This FC-run RP plotline (dubbed Industrial Revolutions) crafted and organised by Brave has been incredibly fun, and with one last event to go, I’m feeling a pang of loss, along with overwhelming excitement for the finale :)
screenshots ft. @brave-horizon @endangered-liaison @theseventhdawn @norhimorovine
((The following is a lead up to why Aedos is in trouble with the Holy See. Pro tip: Never let Kail do the talking))
It had been a good night, one of those rare refuges from the world outside and any sorrow it could muster to chill the spirit. Kail wasn’t fond of the cold, anyone who had spent more than a day in his company could have guessed as much. He preferred the sun beating down, the sand between the toes of bare feet, and just a hint of salt in the air. However he had to admit, that when the freezing winds blew outside with a force to turn marrow to ice, the warmth of the fire inside was simply that much more enjoyable.
Enjoy it they did. Brave, Hyrtwyda, Aedos, and himself had a days worth of chill to chase from their shivering bones. They laughed at the events of the tourney, when Brave and Hyrtwyda had finally faced each other with their summoned carbuncles. They guffawed when Aedos related to them the events of the previous week’s expedition. Through it all they attempted to play cards, but each game seemed to break down when it was realized that Kail was finding new ways to cheat. Every time he was caught cheating, he was made to pay for more drinks, and the more drunk he became, the more he cheated. It was a vicious cycle.
With the coin Kail had won at the day’s festivities (or rather that Brave had won, and he had capitalized on) there was little pause in the drink that flowed to the table. There was no desperation to their foray into libation, as you saw with many fighters and explorers. That almost frantic need to be drunk that caused more trouble than it was worth wasn’t for them. Rather they eased into it, as if drunk was a wife waiting for them at the end of the day. Noses and cheeks turned slightly more red, despite their seats being right next to the fireplace, and their voices slowly and steadily grew louder and louder.
For the most past the crowd at the Forgotten Knight accepted this with good grace, some were even swept up by it, adding to the growing din. It was after all a fantastic night to be drunk. There was however one table at which frosty silence reigned. Kail didn’t know any of the Elezen seated there, but he knew the type.
There had been no end of changes in Ishgard of late, recent events had shifted the very foundations of the city. Where once had been a nation ruled by the iron law of the Church of Halone, now stood a republic governed by houses of the people. As with any power struggle, those who were given power were content, and those from who it was wrested were not. While the multitude of the church had been more or less docile in stepping down from the seat of power, not all did it with a smile.
The Inquisition had been the branch hit hardest by the change, before now their purpose had been clear cut, their power absolute, and when there was very little argument as to what constituted a heretic in the faith of Halone. Kail could only wonder what it was like to chisel such lines in the stone, only to see them shift like so much sand. By the symbols of Halone stitched into their cuffs, and the frosty silence between them that matched the outside chill, he suspected the table of Elezen knew from first hand experience.
It wasn’t long before one, a tall drink of water even by their standards with coal black hair and features sharp enough to cut yourself on, rose to his feet and sauntered over to their table. He offered a stiff bob of a bow to Aedos and then spoke in a rum rich voice that cut through the din with the ease of one used to public speaking.
“Madam Valleritignon?”
Aedos looked up mid-sip, swallowing in a fit of giggles that was passing around the table, she shushed the others before straightening out her tunic and comporting herself. “May I help you ser…?”
“Costos…I am a friend of your sister, and I simply wished to introduce myself and meet the woman she speaks highly of.”
Kail didn’t know much about Aedo’s home life, but there was something about that statement that unbalanced the woman. She was struggling to reach for words, her composure showing cracks. Costos spoke on “She spoke at length on the impeccable nature of your character..” his eyes swept with barely hidden disapproval at the other faces at the table “and of the sterling character of those you surround yourself with.”
Brave started to rise, the look on her face spoke clear as to what purpose. Hyrtwyda’s hand found her shoulder halfway out her seat though, and a slight shake of the Roe’s head dissuaded her from anything rash. Before anyone could look his way or suggest any sort of sense, Kail was out of his seat, and alighted upon their table with a slight drunken sway. Costos immediately took a few frantic steps back, his hand going to a cross-hilted sword on his belt. No attack came however, instead the grey haired pirate grinned at the collection of eyes now upon them. The entire inn was silent, waiting for violence to ensue.
“Ye ser…are obviously a fella in need oh a lark.” Kail grunted and swayed dangerously towards the edge of his perch, strangely enough his feet wove deftly in between the cups, cards, and piles of coin there, spilling neither. Recovering he gave a low bow and swept an arm out that seemed to draw in the onlookers even closer. “Fortunately for ye…I’ve jokes aplenty!”
Both Hyrtwyda and Brave attempted to signal Kail as to the poor footing of his current path, with warnings that ranged from the covert cough and glance, to the overt hand signals of impending doom. He barreled on however, clearing his throat, if these lads were going to hate him, he was going to give them a damn good reason.
“There once were three dragon siblins that lived in a mountain above a valley. Eldest Brother Kyrwyn, Middle Sister Saffyrn, and Least Brother Boswyk, shared their cavernous home in relative peace, with the occasional bout of boredom only every century or so. They amused themselves during these centuries, by watching the folk that lived below in the valley, much as children watch ants building a mound. They enjoyed watching the people scurry too and fro, workin in their fields, bakin their bread, and buildin their houses, their town shifting back and forth like a river in the immortal eyes of the dragon brood. Sometimes the three dragons would even disguise themselves and walk amongst the people of the village, Least Brother Boswyk in particular was fond of stealing pies from window sills while lookin fer all the world like a fair haired little cherub.
It was in fact, during one of these outings that he saw something both strange and unsettling. He heard a great bell tollin in the middle of the town from a great stone building, suddenly every townsperson young, old, small, and tall, dropped what they were doing and headed fer the immense stone vault.
They lined up in the wooden seats and packed in full. When the last of the available spaces were finally filled, they waited in silence till a tall man with a long beard and a great staff went to the front, and began to talk. He spoke of virtue and he spoke of guilt, of the great tall mountains, and the wee fishes. He told them how men could stand tall if but to trust in the skies, and he spoke of men’s cruelty to those he loved. Most concernedly t'Least Brother Boswyk, he told of how stealing pies was wrong, and only the most cruel punishments awaited thieves.
Now Least Brother Boswyk had never heard of stealin afore. He’d thought those pies were fer anyone who came along, but it scared him something frightful t'think what those folks would do t'him iffin they found out. So’s he ran as fast his little legs could carry him back t'the cavern oh his siblings, wailing all the way there.
Well Eldest Brother Kyrwyn heard his brother snuffling and asked him what was wrong, so’s he told him. Only it didn’t come out quite right cause of all of Least Brother Boswyk’s blubberin. Well cause he loved his little brother, Eldest Brother Kyrwyn decided to go down and see what all the fuss was about, disguisin himself as a strappin young man taller than most. He waited till the folk gathered in the great stone house, and went on in to have a talk with the old man therein.
He returned later that day, with a strange look on his face, and his siblins asked him what was wrong. ‘I asked the old man how one might atone for crimes committed. He said that crimes were forgiven unto those who picked up a sword and fought in their family’s name. I have no wish to fight though, for surely pies are not worth spilling blood.’
To this Middle Sister Saffryn heartily agreed, and suggested that perhaps Eldest Brother Kyrwyn hadn’t asked in the right manner. She said she would go back t'town the next time they gathered and ask in his stead. So eventually the day came, and the bells rung, and Middle Sister Saffryn went t'town disguised as a beautiful young willowy lass, dressed in sunshine and wreathed in flowers.
Well it wasn’t too long before she too came back looking crestfallen, and a little shame faced. Her brothers asked her what was wrong, to which Middle Sister Saffryn replied 'I asked the old man how one might avoid violence, and he told me I should wear more clothes, and not put wicked thoughts in the minds of young men. Am I so horrible?’
Her brothers assured her that she was not. Twas at this time that Least Brother Boswyk had decided his family had gone through enough on his behalf, and iffin they could not reason peace with the old man in the stone vault, then they would buy it. He loaded a satchel with some of the gold they hoarded in the back, enough to buy hundreds of pies, and six bakeries on top of that. Dragging the satchel behind him, he went to go reason with the old man in the vault.
Twas later that day that he returned, with no satchel, but more or less in one piece. His siblings ran out to greet him, happy their brother was whole. They asked him if all was well, if all was forgiven.
'Well I don’t know about that..’ said Least Brother Boswyk 'but my pockets are empty and my ass sure is sore’”
Kail finished with his arms spread wide, as if he’d just unraveled the mysteries of life and the universe. Aedos snapped her mouth shut, for it had been wide open, and started to look like she wanted to crawl into her tankard to escape the moment of silence that followed the joke finishing. Brave and Hyrtwyda both shook in their chairs, and kept their hands clamped on their mouths. If looks could kill, Costa’s would have been loading the trebuchet.
It started small and in the back, the snickering. It caught though, like a small fire that realized it wasn’t destined to be smothered. Soon it was full throated laughter, to which Hyrtwyda, Kail, Brave, and finally Aedos joined in. The other tables of the inn began howling and clapping their tankards on the table, asking for another round. Well…all except the table with Halone’s devout, they simply stared on, clutching their glasses, while the room laughed as one.
I have recently learnt of a sect of criminals whom hold aggression toward the Dufresne Bellworks. Being a member of the Bellworks’ security regiment, I am seeking a cessation to the actions of the aforementioned sect. I would be most thankful to hear any further information you have to offer on the whereabouts or a more detailed nature of these criminals’ activities.
I have been informed of a certain ‘history’ that is shared between this band of miscreants and the Dufresne Bellworks. It seems we, the Bellworks, or more specifically, Hyrtwyda Eyhafrynwyn, and Gwenneth Gilrouis, managed to disrupt the criminals’ operations somewhat, drawing their ire. I would know more of the scoundrels’ motives if you have evidence to their operations or objectives. It is not an unwise idea to attempt to bait them in to a confrontation where we may hold the ‘upper hand’ in negotiations, so to speak.
