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anchor-management · 1 year

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C&F: Corruption Arc

Featuring: @sea-and-storm [Ghoa Mankhad], @shaelstormchild [Shael Stormchild], @anchor-management [Anchor Saltborn] and [Brick], @afreesworn [Nabi Kharlu] and [Roen Deneith], @sentryandco [Egil Nylor] and [Estrid Nylor] + ∞ NPCs, @tribblesfuriousart [Buoy Saltborn] [Diya-something-or-other], @banquoviaquo [Gideon North], [Orfeuille], [Luri Kai].

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The group's search for answers has taken them from The Far East, to the shores of Vylbrand. Their continued research into corrupted aether leads them to investigate a reclusive "Doctor Nylor", a name given by an ailing man--Abner Funk--that had a curious and yet similar sickness as Anchor during a visit to The Salt Strand.

Things quickly go wrong when the group splits to investigate the lead on two different fronts: Nabi and Ghoa devise a plan to infiltrate a theatre posing as entertainers, while Anchor and Shael travel to Upper La Noscea to follow a lead concerning the doctor's apparent employment of ailing individuals.

Separated and without contact due to a number of troubling circumstances, multiple plans fall into action over the course of the following days--with the help of some allies and friends in the midst--all eventually converging on Doctor Nylor's residence.

Of course, no amount of planning could prepare them for what surprises lay in wait...

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Some closer-ups.

This pic took entirely too long to do. That is all.

Oh, just that and the fact I appreciate the people involved in this ongoing story of stories. It's been years actual years and that is pretty cool.

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afreesworn · 2 years

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A Happy Birthday

@anchor-management surprised me with this very wonderful birthday present! It brings me such joy since it calls back to Nabi's first nameday celebration she shared with her closest people.

The picture shows that years later, they remain as close as ever, if not more so.

Thank you SO MUCH @anchor-management!!! <3

And if you want to go check out more wonderful art, you can look up @r2ruen!!

#This picture makes me smile each time I look at it #Lookit them happy #I LOVE IT #Anchor undoubtedly thinking he got something on Shael #Shael being like wha #I do love all their expressions #they are so soused #Shael Stormchild #Ghoa Mankhad #Nabi Kharlu #Anchor Saltborn #Ruen art #FFXIV art #C&F #I love this crew

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sea-and-storm · 2 years

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FFXIV Write 2022 Prompt #15: Row

Cheaters never win, the old adage echoed within Ghoa’s mind.. along with a faint, stinging throb. Too bad the saying hadn’t occurred to her before the unfortunate string of events that had transpired all within the last two or three minutes. Not that she would have listened to it anyway, probably..

A race had been proposed, from the end of the docks at Costa del Sol to a rock upon the nearby sandbar. Of course, the intention of the proposal had been for the racers – Anchor, Shael, Nabi and herself – to take the route across the sand and then swim across in the final leg. But such specifics were never stated and, knowing full well how horrid of a chance she stood in any contest of physical prowess, that clever mind of hers had begun thinking of a way to exploit the loopholes.

Her strategy? As the others raced down the roundabout path across the beach, she would head in the opposite direction back across the dock to the closest jumping point between here and the finish line. It shortened the run and swim both, not that she was overly concerned about the latter. If there was one physical task that Ghoa could claim some skill at, it was swimming.

The run was still plenty long for her.. less than hardy endurance. But so, too, did she have an idea for that.

"You know? I'm feeling so confident that I think I might even give you lot a head start," she hummed as she hung back. "I can start from right here."

"Ya’ up tae somethin,” Shael answered as she fixed her with a rightfully doubtful look. “..but that be yer game."

"I'm just saying," the Mankhad answered innocently as she takes off the sunglasses perched atop her head, stuffing them into the waistband of her swim bottoms for security. "I was raised on the beaches and in the water. It's only fair, you know?"

"Ya sure showed that gurgling salt water that time.” Anchor’s retort saw her gaze narrow as she looked over in his direction.

“That was different,” she huffed defiantly. For one, they weren’t atop a wildly pitching ship tossed to and fro by storm-frenzied waves, but she didn’t press the point. It was doubtful neither he nor Shael would concede that point. Besides, she’d show them just how adept of a swimmer she was when she stood victorious upon that rock, looking down upon them in triumph.

As the others started forward towards the end of the dock where the starting line should have before, Ghoa primed herself to leap into action the moment the moment the word ‘Go!’ left Shael’s lips.

Off she was down the pier like a bolt of lightning, only to hit her first stumbling block early. Her sandal caught on an uneven board of the pier, snapping the thong and sending her pitching forward. Luckily, she was able to catch herself, but the mishap had certainly slowed her. But she would win. She had to win.

Pushing down the frantic burning of her lungs from the effort, Ghoa kept her eyes on the prize. Wait, what even was the prize? Maybe it was that thought that caused her focus to lapse as she reached the pier’s end. Or maybe it was the quick look back that told her she was in the lead as the others just reached wading depth in the shallows, filling her with overconfidence.

Whatever it was, it kept her from committing wholeheartedly to the graceful dive she had planned. Another misstep and the Mankhad found herself suddenly sliding without control across the slippery end of the dock and with a shocked squeal quickly drowned out by a splash, Ghoa bellyflopped into the sea.

Well.. so much for winning.

Choking and sputtering as she surfaced, the bleary-eyed Xaela’s first instinct was to look around to see who had witnessed her embarrassment. Immediately, her eyes found those of a ferryman but a few fulm away, affixing her with a look that was equal parts concern and amusement with a healthy side of confusion atop it.

“You, er.. okay, miss..?” he managed as he leaned over the boat’s edge, offering a hand to pull her into the dinghy. Thank the gods he at least had the tact not to bust out laughing in her face, or else the Mankhad might have just lowered herself to the sea floor then and let the ocean take her right then.

“P-perfectly fine..” Ghoa managed with not a small dose of sarcasm as she paddled over and reached up to take the hand, using it to pull herself into the boat. Sort of. As if to only add further insult to injury, her foot slipped upon the edge and with another splash, back into the briny depths she went for a second helping of humble pie.

Finally, the Mankhad made it into the rowboat on her second attempt. By then, it was obvious that the ferryman was struggling not to laugh at what he had just witnessed, his cheeks as red from the effort as her entire front side was from the sting of meeting the water face-on.

Yet he paddled on in merciful silence and Ghoa pulled her sunglasses from her waistband – half amazed that they hadn’t managed to go by the wayside much as he broken sandal – and slipped them onto her nose. As if that would hide her embarrassment once she disembarked..

“Don’t. Say. Anything,” she huffed as she reached the sandbar, still red-tinted and hair bedraggled.

“The hells happened?” Anchor asked.

At least the others had been so consumed by competition that it would seem none had witnessed it. Only the ferryman and probably half of La Noscea besides once his shift was ended and he was able to recount the unfortunate encounter to much laughter later.

“Oh, um..” Nabi chimed in, tone suspiciously evasive. “Caught a bad wave, yes?”

Well, at least the only one amongst them who had witnessed the spectacular failure was Nabi, too sweet by half to acknowledge it.

Before she could answer, another coughing and sputtering fit overtook her. As she straightened, her tone was sour. “I hate races,” she huffed unhelpfully. “This was a terrible idea.”

Yet for all their amusement at her expense as they crossed the beach in search of what she sorely hoped was a nearby bar, Ghoa had to admit there was a part of her – deep, deep down below the humiliation – that was thankful for a moment of shared levity. It was rare for the lot of them to steal moments like this together in peace rather than having to band together in the face of a common, dire foe.

But next time they had a moment of respite, Ghoa sure hoped that no one proposed anymore stupid races.

#ffxivwrite2022 #c&f #ghoa mankhad #nabi kharlu #anchor saltborn #shael stormchild #this was QUITE LITERALLY the most hilarious series of bad rolls that I have gotten with the C&F crew #and trust me #i've gotten a LOT of terrible rolls #*stares at most recent nat 1 shenanigans*#but this scene will forever be one of my favorites because of it

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shaelstormchild · 2 years

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Out of Reach

While Shael would be the last one to boast about knowing anything related to healing, her proficiency in magitek was something she took pride in. So, it stung her ego to admit that she needed Marius’ help – an Imperial soldier of all people – to figure out what was going on with Saltborn. Shael had the tech to gather all the data, but not much of the know how's on the interpretation of it, in relation to the hyur’s current coma.

Nabi had been the one to monitor Saltborn’s ongoing ailment and communicate with Marius with the device that the Imperial had given them. But in teaching Nabi on how to operate the tech along the way, Shael was picking up knowledge on what various readings meant.

So, when the scan after exiting the lighthouse revealed Saltborn’s entire body lit in bright orange, with angry red blotches pulsing in various areas, Shael’s first thought was to bring him to Nabi at all costs. It looked critical, and if something dire happened to the Confederate and Nabi was not there to help him, the xaela would never forgive herself. And Shael couldn’t have that.

But their linkpearls were fried during their excursion into an underground cavern heavily saturated with corrupt aether and crystallized zombies to boot, and the alarm that had since been raised by Maelstrom at the unauthorized intrusion into Pharos Sirius had made immediate departure out of Western Noscea too risky.

One small measure of comfort was that Marius was able to analyze the data and reassure her that Saltborn was in no danger of dying any time soon. He was suffering from aether sickness, possibly triggered by an overexposure in the lighthouse. Brick had already tried to comfort Shael in telling her what she already knew – that she couldn’t have stopped the midlander from taking on this mission – but she still blamed herself for letting it happen. In Nabi’s absence, she was supposed to ensure his safety through this.

It was only with Brick’s aid that they were able to contact a chirurgeon in Moraby, and with Shael’s knowledge of the area near Swiftperch, she was able to smuggle Saltborn’s unconscious body out. They couldn’t go directly to Mist, they had to avoid all areas that had Maelstrom patrol gating the passage. But at least, Saltborn was in no immediate danger. He wasn’t well, by any means, but he would eventually come out of this aether sickness.

And that was the same news that the chirurgeon gave her once she reached Moraby. There wasn’t anything he could do, other than provide medicine for pain and nausea, and hydrate the man. It was up to the hyur to come out of it.

Shael was certain that Nabi would be able to do something more, the lass always had an inexplicable effect on Saltborn. But her messages sent by courier to their place of lodging in Mist came back unanswered. She nor Ghoa was there.

Had they gone back to the Nylor mansion? Hells… without the pearls, how am I s’pose to know if they are alright?

Then Shael remembered. She smacked herself on the forehead before rising from the table, retrieving Saltborn’s pack to rummage through it. She had given him and a pearl to Nabi! Except his was put in a lined pouch to protect it from his own corrupt aether. So, by all rights, it should have been protected from the lighthouse too.

Shael held up the pearl, and with lips pressed together with hope, she placed it into her ear, calling out into the aether. “Nabi?” She waited. There was no answer. “Nabi,” she called again. “It’s Shael.”

But rather than a voice coming through the pearl, Shael felt something else. The hair on the back of her neck began to rise, just an instant before a pulse washed through the room. She recognized it, it was a much weaker version of the forceful push of aether that Saltborn occasionally manifested in times of need. That version could have thrown her across the room.

Shael immediately spun around, eyes wide on Anchor. One hand went to his forehead, and while it felt still warmer than his usual temperature, it was noticeably less than what it had run the sun before. She pried his closed lids open and blinked when she saw his iris shimmer gold. Not the usual amber of his corruption, but gold… like Nabi’s. What in hells…

Without hesitation, she snatched up the scanner. And what she saw, she had never seen in any previous images before. There was a different color, lighter, less angry, but rather a soothing iridescence, that was rippling through his entire silhouette. But as soon as she saw it, the effect began to fade, as if whatever triggered the process was already over.

Shael stared at the image that was left behind. The angry red hue that had spotched over various parts of his body was gone, and the orange that had filled his entire frame was cooling back to yellow, leaving remnants behind where it hadn’t been before. But mostly, things were returning back to how it had been before the lighthouse.

This had to have been Nabi. Shael couldn’t explain it any other way. But how could the xaela affect Saltborn without actually being present? Unless this was something entirely on his part. He had been around Nabi long enough, had one affected the other? She glanced down to the scanner to note the data that was already being sent to Marius, and for a second she considered stopping it. But short of destroying the device, there was no other way. Besides, the man probably could give more insight on the matter. They had all trusted him thus far…

But there was still no answer over the pearl. Shael’s finger rested lightly over it as if that would beckon the other to answer. But her scowl grew darker the longer the silence went on. Shael shoved the scanner back into her pack and strode quickly out the door to find Brick. They couldn’t sit around any longer. Something had happened to Nabi and Ghoa and she needed to figure out what.

#c&f #can i join the drabble club #corruption arc #we had one job ghoa #shael and ghoa going to be taken off the babysitting list #not that either of them could stop these two from their stubborn ways #although which is harder #protecting anchor from himself #or protecting nabi from bads of the world #you decide

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r2ruen · 4 years

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My Light; My Heart

For @afreesworn

#you know why #picsbyruen #but honestly blessed to know and be able to write with you #<3 #nabi kharlu #anchor saltborn #i love them #dunno when i'll get over it #ffxiv

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sentryandco · 4 years

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#1: Crux

For as long as he could remember, Arasen knew he was destined for something important. He had prepared himself for it. He had prayed to the gods that when the time came, he would be worthy of the path that would reveal itself to him.

Then when the horrific visions came of the futures that could be, Arasen was nearly undone by the terrors that visited him every time he closed his eyes. But he didn’t bemoan that the gift of Sight was truly just a curse that no longer allowed him to see beyond the suffering that lay ahead. Instead, he persevered, escaping the precipice of insanity from the sleepiness nights and overwhelming despair. He had to learn that compassion and mercy had no place in his life, for if he was to walk the path that would lead to the salvation of all, he couldn’t afford any distractions that could detract him from his goal. He would fulfill his duty by any means necessary, truthfulness and happiness be damned.

And now, within the bowels of the earth beneath the ancient ruins that held powers capable of granting his ultimate wish, it was here that Arasen saw his destiny. This was where his years of torment and nightmares would end, where the prophecy of the Lost Daughter would be finally fulfilled.

Only, there were two paths that await him.

The first choice was the obvious one. It was what he had been working for, his years of machinations finally bearing fruit. The Lost Daughter had been found, and she had been brought to the altar of the ancients, where her blood and soul would give life to the god that slept. He needed only to nudge the tides of battle in favor of the black irises, so that they would take what is rightfully theirs, and awaken the nameless entity that slumbered beneath the mountain.

It should have been an easy decision. All those years he had labored, deceiving everyone, hardening his heart, and damning his soul, what was it for if not for this moment?

And yet, it had been a journey of solitude. None else had walked this path with him, only the crushing weight of the foreboding knowledge was his companion.

But somewhere along the way, he saw the Lost Daughter for more than just the ends to his means. Nabi was warm and full of life. She was so eager to share her joy but also too generous in her mercy. Even after finding out about his machinations, she forgave him, and even offered him a second chance. But he should have expected that. The sacrifice had to be worthy of the greatness that awaited.

What surprised him, however, was the flawed and unworthy companions his cousin had around her. Arasen had long come to accept that the rest of the world was tainted. It was because of the imperfections, the hubris and greed in people’s hearts, that allowed for so much suffering to exist in the first place. And that was initially what he saw in everyone that Nabi called her friends and family.

Arasen had no hesitation in lying to them, using them, and manipulating them. He was certain a few of them would have to die, even if by his own hands. So then, why was he fighting by their side now?

Stormchild was easy to figure out, but dangerous to scheme around. A cold-hearted killer, whenever she threatened to take his life, Arasen had no doubt she would carry it through. But she held her hand, and risked much, including her own life, for the sake of his cousin.

Then there was Saltborn. Quick of temper with a sour disposition, the hyur took a disliking to him immediately. Arasen was certain the Confederate had to die, for he was closest to Nabi, and the strongest obstacle in his way. Arasen had even put a blade to his throat, fully intent on killing him.

But in a twist of fate, Saltborn instead saved Arasen from drowning beneath the tumultuous sea, and even forfeited his chances to kill him outright, when more than a few opportunities were laid at his feet. With much reluctance, the hyur spared the Kharlu, even after fully remembering all the pain that the Xaela had caused him. All because of the slim chance that Arasen could now save Nabi from her fate. Arasen knew full well that he would not be here, if it wasn’t for Saltborn.

Then there was Ghoa. She was most like him, with her honeyed tongue and selfish motivations. And initially, whenever she extended a hand of friendship towards him, Arasen thought it much like his own incentive, to keep everyone close and yet at a distance, to watch them and discern their weaknesses. Enthralling her was an absolute necessity. But Arasen soon realized just how easy it turned out to be. Was it because she loved Batuhan that she assumed the best of him as well? Arasen could not deny that Batu’s fondness for the Mankhad may have softened his own disposition towards her. But that did not stop him from using his blood magic to tug on the woman’s thoughts, turning them to his own favor.

But to his surprise, when faced with a great need, Ghoa offered something of herself, without any manipulation on his part. A schemer caring for the sake of others. That caught him off guard. But moreso, it reminded him that he too had such good intentions, at the very start of his own journey. So when had things gotten so warped?

It was because of all of them that he was even giving this second choice a thought.

As Arasen stared up at the colossal darkness that loomed before them all, he reminded himself of the pure idea that began his journey. The prophecy had been about salvation and sacrifice. But what he hadn’t realized until now, was that somewhere within it all, was also a thread of hope. Of an impossible dream that could be realized if one was willing to give all they had for the sake of others.

Arasen touched his chest for the rune that was etched there, a tactile reminder of his childhood promise and his bond. Of his original ideals. To choose the second path would be to break the enchantment upon Ghoa. To return to Batu all that Arasen had taken from him. He would be severing his bonds with all of them. A wash of loneliness returned to him, but with it a sense of contentment. He wasn’t following Chanai and Siban’s designs, he wasn’t being driven by visions of death. The path he chose now was for hope, and a future of happiness, not for himself, but for others.

He would prove himself worthy.

#ffxivwrite2020 #prompt 1 #Crux #I had to invoke the image of Shadow of the Colossus #Since the final battle was inspired by that #Arasen Kharlu #Nabi Kharlu #Batuhan Kharlu #Shael Stormchild #Anchor Saltborn #Ghoa Mankhad #C&F #FFxivwrite

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bunbundango · 5 years

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A commission for @afreesworn! Their character Nabi Kharlu and @anchor-management‘s Anchor Saltborn of FFXIV’s Balmung server.

Thank you again for commissioning me to draw these two!!

#Art #Finished Illustration #FFXIV #Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #Nabi Kharlu #Anchor Saltborn #Old Lined Style

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mizunoir · 6 years

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Commission for @afreesworn ❤

#art commissions #commission #Nabi Kharlu #Anchor Saltborn #artists on tumblr #oc #others ocs #digital art #this one was quite a challenge but ooh it was so nice to work on it #thank you a lot for commissioning me! <3 #mizunoir

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wood-warder · 5 years

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"I have seen armored warriors bearing large swords as you, but..." She leeeeans over the counter. "Never ones that wore heels like those. How do you manage in the wild?"

#i don't remember how to take screenshots #nabi kharlu #anchor saltborn

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afreesworn · 2 years

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3: Temper

Nabi combed over each document, squinting to make out the letters and the numbers as they had been arranged, there within the dimly lit corner she had been occupying. A small lamp had been afforded to her, along with a low set side table, one small enough to fit in the space that was allotted within the cage.

Mister North had somehow managed the impossible, to make her prison more comfortable. The Doctor, in acknowledging that her well-being was in his sister’s best interest, acquiesced to Gideon’s requests for more amenities, including a pillow, a comforter, a small bed, a side table, and a cushion for her to sit on. As well as possible future visits from Luri, and even a privacy curtain for when she was allowed to wash herself. The aether dampener was still enclosed around her ankle, but the food delivered was personally tested by Mister North for drugs and poison, as well as for palatability. There was even a small cooking set placed just outside the cage for Mister North’s use.

None of these things really mattered to Nabi, however; a cage was still a cage, and she was still at the mercy of the Doctor’s next whim. But until she could attain her freedom, these amenities allowed her to recover faster. It reminded her of when Lord Musa allowed for similar comforts beneath the mountain. How she had encouraged Anchor to eat more and allow her to treat him then, to best prepare him for his next match. So that he could win, and they could gain their freedom.

This was like that, Nabi kept telling herself. She had to get stronger to be ready for whatever may come.

Having access to her own balms and herbs would improve the healing of her wounds. But what was even more important, was that the Doctor also allowed her to review what he has learned of his sister’s conditions so far. Some of his research confirmed what Nabi already knew, but there was other information that piqued her curiosity.

Estrid’s corruption, as Nabi suspected, was mostly concentrated in her head. Her left eye and her brain were what was obvious, but the Doctor went on to speculate that it was her memory and her emotional centers that seemed to be where the effects were noted the most. Even though her entire left eye was replaced by the crystal, Estrid noted no loss to her vision, no change, in any real way, to her sense of perception. But she was afflicted at times with hallucinations and delusions. And her wild mood swings and unreliable cognition were easy to observe.

The Doctor’s theory was that she was exposed to the corruption through inhalation. “A great explosion of energy, where the air was filled with corrupted sediments” Estrid had become greatly ill at first, but then recovered without her current deformity. But over the ten years, the symptoms began to develop, one by one.

The number of years, it couldn’t be a coincidence. It was the same for Anchor. Could they have been exposed to the corrupted aether in the same way? At the same place? Which meant that Anchor was right to suspect the Nylors in holding the key to his past, and to those he sought. It was entirely possible that Estrid was one of the people he was seeking.

It was with this discovery, that her thoughts inevitably returned to Anchor. Nabi had been deliberately trying to keep him from her mind, for with him, returned all other emotions she was barely keeping at bay. Even though it was his words she held onto for strength in her weakest moments.

But the night before she and Ghoa returned to the Nylors, she couldn’t get in contact with Anchor or Shael. Had something happened to them? And where was he now? What if he was hurt and she wasn’t there? And if he wasn’t? Nabi didn’t want to imagine the look on his face if he was to discover her like this. The pain she would see there, she couldn’t bear it. Just the thought of it made her tremble.

Focus, Nabi. Calm yourself.

Her fingers curled tighter on the edges of the parchment as she blinked away the moisture from her eyes. The Doctor’s notes went on to theorize that the rate of deterioration quickened over time. And more exposure to corruption caused even a quicker rate of spread. That too caused her stomach to churn, knowing where Anchor went, but Nabi forced herself to keep reading.

She couldn’t help but notice that there were some gaps in the Doctor’s notes. There was no mention of a promise of a cure, or of Abner Funk or other people he had hired to mine corrupted crystals. Or the dampeners he must have used in the gloves he had given them.

It was obvious the Doctor was not sharing all his notes. And from the illness Nabi had spied on Abner and Edith, along with her own personal experience, Nabi had a sinking feeling about where much of Egil Nylor’s knowledge came from. And the cruel nature of his experiments.

What was she to do now? She still had no means of escape from this place, not yet. So then, does she cooperate with the Doctor as she had agreed under duress? She truly did want to help Estrid, the poor woman was sick. No one should suffer like that. But did that mean she should share with this Doctor all that she knew? The fact that she could calm the agitation of their corrupted aether with a song? But that she too still had no cure for it…

But then what of Anchor? What of his need to right the wrongs that were done to his former siblings? Did that mean he would start with Estrid? If she was involved with the people that had enslaved him…

Could Nabi stand in Anchor’s way of what he needed to do? Especially if it meant helping Estrid, which in turn, would help him?

#FFXIVWrite2022 #FFXIVWrite #Prompt: Temper #Cigarettes & Fireflies #RP Post #Nabi Kharlu #Anchor Saltborn #Egil Nylor #Estrid Nylor #Gideon North #FFXIV RP #it is amusing to picture Gideon cooking just on the other side of the bars #what a strange predicament we find ourselves in #also I am excited that the arc really started revving up just as ffxivwrite month hit #This is just yet another example #that revenge is never simple #corruption arc

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anchor-management · 2 years

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Growing Concern

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[TW] Body horror? Probs.

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It was impossible to forget the feeling within those tunnels. Dark, dim, humid, and often so cramped you could smell the breath of the person working beside you. The stench of sweat permeating the stale, thick air, accented only by the aroma of ozone and earth. With every strike of the pick, he knew one wrong move could be his last. He’d seen it so many times before–whether it was the wrong part of rock, or the wrong part of crystal–either leading to one getting crushed and battered, or a good and much needed piece of one’s self torn asunder by the corrupted energies being abruptly unleashed.

Anchor drew back the pickaxe in his hands, readying it for another swing. He could see his mark, the divot he’d already created to guide his aim. As the sweat dripped down between his shoulder blades, he brought the tool back down towards the stone surrounding one of those dimly lit crystals, the eerie amber glow enveloping his form in a swathe of radiating warmth.

ping.

The familiar ringing sound of metal on solid rock pierced his ears as the tool met earth, and suddenly the hyur’s pick was embedded, not within the cavern wall he remembered so vividly on that island, but within a figure. Except, in place of flesh and blood was earth and crystal.

The creature’s ghastly face lifted slowly and stared back at him. No eyes; just that dimly glowing amber. The place where a mouth might be split open in a hissing wheeze, gradually revealing the molten insides of its cavernous maw. It got closer. The heat grew more intense. Anchor tried to get away, but he was held in place. There were many more of them. Once men, lost to the effects of the corrupted aether flooding the depths beneath the lighthouse he had been sent to; their features all distorted and deformed around the crystal protruding throughout their bodies.

Closer. The very air started to swirl and waver between them, the intense heat making his eyes squint as the moisture was pulled from them. Closer. He could feel own skin peeling away, the reddish glow overtaking his senses, consuming him. His lips split as he opened his mouth to breathe; to scream.

Anchor gasped in a ragged breath, and his eyes reopened not to cavern walls, but to tile, his senses returning to familiar pain throughout his lungs, limbs, and the feeling of water pelting overhead.

The hyur reached numbly for the faucet, quieting the hiss of water pouring through the pipes until silence overcame the small shower. He sat there for a moment longer, letting the current reality clear the recent nightmare wrought by memories old and new.

Roen and he had returned to the tavern. Things appeared to have slowed down enough. Or rather, he finally allowed himself to slow down, now that the situation apparently was under control. So, he finally made time to wash away the suns of sweat, dirt, and sick.

A shame to say it didn’t make him feel much better.

It wasn’t because of the aggravating ache permeating from his core and throughout, but rather it was this whole situation which left a restless, uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

Anchor pulled himself upright, grabbing for a towel as he stepped out of the shower, water dripping off in his wake as his bare feet dragged over slick tile. His thoughts were still busy with this whole mess as he dried his hair. The ruined opportunity to meet with Doctor Nylor for one, which led to him being rendered unconscious for several suns due to overexposure of saturated, corrupted aether within the lighthouse.

But mostly, it was the absence of any word from Nabi. Ghoa too, though recently Stormchild was able to make contact. But, why hadn’t either of them left word before then? Especially Nabi.

No matter how much reassurance he got, nothing felt right about this. How could it, knowing they were in the estate of some doctor likely poisoning his patients with the very corrupted aether he claims to cure? He never much liked the idea of Nabi studying such aether as his in the first place, much less with some lunatic!

He tossed down the towel onto the sink in a short burst of frustration, leaning his hands against the basin of it with a heavy sigh as it just as quickly left him. His gaze lingered, crestfallen at his own ineptitude to do aught but wait until he was updated. Curse this body. His eyes narrowed over to the left arm steadying over the sink, onto the hideous charred-like growth scarred along his forearm, then slowly lifted to the unfortunate reflection that greeted him in the mirror mounted just above.

Anchor never really was one to look at himself fully. Suffice to say, he didn’t much like what he saw; the lack of restful sleep over the sennight, the aether sickness, and the usual aches and pains all took its toll. His calloused fingers ran over his more pronounced cheekbone, following it over the bruise-like circle under his eye.

His eye…

As he leaned in closer, Anchor could see within the unnatural crimson; something so small, it almost looked like a trick of the light. Small veins glimmered within, that sickening amber color he knew so well. And the longer he stared at it, the more pronounced it seemed, almost like it was glowing brighter, and brighter. Or was it that, in fact, it was growing? His chest felt tight suddenly, and his lips parted to take in a tentative breath. Despite the building panic, he couldn’t seem to look away, just watching as that eerie glow seemed to fill his iris, flooding crimson within amber. It melted into his sclera, then peeled back his eyelashes and eyelid, breaking into the flesh surrounding it.

He watched in horror as charred earth split around a fissure of corrupted aether, spreading through his features like burning paper. He tried to gasp, but he could not breathe. All he could do was watch his reflection as his hardening lips peeled open into a gaping, glowing maw, the memory of those corrupted figures mirroring onto his image as dark ichor poured from the corners of his mouth.

Anchor’s back met the opposing wall in a heavy thud as he pressed a hand to his features, ready to claw at the formations overtaking him, but all that was felt there was skin. His skin, just as it had been before. Short, halting breaths puffed between his palm and fingers, and he slowly lowered them to look back to the mirror.

There was no growth or alteration on his face, nor further around his eyes.

Not yet.

Anchor stood there, breathing raggedly, regaining his equanimity, then let his features sink back into his hand.

#ffxiv rp #c&f #corruption arc #i should at least do one drabble right #anchor saltborn #i don't think he really wants to commit to the thoughts of what was implied in that lighthouse #but the concern is there #lurking

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afreesworn · 2 years

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6: Onerous

Anchor Saltborn certainly had a talent for being antagonistic.

But, as Roen reminded the abrasive hyur more than once – and herself on a few occasions – she wasn’t here for him. He couldn’t send her away no matter how many times he repeated the same sentiment. She was doing this as a favor for Shael. Her promise was to make certain that Anchor didn’t die from his aether sickness, which meant that all she had to do was to make sure he continued to draw breath until Shael relieved her of her charge. But that would be the very minimum that was required of her. And Roen simply couldn’t leave it at that.

Then there was this matter of another person in trouble. Roen hadn’t intended on listening in on his conversation – she was loath to pry into other people’s personal business – but she couldn’t help but note the man’s quick turn around in behavior when it came to this unnamed woman. And the anxiety upon his features was unmistakable when he spoke to Shael about her, and even more so as he waited for an answer with a different pearl in hand. As far as Roen could tell, no one answered on the other side.

Was there someone else in trouble, driving this man forward, despite the fact that the physical pain that wracked his body was clearly written on his face? His ragged breath and pasty skin made it all the more plain that he was still very ill. Why would Shael entrust one with such unfavorable disposition to a total stranger he didn’t know? Her friend must have had little choice in the matter. Was it so that Shael could also go and search for this woman as well?

It did not escape Roen’s notice that Shael did not share any details on why she had to leave in such a hurry. Which meant her friend did not want the paladin embroiled in this particular matter. And knowing the smuggler, there were probably illegal activities involved. Roen had already discovered the Wanted poster bearing Saltborn’s likeness in Moraby, although with a little bit of digging, she also discovered that there were no deaths or robbery involved. It was a matter of trespassing and assault.

Which raised plenty more questions that had yet to be answered, but Roen was certain her charge would not be providing any explanations. He was all too eager to get rid of her by way of vocalizing excessive contempt, not wanting one onze of Roen’s involvement in whatever he was about to do.

And had he just been an obnoxiously hostile fellow, Roen would have been tempted to let him be. Just follow him at a distance to keep her promise, to make sure he didn’t collapse in some ditch, and then when the fatigue eventually caught up to him, carry him back to whatever shelter and await Shael’s return.

But instead, here she was, driving a wagon with Naldiq & Vymelli's brand on them, thanks to her own connections. She thought to thank Reese, her accountant, in passing next time they spoke, only to decide against it since the misery hyur would definitely not approve of using their business contacts to assist in aiding and abetting a wanted man.

A small huff escaped Roen’s lips, one corner tugged upwards with vague amusement. There was a time where she too was a wanted woman. She supposed everything came around in a circle eventually.

She glanced over her shoulder, spying from the corner of her eye, Anchor barely staying conscious. He was fully tilted to one side, his head resting against the edge of his seat. He looked drawn as ever, his eyes squinted with pain. His gaze didn’t seem focused, but still very much troubled, wherever his thoughts went.

Roen sighed. She would keep her promise to Shael, and keep this man from joining the lifestream. And maybe she would even eventually convince him to rest, once they found what he was looking for.

#FFXIVwrite2022 #FFXIVwrite #Cigarettes & Fireflies #Roen Deneith #Anchor Saltborn #the grouchiest #of course the prompt would be about Anchor #who else is more onerous??#as Roen is finding out #but Shael did always have the most interesting friends #RP post #Corruption Arc #FFXIV RP

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afreesworn · 2 years

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12: Miss the Boat

Anchor’s hold on her hand had grown softer over time.

In their earliest suns, if he grabbed her at all, it was around the wrist or the arm, and only to yank her away from things, or hurry her along with him. Both were frequent occurrences, since Nabi often got distracted with this or that, or her curiosity drew her towards things without a thought for safety.

But since their escape from the fighting pits, when he now reached for her, his fingers closed in around hers. His steps often were still quicker than hers, especially towards the end of the sun, when he would meet her at her herbal stall in Rakuza District. It was so that they could walk together to the pier to catch the ferry back home.

Nabi could tell from his pace and his mindful ways of catching the boat on time, that he was not a man to dawdle away his bells. She wondered often if he had many regrets of missed opportunities in his past. She never asked, hoping someday, he would share those stories with her.

Disappointment was fleeting on his features the first time they missed their ride home, although there seemed to be no irritation towards her. Even if it was her fault—roaming about on their way from the stall to the pier, insisting on indulging in a dango or a cup of tea—he gave no looks nor words of blame.

But the second time, then the third, his stride became slower than the last. And when inevitably they reached the docks and the barge was already sailing afar, he sighed and turned to her, soft edges to his eyes.

It was because Nabi always had an idea of what to do until it was time for the next ferry. Whether it be to watch the dance of the fireflies in the Rakusu Gardens, or pick up delectable treats at Kogane Dori, or even peruse over the newest katanas at the stall of swords…

Each was a (secretly) delightful new excuse to let time drift by while they enjoyed each other’s company.

Nabi knew that whether the time was spent at home or on the streets of Kugane, they were all precious. But those random moments that happened out of chance by missing the ferry, those that otherwise shouldn’t have happened, they felt stolen somehow, from the threads woven by fate, where anything was possible.

And while that idea was thrilling, even in those pockets of time where freedom and impulse reigned, all she wanted to do was laugh, and perhaps, maybe, catch him laughing too.

So as they looked out towards the ocean, the fiery sunset sky silhouetting the ferry that was growing smaller into the horizon, Nabi felt a gentle squeeze of his hand around hers. Anchor turned back to her expectantly.

Nabi beamed bright and returned the hold, then spun around and pulled him back towards the way they came. She was eager to discover their next stolen moment.

#FFXIVWrite2022 #FFXIVWrite #Cigarettes and Fireflies #Nabi Kharlu #Anchor Saltborn #more moments from the past!#I also still love the art of them walking home with groceries #in the rain #in kugane #RP Post #Jubi #I love these two sm #make up post!#FFXIV RP

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sea-and-storm · 2 years

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FFXIV Write 2022 Prompt #10: Channel

[TW] Just a smidge of non-descriptive body horror, but nothing too wild!

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It was well after midnight when Ghoa finally finished with her fervent scribbling of calculations, slumping back in her chair as a great, long yawn overtook her. Though her mind continued to race with ‘What if?’s, the stresses of the day and the uncertainty of the unknowns of those yet to come had begun to weigh heavy upon her now drooping shoulders and eyelids both.

Her half-lidded eyes came to rest upon the scribbled list in front of her for one final appraisal. None of the reagents listed upon it should’ve been especially burdensome for Luri to obtain, especially not in a place so rich with trade as La Noscea. Most of that which she had requested were but basic alchemical materials meant to form a sufficiently aetherically conductive suspension within which the concoction’s main ingredient could flow unimpeded. But the final ingredient upon the list, though it would likely be even easier than the rest for the handmaiden to find and acquire for her, gave the alchemist pause regardless: a single lightning crystal shard.

It brought Ghoa’s mind back to distant memories, of late nights much like this one spent holed up in the grand personal library of the Parikh estate. Given that her Hannish mentor’s life work had dealt with the human aetherochemical condition, it was little wonder that the lion’s share of tomes and papers within those shelves dealt with such subject matter.

For one such lesson in the basics of aetherology early on in her tutelage, Sarasvati had assigned to her a number of those works for her to study and report back upon. It was to one of those papers that her mind wandered to now, a sort of academic warning tale of the fragility of a person’s aetheric state. The notes of an alchemist who had been tasked with the treatment of a fool who thought by consuming the shards of a fire crystal, they would thereby be able to summon and channel powerful fire magicks.

Naturally, it hadn’t worked out well for the individual, no matter how hard the alchemist treating their self-inflicted condition had worked to reverse the effects. Such a sudden and stark destabilization of their aetheric balance had caused irreversible damage as their very being had rapidly unwound like a loose spool of thread. Not only had it manifested in horrific external mutations in the subject, but the autopsy performed after had revealed that even their internal organs had turned black as ash, as if burned by raging fire. A miserable and painful end it must have been, to be consumed so violently from the inside out.

It was hardly a reassuring thought to allow to bounce around in her mind given that this was – albeit to a lesser and hopefully far more controlled degree – exactly what her potion made of ground lightning crystal sought to achieve. Thus was why she had to be so very sure of her calculations and her formulation. Every variable and value had to be exactingly accurate. Just a hair too much crystal in the mix and it stood to reason that she could very well end up as the subject of her own ill-fated academic paper meant to warn people away from exactly what it was that she was doing now.

Ghoa breathed out a shaking sigh as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Truthfully, there was no small part of her that wanted to just discard the idea entirely. It was too risky. It was too reckless. The margin of error was so punishingly small.

But.. that had always been when she had done her finest work, no? From the time so many years ago when she had fled the Kharlu, to far more recently when she had stood with the others against the embodiment of suffering itself deep underground.. Nothing had ever caused Ghoa to rise higher to the occasion than having her back against the wall, forcing her to have the confidence in herself and in those around her to see her through those trials.

The corner of her lip twitched upwards into a soft, tired smirk. Mayhap she was mad for it, but Ghoa would not back down from her wild plan now. She was confident in herself, in her ability and her alchemical knowledge. She was confident in Nabi’s peculiar restorative abilities being able to pull her back from the knife’s edge if necessary.

Perhaps most importantly, she had faith that if all were to go awry regardless, Shael and Anchor were still out there somewhere. That even if her own efforts did fail them, that pair – just as reckless as she at times – would have no qualms about cutting and shooting their way to their rescue if need be.

#ffxivwrite2022 #short drooble today #and nothing too ground breaking #just a little expansion upon ghoa's terrible definitely going to go to hell in a handbasket plan #come on shael and anchor #no pressure but ghoa is 100% counting on you rn #don't let her down #ghoa mankhad #anchor saltborn #shael stormchild #corruption arc #cigarettes & fireflies

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afreesworn · 2 years

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Plans and Diversions

“Thank you so much!”

Nabi bowed deeply in thanks as she received the small linen pouch from the miqo’te merchant. Her buoyant yet formal demeanor garnered an amused look and a nod from L’zuhjha, the latter just tipping her red beret in return. It was the usual expression Nabi encountered when she offered the bow that was customary in Kugane; she had been told more than once that such formal gestures were not needed in the west.

It was a hard habit to break, and… Well, she was forced to admit there remained more than a little nostalgia in that she still wanted to carry parts of her home with her wherever she traveled.

There was a restlessness about her through the last few bells, as her mind darted back and forth over too many questions without any answers. Nabi found herself meandering about through Limsa Lominsa, eventually coming to a stop where she had a full view of a lighthouse in the distance. She stared at it, almost longingly, for a long time before looking down and regarding the parcel in her hand. She pried it open, letting the contents spill out onto her palm. Three small pearls glimmered with a reddish-gold hue, reflecting the final rays of a setting sun that also set afire her view of the sea beyond.

And as all things did of late, it reminded her of Anchor.

It had been only a few suns since he left for Upper Noscea and yet every night, the vacant space next to her felt all the bigger, the nights felt colder, even in this humid coastal weather.

I am being childish, Nabi chided herself with a shake of her head. They’d even spoken over the pearl the night before. He reassured her of the mission he would carry out with Shael in the lighthouse near Aleport, with hopes of joining them within a sun after. And yet, as she kept his pearl close to her heart all sun, there was no word from him about his return. Nabi felt selfish in wishing for some kind of an update, when Anchor and Shael needed to be focusing rather on their own safety and success.

As I should be. It was a sober reminder to herself, for what awaited on the morrow. As excited as both she and Ghoa were about being invited back to the Nylor mansion, once they met both the Doctor and his sister, Estrid, it became clear that things would be more difficult and complicated than they had planned.

‘I trust some of the residents' eccentricities are now clear.’

Mister North had subtly insinuated before the visit that the Doctor was dedicated to his mysterious agenda, and that his focus was solely about his sister’s well-being. What he left out was that the Doctor, while polite and intelligent, seemed singularly obsessed with his research, throwing all caution and possibly even welfare of other people to the wind.

Without hesitation—even while all were all right there, listening—he assumed loudly that he would put Nabi to the test, to make sure that she was safe in Estrid’s presence. Nabi understood why he might be alarmed with the immediate affect his sister seemed to feel in her proximity. Doctor Nylor did not give Nabi an opportunity to explain that she has had prior experience with the very specific ailment that Estrid was suffering under.

She recognized the bright amber crystal that was glimpsed beneath Estrid’s hood, one that had completely replaced her left eye and was growing jaggedly outward. It was the same crystal she had plucked from Anchor’s arm, when they had removed the gauntlet that Elam Grave had forcibly placed there. Nabi was certain that Estrid suffered from the same corruption that Anchor did. Only, hers seemed far more advanced, in that it was visibly growing out of her, and also affecting her mental state.

Nabi had her own theory—the fact that her magic and aether were having some influence over Anchor’s corruption was now expanding to include anyone that had the same taint to their aether.

Did this mean that Estrid and Anchor’s path might have crossed at some point in the past? None of the corrupted crystals in Limsa were of the same element as Anchor’s; all the ones they had studied here were those that had exploded upon Eorzea upon Dalamud’s fall. Their respective energies were distinctly different.

Nabi felt her heart race faster at the thought. This was a breakthrough. Someone else that had the same sickness that Anchor suffered from, and had a sibling that was researching solutions to the problem! Surely, if the Doctor and she could put their minds together—along with Ghoa, who was far more trained in aetherochemistry—Nabi was certain they could achieve more breakthroughs.

‘But whatever it is you hope to gain from this family, I hope it is worth these diversions.’ Mister North’s warning came to mind again. ‘Doctor Nylor's words to me have hinted that his scientific efforts have not been altogether painless on his part or his subjects.’

The possibility of her being hurt scared her, without a doubt, but she could not let it stop her. Nabi placed her hand flat upon her abdomen to calm the fluttering there. She knew that science and medicine sometimes involved pain. If it took tests to reassure this Doctor that she was no danger to his sister, and that they were more likely to find answers together than alone, then enduring some procedures was certainly worth it.

“What be the plan then? If somethin’ were tae go wrong. You have your way out? Has ya been mindful of their numbers? How many he’s got in service? Blaggards high on their coin are trouble, yara’æ. Ya still hasn’t made clear how exactly ya see this goin’ from dancin’ an’ singin’ tae talkin’ ‘bout corrupted crystals and–oh, I dunno, how he’s fuckin’ with that Funk fellow with his supposed treatments!”

Anchor’s words from their last correspondence suddenly roared forth from her memory, that Nabi winced visibly. She inhaled deeply, to let the briny coastal air cleanse her thoughts, and perhaps remind her of their calmer conversations. She delayed their stay at the Nylor’s by one sun, just so she could let Anchor know all that was being planned. Of course, if he was absolutely against it, then she would have to figure out another way.

But Nabi was confident she would make him understand. Mister North had come up with an escape plan just in case things turned dire, and it was sound. Nabi wasn’t going back alone, she would have Mister North and Ghoa there too. And now knowing that this Doctor and she must share the same goal of finding a cure for this corruption, this had to be their next step. She was sure that Anchor would understand.

And he was near Aleport, which wasn’t far. He and Shael may even be back tonight or tomorrow. Nabi was certain of this course, now more than ever.

She squinted out into the distance, seeing fog rolling back in as the night approached. The sea looked calm, but she couldn’t see far beyond. It could not deter her. It would not.

‘Yara’æ.’ Jude’s softer voice filtered in. Just remembering the word brought a smile to her lips, and a calm over her heart. A firefly, he called her. ‘Like those ones that alight all them dark corners.’

With warmth lingering against her cheeks, Nabi slid the pearls back into the pouch, tucking it away. She needed to go find Ghoa and Mister North, both of whom were gathering supplies. But if she hurried, perhaps they could spot some fireflies by the time they returned to Mist.

#Cigarettes and Fireflies #Nabi Kharlu #Anchor Saltborn #Gideon North #Ghoa Mankhad #RP Post #i haven't written a drabble in awhile #Corruption Arc #Nylor not a good man #but Nabi gotta know #we doing this

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afreesworn · 2 years

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22: Veracity

The chocobo let out only a small huff of protest as Roen nudged him forward, having been woken from sleep to bring both her and Anchor back to the tavern where they had started the afternoon.

It had been an eventful sun to say the least. In the bells that Roen had come to know Anchor Saltborn, an ailing man that was left to her charge by Shael Stormchild, Roen had come to discover rumors about an eccentric nobleman named Doctor Nylor, who was possibly poisoning people with corrupted aether and conducting unscrupulous studies right in the heart of Mist.

What was most surprising was that one of her oldest friends and sometimes confidant, Gideon North, had also been recruited by Shael to help a small number of her friends meet this Doctor. Never in the passing years that Roen had been corresponding with Gideon could she imagine their reunion would come about in this fashion.

But that anticipated meeting would have to wait, since by the time Roen was at the Nylor estate, it was well after midnight. She was promised a visit with Mister North in the morn, which seemed to have partly appeased the otherwise disagreeable Anchor Saltborn.

Roen knew better than to believe that he became suddenly amenable from her inquiries alone, she suspected that Shael and Brick had something to do with the hyur agreeing to return to the tavern rather than marching into the Doctor’s estate. By his words, Shael and Brick have “got things handled” when it came to his xaela acquaintances.

And yet, something still felt off. Whatever was said to Anchor, it still didn’t satisfy him completely; the consternation upon his visage never eased. He only barely resigned himself to rest for the night. Then there was the miqo’te who seemed too sprightly for a stroll – in a dress, no less – in the middle of the night within the Nylor grounds. That in itself would have garnered a liking from the paladin, but Diya – as the miqo’te introduced herself – then proceeded to provide the details regarding the xaelas in question. Only, Roen had specifically and carefully asked about Gideon North only.

But all these details on their own didn’t warrant much more than a passing curiosity. So, why was there a nagging dissatisfaction in the back of Roen’s mind? Was it the number of guards she saw around the estate? Or the fact that something bothered Shael enough, that these details were deliberately not shared with her? Did they tell Anchor what he needed to hear to simply keep him out of trouble? The man wasn’t well enough to involve himself in any conflict as he was. Even Roen could see that clearly.

She gave the estate a look as the wagon slowly rolled past. The wealth of the place was obvious even from this distance. An expansive mansion surrounded by an immaculately maintained garden, and even with a private theater built onto its west wing. A few lights flickered from the windows of the residence, but the frame of the large home was darkly set against the white bluffs of Mist. Could something nefarious be afoot within?

Roen would have her answers in the morn. It would not be the reunion she was hoping for, but find Gideon North she must. She trusted that he, of all people, will not mince words in telling her the truth of the matter.

#FFXIVWrite2022 #FFXIVWrite #Prompt: Veracity #Cigarettes and Fireflies #Roen Deneith #Anchor Saltborn #Gideon North #While Gideon may put things in polite and palatable terms #He's always been 100% honest with Roen #I am very curious as to hear his answer in the morning #Corruption Arc #so this prompt #so many semi-truths being spoken by everyone #Roen would hate it #RP Post #FFXIV RP

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