Lovers 'n Fighters

Nene can sometimes be spotted near the ocean, looking pensive and lonely. She always appears to be lonely somehow, with a profile view that exudes exquisite sadness. An unusually small harp, which if asked she’d tell you was an Ishgardian harp, rests in her quaint lap.

If you take her by surprise, in the moment before she notices your presence, you can just barely make out a hauntingly sad melody with a ghostly voice to match, as if part of her voice was the sea breeze itself.

And the water is your friend The water is your friend And down and down and down you go Gonna buy you a red dress, And put feathers in your hair And resurrect the finer things I lost when you disappeared

When she hears the sand behind her disturbed, her voice stops with the breeze, slowly and then all at once. She glances over her shoulder at you, looking for all the world like a lost child.

“How are you holding up?”

“It gets easier,” she murmurs back to you, taking your offered assistance in standing. Without a tail, the balance she’d always taken for granted is well and truly compromised. Once she is on her feet again, the same regal bearing comes back as she picks up the small harp and strings it onto her back. “You never met her, did you... She wasn’t on the ship when you rescued me...”

A long, wistful glance out to see. Then her eyes clear, and she glances up at you. “Sorry for the delay.”

“Where did you hear the song? It doesn’t seem to be the usual variety.”

“The widows in Limsa Lominsa sing all kinds of songs.”

Bold is what applies Strike/Bold means can be but not often