i want to ramble about my ffxiv mains so here we go!
Eloise Sharp, amnesiac sellsword. She woke up in a field clinic after the Battle of Cartenau with no memory of who she was or why she was there. She never bothered to look into it. She made a home in Ul’Dah and a living as a bodyguard for hire. She’s a classic butch lesbian with a giant axe and a love of naps.
Edelin Sharp, daughter to deserter Eloise Sharp. Her mother abandoned her duties to Ishgard to assist the Eorzean Alliance in their fight against Garlemald. This dealt considerable damage to Edelin and her father’s social standing; they currently live in the Brume. Edelin has dedicated herself to becoming a knight nearly to the exclusion of all else.
Sive Molrocca, Captain of the Discourteous Siren. Originally an orphan in Gridania, Sive had difficulty getting by. She eventually traveled south through Thanalan to Limsa, where she found work on a ship. Post-Calamity she became the captain. She delights in raiding Garlean ships and stealing their tech to take apart and study.
Muunokhoi Qestir did not want to leave the Steppe. But when her cousin wandered far without writing home, she got volunt-told by her aunt to go find him. She’s very homesick and expresses it with grouchiness and dislike of this strange place called Eorzea.
She could’ve gone anywhere, really. The benefit of having no ties, or memory of them at least. A little bit terrifying, if she was honest. The entire world ahead, all she had to do was pick a direction. And she could’ve taken the obvious one, followed the rosary to Coerthas and the Church of Halone. But it didn’t really interest her - and she’d heard the weather there had taken a turn for the frigid and honestly, fuck that shite.
If she was honest, she didn’t really choose. She just drifted. Took odd jobs helping the Companies, from moving rubble to digging graves. She didn’t fuss over the past or the future. The now had plenty to keep her occupied. She ended up traveling a lot, escorting people across a land that the Calamity had shifted and reshaped. Not that she noticed the difference.
Gridania was pretty, in a reserved kind of way. It felt too... proper. Like it was holding itself to some invisible standard. Eloise couldn’t shake the feeling that she stuck out like a sore thumb. The deep red of her second-hand armor probably didn’t help, but she liked the color.
Limsa Lominsa was nice, bright and lively. A bit humid for her liking, but the people were honest. But most of the work was sea-faring, and Eloise didn’t know much, but she knew she preferred dirt underfoot.
Ul’Dah was... good. Full of money-hungry merchants and fancy folk, but also honest sorts just trying to get by. The Sultana seemed to have a good heart at least. And she liked the heat and feel of the desert. It was a rough place, but genuine about its roughness. She could belong here.
At a glance most would describe her taste in clothing ‘comfortable and simple’. Her open wardrobe gives proof to that, loose and soft shirts to pair with well-worn trousers. Hardly any patterned fabrics, just solids in various shades of greyscale and the occasional deep red.
There are a couple fancier pieces tucked away, wrapped in gossamer and hung up at the back of the wardrobe. One scarlet dress with a dark corset; bought for some social event that got postponed and forgotten about. A fine suit; for formal events, the fancier clients that wanted her to look the part of an expensive bodyguard rather than a dust-covered thug, and very occasionally for pleasure.
Its for the last reason that Eloise takes the suit out, laying it across the end of her bed to carefully unwrap the protective covering. Blouse first, then trousers. She spends a few minutes searching for the matching boots buried at the back of the wardrobe. Then finally the coat. She idly straightens it as she looks to the mirror. She considers. Clicks her tongue. Undoes the first five buttons on her blouse.
She sees it coming. The burst of sand as the sundrake rushes forward. The lalafell turning round in time for its jaws to shut around their torso, not even enough time to scream before blood pours over the ground.
She blinks and the image is gone. Cicini stands before her whole and well. They arch a brow, expression a mix of fond and irritated. “Did you hear a word I said, Sharp?”
Eloise darts forward and snatches her client up from the ground in one arm, twisting to put herself between them and any threat. Not a second later a cloud of sand bursts around them. She lets them drop to the ground and takes a blind swing with her axe. It clangs against hardened scales and the drake hisses.
She almost kicks at its face, then thinks better of it. “Piss off!” It backs away from her next swing with another hiss. Will it run now that the easy meal is lost- no, it twists and lashes at her with its tail. Eloise side-steps and the jagged tip drives into the sand, sending up another brief cloud. Easy chance for a swing and she takes it.
It snarls and lunges forward, too fast, and a scream tears out of her throat as its teeth sink into her arm. Anger surges hot in her chest in answer to the pain. She blindly draws her dagger, stabbing repeatedly into the drake’s throat, blood soaking her hand.
More spatters through the air as ice spears up through the drake's neck. It gives a pained, pitiful rumble before falling to the ground. Its jaws still locked around her arm, Eloise has no choice but to follow, bracing herself awkwardly against its head. A quick patter of feet and Cicini stands beside them, eyes wide. “Seven hells… ah, here, let me…”
Eloise closes her eyes and focuses on breathing, trying to calm the burning inside her ribs. Not easy with her arm throbbing in time to her heartbeat. She keeps still as Cicini ties a tourniquet above the injury and clenches her teeth against a snarl as they pry the drake’s jaws loose. The salve they apply thankfully turns everything numb and the sellsword loosens their jaw to groan, “Fuuuuck.”
“You’ve more than earned a bonus in pay, I think,” Cicini assures her, tone a little too tight to be truly calm. She glances over and sees their hands trembling as they tie the bandage on. “That beast would have made a short meal out of me.”
A fact she’s all too aware of. She forces a smile that feels more like a grimace. “That’s why you put up with me, right?”
They chuckle weakly. “Indeed. I… how did you know it was coming?”
Eloise closes her eyes against the headache forming behind them. “...I have no idea.”
She had rushed to get here when she’d heard the news, had ridden her mount hard all the way from Thanalan, and then near-begged Ser Grimmia’s permission to join the fight. And here she was, clad in chainmail, proper lance in hand. Ishgard at her back and a horde of dragons ahead.
“I want you to stay down,” her mentor instructed in a low voice. “Close to me if you can. Do not take risks, strike only when you’re certain of your opening.”
Did she expect her to run headlong into the danger ahead? Were her words a lesson of caution? Or did she think Edelin would freeze in this first test? Was she giving her an out?
A dragon roared in the distance. Not distant enough. Edelin swallowed and gripped her lance tightly. Her heart thudded against her ribs and she glanced at the assembled soldiers and knights around her. Were any of them as terrified as she was?
Ser Grimmia’s hand gripped her shoulder for a brief moment. Edelin sucked in a breath. Trust her training, trust her fellows. They would get through this.
“Today the horde drives for Isghard.” Ser Grimmia spoke loudly now, addressing all present. “And today we will not allow it. Forward!”
She tried to follow her instructions, to keep close to the knight as they all surged forward to meet the swooping horde. As the two collided she lost track of the other knights, could not hear anything past the clash of metal against scale and the rush of her own heartbeat. She focused on what was in front of her; the back of Ser Grimmia as she fought a drake. Edelin circled around and drove her lance up into its side. It yowled and snapped back at her, but she’d already stepped back and away, and Ser Grimmia’s lance pierced through its throat.
She quickly lost track of the number of dragons they faced, the horde seemingly never-ending. Yet another descended, spitting flame across the bridge, and Edelin threw herself backward to safety. When she landed she found herself alone, mentor lost in the chaos around her. Panic seized her chest, her limbs frozen for a brief moment - something slammed into her back, knocking the wind from her chest and sending her sprawling. She looked up into the maw of a dragon. A growl rumbled in its chest and her hand clutched on empty air; her lance, where was it?! No time to look, she could only scramble back as the dragon lunged forward-
A flash of metal; blood spilled across the stones as the dragon recoiled, roaring in pain. It turned, snarling, to the new foe that had cleaved down its side.
“That’s right, you scaly wanker, get over here!”
Again Edelin froze, this time in shock, her mouth agape at the warrior clad in plate and dark leathers. The dragon surged forward with a snarl and raised a foreleg to swat at this new foe; her rescuer swung her axe to meet it, the blade cutting deep.
The dragon stepped backward and Edelin scurried out of the way. She spotted her lance where it had fallen and snatched it up, holding tight to it and the certainty it brought. A dragon had its back to her, an opening for the taking. She leapt forward, driving her lance into the dragon’s shoulder with all her weight. It roared and staggered to the side. She wrenched the weapon free, thrust again, and the dragon fell.
Her rescuer shouldered her axe as she lifted the visor of her helm. “You good, kid?” she asked over the din of battle.
Again Edelin stared at her mother. “What in the Fury’s name are you doing here?!”
“You left in a rush, I got worried.” Eloise grinned before slapping her visor back down. “C’mon, job’s not done.”
She stares up at the sky as the battle rages on around her. She should get up, some small part of her knows, should push past the throb of pain in her shoulder, but she cannot tear her gaze away from the bursts of aether above. The sounds of battle begin to fade, an odd feeling of calm settling over her.
Hear…
She hears nothing. Figures move at the edges of her vision, but they are nothing beside the shower of light above.
Feel…
She feels warmth pooling around her shoulder. That arm refuses to move, and it takes effort to drag the other, grasping weakly for her rosary.
Think…
She’s dying, isn’t she? She must be. Her hand closes around the holy symbol at her throat, mouth moving soundlessly as she prays.
---
A roar shakes the earth and before she can stop herself she’s looked behind and up. The sight of the ethereal dragon freezes her to the core, not only in fear but in knowing. She has seen this before. Has she?
Something strikes the primal and it roars again as it retaliates, aether bursting around the two in a brilliant show of light. She cannot bring herself to look away, frozen in place, and all sound seems to fade.
Hear…
Has this happened before? Yes?
Feel…
Like strapping on a shield, it’s all-too-familiar.
Think…
She’s been here before. At Cartenau - she does not remember, but she knows-
“Eloise!”
She startles as someone yanks on her arm, gasping a breath, and quickly tamps down the impulse to run. She’s needed here, the fight’s still going and she’d frozen up, focus, Sharp! Box it up, worry about it later.
