#gibrillont

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2023, Prompt 19: Weal

Firesday nights in the Forgotten Knight was always a busy day, but today, the place was bursting to the seams with people. Perhaps Gibrillont shouldn't have been so surprised; word of some sort of secret project the Temple Knights were a part of that took everyone out to Cartineau Flats a few nights ago began to spread. Still, this flood of templars combined with his usual Firesday night crowd made a busy night even busier.

Lucia was among this crowd of Temple Knights, standing in a corner by herself, nursing her drink with a contemplative look on her face. She knew, of course, that these knights were the victors in a harrowing battle against lunar primals and tempered Garleans; the ones that weren't here were either resting in the hospital or resting in a morgue. Regardless, despite distancing from everyone in the pub, the last place she wanted to be was in her quarters alone. After spending the last few days alone, she needed to be near people.

She heard the doors upstairs swing open and saw who climbed downstairs. Dia approached the bar and pretended to complain, "Can't jump downstairs with this crowd, Gibrillont."

"Thank the Fury. I hate when you do that."

Dia laughed mischievously.

"Look at this place! As if I ain't busy enough, I've got Temple Knights, the city guard, my usual drunken sods, those godsdamned Skybuilders from the Firmament, and now you're here."

"Do you just not like money?"

"Money's great; work ain't."

"Well, I've got terrible news for you: you're about to make more money."

"What do you want then?"

"Your bread recipe, but since it seems you're taking that to your grave", she turned around to face as many people as possible, then yelled loudly, "a round on the house for everyone in the pub!"

The whole of the pub cheered loudly, with the exception of Lucia, who simply watched the revelry and gave a calm smile. Only Gibrillont seemed unhappy with this, but he accepted that he signed up for this when he took this job. "What's got you in a bright mood, or with the coin for the matter? You chose a hell of a night to try that."

"I got really lucky during a treasure hunt today. Figured I'd share my luck a bit."

"Lucky me", Gibrillont sighed, albeit with a slight smile on his face. "Gimme a bit- gotta prep a metric tonze of alcohol."

"Take your time."

Gibrillont began his preparations while the patrons started gathering at the bar. Lucia remained, however, especially as she barely made her way through her first drink. This made her an obvious sight for Dia, who's eyes brightened up at the sight of her. "Commander Lucia!" Dia called happily before sauntering to her.

Lucia gave a small smile, despite being rather happy she didn't have to be the one to initiate a discussion tonight. "How are you? Feels like I haven't seen you since...you know."

The commander laughed mildly. "Of all the people I can think of, I think you've earned the right to simply call me 'Lucia'."

"You sure? Even in front of your knights?"

"Quite sure, though I appreciate your thoughtfulness in the matter."

Dia nodded. "Very well." She turned to face the same direction as Lucia. "You picked a good corner for simple observation. You've got the downstairs staircase to the Brume on your right, the whole of the bar is here in plain sight. You can really keep an eye on everything."

"Such is why I stand here every time." Lucia turned to face Dia and asked, "Forgive me if this sounds as if I'm ungrateful for your presence, but I presumed you would have returned to Lord Aymeric."

"Normally, I would, but he's got himself holed up in his office. If he's there past midnight, however, I'll fetch him myself."

Lucia smiled amusedly. "I may join you. He should rest after that."

"I couldn't agree with you more. At any rate, I didn't expect the crowd. I should have expected this, really."

"Everyone in here deserves it. Those that aren't also deserve it."

Dia couldn't help but notice a tinge of regret in her voice. "How are you, by the way? You didn't seem to answer my question before I moved onto another topic. My mistake."

Lucia's face returned to the same contemplative look. "I was ruminating on something I was told earlier today."

"Oh?"

"Something that I fear I can't say with this many people."

"...do you want to talk about it, Lucia?"

"...yes, but I fear I'd need to find privacy."

"You know, I've a charm for that."

"Privacy?"

Dia nodded. "I have a charm that can make it so only you and I can hear what we say to one another. Would that help?"

"...you scare me sometimes."

"Can't believe that's what gets you", Dia joked.

"Very well. Do what you need to do."

"It's already done."

Lucia's eyes widened. "But you've done nothing."

"I gave a little flick of the wrist. If you need proof, watch this." Dia cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "Maelstrom can bury the Temple Knights any day of the week!"

No one responded.

"Not even a head turn", Lucia remarked in amazement.

"They can't hear it. So, what's going on?"

Lucia took a breath. "Lord Aymeric has asked me to lead a contingent of people into Garlemald."

Dia's jaw dropped. "Spinner help me, he's actually doing that? That's career suicide!"

"He told you?"

"He told me he had an idea to do that. I told him it'd be a nice idea, but I didn't think he'd go through with it. Oh gods, I hope it doesn't backfire on him."

"I'm unclear. Are you in support of this idea or no, Dia?"

"After what we saw in Cartineau, I'm inclined to help them before things get worse. That said, I know people do not like Garleans. I'm not even a big fan of them...present company excluded, of course. And Cid. And Maxima. And...I can tolerate Nero, I suppose. I can't get into how I feel about Gaius."

"Gaius van Baelsar?"

"Just Baelsar now. Long story."

"One I would like to hear another time", Lucia commented.

"But isn't it nice? You get to go home, in a sense."

Lucia shook her head. "My life was solely dedicated to gathering information, and I'm afraid that much hasn't changed after swearing my services to Lord Aymeric. I've heard news come in about the state of Garlemald."

"And?"

She frowned. "It's all but destroyed..."

"What?"

"The tempered have ravaged the place. Innocents have taken to hiding wherever they can, but more and more fall under thrall of the tower every day. I return not to my home, but to a shell of itself. I return to wreckage and ruin."

Dia frowned. She took a deep breath to center her thoughts. "But isn't that why it's a good thing a contingent is being developed? Even if it ends up being woefully unsupported, as I half expect it to be, that's still quite a few people coming to help. Means there's yet something to be saved. And though it won't be the homecoming you expect, you'll be responsible for the future of the place. You get to help make the home Garlemald deserves, not whatever an Ascian decided should be its course."

Sure, that Ascian saved my life. He's still an arse.

"I suppose so. I'm afraid that does little to comfort the thought of my immediate arrival."

"What are you thinking?"

"Though I would make the same decision I made those years ago, this changes naught of my betrayal. I will be seen as a traitor by my countrymen. I will be seen as a murderer of my people. None will look at me and believe me a safe presence. And I can't say I blame them either."

"Yes, I can't say I expected anything less than a narrow viewpoint from Garlemald, of all places. Still, you have something they don't."

"And what would that be?"

"Insight. Leadership experience. Sure, they'll probably think you akin to an animal at first glance, but you're in a unique position where you can use what it is you've learned and turn the tide of public opinion. Especially once we stop the tempering and get the disparate legions sorted out, I think you'll be able to change minds quicker and more effectively than you think."

Lucia smiled. "I appreciate your optimism."

"It's rare I have it", Dia laughed. "Aside from your own skills, Eorzea has a lot to offer. It's got a bounty of food, plenty of skilled artisans, plenty of coin to share, and more. If you've got a contingent of Eorzeans with you, ready and willing to share the prosperity of the land, and not the way Solus liked to 'share prosperity', I think you'll do fine."

Lucia's smile seemed to grow brighter. "I'm glad someone here has some faith in this."

"I'm in too good of a mood to not. Now will that help you stop nursing your drink? You should get a drink while I've got the free round for everyone. You should celebrate the victory here, too."

"Perhaps in time, I'll feel more like to lend myself to celebration. I will finish my drink, however."

Dia grinned.

"Grab your bloody drink, Dia!" Gibrillont yelled.

The two turned to the bar. "I'm trying to have a moment here!" Dia yelled back jokingly.

"I'll pour this drink down the abyss outside if you don't grab it! You did this to me!"

Dia rolled her eyes. "Fine!" She told Lucia, "Let me grab my drink and come back to you. I've been wanting to speak with you more."

"As have I. Seems like a fine night to try."

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #lucia goe junius #f elezen wol #gibrillont #fanfiction #i honestly don't know how far in advance she would have known about this #but it's my canon and i make the rules

[chatty-moogle]

Final Fantasy XIV Sidequest Guide: Heavensward Edition

When looking up which of FFXIV's many many sidequests were worth doing, I found that most of the lists were heavily focused on the rewards rather than whether the sidequest itself was interesting or added to the overall game experience. So I decided to make a guide myself :)

The sidequests listed here are selected based on their story, or their contribution to the worldbuilding or lore. CTRL+F for the relevant location (e.g. "Coerthas Western Highlands", or "Falcon's Nest"), take a look at the blurbs to see whether they appeal to you, and have fun!

This section is for the Heavensward sidequests, since that's where I started this whole project~ Click below for details!

Note: unlike A Realm Reborn, each settlement will have sidequest chains with a bit more effort put into them, as flagged by the quest pop-up notice having a cutscene screenshot (similar to the more significant MSQs). If you want to get a feel for a place but don’t have the time or inclination to do a lot of sidequests, I’d recommend doing those ones first – though note that they can definitely get quite long! I’ll refer to these as “flagged” below, for clarity.

Ishgard

Like previous cities, Ishgard has a number of sidequests to flesh out the city and get newcomers exploring. Here are some of the better (or at least more informative) ones.

(Foundation – The Forgotten Knight) Gibrillont ~ “Drinking the Pain Away” (Lvl 50) – a story which highlights the extent of Ishgard’s religious dogma, particularly the disastrous effects an accusation of heresy can have on a household

(The Pillars – Fortemps Manor) Torsefers ~ “Dinner for Four” (Lvl 50) – a delivery run on behalf of House Fortemps to the three other High Houses of Ishgard; highlights the connections and rivalries between the Houses

(The Pillars – The Jeweled Crozier) Mathye ~ “Landing a Stable Job” (Lvl 50) – leads you to the Lightfeather Proving Grounds, and gives some context to the culture around chocobos in Ishgard. Not terribly exciting

(Foundation – Aetheryte Plaza) Fury-fearing Elezen ~ “Remembering Ishgard” (Lvl 50) – a tour of some of the locations in Ishgard; outlines lore behind the statues gracing Saint Reinette’s Forum and Saint Valeroyant’s Forum. Not very exciting, but lore-lovers might want to check it out.

(The Pillars – The Jeweled Crozier) Mathye ~ “Landing a Stable Job” (Lvl 56) – leads you to the Scholasticate, and demands a rare bit of simple puzzle-solving

Coerthas Western Highlands

There aren’t a huge amount of sidequests here compared to the other regions, and the pace of them unlocking is not too overwhelming. If you want to give the main story just to give a bit more flavour and context, I’d recommend doing the five already-unlocked sidequests in Falcon’s Nest (+ The Anvil) before progressing with MSQ “At the End of Our Hope” near the end of the Artoirel questline.

Falcon’s Nest

Sigan’s questline (flagged); starts with Auriaune ~ “Stolen Goods” (Lvl 50) – the first quest isn’t all that interesting, but the questline overall deals with how there used to be a village at Falcon’s Nest before the Calamity struck, and how that is being dealt with now

(Not in Falcon’s Nest) Bohemondas “Homesick” (Lvl 51) – a story about a father and son who lived at Falcon’s Nest before the Calamity, and who have rather different viewpoints on its current state. Note that the questgiver is not based in Falcon’s Nest, but in Ishgard, specifically Foundation (X:9.5, Y:10.3)

The Convictory

Saintrelmaux’s questline (flagged); starts with Dominiac ~ “The Secret to Success” (Lvl 51) – this questline does give a bit of insight into life at the Convictory, as well as into Ishgardian high society. But more than anything it’s just a nice story about someone who, in learning more about dragons to hunt them, learns more about himself

Bonifoix ~ “Remember the Fallen” (Lvl 56) – about the sole survivor of a dragon-hunting expedition; a rare illustration of the dangers faced by the Convictors

Margyt and Ayleth’s questline (flagged); starts with Margyt ~ “Unknown Ultimatum” (Lvl 56) – initially a tale of revenge, but it doesn’t go the way you’d expect; this questline also touches upon into the otherwise-unexplored internal politicking and hierarchies at the Convictory. Honestly, I’m not sure whether to recommend this questline as it seems to undermine the ending of Saintrelmaux’s questline, and some plot points are frustratingly gendered (one of the characters is a female dragon-hunter unhappy about not being given opportunities by her male boss, but the story ends with her becoming his loyal subordinate, accepting that it’s better for her to be in a supporting position)

Other

(Located at Falcon’s Nest) Ingaret ~ “Grandfather’s Belongings” (Lvl 50) – gives a little more insight into pre-Calamity Camp Riversmeet area

(Located at the Anvil) Ysaudore ~ “Dances with Wolves” (Lvl 50) – pairs well with “Protecting What’s Important”, as it gives the Ishgardian view of Camp Riversmeet. Note that the questgiver is based at the Anvil (X:26.5, Y:27.9)

(Located at the Convictory) Wealdtheow ~ “For All the Nights to Come” (Lvl 51) – apart from being a must-play due to its completion being necessary to unlock flying in the region, this quest also contains the surprisingly elaborate backstory behind the Dusk Vigil, a tale which leans into the vicious politics of Ishgard

(Located at Falcon’s Nest) Well-mannered Widow ~ “Flower Mill” (Lvl 51) – explains the story behind Gorgagne Mills

(Located at Falcon’s Nest) Troubled Elezen ~ “The Old Man and the Lake” (Lvl 56) – about a man trying to persuade his uncle to move to Falcon’s Nest, away from his house in the middle of nowhere. Best when paired with “When the Ice Melts” (see below), which gives the other’s point of view

(Located at Oakum Landing) Emont ~ “When the Ice Melts” (Lvl 56) – a little vignette about the uncle of “The Old Man and the Lake”, who continues to live out by the frozen lake even after the Calamity. Note that the questgiver is based at Oakum Landing (X:36.4, Y:9.9)

The Dravanian Forelands

There’s a huge amount of sidequests in this area that unlock quite close together (nearly fifty, double that of the Coerthas Western Highlands)! As such, I would definitely recommend doing the minimum to unlock flying (i.e. collecting all the Aether Currents) in the region and maaaybe doing the flagged quest chains before proceeding with the other sidequests. In general, I found the Loth ast Vath and Anyx Trine sidequests more interesting than those at Tailfeather, as the former give you insight into the Vath and the dragons while the latter will feel quite familiar to anyone who’s done the Botanist or Carpenter job quests, or sidequests in the Shroud. If you’re picky, I’d say that the Anyx Trine sidequests are the most worth doing – many of them are cute and give more emotional weight to Ysayle’s position.

Tailfeather

Q’yantaa’s questline (flagged); starts with Loupard ~ “I Wanna Be the Hunter” (Lvl 52) – a tale of a young Miqo'te starting out as a chocobo hunter, and her trials in finding a suitable hunting buddy. One of the weaker flagged quest chain stories IMO, but the very first quest “I Wanna be the Hunter” is worth doing for the insight into the life of a chocobo hunter

Marcechamp ~ “Some Bad News” (Lvl 52) (Aether Current) – gives a little context on how the camps in the Chocobo Forest connect together and Tailfeather’s role as the central hub in the region

(Not in Tailfeather) Guanaret ~ “Why Does the Caged Bird Sing” (Lvl 52) – insight into a chocobo hunter’s everyday life, and one of the key tenets of chocobo hunting. Note that the questgiver is not based in Tailfeather, but at one of the camps (X:39.5, Y:21.7)

Remaclon ~ “What Remaclon Saw” (Lvl 52) – gives a bit of context to the ruins in the Chocobo Forest, and the typical Ishgardian perspective on it. Gives more flavour to the main story if you do this before MSQ “Mourn in Passing”, as it contrasts with Ysayle’s explanation

Hervoix’s questline (flagged); starts with Hervoix ~ “Getting a Legtrap Up” (Lvl 57) – following on from the tale of eager young hunter Q’yantaa is that of a wannabe hunter who shirks his duties, bristling at the menial tasks that his mentor gives him. (This is also a good illustration of what residents of Tailfeather busy themselves with, outside actual chocobo-hunting.) Eventually dovetails nicely with Q’yantaa’s story

Loth ast Vath

(Not in Loth ast Vath) Nonmind Drone ~ “Awakened” (Lvl 53) – a good illustration of how the Vath differ from the earlier beast tribes, in that Vath are not simply “the one good tribe” of that species but rather those of that species who separate from a larger whole. Shows Loth ast Vath’s importance as a sanctuary for nonmind Gnath. Note that for obvious reasons the questgiver is not based in Loth ast Vath, but at the Gnath Stronghold (X:31.8, Y:38.6)

Astute Vath ~ “Advanced Vathematics” (Lvl 53) – following on from “Awakened”, this sidequest illustrates how the line between Vath and Gnath is much more blurred compared to other beast tribes

Vath Storyteller ~ “The Naming of Vath” (Lvl 50) (unlocks Vath Beast Tribe Quests) – similar to “Awakened”, this quest deals with a newly-turned Vath developing a sense of identity, but is a bit more fleshed out and elaborates a bit on the interaction between Gnath, Vath, and the chocobo hunters. Results in a visual change to Loth ast Vath, which is cool! Note that it only unlocks after getting to a certain point in the main story (MSQ Lvl 53).

The Hungerer and Cibleroit’s quests; starting with “Low-hanging Fruit” and “To Each His Own” (both Lvl 52) – a few simple sidequests which do a good job illustrating the difference between Vath and Gnath. Also, the two of them are cute <3

Anyx Trine

Kal Myhk’s questline (flagged); starting with Gullinkambi ~ “When Mother Calls” (Lvl 53) – as a story about the WoL becoming friends with a young dragon, this would already be cute enough, but it’s also a good illustration of the how human-dragon relations were in the past and how they have been soured by the Dragonsong War. Definitely recommended for those who want to add a little more emotional context to the main story, as this gives players an opportunity to really understand where Ysayle is coming from in terms of dragons and humans being able to live in harmony

Toh Y Thrah’s questline; starts with “How to Feed Your Dragon” (Lvl 53) – you help a baby dragon try out some delicacies. The first two sidequests aren’t too exciting, though they do tell you what dragons like to eat if you’re interested, but the third and last one (“A Taste of the Peculiar”) is surprisingly sweet

Ess Khas ~ “A Lesson in Humility” (Lvl 53) (Aether Current) and “Back in the Game” (Lvl 53) – a cute set of sidequests about an old dragon trying to teach his sons humility

Indomitable Wyvern ~ “Blunders in Dragonsitting” (Lvl 53) – a cute story about a dragon looking out for his younger brother (also a dragon)

Sea of Clouds

I personally didn’t find the sidequests in the Sea of Clouds all that interesting; in particular, they don’t flesh out Camp Cloudtop or the Rosehouse beyond what can be gleaned from MSQ dialogue or talking to the NPCs. The Zundu’s sidequests generally weren’t as interesting as the ones for non-human questgivers in the Dravanian Forelands, either.

The Rosehouse

Gildon’s questline (flagged); starts with Gildon ~ “Bargaining Chip” (Lvl 50) – about a man eager to motivate the decidedly unmotivated troops posted to the quiet Camp Cloudtop and Rosehouse, but whose passion is mistaken for foolishness (sometimes correctly). One of the weaker flagged questlines in Heavensward, but the humorously hostile dynamic between Gildon and Camp Cloudtop provisioner Fabrellet is one of the more fleshed out amongst the expansion’s town NPCs

(Not in Sea of Clouds) Hyur on Hard Times ~ “Looking to the Future” (Lvl 51) – somewhat unexpectedly, minor NPC Marielle has a bit of a backstory. Note that the questgiver is based in Ishgard’s Foundation (X:12.5, Y:10.9)

(Not in Sea of Clouds) House Haillenarte Knight ~ “Honoring the Past” (Lvl 56) – goes a bit into some history regarding House Haillenarte, including Laniatte of the Rosehouse’s background. Note that the questgiver is based in Ishgard’s Pillars (X:11.5, Y:10.9)

Ok’Zundu

Gunu Vanu’s questline (flagged); starts with Guna Vanu ~ “Flying the Nest” (Lvl 57) – an amusing tale of a Zundu far past the threshold of adulthood who, due to his laziness, has failed the coming-of-age trial eight times… and counting. Better to leave for when you’ve unlocked flying in the region

Sonu Vanu~ “On Wings of Vanu” (Lvl 57) – a no-combat quest which encourages flying about the area; gives context to the woven orb-like objects you may have seen hanging from some of the islands. Requires flying

(Not in Ok’Zundu) Zundu Intelligencer ~ “For Your Spies Only” (Lvl 57) – a glimpse into the Zundu’s espionage network, which is a fancy way of referring to the scout who monitor the Vundu up close. Note that the questgiver is not based at Ok’Zundu, but at (X:23.0, Y:19.8). Requires flying

Hinu Vali ~ “Returning What’s Ours” (Lvl 57) – gives some context on the tense history between the Zundu and Vundu

Aanu Vanu ~ “Winds of Ill Omen” (Lvl 57) – some lore titbits regarding Vundu totems, and the totems’ significance to the Zundu. IIRC flying is required

Churning Mists

The sidequest unlocks were paced a bit strangely here; the initial round that unlocks when you’re in the area for MSQ reasons is (relatively) manageable in number, though on the whole not that interesting. However, if you for some reason decide to return after a certain point in the MSQ, then you’ll find a ton of sidequests waiting for you… and even more, after you’ve completed that round. Many of the later sidequests are actually part of separate quest-chains, so if you plan on completing most of them, I’d definitely recommend pacing yourself and unlocking flying first.

Moghome

Mogleo’s questline (flagged); starts with Mogleo ~ “A Pebble for Your Thoughts” (Lvl 54) – a cute little tale about a young moogle who dreams of joining the Pomsguard, and his adventures in helping other moogles across the Churning Mists

Mogomo ~ “Nut Job” (Lvl 54) – gives a little insight into life at Moghome; you get to pick kupo nuts!

Pomguard questline (flagged); starts with Mogloo ~ “Protecting the Pom” (Lvl 55) – follows Mogkul, second-in-command of the Pomguard, and his attempts to protect Zenith along with his fellow moogle soldiers. Outlines the arrangement between the moogles and Hraesvelgr, but isn’t particularly interesting as a story. I’m also not keen about how the sole female member of the Pomguard is portrayed as weak and easily-frightened compared to her male peers, especially when there are so few female moogles in the first place

(Not in Moghome) Maenne’s questline (flagged); starts with Unflinching Temple Knight ~ “Into the Mists” (Lvl 56) – a very by-the-numbers look at the work of the dragoon scouting party; basically, you do the entire squad’s work for them. I’d largely skip the story if you do this quest chain (it’s necessary for unlocking the moogle dailies), but the last quest “Laying the First Brick” puts a nice cap on the moogles’ attempts to preserve the ruins in the Churning Mists. Requires flying. Note that the questgiver is posted outside House Fortemps’ manor in Ishgard (X:11.4, Y:11.0)

Twelveswood moogle questline (flagged); starts with House Fortemps Knight ~ “Moogles in the Sky” (Lvl 59) – a story about some Twelveswood moogles who want to visit Moghome. This quest chain is a must-play for anyone interested in moogle lore, as it goes into the cultural differences between the Twelveswood and Moghome residents, as well as their shared ancestral history! But be prepared to spend a lot of time flying all over the Sea of Clouds – it’s to the point where those not interested in moogles may want to give this one a miss. Requires flying. Note that the questgiver is posted outside House Fortemps’ manor in Ishgard (X:11.4, Y:11.0)

Other

(The Monsterie) Mercurial Moogle’s questline; starts with Mercurial Moogle ~ “I Won't Leaf You Behind” (Lvl 55) – a set of three quests about a moogle trying to find herbs to help his sick friend; apart from being heartwarming, it also offers some insight into moogle medicine. Requires flying IIRC. Note that the questgiver is based in the Monsterie (X:34.1, Y:16.0)

(Tharl Oom Khash) Tharl Oom Khash questline; starts with Malingering Moogle ~ “Unwanted Attention” (Lvl 55) – a set of four quests about the moogle research expedition working at the ruins of Tharl Oom Khash (note that the first quest seems very unrelated). There is a lot of flying up and down trying to find the quest objectives, which can be annoying, so I’d mainly recommend this questline to those who are particularly interested in the ruins dotting the region, or in dragon culture. Requires flying. Note that the questgiver is based near Tharl Oom Khash ((X:17.4, Y:11.2)

The Dravanian Hinterlands & Idyllshire

Most of the sidequests in this region actually originate in Idyllshire rather than out in the field, but note that like the Dravanian Hinterlands themselves, the sidequests are unlocked in two phases – first, those that mainly concern the Eastern Hinterlands, and second, those involving the Western Hinterlands. Clearing all the sidequests is not too overwhelming if you do them as they come up (i.e. finish the first set before unlocking the Answering Quarter), but it’s probably quite painful to clear all at once post-Heavensward. Personally, I found that the first set of quests were generally better at fleshing out Idyllshire, but the real stars of the show are the three flagged questlines – two linked ones from Idyllshire, and the one at Matoya’s Cave – definitely focus on these if you can’t be bothered with the rest!

Idyllshire

Slowfix’s questline (flagged); starts with Slowfix ~ “The Pick of the Bunch” (Lvl 58) – about Slowfix’s leaderly struggles in setting up the administrative systems required to run a city; a classic tale of idealism versus practicality. Only this time, the story takes a rather more corporate bent – it’s definitely recommended if you feel strongly about policies and procedures (whether that feeling is positive or negative!). The questgiver is at X:7.0, Y:6.0

Midnight Dew ~ “Community Service” (Lvl 58) – gives a sense of everyday life at and the community of Idyllshire. The questgiver is at X:5.5, Y:6.6

Loudjox ~ “A New Leaf” (Lvl 58) – touches upon what kinds of things goblins trade, including filling for their masks. The questgiver is at X:7.1, Y:7.2

Halfsix ~ “Ebb and Aetherflow” (Lvl 58) – illustrates how recycled Sharlayan technology is crucial to keep Idyllshire running. The questgiver is at X:7.5, Y:6.7

Holepix ~ “The Vangob Job” (Lvl 58) – shows how Sharlayan technology can be reverse-engineered and recycled in less than peaceful ways. The questgiver is at X:7.5, Y:6.7

Notched Bone & Dedean’s questline (flagged); starts with Midnight Dew ~ “The New Arrivals” (Lvl 58) – a thematic continuation of Slowfix’s story, this quest chain explores the ideals behind Idyllshire from a different perspective. It follows two new arrivals who – thanks to bad experiences in Ul’dah – are suspicious of everyone and everything

Other

(Matoya’s Cave) Saro Roggo’s questline (flagged); starts with Saro Roggo ~ “Saro Roggo's Common Life” (Lvl 59) – if you are going to play one quest chain in Heavensward, make it this one. About a self-doubting enchanted frog who fears for his place among Matoya’s familiars, this questline delivers a simple but affecting story, fun (if very simple) riddles to solve instead of the usual “fetch this, kill that” objectives, and gives players a little more insight into the into the excellent Matoya (whose screentime is all too brief!). Flying recommended

Azys Lla

Yes, the final dungeon area has a bunch of sidequests while you wait for the duty to pop (though that’s no longer relevant thanks to NPC support). Unfortunately, said sidequests don’t do much to flesh out the area beyond what you can already learn – or infer – from the MSQ dialogue; there’s only one which might be of interest to lore-lovers. If you’re intent on doing the sidequests regardless, I’d highly recommend progressing with the MSQ first anyway as you’ll unlock all the necessary Aether Currents for flying by doing so.

(Gamma Quadrant) Auditing Node ~ “A Crude Facsimile” (Lvl 59) – touches upon the link between Allag and Garlean technology. The questgiver is based in the Gamma Quadrant (X:29.8, Y:37.6)

#final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv #ff14 #ffxiv heavensward #ffxiv hw #heavensward #eorzea #ishgard #game guides #recommendations #lore #worldbuilding #my writing

[elizabethrobertajones]

there is someone AFKing in the doors of the Forgotten Knight so they're just propped wide open letting in the cold air. I think Gibrillont should be allowed to kick you out after a few minutes standing in this location.

#ffxiv

[coldshrugs]

this fic is turning out much longer than i was expecting so i don't think i'll have much to show for it for Some Time. but i wanted to share a few things as a little boost :>

very into this description:

In an instant, Saint Valeroyant's Forum takes shape around her. Imposing spires of charcoal stone and metal meet the snow-bright sky above, but on the ground, folks pick their way around crumbling rock and rickety boardwalks. Half of Valeroyant still reclines against the edge of the fountain. Io assumes this courtyard was once elegant to behold, but in its current state, she sees only a fitting metaphor in the fallen statue: how much the nation demands of her soldiers, and the kind of rest they might find in their futures. The air is thicker in Foundation. Smoky, colder, and colored by the scents and sounds of the Forgotten Knight: brewing ale, smoked meats, and rowdy laughter. It is only midday and the tavern is already in full swing. She remembers staying in a dingy Cloud Nine room that was never quiet enough to rest soundly, but Gibrillont made sure she, Tataru, and Alphinaud were warm and fed. That was plenty, after what they'd fled. Nostalgia's inviting whisper almost pulls Io into the tavern... but a soldier clinks past, reminding her why she's here. She bears straight ahead, into the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly.

positioning edmont as a jerk lmao:

Io stares into the flames as she listens to him. His hospitality seemed freely given but she cannot help but recall something he said moons ago: 'How quickly we forget the petty nature of men. I'd wager your friends are no more than pawns in another of my countrymen's games. Such is the way of things between the High Houses...' House Fortemps is no different, she supposes.

then i'm trying out something of a written greek chorus/found "footage" thing that adds a little extra context here and there:

"–daresay it was one of the more awkward sessions of my career. The bride sat beautifully while her soon-to-be husband fidgeted, though I hear he is an energetic man with a racing mind. They did converse during the sitting, as well-acquainted friends; his lordship is a veritable jester and his humor seemed to keep his lady at ease. I had been told they were a love match. Alas, I would liken the flame between them to a bedside candle instead of the roaring fire usually found in the betrothed... " –Renowned portraitist Duremert, overheard while shopping in the Jeweled Crozier

"Ser Varlineau (as I am apparently expected to address you), Your arrival comes as the most delightful surprise. I expected you to stay away for far longer. I forgive you for not seeking me out, but I think you will enjoy the fact I've made a fool of myself in looking for you. Please do come see me. It's been too long. Your friend, Io" –A note found while cleaning the desk of Lord Commander of the Temple Knights.

finally. some angry flirting sjdfjkls:

She is a far more recognizable version of herself tonight. "How come you never sing to me, Gany?" she asks her bird. Ganymede responds only with huffs and chirps, his midnight feathers ruffling as if he finds the idea distasteful. Estinien watches her soothe him. "More keen to claw than sing, that one," Estinien says. She startles, whipping to face him, as deep and blue as the night around them. It only takes a moment for recognition, or memory, to warp her expression into a glare. "Something else you have in common with him." Io throws the cloak around her shoulders and fusses with a hasty knot. "I thought it might just be the pompous strutting." She's angry at him, yes, but she is still herself. Amusement tugs at his lips. "I don't strut."

#okay bye #i've got nearly 7k word in the last week and it's killing me not to share #i'm a <1.5k and post without editing girlie #but noooo i have to expand the fic writing skillset apparently #wip whenever #just to keep things tidy

[myreia]

Divergence of the Heart

CHAPTER TWO: THE NATURE OF THE BEAST

Chapter Rating: Mature (full story rating is Explicit) Characters: Aureia Malathar (WoL), Aymeric de Borel, Thancred Waters, Hilda Ware Pairings: Aureia/Aymeric, Aureia/Thancred, Thancred/Hilda Chapter Words: 4,788 Notes: Set during the Heavensward patches. Summary: Aureia Malathar may have made a name for herself in Ishgard, but her deeds come with a hefty personal toll. Despite her victories at the Grand Melee she has never felt more unsure of herself. Her relationship with Thancred—the person she thought knew her the best—is strained, yet she cannot abandon him. Aymeric is falling for her harder with each passing day, yet she cannot bring herself to accept it. All may be fair in love and war, but at least war is predictable. Love on the other hand… Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 Read on AO3 Avi’li Sostomi belongs to my dear friend @lilas!

When she reaches the Forgotten Knight, Aureia shoves the doors open and clatters down the stairs. Though the sound causes some heads to turn, the tavern quickly reverts to its drunken murmurings and clandestine conversations. She has always had an affection for Gibrillont’s establishment. The lighting is dark, the hearths warm, the food and drink good. She is rarely identified as the Warrior of Light here, blending in with crowds too drunk to recognize her. Here, everyone’s business is their own. Here, she is just another patron stepping in from the cold.

“Ah, Aureia!” Gibrillont nods in welcome, his hands occupied by cleaning out tankards with a worn rag. “I hear congratulations are in order—”

She rests her arms on the counter and leans into it. “No. Not in order. As far as I’m concerned, nothing of significance happened today.”

He pauses, regarding her with a knowing smile on his face. “Very well,” he says. “‘Tis but an ordinary day, with ordinary struggles.”

“And ordinary drinks,” she adds pointedly.

Gibrillont chuckles and stoops, resurfacing a moment later with a bottle. “Then perhaps this miraculous brew will serve you well, Mistress Malathar,” he says and slides it across the counter to her waiting hand.

Aureia eyes him—the honorific has not gone unnoticed—and hefts the bottle. Wine. Likely cheap, likely strong, and likely to give her a phenomenal hangover the next morning. “Thanks,” she grunts. The dark glass slips against her fingerless glove and she reacts quickly, tightening her grip before she drops it.

His eyes narrow. “I apologize if this is not my place,” he says carefully, picking up the rag and returning to cleaning tankards. “But I suspect this is not a celebratory drink.”

The nape of her neck prickles. Thoughts of Thancred race through her mind, jagged and raw. No matter how hard she tries to banish him, he lingers. Making a face, she yanks the cork out and downs a mouthful of wine. She coughs, the tart, heady scent clogging her nostrils, the fragrant flavour lingering on her tongue.

“There’s nothing to celebrate tonight, Gibrillont,” she says and slams a handful of gil on the counter. “I’m here to get drunk.”

Bottle in hand, Aureia forces her way through the crowd, searching for a table. The cacophony of a dozen conversations fills her ears. From the merchants to the off-duty Temple Knights to minor scions of lesser nobility, all are focused on one thing: the Grand Melee, the Alliance, and the Warrior of Light’s thrilling duel with General Raubahn.

Notably—at least to her—Sidurgu is absent from his usual post. He must have not wanted Rielle caught in the midst of all this revelry, not when there are so many Temple Knights around. The day they dispatched Ystride de Caulignot together is still raw in her mind. Though the church has changed, any number of her former allies or supporters could be among the knights’ numbers.

Aureia pauses in the centre, twisting left and right as she scans the room. “Seven hells,” she mutters, taking another swig. She is glad for their success, truly, she is. Aymeric was correct, this was the only way to incorporate Ishgard into the Alliance without upsetting the Holy See’s delicate internal politics. She hates to give it to him, but Thancred was right—Ishgardian pride has been the source too many of their difficulties. The whole nation is too arrogant for its own good.

And the last thing she needs now is a recount of her heroics on refrain.

Pushing her way through a cluster of loud-mouthed knights, she rounds the corner and flies down the stairs, disappearing into the lower level.

Aureia feels the change as she descends. Though Aymeric is doing his best to pave a way for a new future, dismantling a thousand years of tradition is not a feat accomplished overnight. The highborn and the lowborn still separate instinctively, and that divide could not be more palpable than in the Forgotten Knight. The hearths are dark, the rooms cramped, the floors and tables scratched. The air is mustier here, thick with the scents of the Brume. But the alcohol is strong, the patrons lively, and there is a sense of fierce, fearless freedom about this place that she has never found upstairs.

“Aw, c’mon, Avi, I had it that time!”

A familiar voice cuts through the din. Aureia pauses on the third step and scans the room, searching. Hilda sits slung in a chair, boots on the table, cards in her hand. A wrought iron lamp lies off to the side, its candle casting a warm glow over a collection of discarded plates and half-finished tankards. Her carbine rests against the wall behind her, its polished finishings glinting in the dim light.

A white-haired Miqo’te perches across from her, his tail curled casually around one of his stool’s legs. He holds his cards close to his face, eyes alight with an impish grin. “Looks like fortune says otherwise,” he says. “I win.”

Hilda harumphs and tosses her cards. “Cheater,” she snorts, grabbing her tankard. “You’re never this good.”

His ear twitches. “Or perhaps the sun has finally risen, understanding has dawned, and I am finally decent at Triple Triad,” he replies, rolling a card between his fingers. “Play enough and even the worst of us get better eventually.”

She eyes him over her tankard and takes a drink. “Or you cheated.”

“I did not.”

“Keep telling yourself that—”

The Miqo’te chortles and throws down his cards, forearms pressed against the table as he dissolves into a fit of laughter. Hilda coughs and lowers her tankard. Spotting Aureia from across the room, she balances it on her knee and raises a hand in greeting.

“I was just beginning to think I wouldn’t see you tonight,” she says casually, adjusting her feet as Aureia draws close. She gestures to her companion. “Avi’li, Aureia—Aureia, Avi’li. Don’t trust him, he cheats at Triple Triad.”

Avi’li’s mouth drops open. “I don’t cheat—” 

“Mhm. You’ll have to be more convincing than that.”

Avi’li flashes her a grin as she pulls up a chair. “Always good to meet a friend of Hilda’s,” he says, eyes flicking curiously from her to Hilda and back again. They narrow with that distinct inquisitiveness that comes over anyone who spots the two women together. “Pardon the intrusion, but you two aren’t—”

“No,” Aureia and Hilda say together.

It’s become a habit—if six separate incidents so far can be called a habit. From their similar colouring, heritage, and builds, it is easy for the indiscriminate eye to assume they are sisters. After all, how many ruby-eyed, black-haired women of mixed Hyur and Elezen parentage find their way to Ishgard? The truth of the matter is that their origins couldn’t be more different. But despite it, they are connected—if not by mutual experience, then by respect and solidarity. Hilda has been one of the few in Ishgard unafraid of her reputation and status. Her keen awareness and blunt honesty are a breath of fresh air in a nation who has alternatively seen her as a hero to be worshipped or a threat to be put down.

Aureia is forever grateful for it.

“I see you came prepared,” Hilda continues, eyeing the wine bottle as Aureia places her staff against the wall and throws herself into her chair. “You made a memorable display in the Grand Melee today. Tired of all the lordlings fawning over you, I reckon?”  

“Didn’t stay around for that,” Aureia replies, slouching down.

She regards her with an amused smile. “Abandoning Aymeric to field them for you? Now I feel sorry for the poor sod. I wonder how many propositions of marriage have landed on his desk in the past half-day.”

“None, if I have anything to say about it,” Aureia replies, raising the bottle to her lips. The wine is just as sour the second time as it was the first.

Hilda chuckles and shakes her head, her long, dark ponytail rippling down her back. “Don’t think you have a choice there, Aur,” she says grimly. “If you hadn’t won over the blue bloods yet, you’ve certainly done so today. More eyes are on you now than ever before.”  

She grimaces.

“If you wanted to avoid this mess entirely, you could have… I dunno… thrown the fight with that general bloke. But that would have led to quite an upset. Best not think on it now, eh?”

She grunts noncommittally into her bottle and takes another drink.

Hilda presses her lips together, eyes narrowed, and slowly unfurls. “Give us a moment here, huh, Avi?” she says, removing her feet from the table.

Avi’li glances at Aureia, his tail flicking quietly behind him. “Good to meet you, Aureia,” he says with a graceful bow. “See you around sometime, yeah?” Swiping his tankard from the table, he turns and threads his way through the crowd.

Hilda folds her arms across her chest. “Right,” she says as he disappears. “Now tell me what’s really going on. I ain’t seen you like this since Haurchefant passed.”

“Nothing,” Aureia replies, sipping on her bottle. “What’s wrong with wanting a drink?”

“Because you shouldn’t be drinking on your own after that display today!” Hilda grips her chair by the seat and drags it forward. The legs scrape horrifically as she shuffles it across the floor. “You should be celebrating. With your fellow Scions, the Ul’dahn delegation, or hells… why not Aymeric? You should have seen the look on his face when you disappeared. So, tell me—” She prods a finger into Aureia’s shoulder. “What in the seven hells are you doing down here with a bottle of Gibrillont’s worst wine, looking like the world just ended?”

Aureia lowers her bottle, chewing her lip as she stares absently at the flickering candle. “It’s nothing,” she says. “I’m tired. And someone who I thought was my friend may no longer…”

She trails off, the words catching painfully in her throat. Saying it now is as good as admitting it. She isn’t prepared for that—not yet. As furious as she is with Thancred, she sees too much of herself in him. He is struggling with something he refuses to voice, something she knows all too well. She should have seen it the moment he ran off after the cyclops on his own. It wasn’t that long ago that she was going through the same motions, taking off across Coerthas on her own, battling whatever monsters she could find alone and unprepared.

But Aureia had help when her luck ran out. Estinien tirelessly shadowed her as she stupidly threw herself into fight after fight, pulling her out when she encountered a foe she could not handle alone. Sid watched her back, his initial resentment and mistrust bleeding into hope and faith as they stood their ground against Rielle’s pursuers. Hells, she thought she foolishly thought she was alone when she came to Ishgard, but she was wrong. So impossibly wrong. Alphinaud and Tataru never gave up on her, even when she pushed them away. Even Ysayle—wonderful, relentless Ysayle who had risked so much and sacrificed all—came for her at the eleventh bell.

But Thancred has no one. He was fortunate today, scraping by with only a handful of minor wounds. If Y’shtola’s theory is correct and his aether is disrupted… How long will it be before he puts himself in a situation he cannot overcome?

Bastard, she thinks. Wherever you’re going, don’t you dare get yourself killed for this. I’ll never forgive you if you do. 

Hilda sighs irritably and plucks the bottle from her hand.

Aureia opens her mouth in protest. “Hey—”

Hilda sets it on the table and firmly pushes it out of the way. Twisting around, she grips her by the forearms and pulls her in. “Listen to me, Aur,” she says, staring her in the eye. “That friend of yours? Fuck them. If they’re making you feel this miserable, tell them to bugger off. You’re the bloody Warrior of Light, you don’t have many chances to catch a break. Good days are priceless where you’re concerned. Don’t let anyone ruin that for you.”

Aureia swallows hard. If only it were that easy… “I’m trying,” she says.

Hilda raises an eyebrow.

“I am,” she insists. “Give me my wine back.”

Hilda smirks. Swiping the bottle off the table, she digs her heels into the floor and pushes herself backwards, sending her chair scooting across the floor and out of reach. She leans back, one leg crossed casually over the other, and eyeing Aureia as she raises the bottle to her mouth and takes a long drink. Grimacing, she lowers the bottle and coughs into the back of her hand. “Yeah…” she says hoarsely, holding the bottle out. “That’s, uh… bad. Extremely bad. I’m gonna have to have a word with Gibrillont over how bad that is, aren’t I.”

Aureia snorts with laughter and retrieves the bottle, taking another swig. The tartness has begun to fade—or perhaps it’s turned her tongue numb. Looping a lock of hair behind her ear, she lounges in her chair and casts an eye around the tavern. The cacophony washes over her, the noise and commotion strangely soothing after the icy silence on the bridge.

Hilda retrieves her own drink. “If you want my advice, Aur—”

“Hmm… not particularly, no.”

She chuckles. “Too bad. I’m gonna give it to you anyway.”

Aureia makes a face.

Hilda shifts in her seat, her foot bouncing on her knee. “If I were you, I’d find someone to enjoy myself with,” she says. “Take the edge off, eh? Have a little fun. Don’t say it hasn’t occurred to you. Someone like you, with your standing and fame? You must have more than one suitor calling—”

Aureia flushes. “Not interested in that,” she says firmly.

“No?” She raises an eyebrow. “Not once? Not in all this time you’ve been in Ishgard? Surely someone here has caught your eye—”

“Not interested.”

“Not even that Auri fellow? The one upstairs with the girl following him around like a lost puppy?”

The description twists sharply on her gut. “Rielle isn’t a lost puppy. And Sid and I—”

“Oh ho?” Hilda raises an eyebrow, her smirk barely contained. “Never realized you were on first-name basis with those two. Is there something you ain’t telling me, or am I to figure it out for myself?”

Aureia rolls her eyes. “It’s not what you think.”

“No? He’s a handsome enough bloke, if you ask me—”

“Well, I’m not—”

“The only time I see that scowl wiped off his face is when you’re around.”

“Sidurgu and I are friends, that’s it. Besides, I said I wasn’t interested in all that and I meant it.”

Hilda shuts her mouth and raises her hands, silently indicating that the point has been made and understood.

Aureia sighs, rapping her fingers against the bottle. This is not an easy discussion to have—and certainly not now, certainly not here, certainly not with Hilda.

This isn’t about Sid. It’s not.  

She flushes at the thought and shoves it away, annoyed at her friend for making assumptions. There’s no point belabouring where she and Sid stand, they aren’t anything more than war comrades. Though there have been times when she has wondered differently. A casual touch here, a look there… She flushes remembering the scolding of the century he gave her after she threw herself in front of him and Rielle and took a temple knight’s blade to the gut. Bleeding out in the ass-end of Coerthas, turning bright snow to red sludge, while he cursed and swore and made her promise to never do anything so foolish again.

But even if it were different, would she even want to act on it? There’s a queasiness in her stomach whenever a subject like this is raised, a sense that something isn’t right with her. She envies how damn easy it is for others. It’s not about love—she knows what that feels like, and how intensely it can strike—but intimacy. It has always been a barricade, growing larger and more insurmountable with every passing year, not helped by her utter lack of interest in sex.

Sometimes she wonders if it’s too late for her. Even if her feelings on the matter have shifted in recent years, it’s easier to ignore it entirely than admit this humiliating truth.

“Point taken,” Hilda says finally. “I see why you like to drink now.”

Aureia grimaces, bristling at the tone. She shoves a hand into her seat and pushes herself upright. “I—”

A hand brushes her shoulder.

She reacts on instinct. Ripping free of its grasp, she throws herself out of her chair and falls into a defensive stance, hands raised, fingers curled. A messenger in silver and blue stares at her, mouth agape, fear in his eyes.

“Mistress Malathar?” he stammers. “I meant no offense—”

“Announce yourself properly next time,” she snaps, dropping her stance and folding her arms. “What do you want? Which House do you represent?”

“I… uh…” The messenger flushes and stares at his feet, still shaken. The Elezen must be relatively young. Though he is much taller than her, he is gangly and nervous. Oddly, he reminds her of Emmanellain. “May we speak upstairs? The message I bear is not for… well… certain ears.”

Aureia exchanges looks with Hilda. Despite recent advances, some things never change.

“Us lowborn, you mean?” Hilda offers, a dark look in her eye. “Are you that scared of the Brume, boy? You’re gonna have to work on that if you intend to remain a messenger for the Lord Commander.”

Aureia curses inwardly, taking in the messenger’s colours once again. Of course. Temple Knights… The messenger is from Aymeric. She’s had more to drink than she thought and she’s falling into foolishness.

“Seven hells,” Aureia mutters and ushers the boy forward. “Let’s talk upstairs.”

She guides him through the crowd to the foot of the stairs, then clambers up them two at a time. He follows, his armour clinking in her ears, and breathes an audible sigh of relief when they surface on the upper floor.

Leading him into a far corner, she takes up position with her back to the wall and crosses her arms. “Now, then,” she says brusquely. “What is this about?”

The messenger quickly salutes. “Mistress Malathar, I bear a message from Ser Aymeric.”

“Yes. I gathered that. What is it?”

“I… I don’t know. It is here.”

He proffers a letter, stamped and sealed with the insignia of House Borel.

Aureia takes it from his shaking hand, brow furrowed, and flips it over. Aymeric has written her many times, but always in an official capacity as Lord Commander of the Temple Knights. But now he’s using the insignia of his own house… This isn’t official. This is personal.

Her heart clenches. “Is that all?” she asks.

The messenger nods, bowing, and retreats. Aureia watches him go, rubbing the envelope’s luxurious parchment between her fingers, her mind racing. Though part of her wants nothing more than to race down the stairs and return to Hilda’s company and the comfort of her wine, curiosity has set her aflame.

Why the personal message? What does Aymeric want?

Chewing her lower lip, she tears the envelope open and unfolds the letter.

Aureia,    I am loathe to begin with “congratulations are in order” as I am certain you have heard that phrase far too much today. Nevertheless, it is true. This victory was more than a simple triumph in the heat of friendly combat. We have secured Ishgard’s position within the Alliance and safeguarded the course to her future. I cannot say how grateful I am for your involvement. Nor would I have wanted to be the one opposing you on the field of battle! Livia assures me that General Raubahn holds no grievance over the thrashing you gave him. I am told he was beaming with pride at his defeat and has requested a rematch the next time your travels bring you to Ul’dah.    I must apologize for conveying this within a letter. This conversation is ill-suited to the pen—one-sided even, as it leaves no opportunity for your immediate reply—but circumstances allowed us no time for proper conversation once the melee had concluded. Or perhaps I am merely accustomed to writing to you now, given how far your travels now take you from Ishgard.   You recall my somewhat mortifying request for a drink some nights ago? I would ask again. Perhaps more legitimately, this time, and with more grace and sincerity. I did not intend to put you on the spot with my words the last time, and yet I did. I do not begrudge the silence you gave me in return, I was, to put it quite frankly, a fool.    And so I ask again. Please, my dearest friend. Join me for an evening. It would be a delight to spend the night in your company.  

Aureia exhales slowly, staring blankly at the elegant script. A lump forms in her throat, her heart beating rapidly. Aymeric, as always, is far too kind to her. Too thoughtful, too genuine, too damn polite. She doesn’t know why he thinks so highly of her when she is prickly and disagreeable, no charm, no patience, all sharp edges. But their friendship has been tried and tested through more ordeals than she count this past year. He has been the one consistency through it all.

Once she thought it was Thancred who kept her grounded, but then the bloody banquet fractured the Scions and the man he was then is now gone forever. After her flight to Ishgard, Haurchefant was a shining beacon, as dear to her as the brother she never had—and now he is gone, cut down before her very eyes. Estinien was her source of strength in the dark days that followed, their rivalry softening to friendship over the course of their trials. He, too, is now gone, lost to Nidhogg’s rage.  

But Aymeric has remained a firm, resolute presence in her life.

She remembers that day in his office, when he blurted out his initial invitation. She was so shocked, she couldn’t even garble a reply, staring at him with her eyes wide, like a deer facing a hunter. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks not long after and she excused herself, passing through his door with her back perfectly straight, praying that he did not see the colour on her cheeks.

It was only after that she realized he intended it as a friend. A friend. Somehow, that only made her response all the more humiliating…

At least she knows he was as mortified as she was. She can take solace in the fact that they can be fools in equal measure.

Aureia folds the letter and stuffs it in her pocket. She needs to return to her room, write a reply… Or perhaps it would be faster to go to him herself? Then again, there is wine on her breath and she is still sweat stained from the melee. Better to write him. He doesn’t need to see her like this.

She is halfway to her room in the inn when she remembers her staff is on the lower levels. Cursing inwardly, she wheels around and hurries through the tavern, weaving in and out of the crowd. Clattering down the stairs, she makes beeline for her table—

Her staff is there, but Hilda is gone.

Aureia pauses, frowning in confusion as she retrieves her staff and straps it to her back. The messy collection of plates and tankards remain. Even her bottle of wine is there, now emptied. In the centre of the table, the lamp’s candle flickers from a pool of wax, burning down to the stub. Its light glints off Hilda’s carbine, left unattended against the wall. She must be here, somewhere… It’s not like her to forget her weapon.

Grabbing the carbine, she withdraws from the table and casts an eye around the premises. The floor is emptier than before, many of the patrons having found their way outside one way or another. Aureia rounds the tables, searching, but Hilda is nowhere to be found. And she wasn’t upstairs, either… Either she exited to the Brume or she’s elsewhere in the tavern. The Forgotten Knight is filled with pockets of odd space—knotted hallways leading nowhere, oddly-shaped rooms tucked away in the corners or beneath the stairs. There are plenty of places she could have gone. Patrons find their way to them for one reason or another.

Slipping through a door, Aureia paces down a tight, dark hallway, cradling the heavy carbine against her chest. Her throat is dry, her head is aching—she forgot to drink water and now the side-effects of Gibrillont’s miraculous brew raising their ugly heads. She blinks, ignoring her body’s complaints, and pushes on. She can’t leave now. She needs to find Hilda.

“…so you admit it, then?”

“Admit what?”

Voices echo through an open door. Droll and heady, drunk on too much wine and spirits.

“…and here I thought it would take more than that for you to say you felt some affection for me.”

“Affection? Please. Far too strong a word.”

Auriea’s heart leaps into her throat. She freezes in the shadows of the hall, floorboards creaking underfoot. Hilda and Thancred stand together in the adjoining room, their profiles illuminated by the dusty moonlight filtering through the narrow window. His arms are locked around her, pulling her into him. She tilts her chin, a playful smile on her lips, red eyes dancing wickedly. 

“You wound me, my lady,” he says, his lips brushing her cheek.

She smirks. “Not a lady.”

“To me you are.”

“Oh, please. Is that what you tell all the women in your life or did you truly expect a line like that to work on me?”

He kisses her, fierce and desperate. She melts into it, her fingers scraping the sides of his face, his jaw, pulling him into her. His fingers brush her ear, tentatively cupping the point, and thread through her hair. He releases it from its tail and the dark waves fall free, flowing over her shoulders and shadowing her face like a curtain. She chuckles huskily and shoves him back against the wall. He grunts and seizes her, lifting her up. She wraps her legs around him and allows him to spin them around.

Hilda pulls back from his kiss, face flushed and eyes wild, and scrapes her fingers through his hair. “You sure about this?” she asks huskily, lips pressed against his ear. “Don’t mistake me for her. Because I’m not.”

He freezes, his arms going stiff. “I am here for you. Only you.”

“Good. Just wanted to be clear—”

He kisses her, pinning her to the wall, his mouth on hers, still kissing, always kissing. She presses against him, her hands wandering, reaching, urgent, desperate—

Aureia tears her eyes away, cheeks flushed with the heat of anger and humiliation. She stoops, setting the carbine against the doorframe, and stalks down the hall. She doesn’t care if the floor creaks, if they hear her footsteps, if they know she was there. Chances are they never noticed. Chances are they will never know.

Bitter tears pang in the corners of her eyes. Seven hells, why is she crying? Why does she care so much? They are her friends. She should be happy if they’ve managed to find some solace in each other, gods know they’ve needed it. It’s not like she could give it to them herself, what with the way she is. Even if she wanted to, it’s too much.

Too much.

She kicks the hallway door open and storms through the tavern, scattering the remaining patrons in front of her. Gibrillont catches her eye when she storms up the stairs and quickly retreats. He knows better than to interfere. He know he must leave her be.

Aureia is certain she will become a snivelling mess when she finds privacy. But when she reaches her room, the tears refuse to fall. The best she can do is lay on her bed, staring numbly into the silver of moonlight dancing across her floor, and let her symptoms take her. She will welcome the hangover tomorrow. No matter how bad it is, it is nothing compared to the pain and isolation she feels tonight.

Aymeric’s letter remains folded in her pocket, all but forgotten.

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv fic #ffxiv fanfiction #wolcred #wolmeric #ffxiv wol #thancred waters #hilda ware #aureia malathar #oc tag #writing tag #long post

[lavampira]

promises to keep

d'alia liveq x sidurgu orl. pre-relationship. 1.8k words. post-2.0 patches and early heavensward spoilers. cw: mentions of grief. [also on ao3]

More often these days, D’alia finds herself at the Forgotten Knight after a patrol. The warmth of the low-burning fire is always a welcome respite from the falling snow, particularly after twirling with Rielle in circles to catch the frozen flakes on their tongues between fits of laughter until Sidurgu ushers them into the tavern, their own shelter from the stinging cold and prying eyes that follow them in the streets.

Their usual table is unbothered, close enough for Rielle to shed her mittens and warm her hands at the fireplace. Sidurgu takes his ever-watchful place to view the entirety of the room, arms folded over his broad chest, never far from their small charge. D’alia watches them over her shoulder as she awaits drinks from Gibrillont, marveling at the familiarity and how quickly this has settled into her life.

It nearly takes her back to memories of a time not long past that still sit too heavy in her chest, threatening to crawl up her throat and choke her if she allows them. ‘Tis all too easy to spot a shared table in another place if she closes her eyes, Y’shtola with a smirk over the rim of her wineglass as Thancred regales them with a tale and draws laughter bubbling out of D’alia at his antics, until reality sets in and they dissipate into the nothingness.

The weight of loss aches far more than the fabricated accusations and treachery that had forced her to flee to this place, but she doesn’t yet know how to let go. She never has—from only thirteen summers into life, all she has known is how to run and how to hold the past in a vice grip. Mayhap that is precisely why she continues to cling to Sidurgu and Rielle despite all her inner protestations to let others close again. Lost and damaged souls, the trio of them.

The path we walk is a lonely one, calls the voice beneath the surface of her mind.

Gibrillont raises an eyebrow at the obvious tension across her features but says nothing as he slides across two wooden tankards and a mug. Forcing her hands to unfurl from fists, D’alia gathers them to carry with an exchange of gil. The smile she offers is still too tight, but no matter. The tavernkeep has moved on again.

Another familiarity, this one: Sidurgu is first to see her return, but Rielle moves swifter than he does, ignoring his fussing as she scrambles for the mug of cocoa. D’alia’s laugh echoes in their sparse corner of the room as she settles into a seat with her tail flicking at her side. She passes one tankard across the uneven table, and Sidurgu accepts it with a nod, then turns to their charge with a frown.

“Hey,” Sidurgu admonishes. “What do you say?”

Rielle rolls her eyes, but smiles sheepishly once her gaze settles on her. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” D’alia reaches to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind the girl’s pointed ear. “Enjoy.”

As she watches Rielle grin over the rim of the mug held between her two small hands and Sidurgu skim the room idly over the rim of the tankard, D’alia realizes with a new heaviness that she will soon miss this routine. She leaves for Dravania on the morrow, uncertain of what the trip may yield, much less how long it will take. She supposes that worry for both of them will follow her, too.

Sidurgu can handle it, she knows. Despite the fears that had led to him asking for her help, he has protected Rielle on his own thus far, even with their disagreements. His heart bleeds for the young girl in a way that must remind him of his own childhood, as D’alia has begun to see the same in herself if she remains honest, their shared cyclical nature of paying forward the protection and care of a grieving soul who only wanted to do better, and so she dreads the time apart.

“You can be so daft,” Rielle snaps, ripping her from her thoughts. “Gods, I’m not just some stupid kid, you know.”

A pinch forms in Sidurgu’s brow above his scales. “I didn’t say that.”

“You act like it!”

Rielle gives him no opportunity to refute it before she throws her arms up with a frustrated noise and runs for the stairs. Sidurgu calls after her, but the girl is gone in a blink, heading for the inn room where they have been staying for some time now. He runs his hands over his face, only meeting D’alia’s gaze once he lowers them to idly nudge his tankard on the table.

“Sorry, she…” Sidurgu trails off in a sigh. “Things are still rough.”

“‘Tis difficult to be a young girl, not including all she’s been through.”

“Aye, you’re right. It’s just harder than I thought.”

D’alia leans on her palm, gazing up at him with a soft smile. “You’re doing well by her, Sid. There’s naught to worry about if you simply listen to her.”

“Well, it’s been easier with you around,” he admits quietly before a final sip of his ale.

Regret blooms through her with his confession, but before she can determine how much she should share, considering how much risk they already face from the Temple Knights, Sidurgu resolves that he should check on their charge. D’alia leaves the remainder of her own ale on the table to follow him. Silence weighs between them up the stairs, and she’s all too aware of how close they are in the narrow passage, her pauldron brushing against his cuirass.

It doesn’t take long to arrive at the door to their room. D’alia notes that it appears smaller than the single bed that she has occasionally rented, desperate to escape the confines of the manor no matter how grateful she is for the Fortemps’ hospitality, cramped with two small beds, an armoire, a dresser, and a desk. She glances over the tidied bed closest to the door while Sidurgu speaks to Rielle near the opposing one, wondering briefly how a man as large as him could comfortably fit in it, but warmth spreads up her neck and cheeks at the thought.

“I think I shall take my leave,” D’alia calls hurriedly, her tail twitching behind her leg. “‘Tis getting late.”

The lingering dread of her upcoming journey drives her across the room to their young charge. So unused to the sort of affection after the hints of her life that she has shared with her, Rielle still tenses when she embraces her, but sinks into D’alia after a beat with her own arms thrown around her in turn.

“I know Sid can be frustrating, but try to be patient with him,” D’alia says, drawing back to cup the girl’s face in her hands. Before Rielle can protest, she adds, “Even when he’s daft.”

“I can hear you,” he grumbles somewhere behind her.

“Take your horns elsewhere then, eavesdropper. We’re having a private chat.”

That causes a burst of giggles to escape Rielle, but she agrees to be patient with her stubborn caretaker so long as he continues trying to listen to her, which is enough for her. It pains D’alia to pull away from her not knowing what the morrow brings, but she offers a goodnight with a gentle pat before she forces herself to turn to leave. It springs to mind the question if her parent ever feels that way when she leaves him behind, too.

Heavy footsteps follow her to the door. Sidurgu’s large shadow looms over her shoulder as she stops at the door, but rather than intimidating, it strikes her as the first real sense of safety that she has felt in some time. Strange, considering a crystal and a simulacrum brought them together. But she knows in the deepest part of her heart that she trusts him to watch over her as much as she tries for him, too.

“I wanted to let you know I will be gone awhile,” D’alia says quietly, low enough for only him to hear, with her hand still on the unopened door. “I’m not yet sure when I’ll return.”

“Oh?”

Sidurgu shifts in her peripheral, curiosity laced with trepidation leaking from his voice in one simple word, but he doesn’t ask the burning question that she knows must be on the tip of his tongue. She risks a glance at him, tilting her head up to see him better in the dim lighting of the small room. His gaze remains sharp and unreadable with limbral rings aglow, half-hidden behind the white hair flopped over his forehead, all but pinning her in place as he observes her in turn.

D’alia isn’t quite sure what brings it to mind right then, but she finds herself struck by the fleeting thought that he must have watched Fray walk out that door, too, only to never return, leaving Sidurgu alone with their pact to protect that small child from the Temple Knights hunting her. Now here she is in Fray’s place, having made the same oath to keep Rielle safe so that he isn’t alone though her duty summons her away from the city. Guilt claws up her chest until it lodges itself in her throat.

Watching him now, she sees the full sum of his stubborn determination, his fear of failure, and the shroud of loss around him that mirrors her own, too. Kindred spirits are they, not solely in the shared and uneasy path that they walk, but the respective heaviness that they carry with them. And he hasn’t once shied away from her. Twelve be damned, she refuses to disappoint him.

“I made you a promise, though. I will return,” D’alia begins again. “Should aught happen that you require aid, the members of House Fortemps are trusted friends. Tataru, another ward of the house, will remain here, too. She isn’t the most combat-inclined, but she’s resourceful.” As she trails off, running a hand through her rosy hair, warmth spreads up her neck. “Pray say something before I make more of a fool of myself with my babbling.”

The corner of Sidurgu’s mouth quirks with a hint of a smile. “You’re no fool. But… Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Please do.”

“Listen, D’alia.” His hand reaches for her shoulder, but he stops short of her and balls it into a fist, lowering it to his side. “Tread softly, wherever it is you’re headed. I know your tendency towards finding trouble.”

Unable to suppress the soft fondness that swells through her, D’alia tilts her head away, lips pulling into a smile once more. She is certainly stalling now, hovering at the door as if caught between two lives. Stranger still, how much this one has become so integral, tied to her fellow dark knight and a small Elezen girl, and the desire to stay with them even a bit longer.

No, she doesn’t know how to let go, even less how to stop running. But as she finally passes through the door with that shadow still over her, she hopes one day she can learn.

#it's taken months but i've finished part 1 of the sidalia ficlet series. please clap. #dani writes things #game: ffxiv #fic: ffxiv #oc: d'alia liveq #ch: sidurgu orl #alia/sid #ch: rielle de caulignont #heavensward spoilers

[fourfoldfires]

gale myste, proprietor of the forgotten knight, who took on the deed to the place after old gibrillont passed. the name and the accent suggest he's a brume native, though even the eldest denizens of ishgard's lower levels don't remember anyone by that name.

one thing's for sure: the greatsword he keeps behind the bar isn't for show. private disputes are one thing, but anyone starting trouble in his tavern is swiftly dealt with, whether by master myste himself or his taciturn, horned second-in-command.

(any questions about a secret knightly order operating out of the back of the inn are shut down just as quickly.)

#ffxiv #dark knight #ishgard #oc: florian belanger #aka: galehaut myste #forgotten knight proprietor and grandmaster of the dark knight order #sometimes i like to think about where florian ends up many years post-msq. mostly i think it's this. #(he's denied the privilege of a glorious death on the battlefield. that would be far too smooth. too easy.) #('remember us' - said emet-selch. 'forget me' - said the warrior of light; and turned his back on the annals of history)

[autumnslance]

Hunts for Experience and Profit

It comes to my attention many folks have no clue about how the Daily and Weekly Alliance and Clan Hunt system works or why they should do it. They've heard of Hunt Trains, perhaps, but the rest of the system is a mystery. Folks are also uncertain about the markers on random mobs heads and what they mean; what's a viable target and what isn't?

This will also tie in to some previous tutorials I've written, about using Recommendations to track your activities (like the Hunts) and also how the Tomestone to Seals and Nuts process goes for the endgame gear.

So let's go below the cut to learn about the Hunt!

Now most of us caught on, when leveling new classes in ARR, that the trainers give you a Class Hunting Log you can fill out as you level. This is a good alternate source of Experience as you bust up through ARR, especially once you're out of main story quests and need variety from dungeon and/or PotD spam. Many of the mobs you'll incidentally see as you travel the zones and go into instances anyway. Completing each individual entry gives experience, and completing an entire level bracket gives another large boost.

There's also a Grand Company version to do which contributes to accumulating Seals, experience points, and requirements to rank up in your GC.

Mobs that are for your Class Hunt Logs have partial circle markers over their heads.

ARR ALSO had Alliance Hunts, given out by your Grand Company. These can include regular mobs around various zones, as well as FATE encounters (which can be annoying to track when those pop). The Alliance Hunts grant Allied Seals, which is a currency used at the Grand Company to purchase gear, minions, and other goodies.

Blue Mage also uses Allied Seals for their currency, obtained through the Carnivale.

ARR Hunts will only concern themselves with ARR zones, of course, because in Heavensward we met a new group responsible for Hunts.

You do not need to have completed any sort of Alliance Hunt quests or unlocks for Clan Hunts, but you DO have to unlock the Clan Hunts in order, starting in HW and progressing forward. It's literally just a single-step talking to the main vendor and board NPCs though.

Clan Centurio is located in the Forgotten Knight in Ishgard. The elderly couple at the counter by Gibrillont are the vendors, while Eustacia by the board outside handles the bills. Yloise in Idyllshire is who will allow you to select the Senior and Elite Bills. The Clan deals in Centurio Seals for their currency.

This continues through Stormblood with Clan Centurio members and boards available in both Kugane at the Shiokaze Hostelry when you arrive, and at Rhalgr's Reach (after level 67), between the regular vendors and where the tomestone vendors set up. Once you get to Kugane at level 61, the ability to join the Clan Hunts is available and continues as you level up through StB.

In Shadowbringers, given the circumstances, we meet the bloodthirsty Clan Nutsy and their new currency, Sacks of Nuts. The Boards and vendors are in the Crystarium near the Temenos Rookery (Amaro pens), and Eulmore's Understory (the middle section where the military barracks are). The Hunts are available pretty early on in the story again, and continue as you level.

In Endwalker, we're still using Nuts for the Guildship Hunts (and there's a viable lore reason why, given who's in the party by the time we get to Old Sharlayan). The Boards are in Old Sharlayan at Scholar's Harbor, near the Levequests and the Variant Dungeon NPCs; and in Radz-at-Han at Mehryde's Mehane. As before, the basic Hunts are available soon after the initial MSQ quests.

Note too that the Hunt Boards and their vendors DO appear on the maps.

Now you know where and how to find them and the general idea how to unlock them, why is this a thing? Well, as said in one of the other linked Tutorials, the Hunt vendors are where one can purchase Minions, Mounts, Target Dummies, Orchestrion Rolls, Materia, Tomestone Gear Augmentation Items, and eventually previous Tomestone Gear. That stuff doesn't vanish when their tomestones do!

For instance, in Endwalker as of patch 6.2, the Moonward gear has left the Tomestone Vendors, leaving us with Radiant and Lunar Envoy. But the Moonward is still available for purchase--with Sacks of Nuts.

J'lakshai in Old Sharlayan and Wilmetta in Radz-at-Han have the same inventory options. Various items and the Moonward gear are available from both. Eventually (patch 6.4) the Radiant gear will end up here too, to make room for whatever EW's last tome gear will be.

OK, so how does one collect Nuts?

Go to the Board you want to Hunt for, in this case, Dark's leveling a job in the 80s, so I stop by the board in Old Sharlayan; I just like to start there for my circuit. I can select Junior, Associate, and Senior Guildship Marks. I can also, since I haven't yet this week, grab an Elite Mark. The bills will be found in my Key Items inventory.

Junior, Associate, and Senior are daily requests to beat up normal mobs. Elite Marks are a weekly target, the "B Rank" marks. Daily marks will get a little red Mandragora over their heads, while a Weekly B Rank gets a blue burst. B Ranks are a single mob spawning somewhere in a zone, and respawns a few seconds after it's killed. B Ranks can be reliably killed solo by a character near or at level cap.

The "A Rank" mobs are only up sometimes, take several hours to respawn, and are the target of Hunt Trains as they are not soloable at level, coming with a load of hitpoints and nasty mechanics. "S Ranks" are even worse, requiring specific conditions (usually certain player actions in that zone) to spawn and are meant to be a step up in danger and difficulty. A Ranks have a red and gold burst icon.

Once I have my bills, I open up my Recommendations menu, set it to The Hunt, and once I'm in a zone with Hunt targets, it will show those targets to me. This is detailed in the Recommendations Tutorial, linked above.

I tend to start out in the lowest level zones, and kill those critters. They may be on the Junior Bill--or they may be on the Senior, or even on multiple Bills; the level of the mob doesn't matter, but the payout is more for Senior Bills (and you get paid for both if the targets are on more than one Bill!). I'll do them all, going through the zones until the tracker's empty.

Limascabras are worth 904 exp; even with food and a scroll buff, it's not a lot per mob at level 87--but once I finish the Senior Bill asking for 2 limascabras, I get a burst of experience points--222,750 exp--and my 15 sacks of nuts and 1,500 gil.

There's five mark targets (asking for 1, 2, or 3 kills each) per Bill. It adds up, especially when combined with the combat tribal quest, which can be done at the same time you're doing marks in that zone. And since I go in zone order, in EW I end in Zone 5 with the gathering tribe quests.

It's important to note that Weekly B Ranks and the A Ranks do not give experience points. B Ranks will give gil and Seals/Nuts, while A Ranks will give Seals/Nuts, gil, and tomestones.

----

And that's about it, really! Learn where mobs are, see the sights of Eitherys, get gil, currency, and experience points, and nab yourself some nice glamours/initial endgame gear/combat retainer gear and other rewards. You'll learn where to find the daily marks, how to tell a B Rank from an A Rank, and maybe sometime join the Hunt trains to fill your currency tab and get yourself a fancy mount or augmentations for your tome gear if you're not running the 24man raids.

For you sprouts--or just those who've never bothered with the Hunt before, I hope you've found this useful! Until next time; I have some mobs to beat up.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Tutorial #Guide #Clan Hunt #Allied Hunt #Class Hunt #Hunt Log #Recommendations #Lyn Edits

[galadae]

the well-being of friends

rating: G characters: calantha lenn, estinien varlineau words: 1489 notes: occurs mid HW (a few weeks after the vault) ao3 link

The night is gray and dim, with no moon or stars in sight. A thick cover of gray clouds rests over Ishgard. Estinien stands with his hands on his hips, near the firepit across from the Holy Stables. He’d rather not be out in the cold at this hour, but he promised Alphinaud he’d look for her. 

“There you are,” he says, looking down at the figure hunched against the wall.

“What do you want?” Calantha glares at him. Her words are slow, barely running together. She sits with her back to the stone, leaning her arm against a stack of crates pushed into the corner of the wall. Her coat is unbuttoned and the wind has made her violet hair even more disheveled than usual. He can’t tell if she’s tired, angry, drunk or perhaps all three. With my luck, probably all three.

“It’s customary to approach one’s friends when one sees them.” He stands next to her. Why isn’t she sitting near the fire pit? he thinks. Is her sense truly so far gone with drink already?  Alphinaud’s worried face appears in his mind. Damn him for putting me up to this.

Calantha scoffs. “So we’re friends, are we?” She glances up at him, smirking. “Why do you still wear that armor at this hour? I see no attacking dragons." She snickers at her own poor excuse for a joke. 

He stares at her. What does she know? There could be a dragon attack, at any moment. Better to be prepared. He pushes down the retort. He notices a clear bottle, mostly empty, clutched in her gloved hands. "I will not ask why you’re here, but I’ve been sent to bring you back. Let’s go.”

Her giggling stops. She glares, half annoyed, half defiant. "Why don’t you go? Stick your spiky face somewhere else. I can manage alone."

Estinien rolls his eyes. “Can you? You’re drinking in the cold street hours after midnight. I would have to be an utter fool to believe you.” 

She looks down and takes another swig. “You don’t have to believe me. You just have to leave. Easy.” 

“Hm. No. You might do something regrettable.” 

Calantha grunts, holding the bottle close. “I suppose you're here to tell me about how I can’t let myself be consumed with anger and revenge, how it was empty for you in the end, blah blah blah. Sod off.” 

The bottle is the problem, clearly. He grabs it. “I have no intention of doing so. Give me that.”

“I’m using it,” she hisses. He can smell it on her breath. She clutches it tighter, pulling it against her chest. He tries to yank it free. She jabs him with her elbow and loses her balance, flopping to the ground. 

“Ugh! Fine,” she snaps. “If you’re so bent on bothering me, sit down. We can share. I can spare some for a friend.” 

Estinien shakes his head. He had hoped he could simply talk her into returning. If he has to sit with her in her misery, so be it. He sighs as he lowers himself down next to her. His armor clinks on the stone. 

Calantha stares ahead as he takes a sip of what has to be the worst brandy he’s ever tasted. He spits it out.  

“Where did you get this?” 

“Gibrillont,” she says. She reaches for the bottle. “Or maybe one of his friends. Give it here.”

“This is abhorrent.” 

She snorts. “It’s cheap. Takes the edge off. I don’t care about the flavor.” 

“I can see that.” Estinien holds the bottle away from her. “You’ve had enough. This edge is too strong for spirits.” He raises his arm and tosses it over the wall into the ravine below.

She reaches for it with an indignant squawk. “Hey! Why’d you–”

“The others are worried, Calantha,” he says. She stops, eyes wide at the intensity of his tone. “I won’t pry, but you are clearly not well, and I mean to see that you make it home in one piece.” 

Her lip curls. "Really? You’re afraid I might not get back safe, because I’m a bit downhearted?” 

“Downhearted is one way of putting it,” he mutters. Why does she have to make this so difficult?

She ignores him. “You think I’m incompetent after all we've done together? I’ve all but matched you in combat, and you tell me I can’t fend for myself?" 

"That wasn't–" He grits his teeth. This petty argument she wants to start isn't important right now. He takes a breath. "It's also customary to check on the well-being of friends, Calantha. Moreso, after–"

She turns away before he can finish, looking towards the silhouettes of the bridge in the distance. She curls her arms around herself, her breath misting in the cold air. “Didn't think my well-being would matter to you, of all people.”

Estinien is unsure how to respond, so he watches her, waiting for her to say more. As much as it annoys him to speak with her at times, he doesn't enjoy seeing her like this.

“Well. It's been awful, if you must know,” she says, finally. Her words come out halting, as if she’s trying to figure them out as she speaks. “It’s so– empty. Without him.” She clutches the fabric of her sleeves. “Everything I’ve had to do, it’s…too much. Sometimes. For one person.” She sniffs. “He knew that. Understood. Not everyone does. And now he’s- he’s gone.”

 Estinien nods, even though she’s not looking at him.

"And I-I would march up to the vault and kill all of them for what they did. If I could. But I'm here instead." Her voice is shaking. Her hands are in fists now, balled in her lap. 

"He wanted me to smile." She laughs bitterly. "Easy for him to say. He dies in my arms and I'm supposed to smile?" 

She clutches her coat buttons, wringing them between her hands. The words fall from her lips faster, rushing together in a stream of sadness. "He didn’t need to shield me. He could have shoved me away. I might have lived. He didn’t need to–He–" She covers her face and leans onto the crates, dissolving into quiet sobs. 

He’s taken aback by her sudden tears. He understands all too well the grief that troubles her, but he’s unsure how to help her, or if he should. Estinien contemplates patting her on the shoulder, but decides against it. Nothing he can say will fix things but there’s little else he can do.

"Indeed, you might have lived. And you might not. You know he would never have taken that risk. Not for you. Not for anyone."

She raises her head and takes a shaky breath. “I should’ve done something. I could’ve tr–”

“What would you have done?” He cuts her off. “Now is not the time to place blame on anyone but those who struck the blow.” 

She swallows and stares at him. Her expression flashes from anger to bitterness to tired grief. She hangs her head. 

“You are not the only one who mourns him. To think you’re alone in this is foolish.” 

Calantha stares at the ground. They sit in silence for a moment that stretches on longer and longer. Estinien shifts on the cold cobbles. He’s glad she’s stopped crying, but he can feel his impatience returning with every second of awkward quiet.

The wind picks up, and the clouds start to shift. Calantha looks up at the sky. She speaks just as he starts to wonder if he should give up and go. 

“Do I have to admit that you’re right before you’ll leave me in peace?”

He lips curve into a small smile. “You could tell me that I'm right, but I cannot leave you in peace. We should return to Fortemps manor, or Alphinaud will faint from worry." 

She groans. "So that’s what this is about. I should have known." 

She wipes her eyes on her sleeve and stands, using the crates for support. She sways less than he expected. Perhaps the bad booze has worn off. 

Estinien rises. "Calantha, I have a favor to ask.”

“Hmm?” 

“If you must drink the pain away, do so with something more pleasant. No more of Gibrillont’s friends’ brandy.”

She scoffs. “I’ll consider it. You owe me for the rest of that bottle,” she says and steps forward. Her boot catches an uneven stone and she trips into him with a yelp. 

He catches her by the shoulder. Not worn off enough, sadly. “Fine. I will find you something myself, if need be. The drink must be at least palatable if we're to share." 

“I never said I’d share.” 

He snorts. “Then perhaps I won’t repay you after all.”

Calantha rolls her eyes. “Such generosity. Come on.”

They walk slowly up the street. The clouds part for a moment, and the moon lights their way.

#ffxiv #fic #hannah words #oc: calantha lenn #estinien varlineau #i forgot to post this here for several days lol #resisting the urge to reread and edit this again asdkfjadhf

[jefarawol]

As a stroke of luck, we had found exactly who we were looking for. We moved to the Forgotten Knight, Hilda showing us how easy her influence was, a simple pay off and the staff, Gibrillont included, vacated.

We took a gamble and told her everything. Nidhogg, the bloodlines, and Aymeric's sacrifice.

...So while you were on your way to kill Nidhogg, you stumbled on some dirty secrets that the Holy See has been hidin' for centuries.

Eh? What are they on about?

The High Houses, and what makes a nobleman so bleedin' noble. They trace their blood back to King Thordan and his knights twelve─the founders of Ishgard. But our friends here reckon we're all descended from the heroes of eld─highborn and lowborn alike. And so Ser Aymeric, lord commander of the Temple Knights, has gone to ask the archbishop if he wouldn't mind lettin' everyone know.

Is he simple!? The old bastard'll have him executed for heresy!

Hilda: Well, seems to me that's what the good ser wants. Seems he thinks a noble sacrifice will serve to prove his claims.

I wont let that happen. I'd take on the Gods themselves if it meant saving him from that fate.

We cannot stand idly by and allow Ser Aymeric to do this. Ishgard has need of him.

Look, you've a good heart. I can see that. Willin' to risk your neck for someone else, even when his troubles ain't yours. But what's this got to do with me?

#FFXIV #Final Fantasy XIV #ffxiv hw #ffxiv hw retelling #HW #warrior of light #ffxiv aura #ffxiv gpose #final fantasy gpose #ffxiv screenies #ffxiv screenshots

[ricard-blythe-ffxiv]

DWC - February 2023 - Day 1 - Weakness

It was the sound of the wood scrapping against wood that had drawn his attention away from the glass in his hand and the letter that lay pinned beneath the bourbon bottle.  Ricard sighed heavily, barely holding in the irritated snarl as he glanced across the table at the figure who’d dared to disturb what was clearly meant to be his time brooding. 

He’d chosen the most isolated table within the Forgotten Knight and paid the barkeep quite well to direct people away from him. And who had chosen to disturb his solitude?

Edalene fucking Slater. 

And she looked all too pleased with herself about it. TOO damn pleased about it.

“I told Gibrillont I wanted to be left alone…”

“No. You gave him a small sum of gil and asked him to direct traffic elsewhere. I gave him a significantly larger sum of gil and told him not to disturb this little corner until after I leave. The difference between vague and clear directions, Ricard. You’re old enough now you really should know this.”

“I’m not in the mood, Slater…”

“Oh, that’s right…I did hear something about a rather significant social event getting cancelled. How is mommy Blythe taking that news?”

Ricard’s eyes closed for a moment as his fist closed around the paper on the table. “She’s taking it about as well as you would expect, Edalene, which is not well at all. She was expecting to be celebrating a wedding about this time, not to suddenly find out that the whole thing had been called off.”

“And is there a reason you’re sitting in the Forgotten Knight drinking, instead of at home or the Milner estate?”

“Because I wanted to be left alone.”

“Hm, no… If you wanted to be alone that big old estate of your Uncle’s would’ve done just fine. Oh, if I were a betting woman I think I might put money down on you wanting anything except to be alone this evening. Always was a weakness of yours, Ricard, you think you can hide things better than you actually can. You hate this-,” she motioned at the letter on the table, “-as much as your mother does. Because now she’s going to expect you to try to find a partner again. Where as before it was all taken care of. Nice and neat.”

He leaned back in his chair, offering a small grin. “We all have flaws. And I suppose it’s a good thing you’re very much not a betting woman. Because you’d lose an awful lot of gil.” He downed what remained in his glass, setting the empty container down as he picked up the letter, folding it up and tucking it into one of the pockets of his coat as he stood. 

“Mmhm. Keep telling yourself that, Blythe. Just remember, you’re not the only perceptive one that was sitting at this table.”

He huffed, turning and making his way up the stairs without casting even a second glance back towards the table in the corner of the tavern.

But as he stepped outside and the cold air hit his lungs he couldn’t help but think that he did have one weakness that he could acknowledge…he had the worst time acknowledging his own fucking feelings.  

@daily-writing-challenge

#dwc2023 #febday12023 #the perceptive smartass #ffxiv edition

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2023, Prompt 23: Suit

Aymeric browsed the shops of the Jeweled Crozier, simply looking for ingredients for dinner tonight and to surprise Dia with a gift. As he searched with the jeweler, he heard them: a group of women giggling in the corner.

There was a small part of him that hoped that their laughter wasn’t directed at him.

“Isn’t the Lord Speaker handsome?” he heard one of them whisper.

His hopes were dashed.

In an effort to avoid embarrassing himself further, he kept pretending as though he heard nothing. The women were whispering amongst themselves, and not doing a very good job at concealing their gossip.

“Shame he’s not interested in a more appropriate suitor for his position.”

“The Savior of Ishgard must feel very lucky. At least, I hope she does, or I should be rather cross with her.”

“Oh, I think she does, indeed. Have you heard some of the noises that leave Borel Manor on some nights?”

That last comment was enough to send the girls back into a laughing fit, and to make Aymeric’s face red as a rolanberry.

“Are you well, my lord? Your face…” asked the merchant.

“I’m fine, thank you. The ruby brooch, if you would be so kind.”

The merchant prepared the brooch, Aymeric paid him, and he left quickly. Upon his return to the manor, he found Angelbert, his head steward, working on preparing tea, and Dia working on weaving something at the settee. She was too injured still for longer trips out in the cold, but her physical therapy brought her to a point where she could move about the house with aid. No longer was she restricted to the bed.

“Hi!” she greeted brightly.

“Hello”, he greeted back with his own smile.

“Ooh, is that dinner in your bag?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Pray allow me to return it to the kitchen, my lord”, Angelbert insisted, making his way to Aymeric and taking hold of his bag.

“Thank you.”

“Certainly. ‘Twas my job once, after all. But Mistress Sito’s care takes the utmost priority.” With that, Angelbert left for the kitchen.

Aymeric sat down next to Dia, who looked at him and noticed something off. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Could I…could I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“When you were here, before you left for Sharlayan and earned your injuries against Zenos, was there anyone here in Ishgard you liked to speak with regularly? Aside from me?”

“Definitely. The Manufactory was a frequent haunt to work on machinistry with Steve and Hilda and Joye, I’d bother Gibrillont for his bread recipe, I’d take tea with Edmont and Artoirel, I started having drinks with Lucia before she left for Garlemald, I would talk with Francel while crafting in the Firmament. I’m not lonely when I’m here if that’s what you’re wondering. They’ve all visited me at one point or another too.”

“Glad am I that you’re not lonely, but does that mean you’ve never been particularly interested in…high society, as it were?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve never thought what it would be like to be a part of it?”

Dia shook her head. “I’ve lived in House Fortemps for years, in case you forgot. I’ve seen what happens in high society in Ishgard and I’m not interested.”

“I see. So you’ve never felt outcast by anyone?”

“Not really. Even if I’m forsaken by some noble houses, the people I like seem to like me back, so I’m better off with them rather than trying to worm my way into somewhere I don’t belong.”

Aymeric smiled. “Good, good.”

“Why do you ask?”

He blushed. “There was…some gossip of sorts.”

“You listen to that?”

“Not on purpose, mind you. I had overheard it while shopping.”

“Oh?”

“Supposedly, some wonder if I have taken an appropriate partner for my station, and while I would never agree with such drivel, it had me wonder if this has affected you at all.”

Dia scowled. “Pieces of shite. They said that out loud? While you were there?”

Aymeric nodded.

“Spinner…no, don’t worry about it affecting me. I’m an outsider, after all, even if Ishgard’s doors are open. I was doomed the moment I was born outside of Ishgard’s noble houses. Worry about it affecting you. You’re the one that has to deal with it.”

Aymeric let out a relieved breath. “I’m glad to hear that. I know how to approach this nonsense, and I shan’t let it come back to you in any way.”

Dia smiled.

“I got you something, too.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that, Ayms.”

“But I wished to. Worry not.” He held out the box from his inventory and gave it to her. Dia opened it and found the brooch laying in it.

“Aw…thank you! This is pretty.”

As she had started working on goldsmithing, she had more than a few problems with the quality, but she wasn’t going to tell Aymeric about it. In the meantime, she kissed his cheek and placed the brooch in her inventory.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #aymeric de borel #f elezen wol #fanfiction #sorry this one’s short

[laspocelliere]

Day Sixteen: Jerk

“Why do you have to be such…such an utter ass?”

The woman – girl, really, twenty summers if she was a day – stomped out of the Forgotten Knight with aplomb, skirts hiked in both hands, and knocking roughly into the shoulder of the woman going into the pub as she went. 

Bemused and flattered not to be recognized, the Warrior of Light turned to watch her go. The girl was flustered and offended, that much was plain; even in the darkness of the winter evening, the nearby firelight shone rosy over the hot flush of her cheeks. She had the bloom of youth about her, from the trim on her gown to the ribbons in her hair, and the Warrior had a fleeting, familiar sting pass over her thoughts that she had never in her life been that lovely, or that innocent. 

Rather than let the thought linger, she headed into the pub that that flustered young damsel had recently vacated, only to find the source of her indignation seated at a table in the corner, head bowed low beneath his helm and irritation nearly radiating from every inch of him.

“Whatever you said to her, I guarantee it could have been kinder,” she said without venom as she approached. Gibrillont, already spotting her upon her entrance, deposited a second tankard onto the table and disappeared again without a word. 

Estinien, for his part, barely acknowledged her arrival.

“I was nothing if not honest,” he said roughly. “The girl’s barely out of the nursery, she has no business being here anyway, nor of fluttering those eyelashes at anyone in that manner.”

“Aren’t we protective?” She nudged at his leg with her own, wordlessly prompting him to shift so she could get by. He moved without comment, and she made herself comfortable in the seat next to him, immediately draping her legs over his lap in an easy, familiar manner. “And yet I notice you haven’t thrown me out with nearly as much venom, good ser.”

“You aren’t trying to flirt with me at the behest of your dear maman, convinced by nighttime fairy stories of saviour dragoons and knights true.”

“I’m not trying to flirt with you full stop, nevermind at the behest of any maman in the region,” she quipped back, leaning forward to claim her drink from the tabletop. All three Fortemps brothers would likely balk at the quality of the wine therein if they heard of their newly adoptive “sister” drinking it, but she’d had far worse, and better yet, wasn’t picky. 

Estinien hummed lowly, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair, but making no effort to dislodge her. “And yet you seem intent on setting half the tongues of Ishgard wagging tonight, Warrior. You’re jerking around several prominent hearts at this point yourself, surely?”

“I need you as a red herring.” She spoke softly, but something entered her tone that was nothing but serious. Beneath his helm, Estinien levelled her with a sharp, searching look as she continued. “If they think I’m fucking you, fine. If they think I’m fucking half the regiment, fine. If they think I’m too frigid and hideous for anyone to fuck, and will make their pricks fall off if they get too close, all the better. Any option will keep them from coming too close.” 

For a long, quiet moment, Estinien watched her. Her expression betrayed nothing, but they’d grown nothing if not close over the months she’d spent in the city, and they’d both found to their mild surprise that they were more similar in countenance than either would like to admit. It made it easier to form trust, perhaps, when one didn’t have to consistently explain their thought process. 

As a direct result of that, as well as a lifetime of friendship and history with the Lord Commander, Estinien knew very well that he held a secret that no one in Ishgard knew. One that would shake all of “proper” society, setting dangerous political and military schemes afoot, as well as send a few tongues flapping in the Brume and beyond besides.

He also knew he’d die before he told a soul.

“Fair enough,” he replied gruffly, and she didn’t answer, focused on sipping absently at her weak wine instead. Shifting, and without looking at her, the Azure Dragoon laid one hand protectively on her booted ankle where it lay draped across his lap.

Fair enough.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #Estinien #heavensward #platonic soulmates #they're best friends okay #and I care their relationship a lot #also obviously my usual #wolmeric #if you squint

[1shepherd7wanderers]

Day 11: Once Bitten Twice Shy

Hohoka sat alone at Baderon's bar in the midnight hours. She regarded the cup of watered down but warm ale on the bar in front of her and the man who served her, Baderon himself. Sometimes she wondered if Baderon and his ilk ever slept. It was hard to sleep herself, especially in light of recent events with Ga Bu, a small kobold child. Hohoka found herself grateful that the proprietors never seemed to sleep, hopeful a drink would ease her down for some rest.

Though as she stared down at the beverage before her, her thoughts drifted to other misfortunes.

"Ye 'aven't laid a finger on yer drink, lass." Baderon commented, throwing a towel over his shoulder, "All alright?"

"As alright as I can be." Hohoka gave an apologetic smile, "I think maybe I need a walk more than a drink." She slid some gil on the bartop, a few more than the drink was worth, and headed along.

Her thoughts walked with her as she started towards the Tempest Gate. Warm drinks used to be so comforting. Chai from her nanny in Thavnair, Momodi's mulled tea, cups of many different drinks with friends, G'raha's heartwarming yet under spiced attempt at Masala chai, glasses of warm wine with Nanamo. The Sultana Nanamo. In her mind's eye, Hohoka saw her fall over presumably dead after a glass of wine that they had often shared. The aftermath cut her deeper than a spear's full hilt.

But there was Haurchefant's hot chocolate, Gibrillont's spiced mead and cider, the House Fortempt's brew of Ishagardian tea. Then there was the warm drink of Coerthan tea from- she never got her name. The woman who tainted a warm cup of trust at Falcon's Nest.

Hohoka understood her anger, she honestly did. Yet the scar had been burned on her own heart, and it still ached. As she sat on the stone edging of Tempest Gate, she thought on her lunch with Aymeric. The way she stiffened at the sight of tea brewed by his manservant. The look that must have been in her eyes for Aymeric to know immediately what had occurred. Never again could she truly trust a drink.

#ffxivwrite2023 #hohoka hoka

[mythandral]

1. What is the character’s go-to drink order? (If you are taking these questions ^^")

Myth has a fierce sweet tooth and his drinks order will usually reflect that. He'd rather sip on a glass of something than down pints, so his go-to would be on the stronger side like a fruit liqueur (think Cointreau or similar), or mead. For non-alcoholic, fruit juice - especially anything apple-based for the nostalgia factor. And for hot drinks: strong, perhaps even black, coffee with an ungodly amount of sugar.

However: generally post-ARR he's a bit wary about ordering drinks at all, and would far rather sort his own out. So the correct answer might be "nothing at all". There are exceptions for a few trusted locations like the bar in the Rising Stones and probably the Forgotten Knight as well, though he makes sure Gibrillont's the one pouring it.

#ask meme #*always* happy to take questions!!

[orime-stories]

Day 11 - Orthodox Mayhem

“If anyone in this city learns anything about the others, I’ll definitely hear of it,” Tataru stated with her usual confidence and cheer.

“I imagine you’re hearing all sorts of interesting stories in a job like this!” Aurelle nudged conspiratorially, the Forgotten Knight playing host to all manner of patrons after all, in varying states of inebriation.

“Oh you’re absolutely correct!” Tataru grinned. “But I wouldn’t dream of betraying the trust of our customers like that, or this fabulous opportunity Gibrillont has allowed me.” She gave him a wave from across the room. “I am a woman of firm and unshakeable principles, as you well know!”

But the twinkle in her eyes said wait until we get home and I’ll tell you everything!

For the Junelezen Challenge 2022

Previous Entries: Introduction / Calamity / A Realm Reborn / History Repeating / Eorzea Defended / Dreams of Ice / Warrior of Light / Heavensward / Floor the Horde / Gaol Break

#junelezen #junelezen 2022 #oc: aurelle silmontier #tataru taru #final fantasy xiv #heavensward #orime's stories