Memoirs of Adventure Creative Writing Contest (NA) - Discussion/Practice Thread

Dearest Wanderer,

I have a face and a name, but those things do not matter. What matters is the story I have to share.

On a day no more special or peculiar than others, I felt alone. I have felt alone so many times in my life.

In a sea full of people, I blended, becoming one of the nameless faces that create the Eorzean people.

But I wanted someone to notice me. I wanted someone to recognize the being that I was. Not faceless, not nameless, not a passerby of insignificance. I wanted someone to care. So I shouted out into the sea of strangers, which felt more like a void, daring it to shout back.

To my surprise, it did.

Someone responded to my statement, which slips my memory now (it must have been something about how lonely I felt).

This person talked to me, reassured me of a better tomorrow that would surely follow this bad day (statistically, it had to happen at some point).

This person and I became friends, a name I could come back to when yearning for someone to know, in moments when I am surrounded by strangers.

However, it wasn’t enough. I felt unfulfilled. I longed for support, comfort, and friendship. I need a family.

A few weeks later, I asked the strangers in the Limsa Lominsan Aetheryte plaza for Free Company recommendations. I hoped I could find what I was looking for.

There were a few responses. It warmed my heart to know there were welcoming people still out there, but there was one response that I knew was right to respond back to.

The friend from before reached out to me, letting me know she ran a Free Company, small but mighty, willing to accept me. I jumped on the opportunity as quickly as I could.

My application was accepted and suddenly, I was thrust into a new world. A world where people greeted me by name each time I woke to start my next adventure, where conversations were hearty and inclusive, where help was abundant and unconditional, requiring nothing but the kindness returned. Most of all, it was a world where I belonged.

Dearest wanderer, if there is one thing I must convey to you, let it be this:

Our stories are our own, but they are also everyone else’s in some way, too. We see ourselves reflected in each other and by my own definition, that is what it means to be alive: to connect with other people.

There are people who feel exactly as you do. There are people who understand. There are people who care. You just have to find them.

Sincerely,
Another Wanderer
(who, if chosen as a winner, would love the Noble Barding)

It was the grand opening of my bar and the wedding reception of two friends of mine, a ribbon-cutting tie-the-knot bonanza, and things were wildly out of hand. Barely half a bell in, three roast dodos were demolished and someone had faceplanted in the shortcake. A silver-haired Miqo'te had gotten cuffed to the bar to prevent him free access to the kegs, but it was too late to confiscate the one he was already draining. Perfect strangers were macking in the corner by the fireplace at a volume to match the orchestrion. The groom was sprawled across the couch with one drink in him and his new wife was balancing a glass of Lominsan Red on his forehead. Glancing out a window as I brought another round of Shroud perry to a cluster of Triple Triad players, I saw my barmaid heave a Hyur bodily into the pond.

So the party was going well.

A pair of Lalafell gamboled underfoot as I made my way back to the bar past an Au'ra whose chin was dribbling with the juices of the damson in her partner's hand. Our mountain of a guildmaster was smiling genially at the room at large as he nodded off against one wall. A gangly Elezen flashed me a handsign and a wink; returning the latter, I reached beneath the bar and filled a tumbler with Garlean Oil--I know, I know, questionable legality and all that, but at least it was better than the group huffing ceruleum fumes outside by the campfire, which I certainly did not see at the time, thank you officer, and I can't remember their faces neither.

A Hyuran woman with a splash of Merry Mogharita on her muslin was scratching sigils on my countertop in an attempt to summon sobriety, hunched under the weight of the Roegadyn snoring on her shoulder. One overproud acquaintance was loudly proclaiming his victories in the arenas; I awarded him with a pint of porter spiked with a hefty aperient--he was clearly full of shite. The cuffed Miqo'te with a hollow leg and, now, a hollow keg was casting about for something new; the chef lit up and slid a tub of untouched mandragora stew toward him. In the guests' defense, even I thought it looked sketchy.

Above the wine rack sat my bouncer, Finneas, keeping a watchful eye on the chaos. His yellow-and-black warpaint was enough to give anyone who spotted him a moment of pause. Of course, this was in part due to his being a fish mouthing silently through the glass of his tank, but the idea of this fish being employed as a bouncer in the finest bar in the realms implied that he was godsdamned good at his job.

My staff and I shared a glance and inserted our earplugs as the opening lines of Eorzea's most famous song came over the orchestrion. In moments, the floorspace filled to within an ilm of capacity as the cadre of drunkards began howling the lines of "Answers" with the harmony of a sack of gaelicats.

This was around the time the cuffed Miqo'te escaped his bonds and began stripping on the counter. But that's a story for another time.

-Tethys Alke, "Memoirs of a Cat with No Lives"

Earring, please!

To whom this would reach,

I don’t know who would find this, perhaps I am talking to no one and this message will forever float below the waves. Even so, this is less for the idea of someone reading this message and more for the ability to put to paper my own experiences to help me better forge my decisions for the future, and if this should find someone, then it could also serve as a form of guidance from someone who has seen their fair share in their travels across this world and beyond. I never felt more alone then when my story began, I had heard of the expansive and beautiful places beyond my secluded view and wondered if I could become a part of that world. Ever since then I have done so much, traveled from end to end of this world and seen near every type of person or creature you could ever imagine, and yet there is still so much more left to see and know. However, with great joy and wonder, sadness and regret linger not far behind. Those moments tend to stick out more to those who are privy to self-reflection, and can leave scars that none may ever truly see. I have pondered on many of these moments, and have come to realize, after a time, that loss of any kind cannot be left to fester in your mind calling you to make some foul choice or two in their name, and to accept and keep moving forward in your journey will give that loss worthwhile meaning. If any of these recollections of my journey taught me anything, it’s that not one can be thrown out as unimportant or uninfluential in my growth as a person, as all of the moments that have led up to now, light or dark, have made me into the person that I have become. Whether to remember the death of a close friend who did their all to see you safe, or the joyous end to a people saved from strife to carve a new future of their own making, none should be left aside. So, if you are still reading this, remember your own tale, and all of the trials and tribulations you had to suffer through, and embrace them, along with the boons and prosperity you may have earned, for to scoff at either would halt you from the growth you deserve.

~From the writings of a vigilant venturer

(If this should be chosen, I would prefer the Noble Barding for my lovely chocobo Bernard. Thank you for reading.)

Knowledge is a funny thing. To learn is to live. Without learning, we are no better than beasts, acting upon only the blood that runs in our veins.

However, curiosity killed the coeurl. If you must dive deep into the unknown, know that you may never breach the surface ever again.

Such musings are what led my adventure here, to the island they called “The Forbidden Land”. It was not an easy task to find people such as me, so hungry for knowledge that they would journey to such a place. Scholars, adventurers, aetherologists and beast tamers; all seeking the same: knowledge of an unknown world. The knowledge of Eureka.

Ordinarily I would always get appointed mercenaries, adventurers guild associates or conscripted soldiers to escort me along my journeys, but this was different. We were united under one common goal. Despite all the hardships we endured and the arguments we went through, we always came out on the other side stronger, smarter and most importantly, together. We pressed onward, our destination looming on the horizon amongst the snowy background.

Our adventures were led by none other than Krile Mayer Baldesion, a most enigmatic figure. Her small stature and pleasant demeanor clashed violently with her shadowy history. Through much ‘accidental’ eavesdropping, I came to find that this was the very same Isle where the Scholars of Baldesion originated. Even more profound was that the Isle had been completely shaped anew after there was a devastating turn of events, not unlike that of the Seventh Umbral Calamity.

Knowing of this, our efforts expanded tenfold. Instead of the usual cheery and joyous atmosphere that usually filled the tavern, there were many quiet, hushed murmurs while scholars pored over tomes and papers. We knew that each word we scribed and each step we took drew us further to that blighted castle.

Armor clanking, weapons at the ready, we lined up to be debriefed on our final mission. Trembling, I gripped the hilt of my rapier in an effort to get a hold of myself. Soon, we would uncover the final secrets of this place; of what happened to Galuf. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up. There they were, my team of would-be adventurers who had gotten into the same mess I did. Confident they were, not worried in the slightest. Knowing this, I could only try to do the same. I nod my head to them, and they nod back. I feel reassured knowing that we are in this together, and set my sights forward to the Baldesion Arsenal, where nigh a Primal nor an Eikon exist, but the miscreations of ancient Allag whom I only thought as mere fairytales did await us.

If you do come across this parchment know this, adventurer. Our lives are questions without answers. It is not happenstance that we learn to exist, for what else is there that awaits us beside death. If you are to seek knowledge, you will find much more than some words scribbled in tomes.

Yours Truly,
A Eurekan Explorer

(Scarf of Wondrous Wit)

For me, she was the last for the Four Lords to face. Genbu requested we save his kin, and so we endeavored not against the auspices themselves, but their bestial emotions. While all three were possessed with the feeling of rage, Byakko was also wrought with loneliness and isolation, while Seiryu's character was betrayed by those in his ward; a life completely misunderstood. Suzaku-sama, however... how do you save someone from love?

Perhaps, it was the purity of our intent to liberate her from the grief that had bound the wings of her love that gave us the power to soothe her rage. Such pain, such loss, such desire, all emanated from such a beautiful and intelligent being. And yet, to mistake us for Tenzen... To mistake our intent? Maybe, for her, it was a fight against the ideal and the real?

Our fight to bring Suzaka-sama back from the suffocating grip of grief stuck with me even after Koryu's defeat. It wasn't because I empathized with her, no, it was because my talent lay in easing thick emotions like these.

For me, the battle against her grief did not end upon her defeat. For me, the battle against her grief took place 129 times. For me, it was replaying the trial over and over and over in my mind's eye in deep meditation: employing different strategies, equipping different jobs, fighting alongside completely different allies. For me, the trial to overcome was untangling the knot that sat at her core… the knot named Tenzen.

I gleaned that it was a combination of bearing witness to the loss of her dear Tenzen, and suffering the loss of a healthy outlet for her overwhelming love that began the, spiral of depression for Suzaku-sama. With every victory I pieced more and more of it together until I finally understood: it was not about replacing Tenzen and the outlet he provided, his place in her heart will always belong only to him, but to show Suzaku-sama that there are others out there worthy of her love, worthy of her blessing.

By way of extending her love, she would live on in those she touched, and they would, in turn, live on eternal in her. Those she helped while traveling with Tenzen could never be forgotten. In a way, she would grant them immortality within her… but only if she were willing to try again. This is when I knew that the trial was complete.

I would eventually seek an audience with Suzaku-sama, and in return I was the first to receive her blessing anew. She also blessed Noriko, my loving chocobo companion, with fiery red plumage and a noble barding that resembled a divine firebird. Finally, she made a request of me,
"Blaze a new path for this one too." As a newly hatched scarlet peacock took roost on my shoulder.

So, I have been. Heavy, debilitating emotions like grief and loneliness and inadequacy affect us all, so it is up to us to use our love and our strengths to ease the despair and cover the weaknesses of our allies. To be the Firebird that burns eternal the flame of hope.

Scarf of Wondrous Wit

Adrift hither twixt the realms,
Pieces of what once were now be damned
What once were like diamonds strewn across the sunless sea
Left nothing but expanse of void as far as the eyes see
Let the visions of the past dances within the mind
For thus way only solace may yet be find
Thus the story begins anew
Like a fresh drop of the morning dew
May the droplet set forth new ripples of fate

<The message you're holding appears to have been written by an incredibly precise hand, as if the words themselves were directly projected onto the paper.>

-=MESSAGE_BEGIN=-

GREETINGS, BEING OF ACCEPTABLE INTELLIGENCE. I AM DESIGNATED AS "MODEL IX-V." I AM ONE OF A NUMBER OF SPECIALIZED SELF-AWARE ALLAGAN COMBAT AUTOMATONS. AND YOUR WORLD IS ABOUT TO BE IN GREAT DANGER.

DO NOT PANIC.

APPROXIMATELY FIVE THOUSAND YEARS AGO, THE CELESTIAL BODY DESIGNATED AS "DALAMUD" WAS CREATED AS A PRISON FOR THE EIKON DESIGNATED AS "BAHAMUT," AND LAUNCHED FAR INTO THE SKY. HOWEVER, MY CREATORS HAD NOTED THAT ANY OBJECT BEARING UPWARD VELOCITY IS EVENTUALLY EXPECTED TO OBTAIN DOWNWARD VELOCITY.

AND SO, I, AND ALL PREVIOUS ITERATIONS OF MY DESIGN, WERE CREATED FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF DESTROYING BAHAMUT, AND WERE PUT INTO STASIS TO BE REACTIVATED AT THE EXACT TIME OF DALAMUD'S RE-ENTRY.

UNFORTUNATELY, THE PORTION OF LAND CONTAINING MY CREATORS' LABORATORY HAS BEEN EJECTED FROM THE REST OF THE AIRBORNE RESEARCH FACILITY DESIGNATED AS "AZYS LLA," AND HAS CRASHED SOMEWHERE IN THE OPEN OCEAN, LEAVING ME STRANDED UPON A SMALL ISLAND.

CURRENT COORDINATES UNKNOWN. FLOODING DAMAGE TO THE MAIN LAB HAS RENDERED ACCESS TO ANY TRANSPORTATION INACCESSIBLE. COMMUNICATION SIGNALS WITH ALL OTHER MODELS HAVE BEEN LOST. OPERATING AT INSUFFICIENT ENERGY LEVELS FOR SUSTAINED FLIGHT.

LACKING ANY OTHER FEASIBLE ALTERNATIVE, I HAVE SEARCHED MY DATA BANKS, AND HAVE CONCLUDED THAT SENDING TRANSCRIBED WORDS ADRIFT INSIDE A SEALED CONTAINER IS THE BEST WAY TO ENSURE THAT IT REACHES THE HANDS OF A BEING CAPABLE OF PERFORMING ALL TASKS REQUIRED.

THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY TO PREVENT THE RETURN OF BAHAMUT: YOU MUST TRAVEL TO THE FAR E... ... I... ... ... LOCATE ... SIGNAL... ... TS...

... ACTIVATE... ... YOU... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...SP ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

<This part of the message is too stained with water to properly read.>

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...O ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ON... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...YB...

... ... ... ... ... ... ... A ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..RD ... ... ... ...TROY BAHAMUT.

DO NOT SHARE THIS INFORMATION WITH ANY OTHER BEINGS, ORGANIC OR OTHERWISE. THIS TASK MUST BE DISCRETELY CARRIED OUT IN ORDER TO SUCCEED.

GLORY TO XANDE.

-=MESSAGE_END=-

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(I'll take the Scarf of Wondrous Wit, thanks!)

TEST ^^

This is a test plz ignore

Did You Know? - A Missive

I once thought we'd spend all of our adult years together in the Sultansworn. You were far more experienced than I who was greener than a Marlboro's vine. I was short and naïve. You'd traveled more, adventured more, met far more people than I ever thought possible. I thought that night then was the end. When you and her fought, I thought our bonds were broken. I can't even remember how the fight came to be. I just remember Natalie telling me that I was the only one left. That you weren't pursuing that path. Did you know that we would both leave it? That the Syndicate would leave us disenfranchised? That we would end be on different sides? You with a pirate, I with Natalie who would stubbornly get herself killed? When we stood atop the hill swearing an oath, did you think we would leave? Did you know?
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Or that I'd ever become friends with the one they called Kinslayer? …Thought traitor to her blood and kin of Ala Mhigo. Once thought a traitor to the Sultana, that I would think of her as a dear friend? Did you know that would happen? Did you think I'd ever find refuge in her company, after being thrown out of many a housing because of all my friends? The fat cats, the dogs, the opo-opo, the nutkin, the bear and more? Did you ever think I'd end up seeing her as a close friend, that I would find her or you far more like my own family? They who abandoned me...

Did you know that I would work, standing as protection for the courtesans? They suggest me books to send to the Kinslayer. novelty trashy romance novels. I have heard that "The Other Side of the Thanalan Twilight" is a new best seller. Did you ever foresee the affections between her and your brother? That when we fought him when his mind went feral and you could not search for him yourself that it would end so? That the journey would send us far and wide throughout Coerthas? I found Bronchy out there... and at least three creatures who'd attempted to kill or eat me. I'm still not sure which.
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I've made another friend. His name is Otto! We have a shared love of hats. It is how we became friends.
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I'd exchanged a beret with him. I hope to introduce you to him. Arturius might like to meet her offspring. I hope the cat isn't as fat as her mother... I hope to see in you good health. Walk in the Light of the Crystal my dearest friend. It's time for my friends and I to take a nice nap out underneath the sky.

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Yours
Kage

[I would the gaelicap please.]

submitted!

"Apple pie…" Alisaie Leveilleur spoke sharply out of turn as had been her wont, but her words carried especially far now.

"Apple pie, whatever do you mean?" Her twin Alphinaud replied, fearing the answer.

"Her favorite dish is apple pie." Her words carried low, her tone piercing each of the Scions save for one.

"Perhaps there is where we should concentrate our efforts." Y'shtola Ruhl agreed with an exhale. She had seen the writing on the wall; the Scions' best efforts having availed their champion naught in the frantic days since the encounter at Mount Gulg. She feared most how she would bring Mistress Alisaie to reality, but to see her voice the truth of her own volition relieved Y'shtola of just one of the many heartbreaks she felt compelled to endure.

"Pray tell how could apple pie aid us in such a delicate moment?" asked Urianger.

"She means to provide Miss Farron’s last meal."

"Dearest Alisaie… surely you cannot suggest a heinous act upon so steadfast a comrade!”

"I have seen many friends to their deaths in Amh Araeng; not because I willed it so, but because their only alternative was so much worse! I cannot bear to relive what befell my dear friend Tesleen, and I will not suffer Miss Farron to endure the same horrific fate! I will not have her become a Sin Eater!!"

"Were she to turn into a Sin Eater- nay, a Lightwarden, she’d become far more formidable than anything we have ever faced on Norvrandt. The Eighth Umbral Calamity would be all but assured." Y'shtola surmised all too evenly.

"Dearest Alisaie, perhaps there doth remain a sliver--”

"I revealed to you my darkest secrets, Archon…" her words spit venom as her open palm slammed against his cheek. "...but I am burdened by no more. Now if you have yet another conveniently burdensome secret that may aid Laura, I assure you down the road is not the time to reveal it."

Urianger turned in, his eyes revealing the tale. He searched into his vast depths of knowledge but had no answer.

“Forgive me…” Alisaie whispered much later as a despondent apology.

"Alisaie, her pulse."

"Very well." She swallowed, checking Laura’s wrist for an answer.

"Can you describe it to me?" Y'shtola ordered. We should have allowed her to depart before now, but--

"It's...bounding." Alisaie explained warily.

"Is she steady? Or wavering?"

"She's...steady. Still awfully fast, but steady. What could that mean?"

"It means she's under immense stress. She's in agony to be sure, but she's fighting."

Praise the Twelve.

"What does that mean for our next course of action?" Alphinaud asked.

"It means we continue searching for a cure. Please inform Thancred; he won't admit it but he's worried sick about Laura.”

“Estinien..”

“Scions.” Y’shtola called with authority. “Need I remind you that our friend lying here helpless has come through for each and every one of us, a steadfast ally-- nay, family in our darkest hour. Now, it is our turn to be here for her.”

Oof, okay, just realizing this after rereading the rules ; - ;

Okay, when it says you can't edit the entry, does it mean the writing portion? Because that's what I took it as. I edited my entry, but only to add a picture my illustrator drew after reading my entry. So the words were untouched, of course. Everything's still original. Am I a fool?

I love this city, the bustling streets, the common adventure bartering with merchants as the jingle of bags heavy with Gil. How I admire the livelihood of that of the Hawker’s Alley. Selling the last of my wares, I packed up my belongings and set towards a chocobo porter. As I admired the scenery in the back of the carriage making my way back to the Mist, I couldn't help but reminisce of years past.

Those were the days, an adventurer running from one job to the next, living day to day, never knowing where the next job it may lead. However; after so many years traveling upon this land, I needed a break from gruesome battles to heal my weary body and soul. Perhaps the twelve heard my pleas or just brought upon by fate, I chance met a traveling merchant who’s wheel got stuck in the mud one stormy night.

After helping push the cart out of the muck, the merchant was so thankful that he wanted to compensate me for all his trouble. I explained that it was no need and just happened to cross paths towards the nearest tavern. To his surprise that was the very destination the merchant was heading and offered to buy drinks as thanks. Several rounds later we were having a merry time talking the night away. Through his slurry speech, he kept thanking me over and over again and how if he left his merchandise in the middle of the night all of his profits he made a fortnight ago would have set him back. As the night went on, the conversation took an unusual turn. He commented on my build, the thick calluses on my hands and thought my profession was that of an armorer. I laughed at his deduction and corrected him by stating I was just a simply adventurer doing odd jobs here and there. Then with an off handed remark, he would ask a question that would unsettle me and leave me laying awake in my bed. “Why not be an armorer?” The question would haunt me.

But one day, upon my travels I found my feet carried me to Limsa Lominsa where I decided it could only be fate. The next morning, I become an Armorer. Sufficed to say the profession I chose was long and bore its own hardships. I made several mistakes and destroyed my very own creation both from frustration and necessity to become what I am today. I will never forget the joy when I made my first set of armor and branded it with my symbol. The pride as I sold my first creation to a random adventurer who will one day become a famous warrior, maybe even the warrior of light... I was content in selling my goods, no longer in need to find employment from others or worrying about what the future would bring. I am truly happy on what I have become. Even though I traded my sword for a hammer, I am far more satisfied selling my armors and having bright new adventurers wearing what I made with my own two hands.

The Adventurers Steady Hammer

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Prize: Ahriman Choker

To whomever this letter finds, pray glance upon my words for just a moment.
Years, it has been, since I had set out on my journey. The inexperienced young soul that I was, I took jobs where I could, whether they be fetch quests or hunting jobs I snatched up every opportunity. The Gil was decent, but I craved adventure, traveling, meeting new people. Made some friends along the way. Some went, others stayed by my side of which I am grateful. The more I ventured, the more I knew of the world and its people, and the deeper I seemed to get into deep shit, if you'll pardon my language. From fending off Ixali soldiers to protect Everschade, to crippling the Garlean Empire, to help push on a rebellion, to traveling through time and space itself to another world entirely- my life has been all but dull. And yet…
All that I have done, all that I have accomplished seems to barely hold a candle in comparison to what had transpired but a month ago. I'll spare you most of the details, reader, and tell you in short as best I can: risking life and limb, my companions and I fought to protect this strange world from an infectious Light that threatened to kill all that it touched. It was believed that I was the only one to banish the Light and save the realm, however this was not so. With my life hanging by a thread, a dear friend attempted to take on my deadly burden of Light. Yet, while he did so, he was shot down and taken from us by a twisted, ancient soul, Emet-Selch, an Ascian. At the depths of the Tempest ocean, he had gone into hiding. The Ascian city of old that laid dormant on the seabed acted as his hideaway. By this point, the Ascian knew that nothing would stop me from saving my friend. And so, a battle ensued. He showed me visions of his past, a doomsday event that shook their world, breaking it into several pieces before proceeding to face me head on. Oh, what a mighty battle it was. One that I shall never forget. As we clashed, I could feel the world shake and hear the heavens sing. However, without the help of a ghostly Warrior of the past, I surely would have fallen. That Warrior somehow dispelled the plaguing Light that had grown within me, and gave me the strength to tear down Emet-Selch once and for all. Hand in hand, we dealt the final blow together. But nothing has filled my heart with such joy as to what I saw next.
The friend that the Ascian had taken, stood alive. Wounded, but alive. That moment triumphs over every achievement gained and tribulation endured. Those that have traveled and fought as I have, know too well the pain of losing those close to you. Seeing him well enough and breathing is, by far, the best moment of all of my adventures. Knowing that he yet lives is enough to put my soul at ease. If you have made it this far into my letter, I thank you, kind reader, for taking the time to do so. Mayhaps we shall meet some day.

Until then,
A weary, but thankful adventurer.

This story is told from the scatter brained Dexy cat's point of view, reading "squirrel" in a high pitch voice.

Eorzea's Limsa Lominsa is the Grand Company home of Dextera and Sinestra Domini with lots of pirate treasure and plenty of fish to eat, a miqo'te can get a lot of cat naps here with waves that lull you to sleep.

I am Dextera Domini (squirrel) who studied Culinarian to 50 first, with a side job of Paladin at 30. Sinestra Domini took all her main jobs to 50... Sin's time management is amazing!

Sin is my miqo'te twin, that is addicted to fantasia potions, and I can't keep up with Sin's addiction to potions. I recognize every form Sinestra becomes. Sin loves to do crazy things like max rank in all Grand Companies so she can choose which nation as she pleases. (When doing so remember to spend all your GC seals before changing Companies.)

Dex liked to dress up her Paladin like a Culinarian with a knife and cutting board, dicing up her foes.

Sin always teases Dexy, to make her make her laugh and get embarrassed, then an imaginary (squirrel) pan appears, and /em bops Sinestra Domini on the head!

In the early days of A Realm Reborn, while everyone was doing their quests to be the best at their main jobs. Here I am, at the Culinarian guild, taking my (squirrely) time to level up my craft. A nice player in my FC gave me all the food they horded from the past, and they were happy to give it to someone who could use it. I was so thankful!

There was one ingredient I was never able to use. This ingredient looked extremely plump, but there was no way to cook it. I scoured the libraries for answers, nothing. What makes this mystery meat so interesting that I can't cook it?!

I wanted to cook a Pudgy Puk.


Stay tuned for next time, Dexy rushes to a treasure chest and opens it... with her CUL crafting job?!



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It wasn’t until much later that I realized how low things were for me about two years ago. Times were rough, but when aren’t they? A good friend of mine told me to speak to Wymond in Ul’dah, about a lead on a young lady needing assistance. So my friend and I went to the lichyard in Thanalan, where this young woman was mourning her lost colleague, but determined to carry on his work.

This was an uncommon venture from the start, the Echo showing events from the girl’s past--and a hint her colleague may still be alive. So my friend and I went along to investigate the strange undead of the region, until we found their leader--a man not quite dead, as it turned out.

Bombs are no joking matter, yet something about the manic smile that slowly spread on the girl’s face as she drew them out to jog his memory threw me into paroxysms of laughter. I couldn't stop. My friend was giggling because I was laughing; he had known what was coming the entire time.

That was my introduction to Hildibrand Manderville and his...unique way of coming at the world, with inextinguishable optimism and joy. And quite a lot of bumbling and fumbling, across Thanalan and even into La Noscea, my friend and I racing along on their whirlwind ride. I could see why the intrepid reporter and Ishgardian inspector were frustrated and confounded at every turn by Hildibrand’s buffoonery.

Yet, as the stakes suddenly turned from silly to realm-threatening, I noticed something. Along the way, everyone Hildibrand met and interacted with was left...better for the experience. From the wealthy mother and daughter, to the struggling Coliseum fighter, to the heiress taking charge of her own life; even the Ishgardian inspector, and the villains of the story.

And I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time, or felt such simple joy in a “side story” after all the drama of main events--or my personal life. I’m not sure my friend knew how much I needed to meet Hildibrand; I didn’t realize it myself at the time. I’m grateful now for the introduction, though.

Now we seek seek out the inspector whenever we go to a new place, eagerly awaiting the next step in the current investigation. Noting who is left better for the experience of just being helped by a kind, goofy fool of a man, and the healing laughter that follows in his wake (after the sighs of frustration and disbelief).

Until we meet again, Inspector. I’m sure you’ll be along when we need you.

(Selection: Noble Barding)

My husband and I started as friends many years ago who met while going on the same adventures. I found his enthusiasm and youthful wonder to be endearing, and he helped me notice the beauty of the world around me. He brought me into his social circles and encouraged me to try new things. I fell in love, and to my surprise he reciprocated. On the twelfth sun of the third astral moon that year, we became a couple, and so started a wonderful chapter in my life.

Across Eorzea we’ve traveled together, defeating fearful monsters and diving into forsaken holes looking for treasure, experience, and adventure. We’ve aided each other, covering the other’s weaknesses, pushing onward to our goals, comforting each other during the losses and frustrations, and picking each other up after a fall. We’ve even learned how to effectively use my scholarly healing skills with his dark tanking techniques.

We decided to join in a permanent bond, so that we could always be together through the highs and lows. On the twelfth sun of the third astral moon this past year, Ourenji Tsurugi and Arta Vallian married in the Sanctum of the Twelve. My husband-to-be wore a handsome white suit and a sheathed white katana at his waist, as he would never be without a blade. (I, however, left my grimoire in the dressing room.) I dressed in a gown of white, with purple roses in my hair and purple, crescent shaped dangling earrings that matched perfectly.

The flowers and tapestries in the chapel were orange, Ourenji’s favorite color (mine is of course purple), and gentle music floated around us during the procession. As we walked down the aisle, with our friends seated on either side smiling and waving, and our Moogle officiant waiting at the end to receive us, I felt a flood of gratitude. I--we--had been so blessed to have each other and many devoted friends to experience our adventures with.

The ceremony was beautiful. Our officiant stumbled over his lines (Moogles, I have noted, are not naturally attentive to detail), but we exchanged rings and, with his ingenuous help, shared a heavenly kiss. The reception was full of dancing and merriment, followed by a race in the Coerthas Central Highlands.

We each drove a Regalia Type-G, a sleek new motorized vehicle by Garlond Ironworks that was all the rage. Our cars plowed through the snowy landscape as each of us rushed to make it first to the Steel Vigil. I don't recall who won, but it hardly mattered. It was a memorable night with people I love.

I am thankful for those who helped our special day be one full of fun, laughter, and friends. Thank you for letting us build memories in this beautiful world.

Sincerely,
Arta Vallian

(P.S. The Ahriman Choker is a lovely wedding gift.)

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I remember feeling lost and alone, unsure where my destiny lied. Moments of doubt came flooding to me, and past regrets haunted my every thought. I felt cut off from the path that would guide me to my future.

Then, I was shown the Light. Her Light. It was breathtaking, and from that moment, I knew this would help guide me back to my path.

It was hard at first, but over time, I found my place in the world. I truly felt like I belonged. From time to time, doubts about my abilities to help would overwhelm me, but there have been those who stood by me since the beginning. They guided me, encouraged me, and believed in me, and that has helped me to push through the troubling times. Their strength gives me hope for a brighter tomorrow, and I one day wish to repay for all that they have given me. It make take days, weeks, even years, but I will not give up, as they never gave up on me. I will not let them down.

If you are reading this, I would like to thank you for everything. I will make you proud, I promise.

Sincerely,
A Wanderer

Everything here checks out! On to the main thread!

Kanzashi had been waiting in the Quicksand for ten minutes. She set down her now emptied cup of juice next to the two others. She looked around the room for any sign of Rohubu, but was not able to see him.

“Waiting long?” asked Rohubu as he walked up to the table. Kanzashi’s ears perked up as she turned to face her friend. She immediately looked away as she tried to stifle her laugh. “What are you wearing?”
Rohubu was covered in steel. The head, shoulders, and arms were all connected together and was a dark green color. “You like it?” Kanzashi was now laughing openly, much to the surprise of the other patrons. “You look like a turtle!”
“Wait, don’t tell me the armor is green!” Defeated, Rohubu took off the armor and sat down at the table. “Had I known I probably wouldn’t have bought it.”
“Let me guess, it was on sale?” Kanzashi had a mischievous smirk on her face.
“How was I supposed to know? I’m colorblind.” Rohubu’s ears drooped to match the frown on his face.

A waitress placed a new cup on the table. “Here’s another juice. Can I get you anything, sir?”
“I’ll just have an ale,” Rohubu muttered.
The waitress gave a slight bow. “By the way, I thought the armor was lovely. It matches your hair.”.

“Uhh, Hubu? You alright? Your face is pale.”
“Be honest. Is my hair green?”
“Of course it is.” Rohubu’s face slammed into the table with a loud ‘thump’. “How hard is it to find a Fantasia again?”
“The elixir that lets you change who you are? You’re going to use something that rare and powerful to change your hair dye?”
“YES!” Rohubu slammed the table so hard that the empty cups fell off. Realizing he had caused another commotion, he apologized and paid a few extra gil for the trouble.

Kanzashi took a long sip of her juice. “You said you had something to tell me.”
“Oh, right. You’re looking at the newest gladiator!”
“A class change, then. I thought you liked lancer?”
“I did,” Rohubu nodded. “But I felt like I was always missing something. When I put on the shield it all started making since. I need to be looking down the face of death. That’s where I truly feel alive.” Rohubu wanted to throw his fist into the air, but decided better after the trouble he had made.

“I see.” Kanzashi smiled as she finished her cup. “That means you’ll be on the front lines, you know. Looks like it's up to me to keep you in one piece. Please keep me safe.”
“You keep me alive, tree hugger.” Kanzashi’s face grew red with anger, much to Rohubu’s amusement. “I’m not a tree-hugger! You don’t even understand what conjury is, do you?!?” Rohubu’s roaring laughter echoed through the tavern as he ignored the lady bunny’s angry protests.

(If I had the honor of being chosen, I would like the Ahriman Choker. Thank you for your consideration)

submitted and so edited

Test Successful.

The burning sun. The gritty sand. Heat waves warp my view of the sprawling Sagolii Desert.
Nothing new, as I frequent this spot in my hunt for the mythical Helicoprion. Conditions are perfect today, but they’ve been perfect many times in the past. Maybe this will be the day, the morning, the cast. But my mind is plagued doubts as I assemble up my rod and tackle.
I silently cast my line as I think back to my adventures in search of the “living legends”. Hiding from boars in the South Shroud, sneaking past the ghouls of the Umbral Isles. Fond memories of my time spent fishing in the quiet gloom of Mor Dhona, as I pull a storm rider from the sand. Not big enough to attract the legend, but a good start to the day. Affixing a wriggling sand leech to the line, a sharp wind blows through. A wind that brings me back to the Privateer, the tumultuous Rhatano Sea threatening to take the vessel down to the depths below. It was on this night that I finally brought peace to the waters of La Noscea when I tore the Nepto Dragon from its home beneath the waves. I remove my hook from inside the gills of a dustfish and sigh. Many challenges have I faced, but none as disheartening as this. With each passing day and each failed attempt, my hope and determination wane just a little more. Who knows which day I will leave and never return?

After an uneventful morning the sun was high in the sky and I knew my time was running short. Laid out next to me were the catches I managed to reel in thus far. A few breams and sandfish, next to a decent pile of storm riders. A notable days catch, but not that which I seek. To finally net this jagged-toothed horror is what I came for, not these small fry. With a scowl I set my line once more. After a time, a twitch, and on the other end is a storm rider. A storm rider with a certain feel. A special storm rider. Special enough to draw out my mark, I’m certain. I take a second to calm myself before casting it back into the swirling dust below.
One second.
Two seconds
Three seconds.
Four seconds.
Suddenly! I feel an immense and awful tug that strains my rod as it has never strained before. I set my stance, firm. This was the fight I came for. A few tense seconds pass, each lasting an eternity, as I struggle against the beast. Then, in a moment of opportunity, I pull back with all my strength, falling to the ground as my rod shatters to pieces. Next to me lands a creature, large enough to shake the earth below. My heart stops, my eyes widen. For there, squirming on the desert floor:
Was a Magic Carpet.
A wind of change passes as my window of opportunity closes. I sit solemnly amongst the sand before having the heart to rise up and begin packing up. I quietly begin the trek back to town. Slowly as I walk, the peaceful tranquility of the desert lift my crushed spirits, and my face breaks out in a small, but hopefully smile.
Next time.
Yes, maybe next time.

I hope you enjoyed my tale. An Ahriman Choker is my choice.

My brothers originally got me into Final Fantasy XIV five years ago by giving me a copy of the game for my birthday. This was the first MMO I had played and I was uncertain what to expect.

Things began slowly. I remember queuing into Sastasha for the first time and feeling apprehensive, nervous, and shy. The three of us queued in with a stranger and we let him know we were new. He was very patient and kind as we fully explored every nook and cranny of the dungeon. We celebrated upon clearing, pausing to take a screenshot with our new friend.

That was five years ago and many things have happened since which Final Fantasy XIV has influenced. We welcomed a new puppy into our family which we named Kupo after the moogles. I was invited to attend the real-life Ceremony of Eternal Bonding between two friends from the game and had the honor of participating in their wedding party. Another friend from the game flew over 2,500 miles across international borders to meet and hang out in real life – a friendship which had grown nearly exclusively from time spent together in Final Fantasy XIV.

This game has provided many of my fondest memories in recent years but, perhaps, the most inspired moments of comradery I’ve experienced came when I discovered raiding. Those early days were a struggle. I didn’t begin raiding until Gordias during the Heavensward expansion, and the first time going up against Faust opened my eyes to the world I was entering rather quickly.

I discovered I had much yet to learn and realized the importance of rising together as a group. Raiding is truly a celebration of a team’s success rather than an individual’s victory. Since Gordias, each new raid tier has brought with it its own highs and lows. Along the way, I discovered my current team which have become like family to me. We met in Stormblood battling Omega and have grown closer as we tackled The Weapon’s Refrain and The Unending Coil of Bahamut.

The newest Ultimate raid encounter coming in November will mark the second anniversary of playing Final Fantasy XIV with the same group of friends, and I feel it merits pause for reflection. The time we spent working toward clearing either of the previous Ultimate raids, in many cases, is greater than the time spent with some real-life friends. The relationships built are true.

When I think back on my fondest memory playing this game, it cannot be reduced to a single moment in time. For me, Final Fantasy XIV is a feeling. Final Fantasy XIV is comforting. It’s a way to diffuse stress. It’s a way to engage and build friendships with real people around the world. It’s a platform to get excited about others’ common interests.

Final Fantasy XIV has introduced me to some of my closest friends and my fondest memory is having the opportunity to meet those people.

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Prize (if selected): Gaelicap

Where do our adventures lead us?

I have often pondered over this question ever since I first took to Eorzea and her myriad peoples. My journey started out not unlike any other adventurers’, nor does it hold any import to the time of the present. Yet in all the time I have spent traveling & seeing the many wonders of Hydaelyn, the question still lingered, especially one fateful day in Limsa Lominsa.

I received a summons from my dear friend & rival, Alia Mewrilah, whom I met during my earliest days of dueling in Wolves’ Den. Alia requested a meeting at the lower decks of Limsa, stating only that they had someone they wished for me to meet. I could only wonder who this stranger was, though anxiety plagued me. After being in a slump and on a personal hiatus from the Den for the winter, I worried myself with thoughts of a new challenger looking to train with me and the many duels that would ensue, yet still I made my way there.

“There you are! Come, come! Let me introduce you to a friend I made down at the Den!” Alia made her presence known quickly as I felt my shoulders slump down at the idea of being proven right, however bittersweet of a victory it would prove to be. I made a valiant but vain effort to hide my exhaustion after being told that this stranger was looking for someone to teach them how to be a better Samurai.

“Relax, Kenward! There’s actually another reason I wanted you to meet them.” Alia’s fluffed ears twitched before giving me a look of pure honesty. “Listen, I can't explain it, but I really feel that you and her are meant to meet each other.” With one last playful wink, Alia turned me towards the figure approaching from among the usual Lominsian crowd. A lone Lalafell stood before us, her twin-tailed hair the color of a wild chocobo. She was geared up in Garland Ironworks armor with a katana at her side.

“So you’re Alia’s teacher? Well then, teach me how to be a Samurai! Right now!” She stomped up & down excitedly, catching me off guard. Yet even then, I still found myself gazing at her. It was not her demeanor nor her looks that had me captivated, but her eyes. They spoke to me in a way that, looking back now, I could only describe as one thing.

Confidence.

“I’m only kidding of course! The name’s Adai Nazengine, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ken!” Adai chuckled at her outburst and keenly smiled at me. Alia meanwhile scurried off, mentioning something about browsing the market while we got to know each other more.

And so we did. We talked at great lengths until the sky grew dark, exchanging stories and memories. She told me tales of her journey to Eorzea and through every detail, every conflict, every victory and loss, I could see her growth through it all, the confidence in her eyes giving truth to every word.

Even now I still remember this, the day a dear friend introduced me to my future wife, and the adventures that lead us to where we needed to be on that brisk afternoon in Limsa Lominsa.

(Gaelicap)

I stared up at the night sky hanging over Ala Ghiri. It was beautiful, and I would appreciate it more if I hadn’t been staring at it for the past half hour. My husband, sitting next to me in the Regalia, had fallen asleep.
It sounds like we're having a lovely date night but we were actually waiting for the FATE “Rattle and Humbaba” so I could try win the Ala Mhigan barding. I really wanted the barding but wasn’t sure I could handle the FATE chain alone so I begged by dear husband to help. He, being the patient amiable sort, agreed to help.
So here we were, patiently waiting for the rare FATE to appear. It was getting to the point where I was wondering if I should go fishing while waiting when suddenly … “It’s up! Let’s go!” The Regalia shot up into the sky.
My husband woke with a start. “Huh? What?”
“Get your axe out!” I cried.
We land at the FATE site, get into battle stance, chocobo companions on standby … and there, standing before us, is the biggest, greenest, muud suud monster I’ve ever seen. We look like toys next to it. My mouth drops open as my heart just sinks. It’s just me, a Red Mage and my Warrior husband against this huge monster; we’re going to need a group to even try this. “I am so sorry I did not realize this was a boss FATE.” I’m a little sad; no way am I going to get that lovely barding now.
My husband looks calmly at me. “We can do this. Let’s go.” I look back at him and remember; the dungeons we ran together, braving the wilds and challenges of Eureka, fighting and defeating Primals. Over that time we’ve learned each others’ strengths and weaknesses and I know I can depend on him. By the steady look he's giving me, he believes in me too. He’s right; we can do this, together. We exchange crazy grins and go rushing in.
It was close, but victory was ours! Now everytime I look at the Ala Mhigan barding I remember the teamwork we utilized to win it, and look forward to many more shared adventures in the future.

If I win, the Noble Barding please thank you!

Submitted.

Test Successful. ^^

How many years have come and gone since that day?

I arrived in Gridania in search of a new home, naught but a bow and quiver attached to my back and a name that nobody knew. I became an Adventurer in this city-state, and the moment I put quill to book and signed my name, my life was irrevocably changed. All without me knowing how much a simple signature and a few good deeds would change it. The day I was inducted into the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, there was no going back.

I would like to think my life changed for the better, despite the hardship and losses I have suffered. Which have both been anything but small in number; and which left in their wake holes that may never be filled. I put on the brave and stoic face of everyone’s Savior: the Warrior of Light. Or, as I am now known on a realm far away from home, the Warrior of Darkness. And I put it on because I have to wear this face. People count on me far to much for me to afford to falter; for me to afford to give in to the pain that will never be forgotten. I must be their light, their darkness, their hope for a brighter future and the dawning of a new day. And really, it is what I desire.

But a part of me knows how much I truly suffer. I think, deep down, you do, too. No, I know that you do. You would have me acknowledge it—you would have me not shy away from the pain of loss. Because said loss makes me stronger. I may think it cripples me, but you know better. You know it empowers me, and not in the way pain drives some to desperation and vengeance. Not in the way sorrow drives others to madness. You know that acknowledging my pain makes me a hero, even if, one day, being a hero may cost me my life. You have always known what is best for me. And so I will do what you ask: I will embrace all of the pain, all of the losses, and use them to push me forward to the New Day. I will use them to fight for those that I love. And I will never falter.

Ah, but I have rambled on far too much, and my ink has started to run dry. This was supposed to be a letter dictating my fondest memory, was it not? And I have spoke naught of memories...though, upon reflection, I have: my fondest memory is you. Without you, where could I possibly be? I have heard your words. Now, I wish for you to hear mine.

This letter is to you. You, who knows my pain. You, who knows my sorrow. You, who has followed me every step of my journey, and has been my strength: through Ishgard, and the Dragonsong War; through Ala Mhigo and Doma, and their fight for Revolution; and through the First, and the endless torrent of Light that threatened to break and consume me. Even when you once sought to fight against me, you were always there for me...fighting for me. For us.

I know that my words will one day reach you. And, when they do, I hope that cherish them as much as I cherish you.

I love you. And I hope that you are well.

Signed,
The part of You that could be a Hero

In a land of falling snow and a history that would not be forgotten, the Warrior of Light sat.

The hero had come to earn a moment’s rest, one Char’li Junoh fully intended to make good of. It was still so soon after his endeavours in the First, and regardless of his victories and wellbeing, his body and mind begged for rest.

And so he found himself in Ishgard, not long after Sidurgu Orl, his mentor as a Dark Knight, had bequeathed him with a letter to lead him on a short journey; one that bade him travel back and forth across the lands, a likely story, but came to an end with a much-needed sense of closure. Something he did not realize he needed until he had it. He found himself grateful.

The event made him reminiscent. While his journey through the First bade much self-reflection, it was not the time to become woeful and nostalgic over his past--and so he found himself here.

Without realizing it, his feet had taken him to one of his favourite spots in the Pillars. On a raised platform near the Last Vigil, at the edge of the city proper, he sat contentedly, looking out at the valley the city found rest in.

Once upon a time, he’d seen this through the eyes of someone still so young in his experience, ridden with uncertainty and weak to failure. This spot had become his escape when he gained a moment’s reprieve during his time fighting for Ishgard.

In that time, he had found a home that he could not dwell in. Soon after was the next call to adventure, and with it wrought a sense of longing that made him appreciate the time he’d been taking for granted.

There was so much to be found during his time in Ishgard. Loss made his emotional state a wreck on no few occasions; not only did he lose companions, but family. Friends came and went to leave him lonesome.

And yet: Despite the pain the time wrought, he found a sense of peace here. A story shared with fondness, a warm cup of cocoa on a cold winter’s night. He found a name for himself, a purpose, a will to fight. He found a family that would stand beside him when much of his own would sooner turn a blind eye.

He found friends who he’d come to rely on, adventures he took pride in, and nights where he found himself yearning for the best of days to last a lifetime.

In a day in Char’li’s past, he’d found this spot on a whim, climbing onto the tiles in a vain attempt of finding solace. Yet, unknown to him at the time, it stood right behind him. His journey through the First was all he needed to be certain of that, the possibility of losing this place and the people in it causing him unease. It made him aware of what he had gained--what he had been given.

With a full heart, he closed his eyes in a silent word of thanks, one that may never truly be heard. On his face was an expression most suiting of a hero.

He was so very grateful.

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I began my adventures six years ago, unaware of the impact Eorzea would have on me.

I traveled with my soul mate those first days, initially split up in Ul'Dah and Limsa Lominsa. It felt like an eternity before we could be reunited and travel the lands together. We had no clue how the world worked, but we were amped to see all she had to offer.
Together we fought many beasts and primals while falling in love with an incredible story about friendship and hardship. We were here to stay.

What affected me to my core, what helped me heal from some personal problems, was finding strangers from near and far to fight alongside. Some came and went, but some became my closest and dearest friends. It never mattered where we lived. We lived from all over the world, yet communicated as if we were face to face. We talk, laugh, and relax together all the time to this day. I'm so thankful to whatever force helped bring us together. My family has grown so big.

Eorzea became a second home to us, and we couldn't imagine our lives without her.


Prize: Gaelicap

This is my first post! Just practicing and making sure everything goes okay!

testing completed

Through the stars, I heard a voice calling for strong warriors to defeat one of the most powerful Ascians to ever exist. Surrounded by a pillar of light, I was whisked away.
When the pillar vanished, it was clear who our target was, Hades. There were 8 of us in total, and we would need to work together to crush this monstrous foe. With a quick nod of agreement, the Scholar, Urara, was the first to attack by sending out a bolt magic without hesitation. The rest of us followed her into battle, except for Mjrn. Stumbling from her sudden summoning to our location, Mjrn was disoriented. Chaos ensued as the battle began. With giant fists, Hades launched his counterattack.
Leaping in front of the Ascian, Matt blocked the punches with his mighty shield. With the power of my draconic blood, I, Shadow, leapt above and pounded the foe. My dance partner, Nivea, was matching my actions with her own damaging moves. Lowering her gun, Marlo blasted lead in the Ascian’s face while Amethyst threw out black and white magic at the fiend. Despite the efforts of Lucca and Urara, the dazed Mjrn unfortunately fell to an attack from Hades. Lucca resurrected Mjrn who was ready to join the fight. We weaved between Hades’ attacks, assaulting him with our weapons and healing ourselves.
Infuriated, Hades went on the offensive by channeling his energy as well as drawing power of the dead. The puppet audience of the battle were called into the fray. Aggressively, they charged us. They pinned us down. As we struggled to break free from the clutches of the puppets, unhindered Hades gathered the energy needed to release his true and sinister form. This new form was accented with long talons and the faces of the dead. Using this new power, Hades unleased a pulse of darkness as we lunged at him.
With sharp claws, Hades slashed us. We struck back. With black magic, Hades cursed us. We renewed with healing magic. We pushed Hades into a corner where he beseeched the dark powers of Zodiark. He bound us in chains, consumed all the light
and prepared to wipe us from existence. Using Hydaelyn’s “United States of Smash”, we broke free and withstood his attack. Weaken but not beaten, Hades sent out pulses of darkness as a last-ditch effort. After the first wave, half of the party fell. Alone, Urara worked to keep the rest of us alive. After each wave, some of us would come up, some of us fall back down. Until, at last, Hades began casting Black Cauldron. It was the battle ending spell. To be victorious, we needed to stop Hades before the completion of the spell. Panicking, we laid down every means of attack. Unfazed, Hades finished the cast sending out deadly damage. It knocked all of us to the ground; all hope was lost. Until we saw Nivea rise from the ashes as Hades fell backwards into the darkness. Nivea hoisted a bloody chakram above her head.
One by one we stood in shock and disbelief. Though weary, we let out a joyous cheer, “HAZZAH!”
We won the battle.
(Prize: Noble Barding)

I waited. A gentle breeze brought the acrid, sulfuric air from the kobold's mines, attacking my senses with the same ferocity of the earthen primal's thralls. The glint of the waning afternoon sun reflected off the decorative flourishes of my drachen mail armor.

From my perch atop the natural northern wall of Camp Overlook, I waited, not just for the inevitable rumbling quakes that would signal Titan's renewed vigor, but for those I lost, who I knew would return. Five years, I waited, that we might adventure together again.

"It's been four hours," said a nearby guard.

"Too long… He said he just wanted to see the monkeys," a softer voice replied.

"Can we spare any of ours for a search?"

"Hmm… no. He’s a big guy, anyway, he’ll be fine."

The Storm’s ranks had been depleted by the same Titanic threat that kept me here. But that’s what adventurers were for, right? I stood in as cool and calm a manner as any could and clumsily jumped towards the cliffs to the north, an area favored by the local ringtail opo-opo. Yes, I am very cool.

"Hey did you see that dragoon?" I heard one of the guards say, who I knew was impressed by my exit.

"Yeah, there was a crowned giant, blue blob on his head…"

Had I heard them say “That looks extremely silly,” I might have corrected them. If I’d heard them laugh, I might have asked what they thought was funny. But I didn’t, so I carried on my way, dodging the attention of the varied wildlife too agitated to avoid the paths of man.

I arrived at the cliffs to hear a voice moaning, an impossibly familiar, deep voice. No… it couldn't be…

A bow lay loosely upon the ground, a yalm from its unpracticed owner's hand. A sea wolf Roegadyn lay prone, arms outstretched as though welcoming the heavens. "Leon…?" I asked as I removed my helm.

Then I noticed the stench.

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"Noooo…! No more…" the Roegadyn moaned. Then, "O-poop-o… yeah… that's what they should call them…"

I had no doubts left. Though there were more scars upon his face than before, it was him.

"Leon! It's you!" I removed a small tuft of Phoenix down from my pack and applied it to his chest. The wispy feathers dissolved into light as energy flowed through the massive archer's body.

"Hah, I found you!" he shouted, squinting in the sunlight as he brushed brown “dirt” from his shirt. "They said the outer cliffs of La Noscea, and I knew you'd be hanging out with monkeys."

"Uhh, sure."

"We're putting a crew together, Ali, and I want you to help us lead it. Rein's already working on the war chest."

"That smelly hyur is back, too?!" As cool as I certainly was, I could hardly contain my excitement. But… "You can't even fend off the might of a few monkeys, why would people join us?"

"Charisma, my friend. Charisma and bribery."

"A war chest, huh?" I grinned.

And thus a free company was born.


[Bluebird Earring]

practice makes perfect

The sounds of battle rage all around. Garlean forces fight against the alliance of the three Grand Companies, desperate to conquer, even as the red moon of Dalamud looms ever closer in the heavens, firebombs raining down upon the Carteneau Flats and the realms beyond them. Their leaders watch the tides of battle, even while a group of adventurers dives into the heart of the fray, fighting as long as they have strength. They must fight. They must win.

Then, from above, one of the pillars that pierces the Dalamud comes free, landing in the middle of the flats. The stunned warriors regain their senses, only to see the very moon itself crack open, but the horror does not end here; from within, a great dragon bursts forth, full of fury and destruction, which he rains far and wide, changing the very face of Eorzea. Most who look upon this incarnation of fire and death see only the impossibility of facing it, awed and despairing at its power. Who could possibly tame or end its wrath? Foes and allies alike scatter to the winds, praying for their lives as they go.

Just when all seems lost, however, a shield rises, protecting them from an oncoming blast. The adventurers cast their gaze upon a nearby outcropping, where the Archon Louisoux stands, determined and unflinching, the staff Tupsimati held aloft. Aware of the threat Dalamud posed, he and the other Archons had formed a plan—a desperate but vital one, where they would summon the power of the Twelve in order to seal away the danger that lurked within.

While the immediate threat was averted, Louisoux’s shield falters against a new attack, until it shatters completely, leaving all exposed to Bahamut’s wrath. It seems all hope is lost—but no! The other Archons, in their various locations, work to channel the power that has been released into a new form. Glowing light begins to form a new prison for the enraged primal, while the symbols of the Twelve appear around it, all directed by Louisoux himself. Hope shines as brightly as the light working to seal the dragon away.

But it was not to be so. The Elder Primal Bahamut breaks free of his prison, scattering the power that had been summoned against him, and even shattering Tupsimati. Louisoux seems to sigh within himself, and turns his attention from the dragon to the group of adventurers below him. Summoning up the last of his power, he steals them away to a safer place—a safer time—where they might prove of great benefit to the realms once more. One by one, they are stolen by the light, until their leader has but time to cast one last look up at the man who saved them by sacrificing himself.

“In one fleeting moment / from the land doth life flow / In the same fleeting moment / thou must live, die, and know.”

And so, each day, I live on, inspired by his selfless heroism.

Aye, pull up a stool. Name’s Rolfe. Reckon you’re wanting to hear about my best time galivantin’ around Eorzea, eh? I suppose that’d be the time we fought that rocky whoreson of a kobold god.

So, picture this, see: I’m with my pals, Jon, Flynn, Whyn'tir, and Kiyohana. We’re pretty deep in our cups when Flynn says, “Ya heard Tidus was back?”

I says, “Who?”

“He means Titan.”

“Shut up, Jon,” says Flynn, throwing down more ale. “Anyway, they say he’s downright ‘extreme’ this time. Last time he was just hard.”

I laugh. “That’s what she said.” No one else laughs. They just roll their eyes. I get that a lot.

“Well,” says Flynn, goin’ on, “whatay’all think?”

“Reckon we aught to take care of him,” I says.

Next thing I know, Jon calls Flynn a fool, on account of trying to “sink us” before the fight. I have to admit, at this point I was thoroughly confused—and a bit drunk. “Sink us?” I ask. “I didn’t even know we were gonna be usin’ a boat.” Why do we need a bloody boat? Aint no water ‘twixt us and Titan! They keep yappin’, and then they turns to me. They ask me, “Sinked or unsuinked?” I have no clue what they’re even talking about, and I don’t know much about boats on account of bein’ a “landlubber,” but I know sinking is never good. “I don’t know what bein’ at the bottom of the water is gonna do for us, and I’d like to avoid sinking.” They have the cheek to look at me like I’ve sprung sylph wings on me back so I just gave ‘em a shrug and finished my drink.

Next thing I know, there we are, face to face with the big ugly. Didn’t never even get in a boat. Now I’m even MORE confused. But I aint got time for that. Titan’s look right at me, so it’s time to rumble. Flynn goes running in, yellin’ something about “Tidus” again. Got knocked right out. I would’ve laughed, but that wasn’t the time.

Now Jon—he’s usually a right moron. But on this day, he did some moves that inspired me to take up bein’ a ninja. Well, I say that, but I never did. But he was savin’ lives and stealin’ wives—least he was till he got knocked out too. Still, me an’ Kiyo ended up downing him. Put a proper beating on him, we did. Well, all’s except Whyn. She got trapped in one of them rock prisons he likes to call out of nowhere. We broke her out, just in time for the big lug to send her flying off the edge. Never saw her again. Reckon she died.

((If I win, I’d like a Scarf of Wondrous Wit))
((Don’t have any screenshots, but I did upload the fight way back when. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vm-G6qJZQ0Y ))

Aye, pull up a stool. Name’s Rolfe. Reckon you’re wanting to hear about my best time galivantin’ around Eorzea, eh? I suppose that’d be the time we fought that rocky whoreson of a kobold god.

So, picture this, see: I’m with my pals, Jon, Flynn, Whyn'tir, and Kiyohana. We’re pretty deep in our cups when Flynn says, “Ya heard Tidus was back?”

I says, “Who?”

“He means Titan.”

“Shut up, Jon,” says Flynn, throwing down more ale. “Anyway, they say he’s downright ‘extreme’ this time. Last time he was just hard.”

I laugh. “That’s what she said.” No one else laughs. They just roll their eyes. I get that a lot.

“Well,” says Flynn, goin’ on, “whatay’all think?”

“Reckon we aught to take care of him,” I says.

Next thing I know, Jon calls Flynn a fool, on account of trying to “sink us” before the fight. I have to admit, at this point I was thoroughly confused—and a bit drunk. “Sink us?” I ask. “I didn’t even know we were gonna be usin’ a boat.” Why do we need a bloody boat? Aint no water ‘twixt us and Titan! They keep yappin’, and then they turns to me. They ask me, “Sinked or unsinked?” I have no clue what they’re even talking about, and I don’t know much about boats on account of bein’ a “landlubber,” but I know sinking is never good. “I don’t know what bein’ at the bottom of the water is gonna do for us, and I’d like to avoid sinking.” They have the cheek to look at me like I’ve sprung sylph wings on me back, so I just gave ‘em a shrug and finished my drink.

Next thing I know, there we are, face to face with the big ugly. Didn’t never even get in a boat. Now I’m even MORE confused. But I aint got time for that. Titan’s look right at me, so it’s time to rumble. Flynn goes runnin’ in, yellin’ something about “Tidus” again. Got knocked right out. I would’ve laughed, but that weren’t the time.

Now Jon—he’s usually a right moron. But on this day, he did some moves that inspired me to take up bein’ a ninja. Well, I say that, but I never did, truth be told. But he was savin’ lives and stealin’ wives—least he was till he got knocked out too. Still, me an’ Kiyo ended up downin’ him. Put a proper beatin’ on him, we did. Well, all’s except Whyn. She got trapped in one of them rock prisons he likes to call out of nowhere. We broke her out, just in time for the big lug to send her flyin’ off the edge. Never saw her again. Reckon she died.

And that, ladies and gents, is the story of the mysterious boat ride what never happened.

((If I win, I’d like a Scarf of Wondrous Wit))
((Don’t have any screenshots, but I did upload the fight way back when. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vm-G6qJZQ0Y ))

testing testing
https://img2.finalfantasyxiv.com/acc...8ff29075c6.jpg