Winds of Change

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Winds of Change

It started far too easily and far too quickly.

For months now, the denizens of Nalbina have been full of discontent. The war has been over for more than three years, and yet the Archadian Empire has not given up the annexed town of Nalbina. The people have long resented the imperial presence which remains. The reasoning is that they are continuing to keep the peace, though everyone knows that "criminals" still get shipped off to Nalbina and never comes back. Those thrown into the bowels of the dungeon are never seen again, so rumors abound, and information remains scarce. Nonetheless, day by day, resentment and anger has been stewing at the border town. Today, it reached the boiling point.

No one saw the actual first incident. Only that an imperial guard was arresting a local carpenter and threatening him with a stay in the dungeons. A rock got thrown by someone in the streets that hit the unfortunate guard in the head. The guard dropped, the carpenter tried to make a break for it, chaos broke out with more soldiers trying to grab the culprit and another tackling the "criminal" worker. In a matter of seconds there were weapons being brandished against the citizenry and citizens making arms of hammers and shovels, and raiding nearby weaponry vendors for more potent ways of fighting back.

Within minutes, fires broke out, whether from arson or accident was anyone's guess. Blood and dead bodies, civilian and soldier filled the streets. Merchants were looted. Anarchy reigned in the streets and those who should have been bringing back order seemed more bent on fighting back, or at the very least preserving their own skins. And in all the chaos, every grimoire in Ivalice wrote within itself:

On this day, riots broke out in Nalbina, at great loss of life.

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((OOC Info: The riots will be ongoing for the remainder of the month. Whether or not your character catches the entry in the grimoire, there are other ways to find out about them and get involved. People fleeing the town will be seeking refuge anywhere else, and often with naught but the clothes on their back. A few people with new fangled phones might wrong number (or right number?) call. People of all sorts are needed to help quell the violence and repair the damage. People are hurt and some have died. Businesses need security guards to protect them against looting. Homes and businesses will need rebuilt after the fires. Healers will be needed to tend the wounded. Brute strength is needed to stomp out aggression, and to potentially talk angry people down. This post is open for any and all riot interactions, single post logs, action threads, whatever. Have fun!))

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[ A riot in Nalbina? The hunter frowns at her grimoire, yellow eyes flickering gently for the bit of flame caught from the candle within them. She doesn't like the sound of that, but then, she likes less and less the news that reaches her ears these days. Nalbina... that's that Nabradian fortress that fell under Imperial occupation, right? Her facts could use a little brushing up, but it's something to look into, what with a couple of the clan's members making their home in Dalmasca, which is likely to see some pressure for this.

Maybe it's a time for a trip back that way, even; though, she's loath to leave Jylland for the caution stirred in her about Rozarria's offers of help and the newly rumored poisonings. That has her worried about Al-Cid, who is overdue for another letter. His silence is worrisome. So much else has reached her ears, however, stirred in her a degree of apprehension, a fire that still surprises her on occasion, that's seen her reach out to familiar clans simply to talk about the threat she perceives, that they may not realize, so caught up in quibbles as they often are.

Heaving a sigh, Adelle sets her grimoire aside. She's got a lot to do this month yet and she wants to help everyone, but she needs to think. What's a good leader do in situations like these? What would Cid do? ]

Edited 2015-03-10 11:34 (UTC)

[Upon seeing the latest news from her grimoire, Mjrn doesn't hesitate in packing up as much supplies as she can easily carry before departing Rabanastre for Nalbina. Given the current chaos, she really doubts the skyferries are in service, but it won't take her that long to reach the area on foot. She knows the terrain well, having hunted often nearby.

Some of that supplies is distributed to refugees fleeing, as she encounters them. And of course she will also pause to heal the wounded and defend anyone who's in danger. She's much more careful upon reaching the town itself, not wanting to somehow aggravate the rioters into causing even more damage. But any who think her an easy target will be sorely mistaken, as will those who attack those defenseless.

Needless to say, Mjrn won't see rest for a long time. She's far too busy putting out fires, stopping rioters from doing something stupid, and healing as much as possible. Of course, she'll be running on empty after a while, so she's bound to slip up....]

[Penelo's keeping herself busy by trying to help people flee the area and healing the wounded. She understands hating the Empire, wanting to fight against it and get rid of it, she truly does. But this kind of violence just isn't the answer.

In the distance she spots a familiar pair of ears passing through the area and picks up her face to catch up to Mjrn, who looks utterly exhausted from effort.]

You look tired, Mjrn.

[Like Penelo has any room to talk. She's been dancing so much trying to keep people healed, or disable them from doing dumb things, she's worn her slippers clean through.]

[The viera turns at the sound of Penelo's voice, wiping her brow as she looks over her dancer friend.]

As do you, I see.

I fear this will not see an end for some time....

No, I don't think it will. I hate seeing this happen.

[Despite being bone weary, Penelo does a very hasty dance step hoping to refresh her friend at least a little.]

...I wonder what Larsa's going to do.

[Obviously politics are not her forte, but she can't help but wonder how Larsa is going to respond to something so awful. She can't picture him sending in more troops to viciously put down the instigators, but there really is no sign of a cease fire either.]

[Mjrn smiles and nods in thanks for the dance, then looks thoughtful at mention of Larsa.]

I doubt he will take any action which will escalate matters. Perhaps he will return to Dalmasca, to speak with the Queen? Between the two, perhaps there will be peace once again.

[She only has a vague idea of what it will take to get to that point, but she's seen both in action. Not politically, but still. If they can rescue her and put the world right before, they can do it again.]

I'm sure they'll work it out. I just hope it's soon. There's been too much damage done already.

[She sighs and nods in full agreement with that, seeing the disaster all around them.]

Indeed.

What shall we do now?

[Yes, 'we'. Mjrn may be tired, but she's not about to rest until Penelo does...which means it isn't likely to happen any time soon.]

[There's someone in the crowds who's not exactly rioting, but she's certainly not helping matters either. In her opinion, violently throwing off the Imperial shackles is long since overdue. It doesn't occur to her that some of these guardsmen being attacked, and sometimes killed, are just people as well with families, maybe children, parents who miss them while they live far away. No. To her if it's Imperial, it's a monster to be put down.

Anytime a crowd makes some sort of aggressive move against any obvious Imperial, Lisse is right in the thick "helping" by delivering punches, kicks, and sometimes a knife in the ribs.]

[ He understands. God, he understands. And maybe, maybe had he not looked at the grimoire, he would be taking up arms himself. And yet-

'At great loss of life'.

He sees the sun glint off metal - a knife - and his hand flies forward, catching a wrist. Rioter or soldier, he doesn't know yet, but he isn't going to allow this. ]

No.

[She certainly doesn't expect someone to grab her and stop her from striking her intended target. For that matter, she's so unaccustomed to being around people that someone actually touching her is startling, and not at all in a good way. She turns her wrist and tries to yank it down while barking out an angry:]

Turn. Me. Loose.

[Eyes flashing with fury, Lisse whips around to find herself face to face with that guy from the mines.]

This doesn't concern you.

I will not.

[ She's strong. Before he came here, even after all the battles he fought, that much power would have broken his grip with ease. But when coming here stole every spell he knew, it also filled his arms with strength. For the moment, he keeps his grasp of her wrist. ]

No more death.

[Lisse screams under her breath, infuriated that she couldn't break his grip on her. She knows she could well do worse to him to force the issue, but her fight isn't actually with this guy. Or well, it's rapidly getting there if he's going to get in her way. She glares at him and stomps viciously at his feet, hoping to get him to turn loose this time.]

They deserve it. All of them.

[Her target goes scampering away, realizing he's just been saved from a stabbing and she screams for real this time. Godsdammit!]

[ He watches as the man flees. Well armed. A trained fighter, visible in his movement even when running. Not a civilian.

He knows what side she's on now, at least. And it's a side he knows well. Well enough to make it hard to argue, he's speaking to himself as much as he is to her. But also well enough to be comfortable gambling on her having good intentions clouded by anger rather than simply a desire to hurt people for its own sake. ]

If his death will make all of this right, then go. Do what you must.

[ And he lets go of her arm. ]

Else stop this, and make me understand.

I'll do both. Stay.

[Unfortunately, her decisions are being corrupted by her anger. Long seething anger that has festered for six years. Anger that's driving her to eliminate every last Imperial the way they eliminated her people.

Lisse jogs after her escaped victim, waiting to get close enough to throw her knife and watch in satisfaction as it embeds in his throat. Good enough.

Satisfied that even if he's not dead, she's managed to inflict a mortal wound, she returns to Firion and beckons at him to follow her.]

Come. You will see with your own eyes.

Healer! Healer! Please!

[ He dashes to the man's side and then hangs over him uselessly, suddenly very aware that the white magic Minwu had taught him is gone. He calls out for the healers again. He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have gambled with another man's life. He'd been too confident that he knew her-

-no, maybe not. Maybe he'd known all along that had the man been wearing Palamecian colours, that would be his knife there, and just hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. Could his words have stopped him, in the same place? It's an uncomfortable thought, and his voice shakes as he turns to her and speaks. ]

Tell me where to meet you. And run, before you're caught. [ With that, he starts calling for a healer again. ]

[Her eyes roll in exasperation. This is why she's stayed away from people ever since Nabudis fell to the Midlight Shard. (That and she was left utterly alone to fend for herself and she didn't dare care for anyone again.) They have stupid ideas about some monsters being of value.]

Don't save that imperial trash. Leave him. Come to the Gate Crystal.

[She's not exactly feeling the pressing need to run since she knows were she to unleash her stored power, she could obliterate the entire town off the map. Thing is, Nalbina was Nabradian territory. And her true target is the Archadian Empire. She does have... something of a sense of morality. No need to make the innocent people of Nalbina proper suffer for the sins of the Empire.]

[ He stays. He stays until the man's pulse goes still, cries unanswered, then stands. ]

...Very well. [ He breathes in through his teeth and holds the breath for a moment, closing his eyes as he turns and exhales. ] Very well.

I will follow you. Make me understand why he had to die.

[Deep down, she knows she's going to regret this. That she's foolishly trying to connect on some level with someone she's still quite a bit angry with. She knows this will end badly and she'll fume even more for having opened up even the least little bit. But there is also that young child left in the hull of Verdpale Palace, yearning for someone-- anyone-- to tell her that it would be okay. And it's that tiny, quiet, insistent yearning for any sort of a human connection that's driving her.

She stalks over to the Gate Crystal without talking. Lisse won't have to say a word. The Nabreus Deadlands speak enough for themselves. Once at the crystal, she pulls out a teleport stone, takes hold of Firion's arm so he doesn't get separated from her, then uses the stone to move them.

One moment there is blistering hot desert sun, the sounds of a town still in chaos, smell of sweating bodies and blood that's been spilled. Then there is the cold emptiness of the barren stone. There is not even grass or moss. Just Mist. Mist like a heavy fog that never lifts, the creaking groan of an undead shuffling away in the distance.

Lisse folds her arms over her chest and says nothing.]

Edited 2015-03-18 20:36 (UTC)

[ The smell of iron is gone from the air. The sounds of the rioting are gone from the air.

The sun is gone from the air.

Firion looks out over the stone and mist and stone - there's nothing else to look out over. He is suddenly very aware of the sound of his companion's breath. Of his own footsteps. Of things moving in the mist, too far off to see. ]

There was something here, once.

[ It's not a question - at least, not the question that the words alone would imply. She wouldn't have brought him here if there was truly nothing. But what could it have been, to be so entirely- not here? ]

This was the kingdom of Nabradia.

[Was. But no longer. A whole country brought to its knees and obliterated. A whole people made extinct, save one little girl with inhuman gifts. Or perhaps a curse. Death would have been a kinder fate than the one dealt to her.]

The Empire did this.

[And there's the answer to his true question. This devastation is what she wanted him to see, the reason for her rage, and why every last one of those swine should die. It is justice.]

The Empire.

[ He repeats those words. Out loud, once. Then under his breath. Then he mouths them silently, staring out over the stone upon stone upon stone as far as the heavy fog will allow.

He doesn't ask how. What does it matter how this was done? He doesn't say anything else for a while. ]

I understand. [ Eventually. ] I truly do.

[Lisse is genuinely surprised and it shows on her face. She wasn't at all expecting that response from him and was pretty convinced she was going to storm away from this madder than ever. It's such a strange feeling, this sense of kindred understanding that it overwhelms and rattles her. It's different, unfamiliar... frightening. But she cannot afford to wrestle with fear.

She drops to one knee and presses a hand to the ground.]

I will avenge them.

[Even if it costs her life, she will see them all avenged. And yes, what she means to do will kill her. But it will mete out justice in kind. It is the smallest price to pay for seeing justice served.]

I fear I may be standing in your way when you do. [ He sighs, rather more deeply than he was intending to. ] But we can leave the fighting until then, if you wish.

[ Indeed, he kneels down beside her, looking out over the nothing again. ]

What was it like here, before?

[If he's not picking a fight or directly stopping her from exterminating an Imperial at that moment, Lisse has no interest in indulging in a conflict with him. It's possibly short-sighted of her to not thinking of the potential for trouble that could cause later, a sad side-effect of raising herself these past few years.

As to what it was like... there is much that could be said that Lisse doesn't know. She didn't know that her peaceful, self-sufficient country was once a center for agriculture and industry. All she knows are the warm memories from her early childhood. And it hurts so much to think on it. It's not occurred to her that thinking of how her home once was keeps it alive, if only in memory.]

I remember trees. The palace sat on the lake and the city surrounded it. Then forests outside the city. There were fields of flowers. I used to go there with my mother.

[Mention of her mother nearly breaks Lisse, which just pisses her off. She cannot indulge in sadness or grief. Because if she follows that path, she might never come back from it.]

[ He hears the way her voice strains there, and quickly changes to subject away from her mother. ]

What kind of flowers?

[ He can see it all now, in his mind, and he looks over the empty landscape imagining what might have been there before. A chocobo stable here, a shop there, the markets in the middle of it all. Maybe a church, bells ringing in the distance. The evening breeze catching the scent of the flowers and pulling it into the city- ]

It must have been a beautiful place, to be worth all of this.

[She has to strain to remember the names of the flowers. So much of her time since that ill-fated day six years ago has been spent on the barest necessities of life. Important things such as was she going to be able to put food in her belly for one day? How was she going to manage that? Was it going to be another night crying herself to sleep to stop the gnaw of hunger? Where was she going to sleep and would monsters kill her in the night?

Eventually though, there's a trace of a memory and names come to mind.]

Moon blooms and telaq flowers.

[Once there was beauty. Now there is nothing, but bare stone and death.]

[ He nods. The names aren't so familiar to him as the flowers of his home, but he's seen them on markets since he found himself here. He can imagine them, bright and beautiful, flooding the empty place as the roses of Fynn did. ]

It must have been beautiful. [ He repeats, and then says nothing for a long time. ]

You shouldn't have killed him. He wasn't the one who did this. [ It's a guess, admittedly, but surely if the man she had killed had once removed an entire kingdom from being so completely, chances are he wouldn't be a mere soldier. ] But- I think I would have done the same, were this my home.

It was.

[Getting that admission out of her is no small victory on Firion's part. This is something she doesn't do. She doesn't open up to people. She doesn't talk to people. Although the long silence she appreciates. It allows her to refocus herself, her mind, to concentrate on what matters most: attaining the power to avenge the fallen.

She does disagree with Firion about the soldier deserving to die. The man chose to serve the people who created this atrocity. Therefore the man is just as complicit in the crime as the one who brought the Midlight Shard to bear against her country. Her family. No. She refuses to think of them. It hurts too much.]

We should quit this place. There is nothing here any more.

Nothing. [ He agrees, taking one final look at the landscape. ] Not now.

[ Not now, but maybe one day. And with that, he turns his back to the empty place and faces Lisse. ]

My name is Firion.

[She nods once, acknowledging that she's heard him. Lisse recognizes that he's probably expecting hers in turn, but will find himself disappointed in that regard.]

I no longer have a name.

[Speaking it would only remind her of her mother calling her to bed of an evening, or her father laughing as he told her silly stories. No. No longer does she acknowledge that name. Those days are gone.]

[To be fair, this isn't Ceodore's fight or business. He's got no vested interest in either group. But it just goes against his nature to stand back and just watch while everything goes to pot. Especially when the end result is people dying. He's not taking sides, which doesn't make him the most appreciated person in Nalbina, but he's keeping himself occupied healing the injured, putting out fires and after a couple of days, directly guarding open shops from looters.]

Edited 2015-03-13 21:21 (UTC)

[Naturally, Ursula is there with him. She has no more interest in politics than he does, but healing, stopping looters and defending those whose only crime is being caught in the crossfire? That she can and will do. Since Ceodore is the better healer, what with having actual white magic, the monk princess focuses more on defending and bringing people to him. It's during one of those rare moments of uneasy quiet that she returns and heads over to see how he's doing.]

Ceodore...?

[Uneasy is right. Ceodore smiles faintly at Ursula because her being there makes things better, but the whole situation troubles him.]

Hey.

[His pale eyes scan the area, almost expecting something to go wrong, and then he sighs.]

This is terrible.

[Ursula echoes the sigh, slipping an arm around him.]

I know. I've done my best to lessen the damage, but this is bigger than the both of us.

[It is bigger than the both of them, and yet he can't help but want to fix things.]

I can't believe things got this bad.

[Okay so there was that barfight before over an imperial soldier being around but that seemed like an isolated incident at the time.

Ceodore pulls Ursula into a long hug for a moment, letting out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.]

[Though Ursula's entire body is tired and sore, she can't deny Ceodore that comfort. Not when she needs it herself, too. She slips her arms around him, leaning in and resting her head against his shoulder.]

This can't last. There has to be an end to it, somehow.

Hope it's soon.

[He doesn't envy the task for whatever leader has to step in and smooth this over. Ceodore's been trying to at least listen to what's being said and it seems like there's a spat about whose territory this is, Lady Ashe's or Larsa's. Both of them are fine people so Ceodore struggles to understand why there would be this much strife between their nations. Suddenly he's keenly grateful for the friendship his parents have fostered with the monarchs of the other nations at home. ~~Not counting Dad going crazy for a little while.~~]

You okay?

I hope so, too, but...politics.

[Ursula shrugs, knowing well that even with the leaders being good and effective people, it won't be that easy to fix what's gone wrong. There's too much history and raw feelings getting in the way of that. She sighs but nods.]

Of course I am. We made it through the moon's depths; almost anything else seems a breeze, compared to that. Though I think you and I could do with a brief break. A few moments alone to sit down and grab a bite to eat, if nothing else. Humor me?

[Yeeeeeeah politics. Something they both grew up on a daily basis. For all his obliviousness from time to time, Ceodore's been raised with enough of an education in matters of state to know there's even differences between things like 'international relations' and 'court politics' and 'oh hey parents I fell head over heels for a foreign princess.' That last one was obviously the best decision of his life though.

He perks up remarkably though at the mention of food. When isn't Ceodore hungry?]

Food sounds great! I'm famished.

[That perking up makes Ursula chuckle. As long as Ceodore has energy to eat, she know he'll be just fine. It's when he doesn't that she'll start to worry.]

Good. It won't exactly be a feast, but it'll keep us going. We can reward ourselves with a real one when this is over.

[At any time of day or night, whenever chaos is worst, Ursula can be found in the streets of Nalbina. She doesn't seem interested in aiding either side, but in mitigating the damage caused. To that end, she'll keep her eye out more for those innocents caught in the crossfire than those participating in the 'festivities'. Any in need of aid will be assisted in finding the quickest route to safety, gathering others along the way. Of course, it won't help Nalbina if the people are spared only for there to be nothing left to return to, so she'll assist any efforts to put out those fires which can be managed, as well as deter looters with her claws, kicks and her father's technique of striking weak points. Most at least have the sense to find easier targets, though not all....]

[ The first thing they always do in a riot is shut down the air travel. Can't have unruly mobs breaking delicate and expensive machinery, of course. Dissidents and rabble-rousers getting loose and spreading discontent to other regions wouldn't be good, either. And of course, anybody who wants to escape the violence is out of luck.

Which is at least ostensibly why Vaan's come to Nalbina. The Zephyr is small, but it can carry people, and this isn't the first time he's helped ferry people in danger onboard an airship. So to that end, he's landed outside the city, and gotten to work seeking out those who want to take refuge away from the bloodshed. Of course, this means going onto the streets, sword in hand, to find those who want to escape, and making himself known- without the attention of the more violent parties involved.]

[Penelo is here only because it's the right thing to do. She knows in some sense she really should be siding with the rioters, because she understands the burning need to throw off the shackles of a conquering nation. But resorting to violence just doesn't seem right at all. And she has faith in Larsa that he'll do what's best for everyone in this situation when he finds out what's going on.

She spends the bulk of her time healing the wounded, putting out fires, and conveniently doing a Disable Dance when she sees someone attempting to pick a fight or something equally aggressive. Not being able to act for a little bit seems to help cooler heads prevail. Mostly.]

[It feels like a longer trek than it was, perhaps owing to impatience in larger part. Hearing from Penelo was a relief, but hearing about the riots in the area that she and Vaan are in? Not so much. It's all the motivation that Reks needs to make haste, and with his company no less motivated, they get there soon enough.

It doesn't feel soon enough, but nevertheless.

When they arrive they're dressed in apparel that with any luck makes them stand out less than they did before. Reks scans crowds until he spots a familiar face, and then he's speeding in her direction before he can stop himself]

Penelo!

[She's grown up, grown beyond his age, but he doesn't pay that mind just yet]

[Penelo is a lot less little girl than he'd remember and a great deal more grown, with longer hair, more shapely, more woman. Her hair's still in braided pigtails though and she's never outgrown wearing ribbons and baubles in her braids.

She turns to that voice. Reks' voice. How she's heard it only in her memory for so long. When she would close her eyes and could see her family, including Reks and Vaan. Before the war. Before she lost them all. But never, ever, would she forget his voice or face. Joy radiates from her and much like a young girl and not a sky pirate, she runs to him, arms open for a hug.]

It's really you!

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