[IC Story] Always Call for Backup...
… unless you ARE the backup. Then you’re just screwed.
Mood Music: “Nara†by E.S. Posthumous & “Secrets†by One Republic
Blessed Nymeia sure could be a bitch some times. Nefzen realized she should have been expecting it. Things had been going well for so long, there needed to be balance. Now here she was sitting on the ledge of the Aftcastle trying to bait her hook one handed.Â
Two days ago she’d been warned. Kawa hitting the same spot on her arm, twice no less, in their sparring session after the Seaside Tavern had closed had been no accident. Nymeia’s warning, Nefzen was sure of it. Elza meeting them before the Grindstone, Sana showing up out of the blue… It was all duplicated the following day at The Drunken Moogle.Â
It took a few tries, and more than a few uttered curses, but at last the bait was wrapped around the hook. Nefzen adjusted her position in the sun-warmed stone before lifting the fishing pole with her right hand. It was awkward to say the least. Not only was she casting the line out one handed but doing it while trying not to jostle the splinted left arm still in the sling hanging from around her neck was tricky. Tricky, but doable. With a bit of finagling the Keeper managed to steady the base of the pole with her left hand fingers while supporting the weight of the pole with her right. The only thing left to do now was to wait.Â
Many who didn’t know her well typically expected the unusually sociable Keeper to have a hard time with the waiting. Nefzen never understood why anyone had trouble with it. Sitting for hours awaiting prey was easy. All you had to do was just relax and let a portion of your thoughts wander where they will. Irritatingly hers kept going back to the previous day.Â
Her first inkling that The Weaver had shifted her shuttle was getting the message from Erah'sae that he was going to be late meeting up at The Moogle, if he made it at all. Giving Meela bad news made Nefzen’s stomach tie in knots. Idiot brothers.Â
Meeting Elza on the docks was her next warning. It was always so nice to see the young Keeper. Sometimes being around her made Nef wonder what would it have been like to have a younger sister. The two of them made their way to the Moogle without too much fuss. It was great seeing everyone there. Poor Azrian was alone behind the counter at first. Meela was there, as was Y'ladri, Bex'li and Ojene, as well as a few people Nefzen didn’t recognize. Questions about her arm in the sling abounded. Answers to those segued into a retelling of the after Grindstone beach party Elza has invited the Zhwan siblings to.Â
A musician started up, he was good too. Mez from the Gilded Pony show even danced during the song. Nef had just sat down to talk to Ojene, who was sporting her own injury, albeit an old one, when Nefzen’s linkpearl went off in her ear.Â
Everything went downhill from there.Â
The tugging on the fishing line brought Nefzen’s mind back to the present. Resisting the urge to yank on the line immediately, she shifted her grip and waited until the real struggle began. Once the line started to play out she gave the pole a sharp but controlled yank, setting the hook. Bracing the bottom of the pole between her feet she struggled to wind the reel and bring in her catch. It was slow work and allowed her thoughts to drift back once more.Â
Two fellows from the Guild had called her in on a job they were working. “It shouldn’t take long†they said. “There are only two of them.†Two thieves who had been plaguing the docks for weeks now. Making off with small portions of cargo as it was coming off the ships. One crate here and there added up fast and the Code had to be enforced. The pair of Rogues had tracked the culprits to their hideout and wanted some backup when they went to deal with the thieves. Who better than one of their newer recruits?
A curse slipped past Nefzen’s lips when the slippery fish’s thrashing nearly made her fishing pole plunge into the water below. At least her left had wasn’t completely useless. Somehow she managed to pin the thing down and retrieve her hook from its mouth before letting it slip from her fingers and plung where it had tried to send her pole. It’s not like she could cook it, and until her arm healed fully there would be no raw preparation either. Sighing she went about the task of re-baiting her hook.
So far Nefzen had managed to avoid the senior Rogues to give her report. Once the sun went down she was sure that someone would be hunting her down. Honestly there wasn’t much to tell that the other two wouldn’t have reported already. The three of them went in… Only to find that the supposed pair of thieves were actually apart of a larger gang who had always operated in pairs and dressed the same to hide their numbers. Successfully too! The three Rogues had gone in expecting two enemies only to be faced with ten.Â
This time casting the fishing line made Nefzen twist… wrong. The sharp pain in her hip nearly made her drop her pole. Maybe she should have let Elza take a look at her other injuries. Not that a bad bruise was much of an injury to begin with. Nef bit her lip until the pain faded enough to breathe again. When her eyes were able to focus again she found that the cast had made it to the water just fine. Once more she settled in for the long wait.Â
Looking back, Nef wasn’t completely sure just how many were in the gang. They were all bleedin dressed the same.  Some damn near looked like twins. Though any fewer and the three rogues would have made it out with barely a scratch. As it was….
It had been a nasty fight. The three Rogues might have gotten the initial drop, but the sudden swell in numbers made it turn ugly fast. The gang’s tendency to stack the crates around the hideout was most definitely a blessing straight from Nymeia, cutting down how many opponents could come at them at a time.Â
While most of it was a blur, parts of the fight still shown with crystal clarity in Nefzen’s memories.Â
Some would say it had been chance, but Nef knew that her seeing the bastard trying to sneak up behind one of the other Rogues had been fated. She’s taken the blow, earning the shiner around her right eye, and allowing her the opportunity to kneel down with a spin and slice his femoral artery open.Â
Moments later a squirrely bastard drop kicked her into a stack of crates. The feeling of the wood digging into her hip still echoed if she sat or twisted wrong.
The worst had been near the end of the fight. She had used her left dagger to block a downward sword thrust, allowing her right to slash across the belly of her attacker when the pain flared in her upraised arm. Positioned like she was, a midlander had maneuvered into her blindspot. Thank the goddess he’s only had a stave and not a bladed weapon. Pain or no she hadn’t stopped, letting the momentum from her slash and the blow to flow into a spin. He’d been too far to stab, but at that distance the thrown dagger hit home with deadly accuracy.Â
The worst of it was that she couldn’t be sure they had caught all of the culprits. A nagging feeling in her gut made her think one or two might have slipped away during the brawl.Â
For a second time something tugged at her line. Patience. Bite. Snag. Reel.
She couldn’t explain the uneasy feeling that grew as she reeled the line in, but when Nefzen saw the fish that finally came over the ledge and into her lap she new. Those eyes, that fin pattern…
….. It was the same fish.
… unless you ARE the backup. Then you’re just screwed.
Mood Music: “Nara†by E.S. Posthumous & “Secrets†by One Republic
Blessed Nymeia sure could be a bitch some times. Nefzen realized she should have been expecting it. Things had been going well for so long, there needed to be balance. Now here she was sitting on the ledge of the Aftcastle trying to bait her hook one handed.Â
Two days ago she’d been warned. Kawa hitting the same spot on her arm, twice no less, in their sparring session after the Seaside Tavern had closed had been no accident. Nymeia’s warning, Nefzen was sure of it. Elza meeting them before the Grindstone, Sana showing up out of the blue… It was all duplicated the following day at The Drunken Moogle.Â
It took a few tries, and more than a few uttered curses, but at last the bait was wrapped around the hook. Nefzen adjusted her position in the sun-warmed stone before lifting the fishing pole with her right hand. It was awkward to say the least. Not only was she casting the line out one handed but doing it while trying not to jostle the splinted left arm still in the sling hanging from around her neck was tricky. Tricky, but doable. With a bit of finagling the Keeper managed to steady the base of the pole with her left hand fingers while supporting the weight of the pole with her right. The only thing left to do now was to wait.Â
Many who didn’t know her well typically expected the unusually sociable Keeper to have a hard time with the waiting. Nefzen never understood why anyone had trouble with it. Sitting for hours awaiting prey was easy. All you had to do was just relax and let a portion of your thoughts wander where they will. Irritatingly hers kept going back to the previous day.Â
Her first inkling that The Weaver had shifted her shuttle was getting the message from Erah'sae that he was going to be late meeting up at The Moogle, if he made it at all. Giving Meela bad news made Nefzen’s stomach tie in knots. Idiot brothers.Â
Meeting Elza on the docks was her next warning. It was always so nice to see the young Keeper. Sometimes being around her made Nef wonder what would it have been like to have a younger sister. The two of them made their way to the Moogle without too much fuss. It was great seeing everyone there. Poor Azrian was alone behind the counter at first. Meela was there, as was Y'ladri, Bex'li and Ojene, as well as a few people Nefzen didn’t recognize. Questions about her arm in the sling abounded. Answers to those segued into a retelling of the after Grindstone beach party Elza has invited the Zhwan siblings to.Â
A musician started up, he was good too. Mez from the Gilded Pony show even danced during the song. Nef had just sat down to talk to Ojene, who was sporting her own injury, albeit an old one, when Nefzen’s linkpearl went off in her ear.Â
Everything went downhill from there.Â
The tugging on the fishing line brought Nefzen’s mind back to the present. Resisting the urge to yank on the line immediately, she shifted her grip and waited until the real struggle began. Once the line started to play out she gave the pole a sharp but controlled yank, setting the hook. Bracing the bottom of the pole between her feet she struggled to wind the reel and bring in her catch. It was slow work and allowed her thoughts to drift back once more.Â
Two fellows from the Guild had called her in on a job they were working. “It shouldn’t take long†they said. “There are only two of them.†Two thieves who had been plaguing the docks for weeks now. Making off with small portions of cargo as it was coming off the ships. One crate here and there added up fast and the Code had to be enforced. The pair of Rogues had tracked the culprits to their hideout and wanted some backup when they went to deal with the thieves. Who better than one of their newer recruits?
A curse slipped past Nefzen’s lips when the slippery fish’s thrashing nearly made her fishing pole plunge into the water below. At least her left had wasn’t completely useless. Somehow she managed to pin the thing down and retrieve her hook from its mouth before letting it slip from her fingers and plung where it had tried to send her pole. It’s not like she could cook it, and until her arm healed fully there would be no raw preparation either. Sighing she went about the task of re-baiting her hook.
So far Nefzen had managed to avoid the senior Rogues to give her report. Once the sun went down she was sure that someone would be hunting her down. Honestly there wasn’t much to tell that the other two wouldn’t have reported already. The three of them went in… Only to find that the supposed pair of thieves were actually apart of a larger gang who had always operated in pairs and dressed the same to hide their numbers. Successfully too! The three Rogues had gone in expecting two enemies only to be faced with ten.Â
This time casting the fishing line made Nefzen twist… wrong. The sharp pain in her hip nearly made her drop her pole. Maybe she should have let Elza take a look at her other injuries. Not that a bad bruise was much of an injury to begin with. Nef bit her lip until the pain faded enough to breathe again. When her eyes were able to focus again she found that the cast had made it to the water just fine. Once more she settled in for the long wait.Â
Looking back, Nef wasn’t completely sure just how many were in the gang. They were all bleedin dressed the same.  Some damn near looked like twins. Though any fewer and the three rogues would have made it out with barely a scratch. As it was….
It had been a nasty fight. The three Rogues might have gotten the initial drop, but the sudden swell in numbers made it turn ugly fast. The gang’s tendency to stack the crates around the hideout was most definitely a blessing straight from Nymeia, cutting down how many opponents could come at them at a time.Â
While most of it was a blur, parts of the fight still shown with crystal clarity in Nefzen’s memories.Â
Some would say it had been chance, but Nef knew that her seeing the bastard trying to sneak up behind one of the other Rogues had been fated. She’s taken the blow, earning the shiner around her right eye, and allowing her the opportunity to kneel down with a spin and slice his femoral artery open.Â
Moments later a squirrely bastard drop kicked her into a stack of crates. The feeling of the wood digging into her hip still echoed if she sat or twisted wrong.
The worst had been near the end of the fight. She had used her left dagger to block a downward sword thrust, allowing her right to slash across the belly of her attacker when the pain flared in her upraised arm. Positioned like she was, a midlander had maneuvered into her blindspot. Thank the goddess he’s only had a stave and not a bladed weapon. Pain or no she hadn’t stopped, letting the momentum from her slash and the blow to flow into a spin. He’d been too far to stab, but at that distance the thrown dagger hit home with deadly accuracy.Â
The worst of it was that she couldn’t be sure they had caught all of the culprits. A nagging feeling in her gut made her think one or two might have slipped away during the brawl.Â
For a second time something tugged at her line. Patience. Bite. Snag. Reel.
She couldn’t explain the uneasy feeling that grew as she reeled the line in, but when Nefzen saw the fish that finally came over the ledge and into her lap she new. Those eyes, that fin pattern…
….. It was the same fish.