#beatin

I took quick screenshots of the ones I could find, though I wouldn't be surprised if I missed a few lol.

Under a readmore because it's fairly image-heavy.

EDIT: Two NPCs I missed have been added.

"Breath in. Breath out."

Beatin sat on his lifted heels, the balls of his bare feet resting on the dirt beneath him. His arms were wrapped around his shins, and his head rested on his thighs. He could smell the soil churned up by his toes, the slight green scent of broken grass steps. Light rippled across the ground as wind shifted the way the treetops blocked out the morning sunlight.

"We all start as seeds, small and tiny in the ground. Everything you need to get big and strong is right here, right in this tiny little space. We could just stay here forever. But we don't want to stay here, do we?"

Beatin lifted his head slightly to see the row of tiny balled-up children around him slowly shaking their head. Some were rocking listlessly side to side or had rolled backwards to sit on their rears, while others had such a devotion to doing it right that they had every muscle tensed into the Seed Pose. A few had their eyes closed, but most were looking at their fellows for guidance.

Beatin smiled. "Slowly, slowly, reach up towards the sunlight. Up up up. Your roots stay in the soil but we are moving towards the light."

As Beatin uncurled from his pose the row of children followed his gestures, stretching their tiny bodies upward with lifted hands. There were people who referred to Beatin as a 'Gridanian establishment', as if he were a plant native to the region who had rooted there and never drifted on the wind. Beatin found this a bit unfair. He'd not be the man he was if he hadn't had the chance to wander, like the legendary Lonely Giant that gathered a diversity of seeds upon its skin as it traveled across Eorzea.

Like all men, he was a medley, an ecosystem of collected notions from his wide and diverse life. The sunglasses that protected his sensitive eyes were from Kugane, his litany of innuendo-laden songs were from Limsa, his tools were forged by molten furnaces raging against the cold heart of Ishgard. His 'Acorn Orchard' was populated by seedlings who'd been forced from their homes by tragedy, some journeying halfway across the continent to find shelter in his orphanage.

And this particular tradition, this manner of devotion to the forest that brought the entire body to bear as you prayed, was an old Duskwight sacrament. The kind that would give the more delicate Hearers conniptions, because despite their alleged connection to the will of the Elementals they seemed to think a forest as old as the stones would be upset by a finite human wiggling too much during their devotionals.

(This might have been part of why Beatin liked to do it outside in public view. Someone had to give the Hearers a bit of enrichment.)

"We spread our branches out, and breath out through the tips. Keep your breath flowing. Everything is a cycle. Feel the sap moving up through your trunk, to your branches, to your leaves. Spread your little twigs out wide to take in the sunlight and the clean air."

It wasn't good for children to sit still, either. Too much talk and they'd find an interesting bug on the ground to occupy their attention instead.

Beatin was a carpenter, not a healer or chirurgeon, and definitely not a nursemaid. He couldn't tell you what the the wisdom of Sharleyan scholars recommended for child rearing. But he knew that children who focused on the rhythm of their breath as they settled into their poses seemed to find the haze of their pain lifted, and a peace settle into their hearts.

It certainly worked for Beatin.

"Now bow down like the willow, branches hanging. Swing back and forth with the wind--gentle swaying, lad, this isn't a hurricane. Now back up like the cedar, tall and strong. Feel your roots drawing in water, feeding your body, making you grow even taller."

The practice taught them balance too, and grace. There was no reason a sacrament couldn't also benefit the body, in Beatin's opinion.

The group crouched, legs bent like cypress knees, then drew up tall like the spruce. Beatin bent one long leg placed his right foot carefully against the inside of his thigh. He tried not to smile as he saw the children wobbling one-legged around him. One toppled to the side, a young girl in a linen dress, and Beatin saw her face twist with shame.

Beatin's smile never wavered. "It's all right to sway a bit," he said, deliberately not looking at her to let herself not feel called out. "If you bend to one direction, simply come back up again. No tree stays perfectly still, or grows perfectly straight. Take your time to find the pose that's right for you. I've yet to meet a tree that's in a hurry."

"What about dryads?" piped up one lad, who had his arms out to each side to keep his balance. "Saw one chasing folks in the woods two weeks ago. Seemed in a hurry then."

Beatin smiled. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Sir?

Sir??

Oops all elezen! Some NPCs requested by the people (I got a lot of Elezen so I figured they could have their own batch. Next will be hyur - based off the other NPCs people requested lol)