#note: Gansetseg can’t read Eorzean script

[observeroflaplace]

D5 - Barbarous

“Look at her. That gaudy fur coat! Armour in broad daylight, and not even polished.”

“As though a Dravanian would ever live up to a Knight’s standards-“

“Not so loud! …Besides, she’s one of those Owruh, right? Surely she isn’t someone who did that?”

“I just want my peace. We were promised that much if we tolerated these backwards-thinking heretics-“

A short and muscular Xaela wandered the streets of Ishgard. The cold did her hardly any favours - thus in addition to black lacquered plates of armour accented with golden snurble wool, she wore a longer coat from yet more wool of her beloved fluffy charges.

Still, she shivered. At the very least, the prying eyes and scoffing voices meant little to her.

Sneer all you want, you uncultured buffoons, she thought, proudly.

She chuckles to herself, largely ignorant of the content of the jeering, until she spies an exhausted-looking soul carrying a backpack as large as she herself was.

The newcomer was a Moon Keeper with similarly bronze skin to herself, but stark white hair. She looked to be some kind of merchant, having just departed from airship to peddle her wares. And as one might expect of someone so burdened, she looked like she might collapse at any tick.

…until, of course, she indeed begins to.

Gansetseg rushes to the Keeper’s side, helping gently set down the Miqo’te’s considerable belongings, before the latter finds herself crushed underneath them. Before she can question how the Miqo’te got as far as getting off the gangplank of the airship with too much to carry, the reason becomes quickly apparent, by a loud growling sound from the Miqo’te’s stomach.

“Guhhh…. Need… Tummyfill…”

The strange dialect simply spurs the judgemental onlookers further.

“Oh great, the Goblin-child.”

“When will she learn she isn’t one of them?”

“If she’s such a great merchant, then she should get herself to the Crozier or the Firmament already.”

How uncivilised, Gansetseg thought. They live in such affluent homes yet lack the grain or meat to feed a collapsed stranger? Or perhaps, since they lack the knowledge to move with the seasons, they’re barbarians who cannot even lift themselves beyond their own arses.

Gansetseg thusly takes it upon herself to aid this girl by bringing her to an inn. But first…

“Mfffh?!”

The Miqo’te girl seems to come to life immediately as the Xaela stuffs some manner of spiced meatball in her mouth. Once she realises what happened, she chews slowly and swallows, gratefully.

“Uhh? Whatnow? Strange scalelander saved Oghii! Huge longtrade for lifetime!”

Gansetseg shakes her head.

“It is only the cultured thing to do to feed a starving trader in passage. However, while you regain your strength, I shall aid you in getting to an inn.”

The miqo’te seems initially hesitant, clutching her backpack like her life depends on it. As a travelling merchant, this likely isn’t too far from the truth.

Seeing the girl’s reaction, Gansetseg offers a compromise.

“I still struggle with coin, but perhaps I can offer you a trade? My people - well, my old people - are very adept at bartering. Perhaps this coat will suit you, in exchange for something heavy? You will find few things from this exquisite material.”

The Miqo’te’s eyes light up, as she produces some manner of collapsible cannon from her backpack.

The onlookers look away, shaking their heads.

The Miqo’te, very aware of the judgemental Elezen and Hyur around her and this kind stranger, frowns and her eyes lose their excited lustre.

Gansetseg, however, answers the girl’s enthusiasm in kind.

“I’ll take it! Now then, to the I-forget-the-name Night!”