Memoirs of Adventure Creative Writing Contest (NA) - Official Entry Thread

[MuteInPurple]

Weary Wanderer,
Follow my song

A love-
A love now far lost
To the farthest reaches of the land and sea.
I was willing to shine my brightest
I was willing to surpass thee.

Following made days dark and uncertain.
Reality ever changing-
Until the call for the final curtain.

Love Lost to me-
Fueled my despair and anxiety.
The fondest memory is in the aftermath of my love’s bounty
One he could not share with me.

Alone,
Shoulders heavy with a head I could not hold high
And my fondest memory-
Is of those that found me,
And the land that embraced me.

To those I’ve met- unknown unto you wanderer;
Deathisper gave me care-
L’iaho gave affections.
Gatrish taught me to laugh-
And also to practice patience.

Kairithian an elder brother-
And Raven the younger.
Both who would protect without hesitation, one another.
To Nayru and Akuma, who moved to a far reaching land-
Still give us their time, to give a smile and do what they can.

Lilandria had gifted our fellows with hearth and home,
And Bot who blessed such endeavors-
Even when instinct beckons to leave and roam.
All assisted with Devia-
Even if his was a lost home.

Lucifer and Alucard as a pair that brings love and comfort
Even in the darkest places they go.
Know Raigo and Liasi, awkward yet true
Saw our progress, helped us grow

Rogi, the newest addition
And still others unmentioned
Friends from other lands,
Those that followed me to Eorzea-
To quell the calling of temptation.

Adair, my lost love-
Gifted this memory to me.
Though foreign his affections now
The fondness keeps it clear to see

I was but a fledgling,
Bow and arrow settled in trembling hand.
As I am now-
Singing anthems to my found family band.

My fondest-
Are the gifts Eorzea gave me.
Gifts of courage, love, and place.
Now given home-
A place of welcome warmth.
One where my name is known-
The love they also have for me is shown.

Weary Wanderer,
My tale reminds me of all that has been lost-
Reminds me of what there still is to gain.
If your struggle is one that weighs heavy in your heart
If the world beyond gives a pain filled start
The names that this world gifted to me-
I hope you find comfort in the coming days
Fret not, for those names will appear to you in many ways.

Know this wanderer-
The climb may be more than you expect yourself to take
Fear not the darkness
But do not allow your life to be what is at stake
Your journey is far from over,
If you keep going you will be sure to find
One that you will recognize in time.

Should you ever find yourself lost in the dark
Know that your fondest settles warmth in your heart.
Names you never knew before-
Will fill you with impossible drive to soar.
Banish the dark, or the light-
Know that you still have the ability and strength to fight.
And when you fear all hope is gone-
Press on and remember my song.

A Friend,
The Mute Bard.

(If selected I would like the Scarf of Wondrous Wit)

[Altani-Adar]

At Providence Point, an adventurer came across a sealed ceramic bottle resting atop a high pile of snow. The adventurer pulled the bottle free and the snow, now loosened, crumbled just enough to reveal stone. Curious, they brushed more snow aside to reveal a gravestone, and in front of it, lilies. Once bright and full of life, they were now petrified and discolored by the cold. Time and the Highlands blizzards, with their horrible ice and bone-chilling winds, had eroded the stone's epitaph into illegibility. The adventurer inspected the bottle closely, searching for a clue as to who this grave belonged to. With uncharacteristic clumsiness, they dropped the bottle. The brittle ceramic shattered against the gravestone and revealed a note rolled up tight. Gingerly, the adventurer unrolled it and read a letter etched shakily in smudged ink.

"When the sands slept and the stones fell, when our comrades’ bravery became our enemies’ subterfuge and deception, you welcomed us to take refuge by your hearth. By your shield, by your knightly warmth, we staved off the chill of a bleak dusk, and the frostbite of a bleaker winter. You stuck your neck out for us time after time. You treated us like kin when our peoples estrangement seemed steadfast. Amid the falling snows, we couldn’t have felt more at home.

Broken blades mended, vigor renewed, we pressed onward. We knew not where we were headed, but with you at our side, with all your family’s aid, we could keep our heads high. Every step of the way toward vengeance, toward bringing back our scattered rays of the dawn, you were there. You were always a welcome hand, sword, shield, smile—especially when we didn’t expect you. You fulfilled every last duty of your knight’s calling. Your shield rests as proof. That I could bear witness to your deeds would make any bard envious.

You roused my spirit when I felt our work was hopeless. You held me together like armor forged by Byregot himself. You instilled Halone’s fury in me with every call to arms. You brimmed with joy in my presence, and my heart overflowed with light. Ever-present butterflies fluttered in my chest.

You said that a smile better suits a hero, so I smiled for you. One last smile to keep you warm as you wait for me at Halone’s side.

Every smile since has felt hollow. I should’ve died that day. Perhaps I did.

I’m sorry I cannot invite you home. I’m sorry you went cold right in my arms. I’m sorry that no matter how hard I try, I cannot let go of the past and bask in the light of a brighter future. I’m sorry that with every fight, every meager taste of revenge, I am left ravenous for more. I’m sorry that I throw myself into danger with reckless abandon. I just don’t know what else to do.

I know it must sadden you to see me in such a state. I’m so sorry, my darling.

-from your tired warrior, who fights every day in the hopes that her love will never become a forgotten knight"

(If chosen: Scarf of Wondrous Wit)

[Destati]

Countless memories I have of my life in Eorzea I would put pen to paper on; nearly three summers’ worth, in fact. However, I feel moved to recount my tale of a foray into Dzemael Darkhold and how I inadvertently caused what should have been an otherwise mundane run to go horribly wrong by my own hand. A curious memory to choose above all else to be sure, but for one reason or another few stories bring a retrospective smile to my face like this one.
I was a fledgling adventurer then. We had entered Dragonbreath Falls in the Darkhold, the place you cannot spell without D-A-N-G-E-R on its sheer cliffs. I had known that the Bone Nixes – almost as if they had been strategically placed there on the cliffside – had a tendency to knock adventurers off with their Labored Leaps. I had no intention of being such an adventurer, until I discovered too late that my toe was caught in the line of attack. To make the situation even more damningly awkward, my back was not facing the wall.
I tumbled down the cliff and hit the bottom faster than I could shout out any sort of profanity. Above me, my party did not seem to notice my fall and were moving on ahead. As one of the two damage dealers in the group, I was absolutely unexpendable. I had to get back to them quickly.
I was only vaguely aware of the beasts along my path, and in my haste I neglected to remember that dungeon monsters worked differently from those in the overworld in that your very existence is so offensive to them that once they’ve begun to chase you, you could run to the ends of Hydaelyn and they will not relent until one of you is dead.
As I ducked into the cavern with my team members at long last in sight, I finally looked over my shoulder and realized that every last beast – along with their mothers – had followed me up. I turned back and attacked the other monsters my party was already fighting with a peculiar calm, as though ignoring the grisly fate quickly approaching us would make it all go away.
It did not.
I recall the last haunting words of our healer, wrought with so much terror that any and all punctuation was bereft in their tone…
”what the”
”where did all the enemies come from”
We were slaughtered as sheep before the wolf… Blessed with the Echo as we were however, death was but a fly to be brushed from our shoulders. The story is not without its happy ending of course, we cleared Dzemael of its ghastly denizens without further tragedy. My embarrassment over the incident long since passed, I look back on it and laugh knowing how far I’ve come since then. Though I likely will never see those people again, I can’t help but wonder if they remember and look back on it with a similar fondness?
(If my tale is worthy of a commendation, I would like the Ahriman Choker, which in its resemblance to the All-seeing eye makes a fitting commemoration of my (mis)adventure through the Darkhold.)

[JinLionheart]

Gods it seems like a lifetime ago.

Do you remember it? When we were a simple man looking for adventure in a scarred realm recovering from a disaster.

We stood naively in front of the gates of Nald'Thal, hoping to make a fortune out of sands with our fists. Then we found our way to a dark place beneath a kingdom of pirates, replacing our fists with daggers. When we returned to the Gates of Nald'Thal we found a sword from the far east, with this blade we carved our name in the annals of history, as a savior of the realm.

It was not to be.

Betrayal is the hardest pill to swallow, I'd bet you know that better than anyone, especially when you're betrayed by the people you're sworn to protect. It was upon this betrayal that we tossed aside the blade from the far east and took up a great sword to punish those in power, just like the one who betrayed us.

I enjoyed that you know, fighting alongside you against man and beast, carving our way through that Hell with sword and spell. We felt unstoppable, as one.

Even now, as you carry a new sword, one supplemented by a firearm, I stand behind you. My fondest memory? Well it would be standing alongside you, against our despair, fighting our way through our Blackest Night.

Serve, save, slave, slay, I've sins aplenty aye, but regrets?

I have none.

(Noble Barding)

[PrinceNaoto]

Dearest Friend,

There was so much I wish I could thank you for, for the words of comfort, the hand on my back guiding me forward. You were a light in the dark, shining brightly. Your voice soothed my worries, calmed my anxious heart.

You were always there, sitting next to me in Shirogane, talking and trying to keep my mind from whatever had plagued it. A gentle hand on my shoulder, your hand in mine when I was lonely and needed someone near me.

You were always there on my adventures, always at my side, your sword as ready as my rapier. Together we could do anything, I could do anything so long as you were with me.

How there’s so much more I wish I could tell you, how much I had come to care for you. How the beat of my heart quickened when I was near you. My dearest friend, how would my life have been different had we not met that fateful day?

Oh how you’ve become the most important person in my life. Would not for you, where would I even be now? Where would I be without your calming aura and your calming words? Your soul always easing my pain away.

My dearest, most cherished friend, do you know how much I love you? I hope one day my words can reach you, but until then, the words on this paper will have to do.

Best Wishes,
Your dearest Red Mage


(If chosen, I would like the Noble Barding)

[Ryuko]

Morale is tricky, I mused, putting pen to paper. When leading others into battle, you need to find a balance between unwavering support and a relentless push to be better, to do better, in the heat of battle.

I paused, glancing at the quiet waters beyond the Lavender Beds. I could never take our home for granted, something we worked so hard to rebuild. Yet here I sat, on the bench where I was privileged to reflect on some of our greatest and most unbelievable adventures.

There are countless examples I could share, but one in particular comes to mind. Deep beneath Eorzean soil, some time after Bahamut ravaged the land, my friends and I were tasked with confronting the beast — which, thanks to the remnants of Allagan technology, was swiftly being reconstructed.

I knew this story was something I had been asked not to share, but with everything that has happened… I did not want our tale lost to the ages.

After defeating his gatekeepers, we finally found the Dreadwyrm's burning heart. Here, time seemed to stand still, while the power of the Echo allowed us to keep returning to the moment before engagement. Her blessing enabled us to retain all we had learned in our previous encounters, which proved to be an invaluable boon.

But… after several weeks of trial and error, we were all exhausted. And that’s when the regression set in.

"No; don’t do that," I shouted to the white mage in the back lines. Sure enough, he ran into one of Bahamut’s conjured aetherial energy orbs and immediately lost consciousness, leading to our inevitable fall. This was my breaking point.

"Don't be a hero," I growled through gritted teeth. "We need to share the responsibility; you are of no use to us dead!"

He looked down as he formulated his response. "I'm sorry, I—"

"No! No more apologies. No more excuses." I took a deep breath and sighed, looking over the rest of our team as we prepared for our next encounter. We were all frustrated — at ourselves, and at each other. I knew my next words would be important.

"We've been here for months. We’ve seen everything he has to offer. We all know what to do. All it takes is one perfect attempt. One perfect run of it. And we save Eorzea." Tired eyes met mine with hesitant determination. “Now let’s go.”

With that, the paladin rushed forward, and our trial began anew. What followed left me in awe. Even before I could announce what was coming next, our team sprung to action with exacting precision. When Bahamut finally fell, there was a moment of stunned silence, followed by cheers and relief.

The moral of this story, and any heroic tale, is that nothing of worth is ever accomplished alone. Beyond skill, strength and experience is an even more important trait: a belief in yourself, and a belief in your teammates. If you can inspire this, you can save the world.

I tossed my message-in-a-bottle to the water, hoping it would reach willing eyes.

(Prize choice: scarf.)

[RaikaShiraishi]

To many adventurers, a single moment may stand above the rest. Be it the shattering click that broke through our frozen movements as the Lady of Ice unleashed her anger upon us, or the twisted grandeur that we bore witness to traversing the treachery of an ever-dying city, there is always one moment captures our being. A shard of time that we keep within ourselves, evermore.

Sometimes it can be as a moment in passing - a few words from a guiding merchant, or the comforting tomfoolery between comrades. It can be the feeling of chasing a golden sunset, cresting over into new lands unbeknownst to ourselves.

It may be happy - a moment of laughter, of joy. It may be sad - the melancholy of a comrade long lost, or the burning pain of a friend felled too soon. Perhaps, for some, it is a moment of satisfaction - the feeling of victory, the closing chapter of another tale.

For me, it is a moment where I lifted myself off of the ground and stood and felt gratitude, for it was a time where I feared would not have been able to stand again. The adventure that was given to me, all of the moments that I saw with my eyes and felt in my heart - it lifted me onto my feet one more time.

So I thank you for the moments - the moments that have truly defined our journeys as an adventure. Moments that we have all been proud to be a part of.

Ever searching,

A grateful Adventurer

(blue bird earrings)

[AhrihDevrane]

“What is your favorite thing about being an adventurer?” The small Miqo’te child looked up at me like she was about to burst with excitement upon meeting the Warrior of Light.

I didn’t expect to be recognized by anyone while having lunch, but after spotting the wooden sword on the young girl’s hip it seemed one of the staff let it slip to her. From across the dining area I could see her mother watching nervously as if I might crush the girl's dreams. I smiled at the mother and said to the girl, “My favorite thing? It would be making new friends along the way.”

She smiled brighter and asked for more, “Like who?"

I hadn’t expected it but I said the first thing to come to mind, “I met my best friend once I started adventuring.”

“What is her name? What is she like? How did you meet her?” The little girl asked, the questions pouring out.

“What is your name?” I asked in return.

“Sihn.” She said quickly.

I chuckled and gestured to the chair next to me, “Well, Sihn, sit down and I will tell you.” She happily jumped on the seat and kept her eyes glued to me.

“Her name is Alorah and she is one of the kindest, bravest, souls I have ever known. She would do anything if it helped her friends.” I told her and continued, “Unfortunately, our meeting is not so interesting, but it is something I remember as clear as day.”

“I was already a skilled Bard and was in the city of Revenant’s Toll. A place of adventurers who are looking to make a name for themselves.” I told her.

“What were you doing there?” She asked.

I chuckled and said, “I was looking for gear because while I was skilled with a bow, my armor was lacking. Alorah approached me while I searched and upon first meeting, I felt as if I was with an old friend. She had seen I needed new armor and without a word gave me a new set of armor. I had just met her and she was worried for me like a sister. It was a sign that we were meant to meet.”

"Do you see each other often?" Sihn asked. I nodded and said, “Of course. Sometimes it has been hard, but we know through everything we love each other.”

Sihn smiled brightly and opened her mouth to speak, but across the way her mother was waving at her. The little girl nodded and quickly thanked me then said goodbye before running to her mother.

I smiled and reached into my pocket pulling out a small drawing of Alorah and I as I personally recalled our first meeting and everything we had gone through since then. She and I were bound together no matter what.

The waitress came up and spoke softly to me, "Are you ready to order, Ma'am?" I blinked and found myself back in reality where I smiled at the woman, “Not yet, I apologize. I am waiting for a friend.” The woman smiled and nodded, “I will come back then.”

“Thank you.” I said and she walked off. I looked down at the picture once more then folded it again. She would be here soon and I didn't want her to catch me being sappy.

[Vallaut]

The moment has already begun to fade from my memories, yet the impact it made shaped my love for this story. Back when I was still such a naive sprout, exploring the world with my partner, we progressed through the colorful story with such wonderment in our eyes. Even through the first quests we felt so much passion within the writing that had us eager-- no, craving for more. This held true until one of the many times we returned to our Scion friends back at the Waking Sands and… it was quiet. Where was everyone?

It still gives me chills just writing it out as the memory is almost like a loving scar burned into me. The halls were darker than normal as even the air felt off; the sounds, the music-- it all felt so ominous. This place we had been calling home for our characters, through so many quests, was tainted. I felt chills as I spotted the first of the bodies and blood now scattered about. Our dear friends and those we fought alongside… those we were sworn to protect.

I remember being so excited to see one of the lesser non-player characters every time I returned. He was just a simple miqo’te male who resembled my partner’s character. Whenever… whenever I could not find him it was the chill that started the burn in my eyes. I could not hold back the tears much like I cannot now just to the memory of realizing they had really killed our friends.

Yes, I felt that much for a few minor non-player characters that had no impact on the story, however, it is the little details like that which hit me the hardest. I also recall a pair of twins who were among the dead and whenever I saw their matching hair colors as they laid there it was almost too much. I had to push on though, even through clouded eyes while I tried to tell myself it was just a video game and to stop crying.

It was difficult to collect myself through the rest of the scene, the mix of emotions that boiled up within me as I saw who did this to them and more. I felt true sadness and fury, disregarding my earlier scolding of getting so emotional over a game. Even as the memory of that day continues to become fuzzy, I will always feel how it changed everything. This game... its story is so precious to me especially now and this moment truly helped shape that.

( Choice: Gaelicap )

[Repulse97]

With Earthen Fury
Titan, a Primal of olde
In half, the Earth splits

This haiku embodies the very nature of that calamitous beast.

His Earthen Fury is unmatched by any other.

His Voice of the Land will blow away the strongest of heroes.

His Tumult shall break any party.

His Stonecrusher will render tanks defenseless.

And his landslides...oh, the landslides...

Responsible for the darkest of my nightmares and yet in those nightmares do I find bliss. Defeat after defeat. It leaves me only yearning for more! Crack, collapse, crumble the ground beneath me that I might fall into the abyss. I will keep returning, for one day I shall reign victorious over you. And when I finally best you, I shall summon you again and again to reciprocate all that which you made me feel.

I hate you...
I love you...
Titan

(If I get selected: Gaelicap :3c)