Day 14 - Telling

Day 14 - Telling

"What gave it away?"

Bryn sat flat on the snow under him, the black and detailed helmet of the Garlean Empire resting next to his black armored legs, so stark compared to the white forest around him. He shared the embankment he was hidden behind with an archer, dressed head to toe in speckled white clothes, pants, boots, long sleeve shirt, jacket, even his hat, all built to blend into their environment and keep them hidden. And given how quickly the blonde Miqo'te had shucked the hat off, he did not like the chosen attire.

"This has to be the ugliest outfit I have ever worn. Period. The end." Kaleh'a grumbled a bit more, before he glanced at Bryn and lifted an eyebrow, registering the question a bit late as he hummed. "Gave what away? You've lost me."

Bryn grunted, silent for a moment, as he carefully checked over his armor. Was something out of place? But the entire thing was just as non-descript and intricate as any common foot soldier of the Garlean Empire, a perfect disguise for his infiltration of a Castrum. Blend in, get in, gather info, get out. And as a Hyur from Ala Mihgo, conscripts from his homeland were common enough. After checking all was in order, he asked, "How did you know it was me?"

"Ohhh! That? That was easy," and the message runner pulled out a piece of smoked lamb jerky and bit into it, leaving the ex-soldier flabbergasted as the Miqo'te seemed perfectly fine with not elaborating. Bryn lasted all of a minute before exasperatedly blurting out again.

"But how?"

Kaleh'a paused his snack fest, and gave the older man a look, shaking his head and shrugging. "Well, first, the mask doesn't really hide your eyes. The silver bleeds through, kinda cool actually. Top that off with your scent - which, by the Twelve do they let you bathe? - and your gait, it was all very telling."

Bryn fell silent for a long moment, and then softly muttered, "I have a tell."

"Huh? No! Not at all!" Kaleh'a laughed, finishing off his jerky and pulling out a letter and handing it to Bryn. "Look, I'm a message runner. I have to recognize who I'm delivering to by sight, sound, voice and scent. Sometimes with just one of those things. Throwing armor over your entire body, hiding your face, and changing the way you talk isn't going to throw me off. Anyone else? Sure! Now, hurry up and take this letter so I can get out of this frozen wasteland."

Bryn snatched the letter from the Miqo'te's hand, his short, nearly buzzed hair starting to ice with his helmet off already, and grumbled some more about Kaleh'a's deductions, reading the letter carefully...and scowling. "Should I ret-"

"They both verbally and explicitly told me to not let you return, and that it was mentioned in the letter." The archer rolled his eyes at the undercover man, and snatched the letter back, shredding it and scattering it in the snow. "Alright, now, I'm gone! Good luck!"

And before Bryn could object, the wily Miqo'te was gone, swinging up into a tree and darting along its branches, leaving Bryn to mutter into the silence, "I have a tell..."

Day 17 - Sally

[Minor Heavensward and Stormblood spoilers]

"Hold the wall! HOLD THE WALL!"

Bryn's rifle cracked, the ball of super heated aether flying through the air, and through the black armored chest of an advancing imperial, sending him crumpling to the ground as others rushed forward still, desperate to retake Baelsar's Wall, the only separation between the captured land of Ala Mihgo and the Black Shroud. Bryn still had no idea how, or why, the Grand Companies had suddenly taken the wall, or why they had chosen to hold it, but when the desperate call for reinforcements went out, he answered. And now, in the fort, they had a tenuous hold. One that would threaten to break if they kept letting the Garlean's rush the gates.

Already, Magitek armor was starting to appear from the Ala Mihgo side, three drill equipped monstrosities, and Bryn knew they would make short work of the gates if they were allowed to reach them, but the alternative seemed somehow worse. He gritted his teeth, his green coat whipping through the air as he turned and stormed towards the steps off the raised wall, hollering to the soldiers he left behind, "Keep shooting! Don't let them close!"

He nearly skid down the stairs in his haste, boots hitting dirt as he found a group of spearmen already forming up on the gate, ready to poke back anyone who made it through with nervous energy, and their commander lingering near their rear. Coward. Bryn was in the midst of them in a moment, pointing at the two closest to the front. "You! Get ready, when I open the gate, each one of you take half of this force and take one of the magitek armor. I'll deal with the third!"

"This is my command!" The shrill, untrained voice that rose in objection was silenced with a glare of silver eyes, with a flash of the silver wolf patch on his cloak, and a growl that was more animal than man. A growl that served to get the spearmen into rapid position, even calling over a few archers for backup. Good enough. It had to be, especially since Bryn turned, and kicked the block out from the gear holding the gate closed, and it started to wind open with heavy clinks of metal chains.

For the Garleans, they saw the gates to their wall opening, welcoming them back into its safety, and they cheered with feverish delight. But those cheers were met with a roar of challenge, from Bryn and his commandeered unit, bayonet fixed at the end of his rifle as it spit aether and he charged out on fleet feet. The spearmen and archers that followed struck fear into the foot soldiers protecting the machines, turning and fleeing as the magitek marched forward with its orders firmly in place, only to find their way blocked by a sea of spears and rain of arrows. They halted, turning their attention to their attackers, but the large drills meant for puncturing armored gates was not well equipped to handle rapidly moving dragoons or distant archers.

And the third didn't stand a chance against the barreling soldier as the Eorzea alliance sallied forth, meeting their attackers head on in a defensive maneuver, and for the time being, stalling the recapture of the wall.

It was only after the metal and magitek machine lay wrecked at his feet that Bryn realized where he was standing. That after nearly eighteen years, he was standing in his homeland once more.

And for the first time since the fall of Dalamud, he felt hope.

Day 13 - Butte

"We have to hold this position."

Storm Sergeant, Second Class Brynhorn Fiske of the Maelstrom stood beside the map as his commanding officer pointed out the different positions of interest on the Cartineau Flats, small black markers denoting the approaching Garlean army, while an array of red, yellow, and blue marked the opposing Eorzea one. It was just one legion, the VIIth legion, but the numbers... The colored markers looked small compared to the darker ones on the other side.

"This, here. We can't let them take our flank." His commander, pointing to a short, flat hill, close enough to rain fire on the advancing left flank of the Eorzea force, and Bryn crossed his arms over his red flame jacket and nodded.

"I see it. But we don't have forces to spare."

"Not in the contemporary sense, we don't." When the seasoned soldier's silver eyes lifted, he understood almost instantly what was being asked of him, and he scowled.

"That's a fool's mission," he growled back, gesturing to the butte. "I would need twice the men I have-"

"I'm not asking you to hold it." His commander cut him off, Bryn's penchant to call out stupid plans well known by this point, and the Storm Captain would be foolish not to listen to him. And they both knew it, which was why the Storm Captain quickly grabbed a marker to denote the scouting group Bryn commanded. "Look, your squad is fast. Quick to get into places, quicker to get out. Not to mention, you are almost all ranged combatants. You would see the enemy coming, rain fire on them, slow them down until you could escape and get us a signal to send reinforcements."

Through it all, the Storm Captain played out the scenario on the map with the markers, and Bryn's expression slowly turned from a scowl of defiance to a scowl of pondering. It wasn't ideal, not by a long shot. But the idea itself... "Alright," the Silver Wolf agreed. "Give me ten to prep my men, and we will move out."

"Perfect. Thank you, Sergeant."

"Thank me with an ale after this fight."

And as the Captain laughed, and Bryn ducked out of the tent, he couldn't help but look up at the looming red moon, and silently pray for his small detachment of soldiers, that their lives would burn bright and strong for years to come.

But the gods were silent, as Dalamud fell, and the butte that Bryn and his men made a stand on was wiped from existence.

Day 27 - Memory

No, not again, not here.

He couldn't move, the Eorzean men and women bravely charging around him, fighting with tooth and nail against the encroaching VIIth Imperial Legion. They were holding their own, each and every one of them, pushing back the larger force, but Bryn couldn't move.

He was rooted in his spot, like his boots were full of lead, like he was frozen in place by what he was seeing as they sky overhead burned red. He had fought here, he had seen friends die here. But he hadn't fought here.

No, this was the thick of the battle, this was not where he had fought with his small contingent of soldiers on the flank. But all of it, it felt far too real.

He heard it, the cracking sound of artificial earth, his head jerking up and staring up into the sky as the red moon, now so much larger, broke apart, magnificent wings bursting free from their prison, followed by claws, maw, and fiery death. He saw as the primal roared with the rage of his imprisonment, witnessed as its wings curled in and then burst open, unleashing a flare of small fire spears that rained down on both armies, and spread out throughout the land to seek other targets. He saw one strike a butte to the west, and obliterate it.

Where Bryn had originally stood on this battlefield. Where he had barely survived.

This wasn't his memory.

He saw the spell cast by Archon Louisoix fail, saw the monstrous beast in the sky ready to unleash a blast that would destroy the world as he knew it, and felt the cocoon of magic start to envelope him. He reached out, for Louisoix, yelling something, anything, to tell him to stop, to not do this -

But there was only darkness, and that sad smile on the Archon's face as he faded from view.

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Bryn started awake in a cold sweat, gripping the sheets he was under with panted breaths, the chill of that memory seeping into him as he took a slow, steadying breath, and breathed out. That wasn't me. That wasn't me. Not that it was worse than what he had gone through, but that moment, that moment was not his own. And that, that was calming.

"Hear, Feel, Think."

A voice, that voice, again, the one he thought he had heard before, had denied before, his teeth gritted as he growled out in frustration at it again. "Why me?" he asked to the air, to the presence there, and swiped a hand at where he thought it could be. All he hit was air, nothing was there, but he did feel that presence shift, fade, become nothing.

But it didn't change the fact that he felt like it had left something behind. Whether he liked it or not.

Day 12 - Quarry

The Black Shroud was alive with sounds and animal life, the ziz squawking about some meal they had found, bats screeching at each other, and anole running by in small packs as they chased down some small critter.

Trees waved in the air, their thick branches full of leaves rustling with the breeze, casting the customary deep shadows over the forest floor that earned the Black Shroud its name. The myriad of plant life that thrived in the shadows supported a booming scavenger ecosystem, the small and tasty game spread throughout the Black Shroud as they tried to avoid becoming a larger beast's meal. And for the most part, the larger beasts could easily find enough to survive and thrive too.

But every once in a while, one of those beasts got too big. Became too bold. And some lone traveler disappeared, or was injured, or their remains were found. It was a sign that some culling was needed, that the predators had grown too powerful and threatened the balance of the forest.

In those very same trees that swayed in the breeze, something shifted, something dressed in deep brown, blending in with the bark with a shirt of green like leaves. Crouched and still, like he was, a traveler or an animal would be hard to spot them, and in fact, a little squirrel passed right by him without even giving him a second look.

His bow rested on his lap, an arrow already in hand, his turquoise eyes scanning the forest floor about twenty fulm below him, watching the pattern of tracks carefully, the ziz that stormed by, the anoles that followed in their wake looking for scraps, and then finally, as he watched, he saw it.

The anoles, typically, didn't follow ziz around, the larger creatures more likely to turn and eat the smaller pack animal than leave them be. But when he saw what was following them, he understood why. Sometimes, the protection offered by a larger predator drew the smaller predators to them. Because the Alpha Wolf that followed was on the hunt for something tasty.

Only a soft chitter was given as the squirrel by Kaleh'a darted off as the archer raised his bow, drawing back the string with practiced ease as he watched the thin, lanky wolf stalked by, its whip like tail swaying in the air as it lifted its head, scenting the air, pausing for a moment to search for its prey. All the while, above it, the wooden bow Kaleh'a held stretched taut, arrow nocked, sighted, his breath drawing in...

It turned, looking up-

The arrow released with a small snap as the string slapped against the arm guard the archer wore on his left forearm, feather flights singing through the air as that snarling face turned up to look at the archer above, and the archer stared down his quarry. It was a second, between firing, and when the arrow struck, perfectly, finding the fleshy softness of the wolf's eye and burying itself deep into the skull behind. And a second more as the Alpha Wolf keeled over dead, the snarl permanently fixed on its face as Kaleh'a let out a sigh of relief, a shiver running down his tail.

"Didn't expect it to see me... Well, one down, one to go." After all, each wolf pack had two Alphas to deal with, and if Kaleh'a didn't take care of them, he wasn't sure anyone else would.

PSA: IF WE’RE IN A MUTUAL AND YOU WANT TO THROW A STARTER AT ME BECAUSE YOUR MUSE WANTS MINE OR YOU JUST WANT TO ROLEPLAY IN GENERAL —- JUST DO IT. I PROMISE, I’LL SCREAM WITH HAPPINESS IF YOU DO. YOU’RE NOT BOTHERING ME ; I WANT TO ROLEPLAY WITH ALL OF THE PEOPLE I FOLLOW. OKAY, YOU’RE ALL WONDERFUL. PCE.