Yenâto glanced around with a feeling akin to boredom as he waited to board the ship. The job sounded easy enough, and for some reason they had already paid up front. Of course... many jobs with Khan have âstarted out easyâ and ended in near death. I should not expect this one to be any different. A few other gullible fools, many who had been on previous jobs, had also signed up: Alyona, Rissa, Victor, Kouronne, Strega, Mako, and the... something-something Puma? Hmph, I can never remember her actual alias. But her healing is always invaluable, and unlike Strega it does not involve getting stabbed with magitek needle devices.
Boredom soon shifted to annoyance when some pedantic argument over what swimsuit they should be wearing came up. Somehow. Seriously?! We are going on a naval patrol, not a pleasure cruise! Yenâto felt he was the only one who came prepared, clad in heavy armor and a long trident. He found himself surprisingly relieved when Khan showed up to guide them to the docks, and now they could finally get the mission underway. I can not believe I am actually glad to see him.
Yenâto was well along the emotional rollercoaster at this point, since upon arriving at the ship the sudden relief quickly melted into dread. Oh gods... is that same one we wrecked back in the Shroud? It was indeed, with the holes patched up with what looked like rotting boards, rusty nails, and an overabundance of hope and wishful thinking. Some of the beastfolk crew waved at them from the ship. Yenâto just stared back blankly.
With little choice at this point, they all boarded the floating coffin and made themselves comfortable at various places along the deck; Khan took up the helm. I swear to the Twelve, he better be sober enough to steer this thing. If we fail because we hit some rocks in the middle of the ocean I am going to kill him. Khan called out various orders, and one by one the crew worked to get the ship ready before finally setting sail towards open water.Â
Now came the most difficult part of the mission - idle chatter. âOi, Benâto! Doesnât this *HIC* feel familiar to ye, lad?â slurred out a clearly drunk Khan.
Yenâto ignored the fact that Khan could never get his name right as he mulled over the question in earnest, âIt has been a while since I last served in the Maelstrom, and ironically they typically kept me mostly on land patrols.â He never thought that odd at the time, but looking back he wondered how many other recruits were rarely posted to ships. Were the Yellow Jackets not better suited for that kind of thing? ... Did I fail too many missions?
Waiting to reach their destination felt like an eternity, some sort of cosmic punishment for an unknown slight. Yenâto began wondering if they were actually lost. The fact that Khan was frequently checking the compass and charts was not as reassuring as it should have been. Khan protested that they knew exactly where they were but the targets were simply not there. He is likely too drunk to see straight, how can he know where we are going? Maybe someone else should have--
Yenâtoâs thoughts were abruptly cut short when three ships came advancing towards them from seemingly out of nowhere - two sloops and a larger galleon. They unexpectedly and suddenly found themselves the target of a pirate attack. A voice boomed out over their linkshells. It was one that Yenâto had not heard since many years ago, but he recognized the smarmy arrogance from anywhere:Â âOi, half-breed! How about ye give up now and save us all a bit of trouble!â
Yenâtoâs ears pricked up. Tahlia? Sister?! After all these years she finds me now? Yenâto called out at the top of his lungs, âI am not going to make this easy on you! Maybe you will finally work for once in your life!â He added after a pause, âIt has been formally and politely requested that you take your ships... and piss off!â The prompt reply from his dear sister was a barrage of cannon fire, causing Khan to order everyone to man the defenses and fire back as he began evasive maneuvers.
Despite having very little experience, they loaded the few cannons as best they could, utilizing magick to help light the fuses and direct their aim. Tahliaâs pirates flanked Khanâs smaller ship, but concentrated fire from his crew managed to break one of the sloopâs masts and stop it dead in its tracks. Despite their valiant efforts, the galleon managed the close the distance and launched grappling hooks to secure the ships together. Sahagin and pirates alike began swarming over onto the beleaguered ship. âI am going to enjoy beating the shite out of you, half-breed! Prepare to be boarded! That bounty is mineâ screamed out Tahliaâs voice over the linkshell again.
âYenâto, I swear to the gods - if I die Iâm going to kill you! Why do you even have a fookinâ bounty?! â cried out Khan as he readied his rapier.Â
Yenâto warned the others as he braced himself, âThis is going to be a hard fight... she is even more stubborn than I am.âÂ
The fighting was fierce and brutal, with blood soon soaking the decks and smoke from black powder discharges obscuring vision. Who is laughing about wearing heavy armor now?! thought Yenâto as he skewered a charging sahagin with his trident. Khanâs beastfolk were surprisingly competent in helping to fend off the pirates, but the sheer volume of enemies began overwhelming the defenders. Cries for help from below deck prompted them to retreat down below.
The hull had apparently been breached, and more pirates were already pouring in. A gnath with a samurai blade was holding his own. Where in the hells does Khan find these things? The group quickly mopped up the pirates surrounding the gnath. He bade them go down to the storage while he held off their pursuers, and off they headed to face down the pirate leader.
In the far corner of the hold was the cause of their current situation: Tahlia Tajaan - Yenâtoâs older half-sister. She and their brother Yenâa were sired by a different father, who died before Yenâto was born. His own father ran way from their mother once he realized she was pregnant and wanted nothing to do with responsibility. Tahlia ultimately blamed Yenâto for the desertion, and for almost every other hardship thrust upon them while growing up. She eventually ran away for the freedom of unsanctioned piracy, while Yenâto transitioned into the rigid structure of The Maelstrom. They had met only once after they went their separate ways, with Tahlia nearly being arrested from Yenâtoâs efforts but ultimately escaping.
Tahlia sneered at the group, unimpressed despite the relatively ease with which they had dispatched much of her crew. She took a swig out of a whiskey bottle before casually tossing it aside, shattering it against the floor. âYer getting real annoying, Yenâto! Get yer arse over here half-breed, going to finally take ye down a notch!âÂ
Yenâto defiantly replied, âNot half as annoying as you! Be careful what you wish for!â
Their squabbling was interrupted just as quickly as it began. The booms of explosions rocked the ship, sending them all scattering. From the look on Tahliaâs face, it was clearly not from her shipâs cannons. A voice screamed out over the linkshell, âImps are doing flybys, capân!â
Tahlia bellowed out in frustration as water started streaming into the hold âI swear to the navigator, if I die Iâm going to kill you Yenâto! How stupid do ye have to be to piss off the Imps!â That does not even make sense! Who says that?!
Yenâtoâs group and Tahlia exchanged wary looks, but the Garlean Empire was a common enemy, so they wordlessly agreed to set aside differences in the interest of escape. As Yenâto realized the ship was taking on far too much water, he began ripping off pieces of his armor as they ran for the top deck. If we survive this they are all going to be so smug at being right about the damn armor...
The explosions were growing more intense with each moment as additional Imperial airships made bombing runs across both Khanâs ship and pirates alike. By the Twelve, if I die I am killing Khan! Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light before the world turned black as Yenâto slipped into unconsciousness.Â
Yenâto frowned as he stared at the messy stack of papers on his desk. They contained various notes and information on all the messes that had cropped ever since the cursed day he ran into Khan and took that damned castrum scouting job. The previous few moons had seen no let up on the pressure against the Shroudrose staff by Garlean forces, sent directly by Tribunus Lucian or otherwise.
Kaiaâs Regret
It seemed like forever ago, when Yenâto and a small group set out with Kaia to rescue her family from anti-monk brigands known as the Corpse Brigade. They had set out towards a remote part of Gyr Abania, expecting relatively light resistance. With the help of Lethâs magitek devices, they soon bypassed the defenses and infiltrated the village.
Kaiaâs family had trained as monks and were formidable fighters, but the Corpse Brigade also had specialized training that countered much of the monksâ advantages. The clan had been defeated and was being held prisoner, but Kaia and the group were able to make fairly short work of the brigands, who did not expect to be fighting against heavy armor and weapons. Her brother was freed, who informed them that Kaiaâs mother was being held in a nearby cave.
There were many more brigands within the cave, and were all almost defeated until the leader took Kaiaâs mother hostage. Even in such a dire situation, her mother made time to berate Kaia for picking up the way of the bow instead of the way of the monk. Kaia attempted to argue back, that her way was just as strong, but unfortunately they were unable to save her before she was unceremoniously executed. However, they did manage to rescue many of the villagers alongside her brother who would become head of the clan.
Stregaâs Lament
Not long afterwards, the end of a tea service was rudely interrupted by a so-called hyper-tuned soldier - beings mechanically augmented by Garlean magitek and were more machine than person. He blamed Strega for what the Garleans had turned him into, and warned that his brethren would come to kill Strega messily and violently. They cursed her and her former Garlean allies for making them unable to feel anything but pain and despair. Strega and Alyona worked all night to come up with a convoluted scheme to piss off the conjurerâs guild so they would detain Strega within their walls.
Somehow the plan worked. The hyper-tuned set off a nearby distraction to draw off conjurers and Wood Wailers before turning their attention to Strega and the rest. It was a hard fought battle, but the hyper-tuned had spread themselves out in an effort to maintain the distraction and tried to attack Strega and the group one at a time. They were nearly overwhelmed when two engaged them together, but they somehow overcame the odds to overcome them all.
Strega had wished the hyper-tuned subdued rather than killed, with the aim of having the Conjurerâs Guild heal both their bodies and minds. In the end, one was inadvertently killed but the others were handed over in custody with the hopes that their pain and suffering would be eased, and that they could eventually recover. Only time would tell if that would be true.Â
Silfâs Hunt
It was an odd request, but no one really questioned it when a messenger came and informed them that Silf had invited them along for one her hunts. They headed out to the East Shroud, finding a very confused Silf who had no idea what was going on. It was then that the deranged Ala Mhigan hunters with bestial raceâs heads as helmets launched their ambush. The very same ones who nearly killed them when they were interrogating a Garlean prisoner so many moons ago. They were Tribunus Lucianâs figurative attack dogs, although he also had literal ones.
The hunters used the ponds and trees to their advantage and strike nearly unseen, but Silf knew the terrain even better. With her guidance, the group managed to avoid detection long enough after escaping to turn the tables and launch an ambush of their own. The hunters had assaulted a nearby camp of Wood Wailers in their search, and Silfâs band used the distraction to flank the hunters and attack.
One of the hunters remained, wearing a Hrothgar head as a helmet, amidst a pile of Wood Wailer bodies, and challenged the entire group to a duel while screaming about âthe wrath of the Hawkâs Talons.â The false Hrothgar proved to be a challenging adversary, surviving multiple wounds and retaliating with aero based attacks. In the end, Silf was able to finish him off through cunning - slitting his throat in a surprise maneuver.
Alyonaâs Past(s)
The strange pink haired miqoâte had an even stranger past. One night, the group was informed by Sergeant Baxter that a Garlean prisoner, named Octavius, demanded a dinner with Alyona and her friends before he would reveal his secrets to his Ala Mhigan captors. It felt like that meeting with the Maelstrom prisoner all over again, where everything quickly went horribly wrong. But they seemed to have little real choice, since the information promised by the Garlean would save lives and no other interrogation technique had gotten him to loosen his lips.
The dinner was bland, but the conversation was particularly enlightening. Octavius seemed to know Alyona better than she knew herself. He had revealed that she had been many things before: a teacher, an orphan, a drunkard, a ditz, and most importantly of all - an Ala Mhigan agent named Mockingbird. In the course of her work she nearly killed Octavius and rescued an indoctrinated Ala Mhigan named Ragnald. She was forced to leave Ragnald for dead after a later attack, and he was subsequently captured by the Empire for âre-educationâ.
Having gained all the information they needed, Sergeant Baxter led them to the war front near Ghimlyt Dark where they were expected to run into Ragnaldâs squad in the course of capturing a castrum for Alliance staging operations into Garlean territory. The battle was brutal and bloody, with many on both sides falling in the fray - including Sergeant Baxter. Ragnald was eventually found and recovered, Alyona having managed to bring back the memories of his past life. General Raubahn came in at the last moment with reinforcements and drove back the remaining Garleans, allowing the group to retreat and recover.
A Sign of Things to Come
(Text taken from a post by Khuron Khan, credit is not mine)
In a linkshell conversation that jogs Yenâto out of his reverie...Â
 "....Does this involve Allagans?"Â
 "No."
 "....Does this involve the Empire?"Â
 "...No?"Â
 "...Does this involve anything spooky or traumatizing?"Â
"By Gods, lad- this is a simple naval reconnaissance job. This is what yer 'Teahouse' does under'dae table, aye? We'll pay upfront, you are ju-"Â
 "WE'RE IN!"Â
Khan placed down the linkshell with a shit-eating grin, slouching back as he rested the back of his head against his hands. "Oi! Lu Bu! Let Faye know we have an easy job'fer once!" The tiny Kobold saluted before scampering away to the hallway. "Ah- why am I such a fookin' genius?"Â
 Somewhere in the seas...Â
"Plonker took'dae job, Cap!" the Pirate barked out, nodding to her Captain. The Moonkeeper bit down her apple, crunching it down as she stacked her legs on top of the table, leaning back with a satisfied grin.Â
 "Did they now? Aye- get the other crews ready and in position..." The Keeper stared down the horizon of the sea- gazing at the skyline of Limsa Lominsa. "And prepare the gaols- it's been sometime since I've met the half-breed; mayhap we should make the reunion at least comforting. Eh- a pillow, blanket, and a bucket should be fine until we can deliver him to'dae client" the Keeper's grin widened as her underling did a quick salute before running off to the corridors.Â
 "Yenâto, Yenâto..." the Keeper stretched with a sigh before prepping her ammunitions for her flintlock. "Who the hell did you piss off to make me this rich?"
Baking was not exactly something that Yenâto counted among his skills, but he felt a little obligated to get into the Starlight spirit and this seemed as good a chance as any. Khan had posted a message saying he was hosting a baking class and that the resulting cookies would be given to some needy orphans. Not sure why he is hosting this, but whatever. At least it will not involve getting shot at by Garleans... I hope.
Yenâto and Fehri arrived nearly simultaneously to the Shroudrose lobby, just in time to witness Khan throwing up into one of the planters. Oh gods... well, we are certainly off to a wonderful start. Kaia at least made her way inside late enough to miss the overly warm greeting, followed immediately by Kiari. Without further ado, Khan led them all to the kitchen to begin the lesson.
Khan pulled out a stack of papers that looked like they had all been licked by a goobbue, moist and barely held together. He declared that it was some sort of goblin recipe. Yenâto idly wondered if it was written by Cloudthoughts, the skipper of Khanâs boat who was also present, for some reason. Khan fumbled about the kitchen cabinets, pulling out some supplies for everyone as he read aloud the initial ingredients. Yellow goop? White and brown... poop? Is that supposed to be butter and sugars?
With their supplies all laid out on the counter, it was time to get to work. Which apparently meant punching the butter into submission with oneâs bare fist, if Khan was anything to go by. He followed by pouring in heaps of brown and white sugar without even bothering to measure them. The savage - there are plenty of tools to use! Even if I do not know what half of them are, myself. Yenâto leaned over to glance towards Fehriâs side of the counter, and decided to do his best to copy her since she happened to own an actual bakery. At least someone here is competent, hmph.
Moving on to the next step, Yenâto and the others watched with growing horror as Khan began dumping eggs into his bowl - shells and all. He claimed that they added crunch, but Fehri was having none of that nonsense and scolded him, ordering him to remove the shell bits. Clearly, this âclassâ is being led by the wrong person. I guess I should be glad he has not tried slipping in fogweed... yet. Yenâto soon began regretting not working next to Fehri, like Kaia was smart enough to do. His and Kiariâs batter were looking a bit on the sad side, but still were in better shape than Khanâs clumpy monstrosity.
Finally, it was time to dole out the batter onto sheets to bake in the oven. Even though the kitchen had a perfectly functional stove, Khan strove to stick to the recipe and had Cloudthoughts bring in a different, more specialized one one. Everyone stopped and stared with a mixture of fascination and disbelief as the goblin brought in a rather animated Bomb in a cage, with a solid piece of metal in top to function as a cooking surface. Is that... a bomb?! I thought those explode when they get too hot! Lady Faye is going to kill us if that explodes and we manage to survive!
Despite the objections from everyone else, Khan insisted on baking his cookies on the bomb stovetop. Yenâto and Kaia opted to give their batter to Fehri to use with the non-exploding oven.; except Kiari, who simply stared at her cookie dough chocolate soup in wonderment. Without warning, Cloudthoughts began insulting the bomb to get it to heat up. All eyes turned to watch as it starting growing rather large and hot; it slowly dawned on them that it was getting a little too hot. Leth and Alyona arrived just in time to observe the unfolding disaster with more than a little bemusement. If I die here, I am killing Khan! ... although the bomb will do that well enough, actually.
Khan promptly advised that they needed to compliment it to get it to cool off. The initial attempts were nearly foiled by Yenâtoâs accidental insults, but Kiari managed to get it back down to size by... asking it on a date? Khanâs cookies were burnt to a crisp, but in the meantime Fehri had been dutifully finishing up the other batches. Those looked and smelled like something someone could actually eat. The group made some small talk as Khan went to fetch some chocobos, and before long were off with baskets of cookies to dole out to some lucky(?) orphans.
The trip was much longer than expected, since the orphans that Khan referred to resided in the refugee camp just outside Ulâdah. Gods it is so hot... this is what I get for wearing my Starlight coat. Khan seemed quite familiar with the refugees, and led the group over to several clumpings of ragtag-looking Ala Mhigans. They split up to dole out the cookies amongst the refugees, rapidly earning the attention of a bunch of children. Soon, even adults were crowding around for their share of cookies, a few of which looked like they hadnât eaten in days. I must admit... it does feel good to be making so many people happy. They probably have not had any such generosity from the Ulâdan citizens.
The giving and mingling was rudely interrupted by an incoming barrage of sandballs. Khanâs group scattered for cover, with varying degrees of success, as a gang of children declared war on them. Yenâto usually disliked children, but perhaps because of the holiday mood he instead took up arms to begin hurling back sandballs of his own instead of angrily berating them. Most of the others followed suit, although there was a brief pause while everyone watched with concern as Fehriâs mammet tased one of the kids with a jolt of electricity. Kiariâs eyes were also glowing dangerously red, but Khan quickly de-escalated the situation by clarifying it was all a game. Even I knew that much!
The pretend war raged on for quite some time, with volleys of sandballs flying back and forth. However, it ended as suddenly as it began when a curmudgeonly old woman emerged from a tent brandishing a sandal in one hand, demanding to know what in the hells was going on. The kids promptly scattered like dust in the wind. Well, that is the end of that. Hm... that was actually kind of fun. Not that I will admit that out loud.
Yenâto glanced around the camp, and the pleasant chatter and happy expressions seemed to indicate that they had done their job well. Khan may be a drunken idiot, but I guess he is not -all- bad. Hard to know if he does something right on purpose or by accident, though. This mission may not have ended with any extra pay, but Yenâto considered the rewards worth it all the same.
Then he paused, and glanced down at his sand covered clothes. ... It is going to take a least three baths to get all this sand off, damn it.
Yenâto hissed in pain as the chiurgeon probed the arrow wound acquired during the anti-saboteur operation. Strega had broken off the end of the shaft, but the half with the head was still firmly embedded in his leg. Apparently it was stopped by his bone. Gods I hate sacrificing armor for mobility, it always backfires.
Yenâto tensed and gritted his teeth as the so-called healer inserted the tip of a knife into the wound, wriggling it around to make the task of pulling the arrow out a bit easier and less damaging overall. Yenâto was used to pain after years of mercenary work - he used it to fuel his resolve and fight ever harder. Here, however, there was no enemy to fight against.
A sharp yelp shook the room as the arrow was unceremoniously yanked out, and the blood soaked broad-bladed tip was then held in front of Yenâtoâs face. âA souvenir to remember?â the chiurgeon sarcastically queried. Yenâto glared, then rolled his eyes and shook his head, âNo, that is what scars are for.â The other man shrugged and tossed the arrowhead into a waste bucket.
Yenâto clenched his teeth as the chiurgeon then went to work in sewing up the wound. Yenâto could have gone to the conjurerâs guild and had magick do most of the work, but the frequency with which he had visited them recently was frankly embarrassing. They practically had a cot set aside just for him. He also did not want to get stabbed by one of Stregaâs magitek healing gadgets again.
Damn Khan and his missions. Why do I keep signing up again? Oh right... the extra gil.
An envelope is placed on Faye Covingtonâs desk, signed by Yenâto and containing a document within. There are various words and phrases crossed out and re-written.
Lady Faye Covington,
I am writing this report of recent events since it seems no one else bothers with such things around here will. Strega, Alyona, Lalatua, Kouronne, and an unfamiliar miqoâte named Naoko were all idling in the lobby when Sergeant Baxter arrived and let himself in. He announced that one of the Garleans from our previous encounters was being held prisoner and was being kept in a secret location ready for interrogation. Somewhat regrettably, Sergeant Baxter made it clear that the Alliance would still need the prisoner alive after we are finished with him. But not unharmed. We were then escorted most of the way by airship to an island off Costa Del Sol, then trekked the remaining distance by foot through jungle.
The building was guarded by a small squad who would remain outside to keep watch. We made our way inside into a dimly lit room, likely so to keep the prisoner from being too aware of comings and goings. A sort of mirror allowed us to view the prisoner in his cell without him being able to see us back. Sergeant Baxter then provided linkpearls so we could communicate regardless of who was in the cell with the prisoner. We discussed amongst ourselves for a brief time until deciding to use the figurative kraken root rather than the stick, at least to start with. At the suggestion of Strega we sent her in to begin discussions interrogation. We thought it safe enough that she would not need a guard, and we did not want to spook the prisoner by throwing so many unknowns at him.
The first attempt went about as well as one would expect from a Garlean. He was maniacal, so assured of his superiority that there was nothing a savage could offer him that could compare to Garlemaldâs riches and might. We did at least discover his name was Marcu, likely a nickname of Marcus. That is, unfortunately, all we really managed to learn before Strega attempted speaking in his own language and raised his ire warranted suspicion.
It was at this point that ideas were thrown around with about as much care as rocks in a quarry. Insults started being hurled some tempers were starting to get frayed by this point, and Lalatuaâs patience was becoming rather short wearing thin. She left soon after we settled on a plan. A shame, since she had some of the best thoughts on the matter. At any rate, one of the more promising ideas was to forge a document stating that Marcuâs masters had left him to rot and abandoned him. Lalatuaâs plan was to try to get his ego stroked so he would be more likely to talk at length. We opted for the forgery as a plan B, and sent Strega back in to proceed with Lalatuaâs idea. In the meantime, Alyona and Kouronne worked on the forged document, but I use the term work loosely.
Lalatuaâs idea appeared to be working, and we managed to get much more information on the second attempt. The soldiers under tribunus Lucian are running an experiment and were none too pleased that we had set it back by destroying the main testing ground, along with a castrum. The Garleans are confounded by the ability of Eorzea to put forth warriors of extraordinary strength, who manage to consistently beat back their magitek enhanced legions. They wanted to discover the source of this strength, to understand it and either harness it or nullify its advantage.
While Strega was questioning the prisoner, an uninvited guest managed to sneak past the guards - a female with hyur features. It was my fault for not being more attentive. I should have had Naoko watch the door. The stranger expressed familiarity with us, and extended an offer of assistance. There was something familiar about her, but I could not quite place it. We were wary of this surprise offer, and were still trying to figure how much trust we could extend when she slipped into the prisonerâs cell while Strega was exiting. She immediately began speaking in Marcuâs native tongue, much to my regret since I have no understanding of it. Strega could understand it, at least, but gave a not-so-reassuring statement that she could not determine if this stranger was a spy or actually being helpful.
It was at this time that some of us heard voices from outside, apparently the soldiers talking amongst themselves about investigating a nearby disturbance. I paid it little mind, but Alyona left to go check it out with them. Meanwhile, Strega was making notes on the conversation overheard on the linkpearl between the prisoner and the strange woman. It seems that the prisoner is a medicus, not a scientist. Also, tribunus Lucian moves from castrum to castrum, staying in one place just long enough to continue his experiments and satisfy his urges to hunt. Based on past experiences, that could only mean adventurers or any hapless villagers unfortunate enough to be within range.
It was at this point, that everything went to shite wrong. The strange woman had just begun revealing who she was when we heard shouting and gunfire from outside, and hustled to see what was the matter. Sergeant Baxter and a few other soldiers were fleeing from the jungle, yelling about a strange monster that was stalking them. Behind them, I could make out some hyur-like figure that was wearing a Hrothgar mask. Yet it was not a mask at all, but an actual Hrothgar head, removed from the body it was once attached to. The thing creature monster moved with unnatural speed and ferocity, cutting down some of the soldiers before they could react.
We set up a defensive position just outside the buildingâs entrance. I confirmed with Strega over the linkpearl that we still needed the prisoner alive, and she set to work in freeing his restraints to bring with us. I am not sure on the exact details, but Marcu was somehow being tracked. Between the blubbering and screaming, I can only guess that it was some sort of device that Strega had to cut out. He also seemed to know what the monsters were and grew ever more frantic, his pathetic cries coming in clearly over the linkpearl. Sergeant Baxter reassured us that he had called for reinforcements, but our enemy also had more reinforcements arriving by every moment we delayed. Each had some sort of ghastly head from bestial races such as lupin and vath set upon their shoulders.
Just when I thought we would soon be overwhelmed, Strega ran out with the prisoner and we made haste to the nearby bridge upon Sergeant Baxterâs urging. A hail of arrows from the hunters threatened to cut us down as we ran for cover. Most of us were unscathed, but Naoko took a hit to the leg. We turned to make a stand, and managed to fight off the first wave of monsters, but more injuries were incurred. I foolishly assumed we had gained the upper hand but was proven wrong when some giant lizard with one of those monsters as its rider came barreling towards our group from the tree line.
Most of the others were knocked off the bridge into the shallow river below. Strega was caught in its jaws. The strange woman and I managed to hold our own long enough against the beast and its rider for the others to make their way back to us. Combining our might we managed to fell both beast and rider, and the other monsters fled back into the jungle upon its defeat and timely arrival of Maelstrom reinforcements.
The victory was not without cost. Strega, Naoko, and the strange woman were seriously injured; Alyona and Kouronne to a lesser extent. The Maelstrom chiurgeons tended to them, so they will be fine, but will take some time to be back up to fighting strength.Â
The prisoner will be remaining with the Maelstrom but can be accessed at our discretion if need be. However, I seriously doubt we will glean any more useful information out of him and that he has truly given up as much as he knows. I suspect he only has knowledge of the big picture, since at no time did he mention the dossiers we discovered at the Garlean safehouse or any specific plans for the Shroudrose. I am more than willing to attempt to beat it out of him question him further if need be.
The last thing I want to inform you of is the nature of the strange woman. I knew she sounded familiar, and her knowledge of us seemed to prove my suspicions. I thought I had observed her coming and going from the Shroudrose back rooms. That annoying miqoâte brat Luka is actually a annoying hyur brat, and had been using some sort of disguise. Luka is not even her real name, although she provided nothing else to call her.
For what reason she did this I do not know, since she was too injured for me to fully question. I am inclined to believe her loyalty lies with you, but her knowledge of Garlemald and her deception makes it difficult to fully trust her. However, she did risk her life to fight with us, nearly getting killed in the process. She was also instrumental in getting Marcu to fully open up about the Garleansâ plans. My suggestion is to keep the little fool her close as a potential asset.Â
Yenâto briefly grimaced as he tightened the straps on his sabatons. The arrow wound still bothered him a little, but now he had little choice now but to grin and bear it. This was the day: engaging in âdiplomaticâ talks with a Garlean envoy to allegedly cease hostilities between their groups. More like try and get us to beg for our lives as they tout the supremacy of âcivilizedâ Imperial rule. Once he left his chambers, he noticed that Lady Faye and Strega were already waiting in the lobby. Others trickled in soon after: Luka, Lalatua, Deccan, Silf, and even Val Covington. Is... is this it? Gods I hope it is enough in case something goes wrong. This all but screams âtrapâ. At least everyone seemed prepared, although Yenâto wondered exactly how useful Stregaâs parasol would be against anything but rain or sunlight. As they wondered amongst themselves about what to expect, a Maelstrom officer knocked on the doors and then let himself in.
The hyur announced himself as Sergeant Baxter, and declared that he would be their escort to the neutral zone for negotiations. Everyone seemed a bit suspicious, especially after that mess with the false Wood Wailers that turned out to be Garleans in disguise. However, they had little choice and he seemed genuine enough. They were to be escorted to a location near Gyr Abania, with Grand Alliance cannons and troops on one side and Garleans on the other. It was set up specifically for negotiations related to hostages and prisoner exchange, since there was no other real way to communicate or otherwise deal with the Empire that didnât involve getting shot at.
Thus briefed, they were escorted most of the way by airship and then completed the last part of the trek by foot. Sergeant Baxter must be genuine... there are indeed a number of Alliance cannons and troops oriented towards the Garlean side... and vice versa. Maybe we might get out of this alive, if we can keep our tempers in check. Lady Faye Covington made clear beforehand that she would be the one to do the talking, and Yenâto prayed that at the least hotheaded Luka and sarcastic Lulutua would be able to abide by the order.
They entered a small, rather plain looking building. Inside was a simple room, with a cermet metal door on the other side and several desks in the middle. The Eorzean side had plenty of chairs, but the Garlean side had only one. Hmph. Are the Garleans trying to imply something about negotiations? Silf, Lalatua, and Strega sat on the edges of the room, while Lady Faye sat in the middle; Yenâto and Val protectively stood at her sides and Luka and Deccan lurked by the walls, keeping their heads down.
They did not have to wait long until the tense silence was interrupted by a loud, pompous announcement that the illustrious Caelus Eir Marsallas had arrived. He was the one that sent the letter setting up this meeting. I wonder if he is as crazed as tribunus Lucian. If not crazed, he was at least as vain, arriving in polished armor with a golden mask bearing the visage of Solus zos Galvus. He practically oozed arrogance and superiority.
Marsallas began by stating that the all-powerful and civilized Garlean Empire thanked the Blue Viperâs bastard for agreeing to the meeting, and that their demands would be simple. His letter and Lucianâs dossiers also mentioned the Blue Viperâs bastard... how does Lady Faye fit into this, exactly? What does that even mean? In the interest of feigned politeness, Marsallas inquired as to everyoneâs name. In response, he was met with silence, or in Yenâtoâs case, a sarcastic comment to the effect that Marsallas should already know.
The discussion that followed was roughly what Yenâto had expected. Forced pleasantries intermixed with icy barbs from Lady Faye and grand boasting and not-so-veiled threats by Marasalls. She is not even giving him the respect of using his full title. Let us see how he likes being talked down to. In exchange for giving up the employees involved in destroying one of their castrums, everyone else would get to live. Naturally, this was dismissed as nonsense by the Eorzean side of the room.
Tempers began flaring for some of the participants as the talks dragged on without progress. Marsallas claimed that everyone who did not submit would be destroyed. Lady Faye coolly replied that she had killed one legatus already, and could do it again. Deccan lost his mind and burst into a maniacal fit of laughter, uttering some sarcastic nonsense about Garlemaldâs vaunted greatness. Gods damn it -- is he going to lose it again like he did on the first mission? Why do we bring him on these, again? Decorum further broke down as others like Silf and Lalatua began speaking their mind. Strega kept mumbling repeatedly about the word âwhomstâ the Garlean used in one of his grandiose speeches. ... Seriously?!
Finally, Luka stopped her simmering in the back of the room and exploded. She strode up to the table and began jabbering to Marasallas in what sounded like the Garlean language. Yenâto could make none of it out since he was unfamiliar with it, but he needed no translator for the response. Marasallas shot up in a rage, thrusting a finger towards Luka and declaring that no quarter would be given to traitors and those that harbor them.
The ruckus caused soldiers on both sides to pour into the room, brandishing their weapons at each other and demanding everyone stand down. Damn it... if I die here, I am killing Khan! Eventually, Marasallas collected himself and warned that the Shroudrose, its employees, and all their relatives and friends would be destroyed. With that, the meeting was effectively ended.
Damn that miqoâte brat - what stunt was she trying to pull off? She directly disobeyed Lady Fayeâs directive to not negotiate! With the lines now drawn in the sand, it was time to prepare for further escalation. All of other employees, whether they wanted to be involved or not, were now in danger. This meeting has left me with more questions than answers. How involved was Lady Faye with Garlemald? What about Luka and Deccan? I doubt I will get any answers, though, even should I ask...
Yenâto had wanted more excitement in his work, but this was getting to be more than he bargained for. He wondered idly if it would be bad timing to finally ask for that pay raise.
Yenâto wandered up to the library with a sense of foreboding. The reason for the meeting was unclear, but with Khan anything was possible. As he entered the library proper, he spied Strega and Khan already present. Damn... thought I would have some moments of peace to prepare for the drunken rambling that is sure to ensue. They engaged in a bit of small talk as they waited, much to Yenâtoâs annoyance, but it was not long before the others who saw the posting started filtering in. Annoyance shifted rapidly to surprise at the steadily increasing number of attendees: Alyona, Alaric, Kouronne, Silf, Luka, Ghost, Lalatua, and Ramius. A mixture of new and old employees.... but Alaric does not even work for Lady Faye, does he? How did Khan rope him in?Â
The lingering questions were soon cleared up - Ramius indicated that he was the one that called the meeting rather than Khan. Oh good... maybe this time the briefing will actually be coherent. A strange screen popped out of a device on Ramiusâ back, some sort of video feed from one of his drones that apparently captured sight of a suspicious person frequently loitering in the hills around the Shroudrose. Ramius wanted everyone to go out and attempt to find, capture, and interrogate the suspicious target. There were transmissions that potentially linked him to Garleans. I would say this sounds easy enough, but every time I have said that the complete opposite was true. Nothing involving Khan is every that simple.
As they began leaving the Shroudrose grounds, it was not long before Ramius spotted someone suspicious on a path up a nearby hill, leaning against a tree. At his suggestion, they split up to approach from different directions and hopefully catch the person in a pincer. Yenâto took about half of the group while Ramius took the remainder, and upon his signal they approached a visibly panicking miqoâte. He could not be more suspicious even if he was trying...
The unlucky miqoâte was sweating and fidgety, and cracked under pressure almost immediately. As he was not so gently prodded for answers, some in the group began remarking that they smelled smoke. That is odd... did something spark out in the forest? It is not storming, though. The sounds of bells clanging and shouts from Wood Wailers began filtering in from the south, where smoke was streaming into the sky. What in the... that looks like houses are on fire! Before anyone could figure out exactly what was happening, the twang of bows being drawn nearby forced everyone to take cover. Arrows loosed found their target easily - the poor panicking miqoâte spy. Strega and Alyona attempted to keep him alive while Yenâto and Kouronne returned fire with their gun and bow. Their targets were dressed like Wood Wailers, complete with wooden masks. Oh no... saboteurs?!
The two saboteurs went down quickly, a bit too dead to question. Ramius began picking up strands of chatter from the wounded spyâs linkshell, prompting him to scan for aether currents with his goggles. I swear, that man has a gadget for every occasion. The linkshell chatter made it clear that they were dealing with Garlean infiltrators. Yenâto barely had time to absorb this information before Ramius pointed them north. The band cautiously made their way forward before pausing at a bend in the path.
Half a dozen arrows whizzed by, forcing everyone to press up against the hill just before the bend in the path. Yenâto, Ramius, and Kourunne ran out to fire back at the archers, easily cutting the ambush short. Or so they thought. A shout came from the bushes nearby to âcut down the savagesâ, and more âwood wailersâ leapt out, flanking the party and trapping them in the middle of the path - lancers in the rear and more archers in the front. Damn it -- with the actual guards distracted by those fires we are on our own!
The fighting was brief but brutal. Yenâto yelped as an arrow embedded itself into his leg above the knee, avoiding the armored greaves he hoped would have protected him. Buckling down, he managed to level his rifle and return fire, felling his attacker. Most of the others managed far better, and the Garleans soon came to realize that underestimating tea house employees was a surprisingly bad idea. Lalatua used both fire and ice magic to great and terrifying effect, while Luka ended up burning and melting one of the wooden masks into a hapless soldierâs face.Â
The other Garleans fell one by one, but they managed to also injure Alyona before being defeated. Most of the ambushers were dead, but a few laid wounded and moaning. As with the spy, Alyona called Khan over the linkshell to gather the wounded Garleans. Hmph, I say let them bleed out... but the dead do not give up secrets. Once again, Ramius utilized his goggles to pick up the trail and the group rushed in the direction of the ferry docks. Or all but Yenâto rushed, who could only do a hurried limp at this point.
As they approached the docks, they could see the Garleansâ sloop shrinking in the distance as it sped away. There was only one remaining boat at the docks, with a goblin skipper drinking away the day nearby. He seemed wary at first of the anxious group, but a bag full of gil changed his tune. He promptly called over his own linkpearl to Khan that he was taking a break and that Khan could go fook himself. Oh gods -- this is Khanâs ship?!
The little sloop had seen better days, and seemed to be held together by little more than rusty nails, rotting boards, and pure hope. ... Do I also smell liqour? It had a black flag emblazoned with red glasses, reminiscent of the pair worn by Khan. A kobold on deck gave them a happy little wave and nonchalantly returned to swabbing the deck. This... both makes complete sense and is utterly stupid. At the urging of Lalauta and Strega, Yenâto sat down to take the weight of his injured leg. Strega once again took the opportunity to stab him with a magitek medical device, despite their previous discussion about advance warnings. At the direction of Ramius, the others grabbed what they could to use as oars and employed aero magic in an attempt to catch up with their targets.
âTheirâ ship came within a few dozen yalms of the Garleans before a shout came from behind some rocks in the river, and another boat slipped out and sped in their direction. Seven hells, how many ambushes are we going to stumble into?! The party braced for impact, and the two boats soon collided and locked into place. Belting out war cries, the Garlean boarding party swarmed onto Khanâs floating coffin.
Yenâto had managed to stand by this point, and upon seeing a saber swinging his way he managed to block it with his armored gauntlet, then returned the favor by slamming the butt of his rifle into the manâs head like a club. Alaric had ripped off one of the boards from the deck to use as a makeshift weapon; a vhan below deck looked up through the hole and simply returned to whatever it was doing. Uh... I hope that bit was not important. Ramius finished off the remaining Garleans with his quick-firing pistol, and managed to free the boats by cutting entangled ropes.Â
Upon arriving at shore, they were met with a scene of carnage. Dockworkers and a few Wood Wailers were crumbled on the ground, seriously wounded but not yet dead. A jumble of tracks led deeper into the woods. Alyona once again used the linkshell to inform Khan that there were wounded that needed tending, but his response was a complaint that it would take a while because someone had stolen his boat. ... Oops? Well, that is what he gets for being sloppy! One of the injured workers confirmed where the Garleans fled, and the group was soon hot on their heels.
The party caught up to the remaining Garleans soon enough, who were busy at work doing something near a patch of trees. They did not have long to observe the enemy before being spotted, and a Garlean officer called for his troops to form up. They did so with alarming speed and precision, and soon let loose a fusillade of bullets from their gunblades. Thankfully, their aim was not as precise as their formation but a few in Ramiusâ group were still hit. Damn it... if I die here I am killing Khan!
The gloves were off now, and no mercy was to be given. Yenâto finally activated his machinist aetherotransformer and spewed a gout of flame from the end of his rifle towards an unfortunate clump of Garleans. The others did not hold back either, letting loose with their fiercest techniques to utterly obliterate their targets in a storm of explosions and fire. I almost feel sorry for the bastards.... almost. As the smoke cleared, it was made apparent what the Garleans had been concerned with - a secret door leading underground.Â
Cautiously, the group made their way into the underground store room. It was unlit and barely any light made its way inside. Yenâtoâs moon-keeper eyes quickly adjsuted to the darkness, but few of the others were so lucky. Lalatua used some aether to light up her staff, and what it revealed gave everyone pause.
There were numerous desks and cabinets filled with papers, and posters and flyers covered the walls alongside maps. Almost in a stupor, they fanned out to dig through the papers to figure out exactly what they were dealing with. It was worse than suspected. On the largest desk, there was a stack of flyers with names and brief descriptions, many from previous missions with Khan:
By the Twelve.... these are signed by tribunus Lucian. He knows so much! How?! Aside from Lucianâs signature, there were directives commenting on multiple phases and local assets. Some of the other posters had vaguely familiar sketches, but were lacking descriptions. Sensing time was of the essence, everyone gathered whatever they could carry and made haste back to the Shroudrose to disseminate the information later and lick their wounds.
All this from one little information gathering mission that went sideways almost a moon ago. If the Garleans do not kill us, Lady Faye just might.
Character Development âHard Modeâ Meme: send a number & character to my ask box  and Iâll write an answer/headcanon in reply.
Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?
What is/was your characterâs relationship with their mother like?
What is/was your characterâs relationship with their father like?
Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?
On an average day, what can be found in your characterâs pockets?
Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?
Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?
Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?
Is your characterâs current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?
Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?
In what situation was your character the most afraid theyâve ever been?
In what situation was your character the most calm theyâve ever been?
Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?
Does your character remember names or faces easier?
Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?
Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?
What was your characterâs favorite toy as a child?
Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?
What is your characterâs biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?
In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?
If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?
What does your character like in other people?
What does your character dislike in other people?
How quick is your character to trust someone else?
How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?
How does your character behave around children?
How does your character normally deal with confrontation?
How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?
What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?
What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?
Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.
Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.
In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?
Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didnât work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?
How does your character behave around people they like?
How does your character behave around people they dislike?
Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?
Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?
Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?
How does your character treat people in service jobs?
Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?
Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?
Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?
How easy or difficult is it for your character to say âI love you?â Can they say it without meaning it?
What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?
Much to Yenâtoâs chagrin, Khan was already present in tea house library, reeking of alcohol as usual, and talking with Alyona. He had hoped to have a few moments of quiet before the mission started. But... I am never that lucky, am I? He struggled to keep up between Khanâs boisterous blubbering and Alyâs rambling stream of thought. Temporary relief came with the arrival of Strega, followed shortly by Ramius. Hm... almost everyone from the first mission. I guess we are all gluttons for punishment. Without further ado, Khan slurred on with the briefing. I swear, he would die if he went longer than a bell without liqour.
A string of disappearances had begun over a sennight ago, across multiple places around Eorzea. It began with the odd farmer, begger, and street rat. However, more recently adventurers also started going missing; some while looking into the mystery yet others were simply random. The Alliance of Free Companies was stretched thin and could not spare enough effort for the investigation, and so had put out a request for adventurers discover the cause so they can then send in soldiers as needed. A bit grander than I expected, but beats trying to pretend to be a prisoner. This should be rather straightforward. The only clue was that some recent disappearances had all occurred at a remote village in the middle of nowhere - specifically a chapel where adventurers had stopped for rest. With missing person poster bills in hand, the small band headed off.
Upon arriving at the village, Yenâto noted that it was even more destitute than expected. Some building were still in ruin from the Calamity, and recovery efforts looked haphazard at best. As they wandered through the streets, most of the residents averted their gaze. The party did, however, manage to get the attention of a rambunctiously playing child. Her mother came up shortly after, a bit of bluffing from Ramius managed to squeeze out enough information that confirmed the church should be their next destination. Gods, by her demeanor one would think talking to us was almost a death sentence. Do they not expect us to stay long?
One of the nuns outside stopped the group as they approached, cautiously asking what they needed. Apparently for Strega, she needed to use the little ladies room. Seriously? That is what is important right now?! Ramius quickly course corrected, finally getting the nun to direct them inside to talk with the bishop (alongside other relief). After casually making their way inside the small church, the group let Yenâto take the lead this time while Ramius and Strega watched the door. What makes them think I am good at bluffing? My lying performance at the Castrum job was horrible! Well... canât back out now without looking suspicious. Strega reiterated the point about needing the little ladies room.
The bishop was much less hesitant than the other townsfolk. But his words were tinged with sadness, regret, and... something else. The tone was setting Yenâtoâs nerves on edge. His anxiety quickly spiked when the bishop talked of visitors in black and red uniforms delivered supplies. Wait... black and red? Arenât those Garlâ? Yenâtoâs thoughts were cut short when the bishop slipped on gas filtering mask and pulled a nearby lever. He barely managed to take a few steps before collapsing to the floor in a deep stupor. Going... to.... kill... Khan...
With a start, Yenâto found himself awakened in a place that looked somewhat like the Shroud, but felt... off. The others were all there too, no worse for wear - even Stregaâs bladder. Strangely for being captured, they all had their armor and equipment, and were not shackled. Grunting as he clambered noisily to his feet, Yenâto was eventually able to get a better look around. The ground was covered in spotty grass, and the trees were sparse. Wait... this is not really the Shroud. Where in the hells are we? As Yenâto looked up to the sky, instead he saw a cermet ceiling. As if in answer to his question, a voice blared over a loudspeaker. A chillingly familiar voice.
By the Twelve - is that Tribunus Lucian? From the Castrum we blew up nearly with him in it?! Aly, Strega, Yenâto, and Ramius all exchanged looks with each other, recognition occurring nearly simultaneously. Lucian claimed that the current batch of participants was poor sport, and they needed to do better or he would attend to the combat himself. Combat? What combat? The group barely had time to collect their thoughts before the answer became clear, and were under assault by a hail of arrows.
After running for the nearest cover, a voice in the distance rang out, âYou lot need to hurry up and die, or we wonât get to go home!â Ramius called out to them to stand down. The men claimed to be from Ala Mhigo, and that they were all trapped here unless they killed enough others. Mad with desperation, the archer would have none of it, and ordered everyone to attack.
Ramius was the quickest to respond, shooting the archer clean through the head with his machinist rifle. Yenâto readily subdued the swordsman, knocking the manâs shield aside with his giant axe before following up with a nonfatal blow to the head that knocked him unconscious. Aly had it worst, taking a spear to her shoulder as she desperately tried talking her opponent into surrendering. Strega somehow simply convinced her opponent into giving up, and the lancer followed suit and stepped back away from Aly after seeing his allies defeated. How does she do that every time? At least only one of them was killed... none of us wanted to be fighting Ala Mhigans in a Garlean facility.
A back and forth exchange followed the cease fire, with the Ala Mhigans claiming that escape without following the rules was impossible. They had even tried teaming up with others before, but it all ended with backstabbing and betrayal as everyone eventually splintered off to fend for themselves. They almost seemed ready to join Yenâtoâs not-so-merry band before a burst of magitek armor gunfire came from behind and blasted the remaining Ala Mhigans to shreds.
Upon turning around, the sight of Lucian in a flying suit magitek armor sent a chill down Yenâtoâs spine. He cackled maniacally upon seeing the group, instantly recognizing them from the Castrum disaster. Rather than angry, he appeared murderously gleeful at the prospect of hunting foes who had bested him before. Ramius was not one for monologuing, and unleashed a barrage of bullets, which prompted Lucian to respond with bursts from his magitek cannon that sent Yenâto flying. Gods damn it-- every time!
Lucian did not want to end the hunt so soon, so he moved out of range and demanded they give him a good show. Almost in sync, the sound a lift engaging caught Yenâtoâs ears - as well as the baying of war hounds. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the Ala Mhigans still clinging to life and murmuring something to Strega before finally passing from his wounds. Strega had an eerily neutral expression on her face as she calmly repeated the words -Â âfind the waterfall and the red marks upon itâ.
With a direction now in mind, the party scrambled upriver as the sounds of hounds closed in behind them. Yenâto could also make out the sounds of cannon fire and explosions. Is he.... is he hunting his own hunting dogs? The Garlean is insane! With Lucian temporarily distracted, the group managed to make their way to a small waterfall. Behind it, Ramius spotted a boulder with red markings -- blood. Working together, they managed to pull it aside and scramble into a small cave before rolling the boulder back in place just as Lucian came flying, screaming insanely about how he would eventually find them.
Yenâto and Aly collapsed onto the cold, stony floor. Strega unfurled blanket and began preparing some healing solutions while Ramius kept an eye out through a crack in the entrance. Yenâto was not paying too much attention to what Strega was going, his eyes instead wandering to take stock of their safe haven. There were strange carvings on the wall, similar to carvings around Ala Mhigo. With a yelp of pain, Yenâto was brought back into focus as Stregaâs magitek contraption stabbed something into him. A little warning would have been nice! But... the pain is starting to subside. Strega treated Aly in a similar manner, closing up the wound caused earlier by the spear.
While recovering from their injuries, they heard a voice approaching their location. As it got closer, they could make out a technician making notes and observations of the artificial battlefieldâs carnage. A brief and hushed discussion ensured, and they agreed on a plan to move the rock and take the technician by surprise. The boulder was moved ever so carefully out of the way, and one by one they slipped through to position themselves to ambush the Garlean.
Ramius was quickest on the draw, literally, and had the man at gunpoint before he knew what was happening. Judging from the face and sounds he just made, it is a good thing he is wearing dark pants. The man begged to be let go, that he was just doing his job and that documenting the deaths of savages was nothing personal. His choice words did not help his case, but they all managed to hold their tempers long enough to get some concessions out of him.
As was plain by now, the Garleans were to blame for the kidnappings. Tribunus Lucian was taking random subjects for testing, but also apparently to satisfy his personal desire for hunting. They delivered food and supplies to the ruined village as a front for their activities. Lucian had been both impressed and perturbed that their infiltration mission had ruined his Castrum. Alyâs enthusiastic comment about finally having a recurring villain to fight did nothing to help Yenâtoâs nerves. This is not some story book! I swear to the Twelve, if I die here I am killing Khan!
They debated amongst themselves on the best course of action. Strega wanted to sabotage the place. Aly wanted to rescue everyone and Ramius wanted to blow it out of existence. Yenâto simply wanted to get out alive. In the end, they were running out of time and had little choice but to force the technician to fly them back to the village so that they could then inform the Alliance to rescue the trapped and unwilling combatants.
The scene upon arriving back at the village was.... surprising, to say the least. Khan was kicking a poor tied up Garlean soldier, demanding to know where his charges had disappeared off to. Various soldiers from the Maelstrom, Twin Adders, and Immortal Flames were interrogating other groups of tied up prisoners. Yenâto was almost impressed at Khan actually doing something responsible. So he can actually get things done. I guess that is why he is able to come across all these mission postings. Well, that, and he keeps hiring us to actually complete them for him.
The haggard, exhausted team dutifully informed Khan and the Alliance of all that occurred. They were assured that the installation would be destroyed that and all prisoners would be rescued from the cruel experiment. Relieved, but exhausted, Yenâto began the long trip back home. Strega began the search for the little ladies room.
Somehow, no matter how wrong these missions go... they are still better than my shifts on Tea Time night
Yenâto was not feeling particularly enthusiastic about this latest job as he stood stewing in a cramped prison cell with four other compatriots. Khanâs latest caper involved getting arrested under false identities and crimes in order to break someone important out of prison. Why in Eorzea did I sign up for this, again? It might be easier to find someone who can grow a gil tree. Khan, in the guise of a guard, had overseen their processing; yet it had still not been particularly pleasant. Letting out a grunt of annoyance, Yenâto glanced around to take stock of the other fools who had been desperate enough to sign up. There were two who had helped with the castrum fiasco job: Strega and Aly. Well... I know they are capable. Strange, but capable. The other two were familiar but unknown: Fiona and Victor, associates of Aly in some manner. One is a patron at the bistro she works at and the other is a cook and waitress... Twelve help us.
As they discussed amongst themselves what the job might entail, Khan finally entered the holding area. According to him, they would be transported to a loosely run prison to find someone named the Jungle Broker. It seemed he was getting a bit too powerful for the comfort of some, and they wanted him out so they could find out what he knew. Or eliminate him? Whatever, our only concern will be to get him out or the information he has. They would need to rely on their wits to get this mission accomplished, since they were going in with nothing but the shoddy clothes on their backs. At least I thought ahead to change my hair and face paint. There is no way I am going to end up on a guild wanted poster and have Fable after me.
Now fully briefed, Khan escorted the ragtag group to the prison proper. It was unlike anything Yenâto had seen or heard of. The guards maintained a presence only at the tops of enormous walls, while the interior was nothing but crumbling buildings and criminals left to their own devices. In the time it took Yenâto to collect his thoughts, two prisoners had already been stabbed. Criminals policing themselves... wonderful. He warned the others to stick together as they tried to find their first contact. They did not have to wait long, since soon a very peculiar yet expected whistling tune caught their attention from nearby.
They cautiously made their way over to the source, which turned out to be a group of three women who were weaving. A sea wolf roegadyn spoke up, identifying herself as Khanâs contact. This feels almost too easy. Much to Yenâtoâs annoyance, it quickly became clear that she did not know their target firsthand. Instead, she knew someone who did and directed them to a highlander male further in the prison who more assuredly would know where the Jungle Broker was. She claimed that he would not give up the information willingly, and that they would need to... coax it out of him. For Twelveâs sake - I knew this was too good to be true!
Off they went, armed with a new goal but little else. That soon changed, however, since the ground was littered with debris that could be used as makeshift weapons. Most of the frustratingly merry band picked up various bits of wood to use as makeshift clubs. Yenâto ignored the bounty and stayed weaponless; with his souring mood, he wanted to feel the impact if he had to go to the trouble of beating information out of someone. As they approached, the man in question stopped whatever he was doing and began to speak up - but he barely got the chance before Fiona was upon him, landing a hard blow with her board. The idiot! She is going to start a fight we might not have needed! The man reeled, his eyes bulging as if going into a rage. Unexpectedly, he instead burst into tears. Calls rang out among his friends who were observing from nearby, clamoring to defend whom they referred to as âGentle Paulâ. âCome on boys - letâs get âem!â Seriously?!
They fought off their attackers as best they could, some doing better than others. Yenâto had limited training in hand-to-hand combat training, but was disciplined enough to know when to fight with restraint. His opponent did not, and Yenâto easily ducked underneath a flailing fist to land a solid blow on the manâs groin in retaliation. The others in the group held their own well enough; Fiona was terrifying in her brutality, and Yenâto swore the prisoner about to hit Strega backed off with just a look. Gentle Paulâs friends limped away to leave the blubbering highlander to fend for hismelf. Yenâto could make out the sea wolf bellowing in the distance âAnd that is for turning me down!â Did we just... get used as revenge for spurned advances?
Yenâto felt a twitch in his eye - he hated being someone elseâs unwitting pawn. His anger simmered further as Gentle Paul informed them that he did not know who the Jungle Broker was, but very certainly knew someone who likely knew someone else who knew who it was. Someone is going to end up with broken bones before we leave, I swear to the Twelve. With a heavy sigh, Yenâto and the others trudged off to the next obstacle who was supposed to be able to help them - which turned out to be a collection of rough looking adolescents.
Yenâto did not even bother trying to figure out why children would be in such a dangerous prison. It quickly became apparent, however, once one of the kids began bragging about all of the shanking he had doled out while introductions bizarrely proceeded. Is this really happening? Is this a nightmare? The kids claimed that they knew where the Jungle Broker was, but demanded a dance for their entertainment before they would give up the information. Deep breath.... they are just kids. Just do what they say so we can move on with this farce. Yenâto struggled to keep his anger in check as he and the rest were soon bobbing back and forth with their best attempts to comply - with mixed and awkward results.
After what seemed like an eternity, the youths seemed pleased and duly informed Yenâtoâs group that they did not know who the Jungle Broker was, but knew someone who knew how to know where to find someone who would know. Did they... but we just - gods damn it! Gritting his teeth, Yenâto stormed off after the others in the appointed direction. Down some dark alleyway, they heard the voice of an old man calling out for them to come closer. Yentâto sensed a trap, but only Strega held back with him as the others blundered towards the source of the sound. You know what, they can go be idiot meat shields and then Strega and I can finish this up while they are bleeding out from stupidity.
From a second story window, an ancient Doman man named Shen hollered greetings down to them in a heavy accent. He said he had the information they required, but in return they would have to indulge in a review of a book he had written. Does everything here have a price? At least we have yet to be stabbed. The Doman lowered it down in a basket, and one by one they each read a passage from the book to give him their opinions.
Aly was as bubbly and positive as could be expected. I do not think she could be mean if her life depended on it. Strega was... confusingly technical, but so far it did not seem like it was that bad. I have no idea what she just said, but... good, I think? Victorâs reaction gave Yenâto pause, since he struggled to provide any sort of meaningful compliment. Someone only tries so hard to be technically correct when there is something to hide. Once it was Fionaâs turn, Yenâto watched in slowly dawning horror as she furiously called out the others for lying, following with a scathing review of how horrible the book was and how horrible everyone was for humoring the daft Doman; Strega was almost in tears for being called a liar. I see those giant ears of her take up all of the space in her head normally reserved for thinking. In a rage, the Doman demanded Yenâto finish the book and that he better have something good to say.
The last portion, as was the whole book, was absolutely horrendous. It took all of Yenâtoâs remaining willpower to keep his expression neutral. A drunk goblin child could come up with something more coherent than this! He hated lying, so he copied Victorâs tactic, âUh... the twist ending where the hero gets everything was perfect?â The Doman seemed pleased, and gleefully sent them on their way for what hopefully was the last hoop to jump through. If this is not the Jungle Broker, then someone is going to end up broken.
Rounding a corner, they came upon a highlander lounging on some crates. He looked highly amused as the group approached, and inquired mirthfully, âWhy did you not just turn left from the gates? Would've taken you straight here!â Yenâto was not amused - his eye twitched again. Hold it together... we still need him alive. Although no one said about unhurt. The Broker affirmed that he was the one whom Khan had sent them to find, and that he also had prepared a plan for breaking out. Much to Yenâtoâs chagrin, said plan involved starting a full blown riot. Upon the Brokerâs signal, some prisoners began a fight which quickly flared into a maelstrom of shouting, fighting, and more than a few stabbings. If I die here, I am going to kill Khan!
The group struggled to make their way through the chaos with their escort in tow, fighting off guards and prisoners alike as they made a bee-line to the front gates. Making good on his promise from earlier, Yenâto managed to sidestep an incoming punch while grabbing the prisonerâs arm before jamming his knee up into the elbow to break the offending appendage - the prisoner howled and scrambled away. Completely done with this nonsense, Yenâto simply squared his shoulder and charged through the mass of bodies. Fiona battered her way through with her makeshift club, while Aly deftly used the thick skulls of the prisoners and guards as launching pads to get through to the gate. Victor used what looked like a combination of lightning and wind aspected aether to lift himself over the fray, and Strega.... had somehow charmed a prisoner to shank a path clear for her.Â
Khan was already waiting outside with a veritable flock of chocobos, all while prisoners spilled out all around them. The Jungle Broker quickly left with Khan, while the rest of the group grabbed the nearest available chocobo and fled in different directions.Â
Another mission complete. Hmph, despite the âhelpâ from the others. Well, except maybe Strega... who was somehow even more effective than the others despite not fighting. How does she do that? They had somehow managed to blunder their way to success, and that was all that really mattered.
Yenâto arrived at the long forgotten village in eastern Eorzea prepared and determined to get this mission completed. He was disguised in a Garlean conscriptâs uniform, acquired from a recently dead soldier who no longer needed it. The objective was to infiltrate a nearby Castrum and gather information for the locals so they could exploit vulnerabilities in a future attack against it. Certainly beats babysitting at the tea house. My skills can get a real test now! A new hire, Khan, was a drunken idiot but he somehow had contacts necessary to find this sort of mission. Lady Faye must have sought him for information brokering purposes. He certainly cannot stay sober in the kitchen, hmph.
The local contact and Strega were already there, but it did not take long before the other brave souls who had signed up to arrive. Ramius, Aly, and Deccan apparently also wanted a change in pace. An interesting mix. I know Deccan and Ramius are capable enough... but what about the others? It did not take long to find out. As they went over the mission parameters and plan, it became clear that Deccan, Ramius, and Strega all had intimidate knowledge of Garlean operations and culture. I... probably should have done some homework for this one. The only things I know is their salute and lack of magical ability. Gods... how am I going to know who to salute? What if they ask my name?!
Thankfully, Ramius had brought a relatively high ranking Doman uniform and would take point. They would get in under the guise of an engineering team, snoop around, and then leave. Why does this sound all too easy? Oh well... no turning back now. They headed up the path, the sound of their steps drowned out by the thunderous boom of artillery from the Castrum, pummeling some hapless distant target. As they came closer to the entrance, it was evident that the troops felt no concern about any impending attack; their faces were jovial and their demeanor was relaxed.
The gate guard still had a job to do, and demanded they halt and identify themselves. Yenâto began to feel a bit nervous, but Ramius was convincing enough and they were let inside without incident. As they entered, Yenâtoâs eyes grew wide as he looked around the mustering yard. By the Twelve... look at all these soldiers - they must be planning an assault! The thought was interrupted, however, as they were accosted once again - this time by an officer. As Ramius weaved his web of lies, there was a sound of a heavy thud as Deccan suddenly fainted. Yenâto felt sweat beads form on his brow as he wondered what in he hells was going on. Is he alright? Donât panic, donât panic...
Strega quickly piped up and said they needed to need to get Deccan to the medicus. She helped him up as he began coming to, and then the pair shuffled off to the medical wing; ostensibly to treat Deccan, but also for a chance to gather information. The officer was unconcerned with Declanâs health, and ushered the remainig group which consisted of Yenâto, Ramius, and Aly to to the magitek armor maintenance bay.
Once they were alone, Ramius briefed them on the plan. It was a shift from reconnaissance to sabotage: they would âfixâ the armor units so that they would malfunction and go haywire and hopefully blunt their damage potential. Once again, Yenâto felt a spike of anxiety at his acute lack of magitek knowledge. I have some machinist training... but this is magitek! How am I supposed to know what to do? He felt even more useless by the fact Aly was apparently just as knowledgeable as Ramius. After being given a crash course in how to purposefully break something, instead of accidentally breaking, they set to work on ârepairingâ the units.
The trio had almost finished their tasks, when into the bay walked a Garlean in gold tinted armor. He was obviously high ranking, and Yenâto shot Ramius a nervous look. Their situation became even more precarious once the man introduced himself as a Tribunis, and began engaging in small talk. Gods damn it, this is the last thing we need! We have to finish, grab Strega and Deccan and get the hells out of here! Yenâto felt he was less than convincing as they exchanged âpleasantriesâ and wondered when the man would leave them the hells alone. Ramius must have sensed that their ruse was unraveling, and suddenly let loose a barrage of bullets as his unit began going âhaywireâ. The tribunis deftly blocked the incoming fire with his gunblade, and ran to activate the alarm. Yenâto had no idea as how to pilot his unit, and swiftly abandoned it to engage the onrushing soldiers in melee combat while Ramius and Aly sent bodies flying with their magitek armor. Damn it... never being an axe to a gun fight.
Strega and Deccan soon came running from across the muster yard, with a bandaged and sickly Garlean and large briefcase in tow - for some reason. You know what - I would rather not know at this point. They all used Ramiusâ and Alyâ armor as cover while they fled. Yenâto had been holding into Alyâs armor when he was suddenly blasted off, slamming hard into the ground. He felt a searing pain in his leg as he struggled to get up. If I die here I swear I am going to kill Khan. Somehow they were able to clear a path to the Castrum gate, where a makeshift barricade had been set up by some surving Garleans. Yenâto maintained his cover behind the magitek armor as best he could to avoid the hail of gunblade fire. Aly and Ramius set their units to overload, and the resulting destruction proved distraction enough to flee back to the nearby village.
Yenâto collapsed to the ground in both relief and pain, his left leg having struggled to support his weight. He waved off the othersâ concern, then they took a few moment to catch their breath before splitting up to regroup back at the Shroudrose in Gridania. Once back at his room, Yenâto wrapped a makeshift bandage around a gash in his leg before hobbling down to the basement to debrief with the others. Itâs... fine, I will get that looked at later. Despite their alterations to the mission, Khan confirmed that the client was more than satisfied with the result. Oh good... I did not nearly die for nothing. Hmph. Next time I need to ask more questions before I sign up.
Yenâto also had questions for Deccan and Strega, who appeared all but traumatized by the missi9n.
Yenâto stared sullenly at the stack of notes cluttering his desk at the Shroudrose Teahouse. His shift this night had been much more trying than he expected, and had left him in a sour mood. Why must every shift be a test of patience?
The first sign of trouble was when he noticed Haruhi Puma was already present upon his arrival. Oh gods.... she is going to have plenty of time to get on my nerves. She better not call me Yenny again or I swear I am going to do something that will get me fired. She was talking with a blue tinged Moon-keeper miqoâte that Yenâto had seen before but yet to meet - he thought her name was something like Tena. And the opportunity would elude him yet again, since he quickly removed himself to the other side of the great room when Haruhi started teasing about her sparring match with Rissa. That was personal and embarrassing, hmph. I really need to take up her offer of a match just to shut her up for a little while, if nothing else.
The other side of the room proved little better. Primrose was sitting a table with a couple miqoâte, one of which Yenâto thought he had seen before. It did not take long before her attempts A.Attorney teasing had him rolling his eyes. From one trap to another... why do I keep taking the bait? The talk at the table was turning... questionable, so Yenâto decided to patrol the other rooms to cool off. The second floor proved much more peaceful, with just Kiari and Ramius in the library. Yenâto watched them curiously, but did not intrude. Knowing Ramius, he probably wants to take the android apart to see what makes her tick. She is probably trying to figure out more about her origin.
Upon his return to the lower floor, he found his mood quickly souring yet again. A new hire named Khan had shown up, just as drunk as he was during the tavern night a few suns ago. Is he... is he seriously going to work like that? What is Lady Faye thinking allowing this?! The man did himself no favors, continuously getting Yenâtoâs name wrong and trying to sneak in pulls from his flask of who knew what.
Much of the rest of the shift was spent with Yenâto alternating between keeping an eye on Khan and berating him. Idiot... he is lucky he has not broken anything yet. Not a shred of professionalism, hmph. Yenâto very nearly followed through on his threat to break Khanâs jaw after he started yelling instead of using the linkpearl.
There were a few welcome distractions that briefly spared him from the buffoonery of the night. Talha showed up with a date. It greatly amused him that she asked for permission for the night off, as if he had any real say about that. Good for her... but if her date harms so much as one hair I will end him. There was also an overly inquisitive guest that Yenâto never got the name of, and another named Mânora that struck up a conversation. She was surprisingly forthcoming about her past. Not that I am complaining... but why does everyone keep offering sparring matches? Seems to be mostly females too...
However, the ending note to the shift proved to be an ominous one. Sybilâs short scream quickly gained Yenâtoâs attention, and after a bit of soothing he managed to have her produce a note she had found in the entranceway planter. First a strange dagger at happy hour, now this. What is gong on? The fur on his ears slowly stood on end as he read the short, but threatening note: You killed him, now I kill you.
Yenâto quickly presented the note to Lady Faye. She had no idea what or who it could refer to either, but concern was growing over the dangerous leavings that kept showing up. It was not likely to be the yakuza that Primrose had gotten involved with, and the possibility of a new, unseen threat left Yenâto feeling uneasy. Well... seems I am going to have my work cut out for me.
Yenâto hummed softly as he drummed his fingers idly against his new desk. Security work at the Shroudrose was starting to become much more involved lately, and he needed to get more organized. Hence, he rearranged his room to accommodate a workspace. Hmph. De facto head of security but without the official title that would lead to a pay raise. Oh well. Yenâto paused and scowled down at the sheet of parchment in front of him, containing a small number of haphazard notes.
Somehow, Primrose had gotten entangled with some yakuza from the Far East. Knowing her, that might actually have been literal. A small group of them had come by the last opening night, with a very strangely dressed hyur highlander who had started bothering her. Alongside Lady Faye, they managed to get him to leave Primrose alone. For the time being, anyway...
The group eventually left of their own accord, and Yenâto had followed to eavesdrop. He inconspicuously stood guard by the bridge leading to the building, just within hearing range as they prattled on. He did not understand all of it, but ultimately discovered bribery was somehow involved and no one was happy about the situation.
Now Yenâto was finding himself forced to maintain a list of notes and names to keep everything straight. Not only of potential enemies, but of his fellow employees who could function as guards. Hmmm.... the list of potential help is much smaller than I would like, but not every able body is so obvious. Deccan knows more than he lets on, and Fable is rather cunning. ... At least Talha can punch hard?
He let out a sigh, then leaned back against his chair. It seemed his relatively easy ride as a tea house guard was about to become much bumpier. His lips quirked as a satisfied grin slowly formed in response to a blooming thought. Good... finally a test of my skills.
If wishes were fishes, he would feel quite fat at the moment. Yenâto scowled as a large school of thoughts swam in his head. I wish Tahlia had never ran away... I wish I had not signed up with the Maelstrom... and I wish I would stop ending up in this stupid infirmary. The chiurgeon tending to Yenâto looked no more pleased to be tending him than Yenâto was at being his patient.
Three of Yenâtoâs squad had made it back to the barracks from their mission... and three did not. The battle was hard won but not without cost, and it was hardly a complete victory. At least two of the pirates escaped, one if which was his half-sister, but their base was destroyed and it would take them quite some time to re-establish their operations.
The needle sewing up the back of his head caused Yenâto to wince and grumble. The chiurgeon tsked in response, âI wish you would be more careful. You are almost in here more than me at this point, you know.â This caused Yenâto to roll his eyes, incidently glad that the chiurgeon was not able to see it. A few few moons into his enlistment and all he had to show for it so far was scars and humiliation.
It was then that his lieutenant strolled into the room, a serious look in his face as he aporoached Yenâto. âWell, lad... ya musâ be doinâ something right. I âave some good news... surprisingly. Someone likes what yer doinâ, and ya can look forward to beingâ a corporal once all healed up.â The news was almost like medicine, and a bit of the pain faded as Yenâto processed the news.
Yenâto felt his stomach knotting up. During the argument over the plan, their prisoner had slipped away and warned his comrades on the other side of the dunes. They had only moments to prepare before a wave of very murderous looking brigands crested over the tops of the dunes.
To Yenâto, they seemed to outnumber his comrades at least two to one. He thought he saw a glimpse of a miqoâte that looked like Tahlia, but had no time to confirm before the first of the pirates were upon them. The Maelstrom soldiersâ only hope was that they had a thaumaturgist on their side. The ensuing battle between the pirates and Yenâtoâs squad mates was brutal and fierce. Shortly into the fight, Yenâto felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and the world went dark.
Yenâto lied sprawled out on the sand. He was fairly certain the wetness he felt on his head was blood and not the sea. With a grimace, he lifted his head to take stock of the situation. At least the lieutenant and one other of his squad were still moving. Any surviving pirates were nowhere to be seen, but there were plenty of lifeless bodies.
He slowly sat up more fully, and rubbed the back of his head. Pulling his hand back in front of his face revealed his earlier assumption had been correct. A motion out of the corner of Yenâtoâs eye caught his attention, and with pained effort he turned to look.
Not far off shore, a small ship was sailing away further out to the sea. As he squinted against the breaking rays of dawn, he could make out the former captive at the helm. Hanging off the mast beam was another figure, and Yenâto could just make out the very unmistake face of Tahlia, who was giving a mocking salute as she slipped further into the distance.
