Traveler

Her morning wasn’t going as she would have liked it to have gone. While the leves she did had gone well—it was her search for a new grimoire that soured the day. She walked into the bustling marketplace, and scoured the merchants for their wares. When she started describing her mothers grimoire to them, many of them looked perplexed. Some sold grimoires, but they didn’t have the same Sharlayan markings.

“Sorry lass, we don’t carry that particular spell book. I’d have to see about importin’ one in.”

Azlyn frowned. “Okay, how much are we looking at for cost?” 

He looked for the style, make, and same markings. “Yer lookin’ at a pretty steep cost—with it bein’ a rare book in all.” 

“...rare?” Azlyn had a feeling it was going to be an astronomical number.

He pulled out an abacus, calculating the shipping cost, handling fee, and several other import and export taxes. “We’re looking anywhere around a hundred thousand. That’s with a friend’s discount.” 

Azlyn’s face went a shade of white. How long had she been carrying around such an expensive book—and how long had her parents been carrying that book around? “O-oh... I’ll—uh—I’ll think about that.” 

She had gone to Mealvaan’s Gate, the Arcanist’s Guild in Limsa, only for Thubyrgeim to frown at the request. 

“What happened to your grimoire?” 

Azlyn then had to explain what happened to her previous grimoire, producing it from her bag. The look of shock on her face made it clear that repairs were out of the question. 

“I’ve seen some damaged books, but never in this state of disrepair.” She peered at the spine, the state of the pages, and it’s faded vigils. K’lyhia emerged from below the guild, a slight sweat forming on her brow. She looked as if she had been working out. 

“Holy—Twelve preserve, what happened?” K’lyhia eyed the book with wide eyes, and then back to Azlyn. “I—I may have calculated a rate of failures, but I hadn’t expected the worst of the worst to happen.” 

Azlyn sighed, of course this was one of the scenarios she calculated. “...This being the worst one?” She questioned.

K’lyhia frowned, “No—you wouldn’t be here if the worst one happened.” 

Azlyn was suddenly thankful the worst scenario didn’t happen. Whatever that one was. She looked to Thubyrgeim. “So there’s no way to repair it to a functional state?”

The interim guild master shook her head. “I’m afraid with the rarity of this book, and the pages being utterly damaged, the best one could do is reshape it. The magic in the book however is gone.” 

This was the time where Azlyn spent listening to her lecture on the life force of a book, and how the core of the aetherial energies lies within the enchanted ink within the tome. Not only the ink, but the craft of the spine also held powerful magicks. Azlyn had asked whether it was possible to cast the magicks without the use of a book medium—which turned into a steep discussion on why that shouldn’t happen. The aether that surrounded a person shouldn’t be used as haphazardly without a medium. While it was possible to do, it was not recommended.

It wasn’t long before K’lyhia pondered aloud, “To find a book of similar fashions it’d cost an arm and a leg to get—you were quite lucky to have had such a rare oddity.”  She sighed, “Well before we can continue in our studies, we must arm you with a book. I will look around to see if I can find a suitable one for you.” 

Thubyrgeim asked to hold onto the destroyed book, to see what she could do, Azlyn could only nod. She hadn’t known that her parents had left such an ancient relic. 

K’lyhia had returned moments later. “We don’t have any loaners at the moment. We’ll have to order one from the mainland.”

Azlyn didn’t want to bother them further. “It-it’s alright, I’ll raise the money on my own and find a way to buy a new book. I’d hate to burden you all with this.” 

K’lyhia frowned, her hands on her hips. “As your guide, I can’t very well leave you to the sharks. It’s my duty as your trainer to ensure your success. We’ll find a solution together.” 

The three of them came up with a plan—and they explicitly informed her not to leave Limsa unless she had a means to protect herself. She was unarmed after all. She agreed to the conditions, so she returned to the culinarian’s guild to cook and bake. Azlyn must have been lost in thought as she had burned her hand on the pot when she tried to pull it out of the oven.

“Ou-ouch!” She blew on her hand, shaking the pain away. Someone came up to her, and a warm glow washed over her hand. “Th-thank you.” The woman was a Roegabyn dressed in a simple brown cowl who had walked by the guild. 

“Be careful while working with hot objects—lucky for you I passed by.” She tilted her hat to her. “Have a good day.” 

Azlyn sighed, decided to call it quits while she was ahead—she made for the Drowned Wench. Baderon seemed to have company at his bar, as he was chatting with several uniformed officers. They looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place them. She shook her head, pulling out one of the corner bar stools to sit down. She decided to pen home a letter to the Isle of Val. 

“—eak of the devil!” She had finished writing her letter, folding it into even thirds, to feel several eyes upon her. Azlyn looked up to see Baderon grinning ear to ear. “Who’d think ye’d be right there. Well fellas, there’s ya gurl. If Staelwyrn’s word is right, she’s the one who walked the plains covered in Auroch blood!”

Azlyn widened her eyes. She only told Baderon of an Auroch skewering her book—not how she whittled the herd down with just an axe. Then she thought back to those five idiots on top of the ridge. 

Internally she cursed, of course they told Staelwyrn. 

Before she could explain herself, she found herself surrounded by the red coats. Her arms were held up by two Roegabyn on each side, and a Lalafell who led the charge to carry the poor Au Ra from the bar with Baderon waving. 

Azlyn saw her satchel and letter still left behind, so she had to yell as she was being carried away. “Wait—my bag! The letter!”

They were running as fast as they could, obviously her meager weight was nothing compared to two muscular soldiers who carried her like a purse. They remained on the Upper Decks of Limsa Lominsa, running into a large tower labeled: the Coral Tower. The huge space had been filled with men and women practicing with an axe. They were swinging in basic forms, up against several body bags of hay. 

There was a chair waiting in the center, as she was plopped down with two hands placed upon her shoulder to keep her there. A man dressed in a black uniform and black hat stared down from the awning with a curious expression. Beside him, another Roegabyn dressed in heavily plated armor, and strapping a large axe stepped up to the rail. He seemed jubilant that she had arrived. 

“Uh—hi?” She mustered as the Lalafell from the bar piped up. “Sir! This is the one Baderon said slayed them Aurochs!” 

“Ah! It’s our guest we’ve heard so much about. Welcome to the Marauder’s Guild!” The older  Roegabyn laughed, as Azlyn darted her eyes within the hall. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to look at her. 

“Is it true you slain over nine Auroch’s with just an axe?” The older Roegabyn standing above seemed keen on her—watching her. It reminded her of Baderon. 

Reluctantly, she nodded. 

He slowly came down the steps from the upper landing, coming down to the ground floor where she was sitting. The two Roegabyn’s were still pushing on her shoulders to keep her sitting. He stopped right in front of her, to give her a long, hard look. 

When he determined he saw what he wanted to see, he turned over to one of the officers nearby. “What sets the axe aside from the gladius or the dagger is the raw, unstoppable destruction wrought by it’s thick, heavy blade. And that power can only be properly directed by extraordinary physical strength.” He then looked to Azlyn sitting in the chair. “Thus we come to the core of today’s lesson. Such strength as a marauder must possess is developed through a traditional method passed down through the generation of the guild. A method that you shall present to the guild today. Someone give her an axe.” 

A trainee ran forward, his uniform looked freshly made—probably a cadet. He laid down an axe in front of Azlyn. 

“Attention!” everyone snapped to his order. “Present yourselves to Broenbhar in the practice area downstairs, while I get the area outside ready fer our guest. You, follow me.” 

Azlyn felt her constraints on her arms disappear, and she slowly reached down to pick up the axe. It was a bit heavier than the one she used against the Golem. She could see he was waiting for her to follow behind him. The Captain of the guild walked slowly to allow her to catch up. He didn’t look back to her, even as they left Limsa through Zepher Gate. 

The walk was intense. The presence of this man was enough to stifle the air around her, but she did her best to keep her head up. She hoped whatever challenge he had for her would be something easy. 

They didn’t travel that far from town, crossing a bridge and stopped by a rather large rock. The captain bid her to wait as the rest of the guild slowly trekked their way over. When everyone seemed to be there, he called them into order and placed them in two single file lines, windowing. He crossed his arms as he gestured to the large rock. 

“Take that axe and smash that boulder.” 

Azlyn blinked twice. “Uh—what?” 

“I don’t say things twice—go.” He curtly replied, and waited. Everyone else also gave her wide eyes as she lifted the axe up into both her hands. Slowly, she turned away, looking at the rock with concern. Was this a hazing? Was this a test of strength? This guy was hard to read. 

She approached the rock the same way she did the Golem. She started to channel her strength into her arms, and made a heavy swing down into the boulder. The sheer amount of force shattered it to bits. Azlyn stared down at the mess of rock, before she heard the Captain bark more commands. “Two more—on the double!”

Azlyn scanned the area, finding one rock of similar size. She did the same thing she did the first time. Then she moved to the third boulder. 

By the time she was finished, she swung her axe up to a resting position on her shoulder, turning back to the guild and the Axemaster who were watching her. 

“That’s the way to do it lass.” The Captain approved, and turned back to two lines behind him. “Did ye see the technique in her swing? The power to destroy those rocks with her scrawny arms? Even you all can do this.” 

He commanded the squadron into drills outside, and finally turned to her. Azlyn approached him with a curious expression. “Yer not done yet. Take it up a notch and imagine your smashing a skull. I’m watchin’ ye.”

The Axemaster crossed his arms, waiting for her to complete her task. Azlyn turned back to the remaining rocks. She brought down her axe in one fluid motion, each of the rocks splitting and cracking under the contact. With her task complete, she sprinted back. She was kind of afraid to keep the guy waiting. When she approached, he seemed to be deep in thought. 

“Hrm...so the rumors were true. Interestin’. Looks like I need to step up your training regime from this point forward. What’s yer name?” 

Azlyn sighed, it looked like she was being enlisted from the sounds of it. “I’m Azlyn.” 

He sensed her disapproval. “The names Wyrnzoen—but everyone addresses me as Axemaster Wyrnzoen. When I heard ‘bout ye from Baderon, I had to see it fer myself. As true as his word, yer axe skills are on par with any marauder within the guild.” 

Azlyn shook her head, dropping the head of the axe down to the ground. She didn’t breakout a sweat during that tiny exercise. “If I join,” She relucatantly said, “would I be paid for my services?” 

The Axemaster nodded. “Baderon said ye were hurtin’ for some Gil. Yeah, I suppose I could squeeze out some coffers fer yer services. Check back in with me later today when my squad is done with their drills. I might have the perfect request fer ye to do. Keep the axe—ye don’t seem to have one.” He then turned his gristled expression back to his men tackling the stones and not cracking them as well as she had. He bid her a curt nod, and excused her from the remainder of what he had his guild doing. 

 She teleported back to Limsa Lominsa from their location, and walked from the central plaza to the Bulwark Hall. She took the lift up, and then rushed over to Baderon with expecting eyes. “Please, of please tell me you have my stuff.” 

He smirked, cleaning a glass with a cloth. “It’s down under the counter—oh I sent yer letter home. Don’t say ol’ Baderon doesn’t take good care of ‘is friends.” 

Azlyn heaved a sigh of relief, collapsing into a bar stool. “What would I do without you Baderon? You’re the best, really.” She smiled, and he paused at it. 

“Ye’d still say that after I sold ye off to the Marauder’s?” 

She nodded. “They’ll pay me for my services—and you’re not one to just throw me to the sharks unless you think I can handle it.” 

Baderon smirked, wiping under his nose with his finger. He was pretty happy with that compliment. “Yer goin’ to make an ol’ man blush, ahh git outta here.” He pulled her bag out from under the counter, and shooed her away. “Yer not goin’ to git ‘nythin’ done sitting at a bar.” 

She nodded, deciding to take her new found axe and do some personal training in Lower La Noscea. There were an abundance of creatures that seemed to be overtaking one of the bridges nearby. She dealt with the threat with ease, as she swung her axe. She felt like the axe was just an extension of herself. And she was reminded of when she was just a child, being able to pick up any weapons and using them with ease. 

When she was thanked by the Yellowjackets for her help, she wondered if maybe Hydaelyn had granted her quite a boon since her birth. 

“Maybe it’s something I need to explore more.” She thought aloud, and decided to check back into the Marauder’s Guild a little before dinner. 

The Coral Tower was bustling with action, as the Axemaster was cleaning his axe when she came up. “I was waitin’ long. We finished an hour or so ago—expected ye’d be here earlier.” 

Azlyn sheepishly shrugged, “I was helping some of the locals out in Lower La Noscea.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her, his gruff expression hardening. “An you’ll be headin’ right back out there—I received an urgent request for help in Red Rooster Stead. It appears some hostile group of megalocrabs has unwittingly elected itself the next test of your prowess. Try not to douse yourself in it’s blood this time. Ye’d only draw more hostiles to ye.” 

He handed her the missive, and went back to cleaning his blade. The whet stone was well used, from years and years of experience. “Oh, and a veteran conjurer by the name of Solkwyb will meet you there. She should be there now.”

She nodded. As went went to turn away, he told her in a confident voice. “May devastation follow in your wake.”

Azlyn marched herself out from the tower, and made her way to Red Rooster Stead. It was unfortunate they didn’t have a crystal to teleport to, so she’d have to walk the distance—and make it below nightfall. Perhaps she should have gone earlier to see Wyrnzoen.

She used the aethernet crystal just outside the Coral Tower to teleport to Tempest Gate. From there she walked over to an adult dressed in brown robes surveying a large river by Red Rooster Stead. She was looking around as Azlyn introduced herself. 

“Ah—you must be the new recruit. Solkwyb is my name. It looks like the nest that was here has been —“ The female caster was interrupted by a shout from an elderly man. Azlyn looked over her shoulder to see someone rushing over to them. 

She remembered seeing him in Red Rooster Stead when she was helping out before. “Aid! I need aid!” 

Azlyn helped hold him steady as his limbs began to shake. He was pointing down the side of the river as he recognized her. “Please, it’s my grandson. Them snippers’ve got ‘I’m! I told Sighard not to get too close...! I told him!”

“It’ll be alright—I’ll retrieve him.” She smiled to him, as he nodded in relief. 

Solkwyb looked down to her, “Get your weapon ready Azlyn. We need to hurry. Now.” 

She nodded, letting the elder man go to retrieve her axe hanging off the holster of her back. They charged through the water—Azlyn not caring if her boots and soaks got soaked. Someone’s life—a kid’s life—was in danger. She could see it now, a child on his back, pushing himself into the water to avoid the large claws snapping over him. 

Solkwyb yelled. “I got the boy, take the charge and get them away from him!” 

Azlyn concentrated, swinging her axe up above her head as she roared a mighty sound. She hoped it would draw they’re attention, especially with her splashing. The largest of the crabs noticed her, as the kid yelled: “Bugger an’ shite! Get away from me, ye bloody great bastard!”

She rushed in, standing in front of the blow that was about to take the boy. Her axe slammed into it’s massive claw with a resounding clash. Azlyn held it back with her muscles aching under the pressure. She turned her head a smidge to make sure the conjurer had grabbed the boy. “My thanks.” She replied to Solkwyb, and proceeded to take down the megalocrabs one by one. 

She chopped off it’s claws at the soft spots between the joints. While one was writhing, another was on her case. She dealt with that one too, hitting it in all of the soft spots in the joints. She disabled the legs, as best she could. It was about halfway into the fight when she got clocked by a claw that had yet been severed. She could see stars, but being stunned only lasted for so long. She heaved a long breath, as she stumbled up to the final one standing. A stream of blood rolled down her face as she charged. 

That rock training from earlier came in handy, as she leapt into the air. She swung her axe up over her head, imagining a big old boulder in front of her. Swinging down, she let gravity take control, and felt the thick connection of metal to flesh. The crack of it’s shell could be heard over the trickling of the river as it finally toppled to the ground. Azlyn heaved a few more breaths, as she reached to pick up the axe from the front end of the megalocrab. 

Solkwyb ran over to her, casting a spell to heal her wounds. She felt the warmth wash over her, primarily over her head as she sheathed the axe in place. 

The boy ran up to her, his eyes alit with a fire she’d seen in most kids who admired someone. “Thank ye miss! I was dead for sure!” He looked down at the path, a bit sad. “I can’t even play outside no more. What with all these scary monsters about. Me, ma, and me da, they were both killed by some nasty bugger not so long ago—an Aurochs, big as a mountain.”

Azlyn shuddered. She could only imagine what one could have done to his parents—the same way that had been done to her book no less. She closed her eyes. “I’m glad that you’re alright.” She replied, doing her best to remove the imagery from her mind. 

The boy ran over to her, grasping the front of her shirt. “Please, you have to avenge them! Please Bloody Princess of the Sea!”

The adults stood frozen at the new proclamation, and Azlyn, quite unsure of what this new title meant gave a curious look over to his grandfather who was attempting to pull his grandson back. “Forgive him, he heard of rumors from Tiller’s Rest of a young lady who appeared drenched in Auroch blood. She apparently quelled a herd of Auroch and helped the communities nearby with her generosity and courage.” 

Solkwyb smiled wryly, looking over at Azlyn who was doing her best to avoid her stare. “Oh? And what did this young princess look like?” 

The boy in front of Azlyn jumped at the chance. “She’s super pretty, and has a wonderful smile!”

While she was happy with those adjectives, his grandfather made sure to follow it up with the common folk’s view. “She’s an adventurer with bright red eyes, but her other features were hard to determine due to the excessive amount of blood.”

Solkwyb seemed confident about her thoughts, but decided to keep that to herself. “Young lad, take a good look at her eyes.” 

Azlyn thanked the Roegabyn healer for her quick thinking, her eyes were purple, with a rare limbal ring combination, but they weren’t bright red. She felt herself being tugged down by the child, so she dropped to a kneeling position. She pointed her eyes, explaining. “My eyes are purple, but I have a rare combination of a bright red limbal ring that surrounds my iris. Do you see?” 

He nodded his head, a bit saddened at the fact she might not be the Bloody Princess of the Sea as he might have wished. 

“But I’ll do whatever I can to help, and see what we can do about this Auroch problem. This I promise.” She raised her pinky finger up to the lad. “Let’s make a promise, okay?” He raised his hand up, his finger intertwining with hers. She shook it to the rhythm of his chant of the promise, and then smiled. “My name is Azlyn, what’s yours?” 

The boy smiled, “Sighard, and if you ever meet the Bloody Princess, you have to let me know okay!” She nodded, hoping to never have to reveal that it was her. 

The grandfather thanked the duo for saving his grandson once more, and Sighard left with his Grandfather back to their town. Solkwyb waited until they were out of earshot before calling her out. “It’s not nice to lie.” 

Azlyn sighed, her smile faltered. “When did that title come up? Who started—“ She didn’t even need to finish her question as she first thought of the five idiots that caused the whole debacle. Of course the remaining four would tell Staelwyrn—who would in turn relay the information to others. She groaned. Maybe the name hadn’t travelled far and she could prevent it from going any further. 

Solkwyb seemed to notice the gears in her head churning, so she laughed. “You should report this to the Axemaster. He’ll want to know about everything that happened to the nest.” 

The adventurer nodded, and said her goodbyes to Solkwyb. She said she had some duties to accomplish still out in the field. Azlyn teleported back into Limsa Lominsa, taking the time to teleport in town to the Coral Tower. There she found all the marauders in training doing excessive work out regimes that ranged from sit ups, push ups, weight lifting, and crunches. She walked past them into the Coral Tower itself. There she found the Axemaster whetting the stone with the dull of his blade, hoping to sharpen it and tune it for future use. Azlyn approached with her report. 

“—Solkwyb and I were able to stop the rampaging Megalocrabs before Sighard and his grandfather had been hurt. It was then that the young boy started to talk about a rampaging Auroch that killed his parents. I’d like to fulfill a promise I made to Sighard.” 

The Axemaster stopped in his task, to look up at her. His expression was dark, as he straightened himself sitting up. He offered her to sit in front of him, and relucatantly she kneeled down on both her knees. She chose to sit formally, as she was unsure of his topic of choice. 

“I know of this lad—and this Auroch you speak of. You’re much too weak to fight it. You’ll need more training and a stronger resolve if you want a chance to best him. He is extremely territorial, wanting to expand it’s control of the lands. That’s why those meglaocrabs were there—as their previous hunting grounds had been taken over. It probably also didn’t help when the Bloody Princess of the Sea took care of his own kind. He’s been rampaging ever since.” 

Azlyn froze, as she took the weight of his word. She looked down at her thighs and the floor beneath them. How could something this monstrous be living in La Noscea? Perhaps she hadn’t had an opportunity—Axemaster Wyrnzoen pulled her from her thoughts with an insightful response. 

“You got lucky lass, the day you trampled into his feeding grounds. Yer book took the brunt of the damage while you pulled yourself out from the ringer. He’s looking for you—and he wants to finish what was started. The Bloody Princess of the Sea and the famed Auroch itself, that’s a battle even I’d go to watch.” He smirked wide, and Azlyn was left without words. And then a deep loathing dropped down in the pit of her stomach. If she had just taken care of it before—maybe Sighard’s thirst for revenge could have been assuaged. 

She narrowed her eyes. “What do I have to do to become what Sighard needs me to be?” 

The Axemaster widened his grin. “Become the Bloody Princess this challenge demands. Nurture that destruction, that taste for vengeance—and you’ll be quite the Marauder. That I guarantee.”

Azlyn nodded, even if she hated the thought of the title. She punched one of her fists into her open palm. “Let’s get to training then, shall we?”