Lucyfer
Said you'd die for me, well -- there's the ground
Balthier never doubted his ability to escape Nalbina Dungeon, with or without Fran and Vaan, although it was preferable to have Fran present. He was undecided about Vaan, despite assisting the youngster with a battle against three bloodthirsty seeq’s. He did not even doubt as he heard a group of Imperial soldiers speaking with the mercenary Ba’Gamnan, although he felt a touch more annoyed at his presence than he did about how soiled his cuffs had become in this dirty place.
The presence of the Judge Magisters, however, were a problem that Balthier didn’t relish.
“A Judge.” Fran called it out.
“Judge?”
“Hmph.” Balthier could almost sigh at how uneducated Vaan was of the wider world, particularly Archades, since they had taken over Dalmasca. A thief ought to know his enemies better. “The self-proclaimed guardians of law and order in Archadia,” now wasn’t the time to mock Vaan, and he couldn’t help but let the bitterness slip into his tone as he considered his own past as a Judge. “They’re the elite guard of House Solidor,” at least, while House Solidor ruled, “which effectively makes them the commanders of the Imperial Army.”
Vaan tried to get a better look, without escaping their hiding place, so Balthier opted to put a bit of fear of Archadia into him so he wouldn’t do something stupid, “If you ask me, they’re more executioners than judges.” That was enough to get Vaan to back away from the bars of the fighting pit. “Not a friendly lot, at any rate. What are they doing here?” He couldn’t help but ask it aloud, though he knew his two companions wouldn’t have any idea.
They weren’t there for him.
Thankfully, the Judge Magister had no qualms about discussing some of the situation with Ba’Gamnan, referencing a Captain they had to go interrogate. Balthier couldn’t recognize the helmet of the main one speaking, so he assumed it was after his time. The others, if there were others, were out of his line of sight. ‘The oubliette.’ Someone of that caliber to earn a Judge Magister’s personal interrogation would indeed be kept there, and that was their way out.
He couldn’t help the smirk that graced his lips. “Time for the hare to follow the fox.”
“Huh?” Vaan, always confused. If he wanted to be a sky pirate one day, he’d have to learn how to catch on.
Fran tried to explain, patiently, “The magicks binding the door to the oubliette are quite strong. Too strong even for my talents.”
“That’s why,” Balthier moved from the pit entry, patting Vaan’s shoulder on his way by, “We’ll get them to open it for us.”
“How is going deeper into this place—”
Tired of Vaan’s doubt, and having no time to spare if they intended to keep up with the Imperials, Balthier rounded on Vaan, “What’s wrong? You don’t trust her?” he snapped, though he knew that was cruel in his implication.
Vaan did look a touch taken aback and looked towards Fran as if to apologize, as Balthier added on, “Viera’s noses are sharp. If she says there’s a way out, there’s a way out.” No, he didn’t question it at all. Fran wouldn’t lie to him. It was true, she might be misguided, but she was willing to go through Mist to get out of here.
He believed she knew what she was talking about.
Fran did not speak up to that, and Vaan seemed defeated enough by Balthier’s quick jump to her defense to decide to go along with them. ‘It isn’t like you have a choice, is it? Come with us, or rot.’
Now came the problem of finding their weapons, while also not losing track of the Imperials. Thankfully, the majority of the Imperials had no idea how Balthier looked. Unfortunately, all of them knew he traveled with a viera, so Fran had to stay carefully out of sight, moreso than Vaan or Balthier did, as they trailed behind the Imperials.
The path, thankfully, took them near their weapons, although Balthier was not the one to notice this.
Fran called out as he and Vaan ran right by it: “Look!”
He quickly backtracked, and saw what she was looking at, “Ah! The prison repository of wrested relics and raiments.”
“So…our things are in here?”
His alliteration and wit was wasted on Vaan, “That’s what I said,” Balthier agreed, walking in and finding his gun atop a pile of other items. As it was freshly delivered, it was indeed on top, as were most of their things, although Balthier didn’t mind picking through a few other items to see if there was anything of use.
Potions were always handy, and he tossed a few to Vaan, as well as ethers, and a few motes, to add their capabilities if it came to a battle. He kept some of the spare gil he found to himself, though.
There was also a map, which Vaan found, though it had no information about unsealing the oubliette – which, they needed to get back on track to finding.
The relics and raiments would mean nothing if they could not get them outside of Nalbina.
~***~
Dalmasca had been an event, to say the least.
Liraz of Archades had expected some festivities, given she had arrived on the day Vayne Solidor made his presence as consul known, but she hadn’t quite expected so much violence. It had prevented her from speaking to Vayne that evening, given the guards thought it better if she stay locked in her room – which, admittedly, was probably for the best, but it was a nuisance all the same.
There was cleaning up to do after that, and when the debris settled, Liraz could not find Ba’al. Not a huge concern, considering he was expected to return to Archades. ‘Maybe he got prisoner duty.’ Escort prisoners to the dungeons, then return to Archades, or possibly, deal with interrogations if there was anyone important involved.
Liraz heard one name whispered about: Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca.
That, however, seemed unlikely, though she knew better than to consider it impossible. Stranger things had happened lately.
One thing that was not so strange was Montblanc enthusiastically looking over some of her notes. The little moogle was nodding along as she flipped through pages, “Yes, yes! We’ve had reports of strange events happening in some of these places, kupo! In fact, we do have a mark for the Barheim Passage, which isn’t far from here. Ishteen – kupo, sorry, above your rank.”
Liraz shook her head, “I’m not looking to hunt Ishteen, but if you could give me details, that might help me avoid it,” assume she could get permission to head out to Barheim and search it. She had started to notice a trend of incidents over time, and a lot happened in mines.
Henne, Barheim, Lhusu…with Famfrit being underground, she had a working theory of Espers being ‘buried’ although she didn’t know how accurate it would be until she started digging into it more.
Pun not intended.
“Ah, but, I need to get back to the castle or I’m going to be late,” she rose from where she was sitting on the stairs in Club Centurio, “Walk with me?”
Montblanc did agree, speaking what little he knew on Ishteen on the way. He assumed it was some sort of reaper, or at least a ghost, given the details provided. His presence also helped to deter some from approaching; Liraz's fashion was not Dalmascan, but Archadian, and she didn't bring her staff out with her, not wanting to antagonize by carrying a weapon. Besides, she could use magic without it.
Montblanc concluded, “Something with a grudge, that’s for sure, kupo!”
“Well, thank you for the tips, Montblanc. I’ll let you know if I find out much more on my own search – I might be in need of a few hunters!” If the Empire wouldn’t give her judges to use, or other material. She wasn’t equipped to handle an Esper on her own. There was no way one was just going to calmly back down like it did for Cidolfus.
That image was still burned in her mind, and still something she needed to talk to…Lord Vayne? Prince Vayne? Consul Vayne? ‘What do I actually call him here?’ She probably should have asked someone which was the more appropriate title in these circumstances. Prince felt like it, but would he prefer Consul since it was an earned title? ‘I definitely should have asked someone.’ She’d snubbed caring about titles since she entered the Academy, but this was a bit of a different situation.
This was someone who could have her executed for a snub. ‘Try one and see if it works.’
Winging it was usually the best way to handle these things, and so as she stepped into the meeting room, she was somewhat relieved to see she was there before the Prince-Consul. Not that it revealed much – this was hardly personal quarters for either of them, just borrowed space. Although Vayne was likely to turn this office space into a bit more of a personal area, given his tenure, Liraz was unlikely to do the same.
She definitely hadn’t packed for a lengthy stay.
Still, she couldn’t help but to approach the desk and skim the few documents atop it, most of them boring – damage reports, finances, other matters dealing with Dalmasca. She put a hand on the desk to lean into it, doing her best to read them upside down as something to do, until she heard the door open, and quickly straightened up and drew her hand off the desk to brush back strands of strawberry blonde hair that had fallen forward when she leaned.
She tried not to look guilty as she recognized the arrival and bowed, “Consul Vayne,” decision made – the title he earned it was.
The presence of the Judge Magisters, however, were a problem that Balthier didn’t relish.
“A Judge.” Fran called it out.
“Judge?”
“Hmph.” Balthier could almost sigh at how uneducated Vaan was of the wider world, particularly Archades, since they had taken over Dalmasca. A thief ought to know his enemies better. “The self-proclaimed guardians of law and order in Archadia,” now wasn’t the time to mock Vaan, and he couldn’t help but let the bitterness slip into his tone as he considered his own past as a Judge. “They’re the elite guard of House Solidor,” at least, while House Solidor ruled, “which effectively makes them the commanders of the Imperial Army.”
Vaan tried to get a better look, without escaping their hiding place, so Balthier opted to put a bit of fear of Archadia into him so he wouldn’t do something stupid, “If you ask me, they’re more executioners than judges.” That was enough to get Vaan to back away from the bars of the fighting pit. “Not a friendly lot, at any rate. What are they doing here?” He couldn’t help but ask it aloud, though he knew his two companions wouldn’t have any idea.
They weren’t there for him.
Thankfully, the Judge Magister had no qualms about discussing some of the situation with Ba’Gamnan, referencing a Captain they had to go interrogate. Balthier couldn’t recognize the helmet of the main one speaking, so he assumed it was after his time. The others, if there were others, were out of his line of sight. ‘The oubliette.’ Someone of that caliber to earn a Judge Magister’s personal interrogation would indeed be kept there, and that was their way out.
He couldn’t help the smirk that graced his lips. “Time for the hare to follow the fox.”
“Huh?” Vaan, always confused. If he wanted to be a sky pirate one day, he’d have to learn how to catch on.
Fran tried to explain, patiently, “The magicks binding the door to the oubliette are quite strong. Too strong even for my talents.”
“That’s why,” Balthier moved from the pit entry, patting Vaan’s shoulder on his way by, “We’ll get them to open it for us.”
“How is going deeper into this place—”
Tired of Vaan’s doubt, and having no time to spare if they intended to keep up with the Imperials, Balthier rounded on Vaan, “What’s wrong? You don’t trust her?” he snapped, though he knew that was cruel in his implication.
Vaan did look a touch taken aback and looked towards Fran as if to apologize, as Balthier added on, “Viera’s noses are sharp. If she says there’s a way out, there’s a way out.” No, he didn’t question it at all. Fran wouldn’t lie to him. It was true, she might be misguided, but she was willing to go through Mist to get out of here.
He believed she knew what she was talking about.
Fran did not speak up to that, and Vaan seemed defeated enough by Balthier’s quick jump to her defense to decide to go along with them. ‘It isn’t like you have a choice, is it? Come with us, or rot.’
Now came the problem of finding their weapons, while also not losing track of the Imperials. Thankfully, the majority of the Imperials had no idea how Balthier looked. Unfortunately, all of them knew he traveled with a viera, so Fran had to stay carefully out of sight, moreso than Vaan or Balthier did, as they trailed behind the Imperials.
The path, thankfully, took them near their weapons, although Balthier was not the one to notice this.
Fran called out as he and Vaan ran right by it: “Look!”
He quickly backtracked, and saw what she was looking at, “Ah! The prison repository of wrested relics and raiments.”
“So…our things are in here?”
His alliteration and wit was wasted on Vaan, “That’s what I said,” Balthier agreed, walking in and finding his gun atop a pile of other items. As it was freshly delivered, it was indeed on top, as were most of their things, although Balthier didn’t mind picking through a few other items to see if there was anything of use.
Potions were always handy, and he tossed a few to Vaan, as well as ethers, and a few motes, to add their capabilities if it came to a battle. He kept some of the spare gil he found to himself, though.
There was also a map, which Vaan found, though it had no information about unsealing the oubliette – which, they needed to get back on track to finding.
The relics and raiments would mean nothing if they could not get them outside of Nalbina.
~***~
Dalmasca had been an event, to say the least.
Liraz of Archades had expected some festivities, given she had arrived on the day Vayne Solidor made his presence as consul known, but she hadn’t quite expected so much violence. It had prevented her from speaking to Vayne that evening, given the guards thought it better if she stay locked in her room – which, admittedly, was probably for the best, but it was a nuisance all the same.
There was cleaning up to do after that, and when the debris settled, Liraz could not find Ba’al. Not a huge concern, considering he was expected to return to Archades. ‘Maybe he got prisoner duty.’ Escort prisoners to the dungeons, then return to Archades, or possibly, deal with interrogations if there was anyone important involved.
Liraz heard one name whispered about: Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca.
That, however, seemed unlikely, though she knew better than to consider it impossible. Stranger things had happened lately.
One thing that was not so strange was Montblanc enthusiastically looking over some of her notes. The little moogle was nodding along as she flipped through pages, “Yes, yes! We’ve had reports of strange events happening in some of these places, kupo! In fact, we do have a mark for the Barheim Passage, which isn’t far from here. Ishteen – kupo, sorry, above your rank.”
Liraz shook her head, “I’m not looking to hunt Ishteen, but if you could give me details, that might help me avoid it,” assume she could get permission to head out to Barheim and search it. She had started to notice a trend of incidents over time, and a lot happened in mines.
Henne, Barheim, Lhusu…with Famfrit being underground, she had a working theory of Espers being ‘buried’ although she didn’t know how accurate it would be until she started digging into it more.
Pun not intended.
“Ah, but, I need to get back to the castle or I’m going to be late,” she rose from where she was sitting on the stairs in Club Centurio, “Walk with me?”
Montblanc did agree, speaking what little he knew on Ishteen on the way. He assumed it was some sort of reaper, or at least a ghost, given the details provided. His presence also helped to deter some from approaching; Liraz's fashion was not Dalmascan, but Archadian, and she didn't bring her staff out with her, not wanting to antagonize by carrying a weapon. Besides, she could use magic without it.
Montblanc concluded, “Something with a grudge, that’s for sure, kupo!”
“Well, thank you for the tips, Montblanc. I’ll let you know if I find out much more on my own search – I might be in need of a few hunters!” If the Empire wouldn’t give her judges to use, or other material. She wasn’t equipped to handle an Esper on her own. There was no way one was just going to calmly back down like it did for Cidolfus.
That image was still burned in her mind, and still something she needed to talk to…Lord Vayne? Prince Vayne? Consul Vayne? ‘What do I actually call him here?’ She probably should have asked someone which was the more appropriate title in these circumstances. Prince felt like it, but would he prefer Consul since it was an earned title? ‘I definitely should have asked someone.’ She’d snubbed caring about titles since she entered the Academy, but this was a bit of a different situation.
This was someone who could have her executed for a snub. ‘Try one and see if it works.’
Winging it was usually the best way to handle these things, and so as she stepped into the meeting room, she was somewhat relieved to see she was there before the Prince-Consul. Not that it revealed much – this was hardly personal quarters for either of them, just borrowed space. Although Vayne was likely to turn this office space into a bit more of a personal area, given his tenure, Liraz was unlikely to do the same.
She definitely hadn’t packed for a lengthy stay.
Still, she couldn’t help but to approach the desk and skim the few documents atop it, most of them boring – damage reports, finances, other matters dealing with Dalmasca. She put a hand on the desk to lean into it, doing her best to read them upside down as something to do, until she heard the door open, and quickly straightened up and drew her hand off the desk to brush back strands of strawberry blonde hair that had fallen forward when she leaned.
She tried not to look guilty as she recognized the arrival and bowed, “Consul Vayne,” decision made – the title he earned it was.
