#while my hunter needs to get his fashion from vesper's

[kb1301]

Anyone wanna just do... a Vesper's Host? or a Warlord's Ruin? or even a Spire of the Watcher.

I literally vibe well with these three dungeons a lot.

[baidar-oroq]

17-Faded

(Vesper Bay, Western Thanalan, after “Ache”)

The adventurer was growing bored with her work in Vesper Bay.

It had certainly seemed an easy job when she had accepted it, in between bouts of much more strenuous activity in monster hunter and tracking down the odd bounty: simply spend a period of time, no more than two weeks, at the inn in Vesper Bay, to wait for a call that might never come. 

She hadn’t been given much of the details of precisely why she was hired, which under other circumstances would make her ask questions. Generally she took work that was more on the up and up than this, but she’d needed a little time off after a particularly hard fought bounty had given her a few minor injuries. The money though, was far better than it needed to be to just wait for a call, and she was a practical woman. If someone wanted to pay her a few hundred gil a day as a retainer, with the promise of more if she was actually needed, well, the adventurer wasn’t adverse to it. 

Her employer worked as a shipping clerk at one of the bigger warehouses in Vesper Bay-only one that she knew handled shipping for no less an entity than Lolorito himself was more extensive-and had hired her to be what he termed an insurance policy. He’d been involved in some business, he explained, that was perfectly on the up and up, but there were some interests (and here he strongly suggested it was a rival to Lolorito) that might take exception to his actions, and it wouldn’t hurt if he had some back up muscle to intimidate anyone who might do so. She did not particularly care what the warehouse clerk was up to-he’d probably either stolen something from the warehouse or had looked the other way when someone did- it was work, if it wasn’t somewhat dubious work, and she drew the line at the clerk making her do anything illegal.

It didn’t mean, as the days turned into a week with no word over the linkshell her employer had given her, that she didn’t get bored. It just meant she was being compensated for her boredom. It had mostly been a week of betting with some of the locals just how many times a day that Swyrgeim could sucker someone into buying her a drink of some fashion (the record was four times, a bet she’d won), getting pleasantly drunk herself on evenings once the warehouse clerk left work, and otherwise being bored. She occupied a table in the local inn and was mostly bored, the pain of her injuries gradually reducing to first a dull ache and then to nothing.

When the call came on the other linkshell, the one she had been given by the clerk that probably had been acquired dubiously, she honestly was startled for a few seconds, blinking in surprise before answering it. Maybe the dumb bastard finally figured out he didn’t need me, she thought. 

“I need you,” the lalafell that had hired her squeaked nervously.

Fucking hells, she thought. “What do you need? This has been a ridiculously boring job, pal.”

“Some people are nosing around my business,” the lalafell whispered. “The one that concerns you. Big tall samurai, Xaela guy, and a Viera lady, looked like a mage. Had a chest that wouldn’t quit, and...anyway. Overheard them saying they were heading towards the Waking Sands, maybe you can get ahead of them and follow them, see what they’re about.”

“Look…” She dug into her memory for the lalafell’s name, and finally found it “Jajariku. You want me to follow two people, hope I don’t get caught, and find out...anything I can?”

“For now?”

“Balls, that’s fucking vague, pal. You’re going to owe me for this. If I can even find them.” She had known that there was an element of Jajariku being a bit of an amateur, from how he had contacted her to the amount of gil he was paying her, but not this amateurish. She hung up and bounded to her feet, thinking. She was between the warehouse and the Waking Sands, the former headquarters of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, the sun was setting, which was giving her shadows to work with. Her leather armor was, thankfully, dark, and she figured with a little luck she’d be able to reach the roof of the Waking Sands and be able to keep an eye on the area, seeing if she could find the remarkably vague description she had been given. Something about that description nagged at her, something familiar, but she set that aside as she raced for the Waking Sands. She slipped into the shadows behind the building, free climbing the wall, and faded into the growing darkness on the roof to watch and wait. 

Presently, and somewhat miraculously, she glimpsed two people who matched the description Jajariku had given her, walking down the steps that led down to the entrance of the Waking Sands. The samurai was tall, muscular, his hair long and intricately braided, his gear master crafted, a katana that likely cost more than she’d make in years as an adventurer on his hip. He was accompanied by a Viera, tall, her silhouette that of someone in the gear she’d learned to associate with a mage. The samurai was blocking her view of the Viera (and that nagging familiarity came back to her again, hard, what the fuck was she thinking of) and he came to a halt, staring out at the docks nearby. “That fellow seemed entirely too nervous for someone who could produce a bill of lading that claimed to have delivered the shipment to the correct ship,” he said, thoughtfully. “He practically pushed us out of the door as soon as he produced the bill.”

And there it is, she thought, her hands resting lightly on her daggers. The dumb bastard stole something and has been waiting for someone to come asking questions. If I tell him this, he’ll probably want me to rough them up or kill them, and that’s that. Taking Jajariku’s money for what seemed to be absolutely nothing while she recovered from some nagging injuries was one thing, killing people for gil to cover up theft was another. 

She was about to slip from the roof to go tell Jajariku someone was onto him and he could pay her and she’d be out of there, maybe head back to Gridania to find more honest work, when the Viera spoke, her voice carried on the wind off the sea, and she blinked in shock as the familiarity that had bothered her began to crystalize, a voice from a pleasant memory that had not yet faded over the months. 

“You’re saying that he’s the one who stole the shipment, then?”

“Darya?” she whispered, her professional demeanor overcome by the undiluted shock of hearing the voice of the woman she’d known for two rather enjoyable weeks, another memory that had yet to lose its luster. That had been what had seemed familiar when Jajariku had mentioned a samurai and a viera woman; Darya had taken a job with a samurai, one of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, whose former base she was hiding on and…

Wait; if Darya is here with a samurai that makes him...

She was uncertain quite how it happened, because one moment the samurai was there, yalms away, beside Darya Kisne, and the next he just appeared above her, his katana drawn, crimson energy coursing around the blade. “Who are you, why are you on the roof of the Waking Sands, and how do you know my retainer?” Baidar Oroq asked.

Fuck me sideways, she thought. She raised her hands over her head and stood slowly. She heard a gasp of recognition from Darya down below as she said “To think, I considered taking the job she got with you in Kugane. Hello, khagan. My name is Mist.”

Baidar looked from the tall Rava woman in leather armor, then down to Darya, and back. “Why do people keep calling me that?” he finally asked.

[ask-taniks-the-final-shape]

Yo I literally vibe with Spire the most out of these three. (Probably because of the armor set). Let me dm you when I’m free

Anyone wanna just do... a Vesper's Host? or a Warlord's Ruin? or even a Spire of the Watcher.

I literally vibe well with these three dungeons a lot.