[Phone Calls/ Action in Narshe]

[bearitproudly.livejournal.com]

[Basch is a busy busy man, and on his list of duties, he has phone calls.

The first is to Lightning.

Second is to Balthier.

Third is to Ashe.

Fourth is to Noah.

Now that those were done, he'll take the time to wander Narshe a bit.]

action - Troia. [open to those in Troia.]

[scarletgriffon.livejournal.com]

[Excenmille has realized something very, very important during the journey to Troia alongside Lilisette, and that something will probably remain with him for the rest of his days. What is it? It's the fact that airships are not. good. ideas. The young Count is feeling remarkably under the weather as a result of his journey-- too proud to show any fear when he boarded the strange mechanical thing; and now too stubborn, far too stubborn to admit that the whole experience has made him feel remarkably sick. So he merely treads alongside the dancer, an arm twisted up to rest a hand on the sheathe of his greatsword.

Yes, they've had to deal with a few monsters on the way. Nothing of worth though; one or two charges has generally either had them bolt or die. He knows that Lilisette is more than capable of fighting; but something ingrained into him won't allow her to- not while he's here. Maybe it's the root of chivalry -- the same kind his father displayed. He has little idea, and he doesn't really think on it all that much. Instead, he's merely trying his hardest to not vomit; the nausea from the airship ride not going away all that quickly.

Finally, the pair arrive in the city, and Excenmille merely gives it a tired glance -- staring back at the soldiers which of course stare at the dark-skinned child with pointy ears in full body armor.]

...This must be it. I suggest that you rest yourself at the inn...
I will look for Rahal. The area seems guarded enough. Perhaps they may know something.

[Needless to say, he has little idea of Lilisette's relationship with the royal family. Or any of the meetings she's arranged.]

[action- west caedarva mire (nashmau.)- closed (vincent, rishfee).]

[immortal-lion.livejournal.com]

[After the battle with the experimental lamia, Rishfee had been left reeling. Not by Hellmasker -- Vincent had always referred to his demons in the plural, even told him of some of them. But by Lilisette. Immortals had abilities that most humans could only dream of. One of which was the ability to percept auras. Stronger, more powerful Immortals than Rishfee could even twist reality and predict the future. And he wished for nothing more than that ability after he percepted and pinpointed the change that had come over the dancer during the battle. The Dark Divinity. She was linked to him in some way- even if just for a moment, when those black markings appeared on her face. When she'd changed, he'd felt the Astral wind and the flames of Asgarth both -- and it had confused and terrified him at the same time.

He'd said nothing. Merely treated her after the battle with the same courtesy as Vincent, practically dragged the pair away into the small settlement that he had been trying to keep a secret. They were both wounded. Taking them back to the staging point would have not done. One, or both of them would have keeled long before they had even reached it.

So the pair of them had been left in one of the abandoned buildings; amidst curious qijirn healers and a multitude of woven blankets. He was wounded, but he could not rest. Night was falling, and the qujirn were barricading themselves indoors as was Near Eastern custom. Not a soul wandered the streets after dark apart from him -- lying, head in hands and half dreaming upon one of the highest ramparts the ruined settlement afforded, eyes fixed upon the mist of the mire which surrounded it. ]