#sonsofnumenor

[benjimirthursby]

The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor.  “Catch and Release.”

“Maelstrom had obligations to the Alliance and Grand Companies.  Such were taxing its means to support the stifling presence Commodore T’Subaki had established against the Confederacy.  Indeed, the slowly escalating conflicts ashore were forcing the Company fleet to stretch thinner and revert to tactics more prevalent in our first years. The risks were not what we remembered."  - Katryn Vaunter, Personal Log.

The Scion Air Ships (SAS) Fairstar, Fairwind, Fairsea and Andustar (ex-Fairsky) comprised the four Saxton class airships in Company service.  Andustar, Fairstar and Fairwind  were escorting a long mixed convoy of surface and air ships toward Kugane.  Ex-baggers, over several refits by the Company, the Saxtons had forsaken their lifting “air bags.”  Replacing them were greatly enhanced Garlean style Corulium wheels amidships and lift plate along her conventional waterline.  The class retained the masts support lines which added a grace while underway and utility in close action.  But their profiles allowed them to pass for merchant vessels at a distance.  Aesthetically the Saxtons resembled fat paddlewheel passenger boats in some respects.  Only with gun casemates studding the sides rather than the passenger verandas.

The assorted gun mounts housed a mix of new and somewhat antiquated mid-caliber naval guns.  Her main deck offered swivel guns and arms intended for boarding and repelling of boarders.  Comfortable, well equipped and immaculately kept, the Saxton class were antique improvised compromises all the same.  Leadership, tactics and the skill of crews made them into effective warships and Commodore T’Subaki had been at the root of that.  

“Continuous bearing, decreasing range, time to track inception five minutes.” the ensign at the plot table said aboard Andustar.  Her captain, Katryn Vaunter and Commodore Aubreen T'Subaki listened.  "Azimuthal quad screw, wheels, no bags.  Two gun decks."  Vaunter reported as she used her hand scopes to view the contact.

Open piracy had not known a more miserable time at sea.  Able to check the Confederacy and pirates on the open ocean for years, such had not prevented the would-be toll keepers and pirate lords from convincing privateers to challenge them.  This was the third such challenge of the journey.

"Designate Privateer One." Vaunter ordered.  

T'Subaki glanced over the plot table.  "I have him captain."   

"Commodore has the con." Vaunter said in turn.  

"Signal Fairwind to proceed 15 points to port and advance to emergency ahead.  Then bring us to a direct course abeam." T'Subaki ordered, peering at the makeshift commerce raider hardly more than a small dark silhouette.

Andustar and Fairwind turned from their positions within the convoy.  Free trade was not the wish of the ruling men of Hingashi, but it was powerless to enforce tribute or escorted vessels from making port in Kugane.  The Confederacy had presented a barrier to most trade until Maelstrom pressed independent pirates into compliance with it and the Thursby Company Fleet pushed the rest aside.

"Pennant flying."  Captain Vaunter said over her shoulder to the commodore whose attention was now on the opposite side of the convoy.  "Aye, Sunrise and sword on a purple background.  I saw it."  T'Subaki said.  

"Plot, report all contacts." T'Subaki ordered, her gaze to the distance unbroken.  The ensign glanced at his chart.  "My only contacts are convoy and Privateer One." he replied, looking up and seeing the direction of the commodore's attention.  As he did the sound phone buzzed.  He picked the handset up and answered. "Plot.......right then" replacing the headset on its hook.  He began to update his chart and announced "Con, new contact, starboard bow,  unknown vessel type, range 18 kilometers.  Bearing and speed undetermined." the ensign reported.  "Con aye.  Designate Ghost One.  Mister Vaunter the con is yours, Take us in."  T'Subaki acknowledged.

"Those eyes." Vaunter thought to herself as she snapped her hand scope toward a small dot just above the line of the horizon.  "Signal Fairstar to increase angels to fifteen hundred and maintain speed.  Helm, advance to flank. Signals, send all ships to stand to quarters. XO, rig for boarding action." Vaunter ordered in a flurry that sent still more orders along their chains of command and duty. The increased altitude would make it clear to the new contact that the convoy was escorted if the new contact was hostile.  The Andustar and Fairwind would still be obscured from it.  But the privateer would know also.  All the more reason to close the shrinking distance with it quickly.  

The Andustar rumbled as her corilum powered furnaces surged and the power shunted to her thrusters. As her speed increated the inverted, or ramming bow created pressure which depressed it.  Small thrusters in the bow and increased power to the Garlean designed lift wheels evened its pitch.

The Fairwind made her best speed away from the convoy.  As Andustar closed within a kilometer T'Subaki retook the con.

"Signal Fairwind to begin her run and pull the hook in.  Plot report changes, contact Ghost One?" T'Subaki asked.

The ensign replied, sound surprised,  "Unchanged, holding at original position, now ten kilometers off starboard bow."

T'Subaki nodded and leered at the dark shape in the distance.  The faint look of misgiving did not escape Vaunters attention. 

"Trouble?" she asked.  T'Subaki shook her head and turned toward the contact abeam.  

"No, the Garleans are not disposed to raid commerce." she said.

Vaunter whose look of concern was followed by a quick look with her scopes.  

"Garlean?"

 "Yes, oversized, incoherent design.  Gaudy, gilded details like a flying house of ill repute. " T'Subaki said with a tone of derision.

"But lets be about the business at hand." 

The matter of contact Ghost One was subordinated to after action discussion.  The women both turned to the plot table.  Seeing Fairwinds position, T'Subaki raised her voice.

"Signals, send Privateer One, issue hostile challenge and order them to stand away from the convoy or it will be fired upon.  Helm, reduce speed to ahead dead slow, come to starboard and present port broadside.  All mounts to global control.  And raise my colors.  Execute."  T'Subaki ordered.  

Twice already this cruise from Limsa to Kugane, a motley assortment of vessels, some bearing no weapon more threatening than the smell below decks had challenged the convoy.  As before T'Subaki deployed her ships to ensure their lack of speed and numbers did not allow for their escape.

"Action on the decks."  Vaunter observed as the privateer waivered in her course as its crew scurried about.  "They are preparing to fight." she added.  T'Subaki nodded and shook her head.  

"Their effort would be flattering were it not so ill advised and the methods amateur." T'Subaki said.  It was not the futility of this would be raider but the unseen parties that must be driving them to try.  Consulting the plot, she nodded again. "Signal Fairwind to engage.  Then signal Privateer One to strike colors and prepare to be boarded."  

As in the previous two encounters Fairwinds course formed a hook shape on the plot chart.  Like a fisher the company escort would effectively catch and release the raider after a short fight, boarding and dropping ordinance over the side.  

"Fairwind engaging." Vaunter said as from the ships forward most casemates flashes and delayed cracks announced a warning volley over the privateers bow.  "Response from Privateer One?" T'Subaki asked.

"Negative, only latent coms noise on the link." the signals bosun replied.  T'Subaki furled a brow.  "The new link pearls or upwell set?" she asked.

The bosun shook his head. "New."

"Very well, log the issue after action.  Signal, clear Fairwind to engage hostile, route ship-to-ship channel to the plot handset, link two." T'Subaki said.  Vaunter spared a look. "Not worried we might miss a reply?" she asked.  T'Subaki shook her head. 

Aboard the privateer the scattered efforts of its crew finally produced a deck of loaded cannons. Either a fire order or fearful gun captain led to one firing, which led then immediately to the decks entire division to discharge.  The rounds largely failed to strike save a few shells which burst against the improvised armor plates.  These plates were used for protection and emergency ballast aboard the Saxton class.

"Not worried at all.  The new links have not failed yet, if the quality leaves much to be desired." she T’Subaki told Vaunter as the vibration from the ad hoc barrage calmed. "Helm, ahead full."  She ordered.

Picking up the handset at the plot table T'Subaki flipped a switch, "Control, Con, current track, Kill Gun, all mounts.  Commence firing, fire continuous."  T'Subaki flipped the channel selector to the next setting which connected it to the ship-to-ship Linkpearl box at the signals station.  "Fairwind, Flag, weapons free, nav free, mind our solution and prevent Privateer One from egressing the engagement."  

Within a moment, the full port side armement of Andustar fired.  As quickly as each could reload the guns fired again.  The vibration and noise merged into the engines surging to their full power thrusting the ship forward.  Fairwind turned hard to starboard and released her own broadside.

Fairwind and Andustar circled the ship slowly.  Their combined fire ripped through the air and into the privateer relentlessly. The engagement that followed was as lopsided as the contrast in combatants. In a matter of minutes the return fire had ceased, deck fires were prevalent and the ships propulsion and lift screws were destroyed.  

Falling from the sky, the burning hulk shed crew into the water before drawling too much water the capsizing.  Fairwind held station to recover survivors before rejoining the convoy.  Andustar sprinted to resume her place near the front of the flock it escorted.  

The convoy itself never stopped moving nor changed course.  Fairstar resumed her cruising altitude and position within the convoy.  Kugane was now a half days sail.  "Fairsea, Orrostar and Cutlass put to sea this morning with the convoy to Limsa.  Watch Tondera was advised of the downing and the Garlean contact.  All ships are proceeding as before"  Vaunter summed the watch notes in the officer galley.  

The freshly offwatch officers were celebrating around them.  No prize to be had, the privateer was not captured.  All the same, after confronting and subduing two earlier assailants there was satisfaction in sounding hammering the third.

"Whatever the new Garlean ship was it never moved until the convoy passed.  Then it drew east bearing toward Limsa." Vaunter added.  T'Subaki sipped at her glass of a wine from Ul'Dah.  And thoughtfully looked at her friend, lover and protégé.  "In your written after action report, note the performance issues with the Linkpearl gear."  She said, catching Vaunters eyes long gaze for a deliberately long moment before a mutual knowing laugh broke punctuated the moment. "Early morning dear, convoy putting into port.  Shall we retire?"  T'Subaki asked rising from her seat beside Vaunter.

"Very well.  We can….debrief more then I hope."  Vaunter said with a smirk tucking and arm about T'Subaki's waist as they walk to the exit.

*******

[scionsofnumenor]

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[benjimirthursby]

Prompt #10: Avail - “Weaving the Cloaks, Forging the Dagger.” - The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor

“I never expected that our work would evade notice, rather I hoped to effect some measure of control over how it was observed, assessed, judged.”

-Benjimir Thursby, “Seven Stars to the Horizon.”

(Revised 9/21 for additional content, details, grammar, and Feng Shui.)

Officially it had no formal title, but in communique and common speech it was referred to as Company Hall.  Among the officers of the Thursby Company it was often named Tondera Hall, for reasons none would explain when asked.  Among the Scions company it was called the White Tree after the first sub-level which had been arranged into a spa by the same name.  The spa was open to the public and frequently served recuperating company members.  The first level held a service desk at which members of all companies, guests, and customers of the spa conducted business.  A crafting, engineering space, which Ossimira Miegs seemed to dwell in all hours the night and day was behind the service desk.  Scattered through the hall, in sub-levels under the main building, were quarters and rooms.  Most were in the hill abutting the hall, others in the sub-levels along the ridge overlooking the nearby streams and lake.  This afforded many rooms windows.  Collectively the design also made the hall seem deceptively small as seen from it’s courtyard.

Benjimir kept personal quarters in Company Hall.  Also, there were offices for the newly appointed business management gurus the Twinkinryker twins.  A few rooms served as backups to their Thursby Company counterparts in Ul’Dah.  Benjimir was in conference with his younger brother Bondermir in one such room.  A plaque on the door identified it as AUXFLTOPS.  The Auxiliary Fleet Operations room.  There was next to it a similar room whose focus was caravans and warehousing related.

In the far end of the room was a large map on the wall.  On the map were color coded paper icons representing company ships, convoys, anchorages and port slips.  Each was pinned to the map with a small slip of paper naming each.  Ships were labelled by class, origin, destination, mission and commander.  Strings from the icons led to each ships destination on the map. 

Two clerks, “up wellers,” Sammie and Adler, sat at the Watch Desk next to the map.  They had a small Linkpearl box in front of them.  The box was of Eorzean craft, intended to channel many links to it.  Those paired links were in boxes aboard each of the ships on the map.  As updates were received, the maps, ledgers, schedules and other information were updated there.  In Ul’Dah an identical room, larger and more elaborate, replicated the effort.  Which room actively took responsibility for “the watch” rotated.  Today “Tondera” had the watch.  Another set of rooms nearby and in Ul’Dah were similarly appointed and focused on caravans.

“Watch, Baxter.  Arriving, Kugane slip 3, FSB 1251.” a voice said over the link box.  Adler marked a log and spoke into the box.  “Baxter, Watch aye.  Time in, Fleet Standard Bell 1251.”  Adler walked to a short step ladder in front of the main map and updated the marker for the ship and moved it to Kugane.

Benjimir returned his eyes from the Watch desk to the map he and Bondermir were standing in front of.  His attention was drawn repeatedly to the older map on the opposite wall.  A few years prior it tracked Company and Maelstrom vessels and points where battles had been fought in the Dragonsong War.  None involved Company ships at that point.  In the years since the current map in front of him traced points of contact and combat, mostly with pirates and the initial engagements with the Confederacy to the present day.  Points of contact with Garlean ships were highlighted.  There had not been any fighting since the previous war and little even then.  The Imperial fleet had been scattered and unable to mass during the conflict.  

“The Alliance wants nothing to do with it, but the sentiment in the ranks isn’t solidly behind their leadership.” Bondermir said.  He pointed up at several places on the map.  “There are skirmishes all along these Imperial zones of control, Ala Mihgo, and such.” he added.  Each zone had one or more ports and shipping lanes traveled by Company ships.

“And we have business interests, caravans and Scions all over those places.” Benjimir lamented.  “If this escalates and the Alliance is drawn into a fight involving the Empire we may have a difficult time avoiding contact this time.  Our footprint is bigger now.” he said rhetorically as Bondermir knew this as well as any in the Company.

“Aye.  It is aligned with our intents and interests to oppose the Imperials.  If this continues to track along its current path the Alliance will get drawn into it.  If they are pulled into a shooting war I don’t foresee how we avoid it either.”  Bondermir said.  Benjimir nodded his head and pointed to the areas nearest to the Imperials.  The conversation paused.

At the duty desk the clerk picked up a small card and reached to another device next to the Linkbox.  It resembled a childs toy, a small keyboard with six keys and a small speaker, set in a wooden box with gold painted decorative details.  The clerk pressed a button on the linkbox which locked the transmission open then began to tap the keys on the new device. She pressed two keys like playing a musical instrument, each resulted in a different tones playing.  She repeated this six times with two different keys each then spoke into the Linkbox.  “Watch testing with Forrostar, Andustar, Baxter, Fairstar, Fairsea, Entulesse. FSB 1300.”

“We need eyes and ears out there.  And everywhere else really.  This is happening weather we or the Alliance wants it or not and we’re still treating this like a research project writ large.” Benjimir said, turning to his brother.  

“Business ledgers, passenger manifests, field reports from the Scions don’t tell us enough of what we need to know.  We have more shipping agents than intelligence agents.  We won’t avail ourselves anything by being passive here.  With the Twinkinrykers onboard now I’m naming you our Director of Strategic Information.  I need spies Bondermir, a lot of them.” Benjimir said.

At the Watch desk the Linkbox squawked with a long three tone signal, which was assigned to the Company Hall.  A voiced followed up as Sammie and Adler began to mark entries into their logs and close them.  “Tondera, Ul’Dah.  Tondera we stand ready to relieve  you.”  the voice said.  Sammie leaned forward and pressed the key to talk on the Linkbox.  “Ul’Dah, Tondera, we stand relieved.”  A moment later the voice from Ul’Dah spoke again.  “Tondera aye.  All players, all players, Ul’dah has the Watch, FSB 1305, good day!”

Bondermir cringed at the identical twin Lalafells taking up much of his work over the Thursby Company but it was something long planned.  “For both companies?” He asked.  Benjimir shook his head.  “No, only the TC.  Keep this clear of the Scions of Numenor.  We need them to keep their hands clean.  Variance from that is at my sole discretion, is that understood?” Benjimir said with a stern look.  

“Understood sir.  When should I begin?” Bondermir asked.

“At once and with haste.  I already feel a draft on our backside.  Like we are missing something.  Right now, we are the fly on the web Bondermir.  The Empire is a ruthless but professional organization.  An unambiguous risk to already know we are here or to endanger our people.  We need to know not only what is happening but to guard ourselves from those that maybe watching”  Benjimir said.

“It will be done.” Bondermir said.  He looked at the center of the room.  There sat the wargaming table.  A prized possession and training tool of commodore T’subaki.  It was a map of Haydaelyn’s Ruby Sea with an overlapping grid.  Along the side of the table, arranged in neat rows were small model ships of unique design, presented from the waterline up.  It was used to model possible engagement scenarios, plan and test responses.

“I wish there was a game for planning this sort of thing out.” Bondermir thought to himself.

*******

[benjimirthursby]

"Many Ripples Bore of One Echo." - The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor. [FFXIV Write 2020, Prompt 1]

"Terms differed, my name carried no currency or reputation.  But you find that true historians recognize one another by the questions they ask.  You can gain access to almost anything, it is just knowing how to ask." - Tinifalas Thursby, "Stranger  in a Strange Land." 

The caravan from the north had arrived the day after Benjimir as his party made landfall.  The air sloop which carried to ground from the Entulesse had returned with some of its passengers to the city state of Ul'Dah directly.  Each day of the seven since, a wagon broke-away to differing routes to the city or elsewhere.  Each in turn bore a few newcomers to these shores.  In this way all melted into the bustle and traffic of the roads 

The wagon held Benjimir's attention this morning.  Held aloft by bags of gas, the ride was agreeably smooth.  Graceful.  Slightly less graceful but even more interesting was the enormous fowl drawing the wagon.  Accompanying him were his brothers Bondermir and Tinifalas asleep next to him, as well as an older man who seemed blissfully serene simply watching the road pass.

"Chocobo." The grey bearded fella sitting across from Benjimir said.  He snapped Benjimir out if his stare over the great bird at the looming citadel of Ul’Dah, still hours away.  He was a keeper of the beasts and on the Gil roll of the Thursby Company.  Benjimir nodded.  A pair of riders flanked the wagon, mounted on saddled on these Chocobos.  These were adorned in dark feathers and leather cladding over their chests.  Company men Benjimir knew.

"Not many at sea eh, but I suppose if there where you'd not need all them bags and twirlies." The man said.  He had a curious accent that differed from the few he had heard so far.

Benjimir smiled and nodded again.  “I suppose not.  Docile creatures.  Hardly seem to need direction.”  Bondermir, roused from a light sleep beside the men looked to the distance as the wagon neared a small village straddling the road.  Wooden palisades surrounded the village save for some small farm and paddocks.  

“We’ll be stopping soon sir, breakfast, a trade of Chocos, then onto Ul’Dah.” Bondermir said as he rose and leaning over the side of the carriage gestured at the flanking riders.  The riders tipped their heads in acknowledgement and spurred their mounts and galloped ahead into the village.  

“Good, how long to the city from here?” Benjimir asked as the wagon neared the outer palisade gate.  Bondermir resumed his seat and looked to the old man.

“MMmm, five hours at our pace, what say Brendt?” Bondermir speculated, differing to the keepers wisdom.  

“Mhap, sun’s out, might tucker the old girls if they can’t water along the way.” Brendt offered.

“The girls will have their water, no need for haste I think.”  Benjimir assured him.

The wagon halted outside a small cafe alongside a livery stable.  Tinifalas finally woke from his snooze and looked about.  The escorting riders had already tied off their mounts and were returning from the inside with egg and bacon filled biscuits and cups of a hot drink which they ate happily as they leaned back along the cafe porch.

The men exited the carriage and stable boys saw to taking the wagon to the stables.  “I’ll take my leave of yas sirs.  Another wagon is due southbound here and a bit.”  Brendt said.

“Always on the move my friend.”  Bondermir said, clasping Brendt’s hand to shake.  Bondermir did the same.”

“Well you knows, always some traveler showing up, half asleep, not knowing the lay of things.  Bit less exciting here than up north.  Be well sirs.”  And with that Brendt smiled and turned toward the stable.  Benjimir and his brothers walked up the steps to the cafe.  The escort riders snapped to their feet, awkwardly lowering their biscuits and cups to their sides.

Benjimir tipped his head to the men and sought a seat at one of the tables outside.  A woman, one of the small folk, the Lalafels, in a perky white and red checked dress and apron took their orders.  Another accent, chirpy, happy.

“Happy peoples.” Benjimir mused as the Lalafel returned with drinks.  “Great variety in dialects but uniform in language.” He continued.  Tinifalas, the historian at large for the House of Thursby and it’s companies nodded.

“Extraordinary really.  But that is the reason why we are here in the end.” Tinifalas said, pulling a book from his rucksack out of habit.

“I’ve never understood how, so far from our shores, so many years traveling from them, we arrive here….” Bondermir said, gesturing with his hands as the surrounding area “...and find peoples and races speaking our own language.  You’d think it absurdly impossible.” he finished.

“Improbable, not impossible.” Benjimir said, thanking the Lalafel as she place a plate of biscuits and topped off the drinks.  Tinifalas nodded.

“Yes.  There are a number of theories about how such things could occur.” Tinifalas said, taking a biscuit.

“Et  Ominis Lingua Resurgemus, the concept that with enough time, all tongues shall rise.” Benjimir said, taking his own biscuit an especially large one, slapping Bondermirs hand as it reached over the nearest to him for it.

“Pan Lingua Spermia, the idea some fragment of thought can eventually spread and give rise to identical languages.  Tinifalas offered, mouth half full but eyes bright as topics dear to him were in play.

Benjimir, mouth also full, pointed a finger at his brother and nodded sharply.  “That.  But how.  And again, the real crux of this is your finding her name and those books.  A language we no longer speak commonly, here, among people who do not know it or speak it in the memory of anybody.”  He finished, most of his biscuit managing not to land on the table.

“Marde.” Bondermir said unconvinced.  “‘C’demics in the wild.  Her name could be the product of slurred speech after a night of celebrating her birth at a pub.  Or meshing family member names together.  And your theorizing, could work as well in reverse.  Whose to know.”  He finished.

“No one maybe.  Tini’s friends on the island,” Benjimir said, nodding to his brother, “...they looked to you to answer the same questions, they didn’t know.  But I think finding out is one of the questions we need to resolve.”

“Where to start then?” Bondermir asked.

“Refills, another biscuit.” Bondermir remarked then mid-bite cast his eyes toward each brother.

“Then to Ul’Dah.  Of course.  Breakfast first.  But I want to see our interests there, these book of yours Tini.” Benjimir said. “Not to the Company Hall to….” Tinifalas started but Benjimir shook his head.   “Not yet.  But soon.  First though, biscuits.” Benjimir said, slapping Bondermir’s hand again as he reached for the fresh plate of biscuits.

[benjimirthursby]

FFXIV Write 2020 - Prompt #3 “An Introductory Reunion.” The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor

"Patterns can be observed across many disparate things. Quiet and the later storm.  Moments of pronounced calm and subsequent turmoil. Purists in academics may contend no possibility of commonality between them exists.  A more expansive view less constrained by convention however would recognize portents in and between all things." - Wang'Chunt Tun'nyht, "On the Operational Arts." 

“An Introductory Reunion.” The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor

The sum of the meal with Bloehiswyn met the purpose Aubreen had for it.  To connect the Admiral with Benjimir.  She, as much as Bloehiswyn was unsure of his mind as to what lay ahead for the Thursby Company.  The quickly concluding work at sea made her all the more aware of being unable to divine the future and it engendered an uncertainty she was not accustomed too.

Bloehiswyn took her leave after an hour brandy and cigars following dinner.  Benjimir had managed to milk a sniffer of top shelf brandy for the full hour without taking a sip.  A skill he was famous for.  A good sign Aubreen judged.  It meant the meeting, Benjimir and sustaining the alliance with the Thursby Company was seen of long term value to Maelstrom.  For what use or purpose to be determined still.  Also that Benjimir had not lost his ability to linger about liquor without imbibing.  Rather than return to Limsa Limosa aboard Bloehiswyn’s ship, she would travel with Benjimir by Aetheryte, a first for him.  Common enough for the rest of the Company officers but something Benjimir was fascinated with. 

Benjimir exited the list on the main level of tower with his brothers.  They departed for the Company quarters and he approached her, a warm smile building as he neared.

"Golodh." Benjimir said in the old words.

"Ionneg." the commodore said, returning the smile.  The friends hugged and Benjimir stepped back, making a point to exaggerate an inspecting look over her. “THIS is an auspicious look for you.”

Aubreen smirked.  “Do as is done when in a strange land.  Besides, I rather enjoy change.”  She gestured towards the promenade and they began to walk towards the Aetheryte plaza.  “It has been good to be in open air, striving, and if I may allow myself, to taste victory after so much time.”

Benjimir nodded, “You’ve earned a reputation in the field.  But never mind that, tell me.  Katryn Vaunter?  You fox. In an age I’d never thought it.”  he said, to which Aubreen paused a moment.  “Little stays private on fleet.  Yes, maybe four years now.  Tinifalas swooned, wouldn’t stop writing about it for a month.  Nothing escapes that book of his.”  she said and continued walking.  “I’m aware it wouldn’t be above board were we up well, on fleet.” Aubreen added.  

“But we aren’t nor is it my place to have say. I could not be happier for you, or her.  After a lifetime taking after you as the template for formality, prim and properness, it’s exciting to see you now like this.” Benjimir said.

Aubreen smile and then took on a chastising tone.  “I think it would be well to unstiffen your collar some yourself my boy.” Benjimir took it in stride and shaking his head.

He slipped into a rehearsed response he’d given before.  “I’m not sure anything has been or remains further from my mind Aubreen.  I’ve been buried in briefings, formalities, the trappings of my work for so long, I have gotten….”

“Uptight.” Aubreen interrupted, having heard the speech often enough.  She pointed toward the end of the bazaar they reached at the end of the promenade and they continued walking.

“Uptight is a strong word, rather I think of it as being a fidelius adherent to austere personal interactions.” Benjimir mockingly retorted.  

“Practicing an economy of words is a virtue. Your uptight.”  Aubreen replied and turned to him as they reached the aetheryte plaza.  “Take counsel from me on this Ben.  As one whom is practicing what she is teaching you.  These are new shores second only those those of home to me in the beauty they possess.  There is work to be done here, I know not what, but this world is new.  Allow for yourself here.  You’ll feel reborn.”  She said, patting him on the cheek maternally.  

As they spoke, a woman walking towards the plaza paused, taking stock not of Benjimir but of Aubreen.  The keen eyed observer would have noted her eyes taking stock of the Commodor’s rank insignia on her epaulet and the seal of House Thursby on her shoulder.  Her dress was a clumsy attempt at appearing as one of standing but in effect struck those that knew her as garish.  She stepped aside from the pathway to appear to tend her purse.

“I will do my best to unstiffen.  But to the moment.  I’ve seen these giant crystals at waypoints all the way to Ul’Dah.  This is going to……” Benjimir paused as a Miqo’Te rose off the ground and seemed to fade from view amidst a swirl of blue light.  “....that….to this muster in Limsa?” he finished.  Aubreen smirked.

“Yes.  I’ve done it my fair share.  Perfectly safe as long as moons aren’t exploding in the sky.” She replied looking over the levitating crystal before them.  “It is actually a rather peaceful experience, worse ways to go if it ever does go ill.”  

Benjimir shook his head and shrugged in acceptance.  “New shores.  Is Maelstroms muster normal, for special purpose?”  he asked Aubreen.

“Holdover from less ethically constrained times.  A pirate tradition of sorts.  Divvy the fleets prize swag, consume ale, make judgmental comments about their gender of choice.  Might do well to work on that unstiffining before tomorrow.”  She explained with a grin.  

“What in the almighty are you getting me into.  Let’s get about it though.” Benjimir lamented and gestured ahead to the inner chamber of the plaza.  

The woman watched them proceed ahead before turning about and returning to her business’ office.  

*******

[benjimirthursby]

Prompt #9: Lush - “Barstool Acolytes.” - The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor

“The logic of avoiding “up well” leverage proved valid enough.  The doctrine of Three Degrees was Benjimir’s most basic tenant.  You never, ever present in battle or prior to it a means which you do not already have the means to detect, defend against and defeat.  Here, it was also to avoid tipping our hand to foes we had not identified or assessed as yet.  That did not mean however we weren’t observed for other reasons which would cost us dearly later on.”  

~Bondermir Exidines, “Seven Stars to the Horizon.”

(Revised 9/20 for clarity, spelling and low fat content.)

“So she pushes that antique cart all about the city serving drinks?” Benjimir asked Bondermir as they road the elevator down from the Dapper Mariner.

“Nightly, twice on Saturday’s and festival weeks.  She may or may not own the bar, I honestly don’t know.  But it is sure as Chocopoo her cart.” Bondermir said as they stepped off the elevator.  As they did, a disheveled Miqo’te stumbled past nearly running into them.  “Business must be good for that.” Benjimir said as the Miqo’te took a long swig from a bottle in a paper bag.  “What a lush.” Bondermir remarked. As they passed the Quicksand bar, Benjimir paused for a moment.  Looking at the large doors, Benjimir turned to his brother.  “You heading to quarters?” he asked.

“Yes, an hour talking contract terms with the Twinkinrykers takes a lot out of you.  You thinking of getting a night cap? Bondermir asked curiously.  “An actual drink?”  He probed.  “Of, you know, liquor?” He ribbed.

Benjimir adjusted his glasses with his middle finger.  “People watching, maybe something to wash that down.  I’ll see you in the morning.” Benjimir told his brother.  Bondermir smirked, clapped his brother on the shoulder and said “Good luck in there.”  

As he approached the doors to the Quicksand they popped open. A Hyur exited with a auburn haired…..or furred, he was still unsure which term to use, Miqo'te woman draped on his side strolled out.  Both were oblivious to everything but themselves.  Benjimir side stepped them passed through the doors as they began to swing closed.  Pausing inside he surveyed the bar.

The Quicksand was like theater in the round.  The room was bordered by an elevated concourse along the outside edge of which was hosted the hotel and services desks, bar, and innumerable people perched along a marble railing.  The concourse sloped down to the level of a seating area in the middle.   

What Benjimir noticed first however was the smell.  Pungent.  Deeply perfumed from the assembled inebriating masses.  The masses were made up of a self mocking mix of extremes vying for one another's attention.  There was a rich variety in modes of dress.  Scantily clad females of several races, individuals and in groups. Entirely unsubtle males unconvincingly confidant clad in their leather or other machismo garb.  Benjimir instantly recognized the patterns of people watching and being watched, the mating rituals, and the scattering of those present for none of it.

He made  his way to the entry to the seating area, amused at the sights.  The Lalafell woman with her drink cart, painted and inscribed like a childs toy chest with “Super Momo’s Cart!” passed him as she returned for her evenings drink run.  Benjimir turned his mind to finding a place to sit.

Benjimir observed most of the other tables hosted more than one party.  A couple of people appeared to be alone or apart from the group they sat near.  He singled out a female of the Xaela race alone at a large round table, stirring a drink absent mindedly as she gazed around the room Benjimir approached and made a classic if dated gesture of touching his fingers to his chest, lips and forehead.

“May I trouble you to take one of these seat?” Benjimir asked.  The Xaela looked up at him impassively but finally offered a polite smile and made a sweeping gesture with the drink mixer.  

“They are free to be taken.”

Benjimir sat and looked around a moment.  “Is there table service here?” He asked.

“New here?” the Xaela said, ‘Usually you are better served going up to the bar, but wave at Momodi long enough, she’ll get you setup.”  she finished.

“The one with the cart, I see.” Benjimir replied turning around and looking for the Lalafell who was returned to her stool at the bar.  He began to wave but his attention was drawn back to the Xaela.  “So are ya?” the woman said.

“Oh, yes, I am.  Never been here before.” Benjimir said.  The Xaela allowed for a shallow smile, taking stock of her tablemate seriously now.

“Not a drinker either, are ya?” she asked rhetorically.  Benjimir considered for a moment the possibility that this truth might actually be written on his forehead.  “No actually.”  He offered.

“Yeah, drinkers here know to get a drink before sitting, otherwise you seat goes away.  You got a name mister sobriety?”  the woman said smirking a bit as she resumed stirring her drink with the mixing stick.  

Benjimir was unsure if he was entertainment to his tablemate or being preemptively setup to be shot down. The thought restored his focus as he realized the woman was a Xaela, few here in Ul’Dah and he knew very little of their race.  

“I apologize, I’m Benjimir Thursby.” He said.

“Orbei.” Benjimir’s tablemate replied mater of factly and continued on without pause.  “So where you from Benjimir originally, beyond ‘not here.  What brings ya here?” Orbei asked.

At the table next to Benjimir and Orbei sat an auburn hued Miqo’te woman.  Either from Orbei’s voice carrying or the momentary lull in chatter about the room she took notice of the conversation.

“Good to know you Orbei.  I’m new to these shores, not really from anywhere really, I was….” he paused a fraction of a second, “born at sea.”  Momodi passed and came to the table.  She took a drink order from Benjimir for what essentially was a mineral water with fruit punch mixed in, Orbei ordered “her usual.” 

“I am the chief of a trade and mercantile company.  Business brings me to Eorzea.  Curiosity to the Quicksand.  I feared I’d miss something if I didn’t come here at least once.” He said.

Orbei nodded.  “I see.  So tell me Benjimir,” she leaned forward, “do ya fear death?”  She said.  Benjimir paused but responded.  “Death is but a new lifes dawn.”  Orbei smiled and nodded approvingly.  

“Touche, very nice.  Usually that scares people, but they normally have a few drinks in them.  Not gonna pull that off with you I think.”  Orbei said, amused and pleased she was not in the company of another dreg seeking what she was not offering.  Benjimir, feeling the banter being on an even basis now took a discreet look over Orbei.  Black horns, dark blue skin.  She was a follower of the Dusk Mother, which was maybe as much as he knew with certainty.  They could be found only sparingly, along with the kindred race, the Raen.  The passenger manifests had shown him few were traveling by way of air or sail ship either with Maelstrom or the company fleet.

Orbei was quick to pounce on the minor pause and Benjimir’s look, more inquisitive than salacious she noted.  “I’ma Thaumaturge, we do stuff and things, worship Thal. They have Thaumaturges at sea?” she asked.

“Maybe by another name.  Do all of you people worship Thal?” Benjimir asked.  The red Miqo’te at the adjacent table perked her ears as he spoke.  Now she edged her chair about some to see the man she was eavesdropping on.  

“Oh, pity.  I study at the Arrzaneth Ossuary.  Everybody there honors Thal.  So you were born at sea, that make you a Hy-sea or something?”

“I don’t know really, just a man, of the race of men.  Your one of those Xaela, are all your people hued as you are?  I’ve not met one before.”  Benjimir said.

The Miqo’te’s ears twitched.

“Not a lot of us here so far.  I knew a few when I first came.  Some of us are this color, others not.  Lots of different people at the Ossuary though.”  Orbei answered and continued.  “Thal is the god of death and darkness. Ya didn’t really answer my question though, do ya fear it?”

“I don’t see reason to fear it.  Regret it maybe.  Every people have their myths and faiths about life, death, gods.  People are entitled to what they choose to believe.”  Benjimir said.  The Miqo’te rose from her seat and as she walked toward the table.  Orbei chuckled at her approach.  The female whipped the chair between Benjimir and Orbei around and saddle rode it she put her drink on the table.  With a stern glare she spoke to Benjimir.

“You people, those people, all you people.  What makes you ‘ayfaluten’ Hyur-at-sea-or-whatever types blow into Ul’Dah and start riding down anybody with a tale or whose under the table tall?”  the Miqo’te laid into Benjimir. Orbei suppressed a snicker.  

Benjimir smiled politely if with a slight of sarcasm and with slightly portion of it asked the Miqo’te, “I’m anything but rich, thank you, I have never met any of Orbei here’s race, or your own, whom I’m honoring by acknowledging as a people.  And whom in whatever your own people call hell are you by name to presume it is your affair?”  The nearby tables and people lounging on the concourse rails above discreetly took notice and gave ear to exchange.  

The Miqo’te was taken aback for a moment.  Orbei took the opportunity to introduce her friend.  “This is Smathlyn.  She’s a Miqo’te…...no horns.” she said and pointed to her own black horns.  

Benjimir nodded in acknowledgement.  Smanthlyn continued, if with a hair more restraint.  “We get enough Hyurs coming into Ul’Dah, all rich from cashing in on the calamity, taking over farms, selling stuffs and things for a months pay.  They come about here, treating Lalas, Miqo’te, all of us that aren’t all cute skinned and super-boobed like bad waiters.  Poke’n fun at our gods.”  She finished and took a sip of her drink.  Orbei leaned forward and spoke.

“Smathlyn’s sorta our mother hen here.  She doesn’t suffer fools in nice cloths.”  she said.  Orbei looked at Smathlyn “He wasn’t offending just asking.  And his cloths aren’t that nice.”  Smathlyn listened but continued to cast a skeptical eye on Benjimir.

Benjimir looked down at his clothes.  “Thanks.  And I’ve spent my life at sea and far from this place.  I wouldn’t know a Miqo’te from a Xaela until it was pointed out to me.  As for your god, I honor it.  Never get between a person and their faith, nothing good can come of it.  And I’ve my own spirituality. Orbei and I were just talking and she was being nice enough to teach me a thing or two.  Learning about other ways adds to my appreciation of my own”  Smathlyn looked over to Orbei who nodded and stared back at her friend.

“Well alright then.  If Orbei says so.  If you are wanting to learn something then you should visit the Ossuary, it is a place of peace and meditation.” Smathlyn said.  “You going tonight Orbei?” she asked her friend.

“Figuring’n too.  You want to come Benjimir the non-aflu’nt?” Orbei said and asked, turning to Benjimir.

“Ladies.  It would be my honor, pleasure and education.” Benjimir said.

*******

Authors note.  This was a fictionalized but inspired entry based on my very first night RP’ing in FFXIV, when Benjimir went to Quicksand, struck up a conversation and a bystander actually misstook what I said and launched into me.  For a month people there remembered the discussion.  It actually proved an amazing night of RP.  Names have been changed because, well, I can’t remember who it was.  But hey, good times.

[benjimirthursby]

Tessariel Aerlinn

https://www.BookOfThursby.com

*Portrayed with permission

[benjimirthursby]

“Night Lights and Sharp Objects.” [1.0] - The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor

“ Written details and instructions become as vague and uncertain as myths given enough time." - Ossimira Meigs, "Technospectives." 

The legendary weapons and crystals of the old forge masters continued to glow and sparkle for many years after the white ships left their home world.  To the dismay of all however the imbued qualities faded over time and for ages they remained stunning but static examples of craftwork seemingly beyond the people’s skill.  

Or at least it seemed.  

Many attempts were made to forge new weapons, often using gems and metals from lesser ancient examples.  The techniques were well documented and often practiced.  But to no avail.  New and ancient blade and gem sat dark.

The dark was how best Benjimir preferred to keep his quarters at night with his gaze and mind cast toward the stars ahead.  Of late the blue world and it's moons along the fleets course were foremost on his mind.  One pale and white, the other red and luminous.  As was customary the fleet was deep into study of the bodies orbiting the star ahead.  The fleets intended destination was directly past this system in the center of a constellation, at least from the perspective of their forefathers.  

There were many whose task it already was to determine plans to navigate the system, take advantage of the opportunity to obtain resources before the fleets journey continued.  This did not prevent Benjimir from pondering the same things for himself.  

It was a faint shimmer from his case of relics which drew his attention away from the starscape outside his porthole.  The Beacon of Andunie had awakened.

******* @crystal-rp-ffxiv​