Post by LancerZero on Mar 20, 2007 14:40:43 GMT
It had been but a scant few years since the end of the Eidolon War, yet the ruined landscape of Burmecia had already been transformed. Where there had been holes in the city walls from mages, there now was fresh brickwork, courtesy of a variety of nezumi masons that had survived the war. Where there had been broken windows, crumbled statues, and scorched children's toys there now were robed widows feeding crumbled bread to the few birds that lived in Burmecia, and children splashing in the puddles.
Reconstruction was proceeding even more quickly and smoothly than any but the most blindly optimistic had dared hope, and with the Mist gone, there was less need for guards than had been anticipated. Which was not to say that the surviving dragoons and soldiers didn't have anything to do, of course. Oh, no - far from it. They were busier than ever. The problem was that their duties were . . . rather different than many of them had anticipated.
At least, that's what a particular dragoon told herself as she chased her quarry through the busy market square late one foggy afternoon. It isn't worse, merely different. Surely this is preferable to chasing fiends in the wilderness. Surely! It wasn't the first time that day Freya had told herself that, and if things went as they usually did, it wouldn't be the last. He must have a five minute head start . . . ah, there he is!
Her target was still completely unaware of her presence - and he continued to be blissfully blind to the dragon knight who was hot on his trail. It was a simple matter for Freya to follow the visiting warrior's halberd as it bobbed up and down in time with the steps of its wielder. In mere moments, she was within striking distance. She reached behind her back to draw out the needed item to complete her task, and tapped the oblivious human on his shoulder . . .
"Pardon me, sir, but you forgot your coin purse at the market stall." Trying not to show how annoyed she was with being tasked with such tedious work as standing guard in the perpetually peaceful market, Freya held out the item for the Lindblum soldier to take.
"Hmm? What's that?" The soldier's words were muffled by the sandwich he'd been busily stuffing into his face. "Oh!" He spat crumbs with the exclamation as he saw his coin purse, showering the dragoon with pieces of his lunch. They both cringed. "Sorry, ma'am." He finished swallowing his bite as she dusted herself off and held out the item again. "I was in such a rush, thank you for returning this! Hey, tell ya what, I'll put in a good word on your behalf with your commander, eh?"
"In the future, please try to keep better track of your belongings. And while I appreciate the gesture, it really won't be necessary to-"
"I insist! So few honest young people nowadays, that's what's wrong with this world. It's why I asked to be stationed - oh, I guess you've heard, haven't you? About the airships the Regent has stationed here now during reconstruction?"
Freya sighed, and nodded. With any luck, he'll keep talking until my shift is over. Perhaps he won't notice if I fall asleep leaning on my spear's shaft. "I hear them taking off every day; they fly directly over my house."
"Well, I asked to be sent here with them because I heard there were some good folks overseeing things around here. Not like back home - I swear, I think they're delaying construction so they can keep upping the price they'll charge for it." The man leaned over towards Freya, until she could smell his . . . aromatic breath. "And y'know, I secretly think my commander actually wanted to be rid of me."
"I can't imagine why," Freya replied, not without sarcasm. Fortunately, the soldier was as oblivious to her tone as he'd initially been to her presence.
"I know! I mean, I'm not a bad guy. Sure, I talk a lot - oh, shoot. Here I am, talking your leafy ears off! Sorry, I tend to get carried away. Now, what's your name again?"
"I am Freya."
"Freya? Say, that sounds familiar . . . hmm. I swear I've heard of you . . ."
Oh, please no . . . not another one! It gets so tiring . . . always the same. 'What was Kuja like?' 'Is it true that you're invincible?' 'Did you really dance in Cleyra?' or - worst of all - the ones that shout out and draw an onerous crowd to me that takes HOURS to disperse. "I doubt it. My name is fairly common. And again, I thank you for your kind offer, but I was only-"
"Oh! Oh! I remember now! You won the Festival of the Hunt a couple years ago! I knew I recognized you. That was a great year for the Festival! Hey, are you going to attend this year?"
Breathing a small sigh of relief, the dragoon leaned on the shaft of her spear as she considered the matter.
Note: I'm trying something of an experiment here - leaving a nice opening for whoever's next to start off. If you want to write the next part, please say so in the pinned thread! Otherwise, more than one person might write the next part, and someone would end up frustrated. ^^
Reconstruction was proceeding even more quickly and smoothly than any but the most blindly optimistic had dared hope, and with the Mist gone, there was less need for guards than had been anticipated. Which was not to say that the surviving dragoons and soldiers didn't have anything to do, of course. Oh, no - far from it. They were busier than ever. The problem was that their duties were . . . rather different than many of them had anticipated.
At least, that's what a particular dragoon told herself as she chased her quarry through the busy market square late one foggy afternoon. It isn't worse, merely different. Surely this is preferable to chasing fiends in the wilderness. Surely! It wasn't the first time that day Freya had told herself that, and if things went as they usually did, it wouldn't be the last. He must have a five minute head start . . . ah, there he is!
Her target was still completely unaware of her presence - and he continued to be blissfully blind to the dragon knight who was hot on his trail. It was a simple matter for Freya to follow the visiting warrior's halberd as it bobbed up and down in time with the steps of its wielder. In mere moments, she was within striking distance. She reached behind her back to draw out the needed item to complete her task, and tapped the oblivious human on his shoulder . . .
"Pardon me, sir, but you forgot your coin purse at the market stall." Trying not to show how annoyed she was with being tasked with such tedious work as standing guard in the perpetually peaceful market, Freya held out the item for the Lindblum soldier to take.
"Hmm? What's that?" The soldier's words were muffled by the sandwich he'd been busily stuffing into his face. "Oh!" He spat crumbs with the exclamation as he saw his coin purse, showering the dragoon with pieces of his lunch. They both cringed. "Sorry, ma'am." He finished swallowing his bite as she dusted herself off and held out the item again. "I was in such a rush, thank you for returning this! Hey, tell ya what, I'll put in a good word on your behalf with your commander, eh?"
"In the future, please try to keep better track of your belongings. And while I appreciate the gesture, it really won't be necessary to-"
"I insist! So few honest young people nowadays, that's what's wrong with this world. It's why I asked to be stationed - oh, I guess you've heard, haven't you? About the airships the Regent has stationed here now during reconstruction?"
Freya sighed, and nodded. With any luck, he'll keep talking until my shift is over. Perhaps he won't notice if I fall asleep leaning on my spear's shaft. "I hear them taking off every day; they fly directly over my house."
"Well, I asked to be sent here with them because I heard there were some good folks overseeing things around here. Not like back home - I swear, I think they're delaying construction so they can keep upping the price they'll charge for it." The man leaned over towards Freya, until she could smell his . . . aromatic breath. "And y'know, I secretly think my commander actually wanted to be rid of me."
"I can't imagine why," Freya replied, not without sarcasm. Fortunately, the soldier was as oblivious to her tone as he'd initially been to her presence.
"I know! I mean, I'm not a bad guy. Sure, I talk a lot - oh, shoot. Here I am, talking your leafy ears off! Sorry, I tend to get carried away. Now, what's your name again?"
"I am Freya."
"Freya? Say, that sounds familiar . . . hmm. I swear I've heard of you . . ."
Oh, please no . . . not another one! It gets so tiring . . . always the same. 'What was Kuja like?' 'Is it true that you're invincible?' 'Did you really dance in Cleyra?' or - worst of all - the ones that shout out and draw an onerous crowd to me that takes HOURS to disperse. "I doubt it. My name is fairly common. And again, I thank you for your kind offer, but I was only-"
"Oh! Oh! I remember now! You won the Festival of the Hunt a couple years ago! I knew I recognized you. That was a great year for the Festival! Hey, are you going to attend this year?"
Breathing a small sigh of relief, the dragoon leaned on the shaft of her spear as she considered the matter.
Note: I'm trying something of an experiment here - leaving a nice opening for whoever's next to start off. If you want to write the next part, please say so in the pinned thread! Otherwise, more than one person might write the next part, and someone would end up frustrated. ^^