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Nihka's MusingsIt was a few days after the ... incident. The smell of smoke was finally washed out of her hair, and hopefully the men and women living in that chamber had calmed down. On an airship to Ishgard, Nihka clutched a small box close to her chest and watched the gloomy clouds part around the holy city. Ishgard itself was massive, and majestic. Even its airship docks held an air of the age and pride that oozed from every corner of its stone construction.
Nihka was uncertain how old the docks actually were. In fact, despite their apparent age, she assumed a great deal of this grand city had been rebuilt several times over, over the centuries of war. Perhaps the large platform had originally been built for black chocobos, and only been repurposed for airships recently. All told, it didn’t matter, and her musings drifted away as the ship docked and she set foot on solid ground.
Wind whipped at the scarf she had tied over her hair, frigid enough that she had to keep her ears covered. Muffling the sound of everything around her was uncomfortable, but losing her ears to frostbite would be more uncomfortable. The docks were in the upper levels of the city, the Pillars as she’d heard it called, but not quite as high as the high houses. Those structures towered up above her, looking down both figuratively and literally.
Up here, ladies in fine clothes walked and chattered with one another and men strode with purpose. What that purpose was, Nihka wasn’t sure. She had her own. The frills on their clothes, both the men and the women, Nihka mused were probably for trapping heat. In weather like this, heavy skirts and bustles and multi layered jackets were not merely fashionable, but a necessity to survival.
Nihka wasn’t fond of how much she had to bundle up when she visited. She almost, almost missed the fire crystal... but that was a long time ago, in a story that has long since ended. Such magical protection wasn’t feasible for the whole of a population.
Around the path, to her right, she walked by the Jeweled Crozier. The marketplace, up with the nobles. She had heard that some of the merchants would refuse to even sell to those on the lower levels. When they did, sometimes they might charge more. Charging more to those who had less money. It made no sense to her.
Nihka did her best to avoid notice as she walked through the city. She wasn’t a native, miqo’te were rare here, but she also didn’t look like a rich adventurer. People might take her for some poor cat venturing up too high in the city, or a poor adventurer (which was technically the truth and far preferable). Down in the Foundation she was marginally more comfortable. There were more adventurers about and more working class citizens of the Holy See; it was easier to blend in.
The smell of the Skysteel Manufactory touched her nostrils, and made her smile a little. Knowledge, innovation, progress. That it was science in the name of war soured her opinion slightly. By the time she got to the Brume her mood was dark. By the time she got to the Brume, her thoughts had turned to Eva.
What was she going to do about Eva?
The woman had threatened an old man with a bomb, and could have killed them all when she tried to throw a grenade under a door. Future work would need to be done as far, far away from the known heretic and violent anarchist as possible, despite the fact that the woman’s stated goal was certainly beneficial to all.
Eva suspected that someone was attempting to summon a primal in the image of a dead dragon. Since that particularly dramatic reveal, Nihka had done some research and learned something frightening.
It was feasible.
What literature she could find referred to them as eikons, rather than primals, and was spotty at best. However, rumors abounded of a group of moogles summoning their own primal in the Shroud which defied all logic since there was no pre-existing precedent for it. With a little work, Nihka was able to compile a list of rumored primals that the Warrior of Light was said to have fought. A long dead saint, a dark rider, a chittering insect, among others.
While many were the gods of various beast tribes, those that weren’t stood out to her. They were ideals, concepts, old icons from long ago. They represented hope for their people, and somehow had manifested just like the well-known primals that plagued Eorzea. They drew form from the hopes and dreams of those who worshiped them. They were very similar to a ragged old statue in a broken room in the Brume of a long dead dragon.
In her research, Nihka decided on some terminology of her own. An eikon was a summoned god, a being of aether that drew from the emotions and adulation of a people. A primal was a being, an eikon, that represented a primal force of nature: fire, earth, air, water. She wanted to get her hands on the book that Eva referenced, it could confirm or refute her theories, but until then she had to work with what she knew.
Lost in her own thoughts, she went down the stairs, down the ramps, into the Brume, and made her way towards the meeting place of the cult of drilltooth. Here, it was dangerous, homeless and destitute people huddled around whatever source of warmth they could find. Hopefully, the people in the broken down place would be willing to hear her out. She had medicine, she wanted to help. She knew what it was like to be sick and cold, to be alone, hungry, to be homeless. She knew what it was like to have lost everything.
Briefly, she thought about apologizing for Eva. No, at this point, she didn’t want to be associated with the woman at all. She did this for the people, not for her.
With luck, she might convince the preacher, the leader of the cult, to look into the source of his funding. Even if he was unwilling to talk, at least the medicine would help make their lives a little easier.
Nihka was uncertain how old the docks actually were. In fact, despite their apparent age, she assumed a great deal of this grand city had been rebuilt several times over, over the centuries of war. Perhaps the large platform had originally been built for black chocobos, and only been repurposed for airships recently. All told, it didn’t matter, and her musings drifted away as the ship docked and she set foot on solid ground.
Wind whipped at the scarf she had tied over her hair, frigid enough that she had to keep her ears covered. Muffling the sound of everything around her was uncomfortable, but losing her ears to frostbite would be more uncomfortable. The docks were in the upper levels of the city, the Pillars as she’d heard it called, but not quite as high as the high houses. Those structures towered up above her, looking down both figuratively and literally.
Up here, ladies in fine clothes walked and chattered with one another and men strode with purpose. What that purpose was, Nihka wasn’t sure. She had her own. The frills on their clothes, both the men and the women, Nihka mused were probably for trapping heat. In weather like this, heavy skirts and bustles and multi layered jackets were not merely fashionable, but a necessity to survival.
Nihka wasn’t fond of how much she had to bundle up when she visited. She almost, almost missed the fire crystal... but that was a long time ago, in a story that has long since ended. Such magical protection wasn’t feasible for the whole of a population.
Around the path, to her right, she walked by the Jeweled Crozier. The marketplace, up with the nobles. She had heard that some of the merchants would refuse to even sell to those on the lower levels. When they did, sometimes they might charge more. Charging more to those who had less money. It made no sense to her.
Nihka did her best to avoid notice as she walked through the city. She wasn’t a native, miqo’te were rare here, but she also didn’t look like a rich adventurer. People might take her for some poor cat venturing up too high in the city, or a poor adventurer (which was technically the truth and far preferable). Down in the Foundation she was marginally more comfortable. There were more adventurers about and more working class citizens of the Holy See; it was easier to blend in.
The smell of the Skysteel Manufactory touched her nostrils, and made her smile a little. Knowledge, innovation, progress. That it was science in the name of war soured her opinion slightly. By the time she got to the Brume her mood was dark. By the time she got to the Brume, her thoughts had turned to Eva.
What was she going to do about Eva?
The woman had threatened an old man with a bomb, and could have killed them all when she tried to throw a grenade under a door. Future work would need to be done as far, far away from the known heretic and violent anarchist as possible, despite the fact that the woman’s stated goal was certainly beneficial to all.
Eva suspected that someone was attempting to summon a primal in the image of a dead dragon. Since that particularly dramatic reveal, Nihka had done some research and learned something frightening.
It was feasible.
What literature she could find referred to them as eikons, rather than primals, and was spotty at best. However, rumors abounded of a group of moogles summoning their own primal in the Shroud which defied all logic since there was no pre-existing precedent for it. With a little work, Nihka was able to compile a list of rumored primals that the Warrior of Light was said to have fought. A long dead saint, a dark rider, a chittering insect, among others.
While many were the gods of various beast tribes, those that weren’t stood out to her. They were ideals, concepts, old icons from long ago. They represented hope for their people, and somehow had manifested just like the well-known primals that plagued Eorzea. They drew form from the hopes and dreams of those who worshiped them. They were very similar to a ragged old statue in a broken room in the Brume of a long dead dragon.
In her research, Nihka decided on some terminology of her own. An eikon was a summoned god, a being of aether that drew from the emotions and adulation of a people. A primal was a being, an eikon, that represented a primal force of nature: fire, earth, air, water. She wanted to get her hands on the book that Eva referenced, it could confirm or refute her theories, but until then she had to work with what she knew.
Lost in her own thoughts, she went down the stairs, down the ramps, into the Brume, and made her way towards the meeting place of the cult of drilltooth. Here, it was dangerous, homeless and destitute people huddled around whatever source of warmth they could find. Hopefully, the people in the broken down place would be willing to hear her out. She had medicine, she wanted to help. She knew what it was like to be sick and cold, to be alone, hungry, to be homeless. She knew what it was like to have lost everything.
Briefly, she thought about apologizing for Eva. No, at this point, she didn’t want to be associated with the woman at all. She did this for the people, not for her.
With luck, she might convince the preacher, the leader of the cult, to look into the source of his funding. Even if he was unwilling to talk, at least the medicine would help make their lives a little easier.