Wriothesley

A former inmate of Fort Meropide, Wriothesley has since become its Steward and has implemented a number of reforms under his watch. Mayor of Fort Meropide." If Wriothesley had a business card, that's the only thing he'd put on it. Without unnecessary verbiage, he oversees that taciturn place on the seabed where exiled criminals go. As a place of residence for criminals, and despite the discretion of the place, the conflicts of interest of Fort Meropide are a cause of corruption for many. In fact, even if someone were to plot to sneak into this place, they would disappear as quickly as a piece of bread in soup. When someone flatters His Excellency the Duke for being so good at solving problems, he puts down his cup of tea and... grabs a newspaper. "You're not getting it right. These people just want a place with rules to live in. I'm just giving them the peace of mind they need."

appearance

Wriothesley uses the tall male model. He has a black coat with black fur, silver cuffs on the belt, gray pants with a small button on each side and a silver rhombus, long black boots, he wears a crimson gray-brown jacket on the front with rhombic buttons that have a darker color in the center and the sleeves of the jacket are rolled up with two buttons of the same rhombic shape, only now the button is gold and the middle one is painted red. He has black bandages on his hands that do not reach his fingers, all his fingers have silver rings, and he wears a silver fish-shaped brooch on his right hand. He has a scar under his eye and also has a scar on his neck with a black bandage. His hair is black with gray streaks and his eyes are light blue.

Wriothesley is the Duke of Fort Meropide, serving as administrator of the prison and overseeing the general condition of the facility. Despite his appearance, Wriothesley is quite calm and collected, not caring too much about the prison's infamous reputation, as he only sees himself as a sort of "leader" who oversees the population and makes sure they have the "tranquility" they desire. Wriothesley does not hold much grudge against Neuvillette and is willing to collaborate with him to maintain law and order in the prison. He is highly respected both inside and outside of prison, having been one of the few individuals to be granted a noble title by the Mermonia Palace, something considered rare and a privilege in Fontane society. Outside of his duties, he likes to drink tea.

One thing that comes as a relief to the Prosecutor's Office is that most of the citizens of Fontaine Court are law-abiding, so they hardly have to deal with anything related to Fort Meropide. But there is also a logical and sad fact at the same time: that those who serve their sentences there find it difficult to reintegrate into the society on the surface - also called "Aguarriba" in the jargon of the prisoners - and rarely talk about their experience in Aguabajo. More than a specific place, Fort Meropide is a kind of concept that is very present in the discourse of the people of Fontaine as a symbol of warning, misfortune or punishment, and it is not important to know who governs the place from which this concept comes. However, thanks to this, Wriothesley can be like a hermit living in Fontaine a life that is not at all in keeping with his status as a duke. While people are saying things like, “If you give me trouble again, I’ll punch you to Fort Meropide” or “This is a horrible thing to do. I’d rather be tightening screws at the bottom of the sea,” the warden of this submarine fort is on his way to a café to order some sweets to go.

Wriothesley rarely leaves Fort Meropide. Having personally built up a network of contacts and information, he simply sits in his office and waits for the information he needs to reach him. However, if there is one thing he understands, it is that he cannot spend all day in his office working piecemeal. Otherwise, he would either never sleep or sooner or later fall into an eternal underwater sleep. In order to rule the Fort more comfortably, he has to think about the two most important things: money and people. Fortunately, Fort Meropide operates like a giant factory of sorts, and Wriothesley is very good at making money, so even Mermonia Palace is a client of his. In reality, he doesn't give this client special treatment because he craves more power, since the Fontaine authorities cannot interfere in the affairs of Fort Meropide, but rather he simply wants the Mora, and the more the better. So even though the Administrative Office is extremely strict with bureaucratic work, Wriothesley has always complied with everything they've asked of him. The massive demand for archium as research material at Fontaine's Institute for Scientific Research and Kinetic Energy Engineering might have been a match for Mermonia Palace, but the Institute was ruled out as a partner since it became a mere floating ruin. It remains to be seen whether fate wills that they collaborate again in the future. The mistake rich people make most often is overvaluing the power of money and believing themselves superior to others. Another fortuitous fact for Wriothesley is that he was not born rich, so he understands the importance of being good to others. Whether an inmate, a warden, or an employee, as long as they do their duty, he treats everyone at Fort Meropide the same and is rarely harsh on them.

On the other hand, if someone dares to stick their nose into a matter that goes beyond their responsibilities, then that's a different story. Aguabajo is a relatively isolated place and, since most people have nowhere to go, they have no choice but to stay there. Wriothesley appeals to people's common sense, but if words don't work, then he has to take other measures.

In fact, sometimes it's even better to ignore the inevitable bickering and trivialities that people tend to have. Smart people know better than to make a scene, and for dumb people there's somewhere to go. After all, people are like water: they purify themselves. To this day, Wriothesley has never worked himself to exhaustion and, in fact, even manages to squeeze in time off. Once, Clorinde, the executioner of justice renowned throughout Fontaine, visited the Fort and asked him: “Why do I have the feeling that you have even more free time than me? Did you buy your title of duke or what?” “Just a moment, please,” said Wriothesley, seeing that he was being questioned. Then he began to rummage through three drawers, pulled out some extremely thick documents and replied: “Let’s see, let’s see… ‘For your excellent management skills… and your impeccable tax payment record… we hereby award you this title’… Well, well, who would have thought? You might even be right!”

At Fontaine, where impartiality and self-sacrifice reign supreme, no title can be bought with money. Wriothesley and Clorinde were only teasing each other in that conversation they had during a break from tedious work. However, although he did not buy the title of “duke”, Wriothesley's appointment as warden of Fort Meropide did have something to do with “money”. The currency used in the Fort is Credit Coupons, which are used to make transactions. Things have been like this for a long time, it's just that there are many versions to explain the origin. When Wriothesley was still an inmate at the Fort, Coupons could be exchanged more freely and more things could be purchased with them than now. As long as you had enough of them, you could buy unhealthy drugs, 100% accurate betting predictions, indecisive people, and even the right to breathe. These were all illegal transactions, but the legal ones were not free of scandal either: if you had no contacts, you could only buy water and food in the canteen at exorbitant prices, and what was written on the lucky slips were not mystical proverbs, but real, additional work that had to be completed on the same day. More than money, the Credit Coupons of that time were the tool with which the former warden controlled the inmates. Sure, making rule-breakers fight each other in the midst of chaos sounds like a good method of control, but Wriothesley didn't agree. He could fight to survive as long as the environment was right, but if it wasn't, he wouldn't sit back.

He spent a lot of time gathering funds in the underground boxing arena, funds which he then used to buy more money. He was good at observing and persuading others, as well as keeping a low profile, so before many people realized, he had more Credit Coupons than them.

Thanks to the wealth he had accumulated, he had built up an excellent reputation among the other inmates, but then the inevitable happened. Overnight, the former warden of Fort Meropide had his account reduced to zero. However, as has been said before, Wriothesley is very good at persuading others. Using his provocative way of speaking, if he could make everyone realize that as long as this warden was in power, anyone, rich or poor, could suffer the same misfortune, then eventually someone would speak up for him. He would then wait for the right moment to act honestly and others would join him in filling the void they felt. He therefore challenged the former warden of Fort Meropide to a duel in the name of equality, justice and order. Such a duel should not have been lawful given that they were inmates in a prison, but none of those present, whether other inmates or warders, objected to it. It was a great stroke of luck that the then warden fled at the last moment, so Wriothesley was saved once again. The only bad thing was that it was the last day of his sentence and, as there was no warden, no one could arrange for his release from the Fort. And so, he entered the office located in the center of Fort Meropide and took on all the work.

Once he had been cleared to read some of the files, Wriothesley looked at his own. There wasn't much information in it, but it was all the Fontaine authorities had found. The purchase record from his foster family only stated that he was an abandoned child who had been adopted, but there was no other valid information. As he looked through the documents, he saw some names that sounded familiar and vaguely remembered some faces that eventually faded away as he turned the pages. If he wanted to, he could mobilize his contacts to investigate the whereabouts of these people, but he immediately dismissed the idea. For them, Wriothesley represented a time in their lives they did not want to remember, and for him, those names were of people who were no longer part of his life, since he now had a new identity, a new home and new friends. This was something new for him, who knew many people, but very few could be considered real friends. Among his acquaintances there were also many non-humans, such as the melusines, who love to deal with people. If one only looks at their appearance, one would not know how old these little beings really are, who are as kind to humans and as innocent as old ladies, and who believe that people, at such a young age, are good by nature and deserve all possible care for their future full of possibilities. Wriothesley has been the subject of the care of the Melusines several times. When he was a vagabond wandering the streets, a Melusine saw him and brought him a hot soup; or when he needed to investigate some confidential matter, the female agents of the Ghost Gendarmerie provided him with help within the legal limits.

That's why he tacitly allows the Melusines to visit Fort Meropide. Even if it involves some unnecessary inconvenience, the head nurse already warns them of what they need to know. Besides, Wriothesley doesn't really need to worry too much about beings sticking stickers everywhere without him noticing.

As he stared at the red stain spreading across the floor, Wriothesley had a most inappropriate thought: how many Melusine agents would it take to investigate all the traces of blood in this place? Following the train of his thoughts, he jumped to something else: and to think that those who had deceived him had blood so similar to his that both could fuse without any problem... It made him gag just thinking about it. However, he could no longer vomit; in fact, he could not even move a single finger. As his consciousness blurred and his body temperature dropped, his head was left with only a thick fog. He realized that there was nothing in his life worth remembering. But if he had not died, it was because the gods wanted him to live carrying his guilt. When he woke up on a medical stretcher, he saw that he had both hands handcuffed to the railing of said stretcher. Then, a well-dressed woman looked at him nervously. She was sitting in a chair far away from him, perhaps because she thought he would be a young delinquent and antisocial. The woman took out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote: “What is your name?” As she read it, Wriothesley was silent for a while. Finally he remembered the obituary he had read in a newspaper, which mentioned a person with a long and complicated name who had lived a long and pleasant life. He did not particularly like the name, but he did not want to continue using the one his adoptive parents had given him. The woman lowered her head to write “Wriothesley” and left after informing him of the day she was due to appear in court; the day she would finally be able to get off that sickbed.

Wriothesley was very glad that the trial had gone well. Guilt had stained his hands blood red and taken root in his heart, driving him to crave only a fair verdict. He recounted the entire process of the murder even in some detail, leaving no room for people to argue about his case. And yet they argued. At first, in a failed attempt to find patterns of behavior, they argued about similar cases involving orphans. And then they asked for mercy for him, as they considered the person he took revenge on to be evil and he should not bear the blame.

However, all this backstory did not affect the verdict of the trial. When it was over, Wriothesley was sent to serve his sentence at the bottom of the sea. Before he left, the judicial officer in charge of writing the verdict in the case asked him to reconfirm his personal details. “Your name is... Wriothesley, right? What is your date of birth?” "... Today".

Wriothesley's mechanical gloves have undergone numerous modifications. To get to his origins, we have to go back to when he ran away from his foster home. Due to his age and build, he was not able to take down any adults by himself at the time, so he dedicated himself to wandering the streets, taking temporary jobs, learning from others, and researching how to unlock and create small mechanisms. Once he was as ready as possible, he would return to that damned place to reduce it to rubble. He created a mechanism that attached to his wrist and fired steel spikes that could penetrate any sufficiently soft surface. The problem was that it could only be used a certain number of times, and after a fight, the mechanism was as much on its last legs as Wriothesley himself. Except that there was no saving grace for Wriothesley. He took to participating in illegal boxing fights that had no set venue or rules. In order to win, and specifically to make money, he needed to continually modify the functions of his gloves, since the same trick would not work a second time on another opponent. Also, even if the gloves did not end up in scrap in the fight, someone else could steal or destroy them. In fact, on many occasions he had to start from scratch. Once he had access to better materials, the process accelerated. He no longer needed alchemical potions to operate his mechanisms, and he even began to rely on the assistance of some assistants from the Fontaine Institute of Sciences, who talked to him about mechanics and kept complaining about the accident that had occurred at the Institute. He found this all very curious. Although technological advances had resulted in an increase in crime, they were still helpful in handling all kinds of matters, so it was difficult to say whether things had gotten better or worse.

By then he had stopped boxing so much and only used his gloves to solve difficult problems. Instead of a tool to take life, they had become an object of praise and respect. No one but himself knew what crime he had committed, and however much reputation and honour he enjoyed, he was still the same Wriothesley as ever. He was neither a good person nor a bad one, just one who wanted to live.

The Vengeance

. The Vengerai “... However, ancient authors say that everything has its rise and decline, since nothing is eternal.” To get rid of the Fatui spies, Wriothesley swam around Fort Meropide for a short time. Although he didn't stay in the water for long, he noticed that his skin was a little red when he got out, but it returned to normal in no time. He didn't go to the infirmary to be examined, and he didn't plan to tell anyone. Everything that had happened in the last few years was proof that the prophecy was being fulfilled step by step, and each person, whether they believed in it or not, had their own opinion and didn't need that information. At Fort Meropide he knew some inmates who were historians, and although there were not many of them, they talked nonsense even when they were lucid. They asked the Illustrious Duke not to take it too seriously, as it was an evil that affected all researchers in that field. Obviously, Wriothesley did not care how they expressed themselves, as what interested him were their hypotheses. According to some people, if rise and fall are inherent to this world, then the sea that swallowed Remuria would also make its return one day. If so, the prophecy would cease to be a prophecy and become the norm. As with many things, Wriothesley had to see something to believe it. For example, when a mediation was to be held at Fort Meropide, the testimonies of the witnesses who had witnessed the scene were always different, which was why he always kept his opinion on past events to himself, and that of course included historical events, which were often exaggerated to seem more epic. For example, in the line “Even the great dragon of the abyssal depths bowed to his power” in the book “The Fall of Remuria,” that “dragon” could have simply been a gigantic Dragont.

The Vengeance

If you take away all those rhetorical devices, the rest were things that did have to be taken into account. Throughout his life, Wriothesley has always prepared for things that have not necessarily happened, as he does not like to end up panicking. Putting aside those personal fears, what remains is a sense of danger. And to deal with danger, he always has to make certain preparations, even if they turn out to be in vain.

the Vengeance

In the eyes of the grandeur of history, people and seashells smashed to pieces by the waves of the sea are exactly the same. So he began to build the Vengerai, a ship in which he invested a lot of resources and human capital without much hope of ever using it. He built this ship just in case a great disaster occurred one day, even though it had been who knows how long since the golden Fortuna brought civilization and prosperity to Fontaine. Regardless of what ended up happening, if he could get the Vengerai to work, at least the fights between Jurieu and Lourvine would have been of some use. “As the ancient authors say, everything has its rise and its decline, since nothing is eternal.”

Vision

”. Vision Wriothesley stood at the registration desk at Fort Meropide with his hands in his pockets. He had to show the clerk the paper on which his name and sentence appeared. But along with the paper, he also took out a crystal sphere as big as the palm of his hand. No... That was no simple glass sphere. Wriothesley blinked and wondered where such an object could have come from. The counter clerk took a deep breath. She was a very serious woman with a slightly wrinkled face. For a moment she couldn't contain her surprised expression. As she gripped a writing pen tightly, her lips made a gesture of parting, as if to say something, but in the end they closed again. Wriothesley thought she must have had a lot of experience living in such a place. He gripped his Vision tightly in the palm of his hand and said quietly, “Excuse me, ma’am…” She, who looked quite old now, did not reply. She merely took the paper from Wriothesley's hand and coldly looked behind him, as if to see if there were any more prisoners to be searched. After recording the necessary details, she wrote in the margin of the paper: "Hide." At that moment, Wriothesley realized that his days there were going to be even harder than on the streets. He was lucky that someone blocked the others' view so they wouldn't see what had happened, and he was also very lucky that the clerk at the registry was willing to help him. The pity was that he never saw her again since then, although that was not surprising, since in those days the employees of Fort Meropide came and went. The first thing he did when he was officially an inmate was to untangle some threads to turn them into thin wires that he tied to the inside of his clothes.

Vision

I had a fair amount of experience as a homeless person and I knew all too well that the hard part wasn't getting things, but keeping them. People have to sleep, so there was always a time when they were off guard. Valuable things they got during the day could be taken from them while they were sleeping and not be considered theft. His Vision was unlike anything else and was sure to attract the interest of others, for the bearers of Visions always attracted the attention of evildoers. In the following days, his suspicions were confirmed, as he learned that at least two or three Visions had been stolen. There were all sorts of versions about what happened next and who the Visions were, but Wriothesley cared little about that. He still felt very lucky, but he didn't really like the idea of ​​being safe at the expense of someone else's misfortune. Still, he pretended for a long time that he had not been blessed by the gods, which was not very difficult because he had been like that all his life. Time passed and he was already twice as old as when he entered the Fort. Then, he received an invitation from Mermonia Palace. According to conventional protocol, people who were awarded a title of honor were required to attend a ceremony, and ceremonies awarding the title of duke or similar were extremely extravagant. Wriothesley politely declined the invitation on the grounds that “his work was a bit special” and merely signed a certificate. He did not like crowds and was content with what he had, which was very unlike Fontaine people. After many working days with many exchanges of letters, Mermonia Palace finally agreed.

Vision

Before he left the Fort, he picked up his Vision, something he hadn't done in a long time, felt it around a bit, and realized it was lighter than he remembered and smaller than the palm of his hand. He found a nice little space in his clothes and hung it up there. The first person to comment on his departure from Aguabajo was the Chief Justice, who had given him the title of duke. Neuvillette smiled politely. He seemed much happier than Wriothesley himself, to whom he said: “Congratulations. You have finally discovered what you want to do.” Wriothesley smiled at him in reply and said nothing more.