In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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Strago's walking stick hit the ground in time with his left leg, taking a bit of pressure off the muscles on it which had recently started to ache a little. It wasn't much, not enough to keep him bedridden or require a caretaker, but enough that the Rod was a handy thing to have on hand. And on foot.
This town was bizarre. Not like any of the towns he had been in before, that's for sure. It was like a moogle dance: seemingly random, yet beautiful, with a unique pattern below it if one looked carefully enough. Strago smiled. Relm would have loved to paint this. Who knows, though, where she was. Maybe here, maybe somewhere else entirely! He hoped she had been enjoying herself. It wouldn't be right for her to have spent her time worrying about him.
He wandered about where the nice man in the ship had dropped him off. He had travelled through SPACE! That was an experience he'd love to repeat someday. But here? Here was a town of night and lights. He wondered how they managed to get them so bright. Probably like Edgar's flasher gizmo. Mechanics, that was the word. Mechanics.
One thing was certain. Whatever he did now, there was much more than he knew for him to learn.
Today had been successful. Between getting Locke out of that apartment of his and off-world, and finding Relm here, Edgar was quite satisfied with how things had gone so far. Now the three of them were walking through the First District, catching up on the events of the last three years.
It was the king that spotted him first. Of course there was no mistaking that white mohawk, and the cape and the Rod just sealed it. Ah, but what would be the fun in it if he was the first one Strago saw? Instead, he leaned over to Relm, and pointing at her grandfather, spoke quietly.
