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| No title. |
| (2012-09-19 - 2012-09-21) |
| No description. |
| Faruja Senra | Ahh, the task of information gathering. Really, all it takes is a good set of ears and a few questions applied strategically. In a place such as Traverse Town, there's a wealth of information to be discovered. Unfortunately, there are simply far too many tongues for one rat! Add in minor attacks by the Heartless? Busy Templar has been busy, questioning, and generally doing his duty for Church. With one final letter dropped off to the local inter-dimensional trusted courier, and the tiny moogle scampering off, Faruja finally has a moment to rest. Spear, partially peace-bound, clanks against robe-covered armor and bricks as he leans against a wall looking over the main roadway. He's just outside of the massive hotel (thankfully both free and deemed untainted by anything unholy) as his single eye gazes about the passing crowd. Even for a person so used to many different kinds of peoples as the ratling, the variety is astonishing. Digging into his robes, Faruja pulls out his hip-flask, swallowing down a nice relaxing pull. He doesn't get to enjoy it, however; a burning sensation at the neck, sliding down his arm at first, then across the bandaged portions of his chest beneath has him coughing and choking. Metal hits ground as he falls to a knee, half-curled and clutching his arm. A strangled squeak of agony leaves his muzzle. |
| Morgan | A certain Elf, though finding the visit to Traverse mostly beneficial, is nonetheless forced to skulk around and keep inconspicuous at times. For if there are Heartless, there is a deep wariness in her heart and soul that makes 'keeping aloof' an absolute priority. It had been during the 'daytime' in Traverse (still dark, dark dark...) that the mage had run her errands: collecting some fabric here, stationary there... other little sundries such as potions and the like. But when the day marches along in that steady progression of time and some are preparing to settle indoors for the 'night'. This place may have odd hours, but the circadian rhythms of one's body just cannot be wrong! Morgan, however.. is not tired. Well, mentally anyway... but she is body tired. Tired as she almost always seems to feel, these days. She traipses through streets that are nonetheless busy, willowy frame wrapped in the fitted shroud of her black and wine-red cloak, hood pulled up to keep her hair in order. Morgan feels that, very promptly, she must get to that hotel and get indoors. The cloak dissuades quite a few townfolk from engaging her, and as she moves she feels apologetic for having to be so aloof. She must get indoors. However, something is amiss.. and Morgan, in her hasty flight to the privacy of her room, cannot bypass this. A clank of metal, a staccato of coughs.. and a squeak; all of these sounds rend the air and the Elf gives pause. Her hooded head turns toward the body of Faruja Senra as he crouches, hacking in evident agony. Gasping, Morgan breaks into a sprint, her tiredness forgotten. Swiftly and nigh-silently, she comes to the knight's side and kneels, setting one pale hand to his shoulder. "Sir? Are you---" Blink, he's clutching his arm. "Should I hollar for a healer?" Morgan asks desperately. |
| Faruja Senra | A soft hand on his shoulder, a cloak of red...a sense of Deja Vu forces its way into Faruja's skull. Tilting his head, he tries to get a better look at his well-wisher before another wave of pain convinces himself that's a bad idea. Trembling, he bites his cheek, unwilling to seem weak with a captive audience. He should be used to this by now; it's been months since his encounter with Alexandria's Black Mages. Yet, it hasn't gotten any easier. "Ahh...'Tis but a passing weakness, M'Lady. Forgive me for frightening you. Little more can be wrought upon my flesh by a mortal healer's hand, I am afraid. Lord bless your kindness." He manages, not quite able to hide the lingeirng misery. Slowly, his trembling stops, and he rises to both legs shakily. Manners for once are shoved aside in favor of regaining his breath, fatigue from his work only making things worse. Wall, and if offered, elf both will be used to keep him upright as he gets to grips with himself. |
| Morgan | "What manner of misery is this? T'is as if you're being pulled apart, so wrought is your pain.." Morgan asks softly of the ailing knight, even after his insistance that she 'not worry'. The Elf knows one who is putting forth a brave face, when she sees it; while at the same time they are in the grips of such suffering. Faruja eventually slakes off all efforts to hide his hurt and Morgan shall go on kneeling before him, hand resting resolutely upon his shoulder as she feels the trembling ease. Bit by bit.. No doubt the two draw a few curious looks, but the Elf hardly notices. She goes on watching Faruja's face from within the shadows of her hood, asking other questions in her mind... why the bandages? War wounds? And his rightmost eye is bandaged and covered up... what /has/ this knight gone through? It is to be noted that Morgan hardly reels at seeing a humanoid rat... despiting having never before /encountered/ a Burmecian before, the obvious pain that this one is in steamrolls over any and all curiousity. Almost preternaturally motionless, Morgan continues to watch Faruja's face and once he makes to stand, the Elf rises with him while holding the elbow attached to the shoulder that she touched previously. "Come, you must find a place to sit to regain yourself.." She coaxes softly, indicating with a nod the hotel. "Only when you are ready to walk. I can guide you." She encourages, standing now at her full height and not letting the ratling go. |
| Faruja Senra | With his mask of stoicism melting away before the kindness of this elven lady, Faruja unconsciously consigns himself to her care. While certainly stubborn, he's more than enough of a healer to sense a kindred spirit...in manner, at least. Much like Morgan herself, the ratling could care less about any stares he gets. He's well used to it by now, and has other priorities aside. Such as getting on his feet. Leaning on the taller elf, the ratling belatedly notes the ears. What variety of humans there are! Any scents are lost on him at the moment; despite his great sense of smell, he's too polite to try it in such close quarters. "Wounds ill healed, M'Lady, even with the best of magery. Flames oft burn to bone's quick, leaving naught but flesh black as a demon's heart with a will to equal torments and agonies." Why is he admitting this? Such immediate kindness from a stranger, such care despite knowing nothing of him? It touches the rat deeply. If but the world had more such as this one! "Yes...yes, I think that best. My apologies for troubling you so, kind Lady. Though I look it naught, trembling like a frightened babe...Temple Knight Faruja Senra of Burmecia, M'Lady. May I know the name of one so possessed of the Lord's benevolence?" He lets her guide him towards the hotel, a small smile on his muzzle. A shake of the head. He must look a sight! |
| Morgan | Oh, if only she were a healer. Why couldn't it have been her mother who took her under her wing and taught her curative magic, as opposed to her father? Mind you, Faruja just mentioned the notion that healing magic could not touch this hurt. But Fates, even a poultice or some sort of draught to relax him... All Morgan can do is hurt.. The ratling's cryptic words, talk of demons and the like, only serve to imbue the Elf with a deeper pang of dread. In response to this she shores up her grip upon Faruja, one arm banded around his back, the other pulled forth to grip his unharmed elbow. With strength granted to her by way of this height difference, Morgan eases Faruja up the steps and into the main lobby of the luxurious hotel. "Worry not, knight. T'is no trouble.. I would suspect you would do the same, were our roles reversed." Morgan says to the white-furred ratling in a truly soft voice, before piping up to those in the room -- specifically the desk clerk -- who just go on gawping in surprise. She is not angry, but somewhat forceful. "Water, please! Or some manner of strong spirit!" She calls out, before easing Faruja over into a rather plush armchair. |
| Faruja Senra | How embarrassing! Faruja does his best to ignore the stares. He's a Temple Knight! Even for one lowly as he, there should be respect for the position. Thankfully, those gaping are chastised and set to work by our elven heroine! With a pair of scurrying hotel guests gone, he finally relaxes a bit, and begins to truly catch his breath. "'Twould be my duty, indeed. The Divine has a sense of humor, do surmise. Though I know well the healing arts, my own wounds escape me. 'Physician, heal thyself' indeed!" The rat responds, voice weak but with a touch of self-deprecating humor. When one of the hotel-goers return, there's a full glass of whiskey. The Burmecian wisely decides to sip it, rather than throw down like he otherwise would. |
| Katyna | There seems to be a bit of a small crowd gathering to watch as the mysterious hooded girl brings in the wounded Burmecian. Among the small gathering is a girl with short black, red-streaked hair, dressed in gold and crimson armour. For a time, she watches from the shadows, but eventually, when the crowd disperses a little, she steps forward, offering the Burmecian. "Here, try this. It should heal your wounds!" She says brightly, and then smiles as she recognizes him. "Heey..We've met before, haven't we?" Yes indeed, they have, although she never received a name from him that she can recall.. As for the hooded girl, Kit glances curiously at her. "What happened to him?" |
| Morgan | Of course it had been due to the shock of seeing someone practically being carried in that warranted those stares. Morgan feels badly for having snapped like that, but it.. it had to be done! And why, in using that forceful voice, had there been an 'aftershock' of something unsettling in her gut? Morgan looks back to Faruja as he speaks and her brow furrows, noting his attempt at some manner of humor but unable to well and truly chuckle. One lithe hand leaves the Burmecian's elbow and she pushes back her hood, revealing her visage and a shock of black tresses. In it, an ornate silver circlet. Can't be sitting in this lobby, looking so shady. "What manner of wounds have you, sir Knight, to---" Pause, ah.. there's the whiskey, given along with hopes to 'feel better'. Morgan reaches for the flash with a bow of her head. "Thank you---" By now the Elf realizes that they are now a trio, and her glacial blue eyes lit to look upon the girl who has joined them. "He..." Pause. That armor... something familiar about that armor, not neecessarily in details but in coloration. Morgan must shake herself out of it. To Katyna, she says softly: "I found him outside, doubled over... no mage's hand can soothe him. I wonder if these afflictions are cursed.." She asks Faruja in a whisper. |
| Faruja Senra | Blink. Faruja's suddenly confronted by a potion, and a woman in armor. Recognition dawns as she speaks, having seen her out in the town! The healing draught is taken, and both women are properly looked at, their features studied even as he drinks it down. Though it certainly won't help his wounds directly, it eases the pain. Between alcohol and potion, he finally lets out a sigh. "Naught but the truth, M'Lady. Temple Knight Faruja Senra. You are..." a pause. Thinking back to his briefing, it all hits him. "Gariland Academy? Correct? Thank you. Both of you. Truly I am most blessed today to find such kind souls." Unlike his strong outbursts yesterday, Katyna might notice him being far quieter. Likely due to whatever had him doubling over. An ear perks, and the Burmecian puts a hand to his face. Unwraveling the bandages, he reveals the burnt portions; blackened flesh, scarred and half-melted over; the results of magical fire of considerable power. "Flames from the hands of demons. 'Twas the Lord's hand that spared me death, but as you have seen, not of feeling. Flame long since banished still searing hot, when they've a mind to be." Explanation done, he starts to cover himself again, heedless of a gasp from one of the forming group. |
| Katyna | The mysterious girl removes her hood, and...For a moment Katyna just stares at her in shock and surprise, mouth gaping open, speechless... No! Could it be..But, she died, didn't she? Kit shakes her head, her heart thumping quickly. But it looks like...Perhaps, maybe..She forces herself to relax. She didn't recognize her, so maybe..Yes, best to play it safe. She clears her throat, focusing upon Faruja so as not to give much away, thankful for Lord Draven's 'lessons' in subterfuge. "Aah, Sir Faruja! Nice t'meet ya! My name is Katyna Redsvaren, and indeed I'm from Gariland Academy!" she quips cheerily as she kneels next to him. "An' what about you? You're dressed like a Temple knight, but..I've never seen a..Err..Nezumi before." |
| Katyna | She glances back at Morgan again, having composed herself now and arches a brow at the explanation. "A curse, huh? How..Odd.." She frowns looking back at Faru. "Were you..Attacked by Heartless?" But when he speaks of the Lord saving him, she snorts just a little, shaking her head. "Or just luck, this girl saved you, no?" |
| Morgan | "You are welcome, sir Knight... Faruja Senra," Morgan echoes, her voice still smooth and low. A sort of dusky female timbre. Her nostrils pinch a little bit at the powerful smell of the whiskey and she knows, immediately, that one nip of that and she'll be feeling it. No doubt the warmth of the alcohol has since psread.. though Morgan has never before considered a curative draught chaser! It must be working, because Faruja seems to have calmed down a bit. Morgan reaches forth to set her palm upon the Burmecian's 'good' forearm, giving a gentle squeeze. "Just rest here, for as long as you must. You are safe here. I will be speaking to staff about getting you a room, unless you have one already.." The Elf says to Faruja, before silencing to hear tale of those-----wait, to /see/. The mouseling is removing those bandages--- Morgan breathes deeply, sharply; her brows furrow and though it pains her to see such damage, she does not avert her gaze. "Demons.." She whispers, before shaking her head slowly. "I am so sorry, sir Senra.." She trails off, looking up at the armored girl as she speaks up. The surprise that Katyna wears, Morgan chalks up to the sight of Faruja's scars... unsuspecting. "Katyna Redsvaren.." She repeats, committing the girl's name to memory though that little pang of deja vu assaults her again. Albeit not enough to make her /too/ discomforted. Perhaps she passed this girl in town...? Looking between the two now, Morgan offers her own title. My name is Morgan Albaste, sir and lady." She says softly, though upon looking back to Faruja the mouseling may very well see the worry that doggedly remains upon her features. /Demons../ ...? |
| Faruja Senra | Faruja, distracted as he is by slowly dulling pain, doesn't catch the look from Katyna. "An honor, then, Dame Redsvaren. You do the Academy well, today." The Temple Knight frowns, however, giving Morgan a stern look as she scoffs, not quite up to his usual outbursts. "A nezumi, indeed. Nay, these wounds were wrought upon my flesh weeks past, before I knew of proper Faith or Church. My home, Burmecia, was sacked by humans most blacked hearted who employed demons that wielded the elements greater than the finest of Black Mages! Not only that, but the Heartless too fought at their beck and call! Heresy most foul! Heed my words well Dame Redsvaren, Lady Albaste. Should you ever encounter those that fly the banner of Alexandria, if they have survived my world's fall, then hold tight to your soul. Darkness true and what follows it lurks amongst them!" Strong returning to his voice, his tail curls about one arm of the chair tightly. The outburst causes him to wince, nearly working himself into another episode. Thankfully, it's that worried look from Morgan than has him slowly calming. A smile graces his muzzle. "Please. Just take care. Lord knows too many have fallen as things stand. I should hate to see either of you harmed, such hearts of ivory rare indeed." |
| Katyna | Katyna chances another sidelong glance at the girl again, although she is carefully composing her face now, careful not to reveal recognition, even if she slipped but briefly. "Demons huh, sounds more like heartless.." She smirks, "Guess you're never safe, not even in town. Y'know, they even have a strict curfew on this hotel, so that heartless dont get in. Of course they occasionally get in all the same. That's why they often hire guards to watch the hotel, keep it safe y'know?'" Then Faru lapses into more holy talk and Kit frowns a bit as she listens. "Hmmm..Your faith is strong, but it sounds like you came from another world entirely. Do you mean to say, after these...Demons attacked your world and joined with heartless, you somehow ended up joining the church of Glabados?" She blinks, "Wait, does that church exist in this world too.." Kit leans forward a bit, amber eyes openned excitedly as she ponders what this could possibly mean..She indeed had a few friends in the church ,even if they may see her as an abomination now..At least, if they knew what she had become. Still a part of her is concerned. And then he winces and Kit sits back, watching him with mild concern but not offering help. "Take your time and gather your strength. You're no good until your in top shape." The girl quips thougtfully, rather then move to his aid. |
| Morgan | The Elf is all ears, so to speak, as Faruja speaks rather powerfully -- even in his pained state -- of what happened to grant him such injuries and.. even worse, saw to the downfall of his home! She is completely still, eyes rivetted to the knight's bandaged face, her lips pressed into a tense and worried line. The unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach goes on roiling, and the name of 'Alexandria' is but an echo in her mind as she goes on trying to envision such.. diablerie. Heartless are terrible... those who employ them are horrible enough. But to wield both Heartless and demons..? Morgan, who had been kneeling at the arm of Faruja's chair, stands slowly. Her black tresses obscure her features briefly, and with a jabbing motio of splayed fingers she pushes the whole pile of it back over her shoulders. Heartless.... foul little creatures, or sometimes even beings that take hume shape. Rise up, /govern/ Heartless--- "Pardon me, sir and lady. The desk.. t'is clear... I must speak with the clerk." She says gently, looking between the two. For whatever reason, a flush has arisen upon Morgan's cheekbones; not of upset but it's as if she may or may not be faint. As she stands, she does not sway or falter however... and with a quick bow of her head, she glides over to the desk to speak about a room for Faruja.. whether he wants one or not! By Gods, the mouse shall rest! Room keys shall be brought over to him moments later... As arrangements are made, Morgan peers over her shoulder at Katyna and Faruja... between that knightess's familiarity and the Burmecian's grievous experiences... the Elf suddenly feels immensely tired. Her mind is awake, but it's as if her body is remembering... ... something.... |
| Faruja Senra | "Demons. Heartless are abominations foul, but these ones had eyes of sickly yellow and naught but malevolance in heart. Oh, so very numerous...'twas enough to set fear in even the bravest nezumi." Though in his more zealous moments Faruja's sanity might be questionable, at the moment, he's perfectly lucid. Whatever physical pain pales as his eye grows glassy, a far away look in his gaze. Memories of horrors threaten to swallow him, and a clawed hand grips his cross. Whispering a prayer, he returns to reality. Twin ears perk, and the rat nods. "Yes...I shan't push myself. The Church indeed survives, enough to see to my keeping amongst the living. Worry not, fine knight of Gariland, the Lord protects his Servants until their appointed time. We of the Holy Templarate shan't rest until the sickness that took mine and so many other worlds is cleansed." Soon enough, a frown graces the rat's muzzle as Morgan appears near faint! "Lord bless her, that my blunt words not shake her soul overmuch. Harsh, but I lack a tongue of silver, and they are words ill thrown aside." |
| Katyna | Kit nods, settling down on the seat next to him. She has a lot to think about now and she briefly lapses into thoughtful silence as she ponders things...Hmm, so this Alexandria is under heartless control. Good. One less country to worry about. She'll have to check up on other places too. She does not offer any sympathy to the Nezumi's loss however, although she does offer some sort of encouragement. "I guess..Nothing can be done about your losses, except..To become stronger! This is also what I'm trying to do." She smiles cheerfully, "Become strong enough that I dont have to fear anyone, that I dont have to depend on any one any longer to protect me!" For a moment, Kit nearly reveals her own troubled history, but she is hesitant to do that of course. Instead, she watches Morgan for a moment thoughtfully, "Hmm, so that girl..I wonder what world she came from? She seems..I dunno, really tired. Lost almost." she shrugs. She'll definitely be keeping a closer eye on Morgan now that she's found her, but what to do about the whole thing..? Alas, it seems the girl has retired for the night, so Kit will have to stay in the hotel a little longer too. She looks back at Faru again when he speaks all about religious stuff and chuckles a bit. "Heh, you remind me of someone. He always preached to me like that too, a real faithful type, Temple Knight too an' all, but..." She sighs, "That faith didnt save any of 'em..." For a moment, the girl looks a bit sad at the memory as she hangs her head, glancing at her hands. |
| Faruja Senra | How upbeat! Faruja's gaze shifts to a sad, sympathetic smile upon hearing her desire and story. He's quiet throughout, eye half-lidded. A hand takes up his glass, still mostly full, and he sips and swishes the liquid thoughtfully. "Self-improvement, strength...you speak rightly. Strive for them. The Lord loves most those who improve themselves. But if I may impart but one thing to you, M'Lady Knight, then find trusty blade, or staff, or fist to stand beside. One cannot always protect onesself in every situation, no matter how fearless or strong. For there are always those greater. Stout allies are worth a century of service on the battlefield, in my estimation." A pause, and long sip. "Far too common a malady. This town, Traverse, is aptly named. So many lost worlds, and poor souls set adrift, pulled here only by the Lord's grace and the guidance of Holy Ajora. Yet, for all her frame, such kindness often belies stout soul. She will adjust. As will we all, if we wish to move forward." On the matter of the lost Holy Knight, the Burmecian bows his head respectfully. "Faith shields the soul, and offers us a measure of courage in trying times. But mortal flesh is weak, even amongst the heartiest of races. That is why we have the gift of the arts of war, in all of their beauty and terror, that we might protect the weak and purge the shadow. Your comrade, though a fine Temple Knight no doubt, I knew naught. A tragedy indeed, for I would have liked more companions in faith and steel yet. I am but a humble Templar, no preacher's wisdom within me. So many theories I could give over why some die and others yet live, of equal or lesser Faith. But I shan't insult your friend's memory through such baseless things. All I can say is that he is with the Lord now, free of suffering in eternal paradise. And so too does he remain, in your heart. Soul and memory both preserved. Remember that, should it comfort your pain at all. Else? The ramblings of a foolish Knight." |
| Katyna | Damn, what's she doing? To show such weakness..And in front of others no less! She chuckles a bit, straightenning up as she looks back at Faru with that wry smirk of hers. "Heh, nothin' I can't handle? I've stared death in the face countless times in the past, nothin' to do but move foward!" She grins, patting her sword at her side. "Night Ember and I have been through a lot together, dont worry 'bout us! I am curious to hear what has become of Glabados though!" She bites her lip, considering. Should she trust this strange Nezumi Knight? It's worth a shot! "Yeah! I'm gonna travel the world and seek out new opponents to fight! I'll become strong enough that I wont fear even death itself, but..I wonder if they survived. Those people. The holy knight, Sir Castien..He was the strongest person I knew.." Kit looks back at Faru, "Where is glabados? Is it in this world still? Has some semblance of Ivalice truly survived that catastrophe? I should visit. Maybe..Yes, I'd like to...Put my soul at rest.." |
| Faruja Senra | "Truthfully, M'Lady, I cannot say. Only after my world's fall...and presumably, Ivalice's, did my association with the Church begin. A life saved, and a life now owed in service to Faram and Church. Matters of Ivalice and Church prior to now? Ignorance consumes me, I have but only the most rudimentary knowledge. Issues of greater import have consumed the Templarate and Church than the education of one such as I in matters now trivial. However, baptised in the Holy Light like all Templar in Holy Mullonde have I been. My presence here is proof of it's endurance. The Lord's Light shan't fade by the touch of Heartless abominations! As for the rest? Such remains to be seen." The Burmecian, now mostly recovered, sips his drink with more savour despite the topic. "Then, you saw no body of your brave friend? Have faith, then, oh strong and ambitious Dame. Hope remains. Friends and hearts close too, have I lost, but so many are thrown to the wind. Only the Lord can say who remains. Without proof of demise, then there is a /chance/. And before Lord, Holy Son, and Church do I swear to you, that should I learn of his fate, I shall do all that I can to speed news of it to you. Such suffering in one so light of spirit, I shan't abide." |
| Katyna | "Thanks!" She quips cheerfully when he tries to encourage her. Indeed, they may be out there somewhere. Would she be forced to fight them, along with the rest of the church? But..She just needs to know more.. "Gee Mister, you sure are nice, to a total stranger no less!" Still not that she minds, "Heey, are there other templar knights in town? I've only seen you so far. Of course I havent really ventured far out of Traverse. I mean, who knows *what's* out there, honestly? But! I did hear about some church in town. They were handing out flyers, trying to draw people there, talking about giving people faith and hope in light of the heartless attacks. Is that also run by Glabados?" |
| Faruja Senra | Faruja's muzzle presses into a line. One ear tilts. "'Tis a duty of the faithful to be honest and true, to only keep silent upon that which should be known by the annointed alone. I do naught but my duty. To tell it plain, I could not say. Of but low rank, I am not privy to much. But...I have been made aware of no others. And certainly not, this Church in this town is not kept by Holy Ajora, as best I know it. By whom it may be ran, is something I indeed intend to discover. Why such interest in Church affairs?" The rat questions, tilting his head and flicking his tail. |
| Katyna | Katyna shrugs, "Well, that Templar Knight taught me a lot about Glabados teachings. He believed that if one had strong enough faith, they could overcome anything..I suppose the church had yet more mysteries left for me to discover but things ended too quickly and the heartless came in. Now.." she shrugs. "I guess I'm just curious, to know if faith would have made me strong enough to defeat the heartless or...." Amber eyes narrow as she rises suddenly. No, she is saying too much. Best to follow this guy around for a bit, see what she can learn from him. Kit shrugs again, chuckling as she stifles a yawn. "Aah, but it's late, and I should get going. Hey Faru, it was nice talking to you, let's hang out again sometime! I'd love to get in a good sparring match with you too!" And with a wink and a grin, she's gone as quickly as she came. |