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

[Malbourne]

The Red Mage had left the friar and the Bangaa to look for supplies. Gojo imagined it would have made for awkward conversation if he and Tuck had nothing to discuss besides Serena or booze, and he certainly wasn't going to dull his taste for whatever the Viera managed to scrounge up. With a crude apology Gojo left Tuck in the tent the small group had commandeered and walked in the direction opposite Serena's.

Battle appeared more distant now than ever before, but perhaps it was merely because he was beginning to tune out the fighting. Unusual, Gojo mused, given that it had been more than ten years since he'd been on the field. A body ne'er forgets, he decided, kneeling by a water trough behind one of the regiment tents. After splashing his face in a half-hearted attempt to wash away the grime and grit of battle, the Bangaa straightened. There was an ache in his spine again, but it was...different from the ones he usually felt, the ones that plagued him when he was waking from bed.

There was a brief commotion from inside the tent; something clanged against the ground and a light rattling could be heard. Curious, Gojo grabbed the tent flap and tore a clean hole with his sharp claws. What looked like a fuzzy rodent squeaked and bolted from the tent, a sock clenched in its fangs. The Bangaa shook his head. It was a Mu, probably a pet one of the rank-and-file soldiers had stowed in his gear. Gojo didn't particularly care for the beasts.

He more closely inspected the luggage the Mu had been ransacking: there was the second sock of the pair, a silk specimen with frills. No way that could fit a grown man. Gojo plucked it and tossed it aside.

There was a watch, brass and broken, if that minute hand was any indication. And the large crack down the center of the frame. And the missing knob. And the missing hour hand. He tossed the faulty timepiece aside as well.

There was a leatherbound diary, emblazoned in silver with the words, "Secret: Don't Open." Gojo obliged and chucked it over his shoulder. He proceeded to unload the rest of the contents of the lockbox merely to satisfy his curiosity. Hidden at the bottom of the rest of the sentimental knick-knacks, however, he glimpsed a shine of metal. The knight eagerly batted an obstructing slipper away and lifted an obsidian-forged gauntlet.

It was...beautiful. The ridges on the knuckles designed to protect bone, allow structure, and injure enemies were so well-wrought that he almost would've believed a professional had designed the knucklejoints alone. The fingers were immaculately molded. Gojo tested the glove and found, to his surprised delight, that his claws fit perfectly. This almost seemed to be a gauntlet forged for a Bangaa. The sheath went up half the length of his forearm, carved in a dazzling motif of a raven, its beak edged as both protection and offense near his elbow. The palm was fitted with grooved metal; there was almost no chance of his hammer slipping from his grasp. But as he clenched his claws, he realized the gauntlet alone made for a comfortable yet dangerous weapon all on its own.

The Bangaa flexed his fingers several more times, awed by the beauty of the craftsmanship. He felt horrible, sneaking a look at somebody's prized possession like this. Was it alright to take a gauntlet that appeared so valuable?

A tag fell from the arm-sheath. Gojo squinted and held it up to the light. "Missing the left gauntlet. Broker said it was worth 4,000 gil. Will try to haggle 4,400."

He left the tent, snapping the tag from the gauntlet and tossing it in the water basin. Mayhaps the Viera had found something delicious to serve as they discussed current events? It would be a good way to cap off the battle.

[hr]

"It appears that some of our cellmates have managed to hijack a ship and anger an obscenely powerful magical beast," Serena called over her shoulder as she began making her coffee. "So, thoughts?"

"Ah noticed ye din't bring a change o'clothes fer us," Gojo commented, examining every millimeter of the gauntlet. "But Ah s'pose Ah'd hafta provide measurements, 'n slim chance o'findin' a coat fer a Bangaa with a crooked back like mine."

A twinge in his shoulder distracted him from the appetizing smell of coffee. Gojo rubbed his bandaged shoulder. It'd been a while since he'd felt an injury like this one, since he'd experienced a rush of euphoria and battle-frenzy. It was a surprise he'd managed to get back into the flow of combat given how long ago he'd swung his hammer at something other than molten metal.

It felt...good. It felt really, really good to fight again. Gojo sighed contentedly. His whole body was swathed in bandages like he was some sort of mummified corpse, but there was still blood running through his old veins. Not much after the wounds took their toll, but he still had enough.

"Et seems our friends haf bin busy, but a Bangaa ain't made fer airships. Mehbe we should wait 'til they come doon and share a piece o'that beastie?"

Spoiler: OOC

Yay, I love new equipment! This obsidian-steel gauntlet will definitely make knightly duties easier.

 

[TheIronRuler]

First it was the delicious looking mage who went out for a spin around the camp looking for spoils of war, and then it was his older companion who left him alone. The life of a hermit monk was filled with solitude and innder reflection - but he wasn't such a monk. He was a preacher and a man of god, a most honorable calling - which pulled him even closer to where Serena was going, his senses driving him mad at the thought. Tuck elegantly followed Serena from behind, staying back when she entered a large tent. He peeped inside through a hole made by a stray arrow. What he saw inside was glorious.

They were gloves, simple looking leather studded gloves at first sight - but inside a web of mail and enchanted threads reinforced them. Tuck theorized they were strong enough to withstand a blade-and indeed they were. The gloves were fire-proof, and provided insulation against the cold. It was truly a gift from heaven - light cherry vodka greeted him on the same table the gloves were on, inside a locked box. On the outside the gloves were painted - long and thin blue veins going theough the arm, sinews extending at the effort - showing real hands. The hands of a beliver, to fight with the hand of God.

[hr] 2 [/hr]

Tuck leered at Serena as she approached with a brand new outfit, tight fitting military garb fit for an officer. Tuck regretted her discarding of the previously torn clothes, having lost an interesting outlook on life. She handed them two bottles with a warm greeting. There was something there about an airship, but Tuck didn't mind any of that.

'Your clothes have changed', Tuck smiled at her, a warm fatherly embrace, 'I thought you were depleted of mana, yet you managed three water spells...did you find an ether?'. He was wearing his gloves, seemingly infused in his arm. A new bottle of cherry vodka was hidden in his robes. He mixed the lemon-sprite and rum together, and then handed a bottle to Gojo. He opened the vodka and offered it to Serena - 'It's sweet, like you'. The three of then sat around the kettle while it boiled and a fresh pot of coffee was made. Old stoties along the campfire, and a hearty laugh from a couple of good friends. Just like in the old days.

 

[UnusualStranger]

Roderic grinned as the ship took off. It had been a while since he had had a chance to do this again. Though, as they went up quickly to get away from the danger of below, he felt the entire ship shudder from what he instantly knew was the idiotic plan in action. Which also meant that there was likely going to be a very angry Esper stomping around, or blasting its way off the ship. He hoped for the best, but at this point imagined that the idiots stored the damned thing inside the ship in the middle. The piercing shriek was enough to confirm his problems.

"Ladies and gents, instead of my flying, I am quite sure that was our captor's being idiots that caused that shake. So....expect something rather angry to come along soon!" Roderic announced, checking what gauges he was most worried about. Everything seemed to be holding mostly steady. He wasn't happy knowing that most of the ship was blasted, but at least they were still in the air. It was terribly frustrating at this point. Blowing up Espers? These folks were mad, and he would rather put as much distance as possible between himself and them.

"Maybe next time we'll be taken prisoner by a bunch of insane mages instead! At least we can expect something like this from them! Anyone got any particular plans? I was just gonna go for....those mountains over there. Mountain towns tend to be a bit on the quiet side..." Roderic turned the topic to an almost conversational tone, as if this was some kind of regular occurrence.

Hell, at this point it might as well be a regular occurrence. Survived some...death knows what, fighting things that are not themselves, taken prisoner, set free, stealing an airship, and now likely going to kick an Esper off of the ship. At this point, I might as well start throwing magic around and call myself a damned hero....Naaah, too much grandstanding.

"However, I don't think this ship is as....fast as it used to be, with the ruckus downstairs. So, we might not make it that far. Especially if our newly awakened guest decides that they want to be a distraction...Course, unless you would rather fight it, I just....gotta make sure we stay still in the air, cause no way am I setting this thing to drift in any damn direction. Thoughts, concerns, and whatever else ya got for yourself say it now, or I'll take us to the ground so we can just run from the damn thing once we hopefully grind it into the earth."

 

[Neuromancer]

Zack was caught off guard both by the Imperial's words and the Dragoon's charge, barely blocking a strong thrust with his shield and, thanks to his insticts, avoiding having the second spear pierce through his head, leaving him with a shallow cut on his left cheek.

Ducking and rolling over to the Dragoon's exposed left side, Zack found himself behind his opponent and slashed twice, first through his shoulder and then at the back, blood gushing through the wounds. No one could survive such injuries and be in a fighting condition, and thus Zack started to let his guard down, only then noticing a sword sticking through his opponent's left side.

Before he could connect the dots, though, the Dragoon turned at him and, with a roar, lunged at Zack with his right spear. Though the blow was blocked, the surprise left Zack wide open, unable to evade the Dragoon's left spear thrust.

Pain flared under Zack's left shoulder blade, his eyesight turning blurry for a second. Fuelled both by anger and pain, Zack lashed out with a heavy slash, cutting the Dragoon's left arm off. The Dragoon, in retaliation, runned his right spear through Zack's left side.

He felt himself losing control. In a move fuelled by desperation, Zack pinned his sword to the ground and grabbed the spear before the Dragoon could withdraw it from the wound and, raising his shield over it, broke the shaft with a downward bash. Tossing the spearhead aside, Zack grabbed his sword and pierced it through the Dragoon's stomach and quickly pulled it out, leaving him to fall on his knees. Pulling out the sword stuck on the Dragoon's left side with his shield hand, Zack beheaded him with a double swing from both swords.

With his opponent hopefully dead, Zack fell on the ground, pain vibrating through his body. Using his last potion, he lay down. His wounds would be healed soon enough, but it would take him a longer time to recuperate from the pain and the exhaustion caused by his exertion.

Judicator... Not yours... The words echoed through his head. Was the Imperial talking about Mediator? Why call it Judicator, and why was it not his? Zack pondered on the meaning of those words, and the words said beforehand. One thing was certain. If he was to get any answers, he needed to get the Imperial somewhere safe, where he could interrogate him without fear of disturbances. That, and that the Litly was hiding much, much more than at first glance.

 

[Drummodino]

D'khen grinned as the airship eased into the air, finally they were getting out of here. 'Looks like things are picking up,' he thought, looking out at the battlefield below. Then the explosions started

"Oh for heaven's sake!" the Miqo'te cried, stumbling and falling to the deck as the shipped rocked and heaved. Eventually it steadied and continued its ascent, albeit more slowly then before. Pushing himself up with his spear he headed for the cabin door, listening to Roderic's announcement.

"...So, we might not make it that far. Especially if our newly awakened guest decides that they want to be a distraction..."

'Awakened guest? Now that can't be good.'

"...Course, unless you would rather fight it, I just...."

'I'd really rather not frankly...'

"...I'll take us to the ground so we can just run from the damn thing once we hopefully grind it into the earth..."

"I say that sounds like a fine strategy!" he yelled into the air, no idea whether or not the Elezen could hear him or not. Jogging through the halls of the ship he came to a fork and paused. Picking a path at random he hurried down, looking for the way up to the cabin.

He really should have gone the other way. Turning the corner the sight of the enormous Esper caused him to skid to a halt, goggling at the sight. The bolt of lightning flung his way got him moving again quickly, scurrying back the way he came as a roar and the sounds of pursuit raced after him.

"Oi knife-ears, we got a problem down here! Get this ship grounded now, I can't do jack in these cramped hallways!"

 

[SirDerpy]

The soothing bubbling of the coffee offset the distant clangor of the battlefield. The vitalizing aroma pervaded the tent, filling it with a smell strong enough to combat the stench of sweat, dried blood, and other powerful odors. Gojo swigged Tuck's mixture, juice running along his snout, and sighed contentedly. He rubbed the obsidian gauntlet on his dirt-stained outfit.

"Ah'm gonna hafta find a guid uniform 'fore long, too." The Bangaa deftly intercepted Tuck's offer of vodka and chased the sprit with the booze. Another sigh. Gojo paused, peering at the vodka thoughtfully. "Commotion above us, hell beneath." He snorted and offered the vodka to Serena as she took her seat. "What be'er time tae tell some nice stories?"

Serena poured herself a small cup of coffee. Then, after a moment of thinking, she topped off another two mugs that they had scrounged somewhere. Variety was the spice of life, after all. Gliding over to the table, she set a steaming mug in front of each of them, then took Tuck's gift from Gojo's outstretched claws, setting down the fine-looking vodka on the middle of the table as she sat. That could wait until later, when Tuck was not around.

She pointedly ignored his remark about her pseudo-shower.

Taking a sip of the richly aromatic liquid, Serena glanced around at the tent they had appropriated for the time being. It was rather spacious for a private tent; it probably belonged to an officer, given the rudimentary stove and table, complete with rough-hewn utensils. The half-light of the sky outside illuminated almost nothing of the tent, but that was fine, too. It came with a lamp, set in the centre of the table. The muted sounds of war and an occasional magic-infused roar were carried in, but aside from that particular annoyance, it was peaceful, isolated. The feeling of being in your own world, sitting inside by the roaring fire and looking out the window while the world raged and stormed and tried to drown itself.

Serena took another sip. "Yes, it is indeed the most perfect time for stories. I regret to say, though, that I have few. The curse of the young and such." She smiled as she set the mug down. "But what of you? Tuck? I am certain that both of you had to have lived a rather adventurous life; that any can see from your appearances alone. And one has to wonder where a man of the cloth has learned to slay, or why a Bangaa who ought to be whiling his time away with his grandchildren has decided to enlist on this grand adventure."

There was a loud snap, and a series of similar ones followed. The monk extended his neck, raised his head and leaned backwards as he stretched his back, and rocked the whole tent in response. He held his breath for what seemed like two whole minutes and then exhaled, and inhaled deep breaths. Tuck tilted his head at the sight of the half full bottle of cherry vodka, violently grabbed it off the table and gulped half of its contents. He smashed it back on the table and then proceeded to tilt his head to the right all the way, again the snaps returned - and then the other way around.

Tuck laid back, reached for his rolled ciggie on top of his left ear and smiled the widest grin when he heard a crumple. He put it between his two meaty lips, lit it with a match from his box, and inhaled. Tuck sucked the stick dry, letting all of the smoke in, then pulled away the cigarette and exhaled. At first it was a slow-moving ring of smoke, lazily moving up and slowly dissipating, then more rings came out to accompany it.

'I kept my word', Tuck was elated. He enjoyed his cigarette immensely, probably more to do with today's events than the ciggie itself. 'Aye, the memories of yesterday. Always coming back to haunt us', he stared at Serena for a moment as if he knew something, then turned to Gojo, 'you must have many'.

Tuck sucked his cigarette again, filling the tent with his smoke. 'A man of god relies on the protection of the lord...', Tuck picked up a piece of discarded plate armor near his feet and put it on the table. He clenched his right hand and held it up, '...but only those who help themselves receive help from our lord. So I had to learn...', Tuck stopped and took a shallow breath, then held it in. His hand opened, and he jammed it forward, snapping the armor and breaking it in half, '...how to defend myself and do God's work'.

Tuck's smoke mingled with the smell of coffee, filling Gojo's head with a light, funny feeling. "Defend is...an interestin' word for it, aye?" He couldn't count the number of times he'd had somebody worth defending, and now those still alive he could measure on one claw.

How did such an easy-going man like Friar Tuck come about the techniques of the monks? Doubtless some ladyfolk he felt obliged to defend, lecherous oaf that he was. As long as he could fight, that was all that mattered to the Bangaa. Still, there was one thing that nagged at the old knight...

"Tuck," he murmured. "Et's always been said that th'righteous fight th'most bloodily, at least by mah clan. Ah've seen more'n mah fair share o'blood, t'be shoor, an' lived longer 'n most o'mah kin. I dinnae see what makes ye so special."

The Bangaa felt a bit whoozy and clapped a hand to his forehead. "Mm, sorry. Got a li'l head-rush, there." The pains in his shoulder started to flare up again, and he slowly sat down, curling his aching tail around one of the chair's legs.

Gojo took a steady breath and reached for the cherry vodka, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his mind that warned him against mixing his drinks. "Ah do apologize, Tuck, Serena. Ah'm not too guid a listener. Ye kin...go on wit' yore story, if'n ye don't mind."

Serena finished her coffee, planting the mug back down onto the table with a dull clunk. She eyed the bottle of vodka as Gojo took another long drink. It looked pleasant-very much so-and at this rate, she wouldn't be getting any of it. Drunkards. She relieved Gojo of the bottle as he finished, about a third full. Swishing the liquid around thoughtfully for a second, Serena decided that Gojo was enough of a deterrent. She let a stream of the sweet, fiery liquid flow down her throat, burning her insides. Then she set the nearly-emptied bottle back into the middle.

It was certainly delicious, if choking. Serena took a few deep breaths, felt the air flood into her lungs and the smoke, into her head, seemingly content to cloud things up. She blinked a few times.

"Of course you jest. Priests in need of defense turn to white magic, not their fists. Unless," Serena leaned forward over the table. "You have found that your art of combat agreeable above all else."

Then a thought struck her, and a smile appeared on her face. Chances for stories like these didn't happen often. "Tell us, Tuck, for you seem used to the bloody slaughter on the fields. Tell us about the first man you sent to greet the heavens above, won't you?"

There was a pause when Tuck tried to speak. The words wouldn't leave his mouth on their own. First the old knight teased him, and then the sorceror spoke of delivering death like it was easier than breathing. It was odd company - they were both accustomed to the underworld and have taken many lives, but they have done it for the wrong reasons. They have felt joy in the death of another. There was no happiness in death. The fight itself, on the other hand, was an entirely different beast.

Serena nearly finished what was left of the cherry vodka on the table, and Tuck smashed the butt of his cigarette on the wooden table. The smoke rose above them and twirled in the tent, making way for shapes like clouds in the sky of Havlor. The thought occured to him that three of them they will never see that land again.

'Death is not mine to give', Tuck spoke slowly, furrowing his brow and suddenly appearing serious, 'It is only through God's judgement that I deliver it'. He threw the piece of broken armor aside and it clattered on the ground. His eyes darted between Serena and Gojo. 'I love the thrill of battle. The smell of bravery and shit mixed together with sweat and blood. It's more intoxicating than any of my concoctions'. Tuck leaned forward, his eyes staring directly at Serena. 'The first man I killed was not in a battle, and before I learned how to fight. It was before they took me away, and gave me a name. Six years, perhaps even seven, taking breath in a world that treated me like shit. Do you want to hear of the joys of death? I was the judge and the executioner then. Every day and every night I came to the same man when he slept and stole his bread. He was an old man, and he never felt I was coming for him. Every day that passed I grew stronger and he grew weaker, until a day passed when he didn't wake up. I murdered that man. He was my first. He was not my last'.

Tuck stopped and calmed himself. It was hard to speak about the old days. All he ever wanted to do was forget, but the lord will keep tormenting his soul for his sins. 'You like it. I can tell', he pointed at Serena accusingly.

The Red Mage blinked and sat up a bit straighter. The smoke seemed thicker now. She took another draw from the bottle of vodka, a blush on her cheeks. Finding that it was suddenly empty, she drew up a bottle of rum, setting it in the center of the table. Then she focused on Tuck.

"I see. Tuck, let me ask you something, do you like to gamble?" Without waiting for an answer, Serena leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands lazily, continuing. "My father was very fond of it, as I recall, but my mother managed to keep in check...most of the time." She smiled as three silhouettes lazed around a warm hearth, one smacking the other with a rolled-up paper, all of them laughing...then her face returned to neutral. "But I hated it. And I still hate it. To put what you have at the mercy of fickle Dame Fortune, I consider to be infinitely foolish. But..."

"Battle is much like a gamble. The stakes are your lives, and the game, deadly beyond measure. One mistake, and you might well lose everything. But, do you know, I love winning a gamble. There is nothing greater than the feeling of victory, of foolishly putting everything on the line, yet coming out on top. The knowledge that you have taken from your opponent more than they could have ever taken from you is sublime. It is the ultimate insult, the most grand thievery you could commit. I have fallen in love with it, and I will admit that much."

"And I will say this: I hold the value of a life above all else. Little is more rare, more precious. It is because it's precious that it is worth taking, and it is because it's precious that it is worth protecting." Serena paused for a moment, a troubled frown crawling across her face and into her eyes as the memories came back, jumping for the opportunity. "Do not misunderstand me, though. Once upon a time, I fancied myself judge and executioner. I...I judged poorly. Rather, I didn't judge at all."

"I took pleasure from the act even then, but the debt of pain that I ought to have taken followed me. I...I take back my earlier words." Serena sighed, closing an eye. "That day, years ago, he took from me an entire world, something that I thought to be forever, and I lost something I could and would never have dared to put on the line. So I decided then that I was too blind to judge. I play the executioner, and others' clearer eyes may judge for me."

She took a fortifying swig of the rum. "So you and I, we are much alike, Tuck. As God uses you to carry out his judgment, so do my superiors use me. We may derive our pleasure differently, but in the end, it matters little; we've both blood on our plate, and it matters not whether you are the chef or the connoisseur."

Then she passed the bottle of rum to Gojo.

Remnants of the rum swished about the bottle as Gojo stared at the pale glass absentmindedly. Serena had quite a thirst for such a petite lady. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat. "Ah've ne'er taken bread from an old man, nor have I outwitted a simpleton in a game o'chance." He hesitated, images of his clan flying unbidden to the front of his mind. "Consider et the fortune of a Bangaa who grew up wit' two parents. Ah learned the finer arts o'smithin'...and the bloodier crafts o'swordplay." As more memories began to wash over him, consuming his thoughts, he dropped the bottle to the ground gently. It rolled a foot and came to rest, rum sloshing out of the mouth, under the table.

"Ye take things fer granted," he continued in a low, hoarse monotone. "It seems...good to kill. Not fer profit, fer food, fer safety, fer shelter, even fer kin. Just fer...honor, or somesuch. Ah had the luxury of idealism when Ah was a pup." The Bangaa recalled the way he and his friends would laugh after a skirmish with one of the other clans. Probably the Grajgi family. What a bunch of uptight pricks. But it was really the elders that were the pricks, weren't they? That lass, the one with the ruby eyes and the soft cobalt face, she wasn't that uptight...His claw went to his unseeing eye, unconsciously rubbing the cloth that covered the useless socket. "Ye lose many things, and still think ye have the world at yer feet. Musta lost count how many times Ah laughed and felt mah sword bite into the bodies of mah foes. Never really considered Ah'd lost somethin' afore I'd e'er started a fight."

He let his claw fall to his side again, and he squinted at the empty space on the wall between his two compatriots. "Mehbe...Mehbe it was just somethin' I were never born with. That compassion fer takin' a life, I s'pose." Gojo snorted. "Not to say I ever regretted mah time spent fightin'. That was when I lived. But there was always a mess afterwards."

It felt...unsettling...to walk away from a battle with regrets, with heartache. With anything besides elation, really. That image of his father standing in the middle of the river, his arm a bloody stump, and yet nothing on his face ? not agony, not pain, not fear ? but a fierce pride. And his feet awash with blood...

"We completely annihilated another clan, long ago. 'Twas after Ah came upon mah twentieth nameday and forged mah first bastard sword. Ah was so eager to test it oot..." She hadn't expected death that day. Why would she? All her life had been spent learning how to battle, to hate the Eremel clan-

It wasn't until Gojo felt blood running down his snout that he realized he'd been picking at a closed wound above his nose all this time. "Ah thought I much preferred the anvil. But after today..." He sniffed, ignoring the rivulet of blood as it stained the floor. "Now, Ah'm not so sure a part o'me doesn't want to return to the field."

He fell silent, watching the smoke dance to and fro in entrancing patterns across the ceiling.

 

[UnusualStranger]

"Oi knife-ears, we got a problem down here! Get this ship grounded now, I can't do jack in these cramped hallways!"

"THOUGHT YOU WOULD NEVER ASK!" Roderic said, laughing almost maniacally as he shoved the lever forward, causing the propellers that once pushed them upward now getting them to go forwards and downwards. The wind practically whistled as the airship made its sudden descent, and Roderic was grinning all the way. He didn't really think this would take him out, but if it did he could at least know an Esper would go down with him.

"WELCOME TO EARTH, YA MYSTICAL BASTARD!" Roderic taunted the creature, shouting as the ship hurtled into the ground, slamming into the earth and doing a real bang up job on the bottom of the ship. As the ship slammed into the ground, it simply began to slide, creating a hole in the earth as it skidded along, obviously not ready for such a trip as the bottom of the ship gave way from the impact and tore apart. As it skimmed more and more of the bottom of the ship off, it would eventually take the floor with it, and with the rest of the ship trying to press down to crushing the Esper underneath as well.

Sliding for a distance further, Roderic could only hang on as the ship slid and bumped and slammed and in a few instances bounced off of some of the thicker trees which had withstood more things in their years, and would survive the airship too. If this thing survived all this...well, perhaps a few knives would finish it off all the same. Especially as some explosives went off, sending an extra jolt through the ship as a third beating being its last hurrah. Roderic considered that it was fitting for the ship too as it took down an Esper, figuring most didn't get that kind of claim when they were junked.

As the ship finally ground to a halt, rocking to a final halt and leaning against the few trees that had finally slowed it to its final resting place, with flames, broken wood, steels and all other parts a path of destruction behind them and a reasonable distance from the camp and forces, as Roderic had no plans on crashing into them to have to deal with more problems than he wanted at this point.

"Heh....hah...hah...ha...Hows....hows the survivors doing?" Roderic asked shakily, finally pulling himself off of the controls that he had to hold on to tightly as they had been slamming into the ground and everything else around it to both deal with the problem underneath, and also to lose anyone who might have planned on surviving and taking over the ship later. And probably anything else anyone had planned, since the ship could....technically still fly. If the engine and everything could be moved, or reattached...or something. It was good enough flight for him though, and since he would walk away from it, that worked.

 

[Doc Gnosis]

The airship that the party was held in - the Gallione putting the data together - took off to pursue the other ship. After that things had begun to settle down on the ground as the very last of the Grandallese host was killed. A massive bolt of jade lightning struck the field from the Imperial ship as well as the sight of the ship crashing to the ground, but those were the only incidents that occurred. The officers signaled to the others that they?re done and that it was time to fall back to the camps.

The gradual clatter and murmur of the other Browns became more prevalent. Lots of them were clutching loot and gil that they certainly didn't have before the Grandallese host. Some of the folk were looking for survivors to bring back, or wave them over depending on how they were holding up; for example they had found two mages - one black and white shooting the breeze.

One particular Moogle - a blue and white one wearing brown, covered in grease with only a red bow around her head as any indication of her gender - caught a glimpse of the party in the tent and started shouting at them. She must have smelled the coffee boiling...

"Hey! Nobody's supposed to know of my stores! *kupo* Please get out! You're going to get me in *kupo* trouble if the captain finds out!"

The Moogle didn't seem to notice what else the party had procured, and simply hurried them out, tugging at the Viera's arm the whole time in an attempt to get the message across. When that did not work, the Moogle left the tent for a while before bringing with her many more Moogles and a human to expedite them leaving.

"Sorry about this... *kupo*" The Moogle said, suddenly acting contrite.

Spoiler: Option

You can ask the Moogle any questions you have in mind if you wish. Or say nothing. Or try to extort him.

[hr]

The Esper roared again as jade lightning snaked through every wall and floor his form touched. He turned to the makeshift view he had created, and saw a crowd of beings. Adrammelech scoffed at this challenge, but seeing it rude to ignore them the Esper shot a large bolt of lightning in their general direction. Whether they live or die was of little consequence to the Wroth Emperor, but a hard lesson had to be established.

[color=437C17]"For far too long has this farce lasted!!"[/color]

He gave another shriek as he snaked through the corridors; the sudden altitude drop barely slowing his pursuit compared to the cramped space. From the Gallione the crew could see a luminescent green glow coming from the ship, marking the Wroth's position from far away. The descent the Imperial ship travelled set off alarm bells in the crew?s head, and they had kept their distance in case it would explode or if the Esper was going to pop out.

The scout ship hit the ground and left the ground shaking from the sheer impact. More explosions followed, and the sudden expulsion of magic and lightning from far away. Then came silence until the crew on the Gallione landed and checked the wreckage. They saw the escapees' handiwork; the bodies of the Grandallese captives mangled by sword, bludgeon and magic. They had also noticed Chopp, who looked to be unconscious, but otherwise fine. "Should've known..." One of the crew had commented on seeing the Seeq.

The crew would eventually find the survivors, rescuing them from the wreckage before bringing them back to their ship. They found no trace of Adrammelech in the ship; the impact and the explosions must have been enough to dispel his form. Sadly one of the party didn't quite survive the crash; they had chose to bury her in a small grave before returning. The survivors they moved to the closest they had to a medical ward in their ship, conscious or otherwise. It was hard to say if someone was well with a crash that large, not to mention and Esper prowling within.

[hr]

The sun was at its peak when the Gallione returned to the field with the survivors in hand - including Chopp. Plenty of the crew there believed the Seeq to be responsible for hi-jacking the ship and voiced their opinion that he be held in the brig or what claim he had be reduced.

"I'll deal with the Seeq later." Kennedy had addressed before heading off to find the party Their location was close to the tents where the wounded from Halvor were stationed. Some of those refugees were well enough, and were all but directed to the front of the camps, same as the party. It was there where the crew had directed the party to converge, either by a pack of Moogles or by others' insistence. The escapees from the now wrecked scout ship were also brought in the same area as well.

There were at least eight others besides the party; three humans, three Viera, a Gria, and a Mithra; judging by their uniforms they must have been Halvorian soldiers. All of them kept a neutral face, preparing for an extortion.

The Lilty's charges couldn't find everybody; some had simply disappeared with no sign or trace. He shook off the frown forming on his face before returning his gaze back to the party. Their eyes go to the party with their eyes betraying their surprise at seeing some familiar faces.

"I was hoping that you would all make it out in one piece, that you would be looking out for one another." The captain had a hint of grief in his words before turning his gaze to the other group of survivors, but his eyes went back to the party in between his words.

"Compared to any other gang out here you had the best chance of survival with us. We look after our own, which is more than I can say for others. Any other crew would've taken your ship and thrown you over the side... We're in very interesting times you know; anyone with enough people or weapons trying to take what power they can get before the Empire solidifies its hold on this land. All you an do now is band together with the nearest people in order to survive."

The Lilty grew saddened at his words. The neutral expressions on a few of the soldiers - the Gria and one of the Viera - dropped to something grave along with eyebrows raised in confusion. They were expecting him to say more, but something else had made itself present before Kennedy could resume.

His eyes lingered on the familiar set of clothes the Viera was wearing, his lip tightening ever-so slightly.

"Where did you get those clothes?" He had asked her. The Halvorian soldiers looked towards Serena with the same question burning in their head.

 

[Redlin5_v1legacy]

It had taken more time than Gerhard would have liked to spend to catch up with the white mage he was following.

"I know you're defenseless but come on, how are you going to do any meaningful casting back here?" he muttered to himself as his robes got stuck in the brush. He would have to augment his robes in the future, they were great for keeping the wet and the rot off of him at sea but here they were more of a hindrance than anything else.

The white mage stopped, and appeared to be casting some spell.

"What is he..."

A streak of lightning exploded around him, setting several of the bushes of brush aflame but left him entirely unharmed. The crack of some shielding spell around him revealed Perseverance's work. Spinning around to see the source of the attack, Gerhard muttered a curse as some fanatical mage of his order attempted another volley.

"Fire!"

The flames erupted from his hands as he strode towards his opponent. However, rather than press forward, the mage turned. Perhaps he was thinking better of it?

As Gerhard strode slowly forward in pursuit, slinging off a Thunder spell while he still could hit him, Perseverance came up beside him.

"Glad to see you joined the party." muttered Gerhard, cursing himself for summoning too early. He didn't have the mana to both support the Espers and fight at full strength himself.

Lazy bastard. Years of neglect and now you're surprised?

Before he could say more however, he witnessed a large Esper of some sort emerge from a rising airship. It seemed to be fighting whoever was controlling the craft.

"Doubtless the work of our comrades."

He watched the airship move into a slow dive. More importantly he observed that the ranks of the imperials seemed to be at last coming undone. The mage they had been following fell littered with arrows.

"So just why did you leave the field?" he asked of Perseverance, turning away from the spectacle of the crashing airship.

"I don't want to be killed for desertion nor do I imagine you do."

Come on back, things seem to be wrapping up.

Gerhard waited both for an answer from the mage as well as for his Slyphs to return to him.

 

[SirDerpy]

"Kupo kupo, Kupo-po kupo!"

Serena had lost track of time among the shifting tendrils of smoke, while the world outside the tent ground to a halt. The illusionary glimpse of a more peaceful time collapsed as a Moogle came trying to evict the three futilely. The bottles had run dangerously empty as thoughts of Halvor's untimely demise finally caught hold in her head. Even as her composure failed to slip, her mind churned with thoughts of everyone she knew, their faces (and bodies) now more dusty in reality than in her memories. The Empire would pay dearly for that. They would.

"Kupo, kupo..."

They had come back in force. She stood up abruptly from the table as the Moogles came in. Tonberrion shifted slightly in its scabbard. The bottles on and around the table clinked together solemnly, then Serena left the tent without a word.

[hr]

It was bright. The sun had come out as the battle was finished. Serena wasn't sure whether to be disgusted at the clicheness of it all, or disgusted at the divine being who was having a great laugh at its 'hilarious' joke.

As things stood, she was neither. The sun was scorchingly bright. Irritatingly so. It was a pain to keep her eyes open. If only there were any magi who could cast Blind in the camp. It would've been an improvement to her condition. Perhaps she would run into one of them where she was going.

Where was she going? It was a wonder that she could maintain a coherent sense of direction given how bright the sun was. She could hardly make out the back of the hume she was following-that had told her to follow him. Her left hand, holding her stave, was preoccupied with tapping out a rhythm with no rhyme nor reason on the rocky ground. Perhaps this is what it felt like to be blind.

"Can you stop that? You're not blind." The Hume called back, irritatingly.

Serena was summarily irritated. "No."

She continued on in silence. Aside from the constant tapping, that was.

After a short while, probably less than two minutes since she started walking, they stopped. The light also dimmed a bit. Her eyes were getting used to it, if barely. It was still too bright to open her eyes, though. There seemed to be a lot of people here, from the sounds of it, and a familiar, tired-sounding voice cut through the thrumming waves of idle chatter as it gave a speech.

"I was hoping that you would all make it out in one piece, that you would be looking out for one another."

Serena ignored the Lilty, instead attempting to find shelter inside the nearest tent. Tap tap tap. She really didn't know why she kept doing that; it just seemed fitting for the situation.

"Compared to any other gang out here you had the best chance of survival with us. We look after our own, which is more than I can say for others. Any other crew would've taken your ship and thrown you over the side... We're in very interesting times you know; anyone with enough people or weapons trying to take what power they can get before the Empire solidifies its hold on this land. All you can do now is band together with the nearest people in order to survive."

The speech caught her ear here. Then she shrugged, opening her eyes. The brightness didn't waste a moment searing itself into the back of her eyeballs. Oh, he seemed to be addressing her and her fellow convicts. The Lilty was one hell of a recruiter. Fancy, rousing speeches and all. Serena didn't particularly care either way about how bad the Lilty's speeches were, though. This seemed as good a place as any to fight the Empire, so she'd have to make do. She wondered what Tuck and Gojo would end up doing, then shook her head. It was of no concern to her what they did with their remaining years of life.

Then the Lilty appeared in front of her. "Where did you get those clothes?"

She almost see the disapproval dripping from his mouth. She gave a smile and a sweeping bow in return. "Do you like it, Captain Kennedy? I found this beautiful gem in your supply tent, and I decided to take it for myself."

"It was, after all, on you and your camp's account that my previous articles of clothing were destroyed in battle. I simply sought recompense." She locked eyes as best she could with the Lilty. The dull crimson-ringed irises gleamed dully in the sunlight, muddled and murky.

Serena felt a headache starting to develop, it was so damned bright.

Then she tilted her head a bit, continuing her slight smirk. "Oh, but do not worry. I have merely taken the clothing. The rank remains in your possession." She reached a gloved hand up to the breast pocket and removed the little metal bits and bobs that seemed like they denoted officership, dropping them among the pebbles on the ground. "I trust you will have no problems with this?"

Without waiting for a reply, Serena turned and closed her eyes again. Now she had a headache, her brain pulsating behind her eyes painfully. As she began tapping her way towards the sheltering shade of the nearest tent, a last thought struck her. "And, yes, I will gladly accept your offer of hire."

She felt a coolness wash over her. Finally, a tent. Serena blinked as she chased the remnants of light from deep within the recesses of her eyes. Then she realized that she had unconsciously continued the strangely satisfying tapping, the stave beating out a hollow, metallic ringing into the air.

Serena looked down. The face of Zack Hewley stared back up. The stave paused in midair, a few inches from his chestplate.

"Ah. My apologies." She took a few cautious steps back. Naturally, it had to be the perceptive Zack that occupied this (Serena took in the environment)...medical tent. She took another glance down at the hume lying prone on the cot. Yes, he was most definitely injured. That or faking it like a true master. A choice between the lovely company of that hume and the burning of the sun...

Serena collapsed into a nearby chair, facing away from the tent flap. Her headache didn't show signs of subsiding. Maybe she'd get the nurse to Cure her. "I apologize again...Zack, was it? I seem to have contracted a rather intense incompatibility with the light of the sun, and I was walking blind for a bit. It seems you were injured. How do you fare now?"

On the off chance that they all ended up together, it would be better to have more allies than less.

 

[CharrHearted]

With the battle finally being over and the rest of the enemies having been felled, Veltis frowned at the destruction of the Esper thanks to the crash landing of the ship, feeling not only sorry for the creature but a hint of understanding in the brief moment of its rebirth. Thoughts of what made the entity go so crazed rushed through his head. Veltis came up with all sorts of possibilities in his mind, was it being enslaved? Extorted for Kennedy's own goals? He wouldn't get any answers pondering on the "what if's" and the only way he could get a possible reason for the Esper's rage was from the Lilty himself.

Putting his large greatbow onto his back, he collected some of the arrows lodged into the enemies he's been fighting, deciding to make his way over towards the main tent where the rest of the crew were slowly being escorted towards, a small frown rested on his muzzle, his rat like ears drooped down, contemplating over the losses so far. Veltis couldn't help but also wonder if he let his rage consume him during the battle, whether he made the right choices or not during the chaos. He apologized lightly to the dead comrades who he was fighting alongside, kneeling before one of them, Veltis tried his best to at least bury a few of the soldiers in a sign of respect for their deaths, some of the Liltys soldiers able to see him burying as many as time could allow while he made his way to the tent.

Coming across one final corpse before he entered, Veltis sighed again and picked the body up and walked to the side of the tent, kneeling down before the corpse, he bowed and silently prayed in both pity and regret, and while he spoke, he began to dig at the bloody murky soil with his own claws. Despite being a noble, he had no quarrels with doing what he thought was right, dirtying his bloody hands in such awful grime, the stench was horrible, but it did not matter.

"Oh lost soul, I pray to thee that you forgive me of my failure to protect you... I pray to thee that your death shalt not be in vain and thou shall forgive my wrong doings. I pray for your family, should they walk among our plane and pray that if thy wills it, they would be safe from the monsters who stripped away your life unjustly... I pray that you are safe now, safe from this carnage, safe from all this pain, all this suffering... I hope that one day I can end this plight in your favor, so your may rest peacefully without anguish... I shall set this right for you... All of you..."

After his speech he finally dug the unmarked grave for the soldier and gently placed them inside and slowly covered the hole, smoothing the surface and meditating in the way the white mage told him, he eventually calmed himself down, sniffling, unable to help but weep for the dead, he felt sorry for them. Nobody should have to go through something so horrendous, even if they signed up for it.

"I have to make sure... I stop this soon... but first... I should speak to the Lilty..."

Standing up and walking through the tent's flap, he overheard the Lilty talking, and gazed around at the other prisoners who were within him in the cell not too long ago, most of them Veltis didn't even care for at this point as most of them were simply selfish brats focused more on thieving and greed than making a difference for everyone. Veltis decided to speak up, sitting down on a small chair in the corner of the room with one leg crossed over the other, trying to relax as much as possible, keeping his cool from all the chaotic interference's that have happened over the course of the last few hours.

"While I'm not confident I can trust you Kennedy, you're right about one thing, we all should have stayed together to have the best chance of persevering. However it was too good of me to assume all of you would have had any heart or backbone, had I known some of you would had have preferred to sulk in the shadows and take advantage of these people fighting for their lives by stealing or escaping with their ships, I would have made sure to stop you, but with the battle over there is no need to do anything now, I won't bother wasting my breath on some of you whom are heartless, selfish and insensitive fiends..."

Veltis gave a few people some light frowns to show his annoyance to some of them, he didn't care what they thought of his words, he simply wanted to get his words out into the open and leave it at that, speaking up once again almost immediately, and his direction turned to the Lilty.

"Kennedy... If you wish to be granted my assistance with you in the coming days, I won't be safe not knowing the full story... Please, as someone who desperately wishes to search for answers, I beseech thee... Why was the Adrammelech on THAT ship? Why was it captured and why was it in such a rage? What haven't you shared with us? If you claim you're not as bad as you say, then I desire to know everything you do. If I am not granted this knowledge then how can you expect me to pledge my support and trust in you if you do not trust me? I tried to protect as many of your comrades lives as I could, that is a sign of my ability to trust you in some shape or form, but I need these answers... The full story on everything so far. I refuse to dance on strings by a puppeteer using me like a marionette. So please share with me the whole truth..."

(( sorry for mistakes, on ipad ))

 

[Neuromancer]

Exhaustion and pain had left Zack in a haze, unable to resist as he was taken away. As he was the only one taken away. At least, that's what he thought. Pain and exhaustion had left his senses in a haze, and whatever memories he had as he was picked up and transported were isolated and sporadic. Next thing he knew he was placed on a cot and left there to rot. Luckily, the potion had done its work; the wounds were closed, even though there was a slight sting as he moved his arm.

He surveyed his surroundings. It was pretty clear from the medical equipment that he was in a medical tent, albeit a rather small one. He shared the tent with a Miqo'te, the same one he had woken next to in the cell. He didn't seem conscious, which made Zack wonder just what mischieviousness he was up to during the fight.

Content with having a general knowledge of his surroundings, he closed his eyes again. The wounds and pain were gone, but the exhaustion stayed. He felt that he was going to need whatever breather he could get. Maybe some rest was in order.

[sub][sub]Tap tap tap[/sub][/sub]

An odd metallic sound could be heard in the near distance. Still, drowsiness had its way, and Zack didn't pay much attention.

Tap tap tap

The sound got closer and closer until it was basically beside him. Zack opened his eyes only to see a staff over his chest ready to fall down. The owner, to his horror, was the one person he would rather avoid.

Great. Her.

Upon exchanging eye contact, Serena, as she was called, stopped the staff's motion midair and stepped back, like a murderer caught in the act. Zack felt the comparison to be accurate.

"I apologize again...Zack, was it? I seem to have contracted a rather intense incompatibility with the light of the sun, and I was walking blind for a bit. It seems you were injured. How do you fare now?"

So, she remembered his name. Given the small amount of time they got to know each other and the events that unfolded, it would be reasonable to conclude that he had gotten her attention. Not good.

"I'll be honest, I got pretty beat up back there." he said chuckling, with a grin. "Luckily, my wounds are healed, and I'm feeling better, if a bit tired." He only just noticed her new clothing. "Must say, that's an interesting uniform you're wearing, eh..." he paused for a moment, as though trying to remember something and, giving up, let out another chuckle. "Sorry, with all we've been through I seem to have forgotten your name. Care to repeat it again?"

Hopefully his feint would work. He would rather not make an enemy of her right now. Better the devil you know than the one you don't, even if Zack didn't know her that well either.

 

[SirDerpy]

"I'll be honest, I got pretty beat up back there. Luckily, my wounds are healed, and I'm feeling better, if a bit tired."

Serena cracked open an eyelid as Zack laughed a little laugh and grinned her way. She maintained her irritated expression as she swept an eye across the selection of medicines scattered across the makeshift table in the corner of the tent. Maybe there was something there for headache. Water would do, too. She was quite thirsty.

"That is good to hear." Making her way over to the table, she caught a glance of what seemed like a rather familiar-looking, iron-stomached Miq'ote passed out in a cot further down, but she paid him no mind, refocusing her limited attention on the medicine desk. She picked up some promising-looking vials, searching for a potion or ingredient she recognized. Antidote, perhaps? There were some who might construe alcohol as a kind of poison...

"Must say, that's an interesting uniform you're wearing, eh...Sorry, with all we've been through I seem to have forgotten your name. Care to repeat it again?"

The minty taste of the antidote washed down her throat as she downed a slight vial of the medicine. Setting it back on the table with a vacant clink, she sat back down into her chair lightly. The antidote seemed to be taking its sweet time either working or failing to work, though she didn't know which. Another wave of throbbing came along, Serena massaging her temples in an effort to stem the pain. Interestingly enough, the dull pounding began to recede; perhaps antidote was the right choice.

"But of course. It's been quite an...exciting series of events these past few hours, it's a wonder that most of us are still standing." Serena sat up straighter as her mind cleared away the mist it had been wreathed in. She had almost forgotten who she was talking with. A quick glance at D'khen (if she remembered correctly) revealed him to be completely out of it; safely ignored. Leaning forward with a smile playing around her lips, she introduced herself for a second time. Not that she really believed he had forgotten the first--if Serena hadn't, Zack certainly hadn't. But she could play the game of subtleties if he wanted; there was no time like the present to practice.

"Serena. Red Mage by profession, although I'd not believe that a soldier such as you would forget that important tidbit." Serena glanced at him and smiled. "A warrior's memory, right? As for my clothes..."

She 'absentmindedly' toyed with the remaining buttons on the front of the brown coat, staring outside at the noisy throng consisting of a Lilty plus a few dozen. "Well, to be truthful, this was liberated from the Lilty's supplies. My clothing was ripped up in the last battle, and it hardly befits a lady to go about half-naked." Serena put her hand to her mouth as if to restrain a giggle, eyes shining with mirth. "So I simply took a replacement; it's on the Captain's account that we fought, so he owes us regardless. And I think it looks rather nice, don't you?"

She kept her smile up as she turned her attention back to the prone Zack. "He's attempting to recruit us, you see."

 

[Drummodino]

Bright green lightning arced along the floor and walls of the ship as D'khen fled from its source, the enraged Esper. The ship rocked and trembled as it descended, the remaining explosives detonating at random.

"For far too long has this farce lasted!!"

'Why oh why did I have to get on the ship with a freaking out of control Esper on it?' D'khen wondered, cursing his luck as he dodged and weaved around flying barrels and debris. Spotting an open door he dove through, slamming it shut as something impacted on it with a loud thud. Attempting to catch his breath he surveryed his temporary shelter. It was a fairly small room with a sizeable window and one other resident already present.

"...Chopp? What the hell are you doing here?" D'khen asked, bemused at the sight of the Seeq. Before he could get a reply though he noticed the rapidly approaching ground through the window.

"Oh crap!"

The ship rammed into the ground with a tremendous crash, grinding along the ground with a terrible roar. Chopp and D'khen were flung forward, the last thing the Miq'ote saw was the roof rushing towards him before all went dark.

[hr]

A dull, painful throb. The muted sounds of voices. D'khen groaned as he sat up, clutching his head with one hand. Glancing around groggily it took a few seconds for him to focus on his surroundings. He'd been laid out on a medical cot, still in his armour thankfully. That meant his injuries weren't too serious, although his body ached all over. His spear was laid out along with his various possessions beside him, nothing appeared to be missing. Thanking his luck fervently, he rubbed his eyes and looked over at the source of the voices. The human Zack had a cot of his own looking rather worse for wear. The young Red Mage Serena was sitting nearby, playing with the buttons on a coat she seemed to have liberated during the chaos. As the pair conversed, D'khen coughed and spoke up.

"Pardon me for the intrusion sir and madam, but could someone fill me in on the situation? I'm afraid I don't remember anything after riding that airship into the dirt unfortunately." he said, his best winning smile slightly spoiled by his unkempt hair and bleary eyes. "Oh and would it be too much trouble to ask for a glass of water my dear? I'm awfully parched."

 

[Malbourne]

The squeaking of moogles snapped Gojo out of his transcendent state. "Kupo Kupo!" She seemed to be asking them to leave. He ignored her, and a few minutes later she had returned with a miniature army. The Bangaa rubbed his bleary eyes and watched Serena pass by the group wordlessly.

"Kupo..." Gojo couldn't understand a single word the moogle was saying. Not for lack of trying. All he heard was a tinny ringing in his ears. The most he could comprehend was a request to leave. Tuck, for all his practice, was probably feeling much more spry and able than the Bangaa. He shook his head, futilely attempting to clear the fog from his mind. Maybe that Viera's gone to get a head-clearer. Thinking she had the right idea, the Bangaa gently stepped past the moogle entourage and out into the sunlight.

Serena had the wrong idea. As the light pierced holes in Gojo's eyeballs, turning everything a subtle shade of yellow, he scanned the area for some hint as to where she might have gone. Given the hectic activity in the camp, it was impossible to locate the Viera. What he did notice, however, was a large confluence of people at one of the larger tents. Figuring checking out the ado was more productive than wandering around searching for Serena, Gojo made for the crowd.

There were many people about the entrance, discussing the battle with one another, mourning lost friends, and speculating their future. Oddly enough, there were few individuals with heavy wounds. Perhaps a medical tent was set up before or after the battle; Gojo assumed Serena would have made for that to get a better prognosis for her injuries (or hangover, more likely). The Bangaa made a mental note to locate some sort of hangover cure before the sun slackened. As he shoved past the throng of battered soldiers and entered the tent, he overheard the tail-end of what was probably an ongoing conversation.

He flinched when he noticed it was the Burmecian he'd last heard before the battle. "...it was too good of me to assume all of you would have had any heart or backbone, had I known some of you would had have preferred to sulk in the shadows and take advantage of these people fighting for their lives by stealing or escaping with their ships..." Well, true, Gojo had borrowed a gauntlet, but this fuss about a ship was news to him. It sounded like everybody was having fun while he, Serena, and Tuck had been in the middle of their round-table heart-to-heart.

"...I would have made sure to stop you, but with the battle over there is no need to do anything now, I won't bother wasting my breath on some of you whom are heartless-" True, Gojo thought, picking at a tooth with his pinky claw "- selfish -" the Bangaa wondered if Kennedy had the foresight to stock lunch in the tent "-and insensitive fiends..." Insensitive? Seemed a little harsh, Gojo mused, examining the food scrap he'd salvaged from between his fangs.

"Kennedy... If you wish to be granted my assistance with you in the coming days, I won't be safe not knowing the full story... Please, as someone who desperately wishes to search for answers, I beseech thee... Why was the Adrammelech on YOUR ship? Why was it captured and why was it in such a rage? What haven't you shared with us?" Good point. Gojo made a mental note to ask somebody what all this hullabaloo with an Esper was. It would explain the quake-like sounds that kept interrupting his relaxing inebriation.

"If you claim you're not as bad as you say, then I desire to know everything you do." Gojo's eyes widened. There was catering! A table, on the other side of the tent! He briefly considered shoving past the audience in the hopes of snagging a snack. The last time he'd eaten...

"If I am not granted this knowledge then how can you expect me to pledge my support and trust in you if you do not trust me?" That's right. The last time he'd eaten was in the prison cell, when they had nothing but moldy biscuits. Had he even tried that? Then again, he'd filled up on booze just an hour or two ago.

"I tried to protect as many of your comrades lives as I could, that is a sign of my ability to trust you in some shape or form, but I need these answers..." Gojo squinted and suddenly realized it wasn't catering at all. What he'd taken to be several platters of sauce-soaked trout fingers were actually just blood-crusted documents. Now that he thought on it a bit more, it wouldn't have made sense for a ragtag band of survivors to segue directly into a hearty buffet. His stomach growled mournfully.

"The full story on everything so far. I refuse to dance on strings by a puppeteer using me like a marionette. So please share with me the whole truth..." And perhaps drop a few scraps of information for those of us on the sidelines, Gojo thought. It was painful, but he at least agreed with Veltis on that front: if they were going to be fighting alongside the Lilty, they'd need all the background they could get.

 

[Neuromancer]

"Serena. Red Mage by profession, although I'd not believe that a soldier such as you would forget that important tidbit. A warrior's memory, right?"

Zack barely hid his discomfort at the way she glanced and smiled at him. Was she aware that he was lying to her? If so, would that mean that, given how she seemed content to play ball, his suspicions of her were true? Or did he completely miss the mark and completely misinterpret her? No. Zack had a gut feeling that she was a creature of malice and bloodlust, and he had little reason to doubt his gut.

"Yeah... When you're in my line of work for long enough you find it best to not bond with people. More often than not, it's best to keep things professional. Helps keep the grief away."

It wasn't completely a lie. Zack had outlived more comrades than he cared to count. Mark hunting was a dangerous profession, after all. Much to his dismay, though, he could never keep his demeanour detached and professional. Attachment came naturally to him, which only made things more painful when fights didn't go as planned. Jolting his head, he shrugged his memories off; now was not the time to think of days of old.

"Well, to be truthful, this was liberated from the Lilty's supplies. My clothing was ripped up in the last battle, and it hardly befits a lady to go about half-naked."

A lady, perhaps. You don't look like one, though, he thought, holding himself from voicing his opinion. If she was trying to catch him off guard, it wasn't going to work.

"So I simply took a replacement; it's on the Captain's account that we fought, so he owes us regardless. And I think it looks rather nice, don't you?"

Yes. Quite. Again, he held himself from voicing his opinion.

"He's attempting to recruit us, you see."

"Oh?" he replied in a sarcastic tone, "How kind of him to offer us a choice." The words of the Imperial echoed at the back of his head.

Traitors... Thieves and brigands... Informant told us... She will answer...

Were they dealing with Imperial deserters here? And just who was this informant he was referring to?

And again, the Imperial's last words came to mind as though to haunt him.

Judicator... Not yours...

...Damn it all, I want answers for once, instead of questions.

Before he could inquire further about the Captain, another voice from inside the tent was raised. Indeed, the Miqo'te Dragoon had finally come to, sporting a smile that could win any innocent village girl's heart.

"Pardon me for the intrusion sir and madam, but could someone fill me in on the situation? I'm afraid I don't remember anything after riding that airship into the dirt unfortunately."

"Ah, welcome back," he said facing the Miqo'te with a warm grin. "You came to just in time, actually. Serena here was just about to fill me in on what's been happening while we were lying here."

"By the way..." he continued after a brief pause, his eyebrow raised with curiosity, "What do you mean by riding an airship... uh..." he paused once again, as though trying to remember something, before giving up. "What was your name again?"

 

[SirDerpy]

"How kind of him to offer us a choice."

The sarcasm was so thick, Serena probably couldn't cut it with Tonberrion if she tried. She gave a short laugh. "It is a matter of little importance. If this crew does not serve whatever goals you have in mind, then you can simply dis-"

"Pardon me for the intrusion sir and madam, but could someone fill me in on the situation? I'm afraid I don't remember anything after riding that airship into the dirt unfortunately. Oh and would it be too much trouble to ask for a glass of water my dear? I'm awfully parched."

The other occupant in the tent chose this very moment to return to the realm of the living. Serena turned in her seat to face the new arrival to the conversation.

The smile on D'Khen's face was so precious, one could file a suit for property damage if it was, say, set on fire. Serena returned a smile with marginally less effort; her most enthusiastic fake smiles had a tendency to invoke the reaction of fight or flight quite literally. Or so her late mercenary comrades had told her.

"Ah, welcome back. You came to just in time, actually. Serena here was just about to fill me in on what's been happening while we were lying here..."

Serena cocked her ears to the side. "Yes, quite a convenient time indeed. You have my thanks for saving me the trouble."

"...By the way, what do you mean by riding an airship... uh...What was your name again?"

She turned her attention back to the freshly awoken D'khen. "Good afternoon, D'khen. Glad to see that you survived." Serena placed the subtlest of emphases on the Miq'ote's name. Let the games continue. "That looked like quite the exciting airship ride, Espers and all. I'm quite curious about it as well."

An idea struck her. "Ah, yes, was it water that you wanted? There are plenty of potions in here, and I happen to have a little alcohol on hand, although I'm not sure if those can exactly quench your thirst." Serena stretched out a gloved hand, a shimmering blue globe growing above the palm. "Of course, I can magick some water for you, if you so desire, but I'd have to warn you that it's rather bitter. And a tad bit poisonous, but so are apple seeds, and few complain of that." She chuckled as she said the last bit, shooting the briefest of glances at Zack. Serena finished her turn. It was his move now.

 

[TheIronRuler]

There was enough alcohol in Tuck's bloodstream to have successfully demolished two entirely healthy human livers and still have more left for a mid-spring celebration festival in the south. There was so much poison flowing through his veins they should have already turned black, calcified and exploded. His heart should have stopped beating or ruptured from the pressure. His kidneys would have imploded with the amount of filth they had to stream. His gut was full of the liquid acid, yet it still held firm. Tuck was a medical mystery to the ordinary surgeon, but a true wielder of the body's powers knew how he had done such a feat. Strengthening his internal organs through the power of directing Chakra, Tuck had successfully avoided drinking himself to death for the last thirty years. His incredible stamina aided his legendary adventurous exploits in the four corners of the earth, all of which involved some form of drink, and was a crucial factor in his survival thus far - together with his cunning and deceptive nature.

Someone chirped in his ears, then the chirps intensified. A bunch of Moogles were raiding his tent, chirping to their heart's content about everything and nothing, Tuck didn't really mind. He had taken what he found, and that was the law of looting a property. He never expected these forces to survive the onslaught - he merely awaited a change of masters with a drink in hand. Perhaps the Empire would have appreciated a chaplain of their own, even though he himself was highly doubtful. He shrugged his shoulders, watching the mage leave the tent, followed by the elderly warrior. Tuck sat there alone with the orchestra of chirping Moogles.

'This is all confiscated', Tuck announced with a boom, his voice a deep bass. He stood up abruptly and furrowed his brow when examining the response from the Moogles. 'By the order of the Holy See, you cannot indulge in such drink before a battle', Tuck announced to them all, and then proceeded with even greater exaggeration, 'You would have been killed had it not been for me, who took those before an inquisitor investigated this tent'. Tuck moved past them and inspected the rest of the tent in an effort to find out where the rest of the forbidden merchandise was being held, 'Therefore, for your own safety, you must turn these over to me, and your lives will not be forfeit', Tuck brushed past a Moogle, who quickly leaped away from him. His intimidating broad figure stood towering all of them, looking down at the chirping buggers. 'You can face a court, by the law of God, and the judges will be the inquisitors... but rest assured, your fragile forms would not face such a...rigorous investigation'.

The chirping turned into a choir of panic and fear. One of the group who seemed brave enough to appraoch Tuck showed him the rest of their stash, hidden away in a chest at the back of the tent. Tuck thanked them for their quick and decisive judgement, and warned against doing such a thing in the future. 'Now, after a battle, that's a different story entirely...', Tuck smiled when he walked out, half a dozen bottles hidden in his robes. It should last him a good merry week, he thought happily, before his mind turned elsewhere.

While the rest were called over to meet again with their captor, the arrogant archer who first tried to orchestrate the group of misfit inmates was walking solemnly through the corpse ridden field, a melancholy mood surrounding him. He knelt down and dug a grave all by himself for a fallen soldier, muttering a prayer to his name. Let the young do the digging, Tuck remembered his teacher fondly, Let them feel death, touch it, caress it, embrace it. Let them understand what it means to fight, and what it means to take a life.. He heard the words he spoke, and was filled with contempt, To know such a thing, and to swear such a vow, is the epitome of idiocy and naivety. How he would know the dead and what kept them away from eternal rest, the arrogance was troubling. All a man of faith could do was to wish their souls safe travel, yet that munchkin promised them the world, and will fail to achieve. Tuck thought of intervening, of saying a few words of his own, but he stopped himself from disturbing his ceremony. He had the decency to leave the Burmecian with his work.

Let the young dig...

[hr]2[/hr]

A dirt road

'Solomon, what are we going to do once we reach the city?'. A child in rags was trailing behind a huge monk, tall and thick, a solemn look on his face. Solomon wore a set of heavy brown robes, the ones every monk of the order wears, and the only thing they owned themselves. He was carrying a monk's spade, and seemed to lean on it with every other step, as if he was suffering from an old injury to the right leg. 'The monastery is in need of repair', Solomon spoke softly, as he always did, 'and we will buy the tools for that'. 'Hurry along and watch your step. Don't come across any small creatures', Solomon turned around and smiled at the child.

'Yes, master Solomon', the child responded happily and ran forward to walk at his side. His big eyes were surveying the road they were walking through and the forest to both sides. It was the beginning of spring and green began to dominate the scene. A few pieces of snow remained on the dirt road, but they would melt soon enough. The birds sang a most beautiful melody outside, almost better than the monastery's own choir. He was reminded of the holy hymns, and of the hours he spent memorizing those with the other pupils. Every day was a gift from god, the child smiled at the world, and the world smiled back, Let us thank him, and use it as well as we can.

Solomon's hand stopped the boy in his tracks so suddenly he nearly landed of his face. He turned back and whispered to him, 'Stay away, Tuck. Stay hidden'. This was more of a request than a demand - Solomon nearly begged him to save himself and run away, knowing the nature of the young pupil. Tuck had no idea what was happening - he couldn't sense anything wrong around him. Solomon must have mistaken a deer for a foreigner - yet that couldn't be the case, since Solomon could sense Chakra flowing around him. Tuck could hear the brush move aside to let a man pass through. There were more around them, circling them slowly. There was no other way to look at it - they were being attacked by bandits, and they will be upon them soon enough. Solomon walked in front of Tuck, stopped and then turned back. 'Hide, I said', he nearly yelled at the boy for his disobedience.

'Good day, Monk', a voice pierced through the air directed at Solomon. 'Where are you going at this fine day?', he asked again with a sly intent. He revealed himself from the brush, a small man wearing rough-spun wool clothes, holding an intimidating axe in one hand. A peasant turned robber, Tuck inferred on the spot, driven from his home by war, conscripted to the army... and then fled or routed, finding no other pleasure than death could satisfy them.

'I walk the high-road as do all, to my destiny. I seek counsel for my health', Solomon immediately spoke a lie without flinching. The robber eyed his curiously, a crooked smile on his face. He whistled loudly, and three more men came from the woodwork, all standing behind him. More were coming from the back, slowly walking on to the road through the brush. 'There is no surgeon in town', the peasant replied rather eloquently, 'and you monks can take care of yourselves', he noticed Tuck hiding behind a low brush and chuckled, 'Come on out, little man, don't be afraid'. Solomon gritted his teeth and clentched his hand around his staff. He breathed in, closed his eyes, and then breathed out. All was well again.

'Let us sit and talk of the road', Solomon suggested in a friendly manner. He produced a couple of items from his robes - a metal flask and a thick cigarette. He offered the cigarette to the bandit, taking a slight bow to signify his humbleness. 'To friendship', Solomon said carefully, and hoped his offering will be accepted. The bandit leader snatched it away from him and put it in between his lips, curled it to the side and smoke with half a mouth, 'I need a light'. The other men around him started to spread out, eyeing the young boy behind him greedily. Solomon lowered his head again and procured a box of matches. 'To good health', he opened the flask and drank a mouthful of the stuff. What happened next came as a blur - Solomon tried to light the cigarette, but instead he lit the entirety of the road, burning the four men. Two more of the bandits who came from behind rushed to attack him, one of them choosing to come on his right, on account of the limp. Solomon stopped faking his injury - leaned on his right and brought the staff up to meet with a club, tore it away from his hands and carved a great gash in his throat. The second one had only his fists, and he taunted the monk to face him equally. 'Go on, old man, try me', he shouted and Solomon obliged - he rushed forward, faster than Tuck could see, hitting him so many times he simply stood in his place and collapsed, blood spurting from his mouth.

'Tuck', Solomon was breathing heavily, the spade laying on the ground, 'search their clothes and bury them'. His words were cold, so very cold, and the young boy couldn't believe his eyes. The peaceful monk, the greatest gardener he ever knew, slayed six men without batting an eye. He did it with such a speed Tuck could barely keep up. 'Let the young dig', Solomon muttered, 'I am too old for that'. 'How did you-', Tuck could barely formulate a sentence, '-The God's hand runs in our blood. God had given it to us for our own protection'. Tuck walked through the group of corpses and eyed them strangely. He had never seen a dead man before. It disgusted him, his stomach turning, and he quickly looked away.

'I want to learn what you did', Tuck blurted out what he was thinking. 'Then touch them', Solomon commanded, 'feel them. Search them'. 'You will be assigned to the mortician soon', Solomon calmed himself down now. He walked up to a boulder at the side of the road and sat on top of it. 'Understand the consequences of your actions', Solomon opened his hands and showed him the field of corpses around them, 'Accept it. Use it only in your defense. Remember, your first defense is your mind-', Solomon raised his bloody hand and showed it to Tuck, '-The second is God's hand'.

[hr]2[/hr]

Tuck walked to where his captor was at earlier - the same place where he was told Havlor was no more. The strong sun was of no consequence to him - he had been in stranger lands still.

"Compared to any other gang out here you had the best chance of survival with us. We look after our own, which is more than I can say for others. Any other crew would've taken your ship and thrown you over the side... We're in very interesting times you know; anyone with enough people or weapons trying to take what power they can get before the Empire solidifies its hold on this land. All you an do now is band together with the nearest people in order to survive."

Turn into bandits and make our own petty kingdoms before it all comes apart. Tuck spat on the ground at his offer. He had lost his monastery, his land, and his friends, but he still had his dignity. God was a constant, and so was his faith. He couldn't force peasants into his imaginary kingdom a moment before the hordes of the Empire come crashing down on all of their heads.

"... I won't bother wasting my breath on some of you whom are heartless, selfish and insensitive fiends..."

Friends? Who the hell does he think he is? That bastard will soon eat his own words

'I won't be a part of it', Tuck spoke, cutting through the Burmecian's words, 'to roam the land as bandits', he looked around him at the rest of the crew, 'and carve our own kingdom'. 'You sound as desperate as a sinner on his deathbed', Tuck turned to Veltis, 'begging for answers... Sod his answers!'. Tuck walked up to him, towering over the creature, the smell of liquor in his breath enough to topple the hardest of wenches off her feet, 'You arrogant boy, prancing around with a hand around your bow and another down your pants, telling us what to do as if you were the pope'. Tuck raised his hand and brought it down without anyone even noticing, smacking Vletis on his cheek, 'Know your place'.

 

[Doc Gnosis]

Kennedy lingered on the Viera's words before he shrugged, all but accepting her decision. The Burmecian on the other hand...

"I would like to know the answers to your first question as well." The Lilty answered, a frown developed on his face. "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."

He would speak more, but the monk had beaten him to the next word, voicing his opinion.

The Lilty frowned. "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."

One of the crew - the same moogle with the ribbon - entered the tent, obviously hyper about something.

"Captain, are we going to pack up? We shouldn't be staying any *kupo* longer!" She said.

"We have time." Kennedy responded.

"But this may be-"

"I know, and it will still be there. I'll talk more later." The Lilty all but dismissed him while the Moogle left in a huff muttering something about an advantage. The Gria picked up on that detail and promptly acted on it.

"What was she talking about?" She asked.

"A matter regarding the men whose ship you took. Whatever you did has left the Empire distracted and weakened for a while."

The Gria looked like she had more to say, but was obviously unsure of where to even begin. The Lilty caught that and proceeded to head off that problem.

"The land that you came from is part of a much bigger world. I came here from Grandall and found many towns and peoples here, but it looks as if they know just as much of your kingdom as you know about them. The locals mentioned how in the southeast there was a well of magic holding things no one has ever seen. The ship you got away from - and the tower you destroyed belonged to the Empire of Grandall. They've just came here to expand their power for a war in the making back home. Considering the intelligence I've found in your ship, they must have considered your kingdom a threat."

Kennedy paused a little, his brow creasing as he took a breath.

"As for us, I can tell you that half of us were refugees from the Empire's campaign here. The other half are - or were - former patriots of Grandall. But no longer." He started off. "We were sent here to bolster what bases and 'colonies' the Empire?s viceroys have built, but none of us here want the war the Empire wants. It would destroy our homes and lives, and leave us all in worse shape. For our part, we have been trying to survive here, and perhaps sabotage the Empire's efforts if circumstance permits it. Some of us aren't even sure we can go back home." He trailed off, his mind flooding with memories.

"But how can we be safe?" One of the humes interrupted. He looked weary of the Lilty captain?s words.

"As I said, whatever you did has left the Admiralty distracted. They would be spending their resources fixing the damage you dealt to focus on anything else. It was by chance the scout party had found us, and it won't be happening again soon."

Half of the awake Halvorians were still wary at what Kennedy spoke of. The thought occurred to just say no and leave.

"What if we want nothing to do with your affairs?" the Mithra asked.

"I had mentioned the settlement ten days away from here." Kennedy repeated.

The Mithra's jaw slackened and had nothing to say, looking on at the rest of his compatriots for their opinion.

"Do you have any other questions?" Kennedy asked the Halvorians.

 

[CharrHearted]

'I won't be a part of it', Tuck spoke, cutting through the Burmecian's words, 'to roam the land as bandits', he looked around him at the rest of the crew, 'and carve our own kingdom'. 'You sound as desperate as a sinner on his deathbed', Tuck turned to Veltis, 'begging for answers... Sod his answers!'.

Veltis shot the man a gaze of annoyance, he completely took his words the wrong way like so many of these other people seem to be doing, somehow asking for answers and wanting to stop whatever monstrous entity is destroying so many innocent lives is immediately frowned upon by such a drunk selfish and hypocritical monk, veltis wasn't going to focus on his words and simply kept his disapointing gaze set on him, letting him continue with his speech, Veltis folded his arms, waiting for him to finish so thst he could retort.

Tuck walked up to him, towering over the creature

Veltis: [A standard white furred Burmecian, standing at 6 feet tall ]
Tuck: [Tuck is somewhat past him prime, but he's not old yet. A short and stout man ]

Veltis couldnt help but feel sorry for the small and stout man trying to stand over Veltis, with him being short his height most likely barely reached the burmecians shoulders and instead it was Veltis who was towering over the small short man, shaking his head in no approval of his words while he spoke. Gazing into his eyes and feeling sorry for his terrible manners despite claiming he was lovable and upbeat (according to your bio)

'You arrogant boy, prancing around with a hand around your bow and another down your pants, telling us what to do as if you were the pope'. Tuck raised his hand and brought it down without anyone even noticing, smacking Vletis on his che-

Veltis didnt get where he was today by allowing a short tiny little drunk monk get a hit into him, a man of incredible dexterity and cunning, A man who weilds a bow and can determine even the slightest of interventions, his slap never even connected, infact it didnt even get close to hitting the burmecian, Veltis reared his head back, avoiding the flailing slap simply by this little manouver, bending his body back, veltis backflipped while he was rearing his head backwards, allowing him to gain a meters distance from a single flip, his agile and acrobatic body giving him a very nimble step, frowning at the short monk once he landed, Veltis shook his head, folding his arms once again.

"Arrogance? That's what you think I am? Arrogant? You don't even know what that means, do you? Being arrogant means you hold your own abilities as superior and believe them to be greater than they are. I am not Arrogant, I am one man, my talents are limited just like any other man, my talents will do me no good in the wrong scenario, my talents are only suited to scenarios that require them, but I do not think my talents are the greatest nor do i believe its all we need. I grew up living with commoners despite being of a noble background, why? The reason is, I can't stand inequality caused by chaos. Murders, bandits and killers who take everything from the planet just so they can line their own pockets is unforgivable. An Arrogant man would go fight the enemy alone, believing them to be the only thing able to beat their enemies. My desire was for all of us to join forces and combine our abilities to stand a chance! We are all weak if we go by ourselves, if we combine our strengths and cover our weaknesses, we can actually have a chance of living! How is that arrogance?

Monk you are a sad sad man... I truthfully feel sorry for whatever happened to you in your past, whatever it is it may be, but none of that justifies whats going on now! Open your eyes! That unit of the empire that we just thought was no doubt a small squad! And they no doubt have hundreds of thousands more! Do you not realise that if we don't band together and stop the empire ourselves, all of us are going to die as easily as all our loved ones have just been not a mere few days ago! I am not offering to join bandits! I do not follow mercenaries, I work for the common people, but if walking with this group leads me to the answers I seek, the death of the empire and its fall, then I will pursue it, no matter the cost! I will gladly die so that men, women and children can sleep soundly at night without being obliterated by such corrupted monsters! My parents, my friends, all the ones I had cared about in Halvor are now DEAD! But do you know what?! IM NOT GOING TO LET THEM DOWN! I WILL NOT SUCCUMB TO GRIEF AND HAVE THEIR DEATHS BE EMPTY! I AM GOING TO DEFEAT THE EMPIRE WITH AS MANY ALLIES WHO WILL HELP ME AS POSIBLE, RESTORE A PEACEFUL ORDER, AND PROTECT THE COMMON PEOPLE! That is what im going to do! And if it pleases you to run away and hide, go on! You can run, run as fast as your legs will drop you, but im not going to give in! I'm going to actually give it a shot!"

Veltis choked out his last few words before he clutched onto a pendent inside of his pocket and took the pendent out, he didnt whimper nor cry, but tears still. Flowed from their ducts and down his face, clutching the pendent tight in his hand causing his fist to vibrate, staring at tuck with a look of complete determination, shaking his head at him, shouting loudly, having enough of his insults and belittlements, he had to scream what was lingering in his heart, he had to try and make him understand.

"I refuse to let their deaths mean NOTHING! MY MOTHERS, MY FATHERS, MY FRIENDS, INNOCENT MEN, WOMEN AND CHILDREN! I LOST EVERYONE! JUST LIKE MANY PEOPLE HERE HAVE! DO YOU THINK ANYONE WHO LOST THEIR LOVED ONES COULD LET PETTY DIFFERENCES TAKE OVER AND CLOUD THEIR VISION FROM THE ACTUAL THREAT?! FIGHTING EACHOTHER WILL GET US KILLED, IF YOU LOST PEOPLE IMPORTANT TO YOU, YOU WOULD DO THE SAME!

Veltis eventually calmed down, walking over to tuck, Veltis opened up the pendent and revealed what appeared to be a small little painting of Veltis along with a burmecian baby in his arms, it was painfully apparant whos child it was. Veltis didnt even need to say anything else as Veltis' muzzle quivered. He stormed away right after tying the pendent around his neck, a sorrowful expression on his face, Veltis decided to head into the medical tent where the dragoon, zack and serena were, wiping the tears off his face, he gave a deep sigh, looking to be rather depressed, he gazed over towards the dragoon and zack in their beds, speaking up to them.

"How are.. Your wounds recovering? My apologies for the noise... "