Video
[The video comes on when a man's hand covered in some... rather colourful rings fall onto the device as he rolls over. This is Balthier, semi-conscious and groaning. Or at least part of Balthier's elaborate vest. He shifts again as he comes to and then you have a lovely view of the cieling of the cave. Or at least the dark gloom where the ceiling eventually is. There's a low groan as Balthier stirs into something resembling consciousness.]
Fran... Are you awake?
[Another grunt, and you can hear a shuffling sound as he sits up.]
...Fran?
...Oh hell and damnation...
[You get a flash of movement from the corner of the screen as Balthier stands quickly and comes into view. He's a tall man, well groomed and equally well dressed. He carries a heavy looking pistol with elaborate gilt design, and two waistpouches sit upon hips that do not lie.]
Well this is new. [The pirate inspects himself for any missing belongings and is surprised to find everything still intact. Even the Auracite in his waistpouch. He brushes some dirt from his sleeve and surveys his gloomy surroundings.] I am neither drunk nor dreaming, so what manner of peculiar happenstance do I find myself in, I wonder? ... [He murmurs to himself. He has a deep voice, highly cultured but there's a brusqueness to his tone. He pauses in his musing and looks down.] Well hello there... [He picks up the tablet device and inspects it.] Well, well. You're a curious little thing.
[He shakes his head, as though to clear the cobwebs. He doesn't have time for distractions. He needs to find Fran (if she's even here) and get back to Rabanastre. He places the tablet into one of his waistpouches which is oddly brighter inside from faint glow of various bits of magicite, phials of ether, remedies and potions, and a large hunk of Auracite he stole from the Cache of Glabados. Eventually his walking jolts the tablet enough to shut it off.]
---
[Surprisingly, the device comes on again after about an hour and a half, this time quite deliberately and you get a good look at the newcomers face. He's good-looking, in his twenties with cropped brown hair, eyes the same gray as an overcast sky, and immaculately trimmed sideburns groomed into two perfect points.]
When one wakes up alone on a back alley floor, he expects to be robbed of his possessions right down to his boots, not in possession of a new communications device and all his valuables still intact. Might I inquire as to the nature of my being brought here? Wherever 'here' happens to be.
Fran... Are you awake?
[Another grunt, and you can hear a shuffling sound as he sits up.]
...Fran?
...Oh hell and damnation...
[You get a flash of movement from the corner of the screen as Balthier stands quickly and comes into view. He's a tall man, well groomed and equally well dressed. He carries a heavy looking pistol with elaborate gilt design, and two waistpouches sit upon hips that do not lie.]
Well this is new. [The pirate inspects himself for any missing belongings and is surprised to find everything still intact. Even the Auracite in his waistpouch. He brushes some dirt from his sleeve and surveys his gloomy surroundings.] I am neither drunk nor dreaming, so what manner of peculiar happenstance do I find myself in, I wonder? ... [He murmurs to himself. He has a deep voice, highly cultured but there's a brusqueness to his tone. He pauses in his musing and looks down.] Well hello there... [He picks up the tablet device and inspects it.] Well, well. You're a curious little thing.
[He shakes his head, as though to clear the cobwebs. He doesn't have time for distractions. He needs to find Fran (if she's even here) and get back to Rabanastre. He places the tablet into one of his waistpouches which is oddly brighter inside from faint glow of various bits of magicite, phials of ether, remedies and potions, and a large hunk of Auracite he stole from the Cache of Glabados. Eventually his walking jolts the tablet enough to shut it off.]
---
[Surprisingly, the device comes on again after about an hour and a half, this time quite deliberately and you get a good look at the newcomers face. He's good-looking, in his twenties with cropped brown hair, eyes the same gray as an overcast sky, and immaculately trimmed sideburns groomed into two perfect points.]
When one wakes up alone on a back alley floor, he expects to be robbed of his possessions right down to his boots, not in possession of a new communications device and all his valuables still intact. Might I inquire as to the nature of my being brought here? Wherever 'here' happens to be.