I don't own 10-2

Chapter 2:

I am not a people person. It took years of adventuring to figure that out. I enjoy my own company. If I had figured that out earlier I probably wouldn't have nearly as many scars but I also wouldn't have the knowledge that allows me certain political advantages over acolytes and priests, all with their own agendas. The but to that is that I probably wouldn't have had the worst experience of my life either. Even though I am an accomplished time mage messing with the time is dangerous as it could alter outcomes of big events such as sin being destroyed. I may be a misery guts but it doesn't mean I'm a selfish misery guts. That's how I see it anyway.

Compiling a fiend report entails first finding the next fiends name from a giant reference keys with page after page of names then finding references in dusty old books from years gone by to the most up to date bestiary in current use: Shinras bestiary complied during the Gullwings adventures. Then I record the class, moves, weaknesses and so on then find a decent sketch or picture to go with it. In the information box strategies notes and tactics are added for quick reference. And a bibliography so extended information can be easily located. A dull job. Better than doing sentry duty, worse than sphere research. Its probably my battle experience that got me assigned this task of going through endless books that are in dire need of a good dusting.

Time ticked on slowly. I raise my head for what seems like the thousandth time to see its only 11:20. I haven't eaten in 18 hours haven't drunk in nearly six and am suddenly aching for something to stick my spear into.

The Praetor walked in.

I was instantly on my feet the chair being pushed backwards with it protesting against the coarse carpet. The Praetor strolled in with two priests and four bodyguards as one might walk across a field.

"Yer Praetorship" I said bowing

"Acolyte Miranda I trust your task is progressing well?"

"It is"

Friendly chat much?

"What letter have you reached?"

"Q Yer Praetorship" I spoke formally, I sounded casual

"You may continue"

"Thanks Yer Praetorship"

I half consciously bowed sitting myself back down in the same motion. The seven visitors strolled out much like they came in.

Own the place much.

And gold in the Spira Undermining Championships goes to...

Praetor Baralai had been the subject of much curiosity since his disappearance 17 months ago, sudden reappearance 16 months ago. Then Lady Paine's strange disappearance days later. He still seems distracted even with the time passed. Speculation and rumours have been rife saying things like Baralai was in love with the taciturn warrior, Paine was a manic depressive and killed herself and became a fiend. She was killed by one. Kidnapped. Hiding from something. Journey of training. Doesn't wanna be found. Some extremists say Paine wasn't in love with Baralai so hes holding her hostage someplace or even as far as he killed her. No sightings, no word many people think she's dead. As for the truth? Only Paine knows that.

Further reading into the Quinal Locon tells me it is thought to be extinct, wiped out at some point in history. All dead except for the comedian who trapped one in the book. The one I killed this morning. I scribbled 'thought to be extinct' into location box. What puzzles me is in a great many books intricate details about a fiend's anatomy are often given. Must take some work to suppress a fiend let alone something highly dangerous like a Quinal Locon and poke around its innards without it waking up or it going with the wind.

Question for someone who has a lot of time on their hands. A large number of body guards and the world's largest scalpel.

By four o'clock I'm well into the letter R with a minor encounter with an irate Reynaldo. And trust me this is a good day.

I pack up and leave the Halls of Knowledge with several new notices stuck to books. Sometimes when books are shut the spell that traps the beast there renews itself as the fiends spirit is infused into the pages. I found out the hard way after defeating a Claret Dragon. I packed up before finishing the report and had to kill it again the next morning.

Most of that day was lost putting warning on books A-C whilst nursing a whiplash injury. I was in a vile mood for the rest of the day. Nothing short of burning the books would solve the problem. And I'd get kicked out for doing that.

I stride personally to the halls of training intent of beating the hell out of an inanimate object or the air. As I move down the endless halls making twists and turns I feel my stomach rumble, my brain swim and my muscles tense. Must really improve my eating habits. Hand on the wall and with great effort I control it.

No-one saw. I gathered myself and continued to the halls.

Hand to Hand combat

Attack combos with my spear

Staff twirling and spell stances in Time mage

Duel staff twirling and spell stances with Red Mage

I also made a point of training with a sword to keep my skills sharp with the weapon I don't have the Warrior dressphere but I diligently practice my swordswomanship every day just like I was taught. I even had a sword dance that incorporated all my techniques. All in my floor length coat. Ain't life great!

I bring it round in the final step and return it to the cupboard.

Staff twirling, punch throwing, spear comboing, sword slashing makes you hungry

The hourly chime tell me its five, time for tea

I wipe the sweat off my face with one heavily embroided sleeve cool off with blizzard

Brushing away the flakes and returning the warren of passages that lead to the refectory. Funny how killing things works up an appetite