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Vespertine [closed] - Printable Version

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Vespertine [closed] - Kat - 05-27-2017

[Image: kH8nRwJ.png]

A private 1x1 between Kat & Scoot
Feel free to read along.




RE: Vespertine [closed] - Kat - 05-27-2017

The fifteenth sun of the third umbral moon, year of the Lovers, the sixth astral age.

My mother argued it wasn't my place to leave, but I left the next day without her blessing. A shame that she couldn't appreciate my enthusiasm for adventuring, but her mention of my father stung more than it should have. The comparison she made.

'You're just like him, Xeii. Just as reckless.'

I'd have preferred she tell me something endearing instead, like I shared his lust for life, but my mother was always negative in even the best light. A worthy attribute of a tribe matron, but a poor maternal trait. My siblings had mixed opinions of my departure. Feif and Barnoda gave me new clothing for the journey, cotton for light travel, and several small lectures on the type of men I should avoid in the cities. The majority of my siblings agreed I would be best suited studying archery, so I was content to oblige them. Of course, my father is in Gridania, and that weighed heavily on just where I was most comfortable hanging my hat between adventures.

I think that was why my mother was so angry with me. The idea of my father holding any influence over my life must have stung. He sired ten of us, but I was the last of his children, and in some ways, I was the last trace of his life as a Nunh. He retired to the quiet of New Gridania, but he always sent word of his current events. He wasn't absent from my life, at any rate, but that didn't stop my mother's anger from reaching the ranks of her children. Kairan sneered over my decision, calling me stupid and weak for following an old man into obscurity.

Did they really think so little of their previous Nunh? He stepped down... But they acted like that was a sort of defeat unto itself?

I'll never understand what was expected of my father, but I know my decision to depart from the tribe isn't one made with him in mind. No. I'm leaving because I won't become my mother, and that is all that awaits me in the tribe.


The first sun of the fourth astral moon, year of the Lovers, the sixth astral age.

It rained the entire journey, and for the life of me, I haven't decided if that was the most miserable part or if my entrance into the Adventurer's guild was somehow worse. The sweet matron Elezen who runs the inn in Gridania was quick to welcome me, but before I was given a meal and a bed to rest, I was back out into the thick of the city. Attuning to the aethryte, jogging down to the market stalls to meet with the head of the business wings, and finally checking in with my future archery instructor, Luciane. I was given a bow and a task, but it would wait for the following morning, as my exhaust got the better of me and I required rest.

I can't remember being this tired, yet even writing now, my eyes are closing. It's been a long road but I made it. Now I just need to find my father.


The twenty-first sun of the sixth umbral moon, year of the Lovers, the sixth astral age.

What makes some of the Elezen so inhospitable? Their acceptance of outsiders is cautious at best, but even more so if the outsider is a Miqo'te. I've been part of the archery guild for several moons now, and Silvaire has never ceased his catty commentary regarding who is allowed in and what responsibilities they are given. Every sun, he angers me with his archaic way of thinking, yet Luciane tells me he is well meaning? How? What does he expect from me if all I am met with for my tireless work is his berating?

As for my father, he is so busy lately, I might as well be alone in the city. I spend more and more of my time within the Roost, poking at the available leves of the Carline Canopy or asking Mother Miounne what all needs to be done. With each passing sun, I learn a bit more of the city and it's culture, but I feel small tugs of nostalgia over home. My tribe writes me sometimes to let me know the details of their lives, but as expected, it rarely changes. A Nunh I once knew was ousted from his position... His name was one I could have gone the rest of my life without hearing again. Still, to be thrown from the spotlight must be quite the change of pace. I'm sure he will sort out his end without my prayers, but I offered them to Azeyma anyway.


The eighth sun of the first astral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.

I have reached the final leg of my apprenticeship under Luciane, and I have done all I could to rid the woods of the black shroud of the many threats within them. I've even been recognized for my efforts, which was heartwarming, but also a bit saddening. I did so much with and for the people of Gridania, but only after these feats of heroism was I acknowledged. My father told me not to despair over the opinions of foreigners, but so long as we live in Gridania, they are our neighbors. It might be time I become a proper adventurer and take to the countless areas spread across Eorzea, but I've grown comfortable in Gridania. A strained comfort, true, but one that I could continue living in if not thrust from my complacency.

Luckily, my father knew this would be the case, and his daily reminders are enough to rile my sense of curiosity. There is much more to do, to see, to experience. Much, much more.


The twentieth sun of the first astral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.

Today might be the sun of my departure from Gridania, and for the first time in a year, I am afraid.



W'xeii Tau had nothing more to write concerning her thoughts, as fear was universally understood, and that emotion had grown and swelled in her chest until she was threatened by the hint of tears tickling her dark lashes. Batting them away, the Miqo'te glanced around the openness of the Roost, seeing fellow adventurers seated with those they considered comrades and colleagues. Her own table was empty, save for her bag occupying another seat and her meal untouched across the seating arrangement. She pushed it away to write, but now the corned paissa had congealed and her appetite was lost. Perhaps it was gone prior to her excuses, but the woman wasn't entirely focused on her surroundings. If anything, she was blind to the sell swords and bounty hunters, as well as the more familiar faces of the local Smith and the Levemaster.

She hadn't considered how difficult it might be to detach from the culture she had settled into over the past year. These were the individuals who contributed the most to her growth as an archer, and without them, she would be left working in the Carpentry guild with her father. Not that W'xeii would have minded being closer to Tau, but she knew that the longer she hid beneath his fatherly wings, the worse her dependency would become. It was inevitable that she tread out to face the most pressing matters plaguing Eorzea, and from what whispers had passed through the other adventurers over the last few days, W'xeii gathered that something was happening in South Shroud she would need to personally investigate. Something to do with an expedition team and their uncovered findings.

Some called it a Palace of the Dead.

Was that what was causing this terror to worm through her body, or was it less to do with what awaited her and more to do with how she intended to embark on such a journey? She would need a team - first and foremost. It was unheard of to travel alone, and she was a novice at best. There was safety in numbers, at least. Slipping her journal into her satchel, the woman rose to her feet and stretched her arms high about her head before dropping a few gold pieces onto the table for the meal. Even if she didn't eat, she wasn't about to skip out on paying.



RE: Vespertine [closed] - Scoot - 05-30-2017


Thirteenth Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover

He cursed the sun loudly as he walked. It was blasphemous to even whisper, let alone yell such curses as a Keeper of the Sun, but it was traditions such as those that landed W'khan in his current situation. Though he'd lived in the desert his entire life, he'd never remembered it being so hot or so bright as it felt now. With each step his booted toes seemed to cook hotter and hotter as they sunk into the sand.

He had no more than the clothes he wore and the spear on his back; not even bothering to fill his belly before leaving. W'khan hadn't been exiled. There was no tradition that forced him from his home and his people. No, it was simply a matter of pride, or lack thereof. Having been emasculated in front of his peers and forced to return to the role of a Tia left no choice in his mind than to leave, making his current situation all the more pitiable.

Fortunately, even with all the things he'd left behind, his instincts stayed with him and though the years leading up to now had been spent mostly idle, he was still a strong and cunning hunter. At least, that's what his ego would tell him.
The tracks he spotted no doubt belonged to a Dune Angler, a harmless scavenger but a decent meal, and by the looks of it, a big one. So, with spear in hand he set after his prey, following the snaking tail marks over one dune and then the next in a seemingly endless chase urged forward only by his whining stomach.

Through his miserable trek he couldn't help but remind himself of the chain of events that led to this point. Had he made so many mistakes, or was it simply the jealous plotting of the people he deemed beneath him? He'd drive himself crazy with thoughts like these, but in his solitude there was nothing, nobody, to pull him out of it. The brooding only made him more angry, tightening his grip on the spear as he neared the peak of the latest dune, sure that his quarry was on the other side and he was ready to unleash his rage on the helpless creature. What he found as he crested the sand instead was a large, red-scaled sundrake staring right back at him. It lowered his body with a throaty hiss, showing off it's fangs as it dug its claws into the sand in preparation to charge.

"I'm such a fucking idiot."

Eleventh Sun of the Second Astral Moon, Year of the Lover

"Yeah, but I'm the nunh. That's my responsibility."

"It's not your responsibility to distract three, sometimes four huntresses at a time, sometimes for days at a time. It's your responsibility to keep the tribe strong be siring cubs and you haven't even been doing that. It's been moons since we've had a birth, and our matriarch is even more frustrated with you than I am. The least you could do is squirt in the right hole next time, W'Khan."

W'fhin Tia was the tribe head and had a lot of respect from the other members as a smart tactician and a skilled warrior. It wasn't uncommon for a tia to lead the tribe, and in this case he was smaller, and by the same degree weaker than W'khan which earned him a bit of lee way. In truth the relationship between the two was pretty ideal. W'khan never measured the skinny male as a threat to his position, and he had no interest in leading the tribe, so for the most part they stayed out of each other's way except for the barest of formality that each position demanded.

W'fhin departed the nunh's tent without another word, but he'd done what he came to do by destroying the mood. W'khan gave a throaty growl, the kind native eorzeans struggled to duplicate, the kind as such only a cat could make and dismissed the women he kept in his possession by doing so. His chair was a lavish display of pillows and cushions and he sat on it naked and on display, propping his head on one arm as he watched them leave.

Thirteenth Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover

The fire crackled and spat embers around on the sand as bits of cooking fat and grease dripped from the sundrake tail that was held in place by a spear over it. W'khan had no spare cloth to improvise as a bandage so his left arm and shoulder bled freely, painting his sleeve and the sand beneath him a deep red. He didn't seem to mind though, now that the sun had set and the heat subsided he was content to stare at the fire and make sure his dinner wouldn't burn.

In his isolation he had plenty of time to think, but his past wasn't something he wanted to relive right now. The sting of his defeat hurt worse than the bite of the drake that so keenly weighed on his body. As much as he tried though, there was little to distract his thoughts from drifting. At least he was close to town. If he skipped sleeping, he might even be there by morning.

Fifth Sun of the Third Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover

"Another huntress left the tribe, W'khan!" F'fhin hissed. His tone was sharp, and W'khan didn't have patience for being scolded by any male, as they were all seen as lesser than himself. He rose from his seat, clad in the barest of cloth draped over his frame ready to snap a reply.
"It's worse this time. It was-"

"W'xeii left because of YOU!" The feminine voice was furious as the elder woman charged in behind W'fhin. Perhaps the only person in the tribe W'khan truly feared; the matriarch, W'anya. She had stood in a place of deep respect to the tribe. A task that was not easy to maintain after her husband, the former nunh, stepped down and left. His actions were viewed as a betrayal and reflected on his entire family. Even in spite of this, W'anya and her family had flourished, earning their place among the rest by exemplifying whatever craft they endeavored to take up in service of the tribe. W'anya was no exception. The Keepers of the Sun didn't revere matriarchs in the same way the Keepers of the Moon did, but even still her council and wisdom had been indispensable to the tribe heads.

And if her accusation was true, W'khan had just chased off her youngest daughter.

Fourteenth Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover

"Hahah! It's not so bad, little guy!"

At least his tone was friendly. Disarming. Though, W'khan didn't like being called little. It wasn't like he could argue though, the Roegadyn that had found him was massive by comparison. W'khan stood at maybe nipple height, but he wasn't just tall, he was built like a tree and could no doubt crush the smaller miqo'te without much of a thought. He called himself Drifting Wind, and he claimed to be a trader. The town he described sounded great. A bustling hub of trade and commerce. Drifting Wind found his way here often, as any supplies his far out were in high demand and could easily be sold or traded off. Surely it wouldn't be too difficult to find work, or earn some coin to buy passage farther west. Though it was his home, W'khan wanted nothing to do with the desert anymore.

'Little Ala Mhigo' That's what he called it. It seemed to mock it's own namesake. Ala Mhigo was the first eorzean country to be sacked by the Garleans and whatever refugees had escaped indoctrination somehow found their way here, to some hole they dug out of a mountain. It was filthy. The streets were lined with tents and trash, or even less. People just passed out in the dirt, or fucking behind a rock. Not another miqo'te in sight, surely any that might have been native to the region new better than to venture here. It was the worst W'khan had ever seen, a stark comparison to the village he'd left, but it was safe and it had trade. His plan was to barter a ride anywhere else.

First Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover

The sun beat hot as W'khan collapsed in pain. His rib felt broken but it didn't hurt nearly as bad as his pride. He couldn't carry on, and that was the worst part. He had been defeated, and it had happened too quickly for him to even realize what had happened. W'fhin wasn't even using a weapon. Two swift punches was all it took to take W'khan to a knee, and with that he was resigned from his position as nunh.

"It's over, W'khan Tia. This is what's best for us all. Please, let me find something you're more fit for."

Even now, when he should be reveling in his victory his voice was kind. His tone had no mocking sneer, but only radiated a genuine concern for each member of his tribe. But how could he stay now? He refused to believe any of the damage that had been done was his fault. No, he had been cheated somehow. There was no other explanation for such an easy defeat. He had been conspired against, and he wouldn't live with those that would plot against him. He'd prove he was better off without them by leaving, with whatever image he had left remaining intact. In his mind, perhaps he thought they'd realize they were wrong after time and his name would be remembered and told as a source of pride. Whatever the future held, he wouldn't be here to witness it. He was strong, and smart, and resourceful and surely he'd do perfectly well on his own.


RE: Vespertine [closed] - Kat - 05-31-2017

The twenty-first sun of the first astral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.

I was sent to the Smiths for an assessment of my training. After a day spent practicing the techniques taught by Luciane over the last several moons, I was passed and sent on to an outfitter who ensured I was equipped for a trek into the unknown. My initial concerns of finding a party seem silly now, given the Smiths' system of pairing off new adventurers with more experienced partners. By the evening, I had met those who would be traveling with me. A weathered Duskwright by the name of Bastionne, a Lalafell named Corria Sorria, and a very shy Highlander who dwarfed the rest of us who went by the title of Rock. I didn't converse with my party long, but I wouldn't have been capable of pulling together such a coordinated group without the aid of the Smiths, and for that, I'm grateful for the assistance.

Tau warned me that I may not like adventuring, but I've assured him it's not about liking what I do. It's about doing what's right for Eorzea. We have Garleans pushing our borders and unknown mysteries within the nations that make up the alliance of Grand Companies. Without adventurers, all these problems would be left unchecked.


The twenty-fifth sun of the first astral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.

Where did all this blood come from? Was this her blood? It was in her eyes, coating her features in tacky, warm crimson...

Blinded, she screamed.

The twenty-second sun of the first astral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.

Supply shopping was done last minute; we collected anything we could think we might need. From rope to mining equipment, and anything related to survival tonics. Potions, poultices, bandages, and splints. My bag threatened to split at the seams, but Bastionne promised it was better to over pack than to under pack for a journey. It's hard to argue with his logic, and give how frequently he boasted of his past escapades, I'm inclined to follow his lead. Corria only speaks of Eastern Thanalan, and while I wish to speak of it with her, I know it will only make me upset to think of those I left behind. Even so early, I miss my father. Adding more people to the list in my heart won't do any good for the expedition.

For the night, we're staying in Quarry Mill, and my party is content to speak with the locals. All the gossip of the underground ruins hints that those adventurers stupid enough to explore them got what they deserved. A humbling thought, but one that reminds me why I'm here. To do what no one else wishes to do. If it were easy, everyone would already have done it.


The fifth sun of the second astral moon, year of the lover, the sixth astral age.

Xeii's back arched, her fingers groping helplessly against the tension in her companion's chest. His hands possessed her hips, digits digging into the meat of her sides as he guided her ever so slowly down the shaft of his cock. Her spread warmth shivered, the lips of her sex peeled apart to accommodate each forceful thrust at a pace she wasn't used to. He was coaxing her, testing her patience while wearing a familiar smirk, and she could only writhe and tighten anxiously, her breasts and torso slick with a sheen of sweat.

"What's the matter, Kitten?" Somehow, Khan purred between his throatier noises of contentment, fighting the needy muscles squeezing all the way from the head of his manhood to the base. Each push demanded the shapely figure in his lap to relegate, to mold and to shape to his needs. He could watch her struggle for hours at a time, testing his own limits just to finish their game, but he never truly tired of the futility. Xeii would fight him, but in the end, her struggling only made her submission that much sweeter. "I know you are close, so..." He pulled her closer, his arms wrapped around the back of her spine just above the flickering of her tail. "Come for your Nunh."

"I-I-" Full lips parted, her mouth a hairs width away from his as she gasped and rocked in his lap to swallow his entirety, straining the walls of her slick cunt to take every throbbing inch. She couldn't help herself as she jerked back suddenly, causing her lower torso to twist and lock as she milked his girth with undulations of ecstasy. Her words had become moans, low and long and wanton as she was kept captive in his embrace during her climax. She couldn't even look away as her batting lashes continued to show that arrogance and pride W'khan Nunh was known for. Even then, he wouldn't finish, instead keeping that firm pace so she was left vulnerable and on display for her superior.

"What a good girl you've been... But we're not done. Not yet."

The seventh sun of the second astral moon, year of the lover, the sixth astral age.

"You can't love him." W'marai stated simply, sipping her sweet tea across from Xeii. "Not when it's his position that you are in love with. He has power, and you want power."

"I don't believe it to be so simple," W'xeii admitted softly before casting her sights toward the tribe, where huts and tents and stalls all seemed to blur with the drifts of red sand rising in the air. "It doesn't have anything to do with power."

"Easy to say when you believe yourself favored by such a powerful figure, yes? Go to him now, and see him with others, and tell me it is love. No, W'xeii. This is business. Business done for the health of the tribe, and you will do the same as your mother did, and you will raise a clan within the tribe. Perhaps they will be sired by W'khan. Perhaps by another Nunh. That shouldn't matter to you." W'marai offered a small nod before adding, "Remember your parents. Remember W'tau's admission of love to your mother. See what became of love between them... Bitterness."

The fourth sun of the fourth astral moon, year of the matron, the sixth astral age.

W'xeii, at 16, watched her family torn apart by the laws of the tribe.

"Get your hands off of me!" W'Tau Nunh bitterly growled, thrashing at the surrounding Tia attempting to pull him from his family home. "I have given everything to this Tribe! Leave me to her!"

W'anya, with tears in her eyes, stood silently shielding her eleven children sired by W'tau. Her body blocked the narrow hall leading from their respective chambers to the open entry of the home, but W'xeii could see how defiantly her father fought as he was once more pressed to sire more children.

"You have this duty until you are defeated, W'tau- You need to do this for the good of the tribe!" A Tia spoke, but earned only a violent smack from the elder Nunh as though what was said was insult and nothing more.

"I will renounce this title if that is what it takes, but I will never betray my family again! RELEASE ME!"

W'xeii was crying as she backed away from her huddling siblings all looking on past the wall their mother created. She didn't understand why she cried.

The twenty-third sun of the first astral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.

We're on the road to the dig site, and I have little time to write as we ride, but the air smells foul in this part of the Shroud. I'm concerned by my colleagues as well, as they say less and less the closer we are to our destination. Is this silence normal? It feels surreal to me. I've never known this sense of foreboding, but it remains and persists by the bell.

I never made amends with the past, so I pray to Azeyma this isn't the last nights I spend under this overcast. If I'm to die, I wish to die somewhere the sun shines strongly so the Goddess may take me easily.


The twenty-fourth sun of the first astral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.

[This page, or several pages, have been ripped from W'xeii Tau's journal, replaced with only the word GONE.]

The twenty-sixth sun of the first astral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.

W'xeii awoke surrounded by the healers of the Smiths, their familiar banners covering the inside of the tent where she lay hospitalized. Scrapes and cuts were covered in salve, her clothing replaced by a simple hempen gown to allow the superficial injuries time to heal. Blinking hazily, she struggled to keep from falling back to sleep, and through sore vocals, she managed to ask in a whispered, "I-is it.. over?"

The closest clerical worker, a portly White Mage, nodded her head. "You're going to be just fine, but you need to rest. Close your eyes, child, and go back to sleep-"

"...But the others."

"Just sleep."

The fourth sun of the first umbral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.

They told her it would leave a scar, and sure enough, the slash across the bridge of her nose was visible even after the rest of her body had made a full recovery. Idly, she rubbed the pad of her thumb over the damaged tissue, tracing the line while her golden hues searched the outskirts of her camp uneasily. She hadn't returned to Gridania. She hadn't even decided if she should be in the Black Shroud after the disgrace of her expedition, but without a home of her own, she hadn't much choice but to skirt civilization and weather the potential storm of her shame. She knew it wasn't her fault. Bastionne bringing explosives was his mistake, and the fire from Corria's spells was inevitable. She was a Black Mage.

Rock was the first to die, crushed unceremoniously beneath the rubble. Corria soon followed, but to a beast deep in the undead palace. It found her trying to get back to the surface, and it finished her as quickly as it was given chance to. Bastionne, our healer, consulted his cards for hours before determining he and I would need to travel swiftly south. I don't remember what happened to me to incapacitate me, but when I awoke, I was splattered in Elezen blood. I live by Azeyma's grace and that alone.


Staring vacantly into the fire pit, Xeii's lips quivered miserably as slow tears dripped over the pages of her journal. The book was in disarray, pages bent and bloodied and burned, but she had no other outlet but to write, and in the cool evening silence, she secretly hoped the world would just swallow her in her loneliness if only to ease the pain. She was apologetic for faults that weren't hers, where no one could witness this self doubt. Nothing was shared. Only the somber and eerie mists of the nighttime Shroud, with the great beasts hidden in the darkness beyond range of the campfire. She closed the journal and ushered a miserable sigh before bedding down for the night.



RE: Vespertine [closed] - Scoot - 06-03-2017

Fourth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover

His palms found their places on either side of her head, fingers gripping around slender ears as his thumbs would rub their fleshy interior. The grip would tighten as he slid more of his cock along her tongue with each push from his hips into her mouth, threatening the back of her throat as the muscle throbbed. Her tongue worked to accommodate the penetration, forcing his member between it's flattened tip and the roof of her mouth as she choked down onto it. His grunting breaths were met by hers, guttural and gagging against his aggressive hold.

"You've always been so eager to remind me why you're my favorite." He taunted her, challenged her skill, even as his base rested against her lips. He knew she was zealous to distinguish herself from the other women he coupled with and at times would take advantage of that to get what he wanted from her.

Her fingers would dig into his thighs as she forced herself along his length. He didn't need to provoke her further. Instead the hands that gripped her ears entwined their digits into her brown hair as he seized control. Whereas before, W'xeii had been working her own pace, now she was held captive in his clutches as he fucked her mouth. One final push past her lips and his body would lock around hers, sending thick shots of his seed to coat the back of her tongue and throat. He removed himself as his body relaxed, leaving a lingering strand of cum drooling from her mouth as he stroked a hand through her hair.

"That's why you're my favorite."

Sixth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover

W'khan awoke in a haze, in a pool of sweat, and too sore to move. His entire left side was wracked with pain and he felt like he was burning alive from the inside out. Barely cognizant of his surroundings, he could at least make out that he was inside a tent, and he could discern a massive humanoid shape snapping to attention as he writhed now in conscious irritation. "Lay still, small friend. Your wounds have begun to fester. The bite of a sundrake can carry all manner of infection, you should have said something sooner." W'khan was in no mood to be scolded, and as the fever burned through his mind he wasn't even able to understand the lesson. Drifting Wind made a gesture as he spoke, bringing thumb and forefinger to each of his ears in a pinching motion. "Your earrings. They were gold so I traded them for a salve. Sorry I didn't ask, but I thought you mind find it a better alternative to dying, hahah! With some luck, you'll be up in a few days."

A few days... That much W'khan at least was able to grasp. More time in his hell. Little Ala Mhigo stunk and festered worse than his wounds did. The highland youth were strong, and full of pride but worse, they were bored. The elders among them decided it was futile to attempt to retake their homeland as dozens of nations previous and tried and failed to do against the Garlean campaign. They were content to eke out a miserable existence in their caves and tents. So their youths took out their energy amongst themselves; Raping and infighting, stealing. It was all commonplace. The more noble-minded among them took it upon themselves to form militias that would 'proactively defend' themselves from the local beast tribes by picking fights with the Amalj'aa. Even their efforts did more harm than good; where the beastmen were content to pick on traders straying too far from the roads, now they provoked all manner of raiding parties seeking retaliation. W'khan couldn't be rid of the place sooner. If it had to be a few more days, he counted himself lucky he'd at least be unconscious for it.

Fourth Umbral Moon, Year of the Lover

"They're getting to close, W'fhin Tia." The matriarch spoke in a hushed but urgent tone as she seated herself in the tribal leaders tent.
"It's just coupling, and for all of his flaws, W'Khan Nunh is at least diligent about that. It's his responsibility to sire a strong and numerous next generation for the tribe." He paused, reluctant to continue but abandoning the logic and tradition behind it to speak to her as a peer. "I understand W'xeii is your youngest, but she's at age now when her duties to our clan can expand to include this. As long as she continues to complete her other duties, I don't see a problem."
"To hell with his duty! He's an arrogant bastard and you see it as well as I do. The two of them will come to think they're in love, and the native Eorzean ideas of family don't fit in our tribe. It will be a repeat of my husband, the last nunh. A disaster. Or worse, he'll chase her out of the village like he has the others. If you don't do something, W'fhin, he will cause lasting damage to the tribe, and you'll be left to clean it up."

First Astral Moon, Year of the Scholar

W'khan was shaken awake by the jostling of the wagon that carried him passing over rocks in the rough road. His body still ached but his mind was clear of the fever that had gripped it. Drifting Wind had been walking along side him, singing a jaunty tune in his native Roegadyn tongue. The blistering sun that beat down on W'khans face where he lay seemed to have little impact on the larger mans countenance. In fact, little had since they met. Sitting up straight, he threw the blanket from his frame and immediately noticed he was naked. Or, at least stripped to his skivvies; a thin undershirt and shorts.
"Oh, you're awake! That's great news, I was worried you'd sleep forever. Ehh, sorry about your clothes. Selling your earrings worked so well, I just figured you wouldn't mind me chartering us a wagon. And... since I worked so hard on your behalf, I thought I earned a drink too, ah hahah!"

W'khan was furious. The little had to start with was gone now, even the spear he had used to hunt food. Somehow he had to start fresh. A daunting enough task in it's own right, but now wherever he landed, he'd be an outsider and in a land so recently ravaged by calamity, and under threat of foreign occupation, it no doubt would make it all the more challenging of a prospect.

"You look angry... Don't worry friend, I will not abandon you. While I have no coin to give you, I have something better. I can connect you with the Adventurer's Guild leader in Gridania, where we're heading. She'll get you clothes and a bed. You're a lucky cat, and your luck will take you far. She might even have work for you there." It was just insults on top of optimism. W'khan genuinely couldn't tell if he hated Drifting Wind or not, but he was glad to at least be on the road.

Gridania didn't sound so bad. Certainly couldn't be worse than where he'd been.

First Astral Moon, Year of the Scholar

They arrived, finally. What had been a two days ride and turned into almost a weeks stop at checkpoints and garrisons. 'The Shroud' that's what they called the canopy of trees that covered the entire state. W'khan had never seen so much green, or felt such a cool breeze. It seemed perfect and he loved it instantly, but even here was no paradise. The threat of beastman, the Ixal in this case, seemed to be a universal problem. Worse here than in the desert. Raiding parties were an every day occurrence, and walking around the woods, you'd be more likely to find an armed platoon of Woodsmen than the famed local wildlife. He was told it would be the case less the farther away from the cities you got; but at the rate they'd been travelling it seemed like they'd never even make it there, much less any venture out into the woods.

Five days, but W'khan finally stood in the Adventurer's Guild.

First Umbral Moon, Year of the Scholar

'Mother something' That's what she introduced herself as. He couldn't remember, and they hadn't talked long. Luckily for Wkhan, clothing here wasn't as big of a luxury as it was out in the camps and it didn't take much persuasion to be given a coat and some boots. She was reluctant, however, to keep him around, though he couldn't understand why. He thought he had been perfectly flattering in the way he described his lust for her body. Regardless, she'd set him up with an introduction to The Smiths. A guild with a presence all over the continent that would outfit novice adventurers, assign them a mentor and send them on their way. A courtesy which W'khan at least was thankful for.

He was given no assignment, or hunting party however. Too many people had been killed recently. Some mysterious deep dungeon had opened up in the forest. 'The Palace of the Dead' they called it. It was all anyone would talk about. An underground labyrinth filled with monsters that killed almost anyone who entered. It was dangerous enough to scare the guild, but at least they outfitted him with some gear. If nothing else, the forest was an appealing prospect. Lush and green, W'khan was excited to explore it. Whatever bounty it held beneath it's boughs, he'd claim as he established his new life.


RE: Vespertine [closed] - Kat - 07-15-2017

The fifth sun of the first umbral moon, year of the Scholar, the sixth astral age.


W'xeii woke slowly with an almost irritated look donning her soft features. A look that didn't fit, but was all the same there, along with the scar and a smudge of soot that had haphazardly found its way to her left cheek. Hair in disarray, she clumped it together to pile it into a messy bun atop the crown of her head while squinting hues sought the details of her surroundings. Whatever keen observation skills she had learned through training under the Smiths felt useless in the Shroud, as the beasts kept their distance from her camp so long as she had sight of the main road. That didn't put her at complete ease, but it was as much reassurance as was expected when facing personal exile.

In that time, she thought of her father.

Perhaps he missed her. There wasn't any doubt that her expedition into the subterranean catacombs was a failure, but so long as she lived and breathed, she owed him solace. Had news reached him of her survival or was he left to wonder? As the youngest, she was both the perpetual baby of the family and the most closely monitored for success. She had seen her siblings fail and succeed in their endeavors; she learned their methods through observation. The trial and error had been done before she was allowed to stray from the tribe's comfortable borders - yet Xeii had made efforts to expand from the known lifestyles of her siblings and kin to aid the greater continent of Eorzea.

No... That wasn't true.

In actuality, she had ventured forth with personal glory in mind. Fuck the good and the noble and the just. She was an adventurer seeking renown and the favor of those around her, and in her infinite inexperience and hubris, she had fallen victim to the whims of the gods both old and new. Azeyma saw fit to allow her to live, but only so she might know this shame she harbored while left to the solitude of the trees. Light through the outstretched arms of the old oaks flooded her campsite as golden pillars, with one encroaching on her huddled position near the dying campfire. It all smelled of smoldering cedar and midday foliage, the wafting of the forest floor a menagerie of earthy scents that invaded her senses. A bit overwhelming at first, now she couldn't imagine an existence deprived of the lushness of the forest.

A child of the sands most at home in the forests she adopted. It made no sense. In thought, Xeii frowned and shifted to stand, her boots digging lightly into the spongy soil. Considering her options meant accepting she needed to move on from the humble camp she currently resided in, and for the most part, she was beginning to warm to the idea. At least, in the privacy of her thoughts, she was. Whether she would continue her ostracized lifestyle in the Shroud would be determined by how she fared with the addition of company.

During her quiet episode of personal reflection, W'xeii had noted the sounds of traversing steps. They weren't careful steps, after all. They were simply steps, and in their soft padding, they grew louder over the course of a moment or two. By the time the individual was visible through the bramble and fern, Xeii had readied her bow so that the person would be met with an informal assurance of hostility should their motives be anything unacceptable to the Miqo'te. Only her brow betrayed her feelings as her honey eyes locked on those of the passing male, twitching to furrow as her mask of impartial stoicism remained.

"...W'khan." It was direct, this acknowledgement, but her vocals quivered slightly. It was like seeing a ghost and were this even a day or two earlier, she would have blanched in her confusion. Now though, half awake and agitated by the heat and the myriad of self-deprecating thoughts she had considered commonplace as of late, Xeii felt there was only fact or fiction to address. Were he an illusion, he would dissipate before a full conversation came to pass. Despite this consideration, she knew better. A trial put forth by Azeyma to test her patience. As though things weren't bad enough...

Lowering her bow, W'xeii turned from W'khan's sudden appearance and tucked the arrow back into its quiver. "What a surprise."



RE: Vespertine [closed] - Scoot - 08-14-2017

W'khan hadn't really known what he was looking for. Riches, whatever that might look like. His fortune. In truth, anything that might restore his stolen pride. Some achievement that would set him apart, and above his new peers. He wasn't afraid of earning his favor at the tip of his lance, so this 'deep dungeon' that had claimed the lives of at least half a dozen other adventurers seemed like the perfect place to start. Everyone had heard about it, unfortunately details were kept pretty secret. The Smiths and the Wood Wailers were the only two groups who anything definitive and the Smiths wouldn't share out of concern for the safety of their novice adventurers, and the Wood Wailers refused to deal with outsiders. For now it seemed W'khan was on his own; left to himself, and his atrophied instincts.

For now all he could think about was food. The game here in the forest was so much different than what he was used to hunting. Setting traps and bait hadn't been working, not that he had the patience for such methods. Unfortunately he also didn't have the bow proficiency that would have also come in service. He was good enough in a fight, but helpless at taking care of himself. Perhaps in his mind the former hid the latter and compelled him forward on his hopeless quest without the necessary provisions on ego alone. The first bit of luck he'd seen since he left town. A campsite. And not far off the road, either. Food, hopefully, and somewhere to rest for a minute. As weary as Gridanians were of outsiders, adventurers kept a creed of their own, and W'khan was sure that his new host would be accommodating. He dared not think what other possibilities there were if that wasn't the case. He was pretty hungry, after all.

"What a surprise indeed." Of all the possibilities that ran through his mind, W'xeii had not been one of them, even though he had spent a considerable amount of time thinking about her since she left the tribe. He hadn't honestly expected to ever see her again, but if he did he imagined it'd look something like this; with him at the end of her bow. He offered his hands to her, palms out. A disarming gesture and was rewarded as she put her bow away. He had much he needed to say to her, maybe an apology, and just as many questions to ask. As hungry as he was, his pride wouldn't let him admit to someone he knew so intimately how incapable he was at something as simple as feeding himself.

The dried leaves cracked beneath his boots as he stepped carefully towards her, breaking the awkward silence the two had made. "Do you want me to relight that?" He said, motioning towards the fire as he again hesitantly moved closer. "I didn't know you were out here. I thought the Smith's stopped sending adventurers into the woods. That's why I'm out here anyway; looking for this hole that's got everyone so scared." He sighed an awkward sigh against her silence as he closed the distance between them. This close proximity was nothing they weren't used to, and though it felt different this time, in W'khans mind there was no reason that it should. He wanted her, and here he had her. Why did it need to be more complicated than that? Nevertheless, there was a game to play and its nuances weren't lost on him.

"If you don't want me here, I understand. I think we have a lot to talk about, but if you'd rather I just go, if you can at least tell me what you know about the Palace of the Dead."