Final Fantasy Tactics: Binding the World Together *Redux*

Fluorgis. Hah, what a city. Gerner Baheela, a proud and tall Bangaa, strode through the city's streets on the early morning. The city was constantly a bustle of motion, merchants, and, if one did not take care, pickpockets. The city was renowned for housing one of the aerodromes in Ivalice, which made it the prime target for small thieves - mostly just harmless Moogles who had gone down a stray path. Leechessss... Gerner thought to himself, as his amber, snakelike eyes narrowed in disdain.

The fact of the matter was that he was in Fluorgis that very morning as summoned. He had anticipated his... 'services' as a mercenary to be called upon that very morning. Typically his only business in the big city was restricted to dealing with the petty criminals that thought so highly as to rob the wealthy merchants who took up shop in the city. However, today was a different day. He had received a summons to meet with some others in the local pub. As he sauntered through the street, he couldn't help but let his lips curve slightly upward into a bit of a smile. Today, he would join a Clan. He hoisted his sword to rest upon his shoulder, and strolled proudly down the main street of the city, piercing right through all of its activity.

That was when he felt it. A small thump against his leg. Gerner looked down, a growl escaping his lizardlike lips. It was a Moogle, just as he had suspected. The towering, teal-skinned Bangaa reached down to pluck the urchin off of the streets. "What issss it exactly," he leaned closer to the small Moogle, who was probably quite terrified out of his wits by this point, "that you think you are doing, hmm?" The small, furred creature struggled for a few moments, not responding with anything but squeaks of protest. Gerner let out a low, rumbling guttural laugh. "Boy, I have no Gil for you to ssssteal. Run along, and don't let me catch you again, ah?" He threw the Moogle to the ground, attracting attention from a nearby guard. The Bangaa Warrior raised an eyebrow at the man, as though daring him to come closer. When he did not, Gerner smirked mockingly, passing along on his merry way. "Humesssss..." he chortled to himself, sharing a mocking joke with nobody, though he was his own best company.

He took his time getting to the Pub, and when he finally made it, he looked to the bartender for some ale. "I'll have your finesssst, Hume," he said with a terrible smile that showed a couple of chipped teeth. Oh yes, he would certainly need some ale to put up with those who were yet to assemble. He headed to the back room, opening the door without so much as a knock. Inside, he found who he presumed to be his Clanmates. The Judge had arrived, and turned to him now.

"Now, do you five swear to follow the Oath of the Judges of Ivalice?"

The low voice had been tainted by a metallic edge. Often, he had heard tales from his father about how the Judges often brought about a feeling of calmness to those who they presented themselves to. He now felt that same waft of tranquility roll over him. Gerner shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. Today was the day. "Yeah yeah, your honour. I sssswear it on the grave of my father," at the mention of his father, he spat on the ground. "May he resssst in peace... oh wait, he ressstsssss in a Jagd." The Bangaa's disdain for the lack of honour and the shortcomings of the Judges in such areas was evident, but his swearing was at the very least genuine. He cast a glance over his Clanmates, as though challenging them to rise up and object.