#Roen Deneith

[anchor-management]

C&F: Corruption Arc

Featuring: @sea-and-storm [Ghoa Mankhad], @shaelstormchild [Shael Stormchild], @anchor-management [Anchor Saltborn] and [Brick], @afreesworn [Nabi Kharlu] and [Roen Deneith], @sentryandco [Egil Nylor] and [Estrid Nylor] + ∞ NPCs, @tribblesfuriousart [Buoy Saltborn] [Diya-something-or-other], @banquoviaquo [Gideon North], [Orfeuille], [Luri Kai].

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The group's search for answers has taken them from The Far East, to the shores of Vylbrand. Their continued research into corrupted aether leads them to investigate a reclusive "Doctor Nylor", a name given by an ailing man--Abner Funk--that had a curious and yet similar sickness as Anchor during a visit to The Salt Strand.

Things quickly go wrong when the group splits to investigate the lead on two different fronts: Nabi and Ghoa devise a plan to infiltrate a theatre posing as entertainers, while Anchor and Shael travel to Upper La Noscea to follow a lead concerning the doctor's apparent employment of ailing individuals.

Separated and without contact due to a number of troubling circumstances, multiple plans fall into action over the course of the following days--with the help of some allies and friends in the midst--all eventually converging on Doctor Nylor's residence.

Of course, no amount of planning could prepare them for what surprises lay in wait...

- - - - -

- - - - -

Some closer-ups.

This pic took entirely too long to do. That is all.

Oh, just that and the fact I appreciate the people involved in this ongoing story of stories. It's been years actual years and that is pretty cool.

[afreesworn]

17: Novel

“So, Miss Deneith! You are back in Eorzea for good?” 

Reese Templeton always had a nervous energy about him. He was an excellent accountant – insofar as he seemed to have an eye for details and diligently informed her of business decisions that could not be made without her input. As far as Roen was concerned, he knew more about how her own wealth was managed than she did.

Being hands off was much more to her liking, the sizable estate that was left to her upon Nero’s passing never truly felt as if it belonged to her. With Mister Templeton as her accountant managing her investments in Ishgard and Ul’dah, Roen was free to travel to various corners of Eorzea, Othard, and most recently Sharlayan. 

But whenever Roen returned to Eorzea - much to the gratitude of her accountant - she always stopped by his office in Limsa Lominsa as a courtesy. He was never lacking for contracts and documents for her to sign, and never short of suggestions on dinner parties and lunches she should attend, to keep “relevant” amongst the wealthy and privileged that made up so-called “high society.” The latter was always refused, politely, and today would be no different.

“Not for good, but a bit longer this time, perhaps.” Roen nodded, hooking one arm on the oaken chair, reclining onto the quilted back. The tea he offered her remained untouched in front of her, on his desk. As usual, the man had stacks of papers and ledgers all around him, as if he was only happy juggling multiple things at once. “A few moons, I think.”

Reese raised both his eyebrows. “Oh! What is the occasion? Are you finally giving yourself some respite after traveling abroad for what… years now?” He was being facetious, of course; the man knew precisely how long she had been away for, probably down to the last bell.

“No special occasion,” Roen answered with a roll of her shoulders. “I just thought I should return home for a while. Perhaps even seek out a few friends that I have not spoken to in sometime.”

“Hm,” Reese hummed. Roen could see him wanting to pry her for more details, but somehow managed to restrain himself from doing so. They both had learned a little about each other over the years, and generally knew what to expect from one another. “Well! Your friends should be in for a pleasant surprise, yes? As far as you have been a client, I’ve not known you to take such time for yourself.” 

There was a deeper bow of her head, in acknowledging that simple fact. Indeed, she had not kept in touch with many - if not all - of the people she cared for. There were letters sent, of course, albeit infrequently, and while some have diligently written back, others…she had not heard from still.

It took her many years to finally mend old wounds, and in doing so, she had put some distance between herself and those that were dear to her. 

Perhaps it was time to close those rifts as well.

Reese regarded her thoughtful silence curiously, before adjusting the set of his glasses. “So then, should I expect you in La Noscea for a bit?” From his tone, he was eager to make some appointments on her behalf.

“I will be heading up to Ishgard first, to try and find someone,” It was a deft way to avoid yet again declining invitation to social events. “I’ll send word when I am back in La Noscea.” Her expression softened. “I would like to visit the orphanages, both here and Ul’dah.”

What looked like initial disappointment turned into a look of surprised anticipation. “Wonderful!” he chirped. “I will send word to the Albatross Orphanage. I am sure the head mistress would be happy to hear.” He tapped some parchments together on the desk, setting them neatly in front of him then clasped his hands together. “Then perhaps we can speak again about adding a few more stops to your itinerary?”

His persistence was at least admirable. Roen held up a hand but offered a small smile. “One thing at a time, Mister Templeton. Let me at least begin the process of finding my friend, then we will see what comes after that.”

If there was one thing she had learned from her years of traveling, it was to never plan too far in advance. New and unexpected things always had a way of ruining the most carefully laid plans - hers especially.

[vanitysruin]

"My turn!" :D

Delial Grimsong and Roen Deneith have joined your party!

Starting Dungeon: Delial takes a moment to /furrow at Roen, but then proceeds to /bstance as per usual. "Back into the fray, are we? Good, good. Let us see what you can do."

Assisting: “We've not the time for this!” (or) “Honestly. Whatever would you do without me?”

Being Assisted: “Hm! It is nice to be helped, for once.”

Idle Dialogue: “It.. it is good to see you, dearest. You look well.” (or) “So. Is there anything I need to know? Seeing anybody lately? You can tell me. They shall be safe. ... For now.”

Witnessing Roen KO: “Fool girl, that shield won't save you from everything!”

Reviving Roen: “Focus, sweetling. I shall not lose you as well.”

Finishing Dungeon: After a celebratory /vpose, Delial lingers near Roen looking a little too proud for her own good. Maybe a little winded, too, if she's been a little too zealous in her application of fire. "Usually I work better alone, but... This was... fun, was it not? Let us do this again soon. You know I shall always be at the ready, for you."

Delial is ever the epitome of the selfish DPS, but in Roen's presence she at least makes an appearance of making an attempt. Clemency and Cover tossed Delial's way are well and good, and she shows her appreciation with /smirks and /chuckles. If there is some mechanic she can assist with that is targeting Roen specifically, she will make the attempt to assist in it, perhaps with some reluctance unless she has Triplecast/Swiftcast ready. She might even remember to use Manaward if it means saving Roen (and not the healer) from one more distraction. It's all in the little things, of course, to show someone you care.

[cfs-melkire]

☁ For Roen! :D

“…Deneith, aye? Hidden depths there, ‘n’ most of 'em ain’t my business. Ever been adrift? Lost at sea? Ever had a galleon pass you by in the middle of the night? It’s huge. It’s silent. In a manner o’ speakin… it’s terrifyin’. Half-dozen fulms in the wrong direction, 'n’ you’d have met your end. As things stand, though, she doesn’t have anythin’ t'do with you. Oh, sure, the crew might haul you aboard. Offer you safe passage or cast y'down in irons. You might sail with that ship… but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that she’s goin’ places. You’re just along for the ride, 'n’ for only so long.”

[jancisstuff]

Looking Back - Finding Crofte

May 2016

[socrofty]

Roen Deneith

[gegenji]

[FFXIV Class Knowledge: Chachanji Gegenji]

D I S C I P L E S   O F   W A R

Chachanji’s physical combat prowess relies mostly on what he was taught and observed from others. This places his Paladin sword-and-board (or perhaps hammer-and-board) abilities at his best, as he was taught by such individuals as Ser Warren Castille, Ser Roen Deneith (@afreesworn), and Ser Coatleque Crofte. It is also the style he has experienced the most battle with, edging him out of the Novice category. His unarmed combat skills mostly come from a scroll bequeathed to him temporarily by Berrod Armstrong (@berrodtherapscallion), and observing his friend Virara Wakuwa (@onehundredplumblossoms) in combat. His current training involves learning the katana from fellow Othardian Reika Yuzuka in exchange for learning how to adapt to Eorzean life.

PALADIN: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master WARRIOR: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master DARK KNIGHT: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master PUGILIST: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master LANCER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master ROGUE: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master SAMURAI: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master ARCHER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master MACHINIST: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master

D I S C I P L E S   O F   M A G I C

Chachanji’s arcane ability is practically nonexistent. His aetheric well is too small to really allow for any powerful magicks without delving into ancient methods like the Black, and he has no desire to delve into such forbidden techniques. The only spell he has is a very simple Physick - taught to him by his brother - and is only useful for mending little bumps and scrapes. More a bandage on an injury than any sort of actual healing. Though, if he has access to an excess amount of aether, he can channel it into this spell and improve its healing potency accordingly.

CONJURER: Unskilled |  Novice | Adept | Expert | Master ARCANIST: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master ASTROLOGIAN: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master THAUMATURGE: Unskilled |  Novice | Adept | Expert | Master RED MAGE:  Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master D I S C I P L E S   O F   T H E   H A N D

Smithing is where Chachanji shines - born into an illustrious smithing family and having the family secrets and techniques drilled into him from a tender age, the Lalafell has only improved as he’s gained more knowledge and experience in Eorzea. His focus on armor results in equipment of incredible quality, but he also is able to develop very powerful and deadly weaponry... though he is loathe to add another potential tool of destruction into the world unless it’s the hands of someone he absolutely trusts. He is also somewhat decent in related fields - carpentry for the creation of bows, weaving for the sewing of cloth and similar components, and a bit of goldsmith work - but less experienced with any skill-sets for those professions outside those akin to his main. He can also cook a little, but it is nothing to brag about - merely enough to make basic staples.

CARPENTER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master BLACKSMITH: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master ARMORER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master GOLDSMITH: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master LEATHERWORKER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master WEAVER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master ALCHEMIST: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master CULINARIAN: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master D I S C I P L E S   O F   T H E   L A N D

As the head of a Smelting Guild that has ownership of various mines here and there, Chachanji has picked up a fair bit on the Mining profession. Not to mention that his expertise in smithing requires him to be skilled in the identification and rating of various ores and other materials that could be used in his line of work.

MINER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master BOTANIST: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master FISHER: Unskilled | Novice | Adept | Expert | Master

Tagged by: @floating-city-of-nem​ Tagging: Whoever hasn’t yet who would like to!

[futake]

Commission: Roen Deneith by raikoart

[dubiousduskwight]

[Ask time! What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?]

Verad doesn’t really have a central social group because of his tendency to flit around the Quicksand and make new contacts. He has a small cadre of close friends from that enterprise, as well as people he met during his time at the Harbingers of Dawn and when working with Roen Deneith some years ago. He makes new acquaintances pretty quickly, but most of them are superficial contacts who don’t speak to him more than a few times.He occasionally goes to FC tavern nights, particularly at the Bandee Pakshee because he was an early backer there, but he usually keeps to himself in these events because his primary mode of interaction is selling trash as treasure, and they don’t always appreciate that in private estates.

I’m not sure how to answer the other questions. He prefers to think of himself as a raconteur and jack-of-all-trades because it fits his image as a peddler, but because of my tendency to run lengthy dice storylines, the role he usually plays is to be a hook: a means of dragging players into a storyline until they are sufficiently invested that I can remove him and focus entirely on DMing. For example, in Verad Bellveil vs. The World, he appeared as a suitor to Faetrix Severidenne to draw other characters into Ishgard. All of them were inclined to help Verad win his true love until they both realized he had no chance and that there was something darker going on with the family. So his initial role was “protagonist,” and he saw himself as such. The role he typically plays instead is as a supporting character and sometimes useful contact.

[witchyxxjazzy]

--- shoutout by natasha-maree13 ❤ liked on Polyvore

#claryfraygifs / Roen Deneith, Sean Tay / (11) Pinterest

[afreesworn]

6: Onerous

Anchor Saltborn certainly had a talent for being antagonistic.

But, as Roen reminded the abrasive hyur more than once – and herself on a few occasions – she wasn’t here for him. He couldn’t send her away no matter how many times he repeated the same sentiment. She was doing this as a favor for Shael. Her promise was to make certain that Anchor didn’t die from his aether sickness, which meant that all she had to do was to make sure he continued to draw breath until Shael relieved her of her charge. But that would be the very minimum that was required of her. And Roen simply couldn’t leave it at that.

Then there was this matter of another person in trouble. Roen hadn’t intended on listening in on his conversation – she was loath to pry into other people’s personal business – but she couldn’t help but note the man’s quick turn around in behavior when it came to this unnamed woman. And the anxiety upon his features was unmistakable when he spoke to Shael about her, and even more so as he waited for an answer with a different pearl in hand. As far as Roen could tell, no one answered on the other side.

Was there someone else in trouble, driving this man forward, despite the fact that the physical pain that wracked his body was clearly written on his face? His ragged breath and pasty skin made it all the more plain that he was still very ill. Why would Shael entrust one with such unfavorable disposition to a total stranger he didn’t know? Her friend must have had little choice in the matter. Was it so that Shael could also go and search for this woman as well?

It did not escape Roen’s notice that Shael did not share any details on why she had to leave in such a hurry. Which meant her friend did not want the paladin embroiled in this particular matter. And knowing the smuggler, there were probably illegal activities involved. Roen had already discovered the Wanted poster bearing Saltborn’s likeness in Moraby, although with a little bit of digging, she also discovered that there were no deaths or robbery involved. It was a matter of trespassing and assault.

Which raised plenty more questions that had yet to be answered, but Roen was certain her charge would not be providing any explanations. He was all too eager to get rid of her by way of vocalizing excessive contempt, not wanting one onze of Roen’s involvement in whatever he was about to do. 

And had he just been an obnoxiously hostile fellow, Roen would have been tempted to let him be. Just follow him at a distance to keep her promise, to make sure he didn’t collapse in some ditch, and then when the fatigue eventually caught up to him, carry him back to whatever shelter and await Shael’s return.

But instead, here she was, driving a wagon with Naldiq & Vymelli's brand on them, thanks to her own connections. She thought to thank Reese, her accountant, in passing next time they spoke, only to decide against it since the misery hyur would definitely not approve of using their business contacts to assist in aiding and abetting a wanted man.

A small huff escaped Roen’s lips, one corner tugged upwards with vague amusement. There was a time where she too was a wanted woman. She supposed everything came around in a circle eventually.

She glanced over her shoulder, spying from the corner of her eye, Anchor barely staying conscious. He was fully tilted to one side, his head resting against the edge of his seat. He looked drawn as ever, his eyes squinted with pain. His gaze didn’t seem focused, but still very much troubled, wherever his thoughts went.

Roen sighed. She would keep her promise to Shael, and keep this man from joining the lifestream. And maybe she would even eventually convince him to rest, once they found what he was looking for.

[vanitysruin]

The guests arrive...

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

(( ft. @afreesworn, @cfs-melkire, @kanaria-galanodel, @everyoneneedsmorefranz, @exkage, @whispersofawindwitch, @knight-kat, @banquoviaquo, @arcarith ))

[cfs-melkire]

The Ground Upon Which You Stand, pt. 3

Many Moons Past

"You must go East. To Othard, and to the Azim Steppe."

"...you're not makin' a lick o' ruttin' sense. That's… that's thousands of malms. Everyone I care for is here… 'n' you're wantin' me t'leave? Cross the Sea o' Jade? Why? Why should I? Why would I?"

"You want to be remembered. This is what you told me. It is a good answer, but it is a difficult quest. This task and this journey will be easier, I think, once you know who you are and where you come from."

He crested the last hill and looked down. He stood there a long while as he gazed at the sight before him. At last, he'd arrived. The long voyage was near to its end, and he was glad about that. Half the difficulty might have been convincing his wife that the trip would be worth the journey, and the other half might have been keeping their children entertained as they crossed the Sea of Jade by merchant galleon, but -- despite the ease of all which had followed -- the worst of it had somehow been this last stretch. On his own, a stranger in a strange land, asking questions of the locals and trekking across their homeland.

"Piss on that, I know who I am. I'm Osric Melkire, 'n' I'm Lominsan--"

"Yes, yes, you are Osric son of Edith. But you are also Osric son of Cenric, and of your father you know very little."

He looked back, over his shoulder, as he rolled up the map he'd been given. He could not see Reunion from here, but even at this great distance the towering sight of the Dawn Throne was as unmistakable as the skies were clear. To think that he had leapt across the wide chasm known as the Wound… his younger self would have laughed in derision and scorn at the prospect.

“I have made some markings on it, I think it will be rather obvious when you get to those points. Steep climbs and some shortcuts that were discovered. Do keep a careful eye out at all times, and even to the skies. Some Xaela travel by large birds called Yols. Quite big, they are hard to miss.”

Roen Deneith's advice and counsel had served him well. He'd been accosted by mounted Oronir not long after leaving Reunion behind him, and they'd been flabbergasted to hear that he was heading east, along the Path of the Craven, in pursuit of one particular cluster of Xaela. When their shock had faded, they had jeered and seen fit to test him. It had not been a fair fight. 

He turned back now and looked upon the small collection of tents before him. He ought to have been nervous, was one thought that crossed his mind. His father had never been forthcoming about his personal history, and here now was the son come to dig up the secrets of a man long since forgiven. What ought to have been some measure of trepidation, though, was instead some measure of relief. At last, he would learn a great deal. Where had his father hailed from, if not Thanalan? What did his father's past have to do with his own future? Why was Horace Windwhistle so invested in this? The answers to these questions awaited him down below, and so he spent no more time waiting: he hefted his pack to readjust the weight slung over his shoulder, and walked down the slope towards the Iloh.

"He--"

"--was not always Cenric of Thanalan. No, he was not. Unless you think he sprang forth from the dirt a full-grown man, eh? If you wish to know, then you must go East to learn how the man made his fortune and his family."

He was stopped short by a warrior on patrol. Introducing himself as Osric Melkire of Limsa Lominsa elicited only a raised eyebrow. The name "Cenric of Thanalan," however, seemed almost to shock the young warrior. He was told that "Mother has waited a long time for this news," and he was asked to wait while word was sent on ahead. "The khan will wish to speak with you" was the only explanation he was given for the delay. One bell later, word came back, and he was led into the centermost tent. It was not an ostentatious one, but it was the largest and the most fierce-looking.

Its occupant matched it in these qualities.

The khan was seated not upon a throne or a lesser chair, but upon a large woolen throw which covered the dirt. Seated before the khan was a low wooden table. With a gesture, he invited his guest to be seated across from him, and Osric obliged his host.

"You look like him," were the first words spoken… in Eorzean Common, no less, the man's speech halting at times but never broken. "But you come to us later in the spans of your life than he did. Still, the resemblance is there. It is in the jaw, and in your colors, though not that of the eyes, which I would suppose were your mother's before they were yours."

"Please," Osric said, finding his voice after a stunned silence. "I know so little about him. They say he named me for your people. If it ain't too much t'ask… I'd like t'learn more. About him… and about you."

The khan grinned as the other flap of the tent opened behind him and a woman stepped through. She was austere in her bearing, and regal to behold. She looked of an age with the khan, and he did not seem surprised by her entrance. He held up a hand in a gesture of introduction.

"This is Gerel, and I would tell you that she is my woman, but the truth is that she is her own. She will be khatun, should I ever fall, and we two together, Khudus Khan and Gerel Khatun, knew your sire, Cenric of Thanalan, very well. He bested me when we were young men, and though we started as rivals we became friends."

She bowed to the midlander, and then turned to fetch something or other from what looked to be a cabinet or armoire of some sort. From within, she removed a circular game board, and this she set upon the table between the two men. Next came the pieces, Xaela warriors all, which she arranged along the edge of the board.

"I am told you are Melkire," Khudus said. "This name was, by right, your father's to bestow. But now that you are here, it must be earned. Kharaqiq is not sacred, but it is close." He leaned forward, hands on his knees, a wolf-grin baring his teeth. "Are you man or beast, Osric of Limsa Lominsa? Challenge me. Prove your worth, and you shall have your lessons."

"To the Steppe…?"

"To the Malqir, for which you are named."

[shinjyu]

FFXIV group shot commission  for Roen Deneith! Thank you so much! ♥

[ L-R : Anchor / Nabi / Tserende / Shael / Ghoa ]

[afreesworn]

22: Veracity

The chocobo let out only a small huff of protest as Roen nudged him forward, having been woken from sleep to bring both her and Anchor back to the tavern where they had started the afternoon. 

It had been an eventful sun to say the least. In the bells that Roen had come to know Anchor Saltborn, an ailing man that was left to her charge by Shael Stormchild, Roen had come to discover rumors about an eccentric nobleman named Doctor Nylor, who was possibly poisoning people with corrupted aether and conducting unscrupulous studies right in the heart of Mist.

What was most surprising was that one of her oldest friends and sometimes confidant, Gideon North, had also been recruited by Shael to help a small number of her friends meet this Doctor. Never in the passing years that Roen had been corresponding with Gideon could she imagine their reunion would come about in this fashion.

But that anticipated meeting would have to wait, since by the time Roen was at the Nylor estate, it was well after midnight. She was promised a visit with Mister North in the morn, which seemed to have partly appeased the otherwise disagreeable Anchor Saltborn.

Roen knew better than to believe that he became suddenly amenable from her inquiries alone, she suspected that Shael and Brick had something to do with the hyur agreeing to return to the tavern rather than marching into the Doctor’s estate. By his words, Shael and Brick have “got things handled” when it came to his xaela acquaintances.

And yet, something still felt off. Whatever was said to Anchor, it still didn’t satisfy him completely; the consternation upon his visage never eased. He only barely resigned himself to rest for the night. Then there was the miqo’te who seemed too sprightly for a stroll – in a dress, no less – in the middle of the night within the Nylor grounds. That in itself would have garnered a liking from the paladin, but Diya – as the miqo’te introduced herself – then proceeded to provide the details regarding the xaelas in question. Only, Roen had specifically and carefully asked about Gideon North only.

But all these details on their own didn’t warrant much more than a passing curiosity. So, why was there a nagging dissatisfaction in the back of Roen’s mind? Was it the number of guards she saw around the estate? Or the fact that something bothered Shael enough, that these details were deliberately not shared with her? Did they tell Anchor what he needed to hear to simply keep him out of trouble? The man wasn’t well enough to involve himself in any conflict as he was. Even Roen could see that clearly.

She gave the estate a look as the wagon slowly rolled past. The wealth of the place was obvious even from this distance. An expansive mansion surrounded by an immaculately maintained garden, and even with a private theater built onto its west wing. A few lights flickered from the windows of the residence, but the frame of the large home was darkly set against the white bluffs of Mist. Could something nefarious be afoot within?

Roen would have her answers in the morn. It would not be the reunion she was hoping for, but find Gideon North she must. She trusted that he, of all people, will not mince words in telling her the truth of the matter.

[afreesworn]

Friends and Debts

Anchor Saltborn.

Sour disposition. Loyal to Ironsong. Suffering from aether sickness. Possibly prone to attacking strangers upon regaining consciousness. Perhaps even involved in illegal affairs.

The last bit was pure speculation on Roen’s part but both Shael and Brick avoided answering the question of how and where their friend contracted his current ailment. Roen knew next to nothing about Brick – other than he seemed formidable, careful, and was most frugal in his speech – but the fact that Shael was tight lipped about so many things surrounding this man and her next urgent matter, likely meant that they were all involved in something Roen would not approve of.

But that never stopped Shael from getting her involved before, even peripherally. And given their past together, and for all that Roen owed the smuggler, she couldn’t say no.

Aylard’s death would forever be a deep wound in her soul, one that Roen could never willingly mend. The pang of guilt was well deserved, and for that, Roen would forever feel indebted to Shael. She honestly didn’t know how that could be rectified.

Which brought her attention back to the man laying on the bed in front of her, clearly in pain though not wholly conscious. His countenance had yet to relax from its tight grimace, and often he let out a moan of pain. Roen had given him his tinctures and every few bells, sat him up, tried to get some fluids down without him choking, so his body didn’t become completely depleted. She wiped him off with a wet cloth now and then to cool his fever, but the heat beneath his skin would not relent.

"He's sick so ya don' need much doin'. Just make sure he don' move on tae the great stream, yeah?"

Roen had not seen Shael in over two years. And for the past year, she had been writing letters and leaving missives for the highlander at her usual haunts. But there had been no answers. Then suddenly, the smuggler shows up out of nowhere and asks her to nurse her ailing friend. 

"He's not the most friendly o' folk, and when he wakes up, ya may want tae be armed."

It wasn’t a surprise that an acquaintance of Shael would show aggressive proclivities, but the male didn’t look like he hailed from Gyr Abania. And if the Higan letters she spied on Brick’s notes were any indication, both the xaela and the hyur had spent some time in the Far East. 

So was it true then that Shael too had spent some time there in the past few years? Roen had heard rumors of a red haired woman sporting a magitek gun in Kugane, but mentions of such foreigners were commonplace in the port city. And Roen was first to admit, at the time, she herself was too busy with personal affairs of her own to be on the lookout for an old friend.

But now that she was back in Eorzea and gave herself a reprieve from her travels to attend to some mundane business – much to the delight of her accountant – her thoughts had strayed more than once to her past acquaintances. And once the news of her partner Shooey’s death reached Roen’s ears, she had reached out to Shael in all the ways she could conceive of, only to be met with silence.

For as long as Roen had known Shael, the highlander had Shooey by her side. And the fact that she had disappeared from the face of Eorzea right after his passing, it worried Roen. Her resurfacing brought much relief, but now also many questions.

Just who are you? Roen asked silently, looking at the ill hyur next to her. The fact that Shael finally made herself known, just to ask for help in taking care of this man, meant something. It did not escape Roen’s notice that Shael looked relaxed around Brick, and very much intent on keeping Anchor alive. Roen could see the two had a significant place in her friend’s new life.

A small smile found its way to Roen’s lips. She was glad. She knew all too well how losing someone so important could tear a part of their heart out, and how difficult it was to move forward after. To find the next reason to keep going. 

Glancing at the groaning man next to her, it looked like Shael had done just that. Roen exhaled and stood, walking to the head of the bed to lift him up for his next helping of water. 

She had cost Shael someone very dear to her before, and she could never repeat that mistake again. So if it was left to her to feed this stranger water, wipe him down, and clean up his bile until he woke, then so be it.