Final Fantasy Tactics Advance: Again, Ivalice

"Again!" The blade came flashing up, and he batted it away with the slender shaft of metal he held. "Again!" Once more, the sound of steel on steel rang in his ears.

Ching! Ching! Ching! Spang!

"Hey! No fair!" Shaking his smarting hands, the Human glared at the Bangaa, who was hissing with laughter. "No jumping in and using a shield! My hands are all numb now!"

"You'll never last if you can't handle the unexpected." Shaking her head, Latna suddenly found herself instinctively warding off several punches and kicks, seeming to come from all directions at once. The Bangaa stepped in with his shield again, only to find himself whipped around and thrown to the ground a short distance away. "Stop! Hold off dammit!"

"Why? I'm winning." Grinning, the Human spun around as Latna's thin bladed sword cut a neat slit across his back. Catching the female's wrist, he planted his palm firmly in the middle of her breast plate, dumping her on her rear end. "Correction, won."

Grumbling, Latna looked around. Her Estoc was planted point first into the trunk of a tree, it's blade still quivering. "You took a little too well to the White Monk fighting style." Taking the offered hand, she stood up, and suddenly leaned against his side. "Desmond, you know my offer still stands." Her long pointed ears tilted a little forward.

Latna was a Viera, and a rather attractive one at that. All of her race had rabbit ears and distinctively pale hair, usually kept rather long. They also tended to wear minimalist style clothing, or, to be more accurate, minimal clothing. The entire race was easily described as tall, slender, and quick.

Forever wearing a quiver of arrows over her shoulder, Latna always made sure to carry a bow close at hand, even though she preferred to stick to her Fencer profession. That made it all the odder when, for such a pragmatic person, she insisted on wearing such an eye-catching shade of orange.

"And my answer is still the same... For today, at least." Desmond wore his dark hair long, for a Human male anyway, down to the middle of his back and bound back in a tight tail with a leather cord tied at the nape of his neck. In contrast to Latna's bright orange sleeveless crop top and miniskirt, he wore a pale blue tunic and dark grey trousers. "Turon, still down?" Blinking his wide green eyes, the Human looked over at where the stout Bangaa had landed.

Like all of his race, Turon had tough orange hide, a longish snout, and quite a few sharp teeth filling his rather large mouth. "I'm fine, jussst a little sssore." They also had a tendency to hiss a bit, and didn't seem to notice it at all. In fact, they claimed that Human's lisped when they spoke.

Sporting a long cut blue tunic, various bits of armor on his chest and arms, and a solid metal helmet with stylized cheek guards that just about covered his entire snout, Turon looked just about like any other Bangaa Desmond had met. Except for the scar running down one side of his head, it barely showed when he wore his helmet, just the tail end of a black line running down from under the cheek guard.

"Sorry, I didn't realize that I threw you so hard." Pulling away from Latna, Desmond stooped to pick up his blade. It was a simple weapon, a Stinger, a basic Viera Fencer's sword, and it looked it. The weapon consisted of a narrow, single edged blade, a simple crossguard with upswept quillions, and a handle wrapped with leather dyed bright green. Viera sure did love their bright colors.

"It'sss ok. I can sssee our little friend coming up the hill from here." Pointing with one arm, Turon gathered up his shield with the other and struggled up into a sitting position. "How doesss he move ssso quickly with sssuch ssshort legsss?"

"Kupo to you too Turon." Shaking his head, the short statured figure stood with his hands on his hips. A brass colored pistol was tucked into the little Moogle's belt. Like all his race, he was barely waist high to most adult humans, colored white, and had a little red ball on an antennae sticking out of his forehead. The Moogles called them 'pom-poms' and didn't like to have them touched or fiddled with, which was hard to resist, as most people found them to be an extremely cute race as a whole.

"I did some checking around, kupo." The small Gunner shook his head, not looking at anything in particular. "Another one had opened up near Lutia Pass." Frowning, he absently brushed at the front of his green velvet jacket. "It's been happening ever since he left, kupo."

"Well, I guess that means I should check it out, yes?" Desmond turned and walked over to the pile of the group's belongings. "I'll need my other clothes and pack for this trip, I think." Sliding the Stinger back into it's sheath, he unbuckled the belt that held it, and tossed it on the ground. "You guys can come as far as Nubswood if you like, it's on the way to Cyril after all." Pulling his tunic off, he found himself staring at three different sets of eyes.

"We'll come with you the whole way." Turon stood up and moved to gather up his things. "After all, that'sss what friendsss are for." Scooping up a tiny pack, he casually tossed it to the Moogle. "Right Montblanc?"

"Kupo! That's right, we're a clan after all." Catching the pack, Montblanc shrugged it on, and checked to make sure his Aiot gun was secured for overland travel. It wouldn't do to have his weapon slip out of his belt at the wrong time, say, when they were crossing the Ulei river.

Latna wrenched her Estoc free of the tree, shook it off, and slid it into the scabbard belted to her slim hips. "I'm eager to see just what kind of a fighter this friend of yours is Montblanc." Smiling, she glided over to pick up her pack, and her travelling cloak. "After all, I didn't join clan Nutkin until after he had left Ivalice."

"Kupo? Marche is a tough fighter, he's the one who freed all the Totema spirits up for the clan to use!" Nodding at this simple fact, Montblanc walked over to help the gather up everything, passing Desmond his odd looking hat. "Here, kupo."

The hat was unique in that it had a long brim running only about a quarter of the way around the hat, and had a large, oddly shaped white leaf on a blue background. "Thanks." Tugging the cap on, Desmond tucked his short sleeved red shirt into his weird blue pants that had long seams running up the outsides of both legs.

"I ssstill don't get why you wear that hat." Turon shook his head as he shouldered his backpack, his shield held on a strap over one shoulder. Latna and Montblanc were both ready, and impatient to go.

"What, you're not a fan of the Leafs?"

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A short chapter to begin, but then, I might write them all this way, as it's easier to spellcheck and post them.

Questions and comments are always welcome.