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| No title. |
| (2013-03-11 - Now) |
| No description. |
| Faruja Senra | Between the attack on Traverse, Avira's transformation, and other revelations from his friends in the Shard Seekers, along with the ongoing sickness of his beloved wolf, the Burmecian has had quite a bad week. Therefore, he has finally stepped away from guarding and generally fussing over the ill wolfess. Walking along the brick roads, he stares off at the massive and majestic Montressor Spaceport. Once again, he finds himself standing at the edge of the plaza and watching as a spaceship takes off, so very much like his own world's ships. But IN SPACE. Dreaming of spreading the Church amongst the stars, he smiles to himself, concerns forgotten briefly as his tail gently sways behind him. "Oh Lord, grant us the knowledge and wisdom to share Your Word to all whom hath not learned it." |
| Artyom W. Valodjn | There is someone else at the plaza of Traverse Town's impressive spaceport. A gate to distant lands, this place has seen quite a bit of the young traveller in recent days. Today, though, he is not going anywhere. Or rather, he's probably not going to be going anywhere intentionally. The massive warrior has been seen around town in a number of different areas- most notably, tucked away in safe alleyways, surrounded by cats. It is the young man's policy to get to know as many of the Top Cats in town as possible, as their hideaways tend to be very secure places to hunker down for an evening without being disturbed. Today is a day much like that one: spent finding a decent place to nap. Unfortunately, the docks are always busy, and the cats that sleep here are capable of doing so much more soundly than their guest. He naps lightly at the foot of a nearby staircase, a rather scraggly looking blue-grey feline with a single eye snoozes on the ground at his side Its other eye has been clawed out of his face, leaving a shut lid, covered by a long cross-hatched scar. He is too proud to sleep in the lap of a human guest. Even if this guest is particularly large. Artyom awakens at the Burmecian's musing, a single eye opening over crossed arms wrapped around a colossal, concealed /thing/ that vaguely resembles an oversized stone club covered in white bandages. "...Praying, is it? But if you do not possess the knowledge of your god's word, then wouldn't you need to learn it first, before you preach?" |
| Faruja Senra | Two ears, one more ragged than the other, twitch and tilt towards the sound of a voice. Turning about, Faruja regards the man he woke with some amount of awe. His first thoughts are roughly along the lines of 'that is one large human, he'd make a great Templar' followed swiftly by 'kitty!'. Despite a love for animals, as a farm rat, he can't help but instinctually show some teeth towards the small cat. Cue one-eyed stare off! Cough. The rat tilts his head slightly, and smiles. "Ahh, nay, good Ser! 'Tis merely my desire to spread the Word itself, with so many worlds seemingly ignorant of the Lord! Ahh...I do suppose the phrasing could use some work." A bow is given, tail counter-balancing him even as he looks the massive man over, and his strange weapon. "Temple Knight Faruja Senra of the Most Holy Church of Saint Ajora Glabados, at your service. Lord bless, and mayhap the day treats you favorably?" Stalking closer, he finally speaks his mind. Sleeping in a stairwell...it draws a frown to the rat. "Ahh...hardly do I wish to be rude, however...you are aware that there is an inn within the town? Free of charge at that, so long as one minds naught slaying a few Abominations in the process." |
| Artyom W. Valodjn | Unfortunately for the rat and innocent young princesses all across the realms, Artyom is already a knight of sorts, and he is already in possession of a master. Although the ties that bind him to his Boss are now tenuous at best, following the loss of the world of Galianda. But Artyom serves as his family does, regardless. His shoulders dip as he inclines his head respectfully toward the one-eyed knight. Meanwhile, the cat at his side regards the fieldmouse with the sort of glare that suggests it was contemplating an early dinner. Of course, cats napping do not easily become cats hunting, and so it rolls over and goes back to sleep in rather short order. "I see. I'm not sure how many are 'seemingly' ignorant, however. I am Artyom, student, geomancer and- thus far- the last of the Titanic. How do you do?" Bones pop and slide back into place as the massive man idly cranes his neck, straightening his back. He seems to grow taller as he does so- probably because he's no longer slouching over his weapon's crossguard. "Oh," Artyom says, glancing at the boss cat when prompted, "It is no trouble. I am simply being frugal- and searching for good places to rest when the day grows long. I find that gatherings of cats are usually nice spots, mmn?" He squints, "...Though I was unaware that there were many Abominations in town." Certainly no horrible cybernetic spider-ladies with poison gas! |
| Faruja Senra | So very animal-like, the ratling tilts his head to the other side, tail's tail curling slightly. Head canting upwards as Artyom stands, he feels about as large as...well, a mouse. So much so that he takes a step back so he can properly look the man in the eyes without straining his neck. Being short has his downsides! "My, my, my! I had not taken you for the sort...strange arts, geomancy. Aside from White, the magic never was my forte at any rate. One would be surprised, however, upon the difficulty of removing an entire people. Scattered as many worlds have become, do not let the flame of hope fade from thy heart! Do enlighten me, however, upon the nature of the Titantic? At first I had merely thought you a large human." As for how he's doing? "Truthfully, much troubles the residents of this city as of late, myself no less. However, with Faith, effort, and a touch of luck I do believe my troubles shall pass as they are wont to do in time." Optimistic, this rat, in the face of problems. A hand rubs the back of his head. Laying with /felines/? He tries to suppress a shiver and fails to do so. "...Ahh...mayhap not for me, thank you good Ser. The last time I thought to lay down with the yard animals, Arista nearly rolled over and flattened me. 'Tis not wise to sleep next to even the kindest of wyverns. Shifty sorts at night, you see. Snapping teeth rather than stealing the covers." A hand motions towards the town at large. "They haunt nearly every shadow in these dark times! Mayhap I speak overly broad. In specific, I mean the Heartless. Recently the city was nearly overrun by them, were it not for brave souls whom came to the city's defense." |
| Artyom W. Valodjn | "Mm. I see," Artyom replies, thinking back to the... colorful writing on the walls, as of late. "That would explain the graffiti. I was out of town at the time, it seems. It's good that this place survived." Because if it went, what would happen to all the cats!? Poor cats. Well, cats are resilient, they'd probably escape out via the Kitten Tunnels like they always do. Artyom may or may not believe that cats can teleport from world to world if allowed to go stray and unwatched for long periods of time. This belief that may or may not exist might carry a grain of truth. "But, yes. I am learned in both sword and sorcery. It seemed to me to be a prudent choice." His shoulders roll, the bones grinding in their sockets like granite joints in an marble wall, before popping happily into place. "Often, I find that others will not be as diligent in protecting themselves from one or the other- and so I am familiar with both. You see my logic, hmn?" Artyom chuckles. It's a deep, good natured laugh. "As for my people," he thinks for a moment, considering. His eyebrows knit tight. "Well. I could speak of them at length. But we are Hume- like others, though we carry the might and essence of the First Earth in our blood." Hence the height- and the size, and the weapon. "I suppose that you could call us blessed by our patron. The Sky-Breaking Mountain. But as far as I know, I am the only one who remains. I'm certain there are more, however- I'm not concerned. We are a hardy sort." He inclines his head slightly, curiously, "I could explain more, but it would... take me a little while." "Also, cats- cats are quite good hosts once you get to know them. If you provide them with privacy, warmth and silence, they'll often be quite friendly." |
| Faruja Senra | Faruja nods in agreement. "Far too many homes vanish into the night as it stands. To lose /this/ place? I fear 'twould shatter the interconnected worlds." Plus, no more kitties. And who would want that? Folding a hand behind his back, hidden by the sleeves of his robes, The Templar tilts his head. "While there is something to be said for specialization in armies, so too are there roles for generalists. If you are of the adventuring persuasion, even moreso. Truly, to be able to withstand magical as well as physical attacks is a useful trait, however 'tis rare. Never a lack for exploiting the opponent's weakness." He perks up considerably as Artyom speaks of his people. Eventually, he flicks his tail dismissively. "Mmm, tall and as harty looking as the mountains themselves, from the looks of things. Aptly named. Mean you to say that the salt of your world's genesis runs through thy veins? Are there other humes so inclined to certain characteristics? What was the name of th world." Then, he shakes his head. "Ahh, but forgive me, my curiousity oft gets the better of me. Worry naught, more than enough to research later. Regardless, welcome to Traverse Town if none hath welcomed thee. Felines...I find seem to feel I resemble some form of rodent, and therefore take ill to me. Not unlike the humans of Archades, really." |
| Artyom W. Valodjn | "Oh? You would think that resembling a mouse would in fact attract the cats to you." For a meal. Or possibly for the thrill of chasing something several orders of magnitude larger than they are- because if it looks like a mouse and smells like a mouse, it might just run like a mouse. "I've never been to this Archades place, however. Do the people there resemble rodents as well?" "Those from my world- Galianda- are much more varied than the people I've seen in these new planes," Artyom explains, "We of Titan are either very tall or very small, and resilient regardless of size. The ones born of Shiva can withstand intense cold, while the Levitani are incredible swimmers. Of all of us, the Odynar and we Titanic are the most overt with our heritage. While we have very divergent sizes, they..." Artyom pauses, pondering of a way to describe it. And then he says, "They are born with steel in their bodies, and this steel grows along with them. In all of us, the blood of the ancients runs strong. But we're all the same species, you see." The blessings of infernal or divine powers are often the cause of a lot of very strange mutations, after all. Magic is weird like that. "Though I've never encountered many... Demihumans, before. We were mostly Hume, there." |
| Faruja Senra | "Archades, the seat of the Archadian Empire. Its current larger holdings include its home city, as well as the city of Rabanastre. Quite possibly the most singularly powerful military, given its fleet of airships and large standing army. Archades is well known for its human-centric policies in a diverse world. Disgusting if one were to inquire as to my opinion. Are not all the Lord's children, in their myriad forms? However, I may be more than a touch biased." The rat smirks at that. A whistle escapes him. "/Steel/ you say? How remarkable! May the Lord bless me with a meeting of such a unique people. I must say, thy world seems most wonderous! My, my, my I shall most certainly look into this." Tail flicking about behind him, it shows off his excitement quite well, even though the rest of him stands mostly still. "A shame, that. My own world, Gaea, is...was most diverse in that regard. We know precious little of the origins of so many species, however, there are some whom speculate the Mist -a magical fog native to our world- may have something to do with it. Why, 'twould not surprise me to learn that the blood of dragons runs through my people's veins!" his chest puffs up a bit proudly as he speaks. |
| Artyom W. Valodjn | "Mmn. We have those," Artyom says with a slight chuckle, "Bahamuti are never Hume. They are always dragons. Never born from Hume mothers, of course. But the blood of the First Sky runs through their veins, as the First Earth runs through mine. I wish I could show Bahamut and Titan to the people I've met, out here, but..." "Well," Artyom sighs, "That's a bit impossible, right now." "Let's... not dwell on things that we can't do anything about. I think I've come near Rabanastre once or twice before, but I've never visited. But, you know, a nation is free to govern as it chooses. Even if those policies are hateful. In time, people will eventually realize that to discriminate is ultimately pointless- though I suppose waiting patiently isn't much of a possibility for many." Artyom quiets for a moment, his broad shoulders rolling again to correct a minor misalignment in his vertibrae. These things are normal when you are Tall. "However, little mouse, I'm relatively certain that I'm not one of your deity's progeny," Artyom chuckles, leaning slightly on his weapon. "And I'm certain that there are others who know their heritage to differ from the one recorded in your texts." |
| Faruja Senra | "Then I simply /must/ meet meet these 'Bahamuti'! The fabled King of Dragons...to have such within..." The Templar shivers, then rubs his hands happily. Faruja makes a show of looking at his guantleted claws. "'Tis the responsibility of a nation's citizens to hold its leaders accountable for their policies. Should the nation fail in doing what is best for the people as a whole, then 'tis a useless institution." Is all the rat says on the subject. He's already skirting dangerous territory with his words! Slowly, the rat's single eye narrows, and he stands as tall as his five foot one frame can. Staring into the much taller human's eye, his disapproving look may fall a bit flat. "Ho, Ser! All are the Lord's children, given flesh and consciousness by His Divine Hand! The Lord's power is infinite, to attribute one's birth to anything other than the Divine is to spit in the eye of Holy Faram!" States the rat rather testily. All of his stress and irritation comes flooding back. The resulting bow is short. "If you will excuse me, I should check upon my ill companion." Pause. His features soften somewhat. "Good day, and well met, Ser. By your leave." With that, he stalks off, before his temper makes him do something he'll regret! |