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ala ghiri colors

#alyx #ala ghiri #the peaks #gyr abania #stormblood #emmer screens

Ala Ghiri

A lone chocobo kicked up dust in the low sunlight casting long shadows over the dry Gyr Abanian soil, destined for the sleepy town of Ala Ghiri. Its traveler was a miqo’te the color of sun-warmed desert sand, her thick mane of waves threatening to burst from the back of her kerchief in the arid breeze. She kept her eyes set on the lanterns just starting to blink awake where civilization in the dead of the Peaks came to life in the dying embers of daylight. Another slug from a canteen at her side, and the smell was not of water, but strong-brewed coffee. It was going to be a long night.

Months before, Liana Warden’s caravan had come bearing supply for her ailing hometown and was met with disdain for the snake-woman’s charity. They surrounded the carts and yelled, waving pitchforks and shovels, angry that their hometown traitor would come back and insult them with unrequested donation. They closed in and threw rocks, growing more and more violent in their indignant protest, deafened to reason. There was no choice—those with the Ward’s caravan acted in self defense and several of the villagers lost their lives in the scuffle while the rest ran for their lives in fear. Nobody came out a winner and the village was left wanting for blood.

Her debts to Luther were immeasurable. It was time for a little diplomacy.

#ffxiv #ff14 #writing #roleplay #mateus #mateus rp #mateus server #lolah #miqo'te #gyr abania #stormblood #ala ghiri #ala mhigo #chocobo #desert #sunset #oc

Criminally underappreciated background npc right here.

#ala ghiri #is a fun place #ffxiv #leveling adventures

Curio

It wasn’t difficult to track the irreverent band of misfits after a deal was struck with the calloused citizens of Ala Ghiri. Lolah had a keen sense for these things, not just as a jack-of-all-trades retainer but as a full-blown fixer—a damn good one. It wouldn’t be easy to clear the name of the Lamia of Ala Mhigo nor her husband, the Bastard Son of the Mad King, but deep debts could only be repaid with heavy offerings. Two heads’ worth in ponze, as a matter of fact.

Their airship was distinctive, same as it ever was, easy to pick out of the private hangars by its distinctive eastern paint job clearly done by a western hand. The decorative mural consisted of westerners wielding samurai swords with a smile that suggested some devilish secret, and of course would not be complete without blushing geisha with fans and skirts lifted to show long stretches of pale thigh; a kitschy approximation of Kugane devoid of spark or imagination, same as the man who commissioned the art and commanded the ship. This must be the place, then.

It so happened that his partner collected antiques and had a bit of a showroom of her curios from all around the world. Though it was a private curation, she took great delight in letting outsiders have a peek at the oddities her husband brought home to her on a monthly basis. Taxidermied creatures of impossible origin made up one section, consisting of Baritine crocs standing frighteningly tall and upright on long gagana legs, rare Doman tigers stuffed and outfitted with wyvern wings, and a snurble fitted with horrifyingly large jaws filled with row after row of sharp teeth; some creative and slightly morbid crafter’s artistry in the flesh. Hingan fans with all sorts of erotic paintings on the delicate paper hung from the walls, and framed canvases of an assorted number of yawning landscapes were packed frame-to-frame in such a way that made their presence overwhelming and cluttered in spite of their open pastoral depictions.

Lolah stared at the freak show with fascination and delight, forgetting for a moment that her attendance was for another purpose entirely. With a bright smile, she turned her eyes to the hostess and struck up the first of many conversations.