Azlyn woke up in one of the many spare cots they had made available to the scions. Late last night she noticed Thancred and Y'shtola had come in, looked over in her direction, and asked her how she was doing. She told them that she wasn't feeling well, but it would pass as most things did. There was a notable twinge of awkwardness in the air, as news came in to them all. Together they experienced it and lived through it. Processing the strange and seemingly impossible situation involving the Isle of Val.

The smell of tea and breakfast welcomed her as she stumbled out from the spare room. She was joined by a few others—Yda and Papalymo were not present, but she soon learned they were investigating an unusual phenomenon similar to that of an Eikon near the Black Shroud. Azlyn thought that maybe the moogles summoned back their king, but surely they wouldn't risk it this close to when they arrived to defeat them.

Minfillia had been silent, stealing glancing over to her as she ate. Thancred offered idle chatter in the interim. Stuff that Lady Yugiri had been safely returned to Limsa Lominsa, or about the caucus partying within the Drowned Wench at the once again successful battle their Bloody Princess of the Sea delivered.

Azlyn chuckled softly, shaking her head to their antics. She could see Baderon hooting and hollering with the rest of the Lominsans.

"Sounds like quite the event."

Thancred nodded. He lifted up his fork that had a lone sausage speared. "It would have been more of a party had the hero of the hour been there."

"They'll party for any reason, glorious fights or not."

"My lady!" Tataru came running up to the table, her face beheld such a grim expression. "A group of refugees have arrived from Ul'dah requesting aid from the Scions!"

Azlyn lowered her utensils, looking to the Antecedent. She could see that she was troubled, and with good reason. While the Scions have decided to take in the Domans within Revenant's Toll, they did not have the means to help all of the refugees. Especially the ones who have been displaced by the Calamity five years prior.

F'lhaminn worriedly arrived soon after Tataru, frowning. "These refugees are requesting that we offer them the same treatment we gave to the Domans. At present, they are waiting within the Seventh Heaven bar, for a formal response."

"It was bound to happen—I didn't expect it to be so soon." Y'shtola sighed. "Minfillia, will you take them in? We have not the resources nor can we support more refugees if word continues to spread."

"Y'shtola, your opinion has been duly-noted…" The Antecedent frowned, all of their breakfasts now forgotten. "I will listen to their stories, and give my answer then."

Their chairs squeaked as each of them pushed back their chairs. Thancred crossed his arms over his chest before turning to Minfillia. "I have some business over in Limsa Lominsa, but give me a call if any trouble should arise."

Azlyn rose her thumb up to him, earning from him a well timed smirk. "Will do."

When he disappeared with a pop, Y'shtola excused herself to the study, where she would further investigate an issue she currently had.

Minfillia looked to Azlyn with a minor shrug. "Shall we greet our guests?"

"After you Minfillia."

The pair had soon been followed by Tataru, whom held open the door for them into the quiet morning atmosphere within the bar. A calm had relaxed over the space compared to last night's boisterous hooting, catcalling, and non-stop performances from well traveled bards.

It was in there they found three Ala Mhigan refugees, they were offered some waters while they waited. The three anxious spoke in soft whispers to one another before Minfillia approached them.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting—My name is Minfillia, and I lead the Scions of the Seventh Dawn."

One of the refugee's looked between Minfillia and then over to Azlyn, and finally landed back to Minfillia. All of their eyes had a glimmer of hope. "Twelve be praised—it is you! We're ready and willin' to work, same as the Domans! Just give us a task, and we'll see it done!"

The other two behind the man nodded fervently.

"Please calm yourselves," Minfillia lifted her hands as she noticed them starting to raise expectations. Azlyn tried to keep as stoic as she could muster. Y'shtola had not been wrong when she mentioned how low their resources are—and to take more refugees in would tax the organization immensely. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I know naught of your situation."

Azlyn looked to their speaker, as the draggle-tailed refugee bowed his head slightly.

"Beg your pardon, Antecedent. I—I ain't so good with words." He stopped, thinking of his words with care. "We've been livin' off the scraps from Ul'dah for years now. Tryin' to piece a life together to replace the one that was took. They say there's work, but there's naught for an honest man. Naught as wouldn't sully his soul sooner than his palms, any road. The Flames do what they can for us, o' course, but it ain't near enough."

Another of the refugees behind him nodded, stepping forward to speak. "And it's only gettin' worse. When the Calamity brought us to our knees, those rich bastards in the city didn't help us at all—they climbed upon our backs!"

The draggle-tailed man gave them both an apologetic bow. "Beg your forgiveness for our crude tongue—I won't pretend to be clever, but even I see what's comin'. I knew we had to run, the only question was where."

"Yeah, yeah, and then we's heard that the scions took in all them Doman refugees in Revenant's Toll!"

The man nodded, pleadingly looking to the Antecedent. "Surely you'd take us in too?"

"Yeah—we's work hard for ye! No questions asked!"

Minfillia had already begun to shake her head, her expressions mired concern, worry, and some apprehension. "I—I fear the situation is rather complicated. While it is true we accepted the Doman's petition for aid, that decision was the product of existential circumstance."

Azlyn watched their faces drop—as if the hope had been plucked from them. She would have commented, however her link pearl started to buzz. Minfillia turned to her, a questioning glance before Azlyn apologetically excused herself.

"I'll step back a moment." She bowed slightly to the refugees, before she walked to the bar. She tapped her linkpearl and spoke calmly. "This is Azlyn." Even as she answered her linkpearl, she could hear Minfillia deny the refugee's for the known and expectant reasons.

Over the line there seemed to be a bit of… panic and chaos in the background. Her cousin's voice piped in over it.

"Azlyn, are you still in Revenant's Toll?"

"Yeah, what's going on over there?"

Kida popped in moment's after. "The peace demonstration the refugees were handling turned sour—many of the Blades are taking in and executing any refugees that are resisting—we're trying to keep the peace—but everyone's too fuckin' pissed off!"

"Azlyn, Alphinaud appeared to have been hurt too. Ozwin had been near him at the time, so he was able to grab him before he got trampled in the crowds—"

Azlyn's eyes widened. "Alphinaud was hurt? What about the others? What happened at the demonstration?" She hadn't realized her voice carried over to Minfillia and the others', as they stopped to listen.

"Some refugees brought weapons and started violently attacking and provoking others into civil unrest. Tensions boiled over—and well—Ul'dah is not looking too well." Roll explained. "You should get over here when you can. Avoid the main thoroughfare's if possible. We're in the Quicksand."

"Okay, I'll be there soon." Azlyn's linkpearl went dead as she clicked off the channel.

"Azlyn is aught amiss?" Minfillia looked to her with more concern than usual.

"The peace rallies turned into a riot of sorts—some refugees instigated it. It appears they wanted to start an uprising."

"What?" Minfillia was as shocked at the refugees with her.

"Alphinaud also had been injured in the event—Roll informed me just now."

"Is his wounds serious? What happened to cause such a thing?"

"I don't know Minfillia, but I'm going to head over there to find out. They're in the Quicksand, awaiting for the chaos to die down. The Blades are currently… out grabbing any refugee they can."

The draggle-tailed refugee shook his head earnestly. "That can't be right! Why would they!? They must've been provoked! The demonstration was meant to be peaceful!" His other compatriots gave each other concerned glances, fretting. "Now them Blades have an excuse—they'll round us up an' kill anyone who resists!"

"Seven Hells!" The third silent one of the group cursed, before shaking their head.

Azlyn frowned, something about this felt a sour aftertaste in her mouth.

"Antecedent please! If you won't help us build a new life, at least help us keep the ones we got!" The draggle-tailed refugee pleaded to her—and she looked between them and Azlyn.

"We are not ones to stand idly by and watch innocents suffer. However, until we know more circumstances of the riot, I am not certain what aid, if any, we can provide." She crossed her arms over her chest. "If the authorities determine that the refugees attacked without provocation, then those responsible will have to answer for their actions."

The refugees all looked dismayed, before slowly leaving the bar. Before the draggle-tailed refugee left, he gave one last statement to them. His eyes dead of any hope that once beheld them earlier that morning. "How can you be so blind…" And then left the bar.

Azlyn furrowed her brow, clenching her fists at the inevitability that this whole situation felt too… too perfect a chance to muddle up. "I'll go see how Alphinaud is doing—and see what I can do with the others to keep the peace."

"Pray, be careful in your travels. I shall reconvene with the others inside."

She nodded, and finally activated her teleport to the City-State of Ul'dah. When she first appeared in the main plaza where the giant aetheryte had been stationed—she could hear the chaos on the streets. Many people had been squished to the walls as Brass Blades did crowd control.

There was yelling, crying, screaming—there didn't seem an opportune moment to run through. Instead she opted to use the teleport to get to the Quicksand. It would get her closer but she'd have to climb the stairs and run inside before someone apprehended her.

No matter where she went the chaos was there, even in front of the Quicksand as many of the Flames blocked the doorways. Azlyn hopped up onto the fountain, running up on the bricks to spy another way in.

"Get down from there!"

"Lousy no good—"

Azlyn quickly hopped off as she crowd surfed through the Ul'dah citizenry.

A few moments later she stepped away from the crowd and leaned back against the wall. She'd get no farther if she attempted to squeeze through the crowds. Only for a hand to clamp upon her shoulder. She snapped her head to the side, seeing the familiar face of Mjnt and Kida. They gave her a grim nod, before gesturing to a lone entrance in the back.

"Momodi allowed us to sneak in through the supplies back door. Come on." Kida waved her over, and together the three of them quickly and quietly made their way inside. Before long they were moving through the kitchens and through the long halls back into the Quicksand where some of their group stood by. Azlyn could see Alphinaud had been sitting on one of the counter stools, with his head wrapped in gauze. Ozwin stood with his arms crossed, his expression had been dark, daring anyone to mess with them. Roll looked like she had just finished up healing the Sharlayan lad as he lifted a hand to touch his head.

Azlyn noticed that many of the people within the buildings were keeping separate, some injured and getting taken care of by the chirurgeons.

"Guys!" The Au Ra ran over with Mjnt and Kida on her flank. "It's chaotic out there—is everyone alright?"

"A few scraps and bruises. One guy decked me in the face." Ozwin presented the swollen eye on his left side.

"Ouch. Did you want to heal that?"

Roll smirked behind him, lifting up her cards. "I tried—but he said it was a Medal of Honor."

Alphinaud chuckled from his seat. "A valiant attempt to nab me from the mob—if I do say so Ozwin. But seriously, you all over exaggerate my wounds. I'm perfectly fine now after Roll's quick administrations."

"Well I'm glad you all are no worse for wear then." Azlyn relaxed, before leaning upon the bar next to them. "Where are Thuzu, Richi and Koroko?"

"They went to investigate on the recent riot—and why it started in the first place." Roll explained. "We may have used Koroko's officer position in the Flames to get permission though."

"How were the streets Mjnt? Kida?" Alphinaud asked, looking to the doors that had been posted with guards.

"There is discord everywhere you go." Mjnt explained. "Kida and I travelled through the residential areas, the steps of Nald and Thal, and made our way back when we spotted Azlyn upon the fountain. It is better than this morning, but the Blades are taking anyone who is resisting outright."

"Damn it." Kida clenched her fists. "Those Ul'dah rich bastards…"

"What?" Azlyn looked over to her friend. "What do they have to do with the riots?"

"Then it is as we feared." Roll sighed at once, shaking her head. "Alphinaud, perhaps it'd be best for you to explain."

The Sharlayan youth nodded as if that was to be expected. "Ul'dah is not in the best of places given these troubling events. And we know that this was anything but an isolated incident."

"The restlessness in the air, the tensions have long since grown to the point of simmering." Mjnt observed as she pulled up a stool from the counter. She gazed out to the few people that were being examined by the healers of the adventurer's hall.

"Indeed. And it's threatening to boil over." Alphinaud agreed.

Azlyn tilted her head, wondering why it was threatening to boil. This incident should have been the tensions boiling over. Unless there was something worse in store. "It's fortunate no one was too grievously injured."

"Ul'dah is a nation infamous for the great disparity between the wealthy and the poor. The majority of the populace accepts the state of affairs because they believe that every man bears responsibility for his own lot in life. To an Ul'dahn, money is the foremost—and some would say the only—measure of a man's worth. Small wonder that the wealthiest wield the greatest influence." Alphinaud bobbed his head as his explanation continued. He leaned back against the counter, as did the others as they turned to the groups that gathered within the Quicksand. "So where do the refugees fit into this social hierarchy? What place is there for those who fled Ala Mhigo and the destruction of the Calamity?"

"Outside and ostracized!" Kida fumed. "Those lousy, no-good, elitist fuckers!"

"In layman's terms—yes. There is no place for the refugees." Alphinaud did his best to simmer down the Xaela who had slammed a fist into the side wall. "They have no wealth, no power, and no worth. To the Ul'dahn way of thinking, they may as well not exist."

Mjnt frowned, her brows creased at her forehead. "It seems people hardly change, even in a centuries time. Money. Power. Corruption. No matter where one lives, it still exists."

"But not everyone is power hungry or money hungry…" Azlyn posed, crossing her arms. "There are those who just want to make ends meet… is that so wrong to want basic living rights?"

"According to the Ul'dahn way, it is." Roll countered with a low tone. "Remember Azlyn, not everyone has that rosy toned view of the world. Not everyone is kind. Not everyone is generous. And not everyone will do something without it benefiting them in some way."

"But choosing to ignore their existence is not an option." Azlyn presented with conviction.

"General Raubahn and the sultana understand this, which is why they ordered the Immortal Flames to provide the refugees aid and succor." Alphinaud provided, his answer gave their group some semblance of hope for Ul'dah's future—given the Monetarists and Royalists agendas… at least as Azlyn mentioned there were some who wished for the health of the refugees. "Yet this causes another problem. The expenses incurred by this policy continue to grow by the day, with no end in sight. This has prompted more and more Ul'dahns' to question their obligation to aid these worthless wanderers… as Roll as stated—not everyone is generous and not everyone is kind."

"More and more refugees have come to resent their treatment at the hands of the citizenry." Ozwin offered, as the person who'd been silent through their exchange, he seemed in agreement with Roll's viewpoint.

"The manner of Lord Lolorito's refusal to grant the Domans asylum bespoke a disdain for all refugees—an attitude shared by the rest of the Monetarists. And you may be sure they make no effort to conceal their opinions." Alphinaud ended with a sour note in the air. There wasn't much else they could do about the given situation, and given the path chosen by the city-state themselves—well Azlyn couldn't force or change the mindsets of close minded people… even if that were possible, it'd be wrong of her to try.

After all, this was the life these people chose for themselves. Who was she, or any of them, to judge them?

"It was only a matter of time before the refugees united in protest. Not is it any surprise that some among them would ultimately resort to violence."

"Which Thuzu, Richi, and Koroko should be coming back from their investigations soon. They could have discovered more about the reason why this happened." Mjnt gave a grim smile.

"I didn't see many of the Immortal Flames in town—mostly just the Brass Blades." Azlyn observed. "Where are they at?"

Ozwin flicked his finger away from him as if flicking some dust away. "Surprise, surprise—they've been chosen to engage in a joint training exercise with the other Grand Companies—by the time they return, well Kida's bet it'll be a dumpster fire."

Kida snorted. "Well, duh."

"The relations will deteriorate beyond mending." Azlyn slowly cupped her chin within her hand. A worried expression blossomed upon her face. "No wonder those refugees from this morning looked worried. This is… well… pretty bad to say the least."

They all dropped into an awkward quiet, as the noises from the others within the halls quickly overtook them. Kida and Ozwin looked out over the crowds inside, many of them were high class citizens. There didn't appear to be any refugees given access within the Quicksands—which left a sour taste in most of their mouths.

However it wasn't long for them to wait, as three individuals arrived from the back store. Momodi waved in greeting as two familiar Lalafellin's arrived, alongside a bristling Miqo'te. His expression was darkened, and from what all could glean from it—they probably had no good information they could share about the current predicament.

"How'd the preliminary investigation go?" Roll inquired first, looking to Koroko Koko who grimly nodded her head.

"Hmm. Hmm. Hm. I believe a place best suited for less eyes and ears will suffice." She looked to Richi. "Richiro, please go to Mistress Momodi for access to the storeroom in back."

Uncharacteristically serious, Richiro Wichiro bobbed his head once before walking over to the counter calling to the proprietress. After that it wasn't long before all nine were stuffed in a slightly darkened storage room with a heavy door that locked on the outside. Alphinaud gave Koroko a quizzical look before their explanation evolved.

It appeared that they found a few refugees who had escaped the brass blades in the out skirts of the settlements, scared of being caught up in all that occurred. According to the three's investigation they found out a mysterious merchant riled the refugees into action—providing them weapons and armor pieces that looked too expensive compared to what they would typically afford.

This was the first point they all came to a consensus about. The second point they arrived at was that this merchant was up to no good riling the refugees—but he was not the mastermind—someone else with more power and the money was.

The last point had been that some of the brass blades attending the demonstrations were also influenced and tempted by someone of higher power and status to provoke the refugees to riot.

Now the worst part had yet to be delivered, as their resident caster sat with one of her legs crossed over the other. She sat high on a few of the stacked crates, giving her a bit of height as she looked to the group.

"With all this coming to a head, Thuzu, Richi and I took to our findings—and discovered the merchant behind it all." She clasped her hands together atop her lap. "We surrounded him at Scorpion's Crossing, hoping to detain him for the Immortal Flames to interrogate him…"

Richi frowned heavily.

"However someone killed him in front of us." Thuzu responded with a bit of dark resentment. "Someone wishing to keep this quiet and someone who doesn't want us snooping around their business."

Koroko gravely nodded. "And I think we're going to figure out more." She unclamped her hands before gesturing for Kida to the door. "We shall have company in just a moment."

Everyone blinked, before a loud banging started to rumble against the wood. Slowly they all looked over to Koroko and then back to the door.

"How does she…" Ozwin whispered over to Azlyn.

She whispered right back. "Her gift seems clairvoyant in nature."

"Ah." He frowned. "Wait, I thought she saw us in our futures at what we're best at."

Azlyn smiled, wondering if that was something Koroko said and used to put people at ease. Her gifts could unnerve many or make others want to use her for their own gains. Perhaps it was a defensive way to prevent others from taking advantage of her.

Kida pulled open the door, revealing their new guest. They hadn't expected the tall man with the grisly scars across his face to arrive. The general of the Immortal Flames himself had arrived to their secret hiding spot.

"I see Momodi was right about you being here. Your presence is requested in the Royal Promenade. Her highness wishes to speak with everyone present." He didn't say much else, and together the group travelled out from the storage room and back into the heart of Ul'dah. Given the Immortal Flames presence in the avenues, the peace had been restored for a spell. For how long it would last? Well, that would depend on the orchestrator and their next devious plots of rebellion.