eastbound | Entries tagged with final fantasy xiv: vrtra

BACKDATED TO FEBRUARY 13TH

[ As soon as she is dismissed by the king, Yelena hurries to find a hidden corner of the fortress from which to broadcast. When the video starts, she looks flushed and sounds slightly out of breath, as if she was just running. ]

First of all, I must thank whichever one of you tipped off the king about the anonymous message claiming he sold us to Rathakku. He accused me of plotting his assassination so that was fun.

[ She glares into her stopwatch communicator, unamused. ] Maybe loop me in next time, yes?

[ A dismissive wave of her hand before she moves on to the real reason for this video. ]

We had an interesting conversation. Of all of us, I have probably spent the most time around Deimar. I do not believe he has sold us to Rathakku. I can't get into the details but I am asking everyone to please trust my judgment. I am not easy to convince.

More importantly, whether or not we've been sold is the least of our worries. There is something in Alem that Rathakku is after. Something he wants even more than hell itself. We need to figure out what it is and keep it from him.

I am also worried for Cle-Florens. I don't think her safety is Alem's priority. [ That's her delicate way of saying the poor girl has shitty brothers. ] We need to find a way to keep her protected.

Okay, I think that's everything. Bye! [ Another wave of her hand, this one much friendlier, and then the video goes dark. ]

inferus

( The video opens on the largest fissure in the Room of Seals, revealing the stairs that lead into the dark. Black eyes dart into view and then fade. The imagery shifts to the many other cracks filling the room. Wrath speaks, voice hard and ancient in the way of war: )

This version of Hell grows more restless by the hour. The dark water we've encountered before infects it. Every act of violence and rage, every death and spirit feed it further.

( Wrath's hand dips into the largest fissure. The dark liquid smoke pouring out of it wraps around his palm and the length of his arm. As if greeting an old, almost-familiar friend. He spreads his palm out and the smoke obeys, skittering back in through the crack.

The temperature in the room dips then. Ice pours from him across and within the fissure, sealing it. The ice continues to spread from his point of contact across the floor and walls, spilling into the hallway. The ground quakes as he pushes back against the power attempting to shove its way out.

The video then turns to Wrath: his gold eyes flash with anger, with violence that he pulls back within himself. His jaw locks as he surveys the room. )

...this will not hold long. These fissures will split the room open, but we may buy them time to replenish their forces and allow for more of their people to escape.

If you have magic or power, if you are capable of guarding and sending messages in the days to come, go to the Room of Seals. I will be waiting.

stephanivien

[ The video is a clear capture down in the forges, the device propped up on a worktable of some sort, with curled pieces of parchment and scattered writing sticks of charcoal scattered across the desk, though all details of plans are neatly swept out of view.

Instead, is centered a quite tall man with pointed ears, a hint of soot smeared across his cheek, while behind him lie large loam moldings, as well as a couple strangely shaped large metal components, nearly as tall as the man himself. ]

Greetings! My name is Stephanivien, and I am something of an inventor and maker of armaments by trade. With a gracious deal from King Deimar, I have begun the manufacture of several improvements to help those borne to the towers with defenses. However! There is only so much one man can do alone.

[ He moves closer to table, placing down both hands an leaning in towards the device. ]

Most immediately pressing, in this case, is the dragon problem facing the Southern Tower. Luckily enough, dealing with dragons in this manner is something I am unfortunately quite familiar with. I've been focusing on a modification of a previously existing design of mine, especially in light of the desire to capture over...[ He pauses, clearly searching for a way to say 'death', except the dragon is already dead. ] ...more permanent measures.

In light of such things I should like to request two forms of assistance! First, to any and all engineers, tinkerers, inventors or all else of the mechanical sort, I would be deeply appreciative of any willing extra hands and partners to brainstorm and build. You will, of course, be welcome to work on your own projects as well, utilizing the space, and as any worker of a manufactory, compensated for your efforts and time.

[ He pauses to sift through a sheaf of parchment just at the edge of view, before pulling out something that from the brief view appears to be something alike an employment contract. ]

Second! To any mages of skill, particularly those already among the towers: I am quite adept at the melding of machinery and magecraft, but there remain questions of both energy storage and also finer details in terms of how, exactly, we wish for this to operate. On the base level, it will be not dissimilar to a typical ballista, though augmented for the expectation of its target, but the design comes in more question with the desired bolt. My initial thoughts were something alike mechanical claw, with a requisite chain for attachment. However, I believe added magical character, as well as additional strength to both bolt and chain will be required if we take that tack as opposed to a more traditional harpoon.

[ He reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, briefly, smearing more soot across his face. ]

I'm quite well versed with the magic of my home, but not of that available to those here. Frankly, I will need to know what is possible for those of you who will end up manning the thing to sustain before I can get too deep into the manufacturing of it.

jatharin

( The first transmissions is recorded footage, clearly captured by a pendant held by a shaking hand. Before it, legions of heterogenous, misshaped demons part for the gilded palanquin of Duke Rathakku, his long tendril legs seeping off his cushions.

Beneath his litter, death hounds feast on the fresh remains of a man carrying a peace stindard.

Rathakku appears untroubled, unhurried, indifferent: )

Tell your new king... he will have the peace of the old. And we, we will give it to him. If you can reach him.

( Only more seconds capturing footage of fumbling feet and gracel, the pendant carrier stumbles back, starting to run —

Before the transmission switches to the lightly amused face of Alem's king Deimar, whistling: )

...friendly sort, isn't he? That was four months ago. He's softened since. I'd say the colder weather agrees with him. It's good for you new recruits to see that. To see him. It builds character. ( A pause, then helpfully: ) ...spoils appetites, too! Means less dinner for you, more supplies for the morning. We've all won here.

( But the joy seeps from him. ) I know what you have come for. The beacon. I accept you. It's honest trade, we need the hands. Hells, fond welcome. And to those of you serving as envoys, we'll raise a cup to you first. I should hope there's meat on your bones!

Now, a few... guidelines! As it were. What are you? Madmen, criminals, thieves, mercenaries? I don't care to know. Under my roof, I'll have none of that quarrel. ( Steely: ) No squabble, no torture, no rape. We're in tight quarters, blood runs hot. But you'll somehow prevail over any instincts. No... innocent stabbing. There's enough of that in the Wards of late.

I understand some of you are joining the watch towers. I'll come see you. It's ugly work, and you won't thank me. But I thank you. If that bitch Irenia flies by, remember: she's an ugly, slow whore, and you can take a sharp stick's end to her throat. ( Silence, then breezily: ) I don't mind if you do that our merchant friends, either. Just make sure you've learned where they've stored their grains first. ( Light coughing. ) Don't let Haiva hear that. We're to be friends with one and all! Even when they skin us for gold.

As it stands, the day's news: we prepare to evacuate new convoys of our weakest civilians every five days. Unfortunately, Rathakku is... either remarkably intuitive or well informed. He seems to find our escape corridors in the mountain and blockade them. So! We start anew, with fresh escape routes. Do help. And if you can keep our vulnerable on their feet and not trip up the paladins who are working in the Gut's Bind, even better.

By the way, we cut any hands laid unkindly on healers. We can likely spare you more than them.

And the punishment for snitching to uncle Thyvault where the last of the good wine sits is worse than that. I'll deliver that one personally.

Now, good to have you! Die well.

( ooc: welcome to Alem & threadjack liberally c: )

eyeofthavnair

My fellow travelers. Before our guide asks us to move on from this...ah, relatively peaceful place, I have been wondering about your experiences with undead. What we saw in Serthica was not like the undead that I know of from my home world. Mayhap this is to be expected, when we are so far from the familiar...but I am curious if such an observation holds true for you as well.

So...do you have undead where you are from? What are they like? How did they come to be?

On Etheirys, most undead are classified as “ashkin”. There are some created by necromancers – that is, illegally created, of course – but others occur naturally. Festering humours, or lingering memories and unresolved feelings...anything that prevents the creature from returning to the Lifestream upon death.

...so - that is my understanding of undead. Will you tell me yours?

soloritur

[ Marcos shows his face on screen for the first time in what feels like a long time. The last couple months have been hard on everyone, and he's no exception. There's a small white dragon settled beside him, trying to get into the frame, that he pushes back. He knows he shouldn't have it, but it still follows him around like a puppy. It hurts his heart to think that it doesn't know it's dead.

Not what this is about. ]

Hey there. [ He clears his throat. ] Listen, we need to talk. It's... been a rough few weeks. It was hard enough keeping track of everyone when we were separated between the two cities, but now. Now I think it might be time to take stock of survivors. Maybe make a list of who we've lost and who we need to look out for.

[ He remembers all the skeletons in the tower. They didn't seem like an illusion to him. ]

Kaneki is missing. Has been for a while. I wasn't worried until I found something he wouldn't have left behind if he had any choice in the matter. Luckily I got to it first. [ Which is why — ] I might need a hand with a beating heart in a box. I don't know if it has any other power, but the Merchant called it leverage, and I don't think I'm the right person to keep it safe. If anyone wants to take a look I'll send you my location.

[ The dragon makes a noise, and he rubs its head to keep it quiet. Sometimes he feels helpless, but it's important to remind himself of what he says next. ]

I know why most of you wanted to stay, to help these people, but be careful out there. Remember you're not alone.

clavesregni

[Caitlyn enthusiastically shows off a small wooden box. Visible on the lid is an insignia of a Minaras governmental medical facility. Over Caitlyn's shoulder is a redhead looking wholly uninspired by this discovery.]

This was found following an altercation with a group of drunk individuals. One man was tall, must have been a little over six feet, with a blond beard, head shaved, and some sort of tattoo visible on his neck. Another was a few inches shorter, clean-shaven and close-cropped black hair, wearing a rather ostentatious, if tattered, blue coat. The third was a few inches shorter still, also clean-shaven, with long brown hair tied in a ponytail and several scars along the length of his forearms.

[Vi rolls her eyes as Caitlyn rattles off these descriptions. Caitlyn, oblivious, continues:] Does anyone know who these men might have been? If they could be identified, they could perhaps be located and questioned as to how a box belonging to a medical facility came into their possession.

[Vi mutters,] Probably going to sell whatever it is to the highest bidder.

[At the interruption, Caitlyn glances over her shoulder to respond to Vi. Her tone is less critical and more like she's excited to brainstorm possible motivations.] We can't assume that.

[Caitlyn turns back to the contents of the box.] Yes. Um. There are herbs inside, they smell-- [She takes a whiff, wrinkling her nose.] --earthy. Musky. And faintly of fruit. And... [She smells again, and a horrified look crosses her face, as though she's just smelled the most odious smell imaginable. She quickly moves the box further away from herself, looking at it as though it's done her a great personal wrong.] Urine.

[Vi shouldn't look so amused at the posh description, but she does.

Caitlyn holds up a few of the whole dried leaves and flowers: foxglove, wisteria, passion flower, and valerian. There is a small sack visible inside the box containing more herbs ground up.]

Are there any herbalists in the group who might be able to identify these? What purpose could these serve, either individually or in combination?

[Vi leans in closer and says,] And by the way, I need to talk to the resident hextech genius.

[ooc: for the herbalists out there, this combination of herbs leads to memory loss]

incantates

[ Please enjoy the communication-enabling device magically hovering in the air and capturing Magnus as he wriggles something that looks awfully dragon-eye shaped at the screen. It's 30cm of pure what the fuck. ]

Oh, don't mind me showing up uninvited in the middle of dinner. I just felt I should make a follow-up report to all interested parties on our recent expedition to the Sibilant Sands –courtesy of one depressed dragon lord named Cain, a plucky group of fellow curious minds, and a beautiful Shadowhunter who had to pick through bones with me for hours. I had my skepticism about dropping in on a pair of advertised coordinates with little planning, but, you know, I'm an adventurer at heart.

[ Lucky for him and everyone else who joined, it worked out about as well as mysterious expeditions into creepy wastelands could work out. ]

So... curious thing about this eye! Apparently, the magic imbued within makes it easier for the owner to parse through whatever illusory enchantments have been running amuck in Serthica. How did I learn this? Well, I advise you look away now if you're faint of stomach.

[ Magnus keeps his grip on the eye with one hand and uses the other to magically produce a small visual replica of what he'd witnessed in the form of a floating, nearly transparent screen, reflecting exactly what Magnus saw when he positioned the eye on the dragons that were loaned to them by Cain, who were brimming with good health, versus Lethe, who was... well, definitely not alive. ]

...Not pretty, I know, but it could have some practical applications on how we move forward unraveling the great mysteries of this world.

[ At least, he hopes. ]

blackscales

I see we have plenty of new faces. Welcome to Serthica, if you're lucky the stay will be brief.

[ It's not exactly a fun and enjoyable time. Anyway: ]

I've been looking into our friend the White Wanderer. Those newest among us may recall him present during what they called the 'Unwinding', dressed in white while handling tea and a small child. Recently, he was mentioned by our guide the Merchant himself -- a comparison of his attire to the Ellethia uniform. I had confirmed the White Wanderer was here a few years ago, in the Mouse House, just after the 'coal sick' ended. Perhaps a few days after, implying he may have been around during the 'curing' of it in the city proper. With the recent confirmation of his Ellethia uniform, and Ma'am Mariol informing me she thinks he had a daughter he recently lost, he does indeed seem to be a former member of the Institute in Ellethia.

Given we found the familiar symbol of Ellethia (an eye with a sun) in the Remembrance headquarters I'd say this all ties together that our White Wanderer was involved in what is happening. Animating mannequins with dark water, as Remembrance seems to be doing, certainly fits the scientific intrigue of Ellethia -- although if this is misuse of whatever he began we cannot say yet.

What I'd like to know, from those here before me, is this: think back. We've evidence of this figure in Ke-Waihu. Was there any mention of them before? A white-clad figure, in Taravast? In any location the Merchant took you before? Have you seen the symbol of Ellethia, the eye with a sun, anywhere? These things might have not been noteworthy before, not part of a pattern, but I've begun to believe we're following a trail here.

For our new members: worth noting, Ellethia is where our guide the Merchant previously lived and worked, trading technical equipment and wards. It's of interest if our guide is following an old colleague, and taking us along. Ellethia's Institute was attempting to 'cure' the problem of mortality, the detail of which we are somewhat lacking. It seems to have involved mirrors, dark powers, and it did not end well -- that much we know. Given most places we arrive, things are going poorly, a recurring figure with ties there is of note.

Lastly: our raven master companion mentions Vassarizhia. I'm increasingly convinced the clock tower itself is related to everything happening here. The cities rotate at certain times, but large scale events also happen at them. The Unwinding, most recently, right as the clock struck six. We were told the beacon is in the clock tower and would light within months, when the clock is due its annual winding. Given it presumably just 'unwound', and caused all this, I'm hoping access to the clock will allow us answers to the parts of this puzzle we are missing -- as well as a route out.

groundrules

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