Sarnai Dhoro
Of the Broken Branch
A feral child aged beyond her years by tragedy's embrace, haunted by the endless whispers of gods and painful memories, fighting to make her way through an unfamiliar world.MAJOR REWORK: Mostly finished as of May 8thCurrent unfinished sections:
Stories (2 WIPs)
Appearance♡ On First Contact: A delicious aroma of smoked meat and spices, and a Steppe accent so thick as to be almost unintelligible to those not paying attention despite her having a few years in Eorzea under her belt. A natural cheer in her voice that's impossible not to notice, almost regardless of subject matter. When the joy drops from her voice, it'd be wise to pay attention, for it's rare she cannot find something to smile about in a situation. For those who can sense aether/spirits/gods/etc, almost inaudible whispering surrounds her constantly, alongside a warm feeling and an additional scent of wild roses.♡ Upon Meeting Her Eyes: Quite short even for a female Xaela at 4'6, wispy hair currently messily dyed a pastel pink, large doll-like rose eyes, and delicate periwinkle blue skin studded by many dark blue scales and scattered pale scars. Her cheeks are chubby and round and the sides of her eyes crinkle when she smiles. A sharp observer would notice those eyes never quite seem to meet yours, instead looking right through as if you weren't even there. Sometimes, her expression will change briefly, as if reacting to something only she can hear.♡ Looking Downwards: Broad, strong shoulders support a very muscular back and arms carved from a lifetime of labor and training for war, complementing a thick, plush waist and hips from a deep love of food. She's clearly no harmless waif, even without her magic, yet she's still wonderfully soft and warm to hug. Upon looking closely, one may note she always seems to be wearing some sort of gloves or bandages on her hands. During the brief moments they're fully uncovered, dark blue painted nails and scarred fingertips can be seen.TW: GRAPHIC WOUND
TL;DR: a severely visibly disabled left leg, leading to a limp.♡ Lower Still: Soft yet powerful thighs, a nomadic life shows in her every hesitant step. The swish of fabric around her legs hides a broken, heartbreaking secret. A gait that at first could be mistaken for a simple clubfoot as her left foot drags sideways upon the ground at a deeply unnatural angle... Until a closer investigation reveals her knee and ankle are almost completely fused together into solid bone and are visibly lumpy and swollen, her leg twisting inward starting at the frighteningly mangled shin as the bone itself seems to have been reattached sideways. From her lower thigh down, her leg is also covered in deep, jagged scarring from the skin splitting open under a crushing weight. Even an untrained eye can see the nauseating crunching of bone and tearing of flesh that even the strongest magics and time never could fully heal.
Personality♡ Her heart is rebellion, streak a malm wide and a relentless fury to make Nhaama proud. Her soul is obedience, devotion, and prayer. She does not stick to the old ways, for they no longer serve her, but the elder gods are still her own.
♡ Cheeky, cheerful, charming, and yet confusing. She's scatterbrained and frequently has a quip for every situation... sometimes unintentional. Don't take it personally if you have to sit there and think hard to figure out what she's saying, she doesn't necessarily know either.
♡ Fearless to the point of what others would call stupidity. She's spent enough time hiding, all that's gotten her was the chance to watch everyone she loved die around her. She's ready to go loud, and she's made her peace with meeting her maker. She has some questions for Her, after all.Quirks♡ A phobia of anything elephantine. Marids, Matangas, and mammoths alike. For... some rather obvious reasons. She's working on it! Sorta. Kinda. Not... really.
♡ Strange gaps in her knowledge. She came from the most isolated tribe on the Steppe, she has no idea what is going on most of the time when it comes to social interactions and politics. This leads her to take a surprising amount of things in stride, assuming Eorzea is just... kinda like that.
♡ A surprising amount of wisdom. Sheltered as she's been in the details, her sharp eyes have seen much more than anyone ever thinks they have.
♡ Is learning, but still struggles to read and write beyond the basics, both having not been taught letters in her youth and having what IRL people would identify as dyslexia. Her Eorzean letters wobble across the page, get transposed, upside down, backwards, and her reading level is picture books and shopping lists.
♡ 100% food motivated and can out-eat a grown Roegadyn. Nearly always carrying food on her person.
♡ Has a beloved sheep named Argali brought with her from the Steppe. Yes, she will bring him up at the slightest opportunity.
♡ Even if she looks unarmed, no she isn't. While the Dhoro were never the mightiest of tribes, she's never been foolish enough to go somewhere without any way to protect herself.
BiographyBorn in the Azim Steppe somewhere around twentyish-odd years ago, for most of her life she lived how she was expected. She diligently studied herbs and the magical arts under the current Udgan, hid from all who were not Dhoro, and aided her tribe in its hunts and (relatively rare, only when completely unavoidable) battles. After all, a smaller tribe like the Dhoro needed everyone and everything they could get to stay alive and hidden. That was, until the accident.She'll tell you about it if you ask nicely, but it's not a happy tale, and certainly one that could make the faint of heart regret their curiosity. She'd much rather talk about that group of odd strangers who inspired her to adventure across, and eventually away, from the Steppe. She saw them one day from far away, while she was trapped in her camp unable to join them.Weaponry she had never seen before, a language she had never heard, and completely missing scales. She never caught up with that odd group, but it solidified a desire in her heart to see more. Waiting until the others were asleep and it was her turn on the watch, she woke her beloved sheep from his slumber and slowly made her way towards the lights of Reunion, leaning on him for support along the way.She doesn't quite remember how she ended up on a ship to Eorzea, she just knows she eventually, after a chocobo cart or two, was dropped off in a city surrounded by more trees than she had ever seen in her life with a kindly Elezen woman saying words to her she did not understand and giving her food. Eventually, she ended up at the Conjurer's guild who taught her Eorzean as best as they could and helped her get set up with basic needs.In search of money she signed up to become a retainer, eventually quitting in a rather spectacular fashion when she got sick of it. These days, she runs a very small clinic named Sheep's Heart out of a small house in The Goblet, tucked away in a hidden corner by the cliffs, specializing in not asking too many questions and a very delicious rotating soup of the day. When not either trapped in her clinic beneath the weight of injured mercenaries or going between various settlements treating whatever malady has befallen the locals lately, she largely just lurks around Eorzea, doing various tasks and odd jobs for spare gil, practicing her magic, gathering ingredients for food and medicine, occasionally setting things on fire (usually accidentally), and chatting up strangers.
Stats:Constitution: ♡♡♡
Strength: ♡♡♡♡
Dexterity: ♡
Intelligence: ♡♡
Wisdom: ♡♡♡♡
Charisma: ♡♡♡♡♡Skills:♡ Bilingual: She speaks (occasionally strangely worded) Eorzean and an older dialect of Xaelic. People who've learned the language not by immersion may struggle to understand her at times, and her rough accent makes her stand out even in a crowd of black scales.
♡ A variety of magics: Fire, wind, earth, thunder, water, ice. She's able to swap between elements as needed, though usually prefers using wind and fire by default. As of late though, she's been seen using more unaspected magics that are oddly similar, yet distinct, from Sharlayan soumanotics.
♡ An instinct for survival: Knowledgeable about a wide variety of herbs, wild foodstuffs, beasts, and ways to avoid being attacked by said beasts, she's visibly more at home in the wilderness than she is in the city.
♡ Healing: A skilled medic, able to treat a majority of wounds by herself and stabilize some of the most severe injuries. She uses a mixture of magic and medicines, finding that they usually give the best results.
♡ Invisibility: Pricking her fingertips with sacred knives, a murmured prayer to Nhaama causes her and any allies touching her to fade from view, passed down from one Dhoro udgan to another. The price for such magics, however, is steep, as the Dusk Mother is not always known for her gentle mercy.
♡ Minor precognition: The gods are always whispering in her ears. Occasionally, they see fit to provide her a warning a few seconds before something happens or when the supernatural occurs. (Plot device for long term adventures with a DM or preplanned RP hooks)Combat:While not the strongest solo fighter in the world, she can easily prove to be a nasty surprise to anyone who challenges her. A nasty surprise with a tendency to cloak herself and her surroundings in flame, charging directly at an opponent in a manner quite surprising to those expecting your average healer. Her dodging capabilities are crippled (quite literally) and severely limited so she has learned to stand her ground and throw her weight around to deliver stunning blows worthy of someone over thrice her size to complement her skill with offensive and defensive magics.Her style is based on blocking oncoming attacks and damage rather than avoidance, and using her momentum to her advantage by putting all of her power behind a headbutt to the ribs or a kick to the knee. Unarmed, she tends to go for a grapple, using her weight to bring her opponent to the ground with her to make her mobility a non-issue. She also has a tendency to fight dirty, incorporating bites and claws into things. She does her best to remember herself in a friendly fight, but accidents happen. Said accidents have surprisingly pointy lizard teeth. She also uses the terrain to her advantage, kicking up massive dust clouds to block vision, setting grass on fire to control enemy movement, and trying to draw people onto rough ground to throw off people who focus on mobility.Someone who tries to orchestrate a sneak attack on her will find it futile, as most of her life was spent mastering it alongside her magic. She has an innate understanding of how to detect other entities cloaked by magic, and keen senses always tracking every entrance to a room and any changes in the environment around her. Ambushing her is a fool's errand, and is more likely to result in an unexpected blow from her fists or magics at point blank than it is to result in a successful takedown.
Inventory♡ A mask shaped like the skull of a horned beast to be worn when guiding her flock, with a plate made of carved ivory set in sturdy metal. Occasionally, she can be seen holding it in her hands, gazing at it in a lingering sorrow.♡ A small one-handed axe, handy for anything from gathering wood, chopping down thorns blocking a path, or skinning a hunted beast.♡ A set of Sage's nouliths, paired with a complimentary soul stone. While her movements with them are still clumsy, she's continually improving and is not to be underestimated with the notoriously tricky weapons. Though, those of Sharlayan may note that they don't ever remember seeing her there before...♡ A pair of ritual knives passed down through generations. Clearly tools with their strange, slightly curved shape, not weapons, the only living blood they have ever drawn is that of their masters, current and prior. They almost hum with magic to those who are sensitive to that sort of thing.♡ A leather folder containing a wealth of knowledge on herbs and medicines, featuring detailed pictures of each plant along with star charts, weather information, and even occasionally hunt bills and other codexes on wildlife. On each page, there's scribbled hearts, arrows, stars, and body parts, a code that makes no sense to anyone but the doodler.♡ A small bag containing a writing charcoal, as well as a few sheets of paper. Sometimes these sheets are blank, sometimes they contain a strange butchering of Eorzean letters.♡ Small woven bags of heavily spiced jerky made of various beasts, delicious cheeses, and dried fruits, ready to be eaten (or shared) at any time. Regardless of her attire, she'll find some way to ensure she has extra snacks.♡ Bottles and jars of herbal medicines and first aid supplies. Obviously, what she carries depends on her current activity. She'll carry just a simple anti-bacterial salve in case of scrapes while wandering around town, while bringing an impressive array of potions and lotions when adventuring or on a leve.
♡ Sheep's Heart Clinic ♡
Mateus, Goblet
Plot 28, Ward 29
Goblet SoutheastA small building in a Hingan style that's barely identifiable as a hospital from the outside, Sarnai runs a one-doctor operation aiming to ensure nobody is denied the care they need, regardless of wealth, social status, or what exactly it is one did to need care in the first place. There are many ways to hear of the clinic, from word of mouth to the curiously homemade "business cards" she'll occasionally hand out at venues or pin to the information boards in various settlements.Upon walking up its steps, one comes across an intricate gate, opening to welcome visitors inside. The yard is small, full of various flowers, edible crops, and growing medicinal herbs. Fresh, pleasant smelling bedsheets and towels gently wave in the wind, drying from the wash. On the right, a steaming onsen tucked into the shade beckons weary travelers, alongside a well-worn, mildly scorched striking dummy and a stable that often has a fluffy sheep snoozing peacefully inside. On the left, a small kiln lightly burns, containing various meats that are being slowly prepared for transformation into her signature jerky, and a small tent provides an outdoor waiting area for when privacy is required inside. A signboard sits in front of the entrance, plastered with information about where the doctor can be found and when, alongside some simple information about taking care of your health like protecting against the sun and boiling water. Sometimes, the signboard is instead covered solely with a drawing of a sheep, for when she doesn't wish to be found.Upon stepping foot inside the door, the building's purpose becomes clear. The comforting smell of warm soup cooked over an open fire drifts through the air, with the occasional sharpness of medicinal herbs and sweetness of roses coming through depending on where you stand. Sliding doors on one side of the room provide privacy to the patient beds within, and the other side contains a cozy waiting area with some seating and a comforting hearth to soothe one's worries. The pair of beds, one closer to the entrance and beneath a window for access to soothing light, and the other tucked further into the corner for those who don't want to be found, are clean, a soft scent of soap coming from soft, white sheets. Upon one wall of the waiting area, pinned up notices and an open book lay upon a table, containing various bounties, rumors, and odd job requests that other patrons have pinned up or that Sarnai herself had heard about while in the city. She certainly won't force anyone, but it'll ease some of her worries if someone happens to take a job or two off the board to complete for her. After all, she's a busy woman, and can't always handle everything people need done... but she's sometimes a bit nosy, and certainly would be interested in hearing how it went. Consider it payment for the treatment and medicine one has received.Past the waiting room lies Sarnai's desk, positioned to keep an eye on both her patients and the door. A scheduling book sits on the wall beside her, with notes about the purpose of the visit with varying levels of detail. Some names are carefully blacked out, becoming completely and utterly illegible. Other entries go even further, and are completely struck from record. After all, as nosy as she is, she does value her patients privacy. On her desk proper lies varying bottles that, upon further inspection, contain supplies for making tea, alongside a kettle for boiling water. Nobody goes without a drink on her watch. A microscope and a book on medical practices covered in indecipherable scribbles sit beside her, with more medical tools littered inside the drawers. Around her is more drawers, cabinets, and shelves covered in more medicines. Various books are also scattered about, some piled high in a corner. When looking closer, the books are of all sorts of random contents and genres, from children's stories to medical journals to bestiaries from far off lands. A curious thing to have for someone as illiterate as Sarnai, but somehow they keep finding their way to her. If someone finds what they need in the pile, she'll happily let them check it out for a while. Atop the shelf behind her there's also a toy box and a plush shark, which she pulls out for comforting sick children.Behind her desk is a doorway blocked off by a curtain, though the sign above it clearly labels it off-limits to patients. When peeking at the right angle, one can see a cozy chair in the shape of a carbuncle, next to a small shrine dedicated to the gods of the Azim Steppe. If the doctor is missing from her desk, she can occasionally be spotted instead in the carbuncle chair, either praying or having accidentally fallen victim to a nap. Of course, knocking on her desk to let her know someone is there is significantly less likely to lead to singed eyebrows if she is, in fact, snoozing.Ideas for Treatments:
♡ General Practice: Regular checkups, prescriptions for common ailments and mild chronic conditions, long-term wellness advice.
♡ Emergency: Battlefield healing, hunts/heists gone wrong, bedside care.
♡ Recovery: Physical therapy, chronic pain relief, comforting baths and soup.
♡ More... unusual care: Given her position as a doctor for those who can't get care elsewhere, she's seen her share of surprises. She'll figure something out.
♡ Just Visiting: Helping her clean up the clinic, playing with the sheep, yapping as she preps for the day.Ideas for Payments:
♡ Rumors and information, regardless of what it's about. She'll find a use for it.
♡ Books, whether or not they're typically "useful".
♡ Taking a job off the board in the waiting room, especially if you make sure to come back alive afterwards.
♡ Lessons on whatever you can offer, whether it's martial skills, magic, a new recipe, or local knowledge.
♡ Cooking ingredients, especially those suited for soup.
HooksCommon
♡ Scales, Black As The Night
Very visibly Xaela, with an exceedingly thick accent. Always happy to meet fellow children of Nhaama, even those disconnected from the land of their ancestry.♡ A Mage By Any Other Name
A magic user by trade, trained as an udgan for the Dhoro but always continuing her education. Lately, she's mostly been seen messing around with what appears to be a set of nouliths, but she's also been spotted in the past wielding a staff with a horned skull atop it. Anyone with skill in the various magical arts, either healing or harming, will find her an attentive student.♡ Less Gil, More Problems
Somehow, even with her severe lack of free time, she's always looking for jobs to take. Whether you need a messenger, a more subtle yet still effective bodyguard , a nature guide, a scout that can get in and out unseen, a hunter-tracker of man or beast, or a healer, she's willing to listen.♡ A Spot of Trouble
Authority and her can have a bit of a... tumultuous relationship, her having little patience for those trying to use their position to get one up over others. She's had a few clashes with Ul'dah's various law enforcement groups starting from the moment she's stepped anywhere near the city, but nobody's ever been able to prove she did anything wrong. For all they know, she just happened to be nearby when things went down, they had the wrong guy, or it was self defense. All charges, of course, have been dropped, but it's not uncommon for Brass Blades to keep a careful eye on her.♡ Doctor On Call
While not officially part of any grand company, she has and continues to do work for them on occasion, as the Immortal Flames always seem to have a healer shortage. Ranging from little things like taking in extra patients after a Flames operation gone wrong, to even a short deployment in Garlemald to aid with recovery efforts, she has done her part for the Flames.Uncommon
♡ Treatment, No Questions Asked
She runs her own clinic in the Goblet (Mateus, Ward 29 Plot 28). She's known for never asking what happened, charging "favors" instead of gil, and for specializing in treating more... interesting ailments and patients. And also a really good soup. A really, really good soup.♡ Now You See Me
She seems, sometimes, to know things that she shouldn't. Things spoken in back alleys with no witnesses, histories left behind in the sands, and names murmured by lips grasped in the merciless hand of delirious fever. Maybe she knows something for you. Or, about you. (Please send me a tell OOC if you want to use this one!)♡ Now You Don't
For the right price or the right cause, Sarnai can put her more specialty talents to use. It doesn't take much thought to realize how her mastery of stealth and unassuming appearance can be used for a variety of tasks, from spying to theft.Rare
♡ A Tragedy Under Moonlight's Gaze
One horrible night, around five/six years ago, bloodcurdling screams rang through the Steppe as a bull mammoth of fearsome, unholy reputation went on a rampage. An unforgettable moment for any witnesses, with one sole survivor.♡ Sister, Where Did You Go?
It's not every day a close knit, reclusive tribe like the Dhoro have a runaway, especially one as rare as an udgan near the end of her training. While things have changed in the three-fourish or so years since she left, her accent will always tell a tale of who she is.OOC
♡ Player goes by Rose, if you're wanting a name to separate OOC and IC.
♡ The Player is nonbinary and prefers they/them pronouns. The character is a woman and uses she/her pronouns.
♡ Not interested in any romance or adjacent RP, nor ERP!
♡ Mature/dark themes occasionally present
♡ Medical RP will be a bit of a back and forth OOC, both to establish limits and comfort levels on things like gore and such, and to define what kinds of things you'd like her to discover and treat.
♡ Combat ok, but no permanent injury without prior agreement.
♡ NA Pacific timezone.
♡ I'm on console with rural internet, I type slowly and I have technical difficulties occasionally so sorry if I take a bit to respond or randomly jump! I swear I'm not ignoring you.
♡ If you're any type of -phobe, racist, sexist, or ableist I will destroy you on the spot. :) Do not even try it.
Random screenshots without a story behind them go here!
A collection of stories featuring the small lizard, mostly from her past, roughly in chronological order. To be updated randomly with no rhyme nor reason.Obviously, these do reveal parts of her history (though not everything, and not necessarily her perspective on it), so if you're someone who only wants to find stuff out through RP, skipping these is advised.Some stories may contain spoilers for the FFXIV storyline or darker themes, so read at your own risk!
"It's an auspicious omen, you know." A young Sarnai startled, looking up at the elder udgan standing beside her, before returning her attention to the newborn lamb she was cleaning under the watchful eyes of the flock's ewes, tenderly clipping the cord that once kept him fed with her iron scissors and wiping his face clear of the fluids of birth. "An omen? Of what? He's just a baby." The elder smiled, a wrinkled hand reaching down to ruffle the youth's white hair. "Yes. Twins are rare enough among our flock, but triplets? Especially with all three hale and hearty, and a quick and easy birth at that." The lamb lifted his head, gazing up at the pair of Xaela, before letting out a small baa, as if he wished to add his own commentary. "You should take him as a pet, he seems to like you more than his own mother. Perhaps he thinks you are a sheep as well, with that messy white fluff you call hair." Sarnai scrunched her face together at the comparison, before lifting the little lamb towards the sky, to be blessed by the moon's gaze. "I suppose I wouldn't mind having a little companion... But you still haven't answered my question, and you've been my master long enough that I know you're still hiding something." The udgan-in-training braced herself, closing her eyes as she prepared for the consequences of being so blunt with her elder."You're right." Her master's grim tone led Sarnai to open her eyes as she stood up with the lamb cradled in her arms, only for the young girl to be rendered speechless upon realizing her mentor, ever calm, ever reliable, appeared to be on the verge of tears. "I had a vision during my prayers this morning." The elder reached for the lamb, gently patting his head as her voice trembled, nearly imperceptible if you didn't know her inside and out. "I know you are only barely sixteen summers, but... I have a favor to ask of you. To walk in the steps of Bardam, and be chosen as a warrior of the Steppe."Sarnai's face turned to confusion at this point, as she tilted her head to the side. "The Mettle? But... why would we need warriors for the Naadam? The other tribes are brutal and relentless, like you've told me countless times as you drilled that invisibility spell into my skull." The elder chuckled briefly at the thought, before shaking her head. "Nothing of the sort. No, not the Naadam, but... something is coming. In my vision, I couldn't see what was happening, all I could hear were screams... A few of our scouts have reported that the Dotharl have started their migration once more and are making their way this direction from the southwest desert, and I fear that even fleeing their onslaught will not be enough to save us from their relentless warriors."She turned away from Sarnai, waving for the younger to follow as she headed towards the edge of the cliff overlooking where the desert bled into the sea of grass. "I'm sure our shepherd has finished with your help, we shall discuss your trial." Sarnai gently set down her lamb, with a brief (failed) attempt to shoo him towards his mother. The shepherd, laughing, came and retrieved the newborn. "Sarnai, don't worry about this little guy. Uh, what name do you want me to tag him with? So we remember to give him back when he's weaned?" She thought for a moment... "Uuh... Sheepy? I'm sorry, now's..." He shook his head, turning her and pointing her towards the retreating elder. "That first, we can figure the name thing out later." Mouthing her thanks, she jogged to catch up to the surprisingly spry old lady."But, why me? Aren't there those more suited? I mean, I can hardly hit the broad side of a stationary chuulu with a bow, let alone anything else, and my swordmanship is... better not spoken of." The elder paused, looking over the horizon. "There's more than just strength of arms to conquering the Mettle, my dear. Your magic, even as young as you are, is capable of far more than just healing wounds and hiding hunting parties, and your cunning should never be underestimated." White brows furrowed as Sarnai thought for a moment, before responding in concern. "But my training... I feel as if there's still so much for me to learn." The elder finally turned, smiling, but with grief in her eyes. "And that is why you are well suited for this, for you know and are ready to learn. I'm not going to just shove you in there, don't worry, we're going to practice hard until both your defensive and offensive magics are things for the other tribes to fear." She tapped her staff a few times against the ground before turning back to face the horizon, a dismissal Sarnai had seen thousands of times over her near decade with her mentor.After the youth's departure, the tears that had been brewing since before the conversation started finally broke, rolling down scaled, wrinkled cheeks. Lying to her faithful, dutiful student, even in the smallest ways, gripped her heart in sadness, but how could she tell the truth of why she had been chosen? As the elder gazed out towards the rising sun, she questioned if she had prevented the vision from coming to pass, or if her attempts to avert fate were futile, as the horrific screams of the child she considered her own ringing out over the Steppe played over and over in her mind. "Nhaama, I beg you... Please keep her safe." She kneeled, looking to her tribespeople as if she's honoring Azim's blessing, while instead she silently wept for her people's, and her pupil's, unknown future.
Lorem Ipsum or whatever lmao, working on it, I told u it was a wipIntent: A tale of how a wee Dhoro girl, a tender 16 years of age, conquered Bardam's Mettle and became a Warrior of the Steppe.Current Progress: First Draft, making it into writing instead of bullet points
Under cover of the Dusk Mother's grace and ancient magics, they plucked herbs from the earth. (First, there was seven.) The Dusk Mother demands a price for her magics. A heavy boot, on a frail wooden stick. Carelessness. Not worthy of her children.c r a c kThe enchantment fades, the contract broken. Prelude to tragedy, a bull mammoth lays eyes on the group. (Not a mammoth, a demon. A punishment clad in pelt and ivory.) Girimekhala. No prayers are left, the elders had warned them.Dusk Mother, beloved Mother, forgive us.He charged. (Then, there was six. Then five. Then four.) Screams ring through the air, as the Dusk Mother watches mercilessly. Heavy footfalls crush, tusks glistening against the night sky, painted red with blood. (It would have been a sight of beauty.) A brave man, a dead man, spear in hand, stands against the oncoming beast. He yells to run, to leave them behind. (Not that there's much point in staying behind for men with no heads, no spines, their entrails spread across the ground.) Two grab one, and flee. (Then there was three.)A bellowing roar, a broken spear sticking from his hide.Their injuries were great. Yet, hers were survivable. (We must save her, we must!) Every step they take, every step, fought for. Vision swimming red with blood and pain with every step. A woman without an arm, painting the ground behind them. A man whose stomach was opened, holding on to keep himself together. A girl, a young girl, a warrior for only a moon, whose leg will never be the same again.Was I not a good servant, Mother?She awoke. She was alone. She looked to the elder, she still had hope. (Her heart hadn't been broken yet. No, not just yet.) The elder shook her head.I'm sorry.(And then there was one.)
The elderly udgan arose from her meditation with a start and raced out of her ger, staff in hand, as the terrifying screams of her vision once again echoed off the cliffs of the Steppe, but this time all too real as she saw others respond to the sound of her nightmares, murmurs of confusion and fear spreading across the settlement. Should we flee? Are we in danger? Where did that gathering party go, weren't they supposed to be back soon? The udgan felt a shiver run down her spine upon hearing the last one, stopping in her tracks for a moment before she ran back to her ger to get supplies ready for whatever is to come. Huffing, she tried to purge that thought from her mind, in fear that thinking it will cause it to manifest.Shortly after, three silhouettes appeared, slowly limping their way towards Dhoro Iloh. "Look! It's three of our own, but..." The watchman called, but his voice cut off as his bow clattered to the ground, his face frozen in horror. "Udgan! Please, we-" She shushed him. "Silence, I'm right here. What's the situation? You said our own?" She grabbed the spyglass from his hand, holding it up to see the direction he pointed, only for the blood to drain from her face as well. With hunters rushing past her to intercept the incoming tribesmen, all she could think of was the deep shock of dread permeating her body, settling in the pit of her stomach like a heavy stone sinking into clay, but she tried her best to ignore it for now. As the eldest udgan, she had a job to do.The udgan marched around the iloh, shoving through panicked bodies, barking orders as she struggled to hold back her own tears. "You! Fresh water, get it boiling! You! Blankets! You! Go to my tent, just bring everything that's in there, and quickly!" She directed the people, trying to staunch their terror as she herself desperately prays for what she knows to be true to somehow, by some miracle, not be. The hunters returned, holding up three wounded Dhoro, and as they came closer the udgan stumbled, as she realized how she so, so horribly misunderstood the glimpse of the future she was given.The udgan briefly studied two of the returning gatherers. One was nearly split in half across his stomach, and the other had her arm ripped off, along with most of her shoulder and part of her ribcage. They both died as soon as they stepped foot on Dhoro Iloh's soil, as if the sole thing keeping them alive was their mission. She turned away from them, as the situation was too dire even to say a prayer, and the elder looked upon her greatest fear come to life. Even covered in blood and sweat, with her sweet face twisted in fear and pain even in unconsciousness, there was no mistaking the wool white hair and skin the color of delicate flowers born by the sole survivor. The udgan fell to her knees, almost robotically treating Sarnai's wounds through the tears as her body was wracked with sobs.After nearly two bells of frantic healing pushing her to her limit, the udgan was spent, collapsing beside her injured pupil as the little lamb the girl so loved attempted to curl up against the pair as comfort. Even as weak as she was, she still worked to swap out the towel on her student's forehead. "Can't let fever set in, she's still too weak..." The udgan muttered to herself, forcing her overworked body to sit up and continue with medicines, even if she could no longer muster any magic. Looking over the still-unconcious girl, her face contorted in dismay as she noted the devastating injuries to her leg. While no longer the gruesome mass of gore and splintered bone it was, it still was nowhere near a healthy leg, twisted, broken, and covered in pale, jagged flesh that would leave lifelong scars. "Only a warrior for not even a moon... Oh, I'm so sorry, this is my fault..." Lit by firelight as a cloud passed over the moon, as if the sky itself was in mourning, the elder sat vigil over the girl, as all she could yet do was pray for her to wake, and for her to forgive her mentor for her hubris, in thinking she could somehow outwit fate.The udgan awoke, with no memory of when she fell asleep, to a few hunters of the tribe shaking her gently, faces grim. "Udgan... none of the gatherers sent out last night made it back except for Sarnai. We went out shortly after she arrived to check the direction they came from, but..." He shook his head, his expression filled with sorrow. "It looked like they had all died on the spot. The injuries were all too severe for any of them to be saved." As she sat up, she shuddered a bit before letting out a sigh. "I see. Please reunite them with the two who arrived last night, I'll... I'll get things ready to perform the rites to send them off." She gently brushed the bangs away from the young girl's face, patted the lamb that obediently stayed by her side, then stood and left her ger, closing the curtains to protect her patient against the harsh daylight. The child would need time to recover, and it'd be best she didn't have to relive that horrible night upon waking.
Loud placeholder noises!Intent: Sarnai's arrival in Eorzea, and the mild chaos she accidentally brought with her.Current progress: Rough Draft, plotting events
The swish swish of tiny hooves passing through grass slowly turns to the dull sounds of packed sand, the unforgiving sunlight bearing down on the pair as they come out from beneath the South Shroud's thick canopy. They've hardly been in Eastern Thanalan for but a few minutes, but Sarnai still swears she can feel her bare shoulders start to bake and turn new and fascinating shades of purple, her new retainer uniform made for anything BUT riding a sheep through the desert on her way to her new workplace. "<I still don't see how this attire is supposed to aid me in any way...>" She mutters her discontent to her sheep as it dutifully plods along, uncomfortably attempting to pull her top up in a futile search for modesty. A long suffering sigh as Argali baas in seeming agreement.Tippy tap, tippy tap, the pair have found their way to Highbridge. Sarnai is no more happy about her situation, hopping off her sheep with an admonishment to stay still as she approaches a merchant. The Lalafell man looks up at her, confusion visible on his face. "W... water? Trade?" She offers the man her food in exchange, to which he scoffs. "If you want free water, there's a river down there. Don't bother me if you don't have any gil." He turns away, focus back on his merchandise in that way that indicates there's no more room for discussion. A frown appears on her face as she hops back astride her sheep, taking off again.Drybone apparently also had nothing to spare for a lizard on a journey. This time, however, instead of just being ignored... she also got kicked out. Apparently, you're not supposed to have livestock inside of the tavern for some reason. Which is a very dumb rule, if you ask her.Sarnai is quite purple along her back and the bridge of her nose, near thirsty enough to drink an entire river, and thoroughly disgruntled. Well, maybe not that river, as they pass a pond filled to the brim with oversized toads. Passing through Black Brush Station, Ul'dah is finally in sight after far, far too long. Tippy tap, tippy tap of hooves passing over the Soot Creek bridge, until a Roegadyn man in mail and a distinctive mask steps into her path. "Halt!" The Hellsguard barked at her as he puffed himself up in a bid to intimidate. "Where did you get that sheep, huh? You filthy lizards can't possibly have enough gil for an animal that size and quality." She stared back at him, barely understanding the question. "Home? Steppe?" She tilts her head, hopping off Argali's back as she stands face to face with the much larger man. "Yeah right, brought it from home. And I'm the Sultana. That sheep's coming with me, unless you're willing to... pay a fine. Brass Blades gotta uphold the law, after all." Fingertips rubbing together in that telltale sign of greed, she frowns and crosses her arms defensively. "No, home.""Can't speak properly, can you? Barely better than the filthy beastmen! Better I just take it then, not like someone like you can report a complaint." Pulling out his sword and buckler, he charged at the Xaela... only to be cut short by dodging a large fireball throwing him off balance. Before he can say a word, a swing of her staff and a gust of wind sends him over the railing, splashing helplessly into the river as he sputters, dignity shattered. "Goodbye," She says, as she goes to continue her walk towards Ul'dah, Argali following behind. "Oh no you don't!" The Brass Blade charges at her again, sword slicing through the air until it collided with her cane in a block. A swift foot came from underneath, nailing him straight in the jewels. His breath flies from his body with a pathetic whine as he buckles over... her cane then firmly connecting with his skull. A loud thud and a puff of dust rose from the ground as the goliath collapsed, both unconscious and humiliated.A determined effort later, the now (mostly) naked Hellsguard snoozed peacefully on the banks of the river, partially submerged and in the shade to keep him from overheating. She wasn't a monster, after all. Her new loot, consisting of his armor, clothing, fancy mask, and gilpurse has already been swung over Argali's fluffy back as the sheep eyeballs her curiously. Looking back at him, she only has one excuse. "Gil good!" She chirps.
Shivering despite her gray, tattered layers, Sarnai wrapped her arms firmly around herself as she peered around the camp the airship had brought her to, pink eyes barely visible beneath her hat and wrapped mask. Camp Broken Glass, they called it, and the piercing, freezing wind against the small visible part of her face and crunching snow beneath her boots certainly implied that it lived up to the name. She stopped for a moment in front of the rotating aetheryte, attuning to it, and set to looking about to familiarize herself with the place. Gloomy, dark, with buildings made of cold metal and tents set up to protect various crates and barrels of supplies from the elements. Finally, the Hyurian Immortal Flames officer waving her over caught her eye, and she headed towards him as she contemplated how she got here.A week before, a private of the Flames appeared at her door, looking sheepish as he held a letter out for her. "Madam Sarnai, correct? The Immortal Flames is seeking unaffiliated healers for an ongoing operation in Ilsabard, to allow some of our own healers to return home. With the good reputation your clinic is building in the community, your name was thrown in." Sarnai blinked at him before raising a brow in curiosity and skepticism. "My... reputation." She said flatly. He visibly cringed. "We'll request the Brass Blades forgive the previous, uh... unproven charges of property damage, personnel damage, and theft, and wipe them from the record as if they never existed." She grabbed the letter from his hand, shoving it into her pocket unread. "Deal."Back to the present in Garlemald, she had now come to the realization that perhaps her agreement was a bit premature, as while she was warned it was cold, she was not warned it was so cold that her already painful leg would burn like lava, gritting her teeth to stifle a grunt as she limped before the Flame. "As quite a few of our healers are occupied with healing the remaining tempered of their affliction-" Healing the tempered? Her head tilts, pain momentarily forgotten. She had heard it was impossible to cure the tempered outside of death, though she'd be the first to admit primals weren't something she knew much about. "We'd like you to join the scavenger teams, looking for ceruleum and whatever building material can be saved. We know that you're plenty able to protect yourself as well as heal..." He shoots her a look for that one, at which she grins, only visible by the scrunching of her eyes by rounded cheeks. "So we'd have you be out there ready to join other teams to provide them with whatever aid they need, as well as clearing out magitek whenever you won't put yourself at risk to do so."Sarnai nodded at that assignment, reaching out her hand to accept the linkpearl handed to her. "Odoo, that seems like a large area to cover, though, and that... thing." She nods her head over to the Tower of Babil looming ominously in the distance. The officer looked back, and nodded. "The Tower has already been secured and the threat inside largely eliminated. You shouldn't need to worry about it. As for the distance, we've separated Garlemald into sections already and we're focusing on each section at a time, so you shouldn't need to go too far to intervene." Sarnai stretched her shoulders, nodding along as he explained further, until he dismissed her to her duty. As she left the camp, she stopped for a moment as she saw a older, tall Elezen man in a long, white coat talking to an Ishgardian knight. The man glanced over at her for a moment, smiling warmly and offering a greeting as he spotted the staff upon her back, recognizing her as a fellow healer, before turning back to his discussion of the pair's upcoming mission. She wanted to stop and question him about the unfamiliar weapons upon his back, looking as far as she could tell to be an array of four wands, how would you even use four wands at once, you only have two hands? However, her transportation was waiting, and thus she resolved to ask upon her return.Having been dropped off in her assigned section via magitek reaper ride, an experience she's not eager to repeat, Sarnai took her ram-horned staff in hand, cloaking herself with magic as she creeped cautiously around the area, scanning her surroundings for information and for things out of place. Tucking herself into a corner of a collapsed building, she whispered into the linkpearl her location to confirm. A small chorus of "Got it"s and "Copy that"s from the surrounding teams rung out on the device, as she returned to prowling. Magitek bits, satellites, and colossi roamed the pavement, clanking ominously as they patrolled for targets. Some of the larger colossi shook the ground slightly with each step, tiny pebbles jumping up as they walked. Many of these weren't entirely unfamiliar to her, whether from rogue Garlean factions attempting to continue poorly fated attacks in Thanalan, or from bits and bobs sold at various black markets by scavengers, but one thing in particular catches her attention. Carefully approaching, she frowned behind her mask as she studied the strange being. The aether coming off of it made her feel sick to her stomach, but she couldn't quite place why.An oozing, black lump of flesh covered in over a half dozen bloodshot, filmy eyes squelched as it crossed the street. Sarnai ensured she stayed a safe distance away, not sure how it functioned, as she looked at it with a worried brow. Deciding to ask, she retreated, putting a finger to her linkpearl and whispering her question. "What... are those?" After explaining what she saw, the reply that came through chilled her to the bone, more than the wind ever could. "We're not sure, but... The running theory is that they're experimental beings created by the empire whose bodies collapsed upon being tempered too deeply." Created? "Eliminate them when possible, but prioritize life and the mission." The mission, right. Stuffing down her nausea and saying a quick prayer for the... thing, she quickly broke the cloak, dispatched it with a flurry of fireballs, and smoothly returned to invisibility before the patrolling magitek could return.After a few bells of prowling the area, occasionally shoving objects of interest into the many pockets of her coat, her linkshell rang, a panicked voice coming through. "We need backup immediately! We found a survivor, he's not going to last much longer, and we have machines closing in on our position!" Sarnai immediately hurried towards the call's location, using magic to slide forward whenever the terrain would allow. As she grew closer, she realized to her horror that the building they were taking shelter in was starting to crumble, leaning more and more with each heavy, ground-shaking footstep of the approaching magitek colossi. Aiming to distract it, she launched a bolt of lightning, sparks lighting up its face as it turned towards her, lifting its massive blade and moving away from the decaying house. There was no time to celebrate though, as she caught a glimpse inside of the injured person, a young child, behind the defensive position being maintained by the knight of the Holy See and Adders lancer who discovered him. Are Garleans meant to be that pale? Her heart dropped, but she turned back to the machine, casting a shield to block its swing. Dashing past it, hissing in pain from the sudden movement, she spun, enchanting the ground between her and the automaton, transforming it to a continuously shifting sand pit. As it stepped forward to chase her, being led further away from the trio, it started to slowly sink in the sand, causing it to struggle to advance as the spell eroded the armored legs. From the corner of her eye, she saw another pair running towards her, another knight who came, shouting and banging her sword against her shield to distract their opponent, and the well dressed Elezen man in white from before, who dashed without hesitation for the source of the distress call. "Yanaa, wait! The walls-" Sarnai's breath caught, as she left the knight to fight the magitek, trying to hurry to warn them all about their slowly collapsing shelter... only to hear the loud creak of bending metal and the cracking of stone.screaming, there's screaming, everything hurts, it's dark, it's red, the moon, where am I, where are they, where where where-Shuddering, she gagged, bile rising in her throat as she returned to the present, tears streaming down her face and dampening her mask. With not a moment to spare, a swing of her staff and she froze the corner of the house, only delaying the inevitable as the knight and lancer dashed from inside with the brief reprieve. As the ice crackled and the crumbling home fully went down, they all realized in horror that two people were still inside. "Quickly!" The Adder shouted, running back to the building and heaving rubble aside as best as he could, as Sarnai and the two knights joined in, Sarnai making the ground slick with water and ice where she could to aid with sliding debris away. Finally, all four sick with worry, a gap was made in the rubble. A sigh of relief, before a gasp, as the boy was covered in blood... and another, as the group realized it wasn't his. The Elezen man, buried beneath a rusted rafter smiled weakly, asking them the most important question that was on all minds present. "Is the young one okay?" The knights carefully extracted the Garlean child, using one's shield as a temporary stretcher. Laying him on the ground, Sarnai got to work checking him over as the others returned to free the other man. The little one was very weak and feverish, with some scrapes, but otherwise unharmed. Gently brushing a hand over his forehead to clear sweat-soaked bangs from his face and... eye? That still seems very strange to her. She got to work purging the infection from his body with her magic as best as she could. The other man is finally pulled from the wreckage, but in a much worse state. Sarnai realized that he must have blocked the falling debris, both with his body and his magic. Her head tilted, looking at him in concern as his flying wand-like weapons returned to their place on his back in jumpy, shuddering movements. So that's how they work. As the severely injured Elezen is laid next to the boy he saved, clutching his side with one hand, he looks to the Xaela, and smiles warmly, strength seeming to return to him for just a moment. She turned to him, preparing to administer care, before he tenderly placed a hand on her wrist and shook his head. "My dear, it is of no use." He moves his other hand, revealing a hole pierced through his side, wound puckering and oozing foamy blood, dripping down his body and onto the street below.red red red red he's reaching towards me in front of me in front of the moon but I can see the moonlight-"Focus on those who may yet see tomorrow." Gentle words filled with authority brought her back to reality, her eyes burning as she turns back to the child, still weak but stabilized. Suddenly, she feels something small being pressed into her hand, that grows warm as it touches her skin. His speech was strained and halting, yet still firm. "I believe you may be able to make better use of this than I will. I donned the white coat of a healer for a reason, and I trust you have as well." A slight chuckle, as his hand falls, a long sigh being released from a man satisfied with his final decision. Yet again, she finds herself, alongside the others, praying for someone's final moments, in a frozen land covered in soot and bone. One of the knights steps aside, talking on his linkpearl to organize evacuation for the child and recovery for the now-deceased man. Tucking the unexpected gift into her pocket for now, she focuses on preparing the young boy for his journey, using a cloth to dry him as much as she can, and applying poultices and bandages to what remained of his injuries. At least one will be okay. She perked up as the child's eyes fluttered open. He murmured softly, as Sarnai shushed him. "It is time to rest."The rest of the day went far more smoothly, with multiple ceruleum tanks some more heaters to repair being retrieved. After returning to the camp to rest for the next mission, Sarnai investigated the small stone she was handed. It was almost hot to the touch, which was strange enough, and it was tooth shaped and white, but very clearly not a tooth. On one side, there seemed to be etched an unknown symbol, of three lines connected to diamonds. Staring at it seemed futile, so she gave up and started wandering the camp, looking for someone who may know what it is. She may as well talk to the one person she knows here, finding the Flames officer that greeted her upon her arrival enjoying a warm drink around a fire, alongside a few others of the contingent. To her surprise, a few Xaela were there as well, their attire labeling them as of the Mol. Her stance softened, as they greeted each other in this frozen wasteland far from home, before she returned her gaze to the officer, who was looking back at her in concern. She shook her head, having bigger concerns at the moment than feeling bad about her first day in the field.Joining them by the fire, Sarnai opened her hand, revealing the small stone. The officer looked at it for a moment, before realizing what it was she was holding. "That looks like a job stone, I'd say. Where'd you find that?" After an explanation of the man who lost his life rescuing the child, the Hyur nodded. "Ah, it must have been his job stone, then. He's a Sage from Old Sharlayan that had initially offered his help during the Final Days, he'd been here for a while." Seeing the confusion on her face, he clarified further. "Sages are one of the healing disciplines pioneered by the Sharlayans. Heard it's a hard art to learn, but he must have thought you could do it. With your history, I'm inclined to agree." He snorts as Sarnai grins, a welcome moment of levity in an otherwise gloomy atmosphere.After a long, fitful night, bad memories of the past brought to the surface and mixed with her fears from the day, Sarnai woke up in the makeshift sleeping bunks exhausted to the burning in her leg as the filtered sunlight started to creep through frosted over windows. She sat up, cradling her face in her hands, until a box at the foot of her bunk caught her eye. Scooting closer, she spotted a note pinned to it. She could recognize her name in large letters, but that was about it, as she cursed the smaller swirling letters that presumably explained what the box was. After getting dressed, she stepped outside, box in hand. Again, the officer waved to her, a big grin on his face. "I see you found it!" He jogged over, visibly pleased with himself. "The three you helped the other day wanted to make it up to you, so they each chipped in a little bit of gil." At the hyur's enthusiastic urging, Sarnai opened the box, revealing four small objects, pink flowerbud shaped stones embedded in a metallic cradle. It took a moment, but after picking one up and inspecting it, she recognized that they must be the same type of weapon that the unfortunate Sage was using. "They were super pleased that the supplier had a backup set left over. Look, they even match your eyes!" Placing it gently back in the box as her hands began to shake, everything that happened the day before hit her at once, leaving her sobbing messily in the snow as the panicked Flame attempted to figure out what he did wrong.
Sarnai stayed in the camp for a few more moon cycles, spending her days alternating between retrieval parties and staying back at base to heal the injured, allowing the healers of the Grand Companies to take much needed breaks. Her nights were often spent instead studying her new job stone and nouliths, staying up late to practice with the strange weaponry, though of course she still returned to her staff when out, unwilling to put others at risk using unfamiliar tools. As time went on, periodically some effects from the sage would find their way to her bunk, namely those related to the art, while others were packed to be sent to his home nation. She'd found that apparently, he didn't have a family, having devoted his life solely to the practice of medicine after the death of his wife at a young age, but guilt over his fate still wormed its way into her heart. Each time, sorrow would again fill her, as she'd ask if she could have done something differently. No matter how many times she played through the events in her head, every other choice she could have made still led to more and more death. Maybe, she thinks, sometimes the gods have already decreed it is time for someone to die, all that is left is who and how.The day before she was set to leave back to Eorzea, she was helping in Tertium, standing guard over a team delivering food to the sheltering Garleans. Shortly after they had arrived and meals were being handed out, she felt a small tug on her sleeve, looking down to see the young child from before, now looking a much healthier shade of pink. He was clearly afraid, eyeing her staff nervously, but he was doing his best to be brave. "Th-thank you, miss lizard lady." In the background, a woman that looked very similar to him, Sarnai thought potentially his mother, grimaced slightly and stepped forward, apologizing for the boy. The mage ruffled the youth's hair, pulling her mask down and reassuring the woman with a smile. After a chat with her, Sarnai discovered the child had ended up in the city after being separated from his mother a few days before when members of the Contingent were escorting civilians from other parts of Garlemald to the station. For the rest of the day, she went around the station, healing those who needed it and would accept it, as the others of the contingent prepared for the journey back to Camp Broken glass.On the airship ride back to Eorzea, Sarnai sat on the floor, staring into the distance. She absent-mindedly patted each of her many pockets, going through a mental checklist of her belongings to soothe herself. Staff? Check. Nouliths? Check. A child's messy drawing of her alongside his other saviors? Check. Another returning from Garlemald, a former conscript from Ala Mhigo, sat beside her, distracting her from her thoughts. "Weird to see them like that, huh? Spent so long with them as conquerors that it's almost unreal to see them as just more victims, trying their best to make it another day." Sarnai hums, nodding her agreement. She'd never gotten to see them as almighty conquerors, given their rotten luck when it came to attacking the Steppe, but she'd heard plenty of tales. It was a struggle to see the Garleans of those horror stories as the same people she'd met, fighting to survive in a destroyed, hostile city of nightmare. Yet, through the nightmares, she saw hope for recovery fueling every movement the people made, working to ensure a better future for the citizens of Garlemald, and by extension, the rest of the star.Stepping foot in the yard of her clinic for the first time in moons as the warm sun of Thanalan rose, bathing the land in rejuvenating light, Sarnai flopped onto the familiar bench beside her home, fingertips tracing the orange wood. Her sheep, offended at her long absence, ran to greet her with a loud baa until she reached down to pet the silly creature on the head. Satisfied, he returned to his comfy, if a bit messier than her usual standards, stable in the yard, curling up and looking for all the world like a giant ball of wool. Well, more so than usual, anyhow. She giggled at his antics, glad to see him again after the longest time they've been apart since his birth. Eventually, she'd have to give the lalafellin lass she had requested watch the sheep her promised pay next time she came, which should be soon, but for now... It was time to rest. To rest, and recover, for those who may yet see tomorrow.
