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The Business of Saving Lives

“Just had another come in, put them in the office, it’s the only space left…”

“Same symptoms. Another case confirmed…”

“Running low on supplies. Gatherers are ill. We’ll be out before dark.”

“Can’t spare anyone, Lore. I’m sorry.”

The chatter of the Limsan clinic joined the other voices in her mind, all culminating into one terrifying conclusion: this plague was more than anyone had been prepared for, and at least for now, they had no way of stopping it.

“It’s alright, Cici. I’ll handle things here. Do what you can for them.”

The pearl clicked off as the whimper of a child broke the relative silence. Just last morning the orphanage had been full of life, the laughter of the young permeating every corner. Today, however, the sleeping quarters was filled with naught but moans of pain and the occasional wretching. Even the healthy children, safely sequestered, kept to quiet activities in solemn worry for their adopted siblings.

Lorelei flitted from bed to bed, a conservative hold on the medicine they so desperately needed. There wasn’t enough, and little hope of obtaining more, and the guilt weighed heavily on the little Mender as she doled out half doses well past their due time with a forced smile on her lips and a soft caress of a too-small brow. She spoke kind words where she could: little stories of encouragement to bring a sleepy grin to a little face lined with more pain than it should ever have to endure. Her stomach turned with every lie she fed them.

The storyteller had been a godsend, weaving tales that turned youthful eyes bright once more, if only for a few moments. She fed them while he spoke, slipping broth between the lips of those too weak to do more than swallow the meager offering. Hour by hour, she watched the deterioration of those she loved so dearly. Hour by hour, her faith began to deteriorate as well.

One patient in particular caused her the greatest worry: an older elezen girl who’d seen nearly eight summers. She’d been the first to fall ill when the flowers invaded, so weak that when she woke it was only to rid her stomach of anything Lorelei had tried to introduce into it. The Mender sat on the side of the bed, letting gentle fingers curl over a sweat-dampened cheek. They had been together a long time, these two, a memory of the younger tossing flower petals into the air on her wedding day coming to mind with bittersweet clarity.

That’s when she noticed the lines.

Thick, black veins had begun to creep along the girl’s face. They stemmed from eyes – from lips, an invasive decimation of what was once beautiful. Also surprising was the deep green irises that burned back into her own, awake and aware as a little hand wrapped itself around her wrist.

“I can hear Them.”

There was a pause as the Mender’s mind sought to understand the words, to make sense of that which could not be understood. Her hand came to rest over that of her beloved child, a squeeze given to the frail bones beneath as blue eyes watered with unshed tears.

“They are singing…to accept….singing…it will stop.”

The words were broken by ragged, awful gasps. The pulse beneath Lorelei’s carefully placed thumb beat furiously and erratic. She was dying. This child was dying, moments away from losing the potential promised her by a lifetime. The words left her lips before she could think – could consider the ramifications of what she asked. It only mattered that this life be saved.

“Accept.” She breathed, her hand squeezing as if it were her life that hung on the promise of a single word. “Accept. Do it, now. Save your life, Anise, and I promise I will find a way to save your soul.”

To be continued…

@the-faceless-ffxiv

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Like Home

Those sweet, indistinct whispers had been nothing but music to Faelon’s ears. He knew Them. Perhaps not in an intimate sense, but he knew entities similar to Them, and the voidsent was quite at home with such things. It had been a very long time since he’d lived in the dark embrace of the void, but he knew such places well. He knew the in betweens. He knew the things that dwelled there. He had eaten some of those things, but They were like a sweet and kind grandparent to Faelon, if one could imagine the voidsent ever caring for such things. Of course he had accepted, though there wasn’t much They could offer to tempt him. He was a creature without temptation, who instead peddled it to others. Hapless sorts like Ulfarr Reddwing, who knew not their place in the world and struggled to find it. Wishes were dangerous things, and those that meddled with them tended to find ill fates, and Faelon? Faelon adored watching their struggles, like a cat playing with it’s food. What a delight it was to participate in such ambitious discord, and even more to so soon after reuniting with the aforementioned highlander, have him bid a wish of the old voidkin! The foolishness of it all was delicious to Faelon, and whilst only half was ‘granted’ of Ulfarr’s original request, the voidkin knew well that if They did not wish to be seen, then They would not. Still, he seemingly gave Ulfarr what he wanted. He saw the fog, and dark plains that They granted, and in return Faelon had supped on the torture of the other places Ulfarr had seen, sensing the turmoil it had caused. Turmoil he intended to witness for as long as possible. Ulfarr should have known that inviting Faelon back to such an intimate place by making such a wish would mean the little voidkin would stick around, and make himself comfortable. Comfortable meant raiding the cupboard of sweets. Comfortable meant lounging about in the form of a cat, as if the highlander had aquired a new pet, though if anything Ulfarr was the pet in this relationship. He was here to stay. @anunlikelyknight @the-faceless-ffxiv

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a family portrait

@the-faceless-ffxiv @servaelynrillek @faelonsinnet

It was a wish made for no rational reason. He wanted affirmation, he wanted Mother Father to be close, because he feared he wasn’t good enough. Ulfarr, the Smiling Dog was a deeply pitiable and insecure man who only wished to be loved, but if that was impossible he’d make others miserable. He’d make them suffer. It was an insanity that gripped him as he knew he was as meaningful as a speck of dust.

So he made the wish to Faelon Sinnett. “Let me see Them. Let me speak to Them.” Except speaking was pointless as he was told, but seeing? Well, such a thing could be ‘done’. The Wishmaker was always sneaky. Ulfarr knelt in front of Faelon so his request could be fulfilled. There was just that one rather huge caveat. To see Them he had to see through the planes and then between to get to them. And what he saw was unpleasant, mangled forms that made senseless shapes that were beyond comprehension. Violence, horror, emptiness. Some were familiar. So terrifyingly familiar as he once let himself be taken by the Void out of a warped sense of love and wanting to belong. When he got through them to the plane between where the whispers lived…there was a fog set against pitch black shadows that swirled and billowed. A brief sense of comfort washed over him, this place was quiet, it was muted almost peaceful. Then the anger, horror and fear came. What had he done? He realized he was not seeing Them. In that moment he was pulled back. Back out the way he came past all the clawing monsters of the deep and the warped planes they lived in. Back to his home in front of Faelon with the au ra, Ascalon beside him. Standing up he shakily excused himself to be alone.

Pushing open the door to the basement, he went around the counter of his workspace to a bucket and vomited. The air felt like it was pressing in on him, but he couldn’t tell if it was the voices or his own paranoia. Did he anger them? Did they hate him? He let out a choke of a sob. His hands pulled up, fingers raking down the sides of his face. No words, no questions. Just an anxiety that started to choke him. Making thoughts difficult, it made him curl up. Shaking as he wondered if he would die cold and empty to the things between spaces, having achieved nothing and meaning even less. What was his worth? His own mortality was felt keenly and as that realization dawned on him he laughed. “I threw it away!” He cried, “I threw away all that power, that monstrous form! To become like thiiiis.” The highlander hissed out. How could he fight or struggle when he was just a pathetic weak man. “I should’ve stayed a beast. But I’m just this.” His head ducked down to press to his knees as he sat there. Wallowing in self-pity as he knew he was too scared to even try to go back to what he was. He had played at being good for so long he had friends now. Friends, family who wouldn’t want this of him. There has to be another way, he thought, a way to be what he truly was without losing everything. It was then he heard a melodic titter behind him and he turned his head to see the wishmaker.

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A Storm is Coming - {Event Information}

{Below, We would like to lay some groundwork for the Faceless event. Please forgive some of the vagueness and understand that it is necessary for development and for the implementation of ideas that may need to fluctuate based on response and  participation in certain aspects of this story line.

||The Faceless||

An unknown entity of considerable power and age that is not of this world (or any known world, for that matter) but rather a being that is interspersed between the seams of reality. They touch the Void, the Abyss and Eternal Oblivion all at once. They are not Voidsent, but They have spoken with them. They are not Ascians, but They can admire their schemes.

||What Do They Want?||

The Faceless have seen the destruction of many worlds and have played Their part in the downfall of several civilizations throughout time and existence. The panic and disorder that reigns in times of war, the pain and the suffering feed Them - give Them life. They seek out Their chosen ‘Children’ in an attempt to bring about Their ‘Reckoning’ - a world remade in Their image, one of chaos, bloodshed and the inevitable end of everything good and pure.The last time this was attempted, They failed and Their hold on that world was severed. They were sent careening into the furthest depths of nothingness - flung so far that They could not even recall Their name. They spent a millennia in this darkness before They heard the Children Singing (war, sorrow, violence, upheaval and rebellion), a symphony of suffering so utterly enticing that They couldn’t help but draw near.

||Do We Weep or do We Rejoice?||

The Faceless use very distinct and purposeful wording when They speak to individuals, as some have noticed in the theme of whispers that have been sent. We Weep is indicative of the Faceless viewing something as sorrowful - which to Them means anyone who will oppose Them or stand in the way of Their Reckoning.

We Rejoice is used when They have seen something or someone that brings Them pride  - which usually means that person is not on the ‘hero’ end of the spectrum. There are some who accept Their offers out of necessity, threat or heartbreaking hopelessness. They don’t care how the Children come to Them - only that they do.

We Wait indicates They are doing just that - waiting to see if They will Weep or Rejoice. It is important to note that in Their eyes if you aren’t with Them - you are against Them.

||What comes next?||

The Faceless want Their Reckoning. Very soon the time to choose sides will come to a head and the Faceless will begin to present gifts to Their disobedient Children while Their Chosen Lambs will remain safe and untouched. (Tip: They aren’t going to be nice gifts.)

||The Mark||

Those who side with the Faceless will receive a Mark somewhere on their character’s body (which will appear this coming Friday, May 4th). This archaic design is Theirs and through it They will be able to communicate to all of Their Chosen  and better See them.

These markings cannot be removed or purged from their bearers once they have taken appearance. They are like a tattoo or a brand - you can lick ‘em, but they’re not coming off (at least, for now). Those who choose the Mark do so of their own free will and by no other methods or implementations will they get one. The bearer of this Mark can decide where it appears, though keep in mind that the White Hats will catch on quickly! Be sneaky, Our Children.

What does this mark mean?: It means you are with the Faceless and willing to obey Their requests and commandments. You are one of Their Chosen Children and will be immune from the nice little gifts They will be giving Their other Children.

Does this Mark mean my character can’t have a change of heart?: Absolutely not! It will be fairly easy to resist Their call in the beginning (or rather, at the first ‘turning point’ for your character after they received the Mark). But eventually the Mark will start to inflict pain, nightmares, whispering voices, madness and hallucinations. Everyone breaks under torture, it just depends how long they can outlast and outwit it before it consumes them. Some people cannot take the mental afflictions (nightmares, internal screaming, intensified whispers and violent urges) and others can’t take they physical pain (burning in your veins, throbbing headaches, ghostly pain in your limbs and appendages. You know, fun stuff). This will be a slow descent into madness and will by no means happen overnight! They would want your character to feel it consume them slowly. Such loving parents.

Can my character accept the Mark later?: Yes! At any time during this event, your character can jump ship and join the Rejoicers. If you do decide to do this, please let Us know via private message here on Tumblr as We will need to keep track for later plot implementation. If We do not know you’re Rejoicing, We may miss you!

Will someone who is not with the Faceless have a way to detect this Mark?: Yes! Though, in the beginning, only if one is shown the Mark will they know. But as the Faceless’ power builds, it will become more and more difficult for the Marked to shield or hide its ‘wrongness’ from those gifted with reading Aetheric currents or those who posses devices that do.    

For those who Rejoice and will take the Faceless’ mark, please send us a message with ‘We Rejoice’ here on Tumblr so that We can add you to Our list. (We do love Our lists.)

For those who will remain neutral or outright refuse Their offer, We thank you kindly for being Our White/Beige Hats and look forward to things to come!

As always, if you have questions or have any ideas you would like to run past Us, We are here to assist!

Humbly Yours in Haunting,

We the Faceless}

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Professor’s Notes: Woops

So one morning I was at my school contemplating the matter of these unknown whispers and wondering how it was they were able to know so much about us. So I theorized that perhaps it was perhaps through the collective unconscious (A theory on the sum total of life being subconsciously connected) A theory I’d been testing through various dream manipulations and examinations and psychic experiments. Using techniques I’d read about I attempted to tap into this network of thoughts only to discover something looking back at me. I caught a peak. It was large. Far larger than I could see with my naked eye. Roots or threads connecting through everything. What  followed was the image fading, leaving only what I could only surmise was psychokenetic fog through which the voices spoke to me.  They whispered these words: “Are you watching Us, little spider?” “Do you like what you see? We have allowed so few to glimpse even a piece of Our glory. You have been honored.” “You will tell them, won’t you? Tell the Children the grasp and spanse of what We have already touched? Tell them. Be Our Messenger. Bring Our despair.” “We admire how they march onward even unto death.” “We will Weep for them for eternity.”

Flattered and alarmed, I attempted to reply but only found myself unconscious and later possibly on fire. I attempted to doodle what I could POSSIBLY translate into visual representation. This you will find is the most accurate representation of what I’ve seen. Overall I’d say it was a positive learning experience. Any attempt to peer into the unknown and walk away sane is a healthy venture. Professor Kaisin Ozerov

@the-faceless-ffxiv

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SGC: Journal Entry #2

Firstly we aren’t going to discuss the fact that my ex-husband is an idiot. I realize he has ‘safeties in place’ that’s fantastic. I understand that ‘no one was put at risk’ that’s fine. What I don’t understand is why you’d tempt these ‘things’ by looking for them. I’m grateful that Rosa’s a wonderful healer, Nhamma, I’m so grateful to have her back in my life. I have my sister back. I have support that I’ve lost during my months of learning and well, other things. She got Kaisin back on his feet and at some point I want to talk to him and see what he’s found while on his little journey of self-explosion.

It’s like self-exploration but with explosions.

That aside the Clinic saw more people, and as much as I’m trying to get to the point that these ‘things’ are bad, and for people to not listen to them, I have this gut feeling that they aren’t going to listen. I have the feeling that no matter what I put forth, they are going to be tempted by the promise of power and or protection, whatever these bastards have put in their head.

Life is supposed to be hard. It is supposed to be unforgiving at points because it makes you stronger. It makes you find who your true friends are, know when there’s a situation you -have- to handle alone, and most of all, it makes you treasure every good moment, however small. That’s what life is about, but always there will be people who want to take the easy way out.

There’s also a man, Ulfarr, he put his Lord’s life on the line by accepting their gift, their shared connection through the Aether, I couldn’t do anything. I am a ‘Doctor’ yes, but that’s only because if you call yourself a ‘shaman’ people start giving you weird looks this side of the world. They expect you to dress in furs, talk in mystic nonsense, so on and so forth. My call is to the power within me, to elements and the Aether around me. Rosa, Synne and Vie took care of everything up there, trying to get the unconscious Lord to stir and they did. Ulfarr said he had reasons for doing what he did…but I still want to beat the shit out of him, just once. Either way I hope Lord Rillek recovers well, I wish I could do more for his health.

Around me I’m blessed by people with knowledge greater than my own. This Clinic has been a heaven sent miracle some days and a battle ground on others. There’s a lot to catch up on today and I’ll take it a step at a time, I don’t want to end up falling asleep in my kitchen from exhaustion like I did last night. I should bake Kaito a cake to say I’m sorry. Either way, my mind right now goes to the heavens.

Nhamma, give me the strength to save these ones who fall to the whispers, give me the knowledge to bring them back from the brink of the madness I have a gut feeling will happen. But most of all, give me the fire and rage to burn these assholes when they show their faces. I’m not Kaisin, I don’t have the means to protect myself enough to go searching for them, but be damned sure, the moment they act, I’m going to put them through hellfire.

Mentions: @rhotano-rose II @ramensaucerp II @synne-tove II @mischiefs-mistress II @servaelynrillek II @anunlikelyknight II @the-faceless-ffxiv II @gigantpole

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Backlash

A walk. That's what Vaelyn had wanted – just his daily, easygoing walk to keep some fitness up in his constant state of illness. It had been suggested running practice was needed, but the thought hardly thrilled him, and it hadn't remotely been implemented as of yet, so the stubborn Elezen wasn't doing it. Just a calm, easy walk with his own thoughts, that's all he had wanted. It started off that way, at the very least, and as he made his way around the Lavender Beds, he mentally catalogued all the things that he needed to do. Speak with Ivory in regards to his feud with Ulfarr. He'd need to speak to Clayton soon as well, to appraise him of these whispers that haunted he, and many others. He wished to speak with Professor Ozerov, though with so many affected and demanding each other's attention, a private session might be difficult to come by. While he pondered how to handle these things and more, pleased with the solitude of his little meander around familiar, and often safe grounds, the whispering still sat at the back of his mind, likened to a dull throbbing but also possessed of a quiet uttering that refused to cease, the words too quiet and overlain with too many voices to make out at the moment. Perhaps that was Vaelyn's own doing, as he made a concious effort to suppress and ignore it. He wasn't paying enough attention to know what the voices were saying. It wasn't necessarily the best tactic, but it was all he could do for now. He had refused to give the voices an answer, and he had heard the call over the linkshell not to answer them in any manner what-so-ever. It was a curious state of affairs, stressful certainly, but interesting in it's own way. What had made him a target? What had made any of them a target? He pondered these things as he walked. It was about halfway through his circuit that it struck him, like a jolt of electricity that shook him to the bones, and sent his whole body a-tremble. It was worse than that still though, as the Elezen clutched at his chest and stumbled before falling all together. His glasses, so preciously kept safe on a chain Clayton had given him, managed to crack against a stone in the path, one of the lenses shattering. His breath quickened, and an unsettling sense of panic kicked in, for Vaelyn instinctively knew what this was, and it was entirely out of order for it to be happening at all. Some years past, Ulfarr had been bound by Vaelyn, to Vaelyn, for reasons that remained between them, and few others, and now the Elezen was recieving an impossible backlash across it. Backlash that under no circumstances should be happening. His whole body felt like fire, and indeed the Lord was burning up with a fever now, his breath becoming ragged as he felt a tightness in his throat. He couldn't see well enough for his gaze to become unfocused, for without the benefit of those spectacles, all Vaelyn could make out was a bleed of colours that at the moment seemed dull, and faded. As he lay there, he tried desperately to think of what could have caused this, but there were no answers to be found, and it was becoming difficult to think clearly as the roaring pulse in his ears was steadily overwhelmed by the indistinct whispering that just moments before had been imprisoned at the back of his mind now took the opportunity to creep back into the foreground. We can save you the pain and grief of loss. He ignored the voices as best he could, a trembling hand reaching up to fumble at and activate any of his pearls – all of them incidentally. Let Us in. We will help you. Vaelyn's eyes clenched shut tightly, and over those pearls a weak voice cried out for help, calling the names of those close to him, and those meant to protect him: Clayton, Ulfarr, Ivory. Calling for help. It was all he could manage before the darkness claimed him and he lapsed into unconciousness. Still, the voices whispered. @the-faceless-ffxiv @crooked-tarot-rp @anunlikelyknight

#the faceless #vaelyn rillek

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IC Flyers - The Faceless

These pamphlets and flyers are being spread out across the cities and settlements of Aldenard, Othard and Ilsabard, handed out by those shouting on street corners and hung up along message boards and alleyways. The flyers are unsigned, simple parchment easily the size of a wanted poster.

Have you heard voices promising your desires in exchange for submission?

Have you received threats that those you love cannot be protected if you do not submit?

Have you been presented details about yourself that no one else should know when given these shadowy offers?

If you have been hearing these faceless whispers, do not accept or reject ANY offers! Instead, please make your way to the Silver Grace Clinic!

Lavender Beds, Ward 15, Plot 5.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

@the-faceless-ffxiv

[[OOC Note: These flyers are available for anyone to pick up and use as a plot hook!]]

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The Void Gazes Back

It was for but a moment that the man was afforded a glimpse of what stalked beyond the Veil, appearing as it would if it were viewed through a thick pane of glass. It was painted in distorting and abstract fragments that told of a being whose enormity could not be expressed; whose grandeur was at once terrifying, awe-inspiring and utterly maddening. It was not simply here - it was everywhere; threaded into the earth, tangled around beings and buildings, an invisible ooze that was sunk into the seams of everything it touched, that stretched beyond time and conceivable space.The most merciful thing in the world is the inability of the mortal mind to correlate all its content at once, for it it were, the man surely would have gone insane. They gazed back as a doting parent would on their favored child and smiled. The image split and distorted again, leaving nothing behind but a rolling, pitching fog. A myriad of voices all whispered at once, young and old, feminine and masculine, the soul silencing words echoing out of that mesmerizing miasma. “Are you watching Us, little spider?” “Do you like what you see? We have allowed so few to glimpse even a piece of Our glory. You have been honored.” “You will tell them, won’t you? Tell the Children the grasp and spanse of what We have already touched? Tell them. Be Our Messenger. Bring Our despair.” “We admire how they march onward even unto death.” “We will Weep for them for eternity.”

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Professor Ozerov: Collective Reasoning

There was one question that plagued Kaisin’s thoughts as he reflected on recent events. How if at all possible were these whispers so knowledgeable about the events in people’s lives? There was something that plagued his thoughts, a concept that had once been an area of study for him. And soon he started readying himself for a test. If they could see us, then surely we can see them? Kaisin was not an all powerful whispering presumably shapeless entity from beyond. Kaisin is, however, extremely stubborn. Class went on as usual for the Professor. He ate lunch with Ququki, spoke with his secretary about all the responsibilities he was avoiding like parent conferences, and managed to keep the school from not catching fire for an entire day. And when all the young and curious went to their residences Kaisin went to work. “In the bathroom.” Came his secretary’s voice. The recently cleaned toiletries had become a laboratory of a different kind as Kaisin started hammering crystals into the wall.  “Yes Victoria, in the bathroom.” “You are aware we use the bathroom right?” “It’ll be fine. Could you maybe I don’t know..leave for the day? I’ll handle closing up.” Having decided she wanted nothing to do with this she quickly left and all that remained was the Professor, a bunch of aether crystals, his enchanted ink, and the bathroom mirror. Much of the night was spent drawing circles, using arcane geometries that he’d scavenged from Allagan records. These ancient circles were connected by lines of enchanted ink that likewise connected to the aetheric crystals he’d hammered into the wall. After it was all said and done he stepped back to admire the arcane engine that he’d created in the bathroom. After a moment’s contemplation he stepped forward and placed his hand on the mirror, causing the circles to light up and funnel their energies into the circles, these circles likewise empowering the mirror. He focused on the whispers, the sensation, that chill of uncertainty. They could listen in on him but could he listen in on them? There was one possibility. Eorzea’s collective unconscious. It was dangerous, but perhaps they had been viewing things from there. And perhaps he could view them from there as well. @the-faceless-ffxiv

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A delivery

Curiously, the moogle that arrives within Kaisin Ozerov’s company seems quite nervous to the point of quaking in it’s miniature boots, though perhaps even more curious is that the package that it bears, and the letter that accompanies it is entirely intact. Moogles weren’t always known for delivering things in the best of condition, or at all, after all. “S-Sir-” A pause, the moogle’s pom notably droopy as it thrusts the letter and package towards the professor, “-It’s f-for you, and IpromiseIdidn’topenitoranything!!!”

The very second the package is in Ozerov’s hands the moogle zips off, only to disappear a few feet off in a miniature puff of smoke, a stray kuponut clattering to the ground in it’s haste to escape. The package’s contents were not to be scoffed at: An assortment of Ishgard’s finest and most expensive cookies and candies, including Vaelyn’s very favourite spice cookies. One set of jellies had the obvious intervention of a child, though, it’s wrapping coloured upon with little hearts and rabbit drawings, and bearing the inscription of: From Marceline

The letter was likely of more note, however, considering who it came from. My friend, I was interested to hear that you had begun a tenure as a professor now instead. I do hope that life suits you ever so much better than your previous... profession. In the course of my discussion with miss Kha, I learned of your appreciation of sweets, so I hope that they have found you well as per my instructions to Kupop. Regardless, I find our reunion a curious one that we should be drawn together by this... entity that seeks to offer us temptation in one form or another. I was surprised to see your paper on the subject, calling for the very meeting you held this night. I thank the Fury that it managed to cross my desk, lest I had been left thinking that I was isolated in this incident. Whilst we speak of gratefulness I express my thanks to you for organizing the very thing. It is my hope that we may speak at some point, and while I realize there is the pearl to call if need be, I prefer at times this more personal means of communication. Sincerely, Lord Vaelyn Rillek @ramensaucerp

#faceless #kaisin ozerov #vaelyn rillek

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Such a gift you've been given. We too love Our children and would protect them from harm. But can you stand alone? A single line of defense against the darkness that is to come? We would weep to see such lights forever dimmed in Our sight - especially when We could have saved them. All you must do is let Us is, come closer to Us and you will never experience the pain - the guilt - of losing them as well.

As per usual, Vaelyn was working in his office, at his Gridanian summer home,  pushing himself a bit beyond reasonable limits and he had begun to get tired. He was dropping, but trying to stay concious and it was within this state of vulnerability that the voice had come. Unfamiliar and haunting, it startled Vaelyn back to a state of awareness, much the same as many of his nightmares had, yet unlike those perturbed dreams, the voice did not cease. What temptations it spoke, tugging at just the right strings to make even so stalwart of mind a man as Vaelyn waver. It gave him a tight feeling in his chest, and involuntarily his fingers curled, claw-like, to scratch his nails against the fine wood grain of his desk. His jaw clenched to a point of strain that brought a dull throbbing to the back of his head. “Ulfarr!” He called out, his voice usually so steady and cold, now held just that tiny hint of uncertainty. No answer - where had the highlander gone? There were any number of possibilities, for his duties were many. In fact, the entire house seemed quiet, despite the myriad of wards, his own family and servants that usually bustled about. This brought a frown to his face, and the priestly nobleman was unsettled all the more. Odd, when he usually preferred a quiet house. For now, he opted, the best option was to refocus on his work and steer his mind away from those whispers that had invaded his solitude. But there, at the back of his mind they waited, expecting an answer.

#the faceless #vaelyn rillek #the-faceless-ffxiv

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