#mankhad

[ver-caster]

Dragons of the Deep Shenanigans

Audio from: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DEvuMmjhGhR/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

[paintedscales]

013. Mankhad

The first migration that Nomin has seen during her time with the Sagahl leads her to the Bay of Yanxia. What was a fun outing with the other Sagahli children turns into something of a scare as a creature bursts from the waters and threatens hers and the other childrens' lives.

Word Count: 2,974

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

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The time of migration had come and passed, and Nomin had the chance to go out of her way to meet some more of the Sagahli children. All the tribespeople were accounted for, and so the migration was cleared to go on ahead. Nomin had met five other children that were around her age, give or take -- three boys and two girls. There were a couple babes in the tribe as well, though Nomin only watched as they were swaddled and carried upon the backs of their parents.

For the most part, the other children had been nice to Nomin, one of them even thinking that her blue colouration of scales was cool because it meant that she was just like Bayarmaa. Of course, this made Nomin swell with a sense of pride -- for she also thought Bayarmaa sweet and amazing in her various ways of knowledge and how she carried herself more times than not.

Of the children, there was Jajiradai -- a boy of fourteen summers, and his height was telling. He towered over most of the other children, though he did not come close to standing at the same height, yet, as someone like Esenaij. He had a younger brother who had not entered into his growth spurt -- Odchigen, a boy who was as many summers as Nomin, and seemed to hold his brother in high regard.

Then there was Chotan, a girl of twelve summers. She liked flowers, and often wore those that she had preserved herself in her hair, or on her person. Apparently her parents had taught her how to preserve flowers that they may be worn, and even traded to those who were interested in Xaelic crafts when trading in Reunion.

Checheyigen -- who requested that others simply call her ‘Che’ -- happened to have been another girl of ten summers. She was often quiet, though liked collecting rocks in addition to whatever it was that her family had gone out to collect. Nomin had been impressed by the amount of rocks that she had within her collection -- more so by the crystals and precious stones that she had found.

Lastly, there was the youngest who was not still a babe; a boy by the name of Khulan. He had seen only seven summers. Like Nomin, he had been learning how to write and read, though his inquisitive nature seemed on par with hers. The two of them often seemed to ask Bayarmaa, Esenaij, or other Sagahli members about stuff they wanted to know more about, often getting shooed away to bother someone else.

In the migration, Nomin had gotten to know these children relatively well, and enjoyed her time with them -- happy enough to even call them friends with how she was able to speak and interact with them, as well as mutually share different tidbits of each other, and share other things like food. After all, the migration had actually been relatively lengthy. Several days had passed before the Sagahl had finally settled on a grassy plain that bordered a beach belonging to what many referred to as the Bay of Yanxia.

Only when Nomin was a little more aware of her surroundings did she stare at the land in confusion. She approached Bayarmaa and asked her, “why does the Sagahl set their iloh here? I cannot make out too many fruits or vegetables that we might harvest right away.”

“We are here for a different plant, that we might dry it and use it for teas and medicines. When it grows, it does so in poor soil ,” Bayarmaa started in response. “This plant we’re looking for is called ‘silvery wormwood’, it is named as such for the milky, almost silver-like sap it produces. We dry this for use in medicines and teas, which is prized and valued among our coastal allies -- the Mankhad and the Haragin.”

“The Sagahl have many allies…” Nomin observed, thinking about how often the Sagahl were able to trade and meet with other tribes without hostilities.

“It benefits the other tribes that we are allowed to roam the steppe free of conflict. This is not to say that we could not fight if it came down to it… though I imagine Esenaij has already demonstrated as such when you went to the Dotharl Khaa with him. Likewise, it also does not mean we are not without enemies,” Bayarmaa said, bringing a finger to her chin. “Back to the topic, many other tribes rely on us Sagahl, as we are and always have been the masters of the bounties that grow from this land. If it were not for us, many tribes would go without food or medicine. This is where our knowledge and teachings benefit us the most, and it benefits the other tribes to leave us be as a result.”

“Who are our enemies?”

Bayarmaa’s mouth soon set into a frown. Placing her hands on her hips, she sighed, not exactly wanting to recall previous conflicts, though it was good for the girl to know. Thinking for a moment on the tribes who fit the description of ‘enemy’, Bayarmaa eventually replied with, “the Adarkim, Chaghan, Jhungid, and the Kharlu come to mind. The Three Giants have often tried to catch us unawares so that they might absorb our tribespeople into their numbers to make use of our skills and knowledge. As for the Chaghan… well… they are the ones who were exiled by the Qerel as Taken -- those who succumb to their Will of Karash. This makes them incredibly violent all in Nhaama’s name. Blasphemous, if you ask me.”

Using her fingers, Nomin counted the four tribes and looked back up at Bayarmaa. Still holding her fingers in their counted form, she said, “at least it’s a small list.”

“There are still those who may yet change their stance in how they see us. May we only see that our alliances hold strong,” Bayarmaa spoke, walking to one side of the ger and pulling out some twine from a sack. “Now… let’s go ahead and start getting some of the herbs we collected on our way here set for drying.”

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A moon had passed and Nomin had learned from Bayarmaa how to write her characters with ease, and was able to read more than a few select words and sentence structures. She was quite proud of herself and her accomplishments in that endeavor. Now, Nomin’s questions were more on what certain words meant and how to apply them in writing, or even in spoken word.

Bushels of silvery wormwood had been collected by various members of the tribe, as well as other plants that grew in the area. ‘Day grain’ was what the Sagahl called the yellow, round grains that they collected and often boiled for meals in the time while they were there. It was interesting, but not so different from rice. At least it was something to go with the cooked up vilekin that the Sagahl also hunted -- being so close to the coastline gave them plenty of opportunities to hunt for buzzflies.

With many of the chores and work done, there had been little for the Sagahl to do other than wait. Seeds had been planted for the next year, herbs and goods had been collected and separated into bags for trade and to keep…. All that was left to do was wait for the opportunity to trade with a couple of other tribes that would find themselves somewhere close by. It could have been the Mankhad, or it could have been Haragin… only time would tell.

Nomin and the other children had gone to the beachside to have some fun while under the watchful eye of Jajiradai, who had taken his bow and arrows with him in case anything were to happen. Though his younger brother, Odchigen, stood mimicking his brother and watching over the beach at first, he eventually relented and went to play in the ocean waters with the rest of the kids.

A little later in the day, and Chotan had grown rather bored of the waters and sands, meandering close enough by, though having been taken with some of the local flora that started to bloom now that spring was upon them. Of course, curious Nomin had chased after her to see the flowers for herself. They were a beautiful purple with some yellow striping stemming out from their pistils outward.

“These are really pretty! Do you know what they are, Chotan?” Nomin asked, starting to reach out for the flower, but stopping remembering Bayarmaa’s words that she should not touch flowers unless she intended to harvest them.

“These… these are baras iris,” Chotan replied, her voice soft and airy, as if she had just woken up. Nomin had grown used to the slow way that Chotan spoke, and exhibited her patience with a smile. After all, Chotan had shown Nomin so many pretty flowers of the steppe, and had even given her a few of the preserved ones she had so that Nomin could practice drawing them.

“I think… I’ll be taking these ones,” Chotan said, plucking two of the irises from their spots. “Yes… these ones will be perfect… for hairpins.”

“Do you think it’d look good on me?” Nomin asked, wondering if she could get a flower hairpin.

Chotan turned her attention toward Nomin, and she looked her up and down. She thought about it, reaching out and touching Nomin’s hair, holding a lock of it between her fingers. Chotan gave a gentle ‘hmm’ before letting go of the sky blue tress.

“... Yellow…” Chotan spoke.

“Huh?” Nomin gave a quizzical look.

“... Your hair… yellow flowers would really stand out,” Chotan elaborated.

“You think so? I thought white or red might look goo--” Nomin was cut off by Che and Khulan’s panicked shouts and yells from the water.

Odchigen could be heard calling for his brother, hurriedly announcing that a flying shark had surfaced and was coming right for them. Though, it seemed Jajiradai needed no attention called to the shark that was gliding through the air across the water. He had already taken up his bow and loosed a couple arrows toward the creature, both arrows hitting their mark, but not slowing down the wavekin at all.

“Back onto the sands! Quickly! Run toward the iloh!” Jajiradai urged, watching the kids run back. Nomin and Chotan could only comply, clumsily getting back up onto their feet as they ran over the sands.

Chotan only ran so far before she had tripped over her own feet; she had been trying to keep the baras irises safe as she fled, though to no avail. Nomin lingered back after her friend fell, running to her and helping her to her feet. She reached out for one of the irises that had fallen onto the sand that still looked alright, though the sound of Jajiradai yelling at them stopped her.

“Keep running to the iloh!”

The shout seemed too late. Even as Jajiradai loosed another arrow into the flying shark, it was fast approaching the two girls. Nomin had done her best to shield Chotan with her own body as the other girl quickly tried reorienting herself. Unbeknownst to the former Tumet, Chotan had dropped the flowers completely, ready to flee without distraction.

Just as the shark opened its maw to attack, it stiffened, falling from its hovering state and crashing into the sand. It rolled around a bit due to its momentum, stiff but still operating its gills. Jajiradai took this opportunity to run to the girls and scoop them up into his arms to bring them back to safety. However, his own curiosity set in when he put the girls down; walking back toward the wavekin, he sighed, noting his arrows being broken and unsalvageable. Though Jajiradai also noted something else of interest: a white, sharpened bone sticking out of the shark’s flesh.

Reaching out to it, a sharp whistle caught his and everyone else’s attention, halting Jajiradai in the process. Looking toward the sound, they saw a young man, perhaps only a little older than Jajiradai, waving to them from a top one of the sand dunes of the beach. Once he had their attention, he started jogging toward them.

“Don’t touch that dart!” the boy called out before anything else. “It is laced with potent dagina fish poison. If you touch it, you may become paralyzed.”

Jajiradai lowered his hand from attempting to observe the bone dart further and put his bow away on his person. He stayed silent for the time being, perhaps a little upset that someone else had stolen the honor of protecting the Sagahli children from him. However, he spoke no ill, and simply bowed courteously to the new boy.

“None of you are hurt, are you?” the boy asked, concern apparent on his face. “My tribespeople traveled this way for migration. I was visiting the beach to see if I might find some shells for my mother to craft with.”

Nomin was busy making sure Chotan was okay, helping her brush off sand from her clothes and body. It seemed both of them were a little sad that the baras irises had been ruined in the sudden scare of the flying shark surfacing and coming to attack. However, with the shark pacified, Chotan sighed and walked to the area where the rest of the irises were, looking over them to see if she could find two new flowers that were good for her crafts.

Leaving her to it, Nomin had approached Jajiradai and the other boy, curious as to who this new boy was. It seemed the other two children had also returned -- or perhaps did not run terribly far to where they could see and hear that the situation had been handled. Though Che had been wary of the shark that was still there, Odchigen happily approached, praising his elder brother and his abilities.

“Jajiradai! I knew you could take down that shark!” Odchigen cheered.

“Oh��� it was… it was this new boy…” Nomin said, pointing at him. “He defeated the shark.”

“... It was, “Jajiradai affirmed, watching Odchigen glance between everyone as he gawked in disbelief.

“Hey, what’s your name?” Nomin finally asked the boy, as it seemed no one else was asking what felt like an obvious question to ask in general.

“Baihingor, and I come from the Mankhad tribe,” the boy introduced. He then pointed to the shark and then held out a bone blowgun. “In my search for shells, I often come here to practice hitting cloudkin or wavekin that come too close. It is a form of hunting for us as well so that we might have food.”

“But how do you eat them if you poison them?” Checheyigen asked, her soft voice startling Nomin and Odchigen momentarily.

Baihingor chuckled softly and replied, “that is a very good concern…. My people often take the creatures back while they are paralyzed and allow them to get better. The shark is still alive, see? But the poison will wear off in several bells. When it does, we keep and care for the creature for a fortnight to help ensure the poison has run its course before we slaughter them for food.”

Walking toward the downed shark, Baihingor took some gloves from his person and slipped them on before grasping the dart and pulling it from the shark. Turning it around between his fingers, he then put it away in a specially decorated pouch before removing his gloves with a smile. He patted the wavekin rather gently before looking at the others around him.

“Come, we can remove the arrows and return the creature to sea. Like this, it will not benefit anyone save for its skin and bones… but to make no use of its meat because the dagina poison has not run its course is a waste,” Baihingor said, leaning down and pulling out one of the arrows that had broken though was still lodged into the beast.

Jajiradai told the other children to stand back while he and Baihingor took care of removing the rest of the arrows. Once removed, the two worked together to start bringing the shark back to the water. It was a task that proved a little difficult, though eventually both of the older boys had been able to at least get the flying shark back to deep enough water that they could make sure they could leave it without worrying about it dying on the beach and attracting other unwanted attention.

“So…” Baihingor started when everyone started back inland. “I suppose I wouldn’t be far from the truth if I were to assume you were all from the Sagahl tribe? My people are expecting to cross paths with you soon if that’s the case.”

“Yeah!” Odchigen eagerly replied. “We got a lot of our harvests in, and they’re ready to trade to your people!”

“That’s a relief to hear,” Baihingor sighed, bringing a hand to his chest in relief. “My sister relies on the medicine and tea that our people get from your tribe.”

Nomin looked at Baihingor in surprise. It was just as Bayarmaa told her; this boy who had saved them from the flying shark needed the medicine the Sagahl made or at least collected components for so that they might live as healthily as possible as well.

“Well…” Baihingor stopped walking with the group of Sagahl and smiled at them. When the others stopped and looked at him, he continued speaking, “I’ll be heading back to the beach to look for more shells. My people will be happy to know that you are not that far away. May we meet again soon, and travel in safety back to your people! I won’t always be around to save your scales from other flying sharks!”

[paintedscales]

Peers of the Steppe ->

Arik of Dotharl (Noykin) -> Childhood friend, temporary fling, platonic

Chotan of Sagahl -> Childhood friend, platonic

Checheyigen of Sagahl -> Childhood friend, platonic

Jajiradai of Sagahl -> Childhood friend, platonic

Odchigen of Sagahl -> Childhood friend, platonic

Khulan of Sagahl -> Childhood friend, platonic

Holuikhan of Dataq -> Childhood friend, estranged; bonded over their scales being different

Yul of Oroq -> Unfriendly, distant

Baihingor of Mankhad -> Childhood rescuer, admired

Jamugha of Jhungid (Shonkhor) -> Delegated sparring partner, sort of friends, they were at least friendly

Narantuyaa of Mol -> Gods bade her assist Nomin, became close friends after traveling together, platonic

Samga of Borlaaq -> One-sided rivalry (Nomin's side); jealous of initially. Left the Borlaaq iloh with an admiration for Samga as well as viewing her as an equal.

Jebei of Gesi -> Ambivalent toward; is admired by because of her act of rebellion against the Jhungid when they meet

Honestly, this list will likely be retroactively worked on just because I haven't written everything yet for the Chronicles.

Scions

Alphinaud -> Has maternal instinct over; believed him to not make the best decisions at one point because of her paranoia, though also recognized that he is a very smart teen. Has seen him grow the most out of all the other Scions and people she knows, and really does feel this protective, motherly bond over him.

Alisaie -> Has maternal instinct over (though a little weaker of one if only because Alisaie has proven over time that she can take care of herself since Urianger gave her her own rapier). Does think Alisaie can be reckless with her lust for adventure and stronger enemies to prove herself with.

Yda Lyse -> Just now beginning to be friendly again. Still not really all too pleased with her and that she kind of just swept the whole impersonating her sister bit under the rug.

Papalymo -> Friendly toward; questions his actions after his death regarding Lyse, however.

Tataru -> As a fellow gil pincher who keeps an eye on her finances, has a respect for Tataru being the coinkeeper and keeping the Scions' funds in check. She also just appreciates Tataru keeping not just the coin in check, but a lot of the connections and relations the Scions have since Minfilia no longer can.

Minfilia -> Has a respect and zero envy for the work she did to keep the network for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn going. Is also grateful to her, because since being in Eorzea, Nomin had to start at square one. Minfilia gave her an opportunity to have a lot of privileges that she otherwise would not have gotten having denied her offer. Was rather sad when she learns no one knew where Minfilia was after the events in Ul'dah.

Thancred -> Thought he was a bit too flirty at first. Since the events of Shadowbringers, though, has seen a lot of what he represses and puts on to rebuff others' curiosities or concerns.

Y'shtola -> Appreciates her no-nonsense attitude, and the fact that she is frank and to the point a lot of the time. Is willing to help Y'shtola in her pursuit of knowledge regarding visiting other shards, because she also has a vested interest in reuniting Thancred with Ryne.

Urianger -> Iffy toward, though working on rebuilding bridges. It's a slow process. She thought he spoke weird to begin with, especially with Eorzean not being her first language (and even with the Echo, it's a case of, "I know all these words individually..."). His siding with the Warriors of Darkness, however, had rubbed Nomin the wrong way entirely and she did not speak to him for basically the entire time till she had to in Shadowbringers.

Estinien -> Enemies to friends to lovers. Having met him in Coerthas for the first time, Nomin had immediately been on the defensive since he seemed to be ready to strike first. Over the course of their journeys, however, Nomin has seen Estinien grow, and grow for the better. She eventually built rather strong bridges with Estinien come Stormblood when she met with him on the Steppe (to her surprise), and then slowly fell in love with him through Shadowbringers and Endwalker.

FFXIV Daily Question n°71 : Tell us about the social circle of your character. Do they have a lot of friends ? Significant other(s) ? Colleagues ? Canon or player characters are all valid answers !

[minkufu]

Dagun Mankhad

A very pointy boy that loves needles

[golden-mediocrity]

In the Snow

Never did he think he would be here again.  A’ruun hated the snow with a heated, burning passion, and Garlemald was full of it.  He had been assigned to one of the Bozjan scouting squads, mostly because he knew the Eblan Rime. He had trained here, he had worked here, this had been a significant part of his life, it had even been his home in the barracks outside of the Tower Babil.  

They had been tracking a Garlean patrol that was making semi coherent patterns of movements, but every once in a while, they would peel off somewhere in a random direction.  Drawing on his years in the XIV legion, it wasn’t a tactic he was familiar with, but maybe they were doing it to maintain some element of surprise if they happened upon anyone else.  His guess was, they were tempered and lost, but they’d need to investigate further to find out.

There were three others with him, a Hrothgar named Vitally, an Elezen named Rothshance, and Willum, a middie.  All had seen a fair amount of combat, A’ru could see it in the way they moved, the light steps they took so that the snow would cover them quicker.  Roth had been assigned as his spotter, Willam the move ahead scout, and Vitty the Kitty, a name that A’ru didn’t say aloud, was pretty much orders and the oh shit brake if things hit the fan.  He carried a massive gun blade, ornately made, but definitely had seen its share of blood, bones, and bowels. A’ruun had admired it and even though he wanted to learn how to use it, had yet to work up the courage to ask Vitally.

The patrol kept on the move, not stopping for too long, Vitty sent Will up ahead to see if there was anything he could discern from them, make sense of their movements, anything and report back.  It had been an hour or so of them sitting in the snow, behind a hill, surrounded by nearly empty bushes. Roth had tried to keep a look out with his spotting scope, but the patrol had decided to move quickly away from where they had been when they sent Will up ahead, going out of sight behind some snowy foothills.

“He should have been back by now.  You know that’s not good,” Roth said, fear audible in his voice.  He constantly worried about the younger man who was only in his second year of fighting. The low bass growl came from Vitty, “He’s probably just being careful, there’s not a lot of cover between us and them. He’s a smart kid.”

A’ru took his long barreled rifle and looked through the scope, hoping for something in his reticle, anything of young Will.  It was getting dark and it had been way too long for Will not to have returned.  “We should get moving then, see if we can go wide that way, I think he would have probably hunkered down there if he got into trouble.” He pointed to a small copse of evergreens.  The other two just nodded and picked up their packs.  

The Garlean patrol was still nowhere to be seen, but they continued on quickly and as carefully as they could.  They weren’t concerned about boot prints or even the crunching sound that they made with each swift step through the snow.  It really didn’t matter when they heard gunfire from not far off.  They rounded a small rock formation, and caught a glimpse of the trees.  On the freshly fallen snow, there were pockmarks of green, black, and red.  The sight was exactly the one they didn’t want to see.  

Will had climbed up a tree, it seems, because there were hack marks along the trunk and a few branches pulled off, he was pressed up against it as two tempered soldiers had pulled him holding him there, trying to wrench his arms out of their sockets.  The horror came when they realized a third had been digging around in his stomach, removing his guts and entrails, slopping them down the front of him and to the no-longer virginal white snow.  He looked like he had been trying to scream in sheer pain and horror, but he no longer had the ability to while his life slowly drained from his face. 

The entire scene played out in a matter of seconds, but A’ru felt like time moved on slower than was possible.  He wasn’t quick enough to raise his long gun, but as soon as he did, he took the shot.  Fuck the rules of not killing tempered soldiers, his people weren’t worth the cost they were paying.  He took a single shot, misting the helmeted soldiers brains inside their container, and he watched as they dropped to the ground.  Vitty and Roth had already sprung into action, but were waylaid by more of the first legion’s lost souls.  A’ru dumped the sniper rifle and charged in, pulling his short sword free from his back, hacking, violently into one of the soldiers next to the tree.  As his opponent was pushed back, their helmet fell to the side. When they hit the ground, burning eyes stared at him maniacally, eyes that he knew.  Baatu had been close to him in the years after he was first conscripted into the Au Ri company. They had trained with one another, slept and ate next to each other, fought and were punished side by side.  

That man was gone, nowhere to be found in that monstrous husk any longer.  A’ru paused for a moment, and that moment was all not-Baatu needed to get the jump on him, causing A’ru to drop his blade into the fulm deep snow.  The Mankhad was pretty well wrapped up in whites and grays, fanged teeth sunk into the fabric at his neck, trying to get to his throat to rip and tear his head from his shoulders.  He felt himself fall backward as the other man snarled, bit, scraped, and kicked like an animal pouncing on its first meal in days.  A’ruun brought up his arms to try and shield himself from the attack.  He could hear the other tempered soldier now eviscerating what was left of Will, A’ruun prayed to Nhaama she had taken him before he could feel anything more.

As he tried to fight off Baatu, he grabbed the slavering Xaela by the jacket, positioned his knee in his gut and rolled backward flinging him off and behind him.  Rolling to his knees, he took out his dagger, he could see Vitty and Roth weren’t have an easy go at any of it as they were both outnumbered by ruthless, mindless zombies. Vitally had a few on him now, one latched to his body and fur, his coat having been removed in the melee, his body covered in blood matted hair.   Roth was screaming shrilly, covered with three or four of them, himself.  The snow around the elezen and the piled on tempered soldiers eventually seeped with a dark red, and the screams fell silent.  A’ru was only a few feet away from Will, or the remains of him, and he looked back on the soldier wildly feasting on him. He turned away from Baatu and jammed his dagger into the back of the black helmet.  The horns sticking out of that helmet made A’ru not want to know if he knew who he had just put down.

Loud, guttural roars and powder charged bangs were heard nearby, Vitally had his gunblade back in hand, fending off the four he had on top of him.  He called out to A’ruun.  “Get the fuck out of here, you pink bastard!” ‘That Pink Bastard’ was how he had always referred to A’ru, the bastard former Garlean soldier, turn coat, and now mercenary.  Eventually the name had some sentiment attached to it, and he wondered if this was the last time he’d hear it from that gruff, Hrothgar voice.  Baatu charged him, and woke him from his escape of reverie, anything to cope with the horrors of what was occurring all around him.  He sunk the dagger into the other man’s abdomen but the force at which Baatu tackled him, sent them both rolling like a snowball, into a rock.  The thud he felt as his back was pressed against it, jarred his entire body.  Baatu snatched at him, trying to pull off his scarves and his coat, now saturated in blood, it’s pristine, snow-white visage gone.  They wrestled for only a few moments before A’ruun could find the dagger sticking out of his former comrade in Garlean arms, he pulled it out and jammed it into the middle of his chest as the other man drooled saliva and blood all over his face.  A’ruun felt himself shuddering, crying as what life remained slowly left the eyes a blank window into the deep darkness of death and oblivion.  All he could do is stare into them before the body slumped against his and he could feel the entirety of dead weight pressing down on him.

The pain and sorrow he felt was greater than any wound he had ever suffered, in battle, training, even being captured and conscripted.  He looked off to his right and he could see the rest of the tempered strewn out around the Hrothgar, who was kneeling in the sanguine snow, his hand desperately grasping the hilt of the gun blade buried into the ground.  Heavily labored pants accompanied by rough coughs, wheezing, and groans.  The larger than life man who had been sent to protect all of them, fell over into a pile of blood and fur.  A’run rushed over to him, sliding in the snow.  He looked all over, there were deep cuts, gashes, exposed bone.  His evaluation was grim, he could see the man didn’t have long left, and he did the only thing he could. He reached down and held his clawed hand and brought him up to sitting with him, wrapping his other arm around the large cat man.  There were no more words that day, there were only the last faint, rasping breaths of the Hrothgar and the sounds of steaming blood on the snowy plain of the Eblan Rime.

[afreesworn]

Ghoa and Shael

Two mighty fine ladies!

@britishmuffin completely blew me away with this picture of Ghoa and Shael. From Shael's perfect attitude and badassery to Ghoa's stunning beauty that just barely hides her inner strength, I am flabbergasted.

THANK YOU SO MUCH MUFFIN!!! Your art is always SO wonderful!

Featuring @jaliqai-and-company and @shaelstormchild 's LOVELY characters that Nabi is so lucky to know.

[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].

Until Dashboard format isn't borked, you can view full post formatted correctly here.

- - - - -

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.

[sea-and-storm]

FFXIV Write 2022 Prompt #6: Onerous (Arukh)

To say that Arukh felt out of place walking amongst the seaside caverns of the Mankhadi udgan and their apprentices was but an understatement of woeful proportion.

Not only had it been the better part of two decades since last he had set foot upon his own people's lands, but even before his Choosing, he had never once walked these hallowed seaside corridors of stone and salt. None did, save for the Storm and the Sea's children. Such was a privilege - or a sentence - afforded only to those like his sister, favored by their gods. 

Occasionally, others of means were allowed brief entry when the need to consult with the tribe's advisors and lorekeepers arose. The khan of the Shuurga, for one, but never those of simpler origins such as himself. So whenever he had received the summons to speak directly with the Elder Stormcaller in her own Cloister, Arukh had been shocked.. but not exactly humbled by the invitation, for a host of his own personal reasons and misgivings.

He carried himself with spine straight and rigid as the well-worn blade he had been asked to leave behind before entry would be permitted. His face was a careful mask of neutrality, but the whitening of his scarred knuckles as his hands tightened into fists at his side might have betrayed more emotion than he wished. Not to mention the occasional thrash of the darkly scaled tail that followed in his wake.

If the older man next to him noticed the signs of his irritation, however, naught was said of it. Such was the way of him, as Arukh recalled, never one wont to invoke any manner of unnecessary conflict. Baidu Khan of the Shuurga had led his people through countless storms in his years, ever the steady hand that guided the clan through choppy waters but never the one to rock the boat upon which they sailed. 

When Arukh had been but a fresh-faced boy, he had admired Baidu's placid and measured carriage, every bit the image of the calm that lie within the Storm's eye. The Shuurga had always treated him with great respect and reverence precisely because of his even-keeled temper and his wisdom. 

Amongst the Kharlu, however, he'd heard no few cruel jests and insults levied at his former leader. Baidu the Coward, as he had heard the Kharlu warriors refer to him on no few occasions, was but the most mild of monikers of which he had learned. Such had irked him, but none had incensed him as much as hearing him denigrated and derided as Bayanbataar's most fruitful whore by one of the Kharlu fighters that had sought to get a rise out of him. 

He's given the Khan more children than all his wives combined, the man had sneered as he had poked and prodded for chinks in Arukh's normally impregnable, icy armor. Weak though they are, at least they're good to fall upon the sword in his true childrens' stead.

Arukh wasn't proud of the fact that the man had successfully found a weak spot that cracked his carefully maintained mask of detached apathy. He was proud, however, that he had handily laid his harasser out cold in the dirt in front of his own kin, and left him with a few less teeth in his head besides. 

As he fixed Baidu with a sidelong glance of his seaglass eyes, the battle-scarred warrior wondered if those same jeers had ever crossed the coastlands' winds back to his ears. He wasn't sure that even if they had, that the Mankhadi Khan would have done more than accept them in his usual silence. Worse, Arukh didn't know after having spent so much time amongst the Kharlu where might made right, if the thought of him turning the other cheek to the insult impressed him with Baidu's unflappability or disappointed him for its passivity. 

 "The Elder Stormcaller rarely leaves the Cloister these days," he explained as he escorted Arukh through the winding corridors carved out naturally by thousands of years of sea’s ingress. "Age catches up with her and her health is declining, which is why she has asked you come to her instead of answering your summons. I pray you will not take her request as a slight."

Something about the explanation and roundabout apology struck him, though it took a moment for him to place his thumb on the discomfort's source. It was that he spoke to Arukh with the same cool, careful deference that was normally reserved for the Kharlu anytime they descended upon their camp. Realizing that the other man viewed him now not as a former clansman sharing the bond of blood but as one of their brutal protectors that expected submission made Arukh’s stomach churn uneasily. 

Now it suddenly made much more sense why Baidu Khan himself had seen fit to guide him, rather than one of the handful of young apprentice udgan now quickly scurrying out of their way. The last Baidu had seen Arukh had been when he had been surrendered to the Kharlu, and surely he had never expected to see him returned. That he was here again now so many years later must’ve made clear that he had earned his place amongst them, rising from his former slavehood by merit of ferocity. The Kharlu considered him as one of their ilk now, even if he knew they would always view him as lesser. And considering that he had not shared the reason of his calling, the shrewd Khan would naturally be left with only the assumption that Arukh was here on their protector tribe’s behalf than a matter far more personal. 

His mouth opened at once to correct those surmised assumptions that Arukh suspected Baidu of harboring, but stopped short. He could not – would not – admit that he had come here upon Ghoa’s request to relay her messages. 

No one besides those she had tasked him with reaching could know that Bayanbataar’s Escaped Wife not only lived, but had recently set foot upon coastland soil once more. None could know that she sought to return one day besides. If word were to somehow make its way back to the Kharlu Khan’s ear, his unrelenting hunt for his sister would assuredly alight with renewed intensity fueled by more than a decade’s worth of pent up cruelty and frustration. The Far East had likewise become far easier to traverse in the wake of the defeat of the iron men of Garlemald than it had been when Ghoa had first fled, and so Arukh doubted not that Bayanbataar would send his finest trackers even beyond the Steppe’s furthest borders in pursuit of his greatest humiliation if given the chance.

The already tight fists at his side only tightened further with the knowledge that he could offer no reassurance to Baidu of his intentions without arousing suspicion. It kindled anger within his breast, to know that he would have to continue playing the role of the Kharlu envoy rather than that of the long-lost son of the sea returning to the shores of home. That he would have to endure being treated as an unwanted, untrusted stranger in his own homeland.

What an onerous duty this had suddenly become.. but one he certainly could not begrudge Ghoa for asking. Until Arukh could bring peace to these lands to clear the way for her safe return, it was the least she deserved.

“Elder Unegen,” Baidu announced as the pair reached the corridor’s end, opening into a wide cavernous cove that echoed with the soft churning of the waters pooled at its center and the ever-present drip of moisture off stone that would’ve driven Arukh mad to endure days in and days out. “Arukh Kharlu answers your summons, if you would kindly receive him.”

[tactician]

we lurked around the lunarcon venues tonight hehe 

[sentryandco]

#1: Crux

For as long as he could remember, Arasen knew he was destined for something important. He had prepared himself for it. He had prayed to the gods that when the time came, he would be worthy of the path that would reveal itself to him.

Then when the horrific visions came of the futures that could be, Arasen was nearly undone by the terrors that visited him every time he closed his eyes. But he didn’t bemoan that the gift of Sight was truly just a curse that no longer allowed him to see beyond the suffering that lay ahead. Instead, he persevered, escaping the precipice of insanity from the sleepiness nights and overwhelming despair. He had to learn that compassion and mercy had no place in his life, for if he was to walk the path that would lead to the salvation of all, he couldn’t afford any distractions that could detract him from his goal. He would fulfill his duty by any means necessary, truthfulness and happiness be damned.

And now, within the bowels of the earth beneath the ancient ruins that held powers capable of granting his ultimate wish, it was here that Arasen saw his destiny. This was where his years of torment and nightmares would end, where the prophecy of the Lost Daughter would be finally fulfilled.

Only, there were two paths that await him.

The first choice was the obvious one. It was what he had been working for, his years of machinations finally bearing fruit. The Lost Daughter had been found, and she had been brought to the altar of the ancients, where her blood and soul would give life to the god that slept. He needed only to nudge the tides of battle in favor of the black irises, so that they would take what is rightfully theirs, and awaken the nameless entity that slumbered beneath the mountain.

It should have been an easy decision. All those years he had labored, deceiving everyone, hardening his heart, and damning his soul, what was it for if not for this moment? 

And yet, it had been a journey of solitude. None else had walked this path with him, only the crushing weight of the foreboding knowledge was his companion.

But somewhere along the way, he saw the Lost Daughter for more than just the ends to his means. Nabi was warm and full of life. She was so eager to share her joy but also too generous in her mercy. Even after finding out about his machinations, she forgave him, and even offered him a second chance. But he should have expected that. The sacrifice had to be worthy of the greatness that awaited.

What surprised him, however, was the flawed and unworthy companions his cousin had around her. Arasen had long come to accept that the rest of the world was tainted. It was because of the imperfections, the hubris and greed in people’s hearts, that allowed for so much suffering to exist in the first place. And that was initially what he saw in everyone that Nabi called her friends and family.

Arasen had no hesitation in lying to them, using them, and manipulating them. He was certain a few of them would have to die, even if by his own hands. So then, why was he fighting by their side now?

Stormchild was easy to figure out, but dangerous to scheme around. A cold-hearted killer, whenever she threatened to take his life, Arasen had no doubt she would carry it through. But she held her hand, and risked much, including her own life, for the sake of his cousin. 

Then there was Saltborn. Quick of temper with a sour disposition, the hyur took a disliking to him immediately. Arasen was certain the Confederate had to die, for he was closest to Nabi, and the strongest obstacle in his way. Arasen had even put a blade to his throat, fully intent on killing him.

But in a twist of fate, Saltborn instead saved Arasen from drowning beneath the tumultuous sea, and even forfeited his chances to kill him outright, when more than a few opportunities were laid at his feet. With much reluctance, the hyur spared the Kharlu, even after fully remembering all the pain that the Xaela had caused him. All because of the slim chance that Arasen could now save Nabi from her fate. Arasen knew full well that he would not be here, if it wasn’t for Saltborn.

Then there was Ghoa. She was most like him, with her honeyed tongue and selfish motivations. And initially, whenever she extended a hand of friendship towards him, Arasen thought it much like his own incentive, to keep everyone close and yet at a distance, to watch them and discern their weaknesses. Enthralling her was an absolute necessity. But Arasen soon realized just how easy it turned out to be. Was it because she loved Batuhan that she assumed the best of him as well? Arasen could not deny that Batu’s fondness for the Mankhad may have softened his own disposition towards her. But that did not stop him from using his blood magic to tug on the woman’s thoughts, turning them to his own favor. 

But to his surprise, when faced with a great need, Ghoa offered something of herself, without any manipulation on his part. A schemer caring for the sake of others. That caught him off guard. But moreso, it reminded him that he too had such good intentions, at the very start of his own journey. So when had things gotten so warped?

It was because of all of them that he was even giving this second choice a thought. 

As Arasen stared up at the colossal darkness that loomed before them all, he reminded himself of the pure idea that began his journey. The prophecy had been about salvation and sacrifice. But what he hadn’t realized until now, was that somewhere within it all, was also a thread of hope. Of an impossible dream that could be realized if one was willing to give all they had for the sake of others.

Arasen touched his chest for the rune that was etched there, a tactile reminder of his childhood promise and his bond. Of his original ideals. To choose the second path would be to break the enchantment upon Ghoa. To return to Batu all that Arasen had taken from him. He would be severing his bonds with all of them. A wash of loneliness returned to him, but with it a sense of contentment. He wasn’t following Chanai and Siban’s designs, he wasn’t being driven by visions of death. The path he chose now was for hope, and a future of happiness, not for himself, but for others.

He would prove himself worthy.

[ver-caster]

Live music in the Azim Steppe

[paintedscales]

Chronicles // Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

A collection of writings I've done for myself to establish Nomin and how I saw her beginning her journey. Headcanons and my own extrapolations on provided material from official sources abound.

This is a more comprehensive list of my main writings -- if only to make it a little easier for myself without diving into my tag to find them should I need to. If anyone else is interested in these, then I hope this list also makes it easier for you to access them as well -- and thanks if you actually enjoy them!

I plan on retroactively updating this when appropriate.

EDIT: Currently being rewritten and fleshed out in earlier parts, so the list is going to look a little janky until I'm happy with where the stories can converge upon one another!

Hear. Feel. Think.

The journey of this Warrior of Light is not an easy one, not that Hydaelyn's Chosen ever have it easy no mater what timeline she has touched. Within this journey, Nomin tal Kheeriin has trial after trial thrown at her as she grows and ventures across the Azim Steppe. She learns of the people of the Steppe, becoming closer with her people and their individual cultures within their tribes. Such valuable lessons and teachings guide her on her journeys, even when she travels across the Ruby Sea that sees her to Eorzea and other places she never imagined she would have seen otherwise.

Main Tag: #NTK:Chronicles || Read this work on Ao3! (account required)

Tumet

Sagahl

Esenaij

Ura

Qerel

Oroq

Arulaq

Urumet

Dotharl

Dataq

Daritai

Malqir

Bolir

Haragin

The Rice Farmer (Extra)

Geneq (UNEDITED PAST THIS POINT; CONTINUITY AND PLOT NOW DISJOINTED)

Moks

Mankhad

Jhungid

Bayarmaa

Hotgo

Dhoro

Kharlu

Gharl

Mol

Ugund

Malaguld

Arik

Noykin

Dalamiq

Himaa

Iriq

Borlaaq

Gesi

Chaghan

Qestir

Olkund

Uyagir

Goro

Adarkim

Avagnar

Bairon

Angura

???

[r2ruen]

C&F: Flower Arc

Featuring: @shaelstormchild [Shael Stormchild], @sentryandco [Batuhan Kharlu] and The Dickhole [Arasen Kharlu], @afreesworn [Nabi Kharlu], @anchor-management [Anchor Saltborn], and @jaliqai-and-company [Ghoa Mankhad]

This was. Quite the project. But! I adore these characters and the stories weaved by not only the very talented DM (or whatever an rp equivalent would be called) @sentryandco​ who is the mind behind our current antagonist and some of the most bestest beloved “NPC” characters--i hesitate to even call them that (shoutout to Batu and wherever you are Myuto), but also all the flavor added on top of that of everyone's character’s individual stories and personalities I get to see unravel as time goes on. I always get inspired to do like... poster style Chapter/Arc pics in the past, but have never tackled one. AND SO I FIX THAT TODAY.

So this is dedicated to all of them and the current Arc. And also as thanks to you-know-who-you-are. 

So thank you. 

[moonlifter-archive]

[hydaelynshimbos]

“Wha’, am I not ‘llowed to show up earlier than I said I woul’?” The half hrothgar grinned, beaming down at Khojin. “Work can’ keep me gone tha’ lon’ from yah’.”

Dumb dorks featuring @pearlescent-scales

[afreesworn]

A Happy Birthday

@anchor-management surprised me with this very wonderful birthday present! It brings me such joy since it calls back to Nabi's first nameday celebration she shared with her closest people.

The picture shows that years later, they remain as close as ever, if not more so.

Thank you SO MUCH @anchor-management!!! <3

And if you want to go check out more wonderful art, you can look up @r2ruen!!