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picwew · 3 years

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SQUAD UP! It’s time for Yuna and his crew of miscreant demons!

(Picrews are here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here!)

The characters are, top to bottom, left to right--

Nakajima, Yuna: A human with unusually high magical potential. His specialty is the binding of demons into servitude, which he utilizes to stop particularly troublesome demons from threatening human populations across the globe. Most of the demons under his care were seduced by him, as he has quite a knack for making men want him. As such, several of his servants are vying for his favor, but, in his own words, “I don’t play favorites~”

Obviously, Yuna is a bit of a flirt. His tastes extend well beyond demons, into just about any non-human he can get his hands on. He has a ravenous appetite for handsome men, but no plans to settle down any time soon. It isn’t that romance doesn’t appeal to him, more that he’s still young and a little too free-spirited for anything permanent. The way he dotes on his servants, though, you’d certainly think he was in love with them, Nihil in particular.

Mourning Dove: Affectionately referred to by his coworkers as “Dovey”, this little fellow was the first of Yuna’s servants, and is therefore his most staunch defender. The details of his past are hazy, even in his own mind, but he was born into the slave trade, nameless, nothing, the psychological toll of which would not become apparent until his eventual escape. He was full of hatred for the humans who had callously treated him as property, and claimed many lives before Yuna was able to soothe his aching heart. “You’re pretty as a mourning dove,” Yuna told him. From that moment on, he decided that this would be his name.

Dovey is, above all, an empath. Much of his time recovering from a life of slavery was spent learning to feel again. Once he got the hang of it, however, he found that he felt a little too much, so much so that he’s become somewhat of a crybaby. When others are in pain, he is often the one to comfort them. His sweet disposition and cute appearance have earned him his coworkers’ love, although they still get a bit miffed with him whenever he tries to hog Yuna’s attention.

Dr. Callaway: An interesting case, and a tough nut to crack. Only Yuna knows his full name; no one knows his story. All he’s shared is that he was fingered for human experimentation, and that, no, he has neither learned his lesson nor wishes to. Still, he behaves himself well enough, perhaps because he is entirely obsessed with Yuna in the most unhealthy way. While most of his coworkers consider one another family, Dr. Callaway is detached and often mocking of their sentimentality.

As expected, Dr. Callaway is a terrible sadist. He takes great pleasure in hurting others in any way he can. Nowadays, this is limited almost entirely to insults and threats, but he has been known to get physical with others when Yuna isn’t looking. It doesn’t help that nothing seems to bother him in return. You could beat the man senseless, and he’d come out of it grinning like a jackal.

Corvo: This one was a misunderstanding--or, rather, a case of cultures clashing in a very gruesome manner. Corvo is a hybrid of demon and crowkin. Beastkin are not true demons, but are often lumped in with them, so mixed-race families are not uncommon. Unfortunately, this can lead to some problematic offspring, particularly when one or both of the parents are detached from human society. Corvo, like many crowkin, was taught that food is food, and that human meat is the most delicious of all. He bore no ill will toward humans, but his view of them as, essentially, cattle culminated in a visit from Yuna.

Following his binding, Corvo began the lengthy process of finding something he liked more than human flesh. This, as it turned out, was sweets--all sweets, from pastries, to ice cream, to candy. He had never had sweets before, and everyone agreed that they suited his bubbly, affectionate personality more than human flesh anyway. He is certainly the gentlest of all of Yuna’s servants, dedicated to his family and to protecting those in need. He’s especially fond of cats.

Erebus: Known by those who worship him as the Master of Crows, Erebus is an ill-understood being. He is ancient, but has had little to do with his own kind since time out of mind. Instead, he appears to have become so entwined with his worshipers that he can no longer live without their faith to sustain him. During the Northern Crusades, a great many of them were persecuted for their faith, and Erebus fell into a centuries-long slumber. Only when his followers began to grow in number again did he wake--and command those loyal to him to seek vengeance for their fallen brethren. Naturally, Yuna had a thing or two to say about that.

Erebus is highly asocial, but does not dislike his coworkers. It would be a stretch to say he views them as family; even so, he gets along well with them on the rare occasion Yuna can talk him out of his comfortable pocket of darkness. As the oldest of his colleagues, he is respected and even admired, but he cares little for the love of his own kind. He desires mortal love, which he receives through his worshipers. Due to their number still being relatively low, you’ll rarely catch him awake. Only Yuna seems able to rouse him, and only because Yuna is his “most cherished one”.

Mage: A troublemaker with a bark worse than his bite--but he can and will bite, so mind your fingers. Like Dr. Callaway, his true name is known only to Yuna. His coworkers know him as Mage, taken from Magenta, the name of the rather nasty chemical he produces to draw in his prey. He doesn’t harm them, but he has seduced many a married man away from his wife. Causing strife among couples is what he does best. As an incubus, he finds the taste of a married man’s energy too sweet to resist. So, of course, when he found himself seduced by Yuna, he was completely baffled--and absolutely obsessed. He still toys with married men now and then, when he gets the chance, but spends most of his time trying to talk Yuna back into bed.

Though rare, Mage can be persuaded to bust heads, and does so with the best of ‘em. He’s highly territorial, meaning that although he rather likes his colleagues, he often tangles up with them over Yuna’s affection. He is particularly hostile toward Nihil, who rather delights in teasing Mage with his closeness to their master. Outside of his romantic conflicts with his housemates, he tends to be rather lackadaisical, spending much of his free time lounging on every comfortable surface available. People find his presence enjoyable due to his easygoing disposition and passion for mischief.

Nihil: Of all the demons under Yuna’s employ, Nihil is the one who has come closest to winning his heart. Theirs is a strangely intimate relationship, one which Yuna insists is platonic--and yet, Nihil is at his side always, his obedient shadow. Of course, they weren’t always so close. Nihil is an inherently violent, cruel man whose sole purpose in life is to cause as much pain and grief as he possibly can. He is absolutely, positively insane, for no other reason than this is how he believes a demon should be. This is his aesthetic, and a demon’s aesthetic is absolute. He minds his P’s and Q’s now that he’s bound to Yuna, but never lets his “family” forget what he is, Yuna least of all.

Nihil loves no being, except, by his own admission, Yuna. He teases his master constantly, always pushing his limits, always pushing his buttons. “I am your loyal dog,” is a favorite line of his, spoken, with a pointed smile, whenever Yuna asks something of him. For some reason, it never fails to fluster Yuna, which allows Nihil to worm himself further into his darling’s heart. Unlike his colleagues, he is not afraid to get physical with Yuna, and many of their more heated arguments have ended in the bedroom. Whether Nihil actually enjoys servitude remains to be seen, but for Yuna, he would pull the moon from the sky.

Pox: The general consensus on Pox is “unfriendly, but not unbearable”. A life of self-isolation has made him difficult to approach, even more difficult to befriend, especially given that everyone he’s ever loved, he has killed. He is a demon of sickness, of plague and of rot, of suffering so old as to be carved into the bones of the earth. When he was young, he could not control the disease that spread from him. Though his mortal mother tried desperately to guide him, eventually, she was overcome, and Pox left the village he had once called home, now populated only by the dead and dying. He learned then that he could not live among his mother’s people, but he knew nothing of his father’s. Rather than seek them out and put them at risk as well, he exiled himself to the outskirts of human society, interacting with it only when necessary. With time, he came to understand his power, and was able to control it--but his peaceful life came to an end when one of the few humans he had allowed himself to love was killed in a botched robbery. Pox designated himself judge, jury, and executioner, and it wasn’t long before Yuna showed up on his doorstep.

Pox hides his self-loathing under a cold, hard outer shell. His mask is flawless, perfected through a lifetime of guilt, and he allows no one near enough to break it. His coworkers believe that they are despised by him, but in truth, he loves each of them with every inch of himself. Saying so is difficult, though, and such an admission would only encourage them to endanger themselves. He may be in complete control of his magic most days, but there are times even now when he catches himself slipping. He is desperate to protect Yuna and the strange family they have all built together, so much so that he would rather suffer in silence than risk their lives asking for help.

Seta Sericum: The peculiarity of his name has led to his coworkers calling him Silky, a moniker which he has accepted only begrudgingly. Silky is a Nephalem, the product of a love between angel and demon. Typically, his fathers’ love for one another would have ended in tragedy, but the two stayed together even after their angelic half was cast from divinity. Silky was raised in a happy home, albeit a mobile one; his fathers couldn’t risk staying in one place for too long, lest the Church track them down. Ultimately, it was the Church, their greatest fear, that was their end. They were cut down while protecting Silky, who was forced to flee in the vain hope that his absence might somehow save his fathers. The Church searched for him, but he had hidden himself well. Now an orphan, he swore vengeance on his parents’ murderers--and he got it too, once he was old enough to control his immense magical power. He despises the Church, but killed only those among its ranks who had directly harmed him. Regardless, Yuna came for him, and he submitted to servitude as recompense.

Silky’s demonic father was a real fop of a man, and his son is no different now that he’s had a chance to adjust to a normal life. He insists that everyone pull their own weight, that everything be in its place at all times, and has a fondness for indulgences such as expensive wine and imported chocolates. Without these little luxuries, he would surely have gone mad, for both his mischievous master and his trouble-making housemates frustrate him to no end. He has tried, with mixed success, to serve as a role model for them, but, oh, they are all such children. Dovey is far too naive, Dr. Callaway is far too sadistic, Corvo is far too oblivious, Mage is far too flirtatious, Nihil is far too violent, Pox is far too cold, and Vincent is far too reclusive. Erebus, at least, is well-behaved, though Silky thinks he could stand to mingle more with the group.

Vincent Blythe: On the forefront of medical progress during the Victorian Era, Dr. Vincent Blythe has become little more than a shell of his former self. When his prostitute mother was murdered by one of her stags, something snapped in him. He began targeting, torturing, and finally killing any man who frequented brothels or whom he had seen with street-walkers, believing himself to be the protector of his mother’s people. It was only then when he realized he was something more than human. His father, it turned out, had been a demon who had fallen terribly in love with his mother, but whose feelings had been spurned by her. After receiving a near-fatal wound in a skirmish with a prominent vampire hunter of the day, Vincent tucked himself away in a dark corner of London to heal. He slept for over a century, and when he woke, attempted to pick up where he’d left off. Confused, his trauma still fresh in his mind, he killed all who drew near. Phone calls were made, flights were booked, and Yuna arrived on scene to bring him back to his senses.

Vincent is terribly withdrawn. On the one hand, he is distrustful of all humans, and men in particular frighten him. On the other hand, he has had little to no experience with his own kind, and so struggles to fit in among them. He finds himself at an impasse, unable to shake the trauma of his mother’s murder, and equally unable to bond with his father’s kin. Because of this, he is prone to bouts of violent madness when he feels that he is being threatened, or when he wakes from particularly vivid nightmares, in which he witnesses his mother’s murder and can do nothing to stop it. Dr. Callaway has oft remarked that Vincent is a genius, a true medical prodigy, and that it is too bad he’s so “broken”.

#picrew #male ocs #demon ocs

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burningpaths-ffxiv · 3 years

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FFXIV WRITE 2021 // Prompt #20 Petrichor

🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑

Trigger Warning - NOTHINGGGG BWUAHAHAHAHA

Too early in the morning, a rustle from outside the pinned and tethered dark canvas stirred the half-asleep form inside. His senses tuned in to the continuing scuffling sound, bare fingers flexing on the thick blanket under him, still covered by his thin sheet. If something - or someone - was going to sneak up on him inside his tent while he was sleeping, they were in for a sincerely unfortunate morning.

Movement stirred in the barest light from the visible horizon outside outlining the opening to his makeshift tent. Shear’s mismatched, sunset toned eyes peeled open to stare towards it. A silhouette, belonging to a thickly bundled, furry brown tail wriggled as a small head set with beady eyes peered into and sniffed at the dark confines of the tent cautiously.

Shifting his legs to create a sudden movement, the squirrel squeaked and darted out from the entrance of his tent, fleeing into the still mostly dark but slowly greying morning. The sore viera listened awhile to be certain it was just the squirrel he’d heard.

Assured by the lack of continuing rustling, he stretched then on the blanket-covered ground and yawned wide, flexing his still-bruised jaw as it creaked. Sitting up slowly, his bandaged torso held a dull ache that was easier to withstand this morning than it had been the morning prior.

Shuffling his sheet aside and scooting nearer to the pack tucked at his feet, the man flipped open the flap of the tooled leather. Digging for a canvas bag within and setting it aside once found, his hands bundled his blonde hair up that swept past his shoulders with an elastic pink ribbon off his wrist. Breathing in a calming breath filled with the smells of the cedar and soil, his attention turned to the bandages wrapped carefully around his form.

Taking care not to yank if something stuck - which thankfully this morning it didn’t - the bandages were gingerly unwound. The ointment smeared pads of gauze under them removed delicately and set aside with the used bandages to discard later. Inspecting the healing swipe of claws on his side, left from the Shroud beastkin he’d put down during the night a week prior, they had finally sealed over completely along the edges of the tears in his skin. They had also only stopped seeping into his bandages yesterday, and he was glad he didn’t need to soak them to get them off, unlike his previous mornings.

Yet again during his week of recovery he was grateful to the tiny lalafellan woman in Bentbranch who’d urged him into buying a few potions and a clotting ointment. The kind-eyed woman had patted his bicep leaning on the counter and nudged the set with extra bandages towards his waiting purchase. “A discounted deal for the whole lot of it, just in case, yeah?”

He thought she’d just been a kind, if overcautious, business woman. Turns out, he’d vastly underestimated what would happen if a hungry jackal came tearing out of the bushes at him, claws first. She, at least, preemptively had not - for his sake.

Staring at those healing wounds while quietly reminding himself to send her flowers later as a ‘thank you’ when he was back in Gridania proper, Shear shook his head and sighed at nothing in particular.

He’d struggled through a fever the days following the attack that he’d had to handle by himself. Upon realizing the fever had set in, and he was going to quickly run the supplies down he’d hiked up this mountain with to its meager remainders if he pushed himself too hard, he took stock of what he’d had. Deciding to just camp where he’d stopped rather than try to make the rest of the journey sick and injured.

When he had broken the fever and felt a bit more like himself, he’d focused his mind the day before on the task of counting back through his supplies. Thankfully, he still had at easily two days' materials for food and bandages left, as well as a full canteen of water. The pot he’d boiled the prior evening aught still be on his fire to refill it when his morning cleaning routine, tea, and meal were finished.

Pulling the full canteen, two ointment containers, and a strip of clean gauze from the canvas bag, he cleaned his fingers first before smearing ointment from the container marked with a red sticker on his healing wounds. Pressing new gauze along his injuries and rewrapping himself up gingerly, he took his time with the motions so as to not reopen them. What lingering scrapes and bruises he could see had a different ointment applied, that from the green stickered container. Since those had already mostly healed, he slipped an oversized shirt over his head from his pack to cover them rather than waste more of his remaining clean bandages.

Although the shirt itself was quite a few turns old, it was clean and the fabric of the shirt was still soft. Shear ran the aged edge of its hem between two fingers a moment with a melancholy smile. Releasing the fabric and packing his aid supplies back into the canvas bag, that was set back into his pack and the tooled leather opening flapped closed.

The soiled bandages and gauze were bundled neatly, carried out with the canteen as the viera crawled from his tent into the dewy morning air. The canteen was set next to the dry, blackened remains of his fire from the night before. Pivoting on his heel, he carried the bundle left in his hand a bit aways from his camp by the light of a flickering flame held in his free hand.

Travelling a few fulms from his camp, the viera knelt. His illuminating hand raised to light his work and set the bundle beside his knee. He dug his palm claws first into the ground at the base of one of the Shroud’s massive cedar trees, scooping soil to form a deepening hole. The viera piled the soil beside his other knee before stuffing the bandages into the hole in the ground, sweeping the previously scooped soil back over them and patting the surface flat. Snuffing the flame after standing to relieve himself beside the tree in the barely discernible darkness of the very early morning, he lit the flame back to life in his hand and returned to his tiny camp.

A bit later, his small fire was crackling merrily behind him as it fed on the old, discarded twigs, dry leaves, and broken branches he’d collected for its fuel. The flames heated more water for his morning oats as he stepped away to not watch it come to a boil. One of his prized, remaining mugs filled to the brim with steeping tea clasped between both hands, he pressed a shoulder to rest along the bark of one of the many trees around him at the edge of the cliff he’d camped on. He stood a few fulms from where his tent lay strung up and tethered against the side of a fallen cedar, the view down the rest of the rising hill and over the distant road below ideal for both potential unwelcome visitors as well as the view over the boughs to the horizon.

But today he wasn’t watching the road warily for travelers heading up his side of the mountain. He eyed the leafy tops of the boughs rustling below in the sea of jade spread out from him, inhaling deep. The collecting soft grey clouds blocked the rising sun, heralding a wet day coming and casting the already dim morning to a heavily shadowed, breezy one.

Sipping his tea before pulling the bag and discarding the tiny paper sachet of medicinal leaves over the edge where he stood, Shear heard the plopping droplets of rain above him before he felt them. His tongue ached for sugar he didn’t have that might help the bitterness from his tea not taste quite so strong, but he drank all of the tea back as the rain began falling steadily overhead.

The engagement with the beastkin had been an unfortunate setback to reaching one of Kalona’s old safehouses Shear still held keys to. He longed for a bath that wasn’t campfire boiled water and a washcloth. A long, soaking hot one that would ease the stiff joints gained from sleeping on the blanketed ground for so many weeks. Thoughts of a real bed to curl up in made his heart ache in his chest with longing.

Just a little further and he would have a bit of comfort available to him.

He just had to get there.

The pungent smell rising from the slowly dampening earth was a familiar one that both elated his senses but brought with it that familiar sadness. Kalona had loved the forests and jungles, and the safehouse he hiked to set deep in the recesses of the Shroud was one of his mentor’s favorites.

Well. Had been, before…

Pulling himself away from the easily spiralling thoughts of why Kalona was not joining him at the safehouse, Shear figured he could stay there awhile while he figured out where he wanted to go from there. He would have to check what resources it might have still stocked while he had supplies to spare, just in case. He’d probably hunt for local game for his meals when he was further healed.

In the worst case, if the safehouse had been cleared of anything useful or necessary already, there was a settlement back down the mountain he could resupply at if needed. Then he could just hike back up and be set for as long as the gil from his previous contract lasted him.

When the gil and his resources ran out, hopefully by then he’d already have thought of a plan for his next step.

Shear turned from the view, stepping back over to his fire and easing himself down to the ground. Surrounded by the comforting smells rising from the ground and the trees circling his area, as well as the soft sounds of rain through the trees, he poured a bit of the steaming water into his empty mug. In the remaining water he dumped a serving of his remaining oats and his last packet of dried fruit into the simmering pot. Setting the small lid over it and pulling it from the fire to set aside and cook, Shear grabbed a different bag of herbs from the small box beside his fire where his foodstuffs were tucked. Placing the bag into his refilled mug and settling it in the soil to steep beside the pot.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d stretch his supplies a bit further that day and stay longer in this comfort-smelling area to recoup himself a little while longer.

#ffxivwrite2021 #Shear Kinestti #ffxiv #new muse #tw: blood #tw: loss #tw: depression #in which i write yet another npc #jk its just a squirrel #OR IS IT #no really its just a squirrel #jk its the jackal #OR IS IT-*shot*#PROMPT 20 #petrichor

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eorzeanalmanac · 3 years

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Sastasha Seagrot - The Reaver’s Lair

Excerpt from ‘The history of Vylbrand, from Nym to Limsa Lominsa’ by Archon Niniri Niri.

An extensive system of caverns on the western coast of Vylbrand, Sastasha was carved from the rock by eons of erosion. The cave’s initial inhabitants were the sahagin, an aquatic race of spoken hailing from the depths of the Indigo Deep. Common knowledge amongst the people of Western La Noscea dictates that the sahagin used the cove as a meeting place, and that the name ‘Sastasha’ derives from this, meaning ‘many shells’ in their native language. The cove is sometimes referred to by a longer name, Sastasha Seagrot, and Seagrot is likely a portmanteau of sea and grotto, with a grotto being a partially submerged cave system.

Roughly fifty years ago the sahagin were driven from Sastasha by the dread pirate Mistbeard, who went on to use Sastasha as his base of operations on Vylbrand. The structures found within today are relics of this period, and once acted as docks, crew quarters and recreational facilities for the pirate king’s crew. This era in Sastasha’s history drew to an end when Mistbeard disappeared with little trace twenty-two years ago, heralding the descent of the Seagrot into decrepitude.

It was not long, however, until the sahagin returned to the cove, spurred on by the effects of the Seventh Umbral Calamity which decimated the race’s existing spawning grounds. They commanded the Serpent Reavers, a large crew of pirates tempered by Leviathan, to retake the Seagrot in their name. After doing so the Serpent Reavers have made it a habit of theirs to harry the people of Limsa Lominsa as much as is feasibly possible.

The Wauling Pond

Upon first entry to the Seagrot one finds themselves in the Wauling Pond, an area of raised stone pathways over a rather sizeable drop to the cave floor below, surely a consequence of the erosion that created the Seagrot. Various forms of bioluminescent flora and coral can be found within, including common brain coral species that seem to glow a soft blue or red. Odd pillars of coruscating blue light litter the area, a sure sign of the abundance of water-aspected aether within Sastasha.

While the reasons behind the name of the Wauling Pond are not immediately clear, one can make assumptions based on the evidence provided. It is well known that for some time the pirates of Vylbrand have smuggled exotic beasts onto the island and that Sastasha was home to feline beasts such as the coeurl. To waul is to screech in a mournful tone, especially when applied to felines. Although there is no outright water in this area, there almost certainly once was judging by the erosion that carved out the chamber. This then must have been a pond where the cries of the felines from deeper within could be heard.

The Cattery

Further within the Seagrot is a vast cavern, partially submerged in water. The area can accessed by a series of stone platforms joined by paths of clustered coral. The ceiling of the chamber is perforated by a series of holes which let natural sunlight into this cavern, named the Cattery. This name derives from the coeurls that are stored within the depths of the area. A secret door exists in the rock at the terminus of the cavern, accessed by a small button in the stone. This was likely engineered by Mistbeard as a method for defending his holdings and was then adopted by the Serpent Reavers.

The Rambade

There are a pair of circular chambers within Sastasha commonly called Rambades by the pirates that inhabit the Seagrot. They seem to serve as storage facilities and defensive measures, acting as an airlock manned by members of the pirate crew. The Rambade aboard a ship is an area above the artillery that acts as an area for onboard combat or as a command post. This may be a reference to the presence of the captain within the area when adventurers sent by the Maelstrom cleansed the Seagrot of the Serpent Reavers.

The Dead Man’s Drink

Deep within Sastasha are the facilities constructed by Mistbeard for his crew. The central room of the area is a large chamber with a wooden structure used as storage and as the tavern for the crews of Mistbeard and later the Serpent Reavers. A number of side-chambers branch off of the center, providing quarters for the various roles in the crew, from rowers to deckhands, navigators and even the captain. There is also an additional chamber named the Hole which reports indicate acted as the communal cell for those taken captive by the pirates.

The Sultana’s Lap and Mistbeard Cove

The end of Sastasha is found in a large cove open to the ocean, originally occupied and constructed by the docks of Mistbeard’s crew. The cove under the Serpent Reavers was home to a number of storage facility as well as the residence of the Sahagin warrior chosen to oversee the Serpent Reavers and provide strategy for their operations.

The Bestiary of Sastasha

Black Bat

Taxonomy: Cloudkin (Bat)

Description: Bats reside within the dark places of the world, roosting in caves and other secluded locales. It is common knowledge that they are nocturnal creatures, but more dedicated research by the scholars of the realm has uncovered that they are capable of feats of extremely keen hearing and a technique called echolocation. Although most bats feed on insects and fruit, folklore has long held that some of them instead feed on blood.

Cave Aurelia

Taxonomy: Wavekin (Jellyfish)

Description: Unusual creatures, dissection has demonstrated that the Jellyfish is capable of a crude form of flight by expelling gas from its body. The tendrils of a jellyfish contain potent stinging barbs which can disable their foe.

Giant Clam

Taxonomy: Wavekin (Clam)

Description: A frankly bizarre specimen, the researchers sent into the Seagrot report that these giant clams were capable of emitting clusters of minor ashkin. The mechanism for how this might be achieved would take a finer aetherologist than I to divine, but some researchers have posited that they might gather the aether of those who perish in the Seagrot as sustenance which then forms into the corpselights and are released as defensive measures.

Shade Seeker

Taxonomy: Ashkin (Will-o’-the-wisp)

Description: Amongst the simplest of the ashkin, wisps such as these are found in folk tales across the realms as lures leading the lost into further danger. Theories as to their true nature abound, however, and alternate from orbs of burning gas animated by the aether of the corpse they emitted from to the souls of the dead themselves.

Fossilshell

Taxonomy: Wavekin (Crab)

Description: Giants crabs such as these, often called snipper crabs, are abundant across Eorzea and beyond. Their strength makes them a thoroughly inconvenient food-source however, and only the qiqirn rat-folk commonly eat them due to the effort needed to pierce their iron-hard shells. The true reasons for their naming by the people of Vylbrand is unclear, but one might posit that the fossils mentioned in their name refers to the beast’s habit of consuming limestone, a rock composed of long-dead wavekin, in order to reinforce their shell.

Sastasha Orobon

Taxonomy: Wavekin (Orobon)

Description: Previously considered myth due to the only reports of their existence coming from fishermen catching sight of something in their deepest fishing nets, the orobon has since become an uncomfortable reality. They, like the sahagin and so many other aquatic creatures, have been driven to the surface by the Seventh Umbral Calamity.

Etymology Notes: The orobon, or orabau, is named for a cryptid of Brazil reported by the priest Andre Thevet in the 14th century. Most noted for being foul-tasting, the orobon was almost certainly a misidentified reptile but the name serves to reinforce the pseudo-mythical status of the orobon in Eorzea pre-calamity.

Chopper

Taxonomy: Beastkin (Coeurl)

Description: When the adventurers returned from their purge of Sastasha they reported a most unusual creature found within, a fearsome coeurl named ‘Chopper’ by the Serpent Reavers that smuggled it into the cove. Indeed, it was rumors of a wild coeurl pack within Sastasha that kept the settlers of Western La Noscea away from the cove, allowing the Reavers to settle it without conflict. These beasts are native to the Near East, and are famed for both their savagery and ability to channel lightning-aspected aether through the long appendages attached to their face.

Capabilities: According to the adventurers that slew Chopper the beast was as capable as any coeurl at channeling lightning aether through its appendages, a technique we will name ‘charged whisker’.

Scurvy Dog

Taxonomy: Beastkin (Jackal)

Description: A subspecies of the common wolf found most commonly on Vylbrand, the jackal is an expert tracker and although they are usually content to scavenge their hunger can sometimes drive them to violence. So, it seems, can, the urgings of men, as seen by the ferocity of the guard dogs of the Serpent Reavers.

Captain Madison

Taxonomy: Spoken (Hyur)

Description: The former captain of the Serpent Reavers met his end at the hands of his sahagin overlords after failing to hold off the assault of the adventurers that purged the Seagrot. Madison was famously craven but managed to rise the ranks due to his low cunning. Records held by the Admiralty at Limsa Lominsa indicate that he was a simple navigator aboard a merchant vessel with crippling gambling debts, forcing him to flee from the city. He joined the Serpent Reavers and was quickly tempered by Leviathan, albeit only very lightly.

The Serpent Reavers

Taxonomy: Spoken (Various)

Description: The Serpent Reavers are an expansive pirate crew of sailors tempered by Leviathan and used as fodder by the sahagin in their offensive against Limsa Lominsa and the Maelstrom. Their ranks appear to be organized into groups named as Shallow, and then their role. A Shallowclaw is a pugilist, for example.

Denn the Orcatoothed

Taxonomy: Spoken (Sahagin)

Description: The sahagin assigned as the overseer of the Serpent Reavers stationed in the Seagrot, Denn was a warrior of renown amongst his kin and earned the title of Orcatoothed due to his viciousness and tenacity, compared to the fearsome orca. He was also a noted strategist, and the intelligence gatherers of the Maelstrom report that it was he who was pioneer of the sahagin’s use of tempered men in their invasion of Vylbrand’s coast.

Capabilities: Denn is capable, as so many sahagin are, of using water-aspected aether to cast watery spells to damage his prey.

Baleen Guard

Taxonomy: Spoken (Sahagin)

Description: Lesser sahagin, these were likely the personal guards of Denn dispatched alongside him by the Indigo Matriarch, monarch of all the sahagin. Baleen, my fellow archons tell me, is an array of filaments used by whales to strain their food through water. This may be a metaphor for the responsibility of these guardians in filtering who is allowed access to Denn, but who can truly gauge the intentions of the sahagin.

#Sastasha #Vylbrand #Duty Guides #La Noscea #Sahagin #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv

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puk-tales · 5 years

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[LORE] Seeker of the Sun Naming Conventions

This series is a collection of Seekers of the Sun Lore from Final Fantasy XIV, meant as an archive of information.

Source: Community Rep post on the SE Forums

Miqo’te Seeker of the Sun Naming Conventions

Male

Most males have simple, one or two syllable names. The extra aitches we see in names such as “Bhee,” “Kuzh,” and “Pahsh” represent a slight hissing/spitting sound that is made when the name is pronounced by the cat-like Miqo’te. Many of the other races in Eorzea cannot accurately reproduce this sound, so the aitches end up going silent when read (Bee, Kooz, Pash).

The first name is always proceeded by a letter representing their tribe. In the mass exodus which occurred during the Fifth Umbral Era, 26 Seeker of the Sun tribes crossed the seas (which had frozen solid as a result of the Calamity) to Eorzea in search of food and warmer climates. The names of these tribes contained many sounds which were difficult to represent with the existing Eorzean alphabet; but the fact that there were the same exact number of tribes as letters in the Eorzean alphabet was taken as a sign that they were destined to make the new realm their home, and so assigned each tribe with a letter/sound that was closest to its name. Over time, this resulted in the changing of the pronunciation to more closely resemble the pronunciation of the Eorzean letter than that of the original word.

The tribe names are originally based on traditional beastkin, scalekin, or cloudkin totems, which are said to protect the tribe.

A: Antelope (pronunciation: short Ah) B: Boar (short Bee) C: Coeurl (short Ka) D: Dodo (short Deh) E: Eft (short Eh) F: Bear (short F) G: Gryphon (short, hard Goo) H: Gigantoad (short Hah) I: Buffalo (short Ee) J: Jackal (short Jah) K: Hipparion (short Koo) L: Viper (short Lee) M: Marmot (short Meh) N: Aldgoat (short N) O: Mole (short Oh) P: Basilisk (short Peh) Q: Puk (short Key) R: Raptor (short Ruh) S: Zu (short Soo) T: Condor (short Tuh) U: Drake (Ooh) V: Vulture (short Vah) W: Wolf (whort Wah) X: Lynx (short She) Y: Jaguar (short Yah) Z: Ziz (short Zoh)

Males do not take family names, as they are each considered the ‘origins’ of new families. In place of a family name, they are given a title that denotes their tribe, and their position within it. For a male Seeker of the Sun, there are only two positions available—breeding males (nunh – pronounced ‘noon’) and all others (tia – pronounced ‘tea-ah’). All males are born as tia. At any time in their lives, a tia can challenge the tribe nunh to battle. If the tia is victorious, he takes the nunh’s place as tribe breeding male (until he is challenged and defeated), and the nunh becomes a tia once again (if he survives the ordeal). This is done to ensure that the tribe’s offspring are of the finest stock. Depending on its size, a tribe may have multiple nunh (a ratio of one nunh per ten to fifty females is average).

There is only one other way a tia can become a nunh, and that is to leave his tribe, and start his own. This, of course, requires several females to accomplish, and most female Seekers of the Sun are rarely impressed by a male who cannot defeat a nunh.

Nunh status does not equate to leadership within a tribe, and in fact, very few nunh ever become leaders.

Pronunciation-wise, other than the tribe pronunciations listed above, names follow common English phonics. Though followed by an apostrophe, the tribe sound is usually flows into the name.

O’raha would be pronounced “o-RA-ha” not “OH. raha”

O’raha Tia

O’bhen Tia

U’odh Nunh

K’tyaka Nunh

Female

A female first name will always begin with the letter representing her tribe, followed by an apostrophe, and then her given name. Her last name is the first name of the tribe’s breeding male who sired her.

R'Sushmo Rhiki

Sushmo of the Raptors, sired by R’rhiki Nunh (breeding male of the Raptors)

The apostrophe pronunciation rule applies here, as well. The first name Y’shtola would be pronounced “yash-TOE-lah” not “ya. shtoe-lah”

N’bolata Raha

A’zumyn Bhen

H’amneko Odh

J’nangho Tyaka

In colloquial speech amongst close friends and companions, sometimes the tribe letter will be dropped from the first name.

F’lhammin -> Lhammin

#lore #ffxiv #final fantasy #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv crystal rp

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