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

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I've been in Eorzea for a longtime and it's been roughly four years now. I've had quite a journey in that time. But there was a time, like every adventurer before and after, when I first stepped onto her lands. I still remember when I first laid my eyes upon The Black Shroud in all it's splendor, her great boughs and trees as far as my eyes could see them. I was travelling with Alpinaud, his sister Alisaie, before I truly knew them. There was also Bremondt the merchant, and of course that moogle taking a swig at Bremondt's ale.

And of course, my first introduction to the Ixal. It's hard to forget such a thing, especially when an arrow lands right at your feet. Thankfully The Twelve were with us that day, if it weren't for the wood wailers I might have died, or worse. During the journey Bremondt asked me what I wanted out of an adventurer's life. And I couldn't give him an answer, I just stayed silent, at the time I was still shy around other folk. Moonseekers don't always get treated well in Gridania, thanks to the Courl Claws, those traitors. For a discipline, I had decided to take up the lance, the weapon has been used by many an adventurer or soldier. And what better weapon to put your foes at a distance while still being able to defend yourself when things get up, close, and personal. Before we all parted ways Bremondt gifted me with a ring, as a thanks for giving him some company on the trip, we then said our good byes and I walked towards the city of Gridania.

Sometime later I participated in the Little Ladies Day (2014) event. I still have the Edvya doll even now, as it reminds me of my fondest memories. I still can't get enough of those sweet rice cakes, I just miss those perfect little confections. But the one event that really hooked me into Eorzea, was the Moonfire Faire (2014). It's the one event that truly brought me into the fold and the events that followed only made me further my stay into this strange new land. I can say without a doubt that all the festivals and events in Eorzea, have been truly endearing to me, as a player and as an adventurer. :o

( Prize: Scarf of Wonderous Wit ) ( Notes: I'm aware that editing is not allowed but in this case it was an accident ^^; )

My adventures began before the Battle of Carteneau, when the land of Eorzea seemed a wholly different place. Conjury was my calling, even in those early days as an adventurer, but I struggled to find my place. I provided aid during countless battles, yet my own role within the world seemed to leave no lasting impact. True, I offered healing and succor to those who were wounded and weary from battle, but my efforts seemed hollow. Was I truly helping to change Eorzea for the better? Did my actions truly matter when so many continued to suffer at the hands of both man and monster alike?

It wasn’t until a chance encounter, some years later, that I was finally able to understand. My individual actions were so easily lost in the chaos of tragedy, but it was when I acted together, as part of something bigger, that change could truly occur. True, it took time for me to acclimate to this new life. So many years spent wandering alone made it difficult, at times, to speak up and make my views known. Yet you always welcomed my words and reminded me that I was no longer a single voice, but part of a greater whole. Together we grew, together we celebrated, and together we mourned.

I still recall the day our adventures began and it is one of my most precious memories. I do not doubt that for you it was simply another day in Eorzea, but for me it was the day that my world changed for the better. For if I hadn’t found you, if you had not accepted me into your fold and welcomed me as a friend, I might still be doubting my own worth within these lands. From the bottom of my heart I thank you, my friends. There is nowhere I could be happier than in your company.

- exerpt from the journal of Shiori Tsukuda



((If this entry is chosen, I would like the Noble Barding, please.))

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 would 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 you 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


Prize: Gaelicap

I was a lone wanderer for many a moon. The only companions at my side my Egi and my faithful Chocobo Whistler. We journeyed together from the cool and breezy shores of Limsa Lominsa, all the way through darkness and void to the first. It was really just the three of us, and yet there was always a longing for more. Much like so many, I joined up with others in the cause, fighting the good fight, grimoire tattered and worn, flecks of blood and ink adorning the pages. I prized myself on my skills, and yet, when the journey was done, and we would part ways, I would look back and wonder on what was missing for me.

It was such a simple gesture on that lonely Limsa night. Having just completed a task as set for me by my Grand Company I stepped out towards the aft castle and was immediately beset by a rather energetic Miqote waving to me with such exhilaration. We talked for a moment and he invited me to join his small band. Having been alone for some time I could not see a reason to say no. The invite was sent, and the pack agreed. I became Alacer D’orianna of the Starlight Serenity.

The first few days took some getting used to. All the buzzing and action in my ear almost seemed unwarranted. So used to the silence and solitude. Yet, in such a short time so many new friendships emerged. I wasn’t alone anymore. I still had the loving and caring companionship of my egis and whistler. But now there was more. There was Maia, Suz, and Mark. Tye jumping about the house trying to climb the roof. Together we faced the many challenges of Eureka, more than one falling the seismic force of Titan. We were more than just a gathering. This was my free company and I was so pleased to call them my friends.

When we moved to a new home, I was so pleased to see that a room was available for me. I set up my own personal space from which i could find respite. Just a small location from which I could some quiet. Yet, I know that people were sneaking in, the crumbs of pilfered sandwich’s always made me smile as I sat at my desk writing in my grimoire of the fantastic feats that we had accomplished. Through our combined efforts I not only surpassed my own skill as a summoner, but progressed further with both Black and Red magicks. I had a purpose now. I wanted to be useful to my friends. I wanted to give back all that they had given me.

When we fought we would joke and laugh, we learned when to dodge, when to attack, we learned that sometimes you fall, but we would always be there to raise or ascend someone from the depths. It truly is a magical experience. For when you have a Free Company, you truly are the most free.

I am Alacer D’orianna, High Summoner for the Starlight Serenity. And my fondest memory, was finally finding a home.

Thank you for this opportunity. I would feel honored to ride around with the Noble Barding if I am so lucky to place.

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

The hero had come to earn a moment’s repose, 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 well-being, 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 nor place 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 better suiting of a hero.

He was so very grateful.

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(Noble Barding)

(Noble Barding)

It was hot, even a mere 18 suns past Heavensturn, on the day we gathered in Southern Thanalan to award an errant tiger to one of our most devoted Hunters. It was hot, yet it was a momentous day for The Clan Centurio, and the whole of the land was there.

There were delegates from Ala Mhigo, once exiled nearby, stoic Hingans, and we Ishgardians, wilting under the sun in our Coerthan robes. The Mythril Eye, Harbor Herald, and Raven had sent their reporters, delivering blow-by-blow accounts of the scene into their linkshells. On the southern slopes a few curious Amal’ja eyed the event, keeping their distance to avoid provoking the crowd.

And a crowd it was! Even on a normal day an S Rank attracts dozens of the realm’s finest warriors, and this occasion had doubled its size. The golem Nunyunuwi idled at the fore, its disinterest a stark contrast to the buzz of excitement around it.

“Is Kage here? Is this his 2000th S Rank?” a Hunter shouted.

“So the legends say,” another replied.

“Let’s let him pull!”

And so they did – the crowd parted, and the miqote-of-the-hour, in his trademark red crown, strode forward and began to cast.

Adventurers themselves drive the Hunt, without the militant prodding of Grand Company orders, or the urgency of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn missions. Those thrillseekers who labor to draw out the most dangerous of Rank S marks do so of their own desire, as do those who trek the realm bell after bell battling even the smallest of Rank As. For many moons they, not we, had counted down in anticipation of one of their own reaching the goal we had set, and today rallied about him.

A flash of frenetic activity, and in an instant the rocks that made up the terrific golem faded into the landscape. Silence fell and the Hunters looked about to see what came next. The Chairman wove through the crowd, stopped before Kage, and proffered a summoning horn. With a broad smile, he loudly pronounced, “Adventurer… You Got Game!”

Cheers and {Congratulations!} erupted. Fireworks and chimes echoed through the arid canyon. Though blushing, the wag in the miqote’s tail betrayed his joy – surely this would become one of his fondest memories. The Hunt may rival Ishgardian lawn tennis for its petty politics and competing factions, but today he had united it in celebration.

Kage kept his remarks brief, for it was a hot day. He thanked those who lured the marks from hiding, those who ran the Hunt linkshells, and most of all those who had hunted alongside him on his long road.

We wish here to echo these sentiments. The Hunt is not something that can be done alone, but nor is cooperation the natural state. Thank you, adventurers, for overcoming differences, for working together. Your camaraderie has taken The Hunt to places we never imagined it could go.

With humblest sincerity,
The Clan Centurio

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To say that Elizabeth’s evening was going rather poorly would have been an understatement so large even a ravenous Goobbue could not swallow it. Having been allotted the most impossible of Grand Company requests, this pint-sized Blacksmith was of a foul mood as she stomped down the Emerald Avenue of Ul’dah. Eager to drown herself in a tankard of cheap booze from the Quicksands, she turns to walk up into that bustling tavern; before pausing quite suddenly as something catches the corner of her eye.

To her left, standing by the Gate of Nald, is an adventurer staring out the huge portcullis. The adventurer (a gladiator, she guesses by his equipment) is a sun-kissed Miqo’te lad of few years, a mess of sandy, unkempt locks framing his boyish face, a rough messiness only rivalled by the rest of his shoddy armour, which to Elizabeth, was shocking to say the least. The worst offender was the boy’s shield, which was made from nailed wooden planks so rotten as to be unsuitable even for firewood!

Approaching the lad with an aura of pure indignation, the diminutive Lalafell slaps the boy’s shield. “You would defend others with that?!” she exclaims, the Miqo’te turning to peer at her with no small measure of surprise upon his face, his dull yellow eyes going wide. Elizabeth huffs before crossing her arms, furrowing her brows as she looks the boy up and down. “How much gil do you have, boy?” she adds, gesturing to his coin-purse.

Looking rather bashful, the Miqo'te lad clears his throat. “Not… much.” he says, his hand moving thoughtlessly to touch the pouch, it squishing quite flat indeed.

“Well… we can’t be having that...” Elizabeth murmurs, frowning harder, before suddenly clicking her fingers. As the Miqo’te watches in curiosity, the Lalafell drops her shoulder-bag onto the cobbled stone road. Flipping the bag open, she rummages through, taking out two plates of shining bronze and a small length of maple lumber, along with a small folding table with a vice attached. Pulling some tools from her belt, the Lalafell sets to work right there in the street, hammering and polishing the bronze into a greater sum than its parts.

In what feels like just a few scant moments, the small blacksmith presents the fruits of her labours to the Miqo’te; a Bronze Hoplon; high quality, of course. The adventurer stares down into the burnished steel, his face staring back with equal surprise in the reflection. “For… free?” he asks cautiously as he lowers the shield to look down at the woman.

Elizabeth nods, and the boy takes off his old shield, buckling the new one onto his arm as he tries the fit, finding it perfect for his size. With a wide grin, the Miqo’te thanks the smith again before going on his way, now slightly less likely to end up a monster’s lunch; and that was enough to make Elizabeth’s day.

~ Crafting a set of HQ gear for a new player is one of my top FFXIV memories!
Prize: Bluebird Earring

To the paladin we met at the Orbonne Monastery,

It takes a special audacity to insist to a throng of twenty-three other individuals that, despite having courted failure for the better part of an hour, they could still see victory. But you did so, and our bid to abandon the effort was voted down.

It was the Thunder God, of course. We\\'d all expected trouble from the rumors we\\'d heard, and they\\'d been no exaggeration. Some of us had broken and left, and who could blame them? Despite your thorough explanations, our progress was glacial, and even our best efforts were continually undone by the smallest of errors.

Our white mage bore the responsibility for many of them, a fact of which he and the entire alliance seemed to be aware. As he apologized once again and even offered to dismiss himself, I\\'ll never forget what you told him: "Just follow me and you\\'ll be fine." The difference was immediate. Shorn of the burden of uncertainty, he was suddenly capable of doing what he needed to. You bore the risk of failure for him. It was a preposterous thing to ask anyone to do, and you did it with forbearance. When he was targeted with Shadowblade, you saw him hesitate and ran ahead to show him the way. My companions and I laughed incredulously at that, and found ourselves in agreement: failure simply wasn\\'t an option at this juncture. How could any of us justify it, when you were working so hard to see us through?

When at last the skies parted, the air of triumph was palpable. There was little time to celebrate, given what still remained to be done, but as we made our way to the final chamber of the Monastery, it was heartening to see that almost everyone found the time to thank you.

Half a year has passed since then, and Orbonne\\'s reputation has lost much of its notoriety. As we face even greater challenges, I always endeavor to be the the voice of patience and determination that groups so often want for, a conviction some part of which I owe to your example.

Warm regards,
A nascent paladin

(If I\\'m selected, I\\'d like the Bluebird Earring.)

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

To the Girl That Tried Her Best

Dear Tataru,

I’m not one for words, in fact, most of my communications to you thus far has been naught but stoic nods. Truthfully, I am a shy, scared individual, who has stumbled on something far greater and demanding than I ever thought possible. All of Eorzea demands of me; my presence, my ability, and my willingness to fight to the bitter end. The world thinks of me as the “Warrior of Light”, a defender of the realm. They see me as a weapon, one meant to fight primals and any threat that comes to our shores. But they don’t understand the danger I put myself in, the fear that I face every time I take up my axe and fight. Any mistake I make would have grave consequences, not only to myself, but to all the land. Sometimes, I feel like a fraud.

So Tataru, I write this letter to you under the possibility of my demise. Pray, forgive me my melancholy, but the reality of a “Warrior of Light” is one of danger that could only end in tragedy. Before that comes to pass however, I wanted you to know the effect you have had on me. Of the fond memories that I share with you, and the memories that continually encourage me to fight.

The desk was too tall in the Waking Sands. You could barely peek your head over the books scattered on the desk. But when I approached, a stranger to the Scions, you welcomed me in. Amidst a team comprised of skilled disciples of war and magic, you were the receptionist. But you took to your job as dedicated as any Scion. We were fighting gods and monsters the average man could not even imagine, but still you stood by my side through it all.

You let not your position or background hold you back. When the Scions had moved to Mor Dhona and needed more funds, you picked up the pickaxe and tried yourself in the Disciple of the Land. Despite your best efforts, you were not successful. But still you tried. You even tried yourself in the Arcanist school of magic, and still met failure. I fondly remember your carbuncle ignoring your commands (do not worry, it happened to me too, but with Eos. Trying to command her to use Whispering Dawn instead of Embrace at critical times, can be quite difficult). What I remember most however, was your resolve.

Despite everything, you do not give up. You put the needs of others before your own and face every challenge head on. You are a sweet, small girl with the strength of courage and resolve more so than any Warrior I have ever known. All these memories I have of you, encourage me to keep fighting and remember just who I am fighting for. The scions, whom I now call friends, would be the lesser without you.

Pray, keep facing every challenge. Keep your head held high and keep trying. Because of you, Tataru Taru, I certainly shall.

Yours truly,

Lyall Sevus

(Gaelicap, it is super cute!)