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

[Jonah-san-]

Every adventure begins with a desire for the extraordinary. But never was there an adventure worth having that didn’t come with its share of pain. Pain withstood… and pain inflicted. Only after several years spent fighting desperate battles across every yalm of Eorzea and beyond alongside my comrades in the Scions of the Seventh Dawn did I finally learn that precious lesson.

Some time after the liberation of Ala Mhigo, a stroke of whimsy guided my steps back to Ishgard. The bracing cold chased away warmer memories in my mind, bringing to surface thoughts that had been buried for many moons. Some pleasant, others… less so. In the midst of this reflection, I reunited with a familiar face — the Dark Knight known as Sidurgu of the Obsidian Heart. I was gladdened to see him, as well as his companion Rielle. That was also the day I met Myste. My first interactions with the boy also felt like a reunion of sorts, as his features bore such striking similarities to friends from journeys past. I first doubted my sanity for feeling as such, but the events to follow confirmed that the connection Myste bore to me and my fallen comrades ran truly deep indeed.

The four of us partied up, following Myste’s lead on a naive quest to end the suffering of all those we happened upon along the way. Easing the regret of those who have died, and of those who are left behind… could such a thing have ever been possible? A day came when I encountered Myste for the final time. By his strange power, I confronted numerous simulacra — realistic depictions of foes whose blood had stained my own blade… my own hands, and even my very soul.

Even now, not a moon goes by that I don’t relive the events of that day in my dreams. I am grateful for it, as I could not forgive myself if the lessons I learned then were to fade into the obscurity of time. I realized, for the first time, that there is weight to every life one takes. Whether performed under the presence of justice or no, punishment must be meted out to the man who presumes to decide the fate of another. To bear the lingering regret of the lives piled high upon my conscience until the distant day that I can face them in reconciliation — that is my own punishment, one I carry out proudly.

Forget not, though, that suffering is just one side of the coin. On the reverse is joy, and therein lies the true reason that I remember Myste so fondly. When my mind’s eye looks upon the silhouettes of departed heroes from yesteryear, I also see the heroes who continue to stand beside me now and forevermore. I remember the day I procured a linkshell, and engraved upon it the name “Bottled Glory”. I remember the moment I met each fellow adventurer that graciously accepted one of those linkpearls from me. Countless faces that brightened all my days and gave every journey a purpose. They are every bit the Warrior of Light that I am, if not more so. May they ever walk in the light of the Crystal.

(Request: Scarf of Wondrous Wit)

[KonaKona1121]

A couple of years ago I had decided to retry and finish ARR, around this time I had a shadow of darkness overlooking me everyday. Everyday felt like a chore to waking up, brushing my teeth, etc. I was alone, and cowering in my room hiding away from reality. I was dealing with all these emotions the best anyone can. Then one day my friend messaged me "Hey! I didn't know you played! I can help you grind out stuff!" and just like that this cloud of darkness slowly began fading away. He told me stuff i didn't know the crafting classes, the best way to level up, doing my dailies. and of course about my relic weapons, then 1 day on my way to Ifrit, my friend messaged me "Hey man I'm in this FC and id super happy to have you here so you can do end game stuff with us!' I was nervous at first, awkward, shy, weary of meeting new people. But joining that FC was the first time I've ever felt the sense of a small little family. they helped me with some crafting some gear and even some gill to get me by. The time i spent with them made me feel whole again made me feel alive. as the story goes though all good things must come to an end. I broke my PC and didn't have any way to play FFXIV anymore. but even so I trampled on and hoping one day I can play again.
Regardless of where you all are or what FC you're in If you're reading this Knights of The Round.
Thank you all for being my personal warriors of light in the darkest moments of my life.

[scurryfox]

The first crash could be felt for miles. A shockwave of pure energy, wiping over the landscape of the forested Shroud, sending an eerie rustle through the trees. The second and third equally powerful, sending 10-foot-tall waves over the decks of Limsa Lominsa, and kicking up sandstorms in Ul'Dah. They were near instant, alarums and shouted warnings through the three cities echoing to the outer settlements and housing districts with high speed. It was during this time that a particular residence- the Dreamers free company- stopped all motion. Five children, all girls, looked to the sky, where the Lesser Moon, Dalamud, didn't seem as far off as it did just a few minutes ago...

"Girls!" A thin, lithe Miqo'te female shouted, her voice sharp and urgent. "Get inside!" They were obedient, for a welcome change, and filed inside quickly, not bothering to grab the toys they had been playing with.

"Litani." A crackling female voice issued from a linkpearl tucked into the feline's ear, tinged with the barest hint of breathlessness, as if she couldn't believe her eyes. "Something's going down. It's hell on Hydaelyn out here... Make sure the kids are safe."

"Aye. Already done."

"Good. Keep them inside until we get home." The female voice changed to a different channel on the linkpearl, to the open channel for the clan. "Fey, Sully. I... Chi and I are in Ul'Dah right now. There's voidsent everywhere, and Dalamud is on its way down. Reports are saying it's the same in all the city states... Chunks of Dalamud are crashing, some settlements are being leveled... Be fuckin' careful, you hear me? I'm not coming home to hear any of you didn't make it back. Am I clear?" Without waiting for an answer, her voice softened to a tone she didn't take too often. "I love you. Do what you have to. Make it home."

(I would like the Bluebird Earrings if selected.)

[rjwz]

When I'm not slaying gods or obsessing over glamour, even the Warrior of Light has his pastimes. For today, gathering is on the calendar. Or it would be, if I weren’t so stubborn.

It wasn't the botanist’s axe that troubled me so, but rather that of the warrior’s, pleading to be unsheathed — to exact revenge upon the beast that had slain its owner.

At the levemete’s request, I made my rounds just south of Summerford. Strangely, as I began to dig up the La Noscean soil, it was almost as if I could sense some kind of powerful presence.

Warily, I scouted a dark figure in the distance; a creature, both burly yet lanky. As I drew in, it revealed itself to be a massive, mountainous… goobbue.

This goobbue, towering before me in all of his flowery, mossy greatness, was nothing to sneeze at. By tradition, I spare no monster and certainly no goobbue in my way, but for the moment, logic prevailed as I sneakily tiptoed around him.

Though, as the other tradition goes, my logic never fails to disappoint. He quickly turned around and heartily slapped me in the face.

A single hit had knocked me out, and I returned to the aether, soon awakening in Limsa Lominsa. So began the cyclic tragedy, for my ego would never allow the tale to end so abruptly. And besides, Mr. Zango wouldn’t let me off so easily.

Upon my first return, I came in gear that was befitting of my new goal: to best this vile, putrid fiend, here and now. In other words, it was a long day. The traces of moldy phlegm that linger in my attire, even now, are a testament to either my bravery or my stupidity.

A dozen attempts had passed before long, all comprised of throwing myself against a literal stone wall. But by Thal’s balls was I going to see this goobbue pushing up daisies — not from his head, but from the ground.

Countless tries later, a fellow adventurer drew near, likely to witness another personal Calamity. But swiftly, she activated her linkpearl and uttered:

“S Rank ▶Middle La Noscea ( 24.2 , 20.1 )”

Were those words a declaration of war? A magical spell from the arcanist's guild? Clearly, it must’ve been the latter, for it summoned what seemed like the entire continent before I could process an answer. A colossal crowd lied patiently in wait, thirsting for goobbue blood, until one began to dash forward and draw his attention. Like a stampede did the rest follow, weapons raised, delivering unto him a pain even greater than my own. Within mere seconds, he fell, and in another few did people say their thanks and disperse.

At the time, I hadn’t a clue what kind of spontaneous murder meeting I bore witness to. All I knew was that I was in sheer awe from such a beautiful display of teamwork; and though it put a dent in my pride, watching the systematic destruction of my foe was cathartic enough to repair it.

Rest in peace, Croque-Mitaine, until we meet again… down here, in Eorzea.


(Gaelicap)

[callykarishokka]

“Hey, red mage, you’re gonna need to help the healer out for this.”

Excuse me?! was the initial thought. I stared at the tank, a burly shirtless Hrothgar with a gunblade toted over one shoulder. The second damage-dealer, a ninja or a dancer or something – it didn’t really matter, as long as they did their job right – stood there and said nothing. The healer was mum, too.
This was not my job. This was absolutely not the job of a red mage. I had a single healing spell and a single revive spell, and that was it. That was the extent of my ability to ‘help the healer heal’.

There wasn’t time to argue, though. The Hrothgar didn’t wait for a response. He hurled himself right up to the giant angry dragon perched in the middle of the snowy hellscape of a field.

For roughly five minutes, everything went fine. Mostly. As fine as these things tended to go, anyway. The living snowglobe that was The Burn was a mass of indecipherable white around us, but everything else moved clear as crystal, if only because everyone else was stark and dark against it. I sent a few heals here and there – stupid healer, do your job – but it was nothing intolerable. For a moment, I thought that everything would be fine and the healer would pull themselves up.

Then, I noticed the tank – stupid white Hrothgar – wasn’t looking so hot. He wheezed and heaved between movements, visibly aching.

After that, I noticed that the healer was down. How in the heck?! Is it really so hard to stay out direct line of fire?!

I think I let out a hysterical laugh, thin lalafellian voice ripping the sky. “Scrap to you all, I’m the healer now!”

I got the healer back up. I then promptly gave them a solid heal of my own. Then I healed the tank, just to make sure that everything was on the up-and-up. I couldn’t keep this up for long; I wasn’t made for this sort of extended drain.

The other damage-dealer then decided that it was a good time to fall. Nice of them, really. The healer had that one handled, though, finally, but then the tank fell and that was on me to fix.

It was a dance of staying just out of the path of danger while also making sure three toddlers didn’t die. It was as if they were doing their utmost best to get as many wounds as possible, healer included.

In the end, we pulled it off. The dragon wailed and fell, death throes echoing in to the midday sky. But only because I got it done.

The other three stumbled off and away without so much as a nod of thanks. No gratitude; no commendations.

But the swell of pride makes it the most cherished of memories.



(Gaelicap, please)

[Sebbie]

A memoir? An account of my fondest memory? As if I could choose one out of the many. After six years, there are too many to choose from. But I suppose I could start with one of my earliest...

Taking those first fledgling steps into the lands of Eorzea, seeing this vibrant world for the very first time, choosing a homeland from the verdant, vibrant emerald gem of the Shroud. Setting foot into Gridania as naught but a fledgling adventurer and feeling that sense of wonder, taking those first steps into a fresh new world of fantasy, adventure and magic.

And as that first day became the first week, and the first week became the first month, and the first month became the first year...I realized that at long last, I had finally found what I had sought in the years prior: A place I truly belonged. I have so many fond memories of Eorzea- of my adventures within, the friends gained (and those lost; dear Haurchefant, I try to smile every day, my friend), the enemies overcome, the hurdles mounted and the challenges surpassed.

It has been six long years, and while not all the memories may be good, there are far more good than bad. I felt myself stepping into the shoes of my Warrior of Light, becoming them and allowing myself to be transported into their world. The laughter that they shared, they shared with me. Their joys and sorrows, their anger and dispair, their triumphs and defeats- all of these, my Warrior and I came to bear together.

We faced the might of the Garlean Empire together. Brought low an Ascian. Ended a thousand-year war. Liberated war-ravaged lands. Felled a mighty beast of fire and a mistress of ice. Passed a test of judgement. Defied fate and made our own path. We fell into the pits of deepest despair, and clawed our way out tooth and nail and denied the attempts to stop us and bring us low.

Together, we have surmounted the insurmountable. Made possible the impossible. The unbelievable become believable. My friend, since those first uncertain steps into this fantastic new world, we have never wavered, never faltered. And through each of those six years, we have held fast to the original sense of wonder we felt when we first set foot into this realm.

You ask me to recount my most cherished, my fondest memory? Well. That memory is you, Warrior. We have laughed, cried, shed blood, felt every sort of pain and heartache, joy and happiness and experienced them as one. You are the Warrior of Light. And I? I am, as I always have been and shall always be, your guiding hand...

(Scarf of Wondrous Wit. Thank you for reading.)

[Epona]

It was nights such as these, calm and stagnant, where I would find myself lost amidst the skies, like diamonds, pockets of light upon an endless ocean. War torn, and weary, I looked upon my scarred hands until I felt my eyes sting and I thought--surely this was what I had been searching for all this time?

The years had left me bedraggled and tired. Waking before the sun to stare upon mine own reflection and gaze at the shadow housed within. From a vantage point high above the distant snowcaps of Coerthas, names and faces flew through my mind like glimmering motes of light, like the stars themselves, fading with the coming of the sun.

Beside me, I hear commotion. My beloved emerges from their tent, scrubbing sleep from their eyes and wearing an expression that begets their familiarity with my morning habits.

“The sunrise is beautiful.” They say,

I am only a man. Weak in constitution, gorged on power beyond what I could comprehend. Destiny was a far reaching current which had pulled me upon all directions for so many years, but it was the gratitude that kept me going. The knowledge that those I had never met, and never would meet, were somehow saved by my actions. Insurmountable responsibility.

There were many things I kept close to my heart. Faces that lingered. Voices I could swear I heard when the evenings got too dark and quiet to bear. Many, I know not where they are. But one I do.

We reach the cliff overlooking Coerthas by mid-morning, and pause to gaze upon the spires of Ishgard as they challenge the heavens with precision. The age of Dragonsong had long since ended, but it was only now the people were beginning to heal. I could see signs of construction bringing broken stone and glass to life once more, and my heart leaps.

At the apex of a jutting cliff sat the snow laden stone which kept my breaths at a reverent murmur.

His shield, worn with rust sat as it always had.

I smile. Take my seat beside the stone. My beloved comes to rest beside me, and we break bread beneath a cloudless sky.


[I choose the scarf of wonderous wit if chosen. Thank you for reading!]

[Tannlore]

From the journal of Tannlore Belegeria:

Smoke, ash, blood… these scents linger still in my nose all these years when my mind wanders back to that day. The heavy, oppressive aether of the elder primal clung to every fiber of my being, down to my soul. My eyes, filled with the rancor and seething hatred given form in the shape of an impending terra flare, could scarlessly believe what they were seeing. I and my companions had lost all hope, was it all for naught? But then it all vanished, in a blinding flash of light and aether unlike that of Bahamut; this aether was filled with hope. I was moving, being sent somewhere, but where? One by one my companions vanished before my eyes, until it was my turn. I turned my gaze behind me in time to see the world vanish, instead replaced by stillness, beauty, calm and peace.



I was in the twelveswood once more. But, how did I get here? Where exactly was I? I had explored these woods to the very dark depths and never had I seen a place like this. It was like waking from a nightmare, and I was happy for it. Somehow, I knew I was sent forward in time, beyond the reach of that calamity. My heart soared for joy that Eorzea had somehow survived that looming doom of flame and destruction, though mine eyes could see the scars in the land left in its wake. But was I alone? I could think of one friend to call.

I let out a whistle, a clarion call to my companion, my chocobo, “Hurricane”. We had been through much over the years. Was he still alive? Was he still looking for me? As silence greeted mine ears, my heart began to sink. Was I so naive to believe that he would survive such an event? But, then a reply, a clear “Wark” from the woods. I know that call, I’ve known it since he and I took to our journey together. Had he been waiting for me all this time?

With a sudden burst of movement, a yellow blur lept towards me. However, I did not panic. I knew this blur, I knew this bird, and before he could scarcely come to a halt, mine arms were wrapped around him. After seeing such anguish and devastation, to find happiness in this simple moment, to be reunited with my old friend, was beyond my ability to put into words until many years later in these pages. The years had been good to him. Someone had donned him in armor I did not recognize and marked him with a strange glyph upon his beak; one I would later discover upon mine own back as well.

My friend still journeys with me. Though I have been gifted many a steed of various kinds, from mechanical to magical, my companion still fights at my side. Together we journey on, as we always have, as we always will making memories to last a lifetime and beyond. Should you come across these pages, think of my companion. Spend a moment to remember and consider his contributions to mine battles. Battles, that saved the lives of countless people here and on another star. Remember the joy this simple chocobo brought to the heart of the Warrior of Light.



[Thanks for the read! My choice is the Gaelicap!]

[Cerat]

“There are many things you learn after spending years adventuring” I looked on at the faces of the children surrounding the campfire in front of me. Khloe Aliapoh, a young Miqo’te that is fascinated with the stories I have from my adventures, had asked Zhloe if she could get me to hold a story night for all the children at the Menphina’s Arms Orphanage. Having caught a break on my journeys I heartily agreed. “The first and most important lesson is to always believe in your companions.”

“The children here around the fire? They’re your family, are they not?” I smiled. “You laugh with them, you cry with them, you play games together and you eat together. When you become an adventurer, you do the same with those you meet in the wilds and in the Adventurer’s Guilds. While we often face GIANT monsters and even the gods of beast tribes together, there’s nothing more relaxing than spending time with your comrades, your family, like we’re doing right now.” My owlet, Hoot, let out a pleased hoo as she nudged up against me. She always seemed to understand the meaning of my words and that they included her as well.

“When I first met one of my dearest of friends, I was but a fledgling conjuror wandering through the city-state of Gridania. I had traveled alone until that point, learning both the bow and the conjuring arts.” I recalled. “She was trying to recruit adventurers to her Free Company, and while normally I ignored most such criers, something compelled me to listen.”

“What’s a free company like?” The pink haired Miqo’te girl name T’kebbe questioned.

“Well…” I pondered for a moment and looked at the children. “Why… it’s much akin to the orphanage here. While you younglings may not have chosen to be here, you’ve put together a bunch of scrappy young people and made a family. I didn’t know what it was like either when I first approached her about her Free Company either, but that was the start of some of the best times in all my life.”

I took time to share with them some of the countless stories of my times with my friends within the Free Company and without, of the fun times, the dangers we faced together, and the different places we traveled. Though it wasn’t as exciting as telling Khloe about all the battles I had fought in the journals she keeps supplying me with, the kids seemed interested all the same. I punctuated important parts with wild gesturing, and some fireworks I had saved up from the Moonfire Faire.

“The best part of the adventure…” I concluded my stories. “…is that while you may part ways with friends for a time, like me and those that I met in my first Free Company, you’re always connected through the bonds that made you family in the first place. So, make stories now, even just here in Idyllshire, and with those stories make memories and bonds that will last a lifetime. That is the true spirit of being an adventurer and why I still enjoy every moment of it.”

(Scarf of Wonderous Wit, thanks for reading!)

[RelmelaPicto]

The Prissy Pictomancer


Hardly two summers have passed since I made sojourn from the motherland to the world wider. Day in and day out I find myself surprised at how Eorzeans carry themselves and just how alike we are in spite of the many shapes and sizes we come in.

I was such a naive girl when I set out from Thamasa. I remember me granddad was so upset that I would leave ere long. he worried endlessly, being a scholar who specializes in the new world, that may have colored his perception on the rest of the world, including places that he right well knew were just as civilized as any Sharlayan hamlet. If the Levilleur family sees Eorzea worth cultivating, why can't we?!?

I digress, though. It's been so long since I've gone back home. Well, I say 'home', but... well, I'm a property owner here. I'm up to my bandanna in friends, and I've seen so many wondrous things. I've seen how ugly and petty people can be, and I've seen radiant examples of unyielding courage. adventuring around the world has given me perspective and broadened my horizons, it has stoked fires under my muse, and it has moved me physically, atherically, and emotionally.

To whomever finds this bottle: Don't be afraid to be the one who sticks their hand in the fire, climbs that building, sees the world. Sure, people may call you rude and reckless, but I say to you, find that vista, see the sun peak over those mountains at just the right angle! Come up with a clever way to get up on that unassuming lamp post in the middle of a town square or walk those support beams. Go fourth and meet people, see places! Weather friend or foe, THAT is the spirit of adventure, and I hope that I capture even a bit of that in my portraits.