, eventualleh ye'll cut through." Nazyl said, "Givin' up, like the people o' Kholusia do...then yeah, yer alreadeh doomed then."

"You'll find, well, ..." Morgan canted his head left and right. Nazyl wasn't wrong for the whole there, "...Yes, the majority of Kholusia in their stagnant choice. "Plenty up in arms in Norvrandt."

Mokkri twists her fingers in her lap uncomfortably.

"Thoughts to voice, Mokkri?" Morgan asks.

Nazyl huffed. If it wasn't obvious by now his feelings were strong on the subject.... "This place though....I can get used ta the Crystarium. Everehone works hard fer a future they ain't even certain of, n' that's the kinda stuff I find inspirin'." He folds his hands together, "I'll throw me lot in with 'em. If Eulmore wants ta try n' pay m back fer me message, I'll send 'em back bloodeh n' limpin'."

"I--just feel bad. I'm not 'up in arms'. I'm--" Mokkri shrugs. "I'm comfortable here, it's true."

"Feel bad why?" Nazyl asks.

"I'm not contributing in the same way. My life is never on the line. My convictions are never tested. I am safe so long as the Crystal Exarch and the tower are here. But--you speak very highly of action and I'm not acting..." Mokkri grimaced at her knees.

Nazyl smirked, shaking his head with a chuckle, "Oh no no, lass the reason I lik this place is that everehthin' works tagethah. Not everehone is a fightah."

"Right, I wouldn't compare contributions like that, but," Morgan shrugged, pushing himself off the counter.  They had been over this. He scooped up the supplies he's brought in and pushed open the door to a smaller room. OUt of sight for a time, but lights flick on."

Nazyl: "In fact, it'd be bad if everehone was. WHo'd manage the supplies? Who would make the equipment? Who'd feed all of 'em?"

"I'd reckon that yer contributions are actualleh far more important than goin' out n' bleedin' the beasts. By stayin' here n' keepin' folks well equipped, ye ensure they live n' have a place ta come back ta." Nazyl spoke firmly.

“Hm." is all Mokkri has to say.

Nazyl settled in the chair some, "It's teamwork. We go n' fight, mayhaps get beat up a bit, come back n' be able ta eat good food, get our gear maintained, have the best medicine available. Without aneh o' that, this place would have fallen a long time ago I reckon. So don't feel like ye have ta fight. I ain't gonn stop ye if ye do, I'm in no place ta do that, heh."

Morgan kept in view, laying out a mattress on the floor now that he's in something relatively more comfortable. He keeps the gloves on. "Has that answer been consistent enough from one more person now?" Morgan asked, amused.  These sort of peptalks are likely common in the Crystarium of all places.

"Fight if ye feel like ye realleh need ta, n' I'll be right b'side ye. Fightin' alone...ain't recommended, from personal experience.” Nazyl rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

[heartwoodventures]

Primary Access Required: A Thirst For More

As the members of Heartwood started to gather within the manor they would be met with the Head Medic dressed in rather warm winter attire, the look on her face however showed the news she had wasn't good. Looking around the crowd a soft sigh slipped past her lips as she figured out the best way to tell the news.

"As you all know, an Ishgardian Knight had brought a job for Heartwood. Yesterday Tynos and I had gone ahead to investigate the area to make sure everything was safe. But what we were met with is something we weren't expecting, we came across the body of the Knight who had given us the job, he was found depleted of aether and left for dead in the cold. A paralyzing bullet was found stuck to his armor, the other object found was rather....odd. I have no words for it. It was allagan made but there was flesh around the limbs." She paused a moment. "I am no expert with allagan but if any of you are, Tynos does have the object in question. So please pay him a visit to help us better understand this object, we also have to unlock it somehow, there's a code to it but at the time we're unable to crack it."

The young sorceress Edda peered up from her steaming cup. "...Do you happen to have a copy of the sequence written down?"

Lumarto's ears perked at the mention of allagan-made objects. "Haila and I worked on Allagan contraptions in the past, so we can investigate into the bullet with time. She would obviously have more experience in it than I." Luma said, remaining leaned against the counter.

Amasar furrows his brow. So much of what was said had just gone over his head. He looked around at the others to gauge their reaction to the explanation.

"Apologies but I don't, if you wish I can give Tynos a call after this so that he may bring it to the house so that others can take a look at it." G’lewra offered.

Livia Arkwright shook her head. Allagan was apparently not her strong suit.

"Oh, I don't need to examine the machine directly. I just need it to spit out the aforementioned code." Edda pointed out.

Well, at the very least, Amasar won't feel alone in his confusion. Sval'li's expression is... woefully blank. He's attentive, he just has no clue what's being conveyed. Allagans? That's said in a way that seems like it should hold significance.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn nods knowingly, feigning understanding. But truth be told, she doesn’t understand the first thing about Allagan thingamabobs and whazzits.

"Aside from examining this... thing, what can we do?" Amasar asked curiously. 

"I wish to go back to this area and see if we can find more of this....thing." G’lewra wasn't even sure what to call it. "Perhaps track where it's coming from and why it's going around draining people of aether."

Full Logs here!

[lettersnorth]

The Crystal Man Pt. II

The small band of Heartwood’s mercenaries stood in a collected huddle at the edge of Witchdrop, staring down into the shadowy depths with a variety of expressions on display. Most of them the grim sort. Tracking their quarry through the frozen land had been enough to set several teeth on edge. A party of Seekers, Seawolves, Plainsfolk and Ala Mhigans, not one of them had ever known a cold like this. Even now, Aislinn edged closer to the arcane fire Khora had called forth into his hand. What had begun as a sputtering flame grew stronger the more composed the Seeker became. It was strong enough now to radiate a gentle heat. 

“Damn this frosted place." Y’ahn muttered. 

"Bloodeh h-hells ye can feel the void's chill....ye sure he’s down there?" Nazyl shivered as his small frame leaned over as far as he dared to gaze down into the depths. 

“Void? Like...ghosts?" Aiswyda stuttered. She had only heard of this place before, but figured all the rumors around it were just that. Standing here now though, it definitely felt haunted.

"Any Elezen that decided to willingly wander down there wouldn't exactly be 'sane' in my book." Aislinn noted as she tucked her hands under her arms. “Not with this place’s history.” 

Nazyl nodded, not lifting his gaze from the silent dark below. “This place is a breedin' ground fer 'em. Long time ago as it were, when Ishgard was less....acceptin', they'd throw anehone even accused o' hereseh down this hole."

Aiswyda turned to Aislinn with a worried glance, looking to her to figure out if she should be nervous or not. Catching the Seawolf’s eye, all Aislinn could do was shrug. The lalafell wasn’t wrong. Though there was little they could do about the Drop’s fabled history. If their man was down there, they either went after him or forgo the contract. 

"Witchdrop certainly does have a dark history. Wouldn't surprise me a bit if all that negative energy decided to hang around. If the man's down there, we should be careful." she told Aiswyda in all honesty. She saw little point in sugar coating it. 

There was talk of sending half the party down to investigate but in the end, no one was willing to be the cowardly sort that stayed behind while their compatriots did the hard work, so one by one, they slid down the embankment to a small ledge that ran down into the Drop’s depths. The world of white above disappeared the further the group descended, the darkness settling heavy and oppressive on them all as chatter slowly fell away until eventually they moved in wordless silence. 

N’yami reached the chasm floor first and soon held up a hand that brought the rest of them to a halt. Eyes and ears straining through the gloom it soon became apparent they weren’t alone in the echoing depths. With a flick of her hand, N’yami pointed out the muted form of a duskwight, crouched down, picking at something in the snow. Edges of movement just catching enough light to make out the figure. 

“Well. That’s a bit out of place.” she murmured. 

Several of their number followed her gaze and watched as the duskwight eventually uncovered a frozen corpse and hefted it over his shoulder.  

"The hells? Is he grave robbin'?” Nazyl sputtered in surprise. “Though I can't say those here would have a peaceful rest, but that don't mattah. OI!" He called out. Subtlety wasn't his forte.

The elezen swiftly looked up at the group, and approached with a smile. From a brief glance, he looked completely fine, and seemed to radiate a comforting sort of heat in the chilly weather. A detail, that while tempting to this group of warm climate folk, was nevertheless disconcerting. 

“Ah, what a large group of people! What brings you down here?” The stranger said, still hefting the frozen corpse upon his shoulders with ease. 

Nazyl quickly scanned the man's face. He didn't seem like he had crystal in or around him, "'Scuse us, what're ye doin' with that bodeh there?"

“These poor victims don’t deserve a shallow grave of snow and ice. Sometimes I come by to give them a proper burial, away from Witchdrop.”

The group passed each other a handful of looks that said down to a one, none of them was put at ease by this explanation. Nor were they sure of what to make of the man’s altogether calm and rational demeanor. This wasn’t the usual state in which they found those who had become crystal tainted and it set them off their footing. As Nazyl continued to converse with the strange man, N’yami turned to the rest of them, her ruby eyes glittering in the darkness. 

"Is that the person we're looking for?" she asked. 

Khora shrugged. "I don't know? Is he covered in crystal? Or is that snow?"

"I...Well, the intel does say we're looking for an elezen. And I'm assuming that not many people come down here for fun, so...yes?" Aiswyda ventured. 

"They might send someone down here to clean up corpses from time to time?" Y’ahn proposed. 

Aislinn reached up and quietly slid the gun from her back, regardless.

Koh followed suit, keeping his hands on his weapons, ready if need be, though he did turn back to the man, waiting for a lull in the conversation before asking, "Seen anything suspicious down here? Looking for an individual, would have seemed...out of sorts."

“To be honest, you lot are the most suspicious thing I’ve seen all week!” The elezen laughed, and strangely, the air grew warmer as he did so. “Though I suppose, there was that group earlier, that came down just to ask me how I was feeling. Otherwise, it’s the usual. Just a few like minded folks, but we mostly keep to ourselves.”

Khora ears fell over his head.  He was beginning to grow impatient, a feeling expressed by that furrow in his brow.  "No one in their right mind would come down here to 'see how someone is feeling.'  And how long have you been down here?  Long enough for two separate parties to venture down here?"

The man, who offered up the name Ifoux, dodged the question. In fact, he seemed very apt at dodging most of their questions. Something that soon grated on the more hot blooded among them. One heated argument and a report of gun fire later, the man hurriedly tried to make peace, smoothing the way by offering to continue this conversation back at his hut, where it was assuredly warmer than the depths of the chasm. He led the group back to his home in the wilderness where he made his living as a hunter. A hunter who apparently felt called upon to plumb the depths of Witchdrop and bring up the bodies from time to time. 

After hastily burying the retrieved corpse in a freshly dug grave, the elezen ushered them all into his home though he continued to nervously look back now and again at Khora’s gunblade. Khora, for his part, was now quiet. Listening. Piercing silver eyes refused to leave Ifoux as less and less the Seeker trusted the elezen.

They all huddled around the small hut’s cooking fire as Ifoux poured them each a cup of hot pine tea. Several of their number politely refused but Aislinn wordlessly accepted a cup. Though she had no intention of drinking it, she let her freezing hands curl around the warmth it provided as the conversation continued, each one of them trying and failing to pin down the wily man who was either completely clueless to the strange heat he was putting off or he knew very well that it wasn’t natural and was doing his level best to fend them off. The last thing one wished to be this close to Ishgard was unnatural. 

Nazyl quirked a brow at the man. "Have ye always lived here then?”

Ifoux took a dried karakul haunch off from a dangling string, and tossed it into a pot. “I’ve lived here for as long as I remember. It’s a simple life, hunting and living off the land.” He tossed in some garlic and popotos into the stewpot alongside the karakul. “...though things have been a bit odd, as of late.”

"So we've heard. What's the odditehs ye've heard about?"

“Something is...grave robbing my makeshift cemetery. The entire body goes missing, and all I’m left with is a hole. At this rate, eventually my cemetery will just be a collection of deep ditches.” The elezen stopped stirring, and looked down in defeat. “No tracks. It always happens at night sometime though. I’ve tried staying up to catch the graverobber, but I can never seem to stay up the entire time.” Ifoux looked at everyone with hopeful eyes. “You lot are adventurers right? Perhaps you could help.”

Aislinn North slid a questioning glance N'yami's way before looking back to the Elezen with a considered gaze. "Suppose...we could see our way to doing that." she spoke up. 

Honestly, this entire venture was turning odder by the moment. Why not lie in wait for a graverobber to boot?

(To be continued!)

[blooms-of-ice]

RP Log: Wyda and Nazyl catch up on each others’ busy lives

Nazyl Tharazyl found himself at the Heartwood residence yet again, his steps a tad lighter than usual. The night before seemed to have been rather eye opening. Seeing the lobby empty again, he deigned to head downstairs to see who he would find tonight, "Anehone here?" He hadn't made it to the bottom of the stairs yet.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn loiters in the company bar, a neat row of empty bottles forming a wall between her and the empty seat across from her. A familiar voice, and one that she hadn’t heard in several moons, calls out. “I’m here. Who’ss here?” She responds in kind, speech slightly slurred.

Nazyl Tharazyl made it to the bottom, not wearing his typical silver armor, "Mm? Oh, evenin'! Yer uh..." He blanked, hand raising to his head, "Well this is embarrassin'. I'm sure i know yer name, but I mighta taken a few too maneh blows ta the head recentleh..."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Nazyl?! Nazyl!” She gets up and slams her hands on the table, causing a couple of the bottles to topple over. “Huh?! It’s...It’s Wyda. Blows to the head? What... what’s happened to you?” Seeing the lalafell dressed in non-armor comes as a surprise to her as well. Is this really Nazyl, or simply someone who walks and talks an awful lot like him?

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Wyda...OH!" He snaps his fingers, "That's right, we were tryin' ta break ye outta prison! Gods, how long has it been...?" He went red, seeing how she seemed to remember him, but the reverse wasn't exactly true, "Gah, sorreh. I've been buseh huntin' a terrible demon that terrorizes the oceans. It's been...a stressful time." He approached the table, climbing into a stool, "Where do i even start?"

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Glad ta see ye've been proven innocent....I hope that's what happened, right? I ain't been around..."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn shakes her head and laughs. “Far too long it seems...Though you never struck me as the forgetful type. Must’ve gotten a good conk on the head, eh?” She settles back into her seat and pushes the empty bottles to the side with a noticeable lack of grace. “There’s a lot to catch up on...hah! But why not start at the beginning of your tale? What sorta demon were you chasing after?”

Nazyl Tharazyl removed his hat and shook his head to rufle his hair, setting the cap on the table, "Hooboy. So...a disclaimah, the hunt itself is s'posed ta be confidential. I don't think I can take on othah huntahs without some...complications." He cleared his throat, "But, it started when I was called ta accept a platinum level leve, ta find n' slay a terrible voidsent by the name o' Focalor. All the info I had was that it was aquatic, n' that it was approachin' from the Sea of Ash."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn tries to take a sip from her bottle, only to find it empty. She peers up into it, giving it a disappointed shake. “Fo..Focalor? And did you find the bugger?”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "I've taken some folks I can trust ta deal with such awful creatures, includin' Yami. Shar uh...sorta came inta the scene on her own, was tryin' ta avoid that." He sighed, "We prepared by aidin' some Sahagin so we could ride Elbst inta battle, n' petitioned the Maelstrom ta give us a raft similah ta the Whorleatah ta combat our foe. Oh we found it."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Focalor is a massive beast. Ye evah seen the ship that's been drowned in Silvahtear Lake?"

Nazyl Tharazyl: "it's about that size. A shark with horns n' magic tendrils, bladed fins n' endless teeth.....we even had Dragonkillahs readeh ta deal with it."

Nazyl Tharazyl closed his eyes and reminisced, "Weren't enough. It shrugged off the guns n' invited chaos ta the sea, a storm that destroyed our raft n' sent us ta the cornahs of the world. We all ended up meetin' in the Ruby Sea inj the end."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Though I want to, I don’t think I’d be of much help to you. I punch as hard as a soggy pup now, after spending so much time in jail. That, and the sea and I aren’t on good terms..” She leans her face against the palm of her hand, weight braced against her elbow and the table. “Gods, that big? Sahagin? Dragonkillers? WAIT, destroyed your raft? D-did you /swim/ back to shore or something?!”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "...Things happened, terrible things. Innocents were alreadeh gettin' caught up in the crossfire, n'..." He deflated some, then perked at Wyda's question, "....Kinda. I ended up doin' battle with the ebast alone, in the cold waters someplace east."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "All i remembuh was chokin' on the water, n' a bright flash....n' when i awoke, I was on the shores of an island I'd nevah seen."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "That's when things started goin' south..." He frowned, "I didn't wanna see death, especialleh of those that weren't related ta the hunt." He seemed to avoid disclosing the details on that particular incident, "I was chased by a powaful darkness, where I ended up escapin' ta Othard, where I met up with A'mariss...ah, she's me partnah of sorts. When we banished the darkness, we met back up with Yami too."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Sounds like you’re lucky to be alive! Seven hells.” She pushes an unopened bottle towards Nazyl, a concern tugging on her face. “Innocents...don’t beat yourself up too much about that. If you weren’t there, even more would’ve gotten involved. Can only do the best you can do, and sounds like you did an awful lot.”

Nazyl Tharazyl glanced to the empty bottles strewn across the table, rolling one with a finger, "We all gathahed where the Kojin live, n' figured out that Focalor had squatted there, corruptin' the waters n' the life within. We set out ta remove the source of it." He caught the bottle with his other hand, looking it over. He really shouldn't drink, but it looked so tempting.... "We did what we could. Sometimes I wish i could use magic." He sighed again, "The source was within an undahwater cave that-

Nazyl Tharazyl ||-housed the cultists worshippin' Focalor. They summoned a massive voidsent that looked much like a Kraken, n' we did battle with it n' its armeh, I think they named it Phorcys, if the mutterin's were anehthin' ta go by."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "It took a long while, but we ended up killin' the thing, n' removed the source of darkness from the Sea. Focalor has moved since then, n' now its location is unknown..."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "We've come back half broken n'...a lil' more than rattled in the head. I wish doin' this didn't cause so much damage..."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn listens with as much attention as she can muster, but it’s a tad hard with all the alcohol pumping through her system. “Phor...phorcys, and Focalor. Damn, if there’s one thing the world needs less of, it’s evil worshipping cults. You said you were chased by darkness? What’s that like?”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "A figure of incredible powah, that I could do nothin' against. I dunno where it came from, or why it sought me, but without the aid of othahs, I'd not be talkin' ta ye right now."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "I...I'm not sure what caused it ta chase me." That was a lie, "Strange things happen when ye deal with creatures that can bend realiteh."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn lets out a long sigh. “I’m glad you’re here Nazyl, but I can’t help but worry. You said that this demon, Focalor. It’s still out there? And it sounds like it’s done so much already, that...well. There are risks in the business after all...” Her voice gets quieter as she talks around the topic of death, and loss. She doesn’t know quite how to word that she’s scared he won’t come back a second time.

Nazyl Tharazyl gave a half smile, weak and frail, "I...know the risks. I assure ye I'm not ridin' on some false bravado that I'm some invicible warriah. It's indeed still out there, n' I'm currentleh researchin' its wherabouts...." He lowered his gaze to the table, "Death will always be loomin' behind me. The last hunt against a voidsent o' this caliber was similar, where each moment our lives held on by mere threads. It was a miracle we even came back from that alive."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "...N' yet, there will onleh be mroe tragedeh if we let it alone. Dangerous though the hunt may be, it's so that othahs won't have ta suffah. Even if it means some of us...don't make it back." he shook his head of that thought, "But, that's also why I'm a paladin, ta protect those who throw themselves with me lot. So that they can return ta quietah homes, with the thought that they achieved the impossible!"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn vacantly stares at the table, tired eyes cast downward. She wishes she can just tell him to...not hunt voidsent. But that’d be like telling him not to breathe. It was out of the question. “No one ever said being a hero was easy, right? Gods, it’s just that...I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn looks back up, determined to lighten up the mood. “So, was that your first time to the far east? Like it there?”

Nazyl Tharazyl gave a small laugh, "No hero is forged by ridin' it easeh. Though what we do is dangerous, it's necessareh. I don't plan on dyin' anehtime soon, so don't be lookin' like that alright?" He held a fist out, "Just wish us luck, n' we'll bag the biggest fish ye've evah damn seen." He blinked at the question, "Actualleh, no. I've been there befer once."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "...So, funneh storeh. A while back I had been browsin' a bookstore, lookin' fer somethin' fer a lass I had been sweet on at the time. Turns out the store was actualleh a front fer a group of sky pirates who had been accused o' holdin' a Garlean citizen of import within their ranks. Just me luck, I happened ta be there when the Maelstrom showed up."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn tries her best to put on a happy face. “I look forward to it! When that happens, we’ll be eating sashimi for days.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "I didn't get ta plead me case, they jsut lumped me in with the pirates. So we escaped by the skin of our teeth, n' took an airship across the world, with the Maelstrom hot on our trail. Our ship was fastah, thankfulleh, n' we ended up stoppin' in the Far East...we were forced ta live there while we had a diplomat deal with the Maelstrom n' clear our names. Fer a few moons, Othard was me new home."

Nazyl Tharazyl seemed to have fond memories, from the wistful look on his face, "I got ta see the swordsmanship of the east, the legendareh creatures of Yanxia, n' even got inta some Hingan intrigue."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Oh! I even befriended an auspice! Ye know, the talkin' animals...have ye seen one?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Sky pirates? A...a lass you were sweet on?!” Eyes open in surprise, and she shakes her head to clear her thoughts. “Ahem, okay. One step at a time, one step at a time...Anyway, that’s a pretty crazy story. Glad to know I'm not the only one the Maelstrom has wrongfully chased.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Auspice? You mean like...a moogle?”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Aha...does me likin' a lass realleh seem that s'prisin'? It ain't the first time someone has admitted such..." He shrugged, "Ah...not quite! Though mayhaps it's somewhat similah...I would reckon they'd think Moogles are a type of auspice."

Nazyl Tharazyl: "So, as Shiroitachi had told me...he's an auspice, a wee weasal...an auspice is born when an animal gains reasonin' aftah livin' fer ovah a hundred or so cycles! They become immortal n' can speak with us like regulah folk, it's rathah fantastical!"

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Some even possess magical powahs that can rival mastah mages...."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Wasn’t sure you had time for romance, between demon hunting and all.” She sends Nazyl a good natured, and clearly drunk, grin. “Some folk seem too busy to dabble in such things.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn sways a little as she considers what he’s telling her. Animals that live forever, and learn to talk. She repeats the idea in her head, and doesn’t understand it anymore the second time. “Talking weasel. Magic talking weasel? Okay, are you tugging my chain now..”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "...Mayhaps now I don't have the time, aye. It's...difficult ta keep a relationship while skirtin' with darkness evereh othah sun. Eventualleh I just accepted that mayhaps I'll be a bachelor fer a long while." He smirked, "A tall tale aye, but 'tis true. I even live with a talkin' catfish by the name o' Gyosho, sent by that vereh same auspice!" he beamed, "He's a Namazu, as he tells me. They like ta live around the big rivahs."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “No shame in being single! I, for one, enjoy being a lone ranger.” She shuts her eyes as she smiles, and there’s a long enough pause to wonder if...she’s fallen asleep. But then Wyda jolts back awake. “Talking catfish?! Okay, now I’m certain you’re making up tall tales. What next, walking and talking wolves? Hah.”

Nazyl Tharazyl leaned forward as Wyda dozed off temporarily, reaching to poke her until she jolted back up, causing him to recoil, "I assure ye, it's all true! In fact, me hosue ain't actualleh far--in the Mists is where I keep me office. Gyosho acts as me attendant, handlin' much of the papahwork. Should come by sometime!"

Nazyl Tharazyl: "...Ye holdin' up alright? Looks like ye might need ta find a bed soon..."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “You’re awfully confident, to keep this story up for so long...really starting to doubt myself...” She rubs at her temples, confused. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry. Just haven’t been sleeping well as of late.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn has noticeably dark bags under her eye, the other being covered by a bandana.

Nazyl Tharazyl: "If I hadn't seen these events with me own two eyes, I'd probableh have trouble keepin' it tagethah. Realiteh is oft more strange than aneh fantaseh book I've evah read." His eyes narrow somewhat, focusing on her eye for a moment, "...What's keepin' ye up? With this much drink I figured ye'd be down fer the count, but I s'pose ye hold yer drink well."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “I’ve learned that...There really aren’t any rules to reality, is there?” A hollow laugh escapes from the Seawolf. “I’m alright when it comes to drinking. But it’s hard to sleep when your evil twin is just a room away.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "....Evil twin?" He blinked. This is a new development.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “I wish I could tell you that this was just some terrible, dumb lie. But yeah...” There was a lot to unpack. At the moment, Wyda had decided to just...ignore the whole situation, which made it worse. “Looks like me. Has my voice. Has my memories. It’s weird, and I hate it.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Has yer -mem'rehs-? How in the seven hells...?" He stared, mouth agape. Twins was one thing, being practically the same person, mind and all... "Now that would just plain weird me out. I dunno how much I would like havin' anothah me out in the world..." He says, but might have an uncomfortable story on that very topic.

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Explains why ye were jailed I reckon. Is this the one that uh...." he tried to recall the events prior, "She's the one with the pirates?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn quickly downs another drink, but it does little to wash away her frustrations. “Right, she’s the reason I was tossed in jail. My old crew has gone rogue, and she was there, with them. Committing crimes and all.” Wyda narrows her eyes, a muddled doubt growing behind her eyes. “/She/ was there, and I wasn’t. I wasn’t there...”

Nazyl Tharazyl couldn't help but feel like the woman was trying to convince herself, rather than anyone listening. Whatever events had played out since he left appeared to have been rather strange, "So yer twin shacks up with some pirates...folks ye knew, n' causes trouble in yer name. I guess by capturin' the othah one ye've proven that ye've got yer own identiteh. But she also ain't in custodeh so..." He quirked a brow, "What's all happened?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “Muneshige brought her in, and I was cleared when other members brought in proof that my twin was still out there, doing evil, even with me in jail.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Moonay...who? Twelve we've realleh been gettin' a lotta new membahs huh...has heartwood been makin' a name fer itself?"

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Well, it's good that they saw reason at least. I guess what remains is what we'll do with yer twin...."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “He’s a funny guy. Really wants to fight all the time.” She smiles, grateful for the momentary change in subject. “And yeah, we’ve grown a bit since you’ve been gone.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "I s'pose questionin' is in ordah. Though I wouldn't know how receptive she'd be..."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “I’ve been talking with her. While she’s tight lipped when it comes to any future plans her crew may have, she’s open to talking about useless things.” Wyda fidgets with her hair, looking a little shaken. “Which doesn’t help me get a wink of sleep, really. Not when she’s so confident that I’m the imposter, instead of the other way around.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "I...aye, I dunno how I'd feel..." He looked down, scratching his head, "I'd definiteleh think somethin' fisheh is up. When ye both share the same past, somethin' ain't right. Eithah she ain't the real ye, or..." The other option was even weirder...but it was possible. He trailed off, not really wanting to go down that way.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn - The corner of Wyda’s mouth pulls into a small, defeated smirk. “...Or I’m not real.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "...Not what I was goin' fer, but I s'pose that's...also a possibiliteh." He froiwned, shaking his head, "What if yer both...parts of a whole?"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “I’m pretty sure I’m real though.” She nibbles on the bottom of her lip. “Is that even possible? Then again...everything we’ve been talking about sounds pretty out there.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Truth is oddah than fiction, I've realized. There's a few storehs I have that I'm not even sure -I- b'lieve, n' I was there when they happened!"

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “If anyone walked into the middle of this conversation, they’d definitely peg us as mad conspiracy theorists.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Ta think this is tame compared ta some o' the shite I've seen in the past cycle or two..."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “We deserve a vacation. A simple, calm vacation that's demon free, and hell. Magic free too.” She chuckles lightly.

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Ain't that the truth. A whole moon o' just...relaxin', worreh free? I might get used ta that life..." He smiled bitterly, "Which is why it's probableh good that I ain't gettin' that aneh time soon. Gotta stay sharp."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “It’s not a bad thing to go soft.” Wyda sighs longingly. “Why not be selfish for awhile? You totally deserve to treat yourself.”

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn - The pile of empty bottles by Wyda clearly shows the flip side of ‘treating oneself.’ She’s none the wiser though.

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn - The pile of empty bottles by Wyda clearly shows the flip side of ‘treating oneself.’ She’s none the wiser though.

Nazyl Tharazyl glanced at the bottles. he knew the reason for such vices...kept everyone sane. But his case was a little different. He shook his head, "I'm marrehd ta me duteh, 'cause if I ain't there when danger occurrs...who'll be there in me place?" He offered a sad smile, "Mayhaps there'll be a time when I can rest, but at the nonce, it ain't soon."

Aiswyda Nuthalwyn: “You’re very responsible...that’s a good thing. Just make sure you don’t crack under all that pressure, you hear?” She sighs, but can see where Nazyl’s coming from. Maybe she could learn a thing or two from him, someday. But that day won’t be today. Wyda gets up and stretches, intoxication catching up to her. “Alright...I’m off to take a nap. Nice catching up with you, Naz.”

Nazyl Tharazyl: "Likewise. It puts me heart at ease ta know yer safe now, so get some good sleep aye?"

Nazyl Tharazyl slipped out of the stool himself, adjusting his gear. It was so strange being out of armor...

[gegenji]

Big Dreams, Bigger Problems - Part 2

Unfortunately, Nazyl is more confused and upset by his wife Sasazi’s newfound stature - concerned it is the dark actions of a Voidsent! This drives Sasazi to tears, and also upsets the Gojirafell - who just wanted to make others happy! To resolve this problem, he reclaims the height into himself - returning Sasazi to her normal size for a happy ending for the married couple... even though it also leaves him that little bit harder to miss.

A photo shoot with @casualelitism​‘s Sasazi and her RP partner Nazyl!

Part One: there! Part Two: here!

[roses-and-grimoires]

We’re perfectly serious voidhunters! That look nothing at all like a boy band!

...Now what were we gonna call our next album again?

@khyranoisin, @glowinggunmetal, @bride-and-bride, @winterdeepelegy

[shadottie]

Nazyl Tharazyl -  ❇ Holy Spirit ❇

My final Illustration commission of 2017 that I finished on New Year's Day. I'm really proud of this one for all the detail, the valiant ferocity of the pose and --everything!! Thanks for letting me work on this, Naz!

[weatheredpileoftomes]

building homes

Make-up entry for FFxivWrite2021 Day 1, “foster”. Early A Realm Reborn postgame + early ARR alliance raid series, spoiler-free past that, ~1200 words.

There are a lot of things worth doing in Revenant’s Toll.

“I wasn’t expecting to find you here,” Cid says. Well, shouts—a working forge isn’t a quiet place.

That’s rich, coming from him. From what every Garlean commander had said about him in Castrum Meridianum and the Praetorium, Cid has less business hauling pieces of machinery around and getting covered in engine grease than Frydlona does making nails.

She lands the last strike to the head and tips the finished nail out of the header before she answers him. “We’re short.”

Cid tilts his head back to look at her. “You are.”

Frydlona politely ignores the joke. “We’ve been having issues with supplies going missing on the road through Coerthas, and I can certainly make nails.” Wisps of hair have escaped her braid and are sticking to her face; she swipes them away. It’s early summer in Mor Dhona, cold as it is just a few malms north.

“Can we borrow you? Rammbroes wanted to discuss our plans for getting into Syrcus Tower.”

Frydlona glances at Forgemaster Hildraed. He’s still hard at work himself—not on nails, which are the kind of thing you might give any wandering apprentice, but on hinges. “If the forgemaster can spare me,” she says cautiously. Winter isn’t that far away, in builder’s terms, and with all the Doman refugees they have a real need for more houses before the cold sets in.

Between strikes of his hammer, Hildraed grunts, “Don’t let me keep you, lass.”

She puts her tools away quickly, hangs up her apron, and rinses her face and arms under the pump outside. “Are we walking?”

“Chocobo, if you don’t mind.” Cid checks his pockets. “Hm—maybe we are walking.”

“Oh, I have coin,” Frydlona says.

“Send Jessie an invoice, will you?”

Frydlona will not send Jessie an invoice, firstly because she can easily afford the rental fee and secondly because this isn’t, as far as she can tell, Garlond Ironworks business at all. She’s involved because Cid is involved and thinks her ability to shoot an ancient warmachina until it stops working means she’s at all qualified to help with an archaeological dig. Cid is involved because…she’s not completely sure why Cid is involved, except that he does seem to like things that are strange.

If she were to send anyone an invoice, which she is not, it would be, oh, one of Rammbroes’s assistants—Syele, maybe? She could figure out for sure if Syele’s duties extend to that, if she needed to, but really. It’s rental fees for two chocobos for one afternoon.

The ride to Saint Coinach’s Find is short, and the day pleasant now that she’s out of the forge with the wind in her face. Still, when they arrive Nazyl Duzyl squints at her and asks, “Where did Master Cid find you, mining coal?”

“Please,” Rammbroes says.

Frydlona wishes she’d stopped to find a mirror, or at least put on a clean shirt—her vest is heavily streaked with soot, and now that she looks again she’d missed some on her upper arms too. Sleeves would have covered that. “The nearest coal’s in Thanalan,” she says. There might be some in Coerthas, somewhere, but if there is the Ishgardians haven’t deigned to let anyone else know about it. “I was making nails.”

“Nails?” G’raha Tia echoes, staring at her as if he’s never heard of the concept. They must not have had nails in Allag.

Actually, if Allagan architecture was anything like the Crystal Tower, they really didn’t have nails in Allag. From what Frydlona has seen of it so far, the most prosaic and workaday Allagan building would be a mason’s masterpiece today. The rest of it…she’s not sure even her good loupe would find a seam in the sheets of crystal.

“Nails,” she says. “We use them to hold pieces of wood together.”

G’raha Tia mutters, “I knew that.”

Rammbroes, looking curious against his will, asks, “But…why nails? Are they a particularly rewarding project?”

“Well, yes.” The wind off the lake is picking up, blowing Frydlona’s hair into her face. She can’t really look that much more disheveled at this point, but she’s not going to take her braid out and start redoing it in the middle of an argument about the value of plain work. She settles for trying to tuck the loose strands back into the braid, and fails. “Not the nails themselves—nobody likes making nails, that’s why Forgemaster Hildraed was so glad I offered to help—but that we’ll have nails now.”

“I see,” Rammbroes says.

“I don’t,” says Wandering Breeze, looking up from what looks like a survey map. “Why are they keeping you in there making nails when you have more important things to be doing?”

Frydlona doesn’t bother trying not to frown at him. “It is important. Any work worth doing is worth doing well, even if it’s the kind of job even apprentices groan about. I can be as proud of a nail as a sword—prouder of a nail, really.”

Cid nods with a rueful smile.

She returns it, and explains for Wandering Breeze and anyone else who doesn’t understand. “All you can do with a sword is kill things. It takes more craft to make well than a nail, but it’s not…everyone needs nails. When the S—when there wasn’t room in Ul’dah for the Doman refugees, they came here. I can help with that—it’s nails today, but it might be lumber next week, or any one of a dozen other things.”

“For houses?” G’raha Tia asks, still looking a little lost.

“I can help.” Frydlona gestures for emphasis and knows there’s no gesture that can make of them, except maybe Cid, understand. “I can—they lost their home, I can help them make a new one. Even if it’s hundreds of nails a day for a sennight, that’s still something. They need houses, workshops…an orphanage, until they find homes for some of the children who were separated from their families, or lost them. A school. Shops, maybe, not just workshops—Rowena has hired some of the Domans on, and so has Tataru on Minfilia’s behalf, but there’s no reason they shouldn’t sell their work across their own counters, if they want. Once they have houses they can have gardens if they want, make them homes either way. But all of that…”

“Takes nails,” Cid says, nodding. “It’s a pity I never learned to make them, or I’d offer to help.”

Jessie will hunt Frydlona down and mount her head on a wall if she offers to teach Cid the basics of peacetime smithing so he can, so she won’t. “If you could put the loggers in the way of an airship,” she says instead. “Talk to Slafborn—”

”Later, if you please,” says Rammbroes. “I have some concerns about Syrcus Tower…”

“Later,” Cid mouths in agreement, and Frydlona contents herself with that.

[windupnamazu]

listen my lover (to the beat of my love)

ffxivwrite2020 #02: sway || fills

⮞ wol/g'raha. 1511 words. ⮞ 7th astral era | crystal tower storyline | disclaimer: do NOT climb scaffolding supporting a structure milleniums old to dance with your love interest after youve both had alcohol | titled by @winduphaurchefant!! ⮞ a pyjama party, of sorts.

“to move slowly from side to side / to cause something to move or change”

Often when he found her dancing, it was to an old Thavnairian tune that stuttered every other note, her tiny orchestrion fumbling over the worn music roll she'd plucked from a merchant's dusty crate for just ten gil over a dozen suns ago. He could never make heads or tails of the lyrics, but he knew she had her mother's old lullabies passed from daughter to daughter to daughter—a legacy she told him she doesn't know how to bear or add to it herself—and the Echo: a blessing she never really wanted.

"We're really testing the limits of this scaffolding," he dared to pipe up when he climbed high enough to comfortably rest his upper half and elbows on the scaffolding, tail still casually swaying to and fro in the air as he balanced upon the rickety ladder. "Lunya, I'm afraid even I am not normally so bold as to climb this high after a round of drinks."

There came no answer, so caught up in her art as she was. She moved like she was born of the sea and the waves sing in her veins, graceful and fluid in every measure. To an outsider, perhaps, each step would look perfect: but he knew as well as she did that there was a slight sway to her movements, the sweetness of that night's wine seeped into her bones, staining a lovely flush warm against her cheeks.

"I only drank enough to feel buzzed, but Reese doesn't want me practicing down by the lake," Lunya finally said as the orchestrion murmured into silence, the words gusting out with the force of a storm as she exhaled, looking at him. Her eyes glowed beneath Mor Dhona's twilight, just as violet and thrice as clear, slivers of pink and azure facets gleaming through as she smiled in greeting, the very thin tendrils of the start of inebriation softening her expression even more. "I thought you were already asleep, Raha."

G'raha clambered up onto the platform, careful not to kick the ladder back—for all the tales she'd told him of «balefire»'s chaotic rampages across Eorzea, he was certain she wouldn't want to add "got trapped on some scaffolding with a colleague, both wearing pyjamas in the dead of night while most of the camp was drunk in their cups" to her collection—and looked her over now that she was standing still.

She seemed fine, outside of the fact that he knew she'd been drinking. Much like the robe he'd grown accustomed to seeing her in, ridiculous rabbit ears and all, the tunic she chose to sleep in was pure white. She was a vision of stardust, swathed in the light of the full moon above them, and he thought it was a shame he was born a Seeker of the Sun when each moment he got to spend with Lunya inclined him more to keeping the moon.

"Nazyl Duzyl started singing," he groaned instead of verbalizing such flowery thoughts. "Though I imagine it better to call it caterwauling. You still should not be up here, imp. One slip and you'd fall right off."

"You came up too, brat," she pointed out, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk as he pouted at her. "But if I have the honor of being fretted over by you I suppose I'll have to restrain myself next time."

Fretted over. He could have snorted, knowing he had basically flung himself from his bedroll when he awoke without his tentmate sleeping soundly nearby, tipsily flinging his shoes on without the leg guards so he could search for her. It would be wrong to say he was very good with spirits, but he knew that impulsive surge wasn't entirely from the drinks.

"Well, while I'm up here," he said as cheerily as he could, sweeping into a low, pretentious bow, "May I have a dance?"

Up went one snowy eyebrow. "Didn't you just point out that I could slip and fall off the scaffold? Would this not increase our odds of dying a horrible death?" Even so, she rewound the orchestrion roll and offered a hand to him, biting her lip with an uncharacteristic tinge of embarrassment as he took it.

G'raha placed his free hand over his heart. "It would be an honor to die with you, Lady Warrior," he promised her, ears wiggling mirthfully as she leveled a glare at him. "Though I know neither of us could find a grave so easily while we have so much to do."

Lunya mumbled something—doubtlessly not real words, since he would have heard what they were, but he was certain she was thinking stupid cat.

"This will be the least coordinated thing you'll ever see me do," she warned him as the music kicked in once more, luminous eyes flashing up to him. "You're twice my height and I can't even teach you the steps."

"I'm sure." He laughed as he took a step closer, emboldened—by what, the drinks? His affection for her? The fear that had been looming over him for some time now that he'd miss his chance? "Thank you for the opportunity, my dearest friend."

He didn't know the song and couldn't understand the lyrics, but as they swayed back and forth, hand in hand in a loose, unbalanced, sloppy rendition of one of her perfected moves, he felt he may be closer to her heart now than ever before. Lunya hummed along with the singer, the closest he'd ever heard to her singing, and they both laughed when he improvised a twirl into their faux dance routine. The way the moon cast light over Mor Dhona was beautiful, and she seemed right at home in their dance beneath the stars.

"Whoops!"

Lunya heard his grin before she found it as she fell backwards. When she looked up, G'raha's face was close to her own, beaming mischievously right at her while he was knelt down and holding her in a ridiculous-looking dip, his tail bracing the back of her knees.

"Very bold. That was not an accident, Raha," she scolded only half-heartedly, reaching up to pinch the cheeky smile off his face but only fueling the fire. He wondered if the excited pound of his heartbeat in his throat echoed in her own. "Would you mind letting me stand?"

"I do mind, in fact." He hid his grin in her hair as he stood, cradling her in his arms and shaking with laughter as Lunya thumped her small fist against his chest once, twice, before she sulkily gave up, slumping against his shoulder with a tiny noise of discontent. "As enchanting as this night has been, it's far past the Warrior of Light's bedtime. Luckily for you, I happen to have one ticket for a G'raha Tia cart back to her tent."

"Shuddup, cat," she mumbled, waving a hand in the direction of her orchestrion. He scooped it up for her, placing it carefully on her lap so she could turn it off and keep it close before he began their precarious descent back down the ladders.

The camp was still quiet, the remnants of their drinking party still evident in the abandoned assortment of cups around the Find. A few of the Sons were scattered in sight, most of them snoring away on any solid surface they could find, and others still nursing a drink to the side, singing quietly to themselves.

A lone Miqo'te kept vigil at the fire and his ears perked up as G'raha approached. Tehra'ir raised an eyebrow at the sight of them, clearly wanting to ask about Lunya's presence in his arms, but all he did was nod to him: a silent acknowledgement that G'raha hadn't died trying to retrieve their wayward Lalafell and neither of them were in immediate need of medical assistance.

Waving him goodnight, G'raha turned to follow the path back to his and Lunya's shared tent. She was already half asleep when he pulled open the flap, though she blinked blearily at him setting her down on her bedroll, wiggling both her orchestrion out of her hands and her boots off her feet.

"Sweet dreams, Lu, and thank you for the dance," he told her fondly, turning to his bed. A small tug at the back of his shirt had him looking back to her as she sat up on her knees, rubbing at her eyes.

"Raha," he heard Lunya say sleepily before she leaned forward and pressed a warm kiss to the corner of his lips, sending a shocked spark soaring through him, a frazzled flutter that left him wide-eyed and wanting. The saccharine scent of wine flooded his nose as she pulled away, sinking back down into her blankets, sleep coming back to abduct her before he could even properly respond. "G'night."

"...Goodnight," he whispered, knowing she wouldn't hear him. Laughing to himself and his face impossibly warm, far more heated than the sweet wine had made him feel, G'raha Tia removed his shoes and crawled back into his own bed, heart askew.

[rhotanored]

FFXIV WRITE #7 n o n a g e n a r i a n

prompt#7 - N O N A G E N A R I A N character(s) - A’mariss Renahg, Nazyl Tharazyl (mention), N’yami Synch (mention) @pocketninja-ffxiv​ masterlist - [x] warnings - N/A

    When A’mariss considered her still-healing injuries, and the awkward position in which she’d fallen asleep, she wasn’t surprised when she awoke in pain; she just hadn’t been expecting such a stiff, bone-deep ache permeating through what seemed like her entire form. Her hand trembled as she lifted it, though it did not have the familiar tremble brought on by exhaustion that she could flex from her fingers with enough concentration, but an uncontrollable shake that continued no matter how much she willed it otherwise.

    Her fingers, even, would not curl completely closed, and it was with mounting alarm she realised her vision was dark, narrowed as though she was peering down a tunnel through a thick, filmy haze. Try as she might, blinking did nothing to dispel her atrophying vision, and bringing her hands closer only served to redouble the panic causing her heart to flutter. They were unrecognizable; gnarled veins wound beneath skin darkened with splotches of age, wrinkled skin twisting over knuckles swollen with advanced arthritis. 

    Sounds, too, were muted; she could hear the thunder of blood in her ears--but that was the only thing that came to her with any clarity. As far as she could tell, her surroundings hadn’t changed; still beneath the sea in the kojin’s submerged bubble--but the sound of water was warped and distorted, and voices reached her only as though spoken from a distance.

    Even her own voice sounded foreign to her ears, a low moan of protest that never quite formed into a cohesive thought. Awkwardly, she attempted to shuffle to her feet, but her legs, bone-thin, her skin pulled dry and taut like parchment across them, would not obey. Wildly, her head trembled and lolled in the direction of the comrades she’d accompanied, but even with her limited vision they seemed unchanged; slumbering away nearby.

    She groaned again, what little ground she had gained in pulling herself further upright abruptly slipping out from under her as the loose, pebble-ridden sand beneath her provided little purchase for her trembling hands, and her head fell back with a heavy thud against the shipping crates against which she’d propped herself before retiring to slumber. Black sparks danced in her vision, and she let her eyes fall shut, chest still heaving--until she bolted suddenly upright, the world snapping back into painful clarity.

    Though the back of her head throbbed where she’d struck it on the crates, the wearying arch that had suffused her being faded as though from a dream. All that remained was the hint of exhaustion still weighing her limbs; typical of aetherial overdraught, and the sharper, more urgent heat still radiating with every pulse of blood through the gash on her leg, tightly bound and treated. She could tell it was further along in healing than it had been when she’d slept; between her regenerative magics and the natural aether of this place, it was healing far faster than it had any right to.

    Her heartbeat steadied the longer she focused on her surroundings; Nazyl and N’yami still slumbered nearby, oblivious to the nightmare that had seized her, and for that she was grateful. Carefully, A’mariss righted herself, no longer slouching against the boxes, and drew her knees to her chest, allowing her brow to rest against them.

    Not a vision from Focalor, or any other horror--only her own Echo providing her a glimpse into a future that she’d prefer never come to pass. She’d continue to fight to live as she was, but to live to infirmity--she knew in her heart of hearts she’d rather die on the field of battle than become such a burden. As much as she attempted to avoid sleep, considering what it had given her this time, she could feel it nipping at the edges of her awareness--and with the trials and tribulations of bringing the battle to Focalor still looming ahead, she allowed herself to succumb (hopefully) to oblivion once again.

[keioseth]

A couple of doodles done while watching the Grindstone this week.

A Nazyl without his face markings cause I didn’t have a reference at the time and Alex holding a tiny, angry Soko.

[mokkri-valandiel]

Can’t Take You Anywhere

Nazyl Tharazyl can feel lungs taking in air that shouldn't be there. It rises and falls.

G'mokkri Rha watches intensely. "Ok, let me try!"

"I don't like that." Morgan says.

Nazyl Tharazyl turns his head to Morgan, flashing a thumbs up.

G'mokkri Rha cautiously tiptoes into deeper water.

Morgan Olivey snorts, and pushes down on Naz. He didn't keep the man down, just a spook push. He settles a hand on his hip.

G'mokkri Rha sticks her face into the water and tries to breathe.

"Eorzeans, I swear." Morgan mutters.

"Ggghhbbbblppbbll...." Nazyl Tharazyl rises, it was difficult to talk with water in your mouth, "Whoops."

G'mokkri Rha just keeps hanging out in the water, slipping slowly out with the current. She's focusing reallllllly hard.

"...Miss I can explain why i can-" Naz begins, “.....Don't let the ocean take her."

"Gods. Be good." Morgan drifts out that way, taking Mokkri's wrist.

G'mokkri ....appears to have grown gills.

"......What in the hells...?" Naz exclaims.

"Ah-hhah." Morgan -would- snatch his hand back at the alarm but doesn't.

G'mokkri Rha opens her eyes excitedly under the water! She does, however, clutch at Morgan as the current threatens to drag her further out.

((with @rhotanored @lominsadan @wamoura and naz. Near @silentlyjudgemental for good measure))

A'mariss Renahg takes another sip of her drink. She's listening to all parties.

Nazyl Tharazyl huffs. That's fine then, "...Carreh on."

"O-Oi, alright, easy!" Morgan snatches up with the other hand. He bobs, kicking a heel at the bottom and back to shore. He doesn't -bring- Mokkri to shore.

"I hope those work on land." Naz questions.

G'mokkri clutches at Naz instead.

"...Maybe they go away?" Morgan spitballs.

Nazyl Tharazyl doesn't like being grabbed, eyes darting around, "Wh-"

G'mokkri Rha burbles and thrashed under the water, looking panicked.

"Hey, calm down, I ain't that-" And Naz’s going under too.

Professor Gray is explaining the Lominsan Dan novels at length. "...SO then. Ferun Terun. Where. Lominsa Dan comes across the journal of Nymian privateer Ferun Terun, who claims he had found something known as the Arx Akropolis, an allagan citadel that floats hidden near meracydia. Terun claims he reclaimed vast treasures from the place, but that he regretted them so deeply he would take them to his grave--which has, for all of history, been unknown. Following a trail of breadcrumbs, he retravels the famous privateers steps all over the world, ruin to ruin."

"Ah, perhaps--" A'mariss Renahg points towards the trio, and the ...flailing Mokkri.

Morgan Olivey: "Gods be good," Morgan hooks an arm around Mokkri's waist. He's going under too. He pinches his eyes shut, feeling for the bottom with his foot.

Professor Gray DOVE RIGHT IN.

Morgan Olivey starts puuulling, but hey if someone else is here to rescue? Great. He's OUTTA THERE.

Professor Gray YEAH LIKE-- ....He abruptly stopped panicking. as he stood on the bottom on ocean, weighted by his mechanical arm...just staring. “...”

Silaena Naellenar hums. "Well. What's the problem, exactly?"

Morgan Olivey keeps pulling to shallow waters then, gilled girl and lalafell in tow, apparently!

Professor Gray 's created an absolute monster.

A'mariss Renahg sips her drink, observing, though a moment ago she'd looked ready to hand Silae her drink. "I'm--not sure."

Nazyl Tharazyl pulls on the woman, though how much force can his small legs produce? He hopes someone else can help.

"...She's--fine." Asserts Gray.

Nazyl Tharazyl rises from the water, exhaling from his nose, "Well alright. That was unexpected."

Morgan Olivey immediately swipes his hair down flat when they break the surface. He pulls away from Mokkri. "...You alright there, G'mokkri?"

"Is she-- are you--? All?" A’mariss redirects as the rest of them surface.

G'mokkri Rha is panting, hands on her knees with her hair plastered to her face. "I didn't know the water could grab you like that!"

"They do, and those would be called currents." Morgan educates her.

"...Lominsa Dan an' The Nymian Shade. ...Which is about someone tryn' to spread a plague very similar to th'Green Death. An' us, uh. Stoppin' it," Gray said flatly, finishing his thought even as he stared. Dumbfounded.

A'mariss Renahg 's face shifts to one of some concern. "Ah. Fortunate you had others here, then."

"...She's fine." Gray insists.

G'mokkri Rha scratches at her neck absently and one of the gills falls into her hand with a splat, leaving her neck untouched.

A'mariss Renahg raises a brow, slowly, then glances aside at Silae.

Professor Gray leans over and starts checking her *obsessively* like what the fuck-- EW EW EW he grabbed her wrist and turned the hand upward. staring at it.

"-Are- ..you .. fine, G'mokkri." Morgan asks.

Gray comments, "....Ominous."

G'mokkri Rha 's eyes widen at her hand holding the gill and her eyes roll back in her head and she faints dead away.

Professor Gray ...Lifted her up and cradled her in his arms. don't die in the water NOW, kid.

[heartwoodventures]

Primary Access Required: Better Run, Faster Than My Spiders

Once everyone had gathered around Crific to teleport back home that soft 'Oh no' hit the Seeker's ears and that's when the realization hit her, Nazyl couldn't teleport with them, and refusing to leave anyone by themselves G'lewra launched herself out of the group to grab a hold of the lalafell. The whooshing sound behind her made it clear that the others got away, besides one other, one of the spiders had latched itself once again to Livia and had interrupted the cast for her. With a quick wave of her hand a small ball of aether blasted from her palm and launched the blasted thing off the Hyur, and with quick work did the medic grab Livia as well then booked it with both of them. Launching both of them in front of her the Seeker dug around in her bag and pulled out a few empty shards to fill them with her own aether and launched them at the flood behind them, the spiders would pause to absorb their treat which gave the three time to gain some distance. "Don't look back just keep running!"

Livia had measures of her own. The telltale magical facets of a large scale barrier spell set in place as a wall. It wouldn't hold the whole of the swarm back, and even then it wouldn't hold those it did block off for long, but it was a measure enough. Panicked as she was by her fear of spiders, the conjurer had absolutely no reservations about running. FAST.

Nazyl barely had time to tell Crific that maybe teleporting him would probably be the last time any of them would see him, considering the ramifications of such a spell on his body and spirit...thankfully he was pulled away, forced to move away from the encroaching horde lest the others be overwhelmed. he did not fear the spiders--nay, they had no reason to pursue him. The others, however....he made a mad dash through the snow, using his shield to swipe away whatever blocked him.

The snow crunched under their feet as they booked it through the cold Coerthas lands and all they would hear behind them was the echoing of 'Locked on Target' and the metal limbs rushing through the snow. They smacked into Livia's barrier and the smaller ones would launch themselves at it to try to break it down, the bigger ones struck the barrier with their limbs, and with each hit did it become weaker. "We need to get somewhere safe."

"Safe? What if they decide ta go huntin' beyond those grounds? What happens ta the ishgardians here?" Nazyl Tharazyl panted, stopping near the river, "Well they can't just be allowed ta stay here..."

"To die senselessly here would do little to aid said Ishgardians. We can do little as is to contest the numbers of those monstrous things, as is!" Livia was just as out of breath. "We're in agreement. We've got to at least try to lead them astray before we throw them from our trail."

G'lewra stopped along with the lalafell and started to dig through her bag again, there had to be something in here that could help them. "Come on...." All the Seeker had though were healing potions and ointments, she didn't carry bombs on her as her daughter did. "I wonder..." Looking behind her Lewra watched the flood continue trying to break down the barrier, they were losing time. "We need to find a spot to hide in, I can form a barrier around us to hide us but I can only hold it for so long."

Nazyl began to look around the area...he was pretty familiar with Coerthan terrain, and oft marked areas where he could stave off the cold…

Livia scanned the area for a moment. "A... cliffside with soft sediment in a large enough spot may do. I could part the earth to allow us a crevice, though it would ultimately box us in."

"I don't know this area at all, I avoid cold places at all cost and now I have another reason to do so." Lewra looked between the two. "If either of you two know the area better lead the way, Livia I'll have you part the earth if needed to make us a hiding spot."

Livia Arkwright nodded. "I... am unfamiliar with the specifics of the wilds here, I fear."

Nazyl stared across the river some, then glanced to his left. Things began to look familiar, "...There's a cave system ta our left, up the stream. It goes deep n' the openin' is small, we'll be safe from largah threats."

"Quickly lead us there, apologies for sounding demanding but we must be quick." Even in a time like this the Seeker apologized as she was never the type to demand something of someone. "I'm going to start preparing." Pulling the Codex from her hip G'lewra flicked to a page with complex arcane circles on it. It looked like complete nonsense to the other two but to the Scholar it was the spell that would keep them safe in this desperate time.

Nazyl cared not for apologies or whatever spell Lewra was preparing...though wouldn't it be more practical to use as little as possible to avoid drawing attention? Well, he'd fight in a chokepoint if he had to. He began running upstream, towards a small opening in the rock face...

Livia dragged her cane's base over the ground briefly as they ran. Ambient aether from the very land rose up into the rod of the focus, suffusing it in a flickering and occasional hue of deep earthen gold. She was canting as she ran. “Ready?”

Nazyl skidded to a halt as they made it into the cavern, "Alright, whatevah ye got planned, now's the time ta do it."

G'lewra ran after Nazyl and she thanked that she was fit enough to run through the Coerthas terrain, sliding to her knees behind Nazyl she placed her book in front of her and grabbed a few crystals, and threw them in place. Making a circle around them the Seeker placed her hands over the book and the tattoos on her arms and back started to glow under her coat. The book and crystals started to float around the three and that's when the barrier started to form. The usually green barrier had become blue and it finished forming around the three, the Seeker's eyes glowed a faint green and she stayed still like a statue. She wouldn't be able to move while holding this spell so if any of the flood came at them it would be left to the other two to fight them off. But something was off, they would see the flood run right past them and those that came into the cave to investigate would either walk around them or walk right on top of the barrier.

The Lalafell braced himself for a fight, and even advanced as they came for the barrier, raising his shield to stop them...their movements gave him pause, watchign them skitter over and around them as if finding something else of value, "Eh? What's this..."

Livia moved to make things more difficult for those that did investigate, it seemed. The gathered aether she'd supped up from the path was released into the cavern walls. Her call was met with the emergence of stone teeth, which locked together to form a jagged, makeshift wall of some sturdiness from the sparse material she was willing or able to manipulate. Bit by bit, these earthen spikes covered with drawn-out permafrost, and even the barrier's face got a thin layer of ice on it by the time she was done with her own spellcast."W-.. why did they stop?"

The flood crawled along the walls as their eyes whirred with noise to try and detect the three but all that was heard were a  few beeps then 'Target Missing'. It was a terrifying sight just to see the spider-like creatures to crawl over the barrier as they looked for them. G'lewra had remained still the whole time and one would have to look closely just to be able to see if she was breathing.

She remained petrified. Arachnaphobia is no joke, be the spiders robotic or organic. Livia stood as still as she could, not wanting to risk further alerting the drones by sound or motion.

Nazyl held his position, sword pointed forward...if they fell into it, they'd at least be impaled. Somehow, the spiders being machines made it so much less frightening than had they been real, breathing vilekin. The way machines functioned were predictable, though their behavior now was puzzling...he glanced back at Lewra....was she hiding their presence?

The spiders clicked around the cave and turned in circles, for a moment they looked like lost puppies looking for their owner. 'Target Undected' One beeped out, and then that's when each one made a *ping* noise as if they just got notified for something. 'Return to Homepoint'. They started to skitter around the cave as the smaller ones climbed onto the bigger ones to be carried back to their base of operation, Nazyl and Livia would see them climbing over the cliffs to head back.

Livia Arkwright staggered, winded and worn by all the running and aetheric expenditure. "Matron's bosom, they're actually withdrawing. Tis a miracle."

Nazyl Tharazyl relaxed some, watching the last of them retreat back to the mountains...he'd make note of that location, mayhaps he should investigate, "Hm. Ye hide us Miss Lewra?"

The crystals around the three dropped to the ground to show they were depleted of any energy they held, the Codex fell into G'lewra's lap with a thud and the Seeker just sat there for a moment to gain back her energy, she just offered a soft nod while clipping the codex back to her hip. "It was the only way....I'll need to rest a moment as that took a lot out of me." The Seeker reached up to her linkpearl and gave it a couple of clicks, hoping a certain Viera would pick up on it.

Livia Arkwright placed a hand gently upon the Seeker's shoulder. The faint, pink glow of her aether began to hum in her palm as she channeled what little remaining excess she had into her, just to help her remain stable.

"Here's a good place...if we need food fer the moment I can go huntin' outside, it'll help replenish what ye lost."

G'lewra gave a small shake of her head. "I appreciate the offer, Nazyl, but I would rather keep you around just in case they come back. Even though they can't detect you we would be left defenseless especially in my state right now." She offered the lalafell a tired smile. "I have a few things in my bag that will hold us over until we either start traveling or the others come looking for us."

Livia slumped into her place, laying her cane at her side. "Gods' breath, but that was harrowing. I do have a few vials of formula that could keep us going, as well. I hope neither of you take offense to the heavy taste of apple."

Nazyl Tharazyl shrugged, taking out a waterskin and sipping from it. Frosty, "We shouldn't tarreh ovahlong here. Lest we get spotted again, we should probableh start makin' our way back ta the Shroud as soon as possible."

G'lewra offered a small nod. "To the Shroud then." Shakily pushing herself to her feet the Seeker held a hand out to Livia to take. "Let's keep going then, we may rest when we're back home. I also don't mind the taste of apple."

Livia Arkwright offered up a fair-sized vial to Lewra and Nazyl both. The liquid within the glass looked the color of caramel and had the consistency of juice. Little flecks of iridescent... something floated within it. "I ah-- left a few gaps to allow us a route out. My apologies for making the two of you climb, in advance."

"Don't push yerselves, we got a long walk back ta warmah climes...if ye ened ta take a break ta get yer bearin's, by all means, we can set up camp here...but I'd rathah be away from here quickleh." Nazyl Tharazyl took the curious vial, arching a brow, "...What is this?"

"A mix of apple juice, and a few nutrients run through an alchemical process. Tis good for energy, and rich for the body. The aftertaste, however, is fairly bitter in spite of the apple overtone."

Taking the offered vial G’lewra offered the snowy haired hyur a smile. "Thank you, now, let's get out of this place before my tail freezes off. I'm not rather fond of this place and the Shroud sounds a lot nicer."

Nazyl Tharazyl stared at the vial...and pocketed it for later. He didn't need it at this moment, "Thank ye, I bet it'll come in handeh when I find meself stretched thin again."

With that the three started their trek back to the Shroud to get away from the nightmare that was causing chaos over Coerthas, the question was, would they meet up with their fellow members or run into more of these creatures? 

[lettersnorth]

Into the Tempest: Before the Raid

The way Wyda had nearly fallen asleep at the table during the meeting with Dellont hadn't escaped Aislinn's notice. As she dealt with the fall out from that meeting, in the back of her mind was the niggling reminder she needed to go check on her friend. Everyone was preparing for the raid on Red Argos but Aislinn was more concerned about where Wyda's head was at. This whole business had taken it's toll on the Seawolf, she knew that. Poking her head in the roegadyn's chamber had her coming up empty so she wandered around the House, knowing the woman had taken to sleeping in odd places.

"Of course." she murmured to herself as she came upon Wyda fast asleep on the floor before one of the fireplaces. She gingerly stepped around the Seawolf and sat down on the rug, studying the woman with a look of consternation. There was a brief pause before she reached out and, after a bracing inhale of breath, set her hand on Wyda's shoulder, shaking it gently. "Wyda." she said, quiet, like always.

Aiswyda was hot to the touch, a possible result of being toasted by the fireplace for the entirety of her slumber. After a few shakes, she mumbled a bit, blinking through bleary eyes. “Hrrgh...Lin? What is it?”

She felt a deep sense of deja vu. The last time this had happened was in the Lominsan gaols. While her friend was always a welcome sight, she cursed internally at being caught in the open like this. Guess she didn’t make it to her room this time...

The corner of Aislinn's lips tugged down in a frown as she pulled her hand away. Wyda was feverishly hot. She glanced over at the fire, hesitantly deciding that might explain it. Or perhaps she just wished that to be the case. In any event, she sat back. "Not sleeping well? Kinda noticed the same thing in that meeting with Dellont." she said simply, leaving room for Wyda to make of her question what she will.

Aiswyda‘s mind raced with potential excuses, but the stern look on Lin’s face convinced her otherwise. An excuse would be a lie, and it wouldn’t be right to fool her friend...Wyda chuckled lightly. Not that she had a chance of sliding something by Lin anyway.

“Yeah. I haven’t felt rested in a long while.” She shrugged to herself and leaned back slightly. “...Dellont. What became of that guy, anyway? ‘Fraid I haven’t kept up with recent news.”

The woman let go a breath as she leveled a 'look' at Wyda. Pointed but forebearing only in a way a good friend can manage. She knew by now when Wyda was trying to divert her or change the subject. But for now, she followed along. It was important news, after all."As I understand it he and Vanriri were ambushed on the way home." she said, glancing away. "The Wailers found him. He'd been knocked around a bit. He kept saying something had taken Vanriri. Not hard to imagine just what that something was." there's an edge to her voice as she finished.

Aiswyda shifts back forward and hugs her knees tight against her chest. The news alarmed her. Taken? But...by who? Maybe more robots?! And why now? She stared back up at Lin and hesitated. The other woman was likely just as concerned about the situation, and Wyda didn’t want her to worry any more than she was already.

“...Well, we’ll get them all back. Just like when we got ol’ Nazyl back, eh?”

The question made Aislinn realize she had grown tense, staring at the fire, her hand having curled itself into a fist. Slowly, she took measure, loosening her hand, her shoulders. Though she still wasn't quite able to translate that tension into words. Instead, she refocused on Wyda. "Have you tried any sleeping draughts?" she asked. "Last thing you want is to go stumbling into this raid half asleep."

Aiswyda finds the topic (uncomfortably) back on her sleeping woes. Without thinking, idle hands begin to toy with the fringes of a nearby throw pillow. She looks away, gaze settling comfortably on the crackling fire.

“I...I have! Falling asleep isn’t the issue...Don’t worry Lin. This’ll be sorted out before then. I know it.” Her words fail to convince even herself, and she can’t bring herself to look Lin in the eye afterwards.

The noise of disagreement made its way out of Aislinn's throat before Wyda had even finished speaking. "If it's not the falling asleep part of it, then what is it?" she hesitated to be her blunt self but before she could stop herself she went on plowing ahead. "Because you honestly haven't looked rested ever since you came back from the gaol. Why would it suddenly sort itself --" she stopped. That last part even she could see would not be helpful. What point could there be in pointing out the obvious right before they shipped out on this job?

Aiswyda flinched. Lin was right - but knowing that didn’t stop her from falling into old habits. She wanted to run - leave this situation behind! Focus on other things - anything - and hope for a miracle, because she couldn’t bear to deal with her shame. What’s one more problem swept under the rug?

“I....I don’t....” She stammered, mouth suddenly dry. Instinctively, she glanced behind her and noted where her exits lay. Words tumbled out without second thought.  “Lin. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine! I’ve always been. And...Wh...We have to just. Just keep going. It’ll work out.”

Aislinn clamped her jaw tight against whatever she might say next. Wyda had that look about her. Like a cornered cat about to make a mad dash. And she hadn't come up here to chase the Seawolf away. She blew out a long breath and shook her head. "Sorry. I just...we're losing people left and right lately. And honestly, I just want you to come out of this Red Argos business in one piece. That's all." she says lowly.

Aiswyda continued staring past the fireplace, frozen. But she listened. And eventually, she shook her head no. “No...you’re just being a good friend, is all. And with so many missing at the moment, the cost of being in this profession are all too apparent.” She takes a deep breath and tries to center herself. “...To be honest, I’m scared too." she paused. "But when the day comes...Whether I’m able or not, I have to be there. To see things through. To protect my friends, old and new.” She pulls her gaze from the fire and looks directly at Lin.

Aislinn dropped her head and nodded. It was the answer she was expecting. "Well, you've never really been one to sit back. And I...hope we'll manage it. Protecting everyone. Your old crew and new." An unvoiced question sat squarely in the middle of Aislinn's chest. What if Wyda had to choose? It was one she hoped Nymeia would never lay at the Seawolf's feet. "And I supposed it'd be foolish not to be scared."

Aiswyda did her best to give Lin an uplifting smile. “It’s okay to be afraid. It means we got something worth livin’ for.” She let out a long sigh. “....what I wouldn’t give to have this all over with though. Relax in a cold creek and just watch the blue sky, an’ all that.”

It was just like Wyda to paint a picture and pull them both out of their current troubles. Aislinn's lips twitched slightly at the thought. Her smile was odd thing where the corners of her mouth barely lifted, her eyes sparked and the smile sat there in their depths. "Let's make that first thing on the list of things to do when we get back."

“You know I’ve got a never-ending list of such items! In fact, they’re scattered in notes all over my room’s floor. Stuff like eating a pineapple. Or skipping stones.” Aiswyda grins, though her heart can’t quite shake off the blues this time.

Aiswyda sinks under the weight of the coming days. This could be the last time she sees Lin. Hell, any day could be their last but right now....in this moment, she strongly feels the need to reaffirm what she assumes is common knowledge between the two of them. “You’re a great friend. You know that, right? So don’t go doing anything stupid without me!”

Aislinn nodded along with Wyda's list and even added to it. "Indoor picnic. Trip to Camp Bronze Lake. We should go back to the Golden Saucer and see if those tight-wearing Highlanders are still practicing." a huff of laughter escaped before she can stop it. But the lightness disappears like so many soap bubbles in the wake of Wyda's declaration. Something inside tightened a fist around her heart at the words. Because she saw them for what they were. Parting words. Despite wanting to shy away from acknowledging their meaning, she took a moment to summon a response. "And you're without a doubt one of the best people I've ever known. But that sentiment goes both ways. If I'm not allowed to do anything stupid, neither are you."

The farthest thing from Wyda’s mind had been those frolicking highlanders. And to have her mind be brought there, of all places. Of all times! She starts to laugh uncontrollably as she thinks about their earnest dance routine.

Lit by firelight, the two recounted previous escapades and mused about the future long into the night. It was one certain to be full of laughter and love. Because in this moment, despite what they knew to be true, they created a shared belief that the future couldn't possibly be anything less than certain.

[blooms-of-ice]

It was late, but after the job, Wyda didn’t head home right away. Instead, she excused herself from the group and slipped into a lonely corner of the Black Shroud. In this quiet darkness, she couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or not. It was somewhere that she could face the events of tonight with raw honesty.

The first truth was that Nazyl was gone.

G’lewra claimed that the lalafell was still out there. She had to take her word for it, as there was nothing she could do. Wyda locked her fingers together, refocused her mind on the sensation of touch, and explored the rough ridges on her hands. Her scars were canyons of undiscovered territory that traveled all the way up to her forearms.

The second truth was that she was a stranger in her own body.

Wyda let out a sharp breath as she thought back to the feelings she felt when Nazyl disappeared. Most of what she felt was reasonable in the situation - fear, anger, despair. But underlying those emotions, an unexpected sense of deja vu hovered over it all. Much like the scars on her hands, Wyda didn’t know where the feeling came from. It felt foreign to her. As if these were someone else’s scars. As if this was someone else’s reaction.

Was she disassociating? Maybe everything was due to being in a traumatic event just moments earlier. But things weren’t that simple. 

The third truth was that this had been a problem since the beginning.

The sleepwalking, the scars, and now the foreign emotions. The mysteries were starting to pile up. Though Wyda did her best to ignore it, she sensed that she was close to...a threshold of sorts. Bottled concerns were the perfect tinder for a wildfire. 

[cfs-melkire]

Commend

"Well done."

This to Dani and Cori, my sisters, when they managed their first trip to Hawker's together for groceries at the tender age of eleven.

"Well done."

This to Flame Privates Gregson and Lancaster, when they and they alone out of the new recruits managed to clear the examination that I'd set for them: Gregson with his wits and Lancaster with brute force. 

"Well done."

This to Flora and Martin - up and coming monks - when they managed to apply lessons, from their assigned reading and the demonstrations they'd been given, in practice and out in the field.

"Well done."

There are hundreds if not thousands more. Names upon names, scores of people, and I cannot remember them all. They are Kahn'a, Roen, Kage, Delial, and Askier; they are Kiht, Coatleque, Warren, and Nero; they are Tarot, Eiri, Aiouxdaux, Sterrbhar, and Beexu; they are Mikh'a, Siha, Aigiarn, and Nazyl; they are Aya, Zanzan, Tiergan, and S'imba; they are Autgar, Catelyn, Caelrin, Suhee, A'ken, and Gregos; they are Kanaria, Isabella, and Amelia.

There are so many, and they mean so much. They have done so much. I am not effusive with praise, but I am not sparse, either.

A commendation might not seem much, but a commendation goes far.