“Hmm…” Murie muttered as she glanced at the harpoon on the table in front of her. “This is the symbol of the Barons.” She pointed to the insignia branded on the weapon. “Those crescents aren’t moons, but a simplified hollowed-out circle. I’ve no idea what the dodecagon represents, but the bident is their founder’s ancestral weapon associated with his baronial house.” She adjusted her glasses and turned to look at Lleidspaer. “And you say the contraband aboard the Morningstar had the same insignia?”
“Aye,” Lleidspaer replied. …When had she started talking like that? She would have to pay more attention to her words going forward.
Murie pursed her lips, tapping the end of her pen against her clipboard. “Well, as much as I hate to get embroiled in politics, this seems like a difficult situation for the Guild — there may be no other recourse. And the Foreseer is taking this so poorly…”
Indeed, K’lyhia had been despondent over the events aboard the Morningstar. Lleidspaer wasn’t sure if it was due to past trauma with their crew, the loss of her grimoire, or Lleidspaer taking over her command of the boarding party.
“Have you heard anything about the Barons since our assault?” Lleidspaer asked, eager to have something productive to do about the state of things.
Murie hummed thoughtfully. “I believe Commodore Reyner of the Yellowjackets was working on something. I’m not sure whether it’s related to the Barons, but some of the shorebound ex-pirates conscripted to Summerford Farms have been having some… behavioral issues.” She adjusted her glasses again. “Our Guild lacks the jurisdiction there, but it is our belief that the events with Kujata are connected. Geographically, it only makes sense.”
Lleidspaer nodded. “I see. Do I need Guild permission to take matters into my own hands?”
Murie looked uncertain. “As I said, it’s outside the Gate’s jurisdiction, but acting without license could see you in trouble with the Yellowjackets. Were I in your shoes, I would speak to Baderon. The Adventurers’ Guild often has more leeway to respond to crisis.”
“Very well. I shall take my leave,” Lleidspaer bowed.
Murie nodded distractedly, already returning to her shelving. “Oh, and by the way, Grymhaswyn: I hold no hard feelings regarding the… reading list the other day.”
Lleidspaer felt her face heat up. “Still, I owe you an apology. It would have been quicker for everyone had I made an appointment with Acting Guildmaster Guldweitzwyn from the start.”
Murie waved her off. “It’s as water under the bridge. Now go; you have an investigation to pursue.”
[. . .]
The fight was over.
Sevrin lay staggered on the ground as the Serpent Reavers made their hasty retreat. Lleidspaer let them go — they would spread the word of this loss. While that would be counterproductive if this were part of a larger operation on the half of the Yellowjackets, this was an independent mission. The loss would be a blow to their combat reputation and a message that Limsa Lominsa was done nursing its wounds and would no longer turn a blind eye to opposition gathering at its shores.
One of Sevrin’s former henchmen — Aylmer was his name, if Lleidspaer recalled correctly — still sat nearby, leaning against the rough stone of the canyon. He clutched his head in discomfort, muttering about Sevrin’s misdeeds. “Claimin' to take the lads out for a drink, only to lead us straight into a bloody trap!”
Sevrin’s belated change of heart made Lleidspaer deeply uncomfortable. What was he playing at, trying to keep the favor of both sides? He had been more than willing to throw away the lives of his crewmates, just until Lleidspaer showed up with reinforcements. And when the tides turned, he jumped ship without a hint of hesitation.
It was, unfortunately, a very intelligent ploy. It was also craven, opportunistic, and horrifically selfish. He had the decency to look remorseful, at least, but who knew how long he had been acting against the Thalassocracy in this way? How hungry were his pockets, and how empty was his soul?
While Lleidspaer was lost in her head — that was happening more and more frequently of late, a fact which she was beginning to find concerning — Sevrin had started to drag himself across the ground toward her, head bowed in shame. She quickly schooled her face back to a neutral expression. No need to broadcast her disgust so openly.
When Sevrin was just at Lleidspaer’s feet, he spoke. “I’d say I owed you my life… but that don’t cover it. If it weren’t for you, my friends would be dead, an’ all…”
True, Lleidspaer thought. It’s not your life I saved, but those of your… ‘friends’. She noticed that his leg was dangling limply behind him, and a surge of nausea rushed through her as part of her brain was forced back into the battlefield of Carteneau, looking down at her own injured form, leg pinned under a chunk of the fallen moon. Scowling, she forced herself back into the present, drew herself up straighter, and put a hand on the hilt of her rapier to steady herself. She kept her steel gaze fixed on Sevrin’s bent form but said nothing.
The boy glanced up at her and flinched. Lleidspaer didn’t soften her gaze. “I know, I know! ‘Tis a debt I can never repay. But I’ll not make things worse by runnin’ away. I’ll… I’ll face the consequences.”
The sound of the blade scraping free of its scabbard made Sevrin flinch again, though this time he kept his eyes squeezed shut, kept his body firm, and made no further attempt to flee. “Wait!” called Aylmer. One of Sevrin’s so-called ‘friends’. And very nearly a live sacrifice. Lleidspaer chose not to hear Aylmer’s pleas for mercy as she calmly, fluidly, held the blade pointed at Sevrin’s throat. The man swallowed.
“No matter what, I’ll always be in your debt, adventurer. I’ve… caused more than my fair share o’ trouble durin’ my time ashore — not that you need tellin’. Just… make it quick?”
Recognizing a fellow countryman — one without morals, one all too willing to sell out others for short-term gain, but a countryman nonetheless — Lleidspaer closed her eyes, gave a prayer to the Navigator (‘May this wayward soul find the path as he returns to the tides’),
and made it quick.
* * *
This is the second scene I ever drafted for this fic! I knew I wanted Lleidspaer to be the sort of ruthless, decisive actor who isn't afraid to mete out judgment. While playing as her, I saw her as a woman with a strong sense of right and wrong, and a devotion to doing what is right — but not nearly as forgiving as the WoL tends to be throughout FFXIV.
For those of you who haven't played the Limsa Lominsa starting quests: Canonically, Sevrin is taken to jail. The friends he almost sold to Leviathan want to show him mercy, so WoL puts in a good word for him with Baderon to have his sentence commuted. That... didn't sound like something Lleidspaer as I conceived of her would do.
Anyways, tune in tomorrow for a cheerful and uplifting scene as Nia'a has a touching heart-to-heart with another Keeper of the Moon! :) Definitely some of those words are true.
(S'ria does not hear G'raha's genuinely angry voice often, but he does hear it here)
S'ria does believe this to be genuine -- just that it can't change anything any more
and this is the final ultimatum anyway
S'ria is kind, he wants to understand and offer an olive branch when he can. He knows there's a point where there is nothing else to be done, and there IS only one resolution.
S'ria doesn't desire the violence, but he knows where they stand. He's done trying to argue, he's tired -- this will only end one way, and he's okay embracing that
And yet, perhaps she didn't think S'ria was like that. She seems almost angry -- but no, S'ria will not infinitely reach out a hand.
i think every job should have a dash button including crafters and gatherers because i love using my silly little button to dash ahead like 20 yalms whenever i can. its exhilirating.
The vampire vest along with the metian pants and shoes go so well together.
There is something about the night sky that I enjoy. Alone, looking up at the stars in the cool night air. It's something I did as a kid as an escape and I think it transfers to some of my characters, it does with Rasmus.
Being a silly goose can help deflect the little secrets, deep dark thoughts and vulnerabilities that only a privileged few might have access too.
Shame the pants make my ass a pancake!
Oh well ★¯\_(“3)_/¯★
also wish to say it's a shame that fun plot points and more well-developed themes for this story are basically Right There and the game is simply not taking them--like just off the top of my head, there's a moment where wol can be like "uhm do you think we need to worry about time moving differently while we're here?" and g'raha goes "nah it shouldn't be a problem" and out loud I said "of course not that would be too interesting."
so then we've got these two pretty clear, strong concepts with the soul regulator things, (1) you can't die and can become super-powerful, and (2) you can't remember anyone who dies -- if wuk lamat is gonna be the main character she should have been allowed to actually meaningfully engage with these concepts, ideally both! she just lost her father, and she has a powerful enemy who uses the regulator. wuk lamat being drawn in by the benefits of the regulator would both make sense and be actually interesting lol! AND as an added bonus it would make the whole story more cohesive instead of feeling like we did fuck-all for 97 levels and now we are doing a separate and only thinly related thing kjsfnkjfnkjf
the writing is Really rough overall for this expansion, though, like another moment that just stood out to me for how insane it was was when the whole group was going to follow sphene and alisaie hangs back and is like "this is suspicious right?" and then, new quest. "okay well now that we've established that this is suspicious let's move on" like WHAT? at LEAST 60% of scenes feel like they could have been massively streamlined, while anything even mildly interesting is either completely brushed aside or over way too soon. It just really does feel like the marks of very, very inexperienced writing.
okay i'm done complaining FOR NOW i'll finish tomorrow LOL
amandla
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