Pursuit of the Crystals - A Final Fantasy RP [Game Thread]

[Drummodino]

D'khen's smile faltered briefly as Serena conjured a bright globe of water out of nothing, extending it towards him. Meeting the young Viera's eyes he felt a twinge of unease, he had a feeling that this girl wasn't as innocent as she appeared. There was something dangerous lurking behind those eyes.

"Aha, I think a potion would be more to more liking Miss Serena. No need to waste your energy summoning such concoctions." he said, trying to hide his discomfort. His head pounded as he pushed himself up and walked to the table, selecting a vial. Grabbing a seat he stretched himself out and took a swig.

"Oh yea that's good stuff." he sighed, swishing the liquid nonchalantly. "And yes my name is D'khen Tia, Zack Hewley." he said, looking to Zack and nodding slightly. "As for the airship well, some of our former cellmates were commandeering it. It seemed like fun so I thought I'd tag along, although if I'd known there was a bloody Esper onboard I would have stayed as far away as I could. I'm not too fond of lightning bolts in my face."

Downing the rest of the potion D'khen exhaled contentedly and placed the vial down. Thankfully the effects were already kicking in, his headache and pains were fading rapidly.

"So, what's going on?" he asked, glancing at Serena.

 

[SirDerpy]

"Aha, I think a potion would be more to my liking Miss Serena. No need to waste your energy summoning such concoctions."

Serena raised an eyebrow as the Miqo'te stood up and went to grab a potion off the medicine table, wondering-- 'Ah. I had forgotten. This was the one who could stomach a bag of moldy biscuits. No matter how bitter the potion, it's likely no match for his sense of taste.' The globule of water dissipated into a cloud of imperceptible nebulous crimson mist--her mana--which then returned to her reserves, soaking through the gloves into her palm. "As you wish. I'll not take responsibility for their flavor."

Popping open the cork, D'khen made himself comfortable in a chair across from her. Zack, for his part, seemed content with his spot on the uncomfortable-looking medical cot between the two. The Miqo'te began relating his airship adventures, which were quite dull; they were nothing that she couldn't infer from what she had seen and felt earlier.

Something that was rather more interesting came from outside the tent. Serena closed her eyes, sharpened her ears, and tuned them to the sound of the Lilty's voice once more. Most of what was said had been missed, but she caught the very last portion quite clearly, cursing under her breath.

"So, what's going on?"

D'khen called her attention back to the tent. Serena straightened out the grimace that had developed while eavesdropping, then turned to face Zack and D'khen, putting on her best neutral face as she began giving a habitually military report. The uniform probably helped.

"The Imperial force has been thoroughly routed, all put to flight or death. According to our dear Captain Kennedy out there, we are in Imperial territory, or close enough that the difference matters little. Despite this, he assures us that we are safe for the time being, under the wing of his little band of...rebels, I will call them. As D'khen knows, the airship and Esper have been...removed from our immediate concern. Kennedy would like to remind us that we are in a desert, and that we cannot and will not make it out alive without him. His proposal is thus: that we are to follow with him for a few more days as he returns to a village for resupply. There, we may choose to part ways, or continue to serve under his banner as he continues to do what he has been doing; whether he's truly opposing the Empire or simply robbing the civilians, I do not know."

Serena clicked her tongue in annoyance, shooting a glance out the tent flap. "I don't particularly care for either, so long as the Empire falls. What does D'khen and Zack think of the Lilty's plans?"

 

[TheIronRuler]

The scene which unfolded was quite surreal - Veltis stood staring at the monk dumbfounded, while Tuck made his exit from the tent. 'I will take your offer and head to the wasteland', Tuck turned to the captain before leaving the command-tent, 'May God judge you wisely'. He had nothing left to find in the tent - the rest being a bunch of opportunistic bastards and the odd idealistic idiot. He opted to take as much as he could from the camp before departing - they would soon resupply at an innocent farmer's home, taking what they required with force, and it was the least he could do to make some justice. At least that was what Tuck told himself while he was rummaging through dead people's belongings, looking for light and valuable knickknacks he could sell and a good bottle of whiskey. You can never have too many good bottles of whiskey. With that in mind, he was reminded of the best sort of medicine for sober mind was medicine itself - mostly based off alcohol, with the odd herb or two, he could certainly use some of it if he struck a sun-bathing serpent on his road to salvation. He slipped through the tent entrance, hoping to find only a handful of delusional injured soldiers, but was surprised to meet with his former cellmates. Tuck put on his most welcoming smile, and began to chuckle.

'How God puts us on the same path', he began, scanning the back of the tent for medical supplies, 'could be telling us to stay together', he shot a glance at Serena, who switched her outfit for something less torn. 'I liked your blouse better', Tuck tilted his head slightly to the side, looking straight at the sorcerer, 'it hung beautifully on you'.

'-and you two', Tuck took a slight bow as he introduced himself, 'You may call my Tuck, and I am a man of God'. He brushed past Serena and came closer to the medical cot where D'khen was sitting. 'You seem unwell', Tuck approached D'khen. The Monk deftly pulled a half-full bottle of good whiskey and handed it to him, 'nothing beats traditional medicine-', he chuckled, '-put your trust in the lord, and drink up'. D'khen grabbed the bottle and Tuck looked up from the sickly-looking fellow.

'I'm leaving shortly with anything I can carry', Tuck spoke in a hushed voice, his tone of voice taking a sharp turn to the serious and grim. 'These are bandits and brigands - deserters from the army we fought. The army that wiped out Havlor... I don't trust any of them. Come with me if you want to live...'. Tuck walked past the others and through the beds holding injured soldiers, stood staring at the vials and bottles of medicine at the other side of the tent and thought of which was more important than the other. He had limited space, and most of it was reserved for the drink of the gods - mead.

 

[UnusualStranger]

Roderic had decided to make himself rather scarce after the particular event, not intending to stick around with either group, esper or otherwise, if he had a say in it. Wandering back into the basecamp was easy enough, as he posed no threat, and sneaking in a bit further proved even less an issue, allowing himself to now freely lounge around. Which included going through what fools had ended up dead in the meantime, collecting whatever he felt would be useful in this land. Money, knives, and anything else that he might consider valuable and easy to carry.

It was quick and simple work, as Roderic could tell at a glance who might possibly have something, and who would not. Work as a thief meant that if you couldn't choose a target alive and dead, you were barely worth your weight in the world. Roderic collected enough things to be satisfied, and then began to walk along the tents. There wasn't much to go over and do, so as he wandered he heard something halfway familiar.

".....I'd known there was a bloody Esper onboard I would have stayed as far away as I could. I'm not too fond of lightning bolts in my face."

Roderic couldn't help but chuckle at the fun that they had just survived. It was quite the mess that they had left behind, and one of which he was proud to have helped create. It would be in good form to wish the wandering dragoon well before he began to head on off. Besides, seemed a few others were enjoying a bit of relaxation.

"D'khen! Good to see you didn't bite the dirt in that small fiasco. Ya look...like hell, but hey ya look like you can still walk. Figured I would wave ya off before I got to heading out. People around here are just too insane for me, and that can be bad for your health." Roderic said, noting the end of Serena's report about how they wouldn't survive.

"Heh, obviously thinks we've never spent a night outside before...never seen a desert either. Such a silly shame. Guess I'll take a good drink to that while I leave the crazy bastards behind, and good riddance to their war and their...whatever the hell."

 

[Malbourne]

A steady feeling of trepidation began sneaking its way into the back of Gojo's mind. Through the twinge of the hangover he attempted to piece together all of the events that had apparently transpired just a short time ago.

"When we found your ship, we had also found the Esper inactive. Someone in your crew must have been controlling it but he must be dead, otherwise it wouldn't be here. As for it suddenly attacking... well I'm no mage but I would think that was because of the Esper's inherent nature."

I hate Espers. The stuff of nightmares, from what he could tell of the stories his clan passed around in his childhood. He'd never seen one before, and he hoped that wouldn't change today. Things that could rip a ship in half, apparently.

"The nearest settlement from where we are is I would guess a good ten days here on foot, and the airship you were in is in dire shape. I could spare you what supplies I have for that trek, but it's still a long way and I doubt that you would make it in this desert."

That sounded a bit like strong-arming, now. The Bangaa sneered; he could respect that. The Lilty continued filling the rest in on a bit more background information. Whatever the case was, it seemed Gojo and many others had simply been caught in the crossfire of some twisted war.

"Do you have any other questions?"

A couple of questions, a couple of answers, all of them unfit for courteous discourse, Gojo thought to himself. He cleared his throat and straightened his messy tunic. "Weel, Ah know from pers'nal 'sperience that fightin' in a war you were invited to gets ye an early medal or an early grave." He folded his arms and stared at the Lilty, his good eye probing Kennedy for hesitance. "Ah think all mah trophies were obliterated along with mah home, an' Ah'm not in th'mood to gamble on the other option. But if'n it's a choice 'tween living oot who-knows-how-many years at a settlement in the sticks, Ah'd rather pal up with ye. Not to mention," he added, affectionately patting the head of his war hammer, "Ah'm furious when somebody leaves me out of a guid scrap."

Gojo curled his claws around the haft of the weapon, his teeth bared in an eager grin. "So just tell it to me plain: who do Ah hit?"

 

[Khedive Rex]

Percy for his part did not have questions. He didn't feel a strong pull toward answers in his day to day life to begin with, so often knowing more only makes a person more bitter, more cold. Percy knew what asking questions would do to this moment, muddle it with grey brown soil, taint the clarity; who really can claim the moral high ground working with rebel airship pirates plotting to betray an empire? Only those who are truly and completely righteous. Knowing more of the flaws and foibles of this crew would certainly hinder Percy's sense of righteousness and so his ignorance would mark him as holy, in the same manner as his servitude.

"For my part ...-COUGH-... It would be better to accompany your soldiers than to be left in a strange village. I do not believe that my artes will serve the good of the villagers in the way it will serve the good of your cause..." Percy's gaze seemed to extend twenty feet while his face paled, as though there were a memory he loathed stalking the space behind Kennedy. He swallowed through a dry palette and his eyes darted once more into contact with The Captain.

"Is it time to go?" Percy said, recollection painting the tone of his voice to something from his own childhood, the timber of a lad who has seen death and undeath in all it's power. He doubted very much that anyone should take notice, because no one knew. Those words, they had been the last thing he said before abandoning his first homeland. Now they rang again as he prepared to abandon his second, and the space under his ribs ached. He gripped his staff tightly in his dry and aged hand running his thumb down the familiar inch of wood it had smoothed nervously through the decades. He examined the crowd of convicts once and wondered briefly what he was doing.

It took Percy almost no time to feel the answer land upon his psyche, the force of the impact pushing all else away in a great tidal wave that left his ocean calm, flat and readied. "I go to do the only thing I know I can do. I will save lives."

"I will save lives..."