Retribution

Jodis Ironfist was a tall highlander in her late 30s, a Sultansworn whose abundant generosity and kindness toward law-abiding people was only matched by her strict discipline.

And she had protected Ul’dah and its elite for almost two decades now. But right now, she had volunteered for a much different assignment.

Four Brass Blades had been murdered in as many weeks in Ul’dah and she had been called to help and protect her friend Inspector Briardien as he investigated.

They were examining the last crime scene. The victim, a Roegadyn named Awesome Iron, had been found in the middle of a small alley, covered in nasty burns.

They had not seen the previous victims but had been told that they had suffered a similar fate.

This was obviously the work of a spellcaster, and being in Ul’dah, most likely a thaumaturge.

“Victim still has his purse far from empty, theft does not seem to be the motive,” announced the inspector.

“Previous victims did not. Different culprit?” asked the Sultansworn.

“The Brass Blades aren’t known for reporting accurately any material wealth a victim had on their person,” answered Briardien.

Had anyone else said that, Jodis would have been angry. But now, she was merely annoyed that her friend would believe the Brass Blades to be this corrupt. She’d prove him wrong some day.

“Any other connection between the victims, besides being Brass Blades, that you would know of?” asked Briardien.

The Sultansworn shook her head and shrugged. “Not that I know, but if they had one, I would not be likely to know.”

“I know someone who might know.” replied the inspector.

Walking past the Hall of Flame, neither Jodis, in her shining full plate armor and shield, nor the tall and fancily clad Briardien blended in the crowd and people saw them coming from afar.

As they approached Wymond, many people around him found some reason to be elsewhere.

Wymond sighed. “To what do I owe the honor of being visited by the city finest and by Eorzea second best known ‘spector.”

Briardien appeared irritated. He would rather not think about… *that*.

“I need some information, time for you to repay an old favor.” said Briardien somewhat curtly.

“You must have heard about some Brass Blades being murdered? It is your business after all.”

Wymond took a second or two to ponder the query and answered; “Ah yes, sad story that. Also happens to be one I would rather you not solve, get it?”

“There’s a murderer on the loose and you would protect them? Who could it be to deserve such care of your part?” asked Briardien with his voice slightly raised.

“I have no clue who that person could be, it’s the three victims I know, and I also know few people will mourn them. All of ‘em had it coming.” replied Wymond.

“So,” he continued, “you’ll understand that I don’t want to see the one person who’s weeding out the Blades from its rotten apples, the one person with the guts to take out the trash, caught or identified.”

“What do you mean, rotten apples?” asked Jodis indignantly.

“All three of them were extorting honest merchants into giving ‘em bribes and if the merchants stood up, they would make up trumped charges against ‘em.

And one of them very likely framed an innocent for a murder he commited himself. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.” retorted Wymond.

Jodis stood pensively. This all made sense and sounded quite plausible but she was rather annoyed at the thought.

There could not be that much corruption in the Blades to justify wanton murder.

She would think about it later. For now, there was a murderer at large.

“If it’s any consolation to you ‘spector, there’ll certainly be more of those, maybe you got a shot at finding more clues then.”

Jodis thought this was no consolation at all.

“Well,” sighed Briardien, “let’s talk about something else then. What do you know of a Blade named Awesome Iron?”

“Ah, now that’s a Blade honest, straight and true. The kind of person the Blades could use more of.” said a smiling Wymond.

“Nothing to hide? No enemies? Nothing untoward under the wraps?” pursued Briardien.

“That would be news to me.” replied Wymond.

Wymond continued, “Just ask the merchants of the Sapphire Avenue Exchange, he was very well liked, particularly since he would often talk his corrupt peers out of their worst excesses.”

Briardien smiled, “Funny that, he’s our murderer’s fourth victim. Same modus operandi, same setup. Still don’t want to help us?”

Wymond lost his smile. “What? No. No that’s not possible. He’s been the victim of a copycat maybe.

Or he’s been the victim of some corrupt Blades who are attempting to pin this on our unknown hero. 

That certainly didn’t happen the way you think and I’m certainly not helping you.”

“It appears we’re done here,” said Briardien, “I hope you’ll be more helpful next time but until then, farewell.” and with that, Briardien did this exaggerated bow elezens do.

He turned to the Sultansworn and said; “let’s go.”

Jodis didn’t know where they were going but she was having difficulties digesting the idea that a Blade could be murdering another on top of extorting honest merchants.

As they walked, Briardien spoke; “so, we got one vigilante, and something else on the loose. I’m finding the idea of a copycat unlikely,

they would have to be some spellcaster themselves, someone educated enough to not miss the point of the original. The conspiracy is kind of plausible but they would likely have taken the gils.”

Jodis stayed silent. The idea that a Blade would kill another was unacceptable. There had to be another explanation. There had to be.

“I have a plan to catch the first murderer,” announced Briardien, “but I hesitate to put it in action until we know more about the second one.”

Jodis stopped walking. “There’s only one murderer,” she said.

Briardien, who had walked a few more steps, stopped and turned toward her. “That would be most convenient, but how do you figure that out?”

“They made a mistake, they got the wrong person. There’s another Roegadyn in the Blades who looks a lot like Awesome Iron.

But, now that I think about it, he’s a short tempered and greedy man who may well not be above anything.”

Briardien smiled. “Indeed, that makes a whole lot more sense.”

“You said you had a plan,” asked Jodis.

“You’re a Sultansworn, think you can go toe to toe in a fight with a thaumaturge?” asked Briardien.

“I’m a Sultansworn. I can surely stand up to a cowardly thaumaturge.” replied Jodis.

“Anything you wouldn’t sacrifice for Ul’dah?” pressed on the inspector.

***

Thus a few days later, the buzz in Ul’dah was how a Sultansworn had brutally slaughtered Momodi, owner and manager of the Quicksand, in public and in broad daylight.

The details were hazy and many doubted the veracity of that story, but the fact was that Momodi was missing.

Jodis was once again on an unusual assignment; patrolling the Sapphire Avenue Exchange. The last few days had been rather weird, what with getting angry stares or scared people fleeing her.

Briardien was doing his best to be discreet while tailing her.

A roegadyn child came running up to her, rather agitated, “Ma’am, ma’am, there’s a thug violently robbing a rich merchant over there,” he said, out of breath, pointing to a small alley in the periphery of the market.

Jodis mentally laughed, this had no subtlety, how could so many Blades fall for this? Or maybe their greed got the best of them?

Still, trap or not, her quarry was waiting for her there, better not give them the time to change their mind and go away.

She took a glance behind her and saw that Briardien was watching her. She did not nod or anything, not wanting to give away that she was being followed.

Jodis entered the dark alley. She was on her guard, expecting to face a barrage of destructive elements at any moment.

This was a small and dark alley, very close to the market yet away from prying eyes. There were a few stacks of wooden crates here and there, providing quite a few hiding spots.

She had her sword unsheathed and her shield high.

She saw some furtive movement ahead and heard a noise that sounded like someone was rubbing something against sand.

Someone was hiding behind a stack of wooden crates. She approached carefully.

When she got to about 10 yalms from the stack, a cloaked and hooded figure about five and a half films tall swiftly came out from behind a stack and shot a volley of fire in her direction.

Her shield took the brunt of it and her holy powers protected her as well, leaving her unharmed. She rushed the figure and smacked them with her shield.

The thaumaturge stumbled against another stack of crates, the top crates fell, broke and its content, phials of alchemical concoctions also broke, spilling their foul smelling content a few steps ahead and to the left of Jodis.

Jodis had the thaumaturge cornered against a wall and a stack of crates, there would be no running away now.

“Surrender or die.” shouted Jodis.

A feminine voice replied; “Surrender? Surrender so you can better execute me? Go to hell.”

“That’s what you deserve for killing so many innocents.” angrily snarked the Sultansworn holding her sword pretty close to the thaumaturge.

“You’re one to talk,” yelled the thaumaturge, “after slaughtering Momodi. You’re the one killing innocent people, not me.”

“You’re not as smart as you believe you are, thaumaturge, Momodi is alive and well, just hiding the time we need to catch you.” retorted the Sultansworn.

There was a short moment of silence, then Jodis continued, “and the last man you killed was no crook, what was *your* reason?”

“I KNOW.” shouted the thaumaturge. “I didn’t mean to. I screwed up and an honest man paid the price for it. 

I saw his life fade away from him, and I saw the incomprehension and the surprise at what was happening to him. I SAW IT ALL. I know.”

She continued, “I’m tired of this trash world full of trash people always hurting those around them for fun or profit.”

She threw her staff away, just beyond the spill, well out of her reach. Then she brusquely took off her cloak and threw it next to her staff.

She stretched her arms to her sides with the palm of her hands facing forward.

“I screwed up and deserve to die, go ahead and kill me. I’m all alone anyway, nobody will grieve over my death.”

Jodis could finally see her opponent, but the sight of her made her pause.

She was a young midlander, not even twenty, maybe as young as fifteen. Tears were streaming from her eyes and she was well about to start sobbing.

Yet she looked at the Sultansworn straight in the eyes and Jodis could see.

She could see the righteous indignation of someone who had witnessed, or maybe suffered, serious abuses and had been powerless to do anything about it.

At such a young age.

But even worse…

She could see the guilt.

Jodis didn’t have to kill her. She most certainly didn’t really want to kill a clumsy youth even if she had made a huge mistake.

But Awesome Iron certainly had not deserved to die at her hands either. Something had to be done.

A whole lot of things had to be done about a whole lot of things, thought the Sultansworn.

The two stood in silence for a moment.

Jodis sheathed her sword and finally broke the silence; “No family you say? Then I’m adopting you as my daughter.”

She raised her voice and harshly said; “you are NOT getting away with what you did, as your mother, I will see to it, that’s a promise.

The punishment will be painful but it will equally alleviate the guilt you’ve burdened yourself with.

And I will see you live and I will see you forgive yourself too.”

The young woman’s lips started quivering. New streams of tears flowed.

She threw herself into a surprised Sultansworn’s arms and started sobbing uncontrollably.

“Hush now,” Jodis whispered, her arms, including her shield, around the young thaumaturge’s shoulders, “it will be fine.”

Except, Jodis now had to convince Briardien to accept that arrangement and play along. The inspector was a long time friend, a little cajoling, maybe a little begging would do the trick.

Unfortunately, Briardien barged into the alley in full sprint accompanied by a Brass Blade Commander and at the other end, a half dozen Brass Blades also came in running.

That was seven more people than she anticipated and she had no clue what to tell them. What to say? What to do?

How she wished she had wits half as quick and sharp as the elezen’s. But she didn’t.

“Sorry for taking so long,” said Briardien trying to catch his breath.

Jodis had made a lofty promise, but she knew not how she would explain any of this. Her adoptive daughter whose name she didn’t even know yet was still sobbing in her arms.

“What happened here?” asked the Commander.

Jodis locked her gaze on her friend. What to say? Now would be a good time for some inspiration.

What to say?

Briardien, noticing his friend’s silence, took a look at the scene.

He walked up to the cloak on the ground, next to the foul spill and picked it up by its hood, holding the cloak high enough that it was fully unfolded.

He gave it a quick glance then turned his attention to Jodis and the sobbing girl in her arms.

He exaggeratedly shook his head in stiff disapproval, making sure all the Blades and Jodis saw him. He had everyone but the young woman’s attention on him.

“So, our murderer had taken a hostage to cover their flight if need be. And of course you went to save the hostage first.” he said with a hint of displeasure.

“Is that what happened?” asked the Commander, looking at the Sultansworn.

Without waiting for an answer, the Commander continued with a hint of fake indignation,

“I know you, of course you would. You are always first in line to protect the good folk of Ul’dah.” Then he started laughing loudly.

“I don’t suppose you got a good look at our quarry, did you?” the Commander asked Jodis.

Jodis, completely bewildered by what was happening only managed to stammer, “No. No I didn’t.”

A lie and not a convincing one but the Blades had all already accepted the suggested version of the events.

“Alright Blades,” yelled the Commander, half jokingly, “we’ll be scouring the area for a person who is not carrying a staff and not wearing a cloak. Piece of cake.”

And with that, the Blades left.

Briardien and Jodis were looking at each other and Briardien once more exaggeratedly shook his head in disapproval.

“What will *I* say now?” snarked Briardien.

He continued, “I guess our mysterious thaumaturge decided to flee the city after getting so close to getting caught. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Thank you inspector, I owe you one.” answered a relieved Sultansworn.

She turned her attention to the young woman and with the most stern voice she could muster, “Girl, you had better have something to say to the inspector.”

The young woman shakily broke from Jodis’ arms and wiped away the tears from her face  “Yes Mother, I do.”

“That’s ‘Mommy’ to you, girl.” Jodis said, again in the most stern voice she could muster.

“Yes, Mommy.” came the reply.

The girl turned to the inspector. “Thank you Sir, I will never forget the kindness you’ve shown me today.” 

She bowed to Briardien and turned toward Jodis. “Nor yours, Mommy.”

Briardien sighed; “Mommy, eh?”