Tales From Eorzea (NA)

An eerie stillness hangs in the air this season as ghouls, ghosts, and assorted other nasties come out in force in search of hapless adventurers to terrify. But rather than cower under your bed, why not laugh in the face of fear by rounding up your friends and sharing your spookiest stories? The FINAL FANTASY XIV Tales from Eorzea contest is here to facilitate just that!

To participate, write a spine-chilling original story set in Eorzea, and post it on the forums along with a screenshot of your character telling the tale to friends at a campfire. The Community Team will select the five best entries and award the winners with the Scarf of Wondrous Wit in-game item. Draw inspiration from the lore-rich realm of Eorzea, and pen a tale that will strike fear into the hearts of even the bravest adventurers!

Draw inspiration from the dark sources present in Eorzea and tell a tale that is sure to strike terror into even the bravest adventurers as they slumber in their beds!

Entry Period
October 18, 2012 12:01AM (PDT) through October 25, 2012 11:59PM (PDT)

Entry Method

• Take a screenshot of your character at a campfire somewhere in the wilds of Eorzea. Note that multiple screenshots may be posted in your entry to help tell your story (up to a maximum of 5).
• Write a spooky short story and post it in this thread along with your screenshot. Your story must be no longer than 700 words to qualify.

How to Take and Post Screenshots

Quote:

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• To take a screenshot, hold down the "Scroll Lock" key, and press the "Print Screen" key to take a screenshot. The image will be saved to My Documents → My Games → FINAL FANTASY XIV → screenshots
• Upload your campfire screenshot to your Lodestone blog or other image hosting website
  *For uploading images to Lodestone, please refer to the instructions listed here to learn about the upload process.
• Copy the URL for the uploaded picture.
  *This can be done by opening your image of choice in your Image List and then right-clicking and selecting "Copy Image Location." This process may differ depending on the browser you are using.
• Finally, when posting on the forum, use the [IMG] tag and place the URL between them:
  [IMG]http://lodestone.finalfantasyxiv.com/sample.jpg[/IMG]

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Prizes
Five Grand Prize Winners:

• One Scarf of Wondrous Wit

* Must have an active account to receive the Scarf of Wondrous Wit. This prize is an in-game item and has no monetary value

Results
Winners will be selected by the Community Team on or about October 26th and an announcement will be made on the forums.

Restrictions

• One entry per player. If multiple entries are posted, only the first post will be valid. (If you run into issues adding your entry to your first post, you'll be allowed to create a second post.)
• Posts cannot be edited while the event is ongoing.
• Do not edit the screenshots (cropping and editing out other player names is acceptable).
• This contest is limited to North America Square Enix Accounts only.

We ask that you please limit posts in this thread to entries only. Off-topic posts will be removed or moved to another thread on the forum.

SQUARE ENIX OWNERSHIP OF ENTRIES

All entries and other materials (the "Entry Materials") (including all copyright, trademark, and other proprietary rights associated therewith) submitted by you become the property of Square Enix upon submission, and Entry Materials will not be returned to any contestant. Without limiting the generality of the foregoing, you acknowledge that Square Enix will own all rights to use, modify, and make derivative works of the Entry Materials, without separate compensation to you or any other person or entity. You agree to take, at Square Enix's expense, any further action (including, without limitation, execution of affidavits and other documents) reasonably requested by Square Enix to effect, perfect, or confirm Square Enix's ownership rights as set forth above in this paragraph. Entry Materials may be used by contestants only for purposes of the Contest or for private, personal, non-public viewing. Entry materials received by Square Enix may be destroyed by Square Enix at any time following the Contest.

ORIGINAL WORK OF AUTHORSHIP

You hereby warrant and represent that (a) as between you and parties other than Square Enix, you own all rights to all Entry Materials submitted by you; and (b) other than the fact that all intellectual property embodied in and related to the FFXIV game, including all copyrighted works and trademarks and derivative works thereof, are the exclusive property of Square Enix, all such Entry Materials are original works of authorship on your part and have not been copied, in whole or in part, from any other work and do not violate, misappropriate, or infringe any copyright, trademark, or other proprietary right of any other person or entity.

Reiterating this one more time in case it is hidden in the OP, but this thread is reserved for contest entries ONLY. Thank you for your cooperation.

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Over the vast reaches of the continent of Eorzea, there loomed a gigantic red "moon" that brought forth panic and bedlam across the vast fields, deserts, mountains, and forests. Among the other strange occurrences, Atomos would occasionally visit different aetherytes and call forth otherworldly minions to bring the adventurers of Eorzea to their kness.

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There was, however, an occurance in Camp Revenant's Toll that was so unsettling that adventurers have deserted the area. There have been reports of adventurers of all races disappearing around Revenant's Toll and no trace left behind. A lone miner by the name of Antanias set out to investigate the aetheryte to pique his own curiosity about the rumor. Fearing he might become lost like the urban legend suggests, he rode his trusty bird Drumsticks to the scene in question to see what could be causing all of these disappearances.

Another Highlander wearing a tuxedo and a grey-haired miqo'te wearing glasses were also in the area, but Antanias decided to walk right past them towards the bright orange aetheryte...until Atomos appeared right overhead and started to drain its energy. There were several bright red flashes which caused the wandering miner to become dizzy and fall to the ground.

(4 hours later)

Antanias woke up near the camp to make sure he kept his wits about him and to double-check his surroundings. Things seemed ok...well, not for everyone that had been near the aetheryte at that moment. The tuxedo-wearing Highlander was nowhere to be found and the grey miqo'te was sobbing uncontrollably while attempting to look for him. Antanias walked up to the miqo'te and gave her a ball of yarn as he proceeded to return to the Amajina and Sons Mineral Concern to share his survival story with his fellow adventurers.

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Darkness settled throughout the Twelveswood as the moons rose up into the sky, the chattering of frogs and crickets began to fill the valleys. Two Lalafell, Trileyrel and Leanna, walked down a small valley. It seemed untraveled. At the end of the valley was a cave, seemingly inhabited by only bats. Tril looked at the cave, her face showing curiosity. Leanna looked over at her and said, “Tril, we need to head back, it's getting late.”

Tril looked back and said, “Let's just check it out, it won't take too long, I promise.” She then started heading towards it. Leanna then shrugged and followed her. “I wonder if anything, or perhaps anyone, is in here.”

“Part of me hopes we find something, and part of me hopes we don't... How much longer are we going to stay in here?”

“Not much longer, Leanna.” Immediately after she said that, a loud boom was heard. They look back, and see that part of the cave had collapsed, seemingly blocking their way out. Tril then said angrily, “Darn it... Maybe we'll find a way out on the other side of this cave...” Tril then turned around and started heading further into the cave. “Hey, Leanna, can you give me some light?”

A little flame appeared over Leanna's hand, giving a small bit of light. Tril smiled. “Thanks.”

Leanna nodded slightly to Tril, then heading forward along with her. They continued on for a few minutes, before hearing a loud screech. They jumped. Leanna then said, in a shaky and scared voice, “What was that?”

“I don't know.”

They heard it again, and then began to run. The flame Leanna had created then disappeared. They stopped after running about ten yalms. Leanna tried to create another flame, but no flame appeared. “Tril... Something's keeping me from casting.”

“Maybe a silencing spell... I think someone else is here.” They noticed up ahead of them was a torch. They walked towards it. When they got to it, Leanna pulled the torch off the wall.

“This should be useful.” She looked looked left of the path they were walking on, noticing some stairs. “Maybe that's an exit? Let's head up it.” She then started to walk up it, motioning for Tril to follow. The stairs led to what looked like an old dining room for a mansion. Up in the very front of the room, a skeleton was standing. Its arm was resting on a table, as if the person had died standing like that.

“Hey, Leanna, isn't this where that avalanche happened back a long time ago, perhaps shortly after the sixth Umbral Era?”

“I think so, Tril.” Leanna then looked toward the back of the room, noticing a door that seemed to lead out. “Hey, Tril, there's the way ou-” Her sentence was cut short shortly before a screech, similar to the one heard earlier, but louder, sounded, followed by purple beams swirling from the staff the skeleton held, heading towards the door, covering the door in a purple glow, sealing it.

Tril looked over at the skeleton, which looked as if it was laughing, and rushed towards it, swinging her ax towards its middle section, managing to hit it, splitting it in half. The staff it held dropped from his hand, falling down on the floor. A small gem fell out of the sphere on the tip, and cracked. Everything went silent for a few ticks, then what looked like a thousand souls started coming out of it, letting out a wail. The purple glow then disappeared from the door, and they headed back into the Twelveswood. It was morning. They looked around and smiled.

There was then a whisper,. “Run, Lalafell... Run for your lives...” The whisper was followed by a cackle. The sun then disappeared, and the area became dark. Soon skeletons began to rise from the ground, surrounding them both. They began to attack the skeletons. Several loud, repeated booms were heard. They looked up at a nearby mountain. An avalanche, was starting. They ran from the avalanche and skeletons. Everything was hit by the avalanche. They managed to make it back to Gridania, and then went to rest.

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Kyo warmed her icy cold hands by the campfire at Camp Brittlebark. Mor Dhona had never been a particularly hospitable place. Dalamud reigned over the skies, a common sight these days, bathing an eerie red light over the land. The only comfort she found in this place beyond the glow of the fire was that of the Aetheryte nearby. Almost as if the cool glow of the Aetheryte was trying to bring some semblance of peace and purity to this dying place.

The voices of those long passed echoed within Kyo’s heart. Visions of battle flashed through her mind, wars from long ago that she had never seen. The Echo had become a burden in recent weeks as Dalamud drew ever closer. It was as if all of Hydaelyn was screaming out against what seemed inevitable.

Remarkably, all of these things were the last thing Kyo was worried about right now. Throughout her travels she had begun to hear rumors of a creature appearing at the Aetheryte crystals. This creature would feed upon the crystal until it was replete and then flee, leaving terrible monsters from beyond the void in its wake before disappearing back into the void itself. Both friends and family alike had become victims of this creature, and for her it was all too personal now.

Kyo took another look at the stars and gauged the time to be close to midnight. She rose from her position at the campfire. She rubbed the dust from the ground between her hands; it would make her grip on the spear much firmer. She stood for another moment, taking the time to whisper a prayer under her breath for all of Eorzea.

All at once the aura around Camp Brittlebark seemed to change. As if all the heat of the world had gone, and Kyo felt as though she may never be happy again. She spun around to face her enemy, drawing her spear instinctively. Her eyes widened at the sight of the creature as it turned towards her.

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Kyo stood immersed in the light of the Aetheryte that spewed forth from its massive maw. The Aetheryte so pure and dense you could practically taste and smell it. This was the creature they called, Atomos.

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As Atomos drew breath, Kyo could see a glowing mist travel from the Aetheryte crystal into its mouth. She watched in horror as the cool blue glow changed to an ugly orange and she knew at once the crystal was dead. The creature moved towards her, and she stumbled and fell backward as it began to glow brightly. It was all she could muster to raise her spear in defense, a pathetic attempt to parry the inevitable blow. Suddenly it felt as if the world was exploding around her, tearing her body to shreds and at the same time assimilating all her hopes and dreams.

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Kyo awoke to the sounds of her own screaming, as she scrambled back away from the campfire. Sweat poured down her face, tears in her eyes as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. She struggled to make sense of the situation, and tried to slow her breathing and concentrate. It must have been the power of the Echo. But what was this that she had just seen? The Echo had only ever shown her what has come to pass; it was a window into the hearts and memories of others. Why then did it feel as though she had just witnessed what was still yet to come?

Kyo rubbed her eyes and rose to her feet. She shook her arms trying to cast the terrible feeling off of her bones. When her nerves finally began to calm, she turned to face the Aetheryte knowing now what the future could bring. The crystal was blue again, giving off its purifying glow. Kyo pondered for a moment that perhaps she had only been dreaming. With sweaty, shaking hands she drew her spear nervously.

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Kyo did not have to wait long before the creature Atomos appeared, turned towards her and began to consume the Aetheryte. Again she stumbled and fell backwards, as the creature moved towards her and began to glow…

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Lalafel Folklore - Midnight Light

once upon a time, the lesser moon was shrouded in a red veil. That night curious children got out of bed and ventured from their homes to find a better view of the oddity.

Like moths to a flame, they followed the red moons glow to they could come no close to the moon. As if in a trance, they would lift their right arms to try to catch the red orb in the sky. For so long they tried, the lanterns they had ceased to light their path. Greedily, they used the light of the Dalamud to light their laterns wit magic.

By doing so they were punished, their skin became a pale green, their eyes yellow and wide. The children became unable to speak for their mouths were forever closed. Their skin easily irritated by most fabrics they had to wear small hemp cowls.

The children could no longer be lalafels again, mistaken as monsters they were chased out of their homes. Thus retreating to underground where they lay dormant for the red moon to rise again. They are quite lonely and want company of others to keep them company...

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A young hyur named Chad was left alone in her mog house on several accounts as her parents worked late. Her parents bought her a moogle to keep her company.

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One night Chad was awoken by a constant dripping sound. She got up and went to the mog-kitchen to turn off the tap properly. As she was getting back into the mog-bed she stuck her hand under the mog-bed and the moogle licked it.

The dripping sound continued, so she went to the mog-bathroom and turned off the tap properly in there, too. She went back to her mog-bedroom and stuck her hand under the mog-bed, and the moogle licked it again. But the dripping continued, so she went outside and turned off the taps out there.

She came back to mog-bed, stuck her hand under it, and the moogle licked it again.

The dripping continued, drip, drip, drip.

This time Chad listened and located the source of the dripping — it was coming from her mog-cupboard. She opened the mog-cupboard door, and there was her moogle hanging upside down with its neck cut, and written on the mog-window on the inside of the mog-cupboard was, "MIQO'TE CAN LICK TOO!!!"

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Laughter permeated the chilled night air as the group gathered and nestled in near the campfire. As much as recent events overshadowed their lives, they could always rely on a gathering of Distant World Linkshell members to take the edge off.

“Now its Kat’s turn” announced Mini, his mischievous eyes glimmered like that of Dalamud itself.

“No No.. I’m sure someone else has something far more entertaining to share… Merikosum.. you go” she replied

“No Katella, I think it is your turn” chuckled Merikosum.

Katella fidgeted nervously, rolling a small section of visible necklace chain between her fingers as her face likened to the pale white hue of the now lesser moon. She dusted off her robe and stood over the campfire, surveying the group sitting around her.

“Alright… “ Katella said somberly as she shot Mini a sideways glance. Mini looked at his friend intrigued, there was something more serious about her demeanor.

“It was a few weeks back when I had been asked by the Twin Adder to do a survey of a nearby Aethergate …. at least that was what I had told Merik and Jynx when they offered to tag along. However, that wasn’t entirely the truth.” She cautiously looked up from the fire taking note of the perplexed looks on Merikosum and Jynx’s faces.

“In truth, I hadn’t been asked to do anything” she shook her head ruefully. Lasthold wasn’t even my goal, it was actually the Gelmorra Ruins…. The journey had been difficult with the constant dodging of creatures that inhabit the area, so it was easy to suggest a rest stop at the ruins… on the way Merikosum spoke of a tale he’d been told, of a treasure chest that was supposedly located just a bit further north near a waterfall, so their interest in checking this out worked in my favor. It would give me a chance to properly survey the ruins alone.” explained Katella.

“The native Gelmorrians had not only been responsible for the construction of the ruins, but also for Tam-Tara Deepcroft, Muy-Tuy Cellars and Toto-Rak”. Those who know history know that they were the ones who initialized the communication between the elementals and mankind in the first place. These ruins have been occasionally referred to as “The Summoning Circle” and it was after Merik and Jynx had pressed on farther and their voices dissipated with distance, that I witnessed something I will never forget.”

“A chill set in and the area became otherworldly silent. As if transfixed, I was drawn to climb the stairs up to the platform. As I did, there was a bright flash and suddenly I was surrounded by translucent people in cowls all chanting. The amberscale stones positioned around the platform’s ring began to glow until the hole in the center filled with some kind of mist. It cleared to reveal an image of massive destruction and I was shocked to recognize some familiar places.

Another bright flash left one translucent being standing before me. The being peered at me with an odd smile that was not conducive to the images they had just witnessed, before slowly extending their hand out towards me.”

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“The silence was shattered by Jynx who from a distance shouted to see if I was coming. The figure dropped something shiny on the ground and totally disappeared.”

“I retrieved the trinket, Azeyma the Warden’s silver emblem etched upon an amberscale stone emitting a subtle glow. Jynx’s voice getting closer, I decided I had better catch up with them.”

“Hahaha Katella.. you are funny.. had me going for a second.. we weren’t gone nearly long enough for that all to happen” laughed Jynx heartily..

“Ok, now its someone else's turn.. I’m going to get more wood for the fire…” Katella smiled sheepishly and left the campsite.

Mini quietly followed until they were out of earshot. “Kat?” he whispered…

“Yes?..” she replied.

His finger grazed her neck as he gently tugged at the chain she fidgeted with earlier. Fully revealed, it was adorned with the very trinket she had described in her story! Their eyes met for a brief moment. She smiled, tucked it back in her robe before picking up kindling.

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"I can still remember it to this day. The day my life nearly came to a sudden and screeching halt." I said softly looking around at my companions.

"What happened?" One asked.

I could see their curiosity piquing. "Fine, I'll tell you of it." I lean back casually, my arms holding the upper half of my body weight up. I can hear the crackling of the fire and decide to tell them my tale of horror and oddity.

Rain continually pounded against my body, chilling it to the bone, as I walked along the moonless path. Unable to tell night from day I tried to look up only to have the drops sting my eyes as they fell. Thunder rumbled in the distance. I stopped for a moment and counted to see how many yalms it was.

As I stood there, the sound of laughter reached my ears.

I turned my head in the direction the sound was coming from. Through the veil of rain, it was difficult to see anything. I shrugged my shoulders and continued my journey.

It couldn’t have been but half an hour later, when again, I heard the sound of something laughing. I look around again and squint. “I must be hearing things…” I said softly to myself. “This is a deserted path after all."

As soon as I said that, I remembered what someone had said to me earlier. It was a warning. I had just shrugged it off at the time. The old man at that camp was obviously not completely in his right mind when he spoke those words to me. He warned me of the disappearance of many Adventurers’ like myself. Ones who failed to heed his warning ones just like me. How it was nights like this when the evil came out of its hiding and devoured the souls of those who fool hearty enough not to listen.

I was about to start walking again when out of the corner of my eye, I saw the silhouette of a sheep standing next to me.

I smiled slightly. That warning and the rain was making me a little bit jumpy. “I can’t believe that this little thing almost spooked me.” I said bending down to pet the Karakul sheep on its head. As I was reaching my hand out, something happened. The sheep slowly began to dissolve right before my eyes.

I jerked my hand away quickly. What in the name of the twelve is going on? I thought to myself as I stared incomprehensively at the sight unfolding right before my eyes. The seeming cute sheep had turned into an agent of evil right before my eyes.

Wings as black as night sky slowly protruded from its back. Its eyes were gleaming as red as and as bright as fiery inferno that Ifrit himself slept in. The teeth long and casting their own ethereal glow. That thing looked at me for a moment and then started laughing. I had heard the very same laughter only moments before.

I backed up slowly my hand reaching for my precious wand. I try to speak the words of the spell but my voice only cracks and my thoughts are in a complete jumble.

It chose that moment to attack me.

I look at my companions, their eyes wide in horror.

“And that’s my story,” I say to them.

“What do you mean it’s not over yet! What happened to the thing that attacked you?” One of my companions asked.

I looked at him, “What happened indeed”

I feel my incisors begin to extend, as the beginnings of power flow into my wand, and I smile maniacally as I once again turn toward new prey...

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The Unknown.

The exact period is unknown. It is believed to be just after the formation of the Maelstrom a few years before the dawning of the Sixth Umbral Era. Many sought fortune and fame in those days and much like today, some people sought more power.

Power is not something to be taken lightly, especially when magic is involved. Many great thaumaturges have come and gone, but few as wicked or as powerful as Artinuex. So great was his thirst for knowledge, he withdrew from society, eventually ending up in the dark recesses of Cassiopeia Hollow. There he stayed for several years perfecting his dark arts in seclusion. But the solitude had an unexpected side effect for Artinuex, he lost touch with his sanity. Day by day his spells grew darker and darker, even his scepter began to slowly warp into something hellish. Many explorers entered that hollow, but nary a person ever came out. So many people were lost to the cave that eventually leves were issued to investigate the happenings in the hollow. Word of Cassiopeia Hollow had spread throughout Eorzea and adventurers flocked to Limsa Lominsa. Many highborn and heroes of merit were lost to the cave including Archibald Aegis, Lester the brutal, Margot Mhigo and most notably Roan Aldenard. Many adventurers filed into the cavern to make a name for themselves but served only as fodder for the thaumaturge's undead army, which grew with every new visitor.

Little is known about the soldier who finally managed to kill Artinuex. Based on the account of a witness who entered the hollow shortly after the unknown soldier descended, the lone man made his way through hundreds of undead swordsmen. Always laughing, as if he wanted to kill... as if he loved the challenge. Cleaving his way through what appeared to be a wall of rotting flesh, which seemed to be bound together only by the Artinuex's dark magic. The soldier did not stop, not once did his axe fail to connect with fetid meat! When he finally made his way to Artinuex, the soldier, now drenched in red, just stopped dead in his tracks -- as if under a spell. Artinuex was clenching his scepter and muttering something under his breath. It did not last long though, the soldier snapped back to his senses and charged at Artinuex! It was over. With one swing the thaumaturge was dead.

What happened next was curious. The soldier bent over and retrieved Artinuex's scepter and it was at that very instant that our hero fell over! The witness ran down the the battlefield as fast as he could but the soldier was already dead. Just another blood splattered corpse, hardly even distinguishable from the piles surrounding him.

No one knows exactly what happened after that, but it is said that if you ever find yourself in Cassiopeia Hollow the unknown soldier is still there, still looking for a good fight. Still grasping that cursed scepter. They say he will never be rid of it. No matter how many times it is pried from his ghostly remains.


Even today there are still reports of skeletal remains attacking adventurers. This is a true testament to how powerful Artinuex had become. Almost 1500 years later the dead still walk the bowels of Cassiopeia Hollow.

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Let me tell you a story about my old adventuring friend, Groffi. He was the kind sort – always willing to lend a helping hand, always friendly and charming. He was a miner by trade, though took more pleasure supplying the world with iron from La Noscea than the more profitable darksteel of Coerthas. “Darksteel is durable, but there is no substitute for the reliable La Noscean iron!” he’d say.

One evening as he was passing through Bloodshore he happened upon a Burble – that’s what they call the Snurbles in those parts, anyhow. The Burble, light as a feather, bounced high over Groffi’s midlander head with a happy chortle and cast its little protection spells on him. What a happy sight he was! Grateful of this added assurance to his survival on the way home, Groffi thanked the Burble with a bow and continued south to Limsa Lominsa.

He had not long passed Cedarwood when he was shocked to find the same Burble at his feet! Now, any adventurer with his salt knows that critters and monsters alike seldom stray far from their homes, even if giving chase. But there it was, fluffing about my friend in jolly circles. Groffi gently urged it to return to its home lest another adventurer slay it for its tufts.

In the La Noscean twilight, as he crossed the Procession of Terns into Limsa, he once more crossed paths with the Burble. Seeing this as a sign of its devotion to him, he brought it home, cuddling to sleep with it in his bed.
The next day I met him at the Drowning Wench to share both drinks and adventuring stories, and he told me of the wayward Burble that followed him home. He seemed overjoyed that such a rare creature would willingly become his pet, and asked me if I knew anything about raising Snurbles. Though I told him I did not, he still offered to introduce me to his fuzzy little friend. So we paid the barkeep and made for his home at the northern islands.

When we arrived, he flung open the door and cheerfully called into the quiet room. He then knelt abruptly and reached out his hand, as if stroking the air. “Here he is! Feel how soft his fur is! It’s no wonder they make such comfortable clothing with these little guys.”

Confused, I observed his vacant hand, and then cast my gaze about the empty room. “Is this a joke? I see nothing,” I chuckled. I knew he couldn’t hold his ale, but I never thought he’d be given to hallucination. Yet still he insisted the Burble was there, and even began to grow angry and defensive before finally throwing me out! I lost touch with him for several days after that. I assumed he wanted me gone for insulting his imaginary Burble pet.

I worried about Groffi until over a week later, when he called me back to his home. “It’s still there,” he said, his face pale. When I confessed my failure to understand, he related to me the details of his past several days:

The Burble refused to leave him alone after I’d left. He’d asked others if they could see it, and though they all answered in the negative he could still feel it snuggling up next to him. It would not let him sleep nor eat, and bounced about as if laughing at his misery! On the fourth day, as he was trying his best to mine in spite of fatigue, he could stand its fluffy taunts no longer, and brought his pickaxe down hard upon its head. It collapsed, dead on the La Noscean grass.
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Thinking himself free, he hurried home to his bed and dreamed of rolling in Snurble Tufts and wearing the finest felt! And when he opened his eyes…the Burble stared back into them, its body nestled softly on his chest... Thereafter he locked himself away.

He begged me in earnest to find a solution, so I quickly flew to Gridania to consult the Conjurers… but I was too late. Groffi was last seen fleeing an invisible foe before casting himself into the sea, where he died.

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By the Primals... I'm pregnant. I wonder who did it? *eerie spookiness and suspense ensues*

The Mercenary’s Path

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Our story begins one lonely night as Roubian Zamark looks onward into the flames, trying to remember what he fights for, why he continues to risk his life on a dream that was his brother Attros's dream in the first place. Looking back he knew why he was still a mercenary, he was doing it for his dead brother. Ever since the day his older brother died Roubian knew that he would get revenge on the monster that killed his brother. Staring into the flames Roubian started remembering that awful day 10 years ago.

Brother why are we taking this mission the man is hardly paying us anything? Attros turned and looked into Roubian's eyes. It isn’t about how much we are getting paid we are doing this to show that we are the best and the best never say no to any mission. Attros placed his hand on Roubian’s shoulder and gave him a smile. Now let’s get going I can’t slay this monster without your help.

Roubian smiled at his older brother and nodded. Onward said Attros to the Black Forest of the Forgotten Land. Roubian and his brother set off to their destination as they got closer the Forest grew thicker and thicker. Brother are we almost there I’m getting tired tugging on his brothers arm? Almost Roubian we are nearly there just be patience.

They continued walking for a bit longer when all of a sudden Attros shouted get down! With a quick flash Roubian was pushed onto the ground by his brother his brother’s sword drawn and holding something back. As Roubian backed away he got a clear picture of the monster that was attacking his brother. It was a pixie with a gold glowing orb in its chest. Is this what we are after brother said Roubian franticly? Yes but don’t let its appearance fool you they are stronger than they look. Attros successfully parried the pixie and tried to counter but the pixie was faster than he was and dodged the attack. Attros was back on the defensive trying to parry and strike but it wasn’t working.

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Roubian get out of here said his brother run and don’t stop get back to town and tell the villagers what is going on. The pixie quickly looked at Roubian and said these words, your soul will be mine and you will forever walk the earth with a savory thirst for blood. The pixie quickly pulled out its wand and flung a ball of light at Roubian. Attros jumped in front of the spell shielding Roubian from the light. Attros dropped to his knees and turned his head to look at Roubian. Roubian was looking at his brother in shock his skin was melting off his face! With Attros's last breath he managed to mutter one word…run.

Roubian set up in a cold sweat he had fallen asleep in front of the fire. Roubian stood up and grabbed his axe and started heading toward the Black Forest of the Forgotten Land. Tonight Roubian was going to kill the monster that had killed his brother. Roubian approached the area where the fight took place many years ago.

Roubian looked around but saw nothing, but felt a cold presence somewhere around him. Show yourself said Roubian drastically looking around! The boy from 10 years ago has returned said a dark figure. As Roubian looked closer he saw the pixie with the gold orb in his chest from 10 years ago. Where is my brother you monster said Roubian?

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The pixie laughed and said he is my mine and does what I want him to do Said the pixie, now finish him off my slave! Roubian turned around just in time to dodge a swing sword. Roubian stopped and recognized the sword. Roubian looked at the now skinless figure standing in front of him and said brother? The skeleton raised his sword and said Rou…Roubian, thrusting it into Roubian’s chest. Roubian stared lifelessly into the skeleton’s eyes, as Roubian fell to the ground the last thing Roubian heard was the sound of the pixie laughing.

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:eek:Happy Halloween!:eek:

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This is a true story. It happened to me when I was very small, yet still very brave. I was attending a harvest celebration in Gridania. I started to feel very alone and distant from the rest of the crowd. I decided I would wander to the outer edge of town to get some quiet time, and some fresh air.

I eventually found myself at the edge of the bridge past White Wolf Gate, and at the mouth of the Twelveswood. It was peaceful, and the sounds of nature were calming. This was one of the most perfect nights weather-wise I could remember. The air was surprisingly warm for late autumn. There was no moon out, and if it wasn’t for all the trees above, you could see the stars for miles.

Even here though, I wasn’t satisfied with being alone. I wanted more. I could still see the lights from Gridania behind me, and I could still hear faint music and cheers from the crowd. I wanted to get away from town completely. I wanted silience – but more importantly I wanted to find a clearing among the trees to catch a real glimpse of the night sky. I took off wandering down the road, following the lanterns that someone had been lighting. I figured they would lead me to a nearby camp, or at the very least I could always follow them back to town.

Now, I came from Limsa Lominsa. I knew nothing of the tales of spirits or woods or the dangers of the Black Shroud. Back home I’ve heard tales of ships being lost at sea, or great tentically beasts dragging unattended children into their icy cold depths – but this were dry land I was on. There would be no possible danger walking alone on such a night.

I continued to walk for what seemed like a good hour, and I began to grow tired. I debated if it would be easier to just turn back, as I would have to eventually, even if I did make it to camp.

I turned around, but upon doing so, I noticed a thicker wall of fog had grown behind me. I stopped and stared into the fog. I couldn’t make out much in the darkness, but I could swear I saw some glowing red eyes peering at me from behind it. I could hear whispers coming from the fog, and I heard my name among them. There was something very angry and disturbed about this fog.

I decided to walk a bit faster and continue toward camp, but every time I turned around, the fog seemed to be closer. I did not like this. Soon I found myself running in a panic. My only thoughts at that point were not about the stars, or the party. My only thoughts were to hurry to the camp and out of the darkness.

…but I never made it.

The last thing I remember was running in a panic and screaming as the fog overran me. A thousand whispers filled my head as I felt hands grabbing at me and pulling at me – pulling me into the fog.




I awoke the next morning in the camp at Crimson Bark. Nobody would tell me how I had gotten there, but I was warned to never go out at night again – especially not this time of year. I had asked what had happened. I was told that I had tainted the woods and what I experienced was the spirits of the woods’ anger for it. I could not get any more answers, only warnings – as if what had happened was forbidden to speak of.

Ever since that day I’ve felt like a part of me was missing. The woods had taken something form me that night – some part of my soul now belonged to them if you believe in such things. Somewhere deep down inside, I fear when the gates of death to come calling for me, it will not be a paradise that awaits, but rather I will be called into the Twelveswood to spend my eternity – to serve them, and to answer for my trespassing.

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I was a boy when first I heard the story. A roegadyn.
A clumsy goofball that came from an island of fisherman. Who sailed the seas only because his father was captain. Wish I could say he was a mighty pirate. His appetite was pretty mighty though lol. Grak stood the tallest, belched the loudest, but spoke the softest. Amongst the roeagadyn, Grak Malduke was a joke. Funny how a joke can turn into something more...


One day while out at sea, a storm shielded by fog came from nowhere. This was no ordinary storm!


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In a matter of moments the ship was crawling with monsters! The captain yelled "Battlestations!" and the crew took up arms to fend off the invaders. While Graks father and fellow townsmen fought for their lives, Grak lay hidden in an empty barrel, cowering in fear. Poor Grak was no fighter. He lacked courage. His mother once told him he's so huge, because, a normal size wouldn't be fitting of one with a heart so big.

When the sounds of ripping flesh and cries of men died away, Grak had not the will to come out. 1 day passed. 2 days, 3,4,5, a week passed. For a week he lay there wimpering, dreading the sight of the bloody scene. When the hunger was unbearable, he crept out of the barrel. However, he wasn't on his father's ship.

Dazed and confused, he stumbled a few steps when Roeagadyn began emerging from the forest. He was on an island! He began to recognize their faces, only to find mostly everyone from the ship alive and well! Of course they teased him, called him a coward and had their fun. The crew emerged victorious! Everyone knew how Grak was, a useless big coward, but a kindhearted and honest fool he was. They had just come back from a search for food, and they told Grak everything.

After the fight, the storm blew the ship into uncharted territory. Grak was so out of it.
Whilst fear and hunger gripped him he hadn't noticed they moved the barrel after the battle. The ship had just landed at the island not long ago, and the men had just come back from a hunt. What little food was caught, was split sparingly among them. Grak was starving! Among everyone else, there was very little for him to eat. It was the most delicious meat Grak had ever eaten! "Dodo tenderloin!" he said, then yelled "This is the best meal ever!" In that instant an arrow came flying from the forest and pierced his father in between the eyes.

More arrows started to pour onto them! A herd of angry dodo flurried out the forest and launched an attack! It was surreal for Grak! He had little energy, after fasting for seven days how could he? Grak didn't want to let his father and friends down again. He was filled with anger and bravery, confusion and disbelief. A dodo came bulleting toward him, barely able to dodge its blitz he had only the strength to bite it in the leg..


And when he did, a transformation began.. he chew on the bloody hunk of flesh regaining his energy, savoring every drop and loving every ounce of it. The once full roegadyn that teetered down to a fraction of his size, was still large compared to those of his comrades. Graks eyes turned to those of a madman, overcome with an insatiable thirst and overwhelming need to feed. Dodos charged one after the other but fell quickly to Graks rage. Witnessing his townspeople around him dying only made worse Graks carniverous rampage. He tore through flesh, crazed, he was an unstoppable force on the battlefield. There were so many of them. Everyone else from his crew already lay perished, but Grak still fought, and ate, at what seemed like an endless horde of dodo. The earth stained red with blood, synched perfectly with the red moon in the sky. Time passes..


When Grak awoke, he was back in the barrel. Grak was so confused, it was like he had a horrible nightmare and never even left the barrel. He hadn't even noticed his hunger was gone. He crept out not knowing what to expect.

What lay before him was everything he feared, only worse. What he found wasn't the ship full of monsters. Or the endless horde of dodo.



His appearance changed, with tears in his eyes he looked at the sky and yelled..


"THAT WAS THE BEST MEAL EVER!"
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"We're so close, why are we stopping here?" The young Miqo'te glared at her companion, an Elezen adventurer she had begun following days ago, hoping to see some excitement. So far, all she had seen were rocks.

"Surely you've heard of the Sands of Ul'dah."

The Miqo'te picked a handful of coarse sand off the ground. "The city is in the middle of a desert, of course there's sand."

The Elezen leaned toward the fire. Frustrated, the Miqo'te began packing. She had come so far from home and was this close to the richest city in Eorzea. If this man wouldn't even let her get near it, she'd find someone else to follow.
"Perhaps you’ve heard about the coliseum.”

She scowled at him, shoving her things into the pack. If she hurried, she could get into the city before nightfall.

"It's what calls most people to the city. The chance to show their strength, win riches, become famous. The truth, though, is that more people meet their end there than find new beginnings."

The Elezen paused to rub the scar on his arm. The Miqo'te caught herself staring. Would she finally hear something of this man's experiences?

"What most people don't know is that Ul'dah was built around the coliseum. Its circular design mimics the arena floor. That city has violence at its core, far deeper than gold." He stopped and took a swallow of water. The Miqo'te was sure there was more and did her best to keep herself quiet.

Eventually the Elezen turned to her, obviously surprised that she possessed such patience. The Miqo'te growled at him, but he raised a hand for peace and continued. "These days, those who lose are carried off to the priests, and their blood is swept under the sands. In the early days, though, the sand covered more than just blood. In those days, fights always ended in death, and the bodies were left where they fell. The sands scoured them from existence. It was like that for decades, before the wealthy made the city their home. But those bodies are still entombed under the walls and streets of Ul'dah."

"Still, it's no reason to avoid a bed and a full meal.” The Miqo'te shivered. “Those old bones can’t reach up and get you." She turned to the skyline in the distance, feeling colder than she should have.

"Not until the priests moved in."

The Miqo'te turned her head back toward the Elezen, her ears laid back and hackles raised.

"The priests say they came because of what was happening, but everybody knows that nothing strange occured until after they started practicing their rituals in the city."

"What... kind of strange things?"

"When the Nald'Thal rituals begin, a red fog rises. Their death magic escapes the monastery and the blood soaked sand foundation of Ul’dah fills the air. Those trapped inside hear weapons clashing. Those who breathe it in become possessed by ancient souls raging to redeem their arena losses. Some run off, others go into a frenzy. But the strangest thing is that the sands don't harm the weak. The sands take only those who are strong and able to fight. And," he said, pointing at the giant red moon, "that won’t make things any better."

The Elezen trailed off. The Miqo'te, pale and shivering, brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms and tail tightly around herself. A sudden movement at the edge of the fire caught her attention, and she shrieked, startling her companion back to himself.

"It doesn't happen every night, of course. Only the priests know what dark schedules they keep. You might be fine. You're able enough, sure, but you don't have the experience the spirits want. Me, though...

“Get some sleep; we'll go in with the sun when there isn't as much danger."

The Elezen laid back and shut his eyes. The Miqo'te girl, her terror not at all abated, pulled a blanket from her pack and sat closer to the fire. As the sun sank below the horizon, she knew there would be no chance of a bed or a meal this night. There would be little enough chance for sleep.

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I was but a young adventurer at the time, working hard to gather as many cotton bolls and moko grass for experience. Yes, I was an unskilled weaver, barley making enough gil to survive. Sure, I had woven my fair share of hempen shirts and trousers, but I was still nothing compared to most of my peers. My tiny Dunesfolk fingers made it hard for me to finish the many requests I was assigned at Sunsilk Tapestries. I had to earn a living somehow; Ul’dah is not kind to the poor. One day, after failing yet another assignment, Deaustie, my employer, told me that the guild master was fed up with my indecencies, and commanded me to find work elsewhere in the realm. I was heartbroken. This was my first and only job, and I couldn’t afford to be unemployed in Ul’dah. There are so few jobs to begin with; how did I manage to screw up mine?! I left the guild in shame that day; my fellow weavers were snickering and laughing at me as I walked out the door. I couldn’t stop crying on my way back to the windowless apartment I called home. “I will just find another job”, I kept repeating to myself in a whisper. I stopped for a moment to remember what my rent collector, Airam Rhamide, said to me earlier this morning, he said, “Don’t you bother coming back to this here dump unless you got the gil you owe me, understand boy?”. He is a mean Roegadyn who sports an awful odor wherever he travels. Without the pay from today’s commissions I would not be able to go back home. I knew I wasn’t going to find another job; I only knew how to weave, if that. My mother taught me the art of cloth before she passed away. She always told me that my good looks wouldn’t take me far in Ul’dah. You see, my father was a moogle. Don’t ask me how I was conceived; I am not quite sure myself how a moogle could fancy a Dunesfolk. Well, I knew exactly the thing to cheer me up, so I decided to enjoy myself. The day was almost over, and the night sky looked so beautiful. The Ul’dahn lamps appeared stunning amidst the darkness. My footsteps echoed as I walked throughout the inner part of the capital. I felt so lonely. I reached the Wellhead Lift near the Ruby Road Exchange and waited patiently for the doors to open. There was no one around. I rode up to the 3rd floor to watch the airships; I could watch those airships come in and take off all day. Ever since I was little I have always wanted to ride one, but my mom and I never had enough gil. The Lift’s doors opened and I was inside my sanctuary, the airship landing. Stangyth, the departure attendant, greeted me with a smile as usual. She knows, by the rags draped around me, that I am of the lower class; yet she always smiles. She is a nice lady. I inquired from her as to when the next airship would be landing. She said, “I am sorry honey, but the last one just took off about a minute ago. There will be more tomorrow sweetie; have a good night”. She and the rest of the 3rd floor workers then got on the Lift and went home. All I could do was stand by the departure counter and sigh. I just wanted some part of the day to be good. Where would I sleep tonight? How will I buy breakfast in the morning? Where will my new home be? What will my new job be? Will I find a new job? My mind couldn’t give me answers to all of the questions, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I couldn’t breathe. I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I fell to the floor and started crying. I couldn’t help myself. As tear after tear hit the ground I felt worse and worse. I had to have been sobbing for at least ten minutes when, all of the sudden, every lamp on the 3rd floor went out. I stopped crying and rose up from the floor. “Hello?” I shouted. There was no one there. I felt cold, and the pain in my chest was gone. I couldn’t see anything but the stars; the room was pitch black. The Wellhead Lift was only a couple of paces from where I was standing. I just had to turn around and walk. As I turned, in what I thought was the direction of the Lift, I stopped. I heard something coming. I looked towards the landing strip and saw a bright light appear. I was blinded momentarily. As my eyes adjusted to the light I saw an airship. My heart skipped a beat. I was overjoyed, but puzzled. Why would an airship be coming in well after closing time? I looked closely at the airship; it was a deep blue color with gold trim and royal designs embedded throughout its mass. I met eyes with the conductor. He was a Highlander Hyur with a big smile on his face. The conductor, still looking right at me, said, “Are you getting on?” I felt like a child in a candy store. I opened the departure gate slowly and nodded. My mouth was paralyzed from the excitement. As I made my way to the stairs of the ship I felt a little guilty for not paying for the ride, but I dismissed those thoughts within a second. The conductor politely smiled at me while I boarded his vessel. I could not believe what was happening. This would be my first airship adventure! I didn’t even know where I was going, but I didn’t care. I was too excited to care. While the ship was taking off I gazed over the railing. Everything looked so beautiful from above. I was so absorbed in the moment that I didn’t even notice the passengers. The first to introduce himself was Gaia Gallerou Galaelee, and Wildwood Elezen man. He was a famous bard heralded for singing tales of his adventures to noble families of Eorzea. Everyone who was someone knew who this man was. The second passenger was Ms. Mary Monial Magrab. She was an old Hyur woman who wore the finest robes bought from none other than the Sunsilk Tapestries in Ul’dah. I recognized her instantly. She was a frequent visitor to the guild. The third and last person introduced to me was the captain himself. He was a very tall highlander man wearing a full set of buccaneer’s gear. He had a deep voice and spoke cheerfully. He wouldn’t tell me his name; he requested that all of his passengers address him as captain. After greeting everyone, and introducing myself, I resumed looking over the railing of the ship and towards the ground below. I saw animals, people, and camps. I felt like I could see the whole world from this airship. The ride was making me forget about Ul’dah and my troubles. My mind was almost entirely at peace. However, I wondered why the ship arrived in the manner it did, and why these people were on it. Something didn’t seem right, so I asked, “Where is this ship headed?” All three of my companions stared at me with a confused look. I became anxious when they didn’t immediately respond. Finally, Gaia said to me, “We are going to Thal.” I could feel my heart beating. “What do you mean?” I responded quickly. Ms Magrab then said, “We are dead, the captain is taking to us to Thal.” I couldn’t understand what was happening. Thal is the overseer of the underworld. If these people were dead then I must be dead too. No, that can’t be. I was just on the 3rd floor talking to Stangyth; now I’m dead? This can’t be happening. My heart was beating faster now. The captain turned around from navigating and said, “We are almost to Thal! Everyone get ready for departure!” I exclaimed, “Is this some kind of joke?!” Ms. Magrab responded, “No joke child. This is an airship of Thal. The captain is taking us too him.” I felt like crying, but no tears would appear from my eyes. This black mist started forming all around the ship. I thought my heart was about to come out of my chest. When did I die?! Why did I get on this airship?! Why couldn’t I have just stayed put and declined the captain’s offer?! Maybe if I can get off of this ship I will wake up. This has to be a horrible dream, it has to be. I grabbed onto the railing of the ship and started climbing. I am not dying today! Gaia grabbed me and I fought back. My little Dunesfolk body was no challenge for his Elezen arms. He grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. Gaia said, “It’s your time as well. Don’t leave Ms. Magrab and I, we are all dead and there is nothing any of us can do about it.” All I could do was squirm, but I couldn’t get out of his embrace. I kept saying, “No! Let me go! I can’t be dead!” The captain yelled over my screams, “Goodbye!” I flailed against Gaia one last time before everything disappeared. I was in darkness. I couldn’t feel anything, no emotions, no pain. Suddenly, a dark figure appeared before me. I knew who it was, and the figure knew who I was. We stood before each other gazing at one another. I could not fully describe Thal to you; I don’t remember what he looks like. He extended his hand toward me, as if inviting me to dance with him. I accepted his offer. There was nowhere for me to go unless it was with him. I could not feel his hand against mine. I felt nothing. I didn’t know where the captain, Ms. Magrab, or Gaia was; but I hoped they were ok. It wasn’t a moment after Thal caressed my hand that he let go of me. I looked at his shadowy face as he began to fade. I said to him, “Have I done something wrong?” I received no response. Shockingly, I started to feel all kinds of emotions rushing through my body. Something was wrong. I tried to grab onto Thal, but walked right through him. I screamed, “Don’t leave me!” Thal had almost completely disappeared when I heard Gaia’s voice, “We’ll meet again Garnet Sidus.” I looked up at Thal, but was puzzled. He was gone, and a new figure was standing in his place. This figure looked just like Thal, but was slightly different. He extended his hand toward me, and I accepted the offer just like before. As our hands touched I shut my eyes. This time I could feel the shadowy figure’s palm against mine. His hand was warm and comforting. I felt something soothing while my eyes were closed, and as I reopened them I saw someone standing over me. I was lying on the ground and they were using magic to cure me. I could hardly see anything because of all the light their healing spells were giving off. They saw me awaken and said, “Your soul almost slipped away from me, praise Nald!” I was back on the 3rd floor in Ul’dah! I then realized that it was Nald who replaced Thal in that dark place. Before I could get off of the ground, the healer came over and hugged me. It was Anthoinette from the Milvaneth Sacrarium, Nald’s Temple in Ul’dah. I hugged her tighter than Gaia held me on the airship. Anthoinette said, “You must have had a really bad panic attack. Nald sent me a vision about you. He told me it wasn’t your time.” I started to cry again, but this time it was tears of joy.

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Good evening.

Tonight I shall bring you a tale from the lost lore of the Scarlet Order. A tale of the fall... and rise... of a great evil.

The Scarlet Order itself, may or may not have truly existed. Yet, it is said, they were a secretive society of mages. Hidden away in their underground fortress, somewhere beneath the desolate sands of Thanalan, they practiced their art, ever in search of greater power.

So it was that within the library of the Order, one mage learned of the Tome of Harnessing Power. A tome filled with forbidden arcane knowledge that would bring kings to their knees, and fear to the hearts of all men.

He struck out from the fortress, setting the library aflame behind him. None must learn that which he sought, lest they find it first.

He traveled the length and breadth of the land, slaying all who stood between him and anything he believed could lead him to his goal. Whole cities would empty at the word of his coming, to return when the mage had found what meager clues he could find therein and moved on.

At last he learned of a black crystal tower, at the pinnacle of which was sealed the Tome.

An order of knights dwelt in the tower, each sworn to defend the Tome with his life.

The knights heard of the mage's impending arrival, and mustered to meet him in force at the base of the tower.

The mage cast a single mighty spell, lashing out at their minds. Fully half were slain on the spot. The minds of the others were twisted, so that they could not tell friend from foe.

The knights fell upon each other, until only one remained. The spell's effect faded, leaving only the mage, cackling gleefully.

As the mage raised his staff, the knight pleaded. "No," he said, "you must not enter! That which is within must not be unleashed upon the world!"

The mage paused for only a moment, before smiting the knight's head with his skull-capped staff. The knight fell as if poleaxed.

At last, he entered the tower. Nothing dared stand before him as he climbed the stairs to the pinnacle, and smote down the mighty iron doors of the sealed chamber. There, bathed in a single beam of light from above, was the tome. He grinned greedily as he strode forth and took hold of its leather cover, and opened it.

In an instant, he realized the horrors it contained.

It is said that his mind snapped in that moment, and that he seized the tome and threw himself from the top of the tower, perishing in the fall.

Even so, without its guardians, it was only a matter of time until another man found the tome, and the knowledge within swept the land.

For you see, the information in the Scarlet Order's library had been... somewhat twisted, over time. The tome was not the Tome of Harnessing Power. It was, in fact, a tome called "Harness Power". It described, in great detail, the process of creating subligaria.

So, one can only ask oneself... which was the greater evil? That which the mage sought.... or that which he found?

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As the sky grew dim, Kahona and her friends gathered around the warm fire that had been lit to fend off darkness and cold. The crackling of the hearty fire filled the air around the otherwise silent camp. It had been a tiring day for all who sat around the fire. The beasts that roamed the sands of Thanalan had grown restless and temperamental of late. As night continued to fall, the group began to chat back and forth amongst each other, swapping stories and tall tales amongst themselves.

“Have you heard any good stories?” Kahona’s friend Talia asked as she settled in by the fire.

Kahona was about to say no but stopped herself as she gazed upon the flickering column of flame dancing between them, “Actually… yes.”

Several others who had tagged along on their monster hunt drew closer, Kahona generally didn’t say much during monster hunts and for her to have a story to tell… well… it was an event unto itself. Soon the small campfire was lined with eager listeners.

“There is a tale among the Amalj'aa that speaks of a being born of the primal fires of creation, a beast twice again the size of the largest among the races of Eorzea. The creature is said to have horns that are sharper than any blade that could be forged, and hide tougher than any shield. It wrecks of sulfur and ash, breathing fumes from its massive maw much like a volcano set to burst,” Kahona began in a soft voice, forcing those around her to lean close and listen hard.

“The Amalj’aa speak of this creature with reverence and hold ceremonies to venerate it. They name him Ifrit, and proclaim that he is the one who blessed the Amalj’aa with the spark of knowledge. The Amalj’aa love their creator god, and believe wholeheartedly that he will bring to them an era of prosperity…”

Kahona leaned closer to the fire, “Those of us who hold the Twelve dear know him by another name… We call him the Lord of the Inferno. His realm in the seven hells is hotter than the deserts of Thanalan, a place where nothing but the most foul of evil creatures could survive. And unlike some of the creatures from myth and legend… Ifrit now walks to lands among us.”

Several muffled gasps issued forth from the gathered listeners, the shock of such a revelation disturbing to almost all who gathered about the fire. Kahona stood and began to recount for them an encounter she herself had been host to.

“I know this to be true because I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. The creature called Ifrit has been pulled from the depths of the seven hells and is loose upon the barren wastes of Thanalan. It prowls the wastes in search of those who have done his favored children wrong. It hunts them down like animals, caring nothing for hunger, thirst, and sleep. It assaults them with fire and smoke and ash, bombards them with molten rock and searing air…”

Kahona paused for a moment to let the images sink in before continuing, “Ifrit does all this because that is what it was born to do. It is a being full of hatred for the children of the Twelve, for all the wrongs they have done to the beastmen of the desert lands. It rends flesh and breaks bone in pursuit of revenge, all under a crimson sky.”

Kahona’s eyes drifted upward toward the heavens, her eyes drifting to Dalamud as it hung ominously in the sky casting crimson rays in all the directions that it could. The eyes of those gathered around the fire began to drift upward as well, the gravity of the Miqo’te’s story starting to sink fully into their minds.

“It was a night just like this when I saw the monster for myself… a place lit by fire much like our own…”

Using a bit of black magic, Kahona bid the flames before her to expand, sending most of the people gathered around backward or to their feet. All Kahona could do is laugh before sure turned around and saw eyes looking over her…

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We entered into a cave somewhat south and to the east of Camp Broken Water. Inside stood a purple aetheryte which we were unaware to which it led. We faced many hardships as a group, but always conquered them victoriously, and thought that this would be just another chapter in our story. We thought wrong. Once entered through the aetheryte, we were thrown into a hell-like abyss. Inside stood Ifrit, although unlike before, something felt... different. We prepared ourselves as best we could and charged at the massive beast. I provoked him towards me, and then ran to a point of charred earth near the ring of fire which surrounded us. As we attacked Ifrit, he ripped and ravaged with his menacing claws. He began to cast massive eruptions that tore the land beneath asunder, spawned plumes of molten fire, and when he dashed, surrounding him was a crimson cyclone that would burn your flesh from your body after which he would choose a person at random to chase down and attempt to spew fire that would sear you and any unlucky enough to stand beside you.

We were unaware that his two horns controlled the strength of his great abilities. Once realized, we launched all of our skills at his head until we finally brought them down. After whaling on Ifrit for some short time, he spawned from the ground four infernal nails at the center of the room. It felt much too soon for him to be calling upon these nails so early, but we had seen this before when we faced him long ago. While I held Ifrit in place, my brethren tore down the nails while dodging incoming eruptions. Soon after the nails were taken down, we did everything we could to ready ourselves for what came next. He jumped to the middle of the room and then called upon his most fearsome power that felt as though the flames of hell itself were put upon us, Hellfire. When the smoke cleared, I looked around to see if everyone had survived. We had made it through what I had thought would be the end of us.

As I readied my shield and sword he began to charge at me, the only difference was this time his entire body was engulfed in flame. Now he began to use his abilities twice as often, and when he dashed, instead of one, there stood three. The beast beat on us as if we were mere insects being squished beneath a Roegadyn's foot. Sometime after, he again called upon his infernal nails and regenerated his horns. This time however, instead of four, there stood 8 surrounding the outside of the pit. As we took down our last nail my fellow adventurers broke off his horns. Again we prepared for what we knew was coming. After the blast, I again readied my shield and blade as he charged me more furious then ever.

He now would use two of his abilities back to back against us. We thought it couldn't get any worse and that it would all be over soon if we could just hold on a little longer. Again he spawned his infernal nails, more then we could imagine. Our warrior took down one horn again then proceeded to help the rest of our mates in taking down his nails. One last time we prepared for what we knew was coming. When the smoke finally cleared, I awoke from my daze. I could barley hold on to my blade anymore. I mustered what strength I had left for one final stand against the beast.

Now he began to use his abilities three by three in which we needed to be more aware then ever. After a short time, we sensed Ifrit was getting weak. For in his desperation he threw everything he had at us to try and finish us before we did him. When we had finally taken him down, I looked around to see who was still standing, but it was all for naught. All whom entered the cave with me that day had perished under the might of the great Ifrit Extreme.

"A story? We've no time for stories, we've a kingdom to build!" Arthur's passionate words emanated in time with the fire's roar as one of his companions, a Dragoon named Richter Sarkany, stoked it to life. The Paladin's eyes roamed over his three companions sitting restfully about Camp Black Brush after a day of traveling from Gridania to Ul'dah.

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"And are we to build this mighty kingdom in the middle of the night, dearrrry?" Elsa Friis, their Miqo'te friend gifted in healing offered a catty brow quirk from her seat near the fire. The jest evoked a hearty laugh from Crelyos Highwind, the last of their company and a Monk whose punch lines were as deadly as his punches.

"Ha! There's an idea! Get the marmots to join! They're the only docile creatures scurrying around at night! People'll go positively nuts over them!" Crelyos grabbed his stomach, laughing at his own joke. Richter finished bringing the fire to life and took a seat next to Elsa shaking his head.

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"Oh Highwind, if only your fighting wasn't as dull as your wit." The dragoon removed his helmet and set it next to him on a patch of grass, inhaling as the grasses' crunch released the dusty smell of Thanalan's desert into the night air. Crelyos retorted, "Oh, I suppose my fighting should be sharp as the useless jagged sticks pokin' outta that purple dodo excrement you call armor?!"

"If not, at least your wit." Richter grinned at the frustration of his companion.
"Marmots... jagged. Aha!" King Arthur exclaimed, tapping his fist against his palm to announce: 'Eureka!'. A devilish grin spread across his face as he crept to the flames, hovering over them. "If you want a story, I shall tell the tale of Jack, the most evil marmot that haunts the plains of Thanalan. Even the Twelve fear it with their lives!"
"You... want to scare us with the storrrry of a raggedy marmot, Arthur?" Despite Elsa's sarcasm, the group leaned forward with anticipation as Arthur began in an eerily embellishing voice.

"It began on a windy night like this one when I was a fledgling honing my skills in the merciless desert. As I knew little of attack and defense, I targeted the harmless critters plaguing the countryside near Ul'dah's gates. Though Momodi warned me of hunting alone at night, I believed myself invincible! No marmot or coblyn was safe from my blade!

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Hours later I perfected the art. The lashing coblyn tentacle and the powerful marmot kick were too easy to avoid, and the vitals of these vermin were too easy to find with sword's tip. It was such a killing blow, perhaps one of thousands of marmots, that provoked a blood-curdling squeal. Instantly I felt eyes on my back.

I whirled about to face this new adversary but was brought to my knees inwardly. Within the darkness upon a distant hill stood a marmot unlike the others. It stared with purpose and intelligence. Its fur bristled aggressively. Its eyes, normally adorable pools, were endless obsidian voids of aimed hatred. It unleashed a screech like the banshees of old and charged down the hillside. Its hops were as thunder rolling across the La Noscean plains! I ran blind and afraid into the darkness. After several hundred yalms, I was lost but confident I gave the demonic marmot the slip.

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As I rustled about, the crinkling of Thanalan's dry brush at my back coaxed my attention. As I slowly turned, I felt the marmot's breath at my heels. My gaze met the black pits as its maw hissed open revealing sharp, pointy teeth! I screamed and swung wildly with my blade, connecting with the creature's ear and shaving off part of it!

After that I ran for hours, stumbling about until I met a couple near a camp fire. That couple was you, Elsa and Richter. Even today I don't know what happened to the creature I named Jack. When I see a marmot, I check for an ear wound and black eyes. No matter how far I travel, I feel its nearby, watching me and waiting for its chance to avenge its brethren... and its jaggedy ear."

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Listen my lovelies, listen and hear, here is my tale, so listen well. It was upon a night not different from this. A fire as bright and warm as called for by the chill night air. I the stranger it from afar after a hard journey. He was sitting beside this very fire wearing a bright red cloak and I took him immediately to be a mage. He beckoned and I approached the fire eager to warm my bones and tail. He seemed to smile, but his face was shrouded in darkness. Quiet reigned for several minutes and then he began his tale.
There is naught to fear in all Eorza for a true champion. He paused and looked me in the eye, or seemed to do so out of darkness. Save one thing. Of course you , in your wisdom, know what that might be.
Puzzled, I said, I do not.
As he leaned close I got a momentary whiff of sulphur and death as he intoned, Yourself.
He paused a moment and continued. I was once an innocent adventurer looking for the Siren's Sword. I had searched the depths of dungeons for over a year when one night I happened on a stranger at a campfire. We had a pleasant conversation and I confessed the treasure I sought. He said, by coincidence, he happened to know where it was to be found. Then, without prodding or bribery he offered to show me its resting place. Immediately my heart leapt at the chance. I followed him to a stone door set in a wall of rock and he called out a spell of opening. The door opened on a narrow tunnel that led deep into the earth. At the bottom was a well and he offered to lower me on a rope to the chest containing the prize. Without thinking I agreed and soon reached the bottom and the chest. It was within my grasp but I could not open the box. At this point he paused and said, I cannot finish my tale unless you are willing to don my robe. It seemed like an odd request but harmless enough. I agreed and put on his robe. Without his robe the old man was a withered skeleton.
He continued his tale, Telling the stranger my dilemma; he said he would open the chest if I would do something for him. In my foolishness I said I would do whatever he asked. He said, "When you get the sword you must kill me and put on my robe." I agreed and he dropped me a golden key. I opened the chest and got the sword of my desire. A few moments later I was standing over the wizard's dead body wearing his red robe. I soon discovered it to be one of the primal artifacts and have tremendous power, but it has a drawback, every spell cast sucks the life from your own body until nothing is left but rot. Now there is no escape from this curse save to pass the robe on to another willing soul, as I have just done. I thank you for my release. With that I was left sitting here pondering my situation. I ask you, is ultimate power worth the cost of your own life? Would you don my robe and wear my sword to release me from my curse?
Of course my choice is obvious since I now wear the red robe. I chose power over life.

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After the levequest, Dibs questioned an eye patch that fell out of Charmin's bag. Charmin replied...

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"'The Shposhae Shanty', Limsan traditional, Version Two."

"Version two?"

Sahagins' wail and aurelias' grip
Bloody tides and slimy drip
Dare not enter without sword-on-hip
An' move fast, lads, at fearful clip
Shposhae - tomb of death and lore
Where legends undie from days of yore
Sucking winds and eerie fire
All mashed and pulped in murd'rous gyre

Ahoy ye lads 'n listen well
Yer life may lie upon this tale
O' th' Master Marauder I do sing
Ol' Cap'n Mistbeard, Pirates' King

T'was one place that he dared t'go
Shposhae, known as Sahaugin-home
Yet thar he lay 'is gotten gains
Plundered from Eorza's mains

Rycharde was 'is mortal name
Now lost to sea of wave and fame
What 'e'd do to be so feared
'N earn 'is title o' Mistbeard

Th' 'Eart o' Girdania he plundered first
Then sailed to Ul'dah with greater durst
Took th' sultan's skins and gold
An' th' sultana's maidenhead as he t'were bold

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Now spurred on without mortal stress
Cap-and-crew sailed o'er th'Abyss
T' lands and seas yet found on charts
But...there be monsters in them parts

What fate befell the King's own crew
So that of all who went returned but two
To beast, to siren, to mania some tell
That turned Mistbeard's armada into a living hell

Just the captain and his cannonboy
Returned to shore wi' their bloody foy
Wrecked an' ravaged and paranoid
Haunted by things from beyond the Void

To forget the horrors and find succor
They berthed upon a Noscean shore
Here further myth-mists cover our told-well-tale
After th' boy was left an' Captain set sail

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To Moraby Bay Mistbeard cruised
Alone and mad with sanity bruised
Where could he hide his blood-bought trove
Out of reach that wasn't his Cove

A secret place with reputation
Of bloody murder that befit his station
To forever house his remaining swag
And rebuild his rights to drink and brag

Sahagins' wail and aurelias' grip
Bloody tides and slimy drip
Dare not enter without sword-on-hip
An' move fast, lads, at fearful clip
Shposhae - tomb of death and lore
Where legends undie from days of yore
Sucking winds and eerie fire
All mashed and pulped in murd'rous gyre

Outside the cave he piled his wares
Gritted his teeth and on shoulder bears
His legacy inside that haunted hall
Where dampness settles like a funeral pall

There to respite from loss and pain
And through battle with beastmen gain
His honor back as well as mettle
Shposhae would be where he would settle

Further in he left a path
Of key and coffer in salty bath
Down and down the captain went
But none could see where the Sahagin were sent

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Nary a trace of scale nor fin
Raised concern about these fishy kin
What did the captain deep explore
That made him heard from nevermore

It's been at least ten summers since any spoke
Of Mistbeard's whereabouts as legend or bloke
But there has been one passed-down rumor
About his loss of eye-made humor

Aye, one eye, that needed patched
Given up lest in Ul'Dah catched
But one that would emboldenize
And free him from fear's paralyze

Perhaps this was the very token
That suppressed his reason and caused, embolden'
To sail off the edge of fate
And risk his legend'ry estate

A cursed thing, passed down through time
From King to King as they sailed the brine
If earned by feats ever more braver
How did then Rycharde lose this favor

Ah, but where it's now's the mystery to unfurl
The answer's this, t'is with the Lone Coeurl
T'was the whiskered beast that ended the line
Of Captain Mistbeard, legend o' thine

Now it's sung that one who finds
The patch and dons it binds
Himself to Prince of Wat'ry Damned
Forever haunting the seas and land

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Sahagins' wail and aurelias' grip
Bloody tides and slimy drip
Dare not enter without sword-on-hip
An' move fast, lads, at fearful clip
Shposhae - tomb of death and lore
Where legends undie from days of yore
Sucking winds and eerie fire
All mashed and pulped in murd'rous gyre

A Contest

On a moon darker than the rest, an anonymous letter appeared at the doorstep of three adventurers. The message of the letter was simple, "Meet me at Camp Tranquil. I am in dire need of your services. You will be paid handsomely." The three souls who received the mysterious letter were a merchant from Ul'dah, a botanist from Gridania, and a cook from Limsa Lominsa. All three had never met, but were willing to assist the plea for help. The merchant and cook boarded their city-states' airship, while the botanist walked to Camp Tranquil.

After several bells, all three letter bearers were sitting around Camp Tranquil's campfire as it glistened in the night. The three discussed for half a bell.

The merchant boasted of his market selling anything and everything that was found along his travels. The cook then commented on his successful culinary career, and how he developed a new tasty take on Bouillabaisse. Finally, the botanist chimed in telling stories of his wood being the finest that all the carpenters wanted.

As the conversation went on, the three eventually put their talk of accomplishments away and turned to curiosity. The cook questioned the two if all three of the letters received were identical in handwriting as well as in message of urgency. Each brought out their copy of the letter and when put side by side, was the same. The merchant sighed with relief. He was glad he did not spend five-thousand gil for the airship fee just for a prank. The cook was about to make a comment, but kept it in.

Unexpectedly, the botanist pointed to a mystifying figure walking towards the three sitting. The merchant and cook immediately turned their heads to see what was approaching. The figure was clearly a hyur wearing a black cloak and mask. The figure reached the campfire.

Next, the figure began to speak in a muffled voice. He thanked the three for coming to his aid. He then told the three to listen carefully. The merchant, botanist, and cook looked at one another and remained silent. The black cloaked individual began. He summoned the three to retrieve a lost staff. The hyur explained he was practicing magic in the forest when a pack of wolves encircled him. He was outnumbered, and had no choice but to leave the staff when he fled for his life. He said he needed more than just himself to search , since The Black Shroud has many pathways. He felt with four of them, the staff would be recovered swiftly.

After hearing the tale, the three agreed with four it would be an easy undertaking. The merchant declared spreading out was the best plan and headed northeast of Camp Tranquil. The cook disagreed with the merchant and teamed up with the botanist who started their search together directly east. The hyur smiled and walked into the forest, happy his staff would be returned.

Three bells passed, and the night became darker. The cook and the botanist began to near The Rootslake. A sudden scream of agony echoed through the forest. The botanist and cook quickly spun around. The scream did not come from directly behind them. The botanist suggested to the cook that they teleport to Silent Arbor to ensure the merchant was safe. The cook, frightened, told the botanist he did not have enough anima. The botanist, also afraid, assured the cook it would not take long to teleport there and back to him. The cook waited by two small trees.

Once the botanist arrived, he saw a horrific sight. The merchant was dead next to a bush with his eyes carved out and two pieces of gil replacing where the eyes should have been. The botanist immediately rushed back to where the cook was waiting. However, the cook was tied up between two trees with a lit fire burning his corpse. The botanist's eyes and mouth were agape. As he was about to turn back to Camp Tranquil, he heard a crack and before he knew it a tree toppled on him. The hyur's staff was never recovered.

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And now I ask you three. Will you find my staff?

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For I can not cast doubt on my fellow becuase in the era of the 6th umrbal, time it's self laid waste to many a great adventures. We ventured on, many had come and gone but our sporting friendship had become our anchor and my doom. You, who knows the nature of competitors will undoubtly excuse my behaviour being a famous crafter when I procured the special magicial pumpkin potion rumored to behold properties unlike anyting in all the three nations. A deal was struck with a shady traveler for practically an armys worth of linens and wool garbs over many cycles of harverst moon's whence he would return to trade his pumpkins.

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Humble Measure took note of the super fine luster of my blue tipped tail due to my improved purse and being an adaptive hume to suit the time and opportunity took upon herself to play a trick on me. For a shady traveler was offerering a transmorgifying tonic made from pumpkin juice that would temporarily make one into a pumpkin. Ha! Yes indeed for he offered only that she give it to none other then Thelonious, me becuase some how a rumor had broke out that I was juicing Ul'dah orge pumpkins and who does that. This will be hilarious!

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So in a dream like state I woke up and rolled to the Gridanian Mercantile House to sell my goods. Only the horror, the horror of that day drove me to haste to Lominsan Mercantile House where again no matter how low I set the prices I was forced to head to Ul'dah early only to relize to my utter dismay....nothing had sold in my bazaar.

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No one knew I had struck a deal with a Garlean. That I was consuming vast amounts of there secret elixir. I never knew my fellow had made the same aquaintence a year later. I never knew Humble had replaced one of my pumpkin tonics. No one ever never knew I was going to stay a pumpkin. Now a year past and no one knows where the famous crafter has gone.

Being one to never let myself down I made this situation a relic of the past and now I had a new achievement to come. Being born an Ul'dahian it was now clear I was going to become the greatest pumpkin anyone had ever seen. So without hesitation I headed out to the Coffer and Coffin and planted myself right in the patch. Now the secret lies with me that Ul'dah orge pumpkins will be imbued with a crafting grace like that of which the twelve gods have never seen! Ha! who has the last laugh now?!?!?

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There are many legends in Eorzea, some of them oral traditions handed down by the bards over generations, some of them whispered rumors passed between children, and still more shared by adults in hushed tones inside houses. The last ones tend to be the ones based on a nugget of truth, although the stories may be exaggerated over the years for dramatic purposes.

It was these such stories that two friends, taking a pause from adventuring, were sharing at Camp Black Brush one evening. The atmosphere was just perfect for sharing scary stories together, with the menacing ships in the sky, the terrifying visage of the red moon approaching, and mysterious Atomos doing something very interesting to the aetheryte node.

The two girls, long into their cups, were now trying to out-do each other. They'd been swapping tales all evening, and now that the sun had slipped below the horizon, they were getting bolder and bolder.

“Have you heard the one about the headless chocobo?” Cat said, eying the pack chocobo on the other side of the camp.

“You mean, the headless chocobo rider, don't you?” Lahurah corrected.

Cat shook her head. “No, it was definitely a headless chocobo. You see, its owner was in a hurry to teleport, and didn't finish dismounting all the way before casting the spell. The chocobo's body was caught in range, but its head was left behind.”

“That's dumb.” Lahurah snorted into her cup. “A teleport spell's range is a lot bigger than a chocobo.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Cat said, annoyed to have her story picked apart by logic. “Maybe he had dismounted it and was running away.”

“So what does this headless chocobo do?”

Cat leaned forward, trying to get maximum scary effect from the campfire onto her face. “Legend has it that on nights like these-”

“When there's a strange creature eating the aetheryte nodes, you mean?”

“Hush! On nights just like this one, the Headless Chocobo approaches adventures, and attacks them, trying to get them to find its head. Only it's just a scrawny neck, so no one knows that's what it wants. And,” she paused for dramatic effect and lowered her voice, “if its neck actually touches you... your head will disappear too.”

“I can't believe you actually believe that.” Lahurah, ever the more practical minded of the two, had said that regarding every single story Cat had told her that evening.

“Well excuuuuuse me! It's a lot more exciting than your story about the mutant popoto.”

Lahurah shuddered. “You didn't see it. No root vegetable should ever look like that.”

Cat tucked her small legs further under her, as the night air was beginning to chill. “Shall we head back to town soon? We're all out of leve quests to do for the day.”

“Sure,” Lahurah said, and moved to stand up. However, once she was upright she froze in place. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. She lifted one hand to point in the direction of Ul'Dah.

“What?” Cat asked, and then turned around to where Lahurah was pointing. When she saw what had terrified the Mi'Quote girl so, the Lalafelle let out an ear-splitting scream.

There before them was a chocobo that appeared to have no head. Where its body should have been, there was a normal yellow chocobo shape, but the head and beak were completely missing. A man walked beside it, wearing ghostly white.

“Quick! Get back to Ul'Dah!” Cat shouted. She didn't have to tell her best friend twice, as the other girl was already frantically Returning herself as well.

With a small pop, they were gone.

The Headless Chocobo continued into Camp Black Brush, but it was not alone. It was being led patiently by a chocobo trainer, who reached up to undo the black kerchief that was covering its head, once they were safely inside the camp's borders.

“Easy, girl. I told you we'd get through all those fiends with no problem,” the trainer said, and patted the chocobo on the flanks. “What you can't see can't hurt you!”

The legend's nugget of truth, which no one had ever told to Cat or Lahurah, was that chocobos would rather see nothing at all than see fiend's eyes glowing in the dark, so young, skittish chocobos would frequently be transported with full blinders when they were not part of a caravan. Once the chocobo was older and more sure of itself, the kerchief on its head would no longer be necessary.

That was no consolation to the two girls, who were huddled together in the Hourglass, screaming about headless chocobos at Camp Black Brush.

The Twelves wood lay still this night. My Companions and I rest from our weary travels. Only the crackle of the fire breaks the silence. It's warmth cradles our wounds from battle. The images in our minds, the screams, the horror, stay our tongues. We faced our enemy on the battlefield. Our friends, our family, decimated before our very eyes. "The way they looked..." I muttered. "It... was...". I couldn't finish the words. I knew all to well what had happened that day.
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The nightmare, the eve of the battle brought me to tears. I was trapped, in a dark place. My friends, family, even the place I loved were all gone. No matter where I looked, no matter where I ran, I was... no place. The thoughts that filled my head, were horrific! I dreamed of death, despair, torture! I couldn't control myself! EVERYTHING HAD TO DIE!!
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Images flash through my head... wandering aimless. The lust for death was so great, the faces of everything and everyonewere distorted, making every soul in Eorzea unrecognizable. My skin was on fire and my eyes burned with all the hatred of a thousand demons! Who had I become?! Whom will stop me?! The Red Moon Beckons...
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Like the Swiftness of Odin's hand I awoke on my knees with my friends again. Tears of sorrow filled my eyes. Not one of them comforts me... I bow down in despair screaming "why do you leave me alone?!" "what wrong have I done?!" As I look about, my friends now had their gaze upon me! Weapons drawn they wish to strike me down! But why... It was all just a nightmare.....
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wasn't it....?

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Rose “Hey Cap, I need you to do something really important!”
Captain “Sure, what is it Rose?”
Rose “Tell us a scary story.”
Captain “Argh tricked again… fine”
Everyone else laughs…
Once upon a time there was a fierce Lalafel Conjurer who enjoyed hunting treasures; everyone shook in fear at her ferocity when they were in battle. She barked orders often taking charge of the battle and as she did the people danced into place and assuring victory. However, as often as she took charge she hated running the show and often ended up going places by herself, to hunt treasure while the others recovered from the previous battle.

While finishing a rather difficult battle in the dungeon of Totorak just as the others left after fully cleansing the caves of the taint of monsters, Roxy spotted a Miqo’te she did not recognize as being with them in the caves. She approached Roxy in a solid black cowl with a large golden eye design that covered over her face. She whispered softly, “well done Roxy, I’ve been watching your progress. You are certainly doing well, perhaps you should try this potion to increase your power… and better yet visit Mun Tuy Cellars, I know a monster there may have something you would really want. Well time I was off.” And with those last words a bubble appeared and she vanished.

Roxy intrigued at the idea of gaining power and powerful items snagged the potion which held the label of Hi Potion of Intelligence. She felt invigorated with energy and wit as she headed towards the Cellars, fully confident in her ability to handle whatever dangers lingered in the weak catacombs beneath treespeak. Her chocobo Katarinah carried her there within an hour and a half’s passing, She entered the dungeon excitedly full of energy from the potion she had consumed. She ventured in quickly and quietly searching for the treasure she approached a room and found it full of the undead… living bones with swords and shields blocked her path. She silently snuck in with her stone skin and protect barriers at the ready. They noticed her, obviously because they could sense the living since they had no eyes or ears. They made a rush for her, in a matter of seconds a rush of power and energy formed around them and a powerful gale of cutting winds tore them to pieces. She quickly snuck away before the sounds could alarm more monsters to her presence. The rush was really getting to her, she felt like a god. She made her way slaying more and more monsters entering deeper and deeper into the dungeon. She found a monster guarding a pile of fabric, it appeared to be a cowl of some kind… similar to the one the mystery Miqo’te was wearing but in rich wine color.

The princely gnat floated gently over the cowl as if it was a nest of some sort. A soft buzzing filled the air as she drew nearer. She walked towards it and cast a spell to crush the monster, the earth rose around it and struck it to the ground. The creature buzzed loudly and fell to the ground. Roxy, cheerfully slid on the new cowl that seemed to be just her size. As she did the buzzing began again and the foul insect regained it’s senses. The sting hit her instantly and she collapsed. She awoke in a different room dazed and confused, the soft humming of power that she previously felt from the potion now made her woozy and unfocused. Several imps floated in and circled her, the gnat who had stung her seemed to be sleeping at the edge of the room. Finally, the Miqo’te came in this time without the hood covering her face. It’s eyes glowed the same color as the imps around her. Roxy realized what it was now, it was the demon Alux. “So nice of you to put on your sacrificial robe for us, we really appreciate it. As you can see you will be joining us for dinner.” Said Alux. Roxy struggled against her binds but it was too late. She was dinner.
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The rider looked tired while approaching the camp. A smile grew on her face as she watched mulled tea and bread passed around the campsite. The campfire illuminated her face, Mariku Jatariku, a Lalafell yelled, "Here kitty-kitty, join us!" She laughed and sat near the fire and filled her belly and warmed her bones.

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Jatariku poked her side and said, "Friis, tell us a story that would make Menphina blush!" "Not tonight. How about 'Screaming Berrrtram Hackett?'"

"There was a Hyur named Bertram Hackett. He was a Midlander with coolest of nerves. He made gil debunking ghost stories. He grew tired of never finding anything to give him a fright. He was drinking one night when a fellow Hyur tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hackett?" he gasped. Hackett nodded as he pulled apart his flatbread. "Me name is Fenner, Gavril Fenner. I work at a castle in northern La Noscea. It's haunted by a fiendish ghoul!"

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Hackett smiled as his eyebrows raised, "Explain," going through the same routine again, he thought. "The ghoul screams at all hours of the night, breaks the valuable artifacts of me master and I get blamed fer it all! Me pockets can't cover the price of such things and me sanity is damn near lost!" Hackett nodded, "Give me the exact location and I'll be there tomorrow. After the sun sets." Fenner clutched his hand and shook it with such enthusiasm that Hackett's whole body shook.

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Hackett arrived at the castle and Fenner greeted him, "Thanks, Hackett. Ye can't believe how much this means to me and the staff. Luckily, me master and his family is out fer the night, er else he wouldn't of agreed to such a thing!" Hackett nodded his head, "Please make sure everyone is outside during the examination."

Hackett entered the castle. His heart wasn't in it anymore. He knew the destruction and chaos was probably being caused by something utterly boring and mundane.

Hackett began his journey through the living room, running his fingers over the velvet material of the couch. "Any ghouls in here?" Nothing.

He inspected the immaculately kept kitchen. The dishes shined brightly and he caught his reflection. "An old wash up," he whispered. "Any ghouls in here?" The door creaked. He turned towards it, waiting for something, but- nothing.

He then moved to the candlelit corridors to the bedrooms. The bedroom was pink. A cotton bear sat on the edge of the bed near dodo-down stuffed pillows. "Any ghouls in here?" The bear fell to the ground. He walked over to the bear and put it back onto the bed. "Make it move again." Nothing.

Hackett moved to the second room. The blankets were blue and there were wooden swords on the table. He grabbed the swords and ran his fingers along the smooth blade. "Any ghouls in here?" Nothing.

Hackett moved to the last bedroom. There were bottles of perfume and trinkets on a dresser across from the bed. He grabbed a perfume and took a whiff, then sniffed out with disgust. "Any ghouls in here?" Nothing.

"There's never anything to be frightened of," said Hackett. A perfume bottle fell off the dresser and shattered. It was pungent and instantly began to make his head ping with pain.

"Just fake ghouls created by childish minds. By the Twelve, if you are real, all you can do is knock over perfume! You're nothing to be afraid of!" At that very moment, he felt something slam into him, which made him fall to the ground, followed by a blast of cold air against his legs. Hackett saw no one around and let out a scream. He began to run back to the exit of the castle where the staff members were waiting.

As he ran, he looked down and noticed his pants had been ripped clean off of his legs. He then heard a deep, devilish laugh, "An old wash up. HA! Any ghouls in here?" Laughter from hundreds of ghouls began emanating from all rooms. As he cleared the front door, the staff's eyes grew wide with terror, Hackett kept screaming, "GHOULS!"

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And that, darrrrlings, was the last they ever saw Screaming Berrrtram Hackett."

The Chocobo-headed Roegadyn

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Gather around and I shall tell you the tale of Deli Dekurok...the Chocobo-head Roegadyn.

As a young scholar, Deli stumbled upon an odd, ancient text hidden on a dark shelf the basement of the Arrzaneth Ossuary. It told of a powerful Roegadyn race that existed back in the days before Dalamund hung low in the sky. A race of Roegadyn which still had tails and the were the most powerful and wise race in all of Eorzea. Believing their tails to be the source of their power, Deli grabbed the ancient texts and maps inside it set off on his epic quest.

However, he never got very far on his journey. An evil Lalafell Sorcerer, Mevina Lavina, saw Deli wandering through the forest too close to his home and invited him in for dinner.
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As Mevina served Deli a delicious meal of Roasted Dodo, salted leeks and popatos and Mulled Tea, they talked and Deli told Mevina of his quest to find the missing Roegadyn tails. Mevina knew that this would make the Roegadyn’s very powerful, and wanting that power for himself, he made sure that Deli would never be able to finish his quest.
In order to prevent Deli’s success, Mevina worked feverishly through the night while Deli slept, on a potion that would banish Deli’s hopes forever. When Deli woke in the morning, Mevina, still pretending to be a friend, handed Deli a satchel of Sweet Rice Cakes and Mulled tea to sustain him along his journey. He also provided him with fresh gysal greens for his Chocobo Steed

Off Deli went, occasionally stopping to enjoy the tasty treats that Mevina prepared for him…when suddenly, he felt as though he MUST stop for a nap. He found a safe meadow to settle down in for the afternoon and rested. But to his horror when he woke up, his chocobo was missing! Deli knew the chocobo he raised from a hatchling would never leave his side, and he began to look for him. What he found horrified him. He found a pile of yellow plumes, and a couple half-eaten rice cakes…”no “he thought, “I couldn’t have.”

Now panicked, he ran to the lake at the end of the meadow hoping to wash his face and wake from this horrible dream. When he saw his reflection, he fainted….for instead of his reflection; he saw that of his chocobo….

For you see, Mevina knew that in order for Deli to enter the ancient Roegadyn temple he had to enter without a chocobo. Now that he and his chocobo had become one, there was no way for him to enter and no way for him to reclaim his tail.
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Now forced to roam with the head of a chocobo as his own, Deli searches the land looking for Mevina. In his revenge, he terrorizes all the Lalafell's he meets along the way by stealing their teddy bears and eating their Crowned Cakes.

Huhuhuhu......Welcome to a memory where a spear is no simple spear, and a moon no simple moon......
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Dalamund was on an adventure, as all life in Eorzea is. However this adventure was different. It was full of strife, fear, longing, and pain. Amongst these emotions however laid the very essence of life. Life in it's upmost glory, when emotions that usually last minutes seem to extend for hours. Except for Dalamund........

Now Dalamund himself wasn't a very emotional man, as a matter of fact some would say he was a rather stoic character. A man who's emotions seemed to be stored away some place deep,solemn, and lonely. Why was Dalamund so? Probably due to the fact that he had traveled far and wide, from the very center of Eorzea to her Deepest edges. He had been to deserts with more life then forests, and forests so desolate they were deserts. He had seen all that there was of this land named Eorzea, or so he had assumed until that night.
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That night as he stared at the stars, imagining what it would be like to explore the sky, Eorzea revealed to him a secret he had never seen before. A secret in the shape of a woman, a woman named Bradamante! Bradamante had traveled far and wide herself, after all she was a Warrior Maiden, a job not to be taken lightly. However even with all the battles she had been in Bradamante had never seen such an emotionally removed man as Dalamund. This concerned her so much that the first words formed from her mouth were not a greeting but a question, "Poor man why are you so Emotionless?"

However this question that many would deem to be rude, awakened something within Dalamund! As if the emotions hidden so deep within burst forth from within him in a torrent of red hot fire. " I 'am fed up with Eorzea! I have seen all she has to give, and all that the people of her deem to take!" "They think not of her and simply take of her, like the never ceasing hunger of parasites!"

Bradamante being the patient woman she was let his voice echo and die into silence before she asked: "Is that why you stare at the sky?" to which Dalamund replied "Yes the sky is peaceful, it is vast, and none has explored it!" Being a Warrior Maiden Bradamante could not condone the thought of just dreaming, when one could be taking action. "So you wish to change this land of Eorzea and her people?" " Make them regret what they have done to her?" Bradamante asked Dalamund. "Yes very much so!" replied Dalamund, " But I do not have the power or the ability to do so". "Then...." replied Bradamante "Come with me and we shall get the power to do so together"!

Dalamund watched as Bradamante extended her hand out to him as she finished speaking. His heart was beating like it never had before. Just who is this woman! Dalamund wasn't sure who she was but as he took her hand the only thought that came to his mind was, If it's with her I think I could...........

As the fog of memories older then any could know began to fade away, Dalamund heard a faint whisper call to him......."l-a-r...d-n-o.....
He couldn't understand what was being said, but as it repeated it got louder: L-u-A-r.....D-y-N-o....
Dalamund couldn't quite make it out, It sounded like Bradamante's voice! If only it was said again!
Then it came again, and this time was heard: LUNAR DYNAMO!
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Dalamund awoke to Bradamantes call and as he did the memories left inside of the man that was Dalamund weeped.
That night The Red Eye Moon, Dalamund, Weeped Meteors Upon Eorzea!

With the star of Dalamud growing ever-brighter, adventurers have all been coping in their own ways. Some have taken to hiding and some have begun to prepare for a journey to a new world. Not long ago, an adventurer named Arla decided that she would spend her final hours revisiting and exploring her home with her chocobo, Charity. Together, they visited everywhere from the abandoned castles of the Eastern Coerthas Highlands to Silvertear Lake in Mor Dhona. With every destination growing more dangerous than the last, Charity would suffer greater and greater damage from the wild beasts lurking about, until one night when it proved to be too much.


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Arla was heartbroken. She had only meant to enjoy her last moments together with Charity, not cut them even shorter. Now, she can be seen sitting at the campfire of Camp Riversmeet near where she lost her beloved Charity to the wild beasts.

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She spends her days now culling their numbers, her bag so full of Jade and Mudstones that she could build her own city of Ul’dah. Rumors of her madness began to spread. Her nights are spent sitting at the campfire… waiting for Charity to return. Hoping on chance to meet her beloved chocobo once more.

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Some nights she swears that she saw the bird run by. Other nights she simply wrestles with what she knows deep down may be true, but if you ask the merchants at Camp Riversmeet, they would sell you a different tale. Arla and Charity had never parted ways at all. It was the red star of Dalamud that drove Arla mad… and the beast that struck the poor bird down was none other than Arla herself.

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Sang watched the firelight dance across Eyelet’s face. They both took respite in Aleport, allowing the brisk sea air to cleanse their minds after a long day of battle. The sunset would have been lovely over the oceanic horizon if Dalamud wasn’t so ominous overhead. It was impossible to truly relax with that ever-present reminder of even darker days to come.
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“Do you ever wonder…” Sang Riah began thoughtfully as she contemplated her own existence, “If any of this is really real?”

Eyelet laughed at Sang, “It feels pretty real to me,” she teased.

“Yeah, I had a dream that I was incubating an enormous egg last night and THAT felt pretty real!” Sang confessed trying to prove a point, “I even checked the bed when I woke up. I found an hourglass biscuit…”

“Ew!” Eyelet exclaimed. “Oh my god, did I see you eat that earlier today!?”

Sang hesitated, “…I needed the extra defense.”

“Well, what would you need defense for if none of this was real? You think this is all just some elaborate dream? That the Astral Age that was supposed to last forever isn’t coming to an end and we aren’t being assaulted by Garleans from all directions?” Eyelet got angry.

“I just,” Sang tried to put her thoughts into words, “sometimes I feel like there’s something else, something more. Like there’s always someone watching me, everywhere I go…”

Eyelet laughed at Sang again, “Maybe if you put some clothes on you wouldn’t feel like you were being watched,” she stuck her tongue out at Sang.

“Pfft,” Sang spat, “Look who’s talking!”
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They both grew quiet once again, reflective. “Maybe it’s Dalamud watching you,” Eyelet contemplated out loud, “like a big, red, eye.”

Sang stood up and stared intently at Dalamud, mesmerized. She almost felt like she was being pulled into an Echo. “You never feel like there might be another you somewhere?” She asked Eyelet, desperate for understanding, “...I don’t know, living another life?” Sang ripped herself away from Dalamud’s gaze and faced Eyelet, “Don’t you ever feel like… dancing!?”

Sang Riah swung her arm out and then her leg in strange, awkward movements that looked neither joyous nor sexy…
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Sangria Allegra bolted straight up out of bed, patting herself vigorously all over to make sure she was neither long nor lanky. She hopped out of bed, stretching her limbs out and giving her butt a little wiggle. She was still cute!
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She fumbled for her linkpearl, seeking the comfort of a good friend and proof of this reality. “Kuromi!?”

“Allegra! You’re going to be late for our Linkshell event in Aleport!” Sangria’s friend scolded. “You better get out here quick!”

Sangria used her anima to teleport herself immediately to Camp Skull Valley and quickly made her way south to Aleport on her trusty chocobo, Seraphim.

“I had the most terrible nightmare!” Sangria exclaimed upon arrival.

“What about?” Kuromi welcomed.

“We were Elezen! Really tall and awkward. Not cute at all,” Sangria gushed then suddenly remembered the most horrific part, “AND I couldn’t dance!”

“Well that was totally a dream and not real at all! Remember when I had that strange dream about being turned into a biscuit by an evil sorcerer!” Kuromi laughed at her own foolishness. “I certainly didn’t wake up and call you, thinking I actually WAS a ginger cookie!”

“I know, I just can’t shake this feeling. Come dance with me!” Sangria invited Kuromi, “We’ll dance until we fall over laughing and erase this terrible nightmare from my thoughts.”

Members of their Linkshell, The Knights of Serenity, began to arrive. The Lalafells were contagious with their cuteness and they all joined in, celebrating their friendship around the campfire in spite of Dalamud’s maleficent glow.

Allegra watched all her friends enjoy the moment but was then confused when they all seemed to slow in unison, their movements becoming choppy. To her horror, everyone froze in place trapped in a moment of joy. With all her might she tried to move but although her mind was consumed with panic and terror, her face was frozen in happiness.
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A booming voice ended the torment for her: “ERROR 30002”

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A storyteller will sometimes say "this is a true story" in order to frighten. I do not know if my story is true, and that terrifies me. I do not tell it to frighten, I tell it because I cannot bear this fear alone.

I want to call them nightmares, but they are memories. They lack the haziness of dreams and plague my thoughts with a vivid clarity. Though I know in my mind none of it can be true, and my heart aches to deny it, my spirit scorns me for my skepticism.

I remember the future. Memories of Hydaelyn on fire; our civilizations turned to ashes. The fools that sought to control Dalamud eradicated not only Eorzea, but themselves, and the entire world with it. My body was destroyed and yet my consciousness remained. I understood. The Gods saw Hydaelyn as a mistake.

I remember another future. With the fall of The White Raven, Dalamud was repelled and all of Eorzea hailed us as heroes. It was glorious for a time. However in the years to come adventurers began to vanish en masse, disappearing into the Aetheryte never to return. Monsters began to overrun the land, and the world grew cold and dark.

I remember the past. One that never was; in a place I've never been. A place called Vana'diel. I never so much as held a lance in this place. A strange place where the denizens of the land were disquietly similar to our own. I do not know this place, but I recall it fondly. Still, it is not the only past that I see; within the Aetheryte I see echoes of myself, yet they are not me.

I remember the world reborn. Like the world itself, I was the same, but somehow different. The subtleties were unnerving. My grip was incorrect and still my lance would strike true. When traveling between lands I would sometimes feel faint, as if suddenly waking from a dream. Even the shadow I cast upon the ground seemed wrong.

I remember myself. My existence has traversed many worlds, and met with many ends. The ones that came before me haunt my shadow. They say you will join us soon. When the world is reborn I know all that I have accomplished, all the glory I have achieved will shine once more, yet it will shine in a different light. I remember the person I am is gone forever. I remember the end of myself. I remember Vanas Gardthorne.

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Once there was a young and beautiful hume of Gridania. Her parents had to leave the woods for the night on a urgent leves noticed,quest and all, and had left their daughter home alone with their faithful family dog named Shadow. The young girl was instructed to lock all the doors after they left. She did what she was told, a little scared of being left alone, but confident that her companion would protect her. Naught else to be heard but the rustling of chocos in the nearby stall, and the coals burning fiercely in the coldest of night so not to anger the spirit of the woods..It was a Gridania's tradition and teaching that it was forbidden to burn twigs and branches, lest the woods wrath would awaken in anger...nonetheless, the coals did not bring warmth or courage to the young lady.Alone she was...Naught else to be seen outside except the fog chilled night and eerie bloody moon, and even dalamud's evil glare seems to portend an evil omen.

The silhouette of her parents faded in the night as the girl anxious and nerve wrecked, picked up her favorite book. A book filled with tales of horrors and fears. Stories of ghouls, and goblins, of witches, and demons in the Dark Hold. Stories that would not quicken the faint of heart but that would leave one's face without color, white as snow... stories written of adventurers who had met their untimely end by fate and by evil's embrace . "Why should I be afraid?" says the girl"I have read many scary stories of the twelve woods and yonder but they were all false and lack character said the girl. Surely they are all make believe, nothing but choco pie."Surely, what the dunes folk and elder says are not true. Murderous gob and walking skeletons? Rabble dash! Mom has always told me not to waste my time with frivolous reading, but I cant help it". But unbeknownst to her, her young heart betrayed her...Of all the stories she has read...none would terrify her the most but the story of the night blood Gob...merciless, sinister and dark. A stalker of young damsel.

"Nothing will happen to me while mom and Dad is gone.And besides my faithful dog is by my side. "says the girl. Happy and cheerfully her companion licked the young girl's hand which had always brought her comfort and peace. I should head to bed" thought the girl. Mom and dad will be back by the time I wake up. "Lets go, shadow!" Her companion licked the girls hand. She smiled and prepared for bed. The dog layed underneath the choco feather filled mattress. The girl with pillow under head reached below her bed to receive her dog's affection. Her heart once more at peace now drifted to sleep. But at long last the sweet sleep had left her. The lass awoken to a strange sound. "What is that she thought?" The sound of dripping water. May hap a little leak in the restroom. The girl let out her hand. "Hey shadow, you awake? A lick of comfort she received from under her mattress. Once more at peace, the young girl drifted off to sleep... but awoken not long after to the same sound. "I'm too tired to get up." "Shadow, we cant get any good sleep can we? Another lick of love she received from under her bed.

Asleep again... the lass awoken once more but in need of the restroom. She crept quietly as possible as not to disturb her sleeping dog. She opens the door and horror of horror filled her eyes. Blank stare and skipped heart . Is what I see real? Is what I see a dream? A nightmare it must be...She sees her dog companion hung on a rope, bleeding, and dead. But what scared her most was not the sight of her once beloved companion but what was written on the mirror. written in blood, it says "Gobs can lick too...."

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The above two post are one and the same. I had a difficult time getting the host site to display the image. The top being the story "Gobs can lick too" and the image below it.

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Mr. Padman was a lalafell, and like every lala, he loved to eat cookies. Often he will find a row of cookies to eat on the roads every day. By eating each cookie, he’ll get 10 points each.
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One day, he went to a dark Ul’dahian night club to look for more cookies. He met Miss Padman, a lalafell too. Even though it’s pretty dark over there, by sharing the cookie-eating stories, they had a great evening. Then, they had several good dates afterward at Ul’dahian night club. Miss Padman was a pretty lala with makeup. She’s also a good dancer, too.
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A good life of Mr. Padman, found cookies on the streets and had a girlfriend, angered bunch lala ghosts. So, all the lala ghosts came out of the lala ghost house and try to eat Mr. Padman. Mr. Padman just kept running... but also didn’t forget to eat all the cookies on the road when he passed some… Mr. Padman just kept running and running, but finally he ran to the corner, and there was nowhere out. While in desperated, he said goodbye to all his beloved cookies and did a final prey. He knew he was going to become another lala ghost. However, the cookie god showed up suddenly.

“Son, eat this cookie will give you superior power that you can eat lala ghosts for 200 points each,” cookie god told Mr. Padman.
Then, cookie god gave Padman a giant cookie.
“But, it will only last for 15 seconds!” cookie god warned Padman and disappeared in the dark corner.

Mr. Padman ate the giant god cookies and started chasing the ghosts. Padman successfully ate one. The lala ghost just taste like even better giant cookies. The point he got from eating a lala ghost worth more than 20 street small cookies. Most of the lala ghost saw the Padman with special cookie god’s power will start to run from Padman immediately.

Another day, Padman ran into the corner while lured lots lala ghosts chased after him in a bright summer morning. Padman quickly grabbed another giant god cookie and got ready to eat more lala ghost. Most of the ghosts ran away only one of the white one ran to him, and calling Mr. Padman’s name.

“Ha! Must be a noob ghost!” then Padman don’t even think twice and ate it.
“Wait! This one taste differently…” Padman spit out his new prey and double checked again.


“Oh no! it’s not a lala ghost! Rahhh~~” Padman yelled and turned away and did something mystery…


“It’s Miss Padman without makeup!” Padman said after vomited…
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“What have I…. raaa…” /vomit. “… done!” Padman cried out loud.


Mr. Padman killed one of his own source of happiness by his craving of cookies/points…

Some said Miss Padman’s ghost still wondering around in the world. It’s not because she died in the horrible accident. It’s because the ghost guards of the lala ghost house were not sure she was a ghost or no since she didn’t have makeup when she died, and she really looked more "special" than other lala ghosts. There were lots witnesses claimed they seem to meet Miss Padman’s ghost in the Ul’dahian night club because they saw some horrible ones next to them in next morning when it’s brighter.

However, no one can confirm with that…

Be aware in the dark, my friends…

Be aware…

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Have you ever heard of The Crimson Wrath? No?
Well, according to the legend, The Crimson Wrath was a vicious individual who lived in the Black Shroud many centuries ago. He used to wreck havoc in the Black Shroud and its surroundings by using fragments of Dalamud, so the legend says. What are those fragments of Dalamud you say? Well, unfortunately, the legend doesn't say much beside the fact that those fragments of Dalamud gave birth to a new calamity that is still among us today.

It is no mere coincidence that I am bringing up this story. You should have heard these words before: "Heavens spew crimson flame, hells seep black dooms." With Dalamud growing closer and trashing the land with meteors, Atomos releasing hundreds of vile creatures, there is no doubt that the Seventh Umbral Era is upon us. In addition to the disasters we are facing already, there is one more that makes me shiver above all else. The Crimson Wrath is back and he is here, in La Noscea!

Four days ago, I was on my way to this very hamlet of Wineport when I stumbled on an adventurer half dead on the side of the road. Normally, I would have left him to rot, but in these tough times we all need to help one another. I carried him all the way here and two days later, when he woke up, he started blabbering nonsensical words about bloody red pearls and a shadowy figure. I figured from this what had happened to him.

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The poor man was attacked at night by a man donning a red cloak reeking putrefaction. According to the victim, the man first enticed him to walk to a nearby shadowy cave by casting a strange spell. Then, all of a sudden a swarm of bloody red pearls hovering low above the ground appeared and in the blink of an eye overwhelmed our poor fellow. I don't know what saved him, but I can assure you that it was sheer luck.
A red cloak, strange red pearls... there is no doubt in my mind, it is The Crimson Wrath and the fragments of Dalamud!

I have proofs that he was telling the truth in his delirium. I have found an old mouldy red string on the garb of the victim, it has to be from the red cloak of The Crimson Wrath. But wait, there is more. The legend says that The Crimson Wrath's shadow was always reflected in fires when he was near... and I think we are next, look at the campfire.

http://static2.finalfantasyxiv.com/a...UzHaqtB8Dk.jpg

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Spoilers, since the story is finished. Click:

Fragments of Dalamud (the eyes)
Strange enticing spell
The nearby cave
The Crimson Wrath with the fragments of Dalamud (the eyes!)