While
the group had rushed down to the water’s edge, the figure gliding across the
water had only grown closer and closer. It’s face was obscured in the deep
shadows of it’s long cloak, but it did not seem to be looking at the group
gathered. It’s attention seemed firmly fixed on something else in the village.
“I
suspect we should probably stop it before it gets to the village?” Anselme deHaillenarte suggested, though he didn’t seem entirely enamored with the idea of standing
between a possible-ghost and whatever it intended to haunt. Either way he
unstrapped his axe from his back and rolled his shoulder.
Luca
Black felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and rise. It was
premature, but seeing the thing so single minded in its approach on the village
made the cold of battle already turn his veins to ice and bade his focus to
tighten.
Synn
Heolstor -before anything else- put his helmet on for the added protection.
Then like Anselme he reached for and drew his weapon from his back. “It’s
what we came here for yeah?”
Idristan
Agache gives a curt nod and reaches for his own staff. “And I’d prefer not
to wait to find out what it wants,” he adds grimly. Meanwhile, the thing
had finally made land. There is a chill around it as it continues towards the
village, still either unnoticing or uncaring about the voidhunters. It seemed
that the group would either need to make the first move–or perhaps wait to see
what it was actually after…?
Featuring Lebeaux Desrosiers, Cinnabar Prentice, Jacline Kerelle, Asha Djinnfang, Idristan Agache, Synn Heolstor and Luca Black
Lebeaux gathered the groups of hunters up in in Fallgourd Float to share the latest leads he had on the missing Halonic relics and the reliquaries that had housed them. The ornate containers had begun resurfacing amongst collectors and in black market circuits. The group of Cinnabar, Jacline and Asha would be dispatched to the Dravanian Hinterlands to search for the vessel that once held the relic of Saint Aalis the Pure. Idristan, Synn and Luca would head for Coerthas Western Highlands to investigate a possible cult rumored to have the box that housed a relic of Saint Ymbert.
I have been neglecting this. The past few suns have been rather busy. Little did I suspect when I signed on to the Eight Winds and Ironclaws would I find myself at a clandestine meeting with a Garlean… Tribunus? Is that even the correct spelling? I must ask Luke–and perhaps see if he knows anything about our… allies seems too strong a word at this juncture.
Anyroad. Tonight several of us met with Lebeaux to discuss the newest developments in his relic hunt. My group was charged with retrieving a reliquary from a cult out in Coerthas, so we’ll see how well that goes. At the very least he has promised to actually pay us this time…
I had a chance to speak with Luca after. I cautioned him about Lebeaux and told him the exact reasons why he needs to be careful. He took it rather well, but then he of course asked the obvious question of why I continue to work with him, knowing what I know now. I… told him the truth, or at least, a good deal of it.
I can’t say I was surprised when he started to suggest alternatives; he’s more than clever enough to see why just walking away isn’t possible. I didn’t expect him to suggest trying to fool Trysten though. I’m still not sure that I should have let him; I would hardly want him to attract trouble because he is pretending to be… afflicted on my account.
Yet I won’t deny that I am rather touched by the gesture.
It should be fine; anyone who can sense aether would be able to see there’s no deep traces of the void on him. And if he can get answers… Fury, but I would like a way to not have to deal with that bastard in the future.
The
clawmarks did, indeed, seem to match that of a hand–if said hand had talons.
No human fingers should have been able to leave gashes this deep. It was not
the only wound on the creature either, just the one that had proven to be
lethal–it’s side bore similar claw marks, as if something had perhaps lept at
it to catch it, as well as generally tearing into it with abandon. Synn,
meanwhile, would indeed notice tracks. A few were bootprints that seemed fairly
fresh; likely left by those who had found the body in
the first place. But the others… they were odd. There were no shoe marks, but
the dirt seemed to have been swept aside, as if by a broom. Or perhaps a
cloak… The trail did not lead down towards the village either; instead it
continued towards the side of the cliff, towards the river, before simply…
vanishing over the side.
“It wasn’t a clean kill, that’s for sure,” said Luca Black, looking over to Anselme, certain he saw all of the same signs of struggle
as he did.
Anselme de Haillenarte nodded his agreement, lining up the clawmarks with his fingers yet
not touching the wound. “Something about the size of a man could have done
that, if he had claws rather than hands.” He noted. “Or some sort of claw-like
weapon. Yet that seems a bit silly, far more effective ways to poach.” He
pushed himself back to his feet, looking from Luca to Idristan, then back
again. “Will you check it for signs of the void? That, ah, tracking bit.”
Synn Heolstor knelt down to better inspect the trails
leading away from the vilage. “Idristan or Luca, either of you want to
take a look at this? I’ve found a trail leading away from the village and
toward the river before…” He gestures for them to see for themselves.
Luke Gravespast slowly walked back around and away, the man giving room and scanning
the ridges nearby, looking for what he was possibly more concerned with on rote
habit.
Idristan
Agache seems focused more on the body than the potential tracks. Pressing the
cloth harder against his nose, his expression grows distant as he focuses on
the corpse. No aether left, of course… but no void taint either. “It
doesn’t look like a voidsent did this,” he admits slowly.
Anselme de Haillenarte knocked politely as possible on the door given the circumstances,
essentially making it more of a rapidfire pounding on the knocker. When the
door was opened by one of the serving staff the Knight pushed his way past with
muttered apologies. Both for the rude entrance as well as the black smudge of
Fury-knows what was transferred from the torn and bloodied coat onto the
servant’s attire. “I’m looking for the Lord of the Manor, err… the Argents?”
Cassiopeia
Argent furrowed her brows, placed a hand on the
table and rose to her feet after the commotion and the use of her family’s name.
 Luca
Black shot a look to Idristan at the voice in the foyer.
“But
it is the largest,” Idristan Agache points out. Because him knowing that wasn’t
suspicious at all either. He seems prepared to add more, only for the words to
die in his throat as he looks sharply over his shoulder. He knew that
voice… but surely there was no way, no reason why he would be here.
“Anselme,” he murmurs to Luca, as if in agreement, then he pushes
back his chair roughly and gets to his feet.
“…..Anselme?” Luca repeated.
Cassiopeia did them one better.  "Who is
Anselme?“Â
She unfolded her arms, following Luca with brows still furrowed.
Idristan doesn’t look at Cassi as he answers. “A knight,” he says
curtly as he strides forward, following the others to see what was going on.
Anselme looked up as his name was called. He and his coat had both seen
better days, dark smudges of blood and something else smudged over both. He
held his side with a small wince as he caught his breath, but at the sound of
familiar voices he brightened up considerably. Grinning despite bruises and a
bloodied nose. “Hello, good evening. Ah, I’m Anselme.” He gestured at himself.
“My apologies for the carpet, and for interrupting your party. But it seemed
rather important.”
Lionnet
Blodoint shrugs at Quincy. “Do you know this man?"Â
”…no, but then I can’t say I know any of you, really,
Ser.“ Quincy Pallene retorted.
Cassiopeia looked upon said knight in the
foyer and her brows raised as though she was silent saying ’ yeaaaaah he is.’.
"What
the…” Luca could see the blooms of discoloration on Anselme’s face and
the sorry state of his posture and worse state of his clothes. “Anselme, what
happened? Lionnet!”
Idristan sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as he gets a decent look at
the other elezen’s face. “All of that is important,” he remarks as he
steps forward. “But we should really let him sit down before the
questioning. And… yes,” he adds as Luca calls for Lionnet. Let the
healers do their work too!
Quincy quietly goes back to reading.
Lionnet stands and strides surprisingly swiftly over, reacting to the strained
tone of Luca’s call. “Yes?”
Cassiopeia turned, disappearing into the kitchen for a moment.
Anselme lifted a hand in a small salute to Luca before he placed his hand
back on his side. “Still working that out, to be honest.” He exhaled a sigh and
straightened up, having finally caught his breath after likely running across a
good portion of the city. “So far as I know… Luca, have you been drinking?
You’re leaning… oh that’s me.” He slumped down to sit hard on the floor.
“And
you see my point.” Idristan observed flatly.
Luca Black brushed his bangs out of his stormcloud grey
eyes, the blue stone of his family ring shimmering in the lantern light of the
room. “I should probably get back…” he said aloud, standing from
his chair. “The girls are still getting used to life with the Argents. If
Haylee keeps ordering pancakes all day I’m afraid we’ll end up overstaying our
welcome…” Luca had things to think on, too. All of this
talk of voidsent. At the rate things were going, they were bound to infiltrate
every aspect of his life. Around every corner there was another dark plot
taking shape, giving form to the shadows beyond the edge of his vision. He
scowled….but hid the expression quickly, his face returning to its pleasant
almost blank neutral.
Anselme de Haillenarte grinned at Luca’s wind up to a departure, pushing the uncomfortable
matter of voidsent and summonings aside for the moment. “Of course, it has been
a pleasure to see you about and doing well.” He noted, rubbing idly at his own
nose in an unconsciously sympathetic itch. “I do hope our next meeting is under
better circumstances.” He nodded to Idristan, same went for the whitehaired
mage.
Idristan
Agache gives Luca a small nod. “Of course. I can… imagine it’s quite a
change,” he remarks. He then looks back over to Anselme, his lips quirking
in a small smile. “You mean, when there isn’t something out there that
wants to kill us? Because that seems… unlikely,” he remarks dryly.
Luca looked over to Idristan. He found himself finding
the concept just as unlikely. "That would be nice,“ he said,
though. "Even if we’re hard pressed to find a time like that.” He
shrugged his coat back on over his shoulders and gave both men a small smile.
“I’ll see you around. Soon, I imagine.”
Anselme laughed heartily at that, fingers once again finding their way into
shortcropped hair a little self-consciously. “I suppose the tone has been set.”
He admitted. “A new moon and a new threat to existence as we know it. Well, one
can hope and pray!” He declared firmly. The eternal optimist. “Take care
Luca.”
Idristan just eyes Anselme for a moment. “You are far too cheerful about
this,” he remarks.
Anselme de Haillenarte was running late rather than intentionally making a fashionable entrance, as
evidenced by the less than casual way he came barreling through the doors and
all but skidded to a stop when he found the two he had been looking for. There
was a moment where he adjusted the lay of his coat and tugged the wrappings
around his head back into place before he took a seat and grinned broadly at
the others. “You’re both up and around. I’m relieved to see it.”
Idristan
Agache just stares for a few moments as Anselme bursts into the room, coattails
flying behind him. His lips quirk into a slightly amused smirk. “More or
less,” he informs the knight. His expression falls a bit as he glances
over towards Luca, a touch of concern and perhaps guilt in his eyes before he
looks back to Anselme. “I see they didn’t throw you into the Vault,”
he remarks lightly.
Luca
Black nearly lifted from his seat as Anselme entered the room–he had done
nothing but brood in silence since they’d arrived ahead of the Knight, and in
his brooding he’d spent a good portion of time worrying about Anslelme’s fate.
Call it paranoia…but he didn’t trust the better judgement of those in power
in Ishgard. He smiled, if only slightly, as Anselme took his seat. Bandages
wrapped around his face, covering his nose bridge–the faint traces of rust red
seeped through them. “Glad you’re okay,” said the boy,
before adding. “You….are okay, right?”
Just finished for my bro @ser-gemini and his plot/campaign in Final Fantasy XIV. I had a ton of fun drawing these guys–they’re such a unique looking cast! Hope you guys enjoy!
A poster I commissioned from @ivbenjaminart for the plot/campaign I’m running right now! I love love love love it!!!
Roses And Grimoires 