#Cordalia Darwall
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Prompt #2: On Wings of Fire
Cordalia has felt the change in the winds, and has something to say.
Prompt: Aberrant
The crew steadily filed into the mess, filling out whatever space they could find. Some of them were in high spirits when they walked in, but all of them chilled instantly on taking one look at Cordalia. She was sitting on one of the tables at the far end, her feet planted on the seat. Her head was bowed, expression hidden beneath the brim of her hat, and her hands were clasped together.
This was unfortunate already, for any of her sailors could pot her in a foul mood from a malm away, but what made this different was that the senior crew-mates were filing into the room alongside the rest of the crew. The captain had called this meeting without warning- if the Quartermaster was stepping in with the rest of the crew, something big was coming. Something even he didn’t yet know about.
Once everyone was inside, Cordalia looked up to meet their gaze. Her expression was solemn, distant, concerned. It spoke of a coming dread, and a deep misfortune. Never before had anybody on this ship seen her look this way.
“Everyone,” the captain said, her voice carrying across the hall as she made to stand upon the table. “As you well know, the ship has been undergoing a massive refit and large-scale renovations. This has been an lengthy and expensive prospect, and has displaced most of you at one point or another. For that, I am sorry. It is time you learn exactly why it is that I have ordered these renovations.”
A low murmur spread throughout the crowd. Cordalia let it continue for a time, then continued. “The winds have turned, and carry on them an omen of death. War is coming, against an enemy unlike any this star has faced before. We’ve seen them- those towers out there- and we’ve seen what monstrosities pour from them. They are demons born of something even the Void cannot quite understand, much less any of us, and they threaten this star and every soul upon it.
“It is the sworn duty of both myself and this ship, that we will fly and fight and die to see these skies remain forever free. I intend to uphold that duty until my last. Unfortunately for us, we cannot have the dream of freedom we so desperately work to achieve when the very world is under threat. These refits are ordered in the hope that we might lend our aid to combat that threat.”
The low murmur then turned to a mixture of shocked expressions and uncomfortable commends thrown about. Not one of them could have foreseen what came next.
“You are, one and all, sky-sailors, brave and true. As you would lay down your life for myself or the Brannvinge, so too would I lay down my life for any one of you. You have given me so much, and I only hope that I have repaid you in turn. With adventure, freedom, hope, and buckets of coin.”
That produced a slightly awkward rumble of chuckles from the crowd. Cordalia smiled, and took a deep breath to calm the hammering of her heart.
“You all know the penalty for abandonment. I’ve never restricted ones ability to resign when they feel the need, but to abandon the ship is to abandon your siblings of these skies. Now, however… the situation has changed. When the refits are complete, I intend to turn this ship on the path to war.”
The reactions to this declaration were wildly varied. Some were shocked to silence. Others baffled, confused. Others more, angry, feeling betrayed that their ever-dashing rogue of a Captain was consigning them all to this fate.
Of course, she’d never stoop to that.
“I realize all of you have a special place in your heart for the Brannvinge, the time you’ve spent here, and the life you’ve lived. I would never think to rob you of that. To that end, when the refits are complete, this ship is going to be rechristened the Nebuchadnezzar- a vessel of war. Until that time, any one of you are free to resign your posts without reason, penalty, or delay. You are free to live as you choose. You are free to die as you choose.”
Quiet settled on the room once again. In the crowd, Cordalia saw Daisuke. He looked almost… proud. Vashir was somewhere towards the back, who was looking as grumpy as always. Among the others, her words had inspired some, horrified others- and she couldn’t blame them.
“The Brannvinge was a symbol of a free and open sky for all,” Cordalia called again, her raw force of confidence re-capturing the room. “The Nebuchadnezzar is to be a symbol of death for all those enemies of ours caught beneath her wings of fire. Those who would stand with me, I thank you. Those who wish to seek a new path; good luck, and may the Twelve ever guide your light through the darkness to come.”
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Prompt #1: Business Relations
Cordalia has a problem she’s never had before, and turns to her most trusted confidant for aid.
Prompt: Foster
Cordalia Darwall was not listening.
That, of course, didn’t surprise anybody. She wasn’t there to listen- she paid Daisuke to do that. The pair of them sat at the head of the table in the meeting room aboard the Brannvinge. They were (which is to say, Daisuke was) renegotiating a maintenance and supply schedule for the ship. It was one of those boring administrative duties she was required to attend, because a system as complex as the Brannvinge and her crew didn’t run on a whim. It ran on refined ceruleum and the broken dreams of men who would seek to own the skies.
Representatives of Skysteel Manufactory, Garlond Ironworks, and the Independent Engineers Union (which included Tattered Sails Magitek) were in attendance. It was a complicated series of agreements that were intertwined and tangled in so complicated away it would take a genius to navigate them all at once. A genius, Cordalia was not. Her mind was usually of dreaming of adventure and swashbuckling derring-do and rescuing damsels in distress. Today… well, one of these was true.
Daisuke, Quartermaster of the Brannvinge, was the genius. Genius is a Takahashi family trait. Their minds were incredible tools and Daisuke, much like his sister, used his to incredible effect. He was the child of a noble of Doma, who himself was a legendary business magnate. He took to these delicate business negotiations like a fish takes to water. Building a foundation of trust and mutual respect upon which he could, piece by agonizing piece, construct a beautiful monument to good fortune and kind favour which would make his kami weep and-
“Everybody get out,” Cordalia muttered. The polite and refined conversation occurring around the table screeched to an abrupt stop. Daisuke turned a cold gaze on her.
“Captain?” he asked.
“You know what we need, we know how much you’ll ask,” Cordalia spoke louder this time, actually addressing the room. “These politics are beyond boring. We’ll pay whatever price you want. Get out.”
The businessmen and women in the room couldn’t scramble fast enough. She’d just handed them quite literally the best deal they could get, and if they stayed, they risked compromising it. Daisuke huffed a sigh as he watched them file out of the room, like watching his creation of genius crumble one agonizing piece at a time.
“We’re going to go bankrupt if you keep being a fool,” Daisuke warned her. He enjoyed his lofty position of being the only person on-board who could call Cordalia stupid right to her face. “We could have squeezed more from them for less than half of what they’re asking.”
“Daisuke, you’re Doman.” She hadn’t heard anything he’d said- that was a practiced skill. The first thing he said after she destroyed negotiations was usually an insult.
“Very observant of you, Captain. I suppose I don’t have to reveal my scales to you at this point either.”
“Domans have a pretty… tricky culture, right? It takes a lot of time and effort to learn it all. To get used to it.”
“What is your point, Captain?”
“I’d like you to teach me some things.”
The ship could have exploded in that very moment, and Daisuke wouldn’t have been as concerned about that as he was this. “You… wish to learn of Doman culture?”
“That’s right. You know, proper presentation, social etiquette, courting, shit like that.” Cordalia pushed up from her seat and spent a moment checking her equipment, making sure everything was sitting correctly. Really, she was just trying to hide how nervous she was that she was asking this of him at all. “It’s to foster business relations with the Yamamoto trading company.”
And just like that, all of the pieces fell into place in Daisuke’s mind. “Miss Yamamoto is Hingan, Captain.”
Cordalia’s cheeks turned a cherry red. Of course he’d seen right through her. He’d always been good at it. “Close enough, right?”
Daisuke didn’t want to even begin unpacking that one. Thankfully, he’d still be able to tell her what she needed to know- he knew plenty and more of Hingan traditions, and more again about the Yamamoto, but Cordalia didn’t need to know why.
“When shall we begin?” he offered.
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ROLL CALL - FFXIVWRITE 2021
My active characters for this year’s FFXIVWRITE!
FFXIVWRITE | 2019 Entries | 2020 Entries
Rikyo Takahashi
A private investigator operating out of Kugane. As her newest case crumbles around her, so too does her life. Finding herself at rock bottom, the only way left to go is up; and shadowy forces align to see her there.
“The time for justice is done. The time for judgement is nigh.”
Rikyo’s story will conclude in Endwalker. In Endwalker, Rikyo will claw her way back through the mire of her life with the shadow of Judgement on her shoulder, and work to solve her final case: who killed Rikyo Takahashi?
Hayzell Darwall
Born X’rahna Lenn, Hayzell is a captain of the Ala Mhigan Resistance and a master of the Fists of Rhalgr. As she finds her foes of flesh and steel are supplanted by those of horror and malice, Hayzell decides she, too, must look to powers beyond mortal limits to give her and her people a fighting chance.
“For I am become death, destroyer of worlds.”
Hayzell’s story will conclude in Endwalker. In Endwalker, Hayzell will find herself standing side by side with her former blood enemies, walking the path that will lead her to her fate, the fate of those who walked before, and the fate of those who walk after: single combat against Destroyer himself.
Cordalia Darwall
The adoptive sister of Hayzell, Cordalia is a Sky Pirate and the captain of the Shiva-class carrier Brannvinge. She is feared, loved, hated, and respected by many and more, but despite her reputation- and, indeed, her own actions- she has but a simple dream: freedom.
“The skies belong to no man.”
Suriko Saito
A former under-archon now on the run from Sharlayan. Suriko is a non-vocal illusionist and trickster, and carries with her a forbidden knowledge that has Sharlayan hot on her heels. She is slick, manipulative, and ruthless when threatened, but largely just likes to mess with people for giggles.
“... :]”
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Prompt #8: The Nebuchadnezzar
Cordalia Darwall deals with pirates on her own terms.
Prompt: Adroit
The air on the bridge of the Nebuchadnezzar was tense and still. Not a single soul was in motion. Cordalia was barely even blinking. Somewhere out there, concealed in this blanket of clouds, was her prey.
Pirates had beset them as they moved, half-baked, from the Holy See towards Gyr Abania. How they managed to track her down is anybody’s guess, but they were here now. She’d deal with them first, and with her traitor afterwards.
The blanket of clouds was an artificial creation. Conjurers on-board the pirates’ corvette had brought it with them, and now that cloud enveloped the Nebuchadnezzar, blinding her to the skies around. The Nebuchadnezzar itself was still lacking a lot of the arms and armour it needed, but she had the crew. Machinists, Conjurers, Thaumaturges, and whatever the hell Votir had going on. She knew they were out there, and she knew they were waiting for her to make the first move.
And she would. On her terms.
“Votir,” Cordalia called over the linkshell. “Are you on deck?”
“Aye, captain.” The gruff Hrothgar voice rattled the pearl in her ear.
“Outstanding,” Cordalia declared. “Front and center, big man. Lets show off your lovely singing voice.
Votir grunted. He didn’t much care for her facetious attitude, but he understood what he wanted of her. He marched his way out to the middle of the top deck, in open exposure to the clouded sky beyond. He planted his staff into the floor, and held his arms out wide. Lightning began to arc between the staff and the man as he began his ritual incantation. Blue aetheric light shone from his eyes, and his voice steadily began to echo throughout the heavens. The blanket that surrounded the Nebuchadnezzar took on a darker shade, and rain began to pour.
“Ugh. Love that.” Cordalia reached up to tap into the linkshell again. “All hands, I want any Conjurer, Thaumaturge, Arcanist, or man with a gun to the top deck. If you see a shadow, shoot it. We’ll drag them all from the sky and sort out the mess later.”
By her command, a handful of crew-mates streamed out onto the deck, preparing their weapons and various focii, ready to watch the skies.
Votir’s voice continued to sound as though it were coming from all directions at once. Lightning jumped from his body to whatever was nearby to jump to- then, finally, thunder boomed uncomfortably closely. The dark cloud veil suddenly lit up, revealing a swarm of shadows within. The pirate cutters.
“Light ‘em up!” Cordalia called, as the crew of the Nebuchadnezzar enflamed the cloud veil, forcing the cutters from the sky like angels falling from heaven.
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Prompt #10: WANTED
In which Cordalia Darwall is wounded. Offended. Hurt, even.
Prompt: Avail
Cordalia Darwall rolled a single gold coin deftly around her fingers. She was sitting on a grand sofa on the deck of the Brannvinge, placed at the foot of a gangplank. “What is the bounty these days… Murray… Meringue…”
“Mathew.” Mathew said, perched precariously on the edge of the gangplank that overlooked about a thousand yalms of empty space before the cold hard stone of the Gyr Abanian plain.
“Madaline.” Cordalia confirmed. “What’s the bounty, Maddy?”
“A round million.” He tried to keep his calm despite the airman pushing a lance to his back. He’d figured that if he played nice, maybe she might not order him poked to his death. In hindsight, he might have been delirious with fear.
“Wow. One million. I’m… well, I’m offended.” Cordalia commented. “Only one-hundred large step up. What do you think?”
She craned her neck up to look at Daisuke, who had so kindly carried the sofa out here with her so she could watch the execution of this bounty hunter in comfort and style. “I think the Eorzean Alliance is recognizing your humanitarian efforts, but must make a token effort regarding your eventual arrest.”
“Hey, uh… Mateus? What’s the charge this time?”
“They, uh…” Mathew hesitated, a moment of vertigo overtaking his concentration. “They got tired of listing all the specific crimes and just limited it to… piracy.”
“What the fuck?!” Cordalia exclaimed, shooting to her feet. “I have never committed piracy!”
Daisuke cleared his throat.
“I have not committed piracy in at least three years!” Cordalia clarified. “Motor, do you have any friends on their way?”
“A few… acquaintances… probably more… a million isn’t something to ignore…”
Cordalia nods. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Good luck to them, but I’m not available.” She turns on her heel and makes to march away, Daisuke right behind her.
“Does…” Mathew began. “Does that mean I’m free to go…?”
“Oh!” Cordalia clapped her hands. “Shit I’m so sorry, I almost forgot. Uh… no.”
Daisuke and the Lancer stepped aside. Cordalia whipped out a small hand-cannon and shot Mathew square in the back, consigning him to the open skies.
And the hard ground shortly thereafter.
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Prompt #2: How the Stars Move
In which Cordalia Darwall ponders a great many things.
Prompt: Sway
(Note: Deciding to get back into proper formatting again, after I’d forgotten all about it with the first prompt. Whoops!)
The airship doesn’t sway.
Cordalia noticed this as she stared up at the stars. She’d long since tuned out of whatever it was Vashir was trying to teach her- which she would probably regret later- but just now the thought had struck her that the airship didn’t sway.
When she’d been a sailor, the normal sea-bound kind, she’d learned to read the stars for navigation as many sailors did, but the rocking of the boat meant one had to track them as they moved relative to the sailor. Such was the case for all the airships Cordalia had served on or captained. On the Brannvinge, however, a much larger airship with a much more complicated design, Cordalia noticed she’d felt rather dizzy looking at the sky. The stars don’t move.
The airship doesn’t sway.
Such was the nature of her ambition, she supposed. As she moved further and further up in her life, ever marching towards her dream of absolute freedom, this came with doing away with piddly restrictions like “Don’t fall off the side of the ship when looking up at the stars” which she may or may not have done at least twice in the past. Not a problem anymore, of course.
The airship doesn’t sway.
Her dreams weren’t so much dreams anymore, of course; now that her crew had discovered the Allagan Bridge, and all the risk and reward that came with it, she might just be able to achieve her goal after all. The thought… made her sad. She’d grown attached to the Brannvinge, and all it was and could do, especially ever since she’d commissioned a personality for it. She’d bring the personality, Serah, with her, but she’d leave the ship behind, probably under the care of Daisuke. The thought made her sad, but the airship wouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter to the airship who comes and goes. She’d miss the airship, but the airship wouldn’t miss her.
The airship doesn’t sway.
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Roll Call!
My full character list!
The characters listed here are openly available for RP.
In order, they are: Rikyo Takahashi, Hayzell Darwall, Cordalia Darwall, Connor Cormaic, Evie Shalquoir, and Saint Celeste.
If any catch your fancy, let me know! Without further ado...
Rikyo Takahashi - Private Detective
A distant but hard-working woman, operating out of an office in Kobai Goten.
Alongside her partner Kokoro Ijiri, Rikyo seeks to bring justice and security to the downtrodden masses of Kugane.
While the Detective does this work to earn herself a living, she has been known to take on cases pro bono under multiple circumstances.
Shadowy forces follow this Detective with great interest, tugging strings and gently guiding her towards a doomed fate.
Hayzell Darwall - Resistance Captain and Fist of Rhalgr
From naive young woman blindly swinging through life to accomplished captain of the Resistance, Hayzell has undergone much change in her time.
Adopted by an Ala Mhigan pair when she was a very young child, Hayzell was originally born to a wandering tribe under the name X’Rahna Lenn. Despite this, Hayzell sees Ala Mhigo as her true home.
Now a fledgling Master of the Fist and living with a loving wife, Hayzell works alongside her Resistance allies to ensure a safe and secure future for Ala Mhigo.
Cordalia Darwall - Sky Privateer Admiral
The only true-born daughter of the Darwall pair, Cordalia is an adventurous young woman who only seeks true freedom.
She took to the skies only a few years ago, seeing it as a logical next step in her dream for freedom. She quickly climbed her way to the rank of Captain aboard her own ship, the original Skyfall, before expanding her loyalty and forces to a total of three vessels; Tacit Light (Formerly the Skyfall), Prospect Warden, and her flagship, the Shiva-class Brannvinge.
The skies belong to no man, and to Cordalia, there is no crime greater than trying to claim them for your own.
Ser Connor Cormaic - Knight Commander of the Star
A wandering knight, hailing from a far-off land brought low by the Empire of Garlemald.
Ser Cormaic is a charming and charismatic fellow, a trait contrasting his cold and devastating nature on the battlefield. Favouring pole-arms and lances, Connor brings a proficient flourish and a tricky combat style to battle.
A humble and kind exterior masks a spotted history involving religious zealotry, public executions, and one good ol’ fashioned Crusade.
Evie Shalquoir - Woodland Conjurer
One among the many of her kind who have recently spread out into the world, Evie is a soft but generally kind woman, finding her way through the unfamiliar world of Eorzea.
Stricken by a mysterious illness that the conjurer simply refuses to speak on, Evie suffers the symptoms intermittently. Occasionally she will be unable to function at all- only to return to full health again as soon as the very next day.
Some warn that her sickness may spread, following reports of associates falling similarly ill or disappearing completely. Whether or not this is the case for the otherwise innocent Viera is a matter to be explored.
“Celeste” - Saint of the Twelve
A work-in-progress character. A mysterious being who seemingly appeared from nowhere one day, after suffering a brutal death at the hands of Garlemald while fighting on behalf of the people of a far-off land.
Both before and after her death, Celeste displays unique and potent magical abilities, which she attributes to an undying and unbreakable faith in the Twelve.
#ffxiv#ffxiv rp#rp#roleplaying#au ra#raen#miqo'te#seeker of the sun#hyur#midlander#rikyo takahashi#hayzell darwall#cordalia darwall#connor cormaic#saint celeste#ff14#final fantasy xiv#final fantasy 14#viera#evie shalquoir
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Prompt #1: Remember The Guardian
In which Cordalia hosts Grim’s favourite event in honour of her sacrifice.
“Remember us, Captain. Remember the Guardian.”
Prompt: Voracious
(No TW’s for this one, a touch of course language, but placed under the cut to keep things neat and tidy!)
A full malm above the rocky, mountainous isle of Vylbrand, the dull whine of idle ceruleum engines keeping the Brannvinge afloat was drowned out by the roar of the crowd that had flooded the mess hall. The long wooden tables lined by benches had been cleared away in favour of just a single table, circular, situated in the direct center of the room. On one side sat Eindride, the helmsman of the Brannvinge, a white-haired Hrothgar with an absolutely notorious appetite. Across from him; cracking his knuckles in gargantuan hands, a positively massive Hellguard known colloquially among the crew as simply ‘Boomin’. With his own aged, dark brown skin, he grinned down at his opponent.
“Well ‘den, Ein! Ya shakin’ in yer stool? Think you can step to the big Boomin?” A number of cheers and laughs rippled through the crowds, which Eindride could only join in on, at his own expense.
“Vell!” Ein called. “Big man Boomin’, as I live an’ breathe!” They had, of course, met plenty of times before. Boomin’ held the terribly busy position of Master-at-Arms for the Brannvinge, and so he had personally vetted Eindride before the Hrothgar had been brought onto the crew. Today, however, they had a show to put on. “Tha king o’ tha mess hall! About ta be dethroned!”
Cordalia stood alone on the balcony overlooking the mess. Most of the crew attending this competition had elected to occupy the mess floor, though a few onlookers were dotted around nearby. Among them was a doting young couple who probably hadn’t yet spotted their Captain, some slightly annoyed kitchen staff who didn’t have anywhere else to stand given their diminutive Lalafellin stature, and finally, the unmistakable blue-haired form of Kellian Grey, whom Cordalia had requested come aboard for a very special project. He was flanked on either side by a pair of fledgeling engineering crewmates, constantly badgering him with questions and notes. Kellian threw Cordalia a slightly exhausted look, which she returned with a smirk and a two-finger salute.
“Alright you rowdy rats!” A voice called from the crowd between the competing table and the kitchens. “Get out of the way! We can’t have a competition without the main feast!”
A line of cooks were barging their way through the crowd, each hoisting a large platter of a wide range of cuisines from across Hydaelyn. One by one they were dropped upon the table, until every ilm of it was covered in food.
“Very well, gents!” The first of the cooks declared, his rank as head chef denoted by the golden hem around his black uniform. “You’ve familiarized yourselves with the rules! There are four platters each, you have five minutes! The man with the least food remaining will be declared the winner!”
Cordalia had already checked out by this point. Her wandering eye was playing tricks on her, for across the mess hall and on the opposite balcony, she thought she’d seen some familiar faces- those that belonged to the crew of the Guardian Edge. Ross, the mad inventor, Hayley, who had been in charge of magical communications, and most importantly Grim, Cordalia’s first officer, who had essentially thrown Cordalia off of the Guardian as it sailed towards Ghimlyt aflame, to meet its fate.
“Listen t’me, Cor. Those fuckers’ve plucked us from the sky. If any’ve us are gonna be able to tear them to th’ fuckin’ ground, it’s you. Remember us, Captain. Remember the Guardian.”
The memory caused Cordalia’s breath to catch, her senses once again assaulted by the noise and stench of the burning and falling sky-vessel. It wasn’t until a hand met her shoulder that she was snapped out of the reprieve, a glance to her right revealing Kellian himself to be the culprit. In her lack of focus, she’d not noticed him round the bend to meet her.
“Cor?” He tested. “They’re waiting for you.”
Sure enough, when she glanced down to the mess, the hall was silent. All eyes were upon her, even the competitors, each and every one holding that twinkling sense of anticipation.
“What?!” She called down, attempting to hide her very obvious moment of emotional vulnerability behind the jubilation of the event. “You two start getting fuckin’ vertigo? Get started!” Taking a firmer grip on the glass of whiskey that had been hanging limply in her hand until now, she raised it high. “To the Guardian! To the Brannvinge!”
The resulting roar of cheers was only a few notches short of deafening. A bell was sounded, and the two men at the table began voraciously devouring the meals before them. Cordalia lowered her glass again, and Kellian leaned onto the balcony railing.
“And to Grim.” He sternly nodded.
Cordalia hung her head, but couldn’t shake that bittersweet smile.
ft. @kelliangrey-ffxivrp!
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast for entry!
I sort of had to pull this one out, it was a tricky prompt for my characters :>
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Hazel’s FFxivWrite2019 Submission Masterpost!
#1 Voracious: Remember the Guardian
#2 Bargain: All or Nothing
#3 Lost: Arcadia
#4 Shifting Blame: For All Our Days (TW’s apply!)
#5 Vault: In Response
#6 First Steps: Evie
#7 Forgiven: Look Him In The Eye, Aim No Higher
#9 Hesitate: Our Sacred Mission (TW’s apply!)
#11 Snuff: Extrasensory
#12 Fingers Crossed: Mad Science
#13 Wax: Deadline
#17 Obeisant: To Crack the Whip
#18 Wilt: Broken
#20 Bisect: Downsizing
#21 Crunch: Seventy Five
#22 Vicarious: The Saint of Georgie’s Duel
#23 Parched: Three Days
#24 Unctuous: Weak Wills and Pretty Women
#26 Slosh: Blizzard
#27 Palaver: An Oronir Ala Mhigo
#28 Attune: Half Broken Things
#30 Darkness: Per Tenebrae (TW’s apply!)
#FFxivWrite2019#ffxiv rp#Hayzell Darwall#Rikyo Takahashi#Cordalia Darwall#Connor Cormaic#Evie Shalquoir#Saint Celeste
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Prompt #17: To Crack the Whip
In which Captain Darwall establishes her dominance.
Prompt: Obeisant
Cordalia pinched the bridge of her nose, sitting in her chair at the head of her meeting room aboard the Skyfall.
“I have one rule.” She grumbled. There were others in the room with her, staring on in various states of shock. Her second, the scarred girl they called Grim. Her Quartermaster, Daisuke, running from his past. The frail xaela girl, Alun, who offered a face like she maybe wasn’t quite ready for this line of work. “Grim, what is my one rule?”
“No weapons in the meeting room.” Grim and Daisuke dutifully recalled, Alun still too new to be quite so attuned. The man laying on the table, short a chunk of skull and much of his brain which now painted the nearby wall, clearly hadn’t recalled it quite so well.
It had all happened rather quickly. There was a heated discussion about delegation of duties between Cordalia, Captain of the Skyfall, and a number of her ensigns and bridge officers. One man in particular, a Roe named Blasted Rivers, was attempting to negotiate more power for his squad. More power, to him, meant control over massive portions and functions of the ship. Cordalia and multiple other officers were already sick of his presence and strongarming tendencies, which had come to a head when he had drawn a knife that the man had smuggled into the meeting room.
The entire room fell to a tense silence. Blasted Rivers thought he’d taken the upper hand, ready to begin and end a mutiny on the spot. However, he had forgotten one extremely important addition to the rule;
No weapons in the meeting room; aside from the Captain.
A large hand cannon that was affixed to the side of her chair at the head of the table. As he’d stabbed the knife into the table in front of Cordalia in an attempt to intimidate her, she’d responded by taking the cannon and turning it against his temple, blasting away.
Now, eyeing the men and women sitting either side of the table, some covered in blood, she felt her rage rapidly boil over and slammed her fist on the table, shooting to her feet.
“Would anybody else like to fucking dare pull a weapon? Make an attempt on my command?!”
The room was dead silent. Grim, Daisuke, Alun, and the rest of her bridge officers. This wasn’t quite good enough.
“I am in command, here. Am I understood? I am your captain. I treat you well. I give you a home. Work. A live of heroism and adventure! And this isn’t good enough for you!?”
Cordalia rounded the table and gave the body a firm kick to knock it to the ground. No respect for dead mutineers. “Does anybody else have anything to add?”
There was a number of non-committal mumbles across the table. Cordalia didn’t take half measures when it came to loyalty. “I asked a question!” She shouted.
Almost at once, every man and woman at the table shot to their feet and threw up a salute. “Yes, ma’am!”
Cordalia nodded once, managing to sign out some of her frustration. “Get out. You’re all dismissed.” Her officers could not leave fast enough, almost scrambling over each other to get away from the tense air in the room. “Alun.”
The Xaela girl froze in her tracks, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the call.
Cordalia stared her down with her bright emerald gaze. “I’m sorry he had to try that in front of you, my little Tonberry, But now you know the consequences of disobedience.”
@alun-ura for mentions!
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Prompt #30: Per Tenebrae
In which primal darkness finds us all eventually.
Prompt: Darkness
“No… please, Detective!” The woman begged. “He was protecting us!”
She was huddled off to one side, protecting her young son. Her lover, father of her child, had the unfortunate position of sitting at the other end of Rikyo Takahashi’s firearm.
“He killed somebody. A life for a life.” Rikyo threatened.
“That somebody was trying to rob us! When we already have so little! You would take him from us?!”
“Shut up!” Rikyo barked back. She was facing a darkness of her own, here. She could not simply allow this man to get away with his crime. The punishment for theft is imprisonment. Punishment for murder is death.
The woman was right, of course. They were a small, poor family. Both of them had probably stolen to see their way along as well. Rikyo hated cases like these. The cases that forced her to choose between her emotions and her logic. If she was soft here, what kind of precedent would that set? Would she need to do the same further down the line? And what about those who had already faced this justice?
No. The darkness said. The punishment for muder is death.
Rikyo shook her head. “I’m sorry. The law is hard but it is the law.” Never one to drag things out unnecessarily, she squeezed the trigger firm.
In the distance, thunder shook the land as the Garleans bombs fell.
“Liberty or death!” They chanted. It gave them hope. But to their brothers and sisters, conscripted to the other side? It was a sound to elicit fear.
Hayzell knew this all too well. During the liberation of Ala Mhigo. Her dark-brown armour was stained various shades of red and blue, covered in dirt, blood, and ceruleum. She tore an important looking pipe from the carapace of a reaper, moments before it could blindside the Autumn Brigade with a cannon blast. The resulting ceruleum leak caught flame when the cannon did attempt to fire, sending the machine and the pilot up in intense flame. Hayzell was long gone, back to the front of the Brigade.
It was then she faced down a Garlean squadron. Conscripts, all but their leader. “Look at these savages!” Their commander barked. “Thinking they can take your land from you!”
Those were her people, Hayzell knew. When she looked on them, she saw scared men and women of Ala Mhigo, those unfortunate few who could not escape and were instead forced to live under the boot of the Garleans.
And when they look at you, The darkness said, and Hayzell could see her own image clear in her mind. The cold, hard eyes of the dragons’ helm she wore. They see their doom.
Hayzell raised her sun high. “Liberty or death!”
“They’re crippled, Captain.”
The skies outside of the Skyfall’s bridge windows flashed in sync with the explosions of surface-to-air gunfire. Occasionally, the sky-sailing vessel rocked as another shell landed home, cracking against the hull.
Many had died already in this conflict. Both aboard her ship and others like it, and on the ground, in Gyr Abania. The Skyfall’s main cannons, modified Dragon Killers, had crippled a Garlean Dropship. There was probably somewhere in the realm of forty soldiers aboard, Cordalia reckoned.
“What are your orders?” Her helmsman spoke up again. “If we leave it be, it’ll drift down, relatively safely. “
Cordalia considered this for a time. The ground war was not her concern. Her sister and her forces could handle it, certainly. The Skyfall was already in danger as was, and the longer those cruisers remained in the air, the more pointless deaths they would face.
Those soldiers will kill more on the ground. The darkness said. If these vessels remain, the sky will belong to them. These skies belong to you.
“Fire everything. Drag them out of these skies.” Cordalia ordered, her nerves as cold as steel.
Connor wrenched his lance free of the Ixal Warrior.
Cormaic was a Knight-Commander of Arcadia. This was fairly routine for him- he felt no remorse as a second Ixali lunged. Connor sidestepped, slamming his knee clean into the bird-man’s gut, before swinging his lance blade across the back of the winded beast’s neck.
Connor was surrounded by adventurers and mercenaries much like himself, all under the employ of the Holy See. These beast men had been establishing a foothold in the old abandoned Castrum Aquilonis that the city was uncomfortable with, so a merry band had been rounded up to clear them out.
Things had turned not so merry, however, when Connor had forced open the door to a half-built warehouse, to discover a huddled group of obviously much younger Ixal. Adolescents, Connor had assumed. Perhaps they were brought along as labour, or simply wanted a new place to see, and had chosen the worst day possible to do so.
“Go. Clear them all out. They’re harassing and slaying our soldiers. Dissuade them from returning.”
Your orders are clear. The darkness said. Your creed is clear. A Knight of Arcadia leaves no foe standing.
“There’s more here!” Connor called. “Game’s on, fellas!”
Evie rolled lightly around in the bed that had been placed for her.
A young man had dragged her out of the woods into his cabin, having found her passed out beneath a mighty oak tree in the Shroud. When she had come to, nothing had set in but primal fear. She hadn’t had anything to sustain herself in some few days. Probably close to a week, now.
She glanced around frantically, her heart racing, her ears began to ring. Something- anything. A farm animal, a forest dweller, even a chicken or a rat would do!
But there was nothing of the sort. There was only the bright eyed young adventurer that had found her, who had not yet noticed her rousing. When she had spotted him, she could not see anything else. So young, so full of life. So rich in aether.
It was only ten steps from her cot to the door of the hut. Ten steps and she could find some poor creature to take his place.
It is kill or be killed. The darkness said. Only the strong survive. If you do not kill him, he will kill you- once he’s had his fill.
Evie pushed to her feet, and caught the boy’s eye.
“Oh- you’re awake! What… what are you doing?”
She pounced, tackling him to the ground, taking her fill.
Celeste knelt to pray.
This was traditional for her, whenever she cut down heathens and heretics, she knelt to pray to the Twelve. To apologise for what she was forced to do in their name.
This time, it was the man she had found crawling through the blizzard. He had pointed her to Ishgard in the hopes that she would rescue him, but instead, she set him alight.
She knew who she was. She was there to find him. A heretic. An enemy of Halone, the Fury. He had to be undone.
Did he? The darkness said. He was but a man. Men are flawed. They do not deserve to die.
He did. The light argued. Enemies of the Twelve are enemies of peace and enemies of all. This is our purpose- to burn them all.
Celeste stood. Where she had prayed, she knelt behind a gravestone dedicated to a former hero. She was looking upon the Holy See. She would return there now, speak of her success in burning the heretic, then continue on her way. She knew where her star guided her; to Kugane. To the survivors of Arcadia. To the dark that had spread among them.
That night, Rikyo took to her chosen hole-in-the-wall and started drinking until she couldn’t see. It would be a vain attempt at forgetting what had happened, but she would never ever forget.
That night, Hayzell and Cordalia cheered. There were fireworks, free-flowing booze, the sound of music and merrymaking as the people of Ala Mhigo declared that they had chosen Liberty over death.
That night, Connor sat down with that very bad, ales in hand. They were in varied states: some joyful and elated, others staring into the middle distance in a state of dread. Connor simply enjoyed himself. He saw his duties through, and had committed far worse atrocities in his time than what he had done that night.
That night, Evie wept. She had done something horrible. Beyond reprehensible. She was a healer, not a killer. It was not the first time. It would not be the last.
That night, Celeste marched. Marched towards the Airship Landing. To Kugane. To the Dark.
That night, the darkness had found them. The darkness finds us all, dear readers.
Where will you be when it comes for you?
#FFxivWrite2019#ffxiv rp#Rikyo Takahashi#Hayzell Darwall#Cordalia Darwall#Connor Cormaic#Evie Shalquior#Saint Celeste
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Prompt #20: Downsizing
In which Cordalia makes a choice she didn’t expect to be so difficult.
Prompt: Bisect
Mentions: @alun-ura
"Ye have to cut her loose, Cor."
Grim ran an idle finger over the edge of her glass. She was sitting opposite her captain in the relatively small mess hall of the Skyfall. It was late into the night, and the vessel was at skyport, which left only the two of them around- arguing, as they had been, for hours.
"I'm sure we can find something-" The Captain protested, but was immediately cut off.
"Cor. Come on." If it were anyone other than Grim, Cor night have thrown them some very harsh looks. As it were, Grim was there as her First to keep Cor in line. "You can't let yer feelin's for the girl affect yer opinion on this."
Cor straightened up, running a hand through her hair. "Where would she go? She doesn't have anyone else. Anywhere else."
"Aye, but that's not our concern, love." Grim hummed. Cordalia tried to protest, but thought back on all the reasons she'd kicked people off of her ship before. In her pause, Grim continued. "You have to think about what's best for her, and for the crew. You Darwall's can't spend all yer time worrying about the downtrodden."
With a defeated sigh, Cordalia wearily pushed up to her feet. "I'm not leaving her with nothing." She posited, reaching into her coat to draw out her personal weapon- the small hand cannon that she had most reliably used to put down the first signs of mutiny aboard her ship, and which she had only recently used to kill a man for drawing a weapon on her in the one room that absolutely no weapons were allowed. "Kugane is a rough town. Hopefully she won't have to get too much use out of this."
Grim followed suit, moving to her feet. "You've been quite firm with the girl so far, Cor. Shite, the streets might be gentler than you are."
"I'll start getting strict with you in a damn minute."
"Ye love me, don't lie."
Turning away from Grim and the mess, Cordalia raised a finger to the pearl that sat at her ear. After a moment or ringing, a voice sounded
"Bridge. Aye, Captain?"
"Take us out, helm. Set course for Kugane. And find Alun, have her meet me at my quarters."
"Aye, captain."
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Prompt #12: Mad Science
In which Cordalia employs some extremely lofty ambitions.
Prompt: Fingers Crossed
“How… the hells did you even get this up here? Better yet, where did you even get it?”
Cordalia grinned. Both she and the ensign were bathed in the deep blue glow emanated from the glowing Aetheryte Crystal that her very confused engineers had just finished mounting in the cargo hold.
“Worry not, Ensign. The specifics are somebody elses’ problem. What matters is that we can start getting to work on the plan!” The Captain intertwined her fingers behind her head, staring upon the giant crystal.
“And… what do you plan to do with this?”
“Why, mobile Aetheryte access to the Brannvinge of course! All we need to do is bring the Brannvinge to any location where the network can be accessed, and we can access the Brannvinge from any other Aetheryte on Hydaelyn! Gather up some extra Aethernet Shards, and we have a reliable method to and from the vessel for ground teams!”
The Ensign, completely baffled by the outrageous plans his captain had brewed up, could only hope to begin to unpack it. “Seems like a good waste of Aethernet shards- not to mention I’m fairly certain that’s not how the Aetheryte network works. Between this wild plan and whatever you have Kellian Grey working on below deck… are you sure any of this is going to work? That the ship is even going to fly?!”
Clapping a hand onto the man’s back, Cordalia laughed. “Get those shite thoughts off my ship, ensign. Have a little faith! Keep those fingers crossed!”
@kelliangrey-ffxivrp for the mention!
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Prompt #27: An Oronir Ala Mhigo
In which the Captains’ Darwall need to settle a debate.
Prompt: Palaver
Under the smoky skies of the extremely recently liberated Ala Mhigo, two small groups were engaged in a heated debate.
On one side, a mix of soldiers hailing from the Autumn Brigade, a squadron of the Ala Mhigan Resistance, and privateers of the Skyfall, a private force whose captain had dedicated their vessel to Ala Mhigo’s cause.
One the other side, a splinter of the visiting Oronir Xaela. Mustered by the efforts of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, they had proven instrumental to secure Ala Mhigan victory. While many of them were decent and reserved, this particular group had decided that they deserved a piece of Ala Mhigo for their work.
By the time that the Captain’s Darwall arrived, Hayzell as Captain of the Autumn Brigade and Cordalia as Captain of the Skyfall, the two groups had become rather heated.
“This is the way of the Steppe!” an Oronir huntress roared. “We bested the rulers of this land, so it belongs to us!”
“This is our home!” A Brigadeer shot back. “Your people were brought here to fight alongside us, not conquer us!”
A Warrior grinned. “What’s the difference?!” He howled, earning a range of laughs and guffaws from his tribe.
“Excuse me?” Hayzell attempted. She crossed her arms, clad in the unique brown armour she’d sported for the entire war.
“We are Ala Mhigo!” A young lancer woman stepped forth. “Liberty or Death! We did not bow down to Garlemald, we will not bow down to you!”
“Look at this itty bitty thing, and her little twig!” The same Warrior stepped forth, staring the fierce woman down. “I would snap you between my two fingers!”
“Listen up!” Cordalia attempted, to about equal result.
“You Xaela know not your place!” This time, it was an Arcanist, towards the back. “You are visitors- we can kick your arses back home again!”
A Xaela archer stood fast. “Come then, Eorzeans! Show us this might you speak of!”
Finally, Hayzell and Cordalia barked out their orders together.
“Attention!” Cordalia shouted, earning the attention of the Eorzean force.
“Listen to me!” Hayzell barked in Xaelic, earning the ireful glares of the Oronir splinter. While Cordalia went off on some rant about discipline and good manners, Hayzell turned to the Oronir and spoke to them in a way they’d understand. “You warriors are bound by honour to fight for these lands! Your Khan has ordered it! To defy him is to make an enemy of the Oronir, and an enemy of Ala Mhigo, the most powerful nation to stand upon Eorzea!”
“Who are you to demand anything of us?!” The Warrior marched dead towards Hayzell. This caught the attention of the Eorzean force, who had seen what Hayzell was capable of. “I am an honoured Warrior of the Oronir! You are nothing to me!”
His opinion would soon change, however. He wound back a fist to swing at Hayzell, causing gasps and expecting grins to echo throughout the Eorzeans. Hayzell watched it calmly as it came at her, the Xaela ready to show his dominance. What the Oronir did not expect was how quickly she would move to snatch his fist and wrench it down, bringing her other gloved hand around to take hold of his upper bicep and slam the man into the ground.
Neither the Eorzeans nor the Oronir dared intervene. Without swinging, this much smaller Eorzean had planted an Oronir Warrior clean onto his face. She glanced back over her shoulder, still holding the man down by merit of her aetheric strength, to stare down the remaining Xaela.
“Anybody else?!” She shouted in their tongue. None stepped forth, only sharing uncertain looks. “That’s what I thought.”
She released the Warriors’ arm and returned to her feet, glancing between the two groups. “Now… lets sort this out like adults.”
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Burn the land.
Boil the sea.
You can’t take the sky from me!
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RP Profile - Admiral Cordalia Darwall
The only true-born daughter of the Darwall pair, Cordalia Darwall is an adventurous young woman who only seeks true freedom.
She took to the skies only a few years ago, seeing it as a logical next step in her dream for freedom. She quickly climbed her way to the rank of Captain aboard her own ship, the original Skyfall, before expanding her loyalty and forces to a total of three vessels; Tacit Light (Formerly the Skyfall), Prospect Warden, and her flagship, the Shiva-class Brannvinge.
The skies belong to no man, and to Cordalia, there is no crime greater than trying to claim them for your own.
Basics
Age: 30
Birthday: Twenty-fourth day of the second Umbral Moon
Race: Midlander Hyur
Gender: Female
Other Names: Cor, Admiral
Sexuality: Bisexual
Marital Status: Unmarried
Hair: Black, kept in a ponytail
Eyes: Emerald green
Height: 167.4cm (Approx 5 fulms. 4 ilms)
Build: Lithe, athletic
Distinguishing Marks: Emerald green eyes, almost uncannily bright
Personal
Profession: Sky Privateer Admiral
Hobbies: Flying, hiring folk for crazy and ambitious projects, throwing around gil in general
Languages: Common
Residence: Eorzean Privateer Vessel Brannvinge
Birthplace: Ala Mhigo
Diety: Rhalgr the Destroyer, Llymlaen the Navigator, Oschon the Wanderer
Fears: Confinement, imprisonment, any unilateral control of the skies
Relations
Hayzell Darwall: Cordalia’s adoptive sister, Hayzell and Cordalia have had a shaken relationship in the past, but currently maintain a strong bond now that both have matured significantly. Cordalia sees her Monk sister as a hero for the resistance, and has rendered any and all aid she can when her sister calls.
K’aila Rhiki: An old friend and repeated confidant, K’aila was responsible for helping Cordalia drag herself out of the dregs and criminal gangs she’d found herself tied up in. Now that Cordalia has grown as a woman and found herself in a place of power, she has paid this kindness back by supporting K’aila in her endeavours and even granting her command of Cordalia’s first vessel, the Tacit Light.
Kellian Grey: Family by proxy, being the biological brother of Cordalia’s adopted sister, Kellian and Cordalia have found common ground in the similarity of their shared pasts. Cordalia respects Kellian for his deep charisma and the way he seems to just keep soldiering on. Cordalia knows she can seek Kellian out for advice, but knows just as well why he left the pirate life behind.
Traits
Extroverted / In Between / Introverted
Disorganized / In Between / Organized
Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded
Calm / In Between / Anxious
Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable
Cautious / In Between / Reckless
Patient / In Between / Impatient
Outspoken / In Between / Reserved
Leader / In Between / Follower
Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic
Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic
Traditional / In Between / Modern
Hard-working / In Between / Lazy
Cultured / In Between / Uncultured
Loyal / In Between / Disloyal
Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful
Hooks
Sky Sailing: To Cordalia, no one can own the skies. She holds her personal creed to extremely high standard- the skies must remain free for all. Cordalia is naturally drawn to others who share this vision; be they sailors, pirates, and privateers alike. She’s been known to take offense whenever someone has, even jokingly, called her ‘Sky Queen’.
Need a crew?: Cordalia often sails between Eorzea and Hingashi, carring people, equipment, and supplies whenever hired to do so. Her vessels are equipped for combat as well as transport, and she personally vets each and every member of the crew as they join. If you need bodies for a tough job, or a big flying hulk of metal to make a point, throw some gil Cordalia’s way and she’ll be right there for whatever crazy plan you can think of.
Additional Information
The Firewing Skyfleet: Consisting of three ships flying the banner of Havenholm, the Firewing Skyfleet is Cordalia’s trio of vessels that have found their way into her possession through both legitimate and illegitimate means. Due to a recent incident in which Cordalia was presumed dead, the fleet is currently commanded by Admiral Elistri Vistruan.
The Brannvinge: Dalmascan designed Shiva-class light cruiser. Liberated from a Garlean Castellum in a jungle in the southern region of Ilsabard. The Brannvinge is a vessel carrying some rather advanced aetherological technologies, the most prevalent among them is a complex tactical awareness system installed by the Garleans.
Tacit Light: Ishgardian designed Protector-class striker. Cordalia’s first ship, won by cheating at cards. Seriously. The Tacit Light is a rapid deployment/evacuation craft with precision weaponry, designed to cripple hostile vessels to be plundered and, if possible, recovered and claimed.
Prospect Warden: Garlean Cruiser, previously belonging to Imperial Intelligence. Cordalia’s claiming of the Warden is a dark stain on her history; She ambushed the vessel while it was moored in Gyr Abania, and the crew was off hunting the nearby region for Kellian Grey. Cordalia took utmost advantage of the situation, knowing that the Garleans would not risk sending in more ships to recover the Warden which shouldn’t have been there at all. Cordalia lead the mission herself, and the entire former crew of the Warden were brutally eliminated to tie off any and all loose ends, regardless of their rank, purpose, or that they had already surrendered. This is the only example of Cordalia committing such a horrid act- but then, Darwalls will do anything for family.
I’m an Australian RPer on the GMT+10 timezone. I can be contacted on Tumblr @oracleffxiv, or on Discord: Hazel#8431!
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