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WHM 51, MSQ 34 - Lord of Crags

I could not sleep. My failures in Dzemael Darkhold would not permit me to settle and my fears that I am inadequate for the role I have chosen gnaw at any comfort the inn bed was providing. It was far too late at night to make my way to Stillglade Fane for consultation with my betters in the Conjurer's Guild, so I attempted to meditate and commune with the elementals instead.

I sat with the whispering rod that I brought back from Dzemael Darkhold. It reminded me of the one that A-Ruhn-Senna bears, which is equally as dark in appearance, but hums quietly with power even though it is resting upon the Seedseer's back. When he bore his whispering rod in battle during the Quieting, I saw it shake and shimmer in his hand as if it were partaking of the aether he was channeling through it.

I did not realize how empty the whispering rod in my hand was until I attempted to use it as a focus for communing with the elementals. It was as if I was trying to fill a cracked cistern with a tea cup. I stopped trying to activate the rod and just sat still with the awareness of the elementals around me in this place.

All too soon, it was dawn. And with it came Y'shtola's missive. Her preparations at the kobold aetheryte were complete and a small cadre of Scions had volunteered to join me in facing Titan. I placed the whispering rod in safekeeping, took up the omnicrafter's gift, and went to face the navel of O'Ghomoro.

I did not understand the appeal of a free company until I met the Scions that would be accompanying me. It was the same marauder, thaumaturge, and lancer that ventured with me into Haukke Manor and Brayflox's Longstop! They failed to hide their relief that I would be their healer just as I failed to hide my relief that I would have trustworthy and predictable companions. Even though we have worked together only briefly, we knew each other to know our respective limits. I knew I would not be saving the lancer from the siren's call of causing maximum damage like I have had to do to other melee players more determined to finish a chain of strikes as they were trained to do than to survive the encounter as they are supposed to do.

If joining a free company meant becoming part of a steadfast group of adventurers that one could learn to depend on and be dependable to, then I see why the Company of Heroes became the legends that they did. But I am also reminded of the cost they paid to bring Titan low the first time, and the degree to which Wheiskaet tested me, and the constant background cacophony around the Gridania aetheryte of gossip and adventurers begging for free company signups and… well… I have the Scions to help me train and grow stronger so what happened in Dzemael Darkhold will not happen again.

Once we face Titan.

I had scarce finished nodding to Y'shtola at the kobold aetheryte when I had to blink at the sudden pressure of overheated air squeezing me. The Scions and I struggled to breathe in the navel of O'Ghomoro. We were now standing on a solitary pillar in the heart of the kobolds' mines, and not very far from the heart of the volcano itself. However, we stood alone, with neither primal nor kobold to take to task, and no means of leaving the pillar for the platforms surrounding us.

A series of screeching called my attention to focus. We turned to face the source and saw a large kobold wearing the gear and mask of a kobold patriarch. The patriarchs are the high priests of the kobold society, and as such are capable of summoning Titan and his power to lord over the lower ranks. The patriarch was calming the kobolds that had witnessed our entry and realized that their aetheryte had been compromised.

"Brothers and sisters, fear him not! His fate shall be decided by the Lord of Crags!" I saw the scepter he waved over his head and realized that behind him were crates of crystals. When the kobolds silenced themselves, the patriarch then addressed me and my fellows. He detailed how the Lominsans had broken the peace treaty that had been mutually agreed upon, how his people were being slaughtered and forced from lands that were theirs by right. No more would the kobolds permit any overdweller to reside on the island. They would be taking back what was always theirs by right.

"You shall be the first to face judgement! Then Limsa Lominsa and her oathbreakers–liars, betrayers, oathbreakers!"

A flicker of doubt chilled me. This was not the first time that I had heard the allegation that the Lominsans were the aggressors against the beast tribes. Alphinaud spoke politically about it during the memorial, and Y'shtola braved the wrath of the Admiral when she spoke plain and direct. But now to hear the charge being laid by the affected peoples made me wonder if we were right to undo Titan. Were the kobolds really just defending themselves?

"Make ready!" I heard the marauder's grip tightening on his axe before I realized what words were being blown across the chasm to the pillar. I looked up and saw the patriarch and other kobolds were now in positions of prayer.

"O Great Father, Lord of Crags! Titan, we summon You! Titan, we summon You! O Great Father, Lord of Crags! Titan, we summon You! Titan, we summon You!"

The very air was pulled in from all directions to a point over the center of the pillar. I could feel the aether being drawn in from the crystals next to the patriarch, from the magma in the chasm below us, and from the great masses of rock surrounding us. If it were not for our training, the summoning ritual would have pulled aether from our very bodies, weapons, and gear, tempering us in the process. But we held fast, each and every one.

I did not need to hear the kobolds' loud chittering to know what the bright flash and pressure wave from the center of the pillar meant. "He is come! He is come! The Lord of Crags, Titan is come!"

Where the form of Ifrit is all taut sinew and lean musculature, Titan at first glance, resembles an outcropping of rock. Stubby legs that are short in proportion to his body and thick clubs of arms that appear to be too massive to move, Titan ground his teeth and looked down on us with complete contempt.

With an eloquence that unnerved me, the primal laid out the charge against the Lominsans, before being specific with his ire against us. I do not know how he knew we had unmade Ifrit already, but he added that action to the list of crimes that he will be sentencing and executing us for. Having exhausted his patience for speech, he roared his murderous intent.

I don't know why I cast my air spell onto him. No, I do know why. Because that is what I have been trained to do. My air spell is admittedly weak and is as effective as a chigoe on a banemite, but over time that damage does add up. However, the spell called Titan's attention to me. His massive form moved much faster than I thought it could and in two short steps, he was one step away from crushing me.

But for all his speed, the marauder moved faster. The axe swept up from the floor and gouged deep in Titan's leg. Now extra furious, the primal turned his attention away from me and towards the metal encased Lominsan that dared to laugh at the underground god. The marauder led Titan away from me to the other side of the pillar with the same ease as luring a child with a piece of candy. The lancer followed closely behind while the thaumaturge remain standing beside me, already hurling globs of fire at the primal's back.

The tumult of Titan's presence caused the heat of the pillar to strike us. Even though the lancer, thaumaturge, and myself were never hit by the primal's direct strikes, we all were damaged by virtue of being in the area. Rather than wait for everyone's health to severely drop before trying to address the matter, I attempted to cast one of my recently learned spells, a blessing of health that would also infuse our bodies with the ability to continue to heal for a short time after the initial blessing. But I couldn't. The primal's presence was so oppressive, that even though we weren't tempered, we were still restricted by what we could do for as long as the primal was standing. It was like what happened in Haukke Manor and in Dzemael Darkhold, where our foe had an advantage over us just by existing.

Fortunately, I had not forgotten my initial lessons as a white mage and shifted my strategy to match. I called upon the elementals and found that despite being in the presence of a primal, I could still call upon the aether of the land itself. Entering into an almost-meditative state that one could call lucid dreaming, I was able to keep my mana reserves full even as I kept one eye on the marauder and one eye on the rest of the scions. As such, even after a direct strike, no one's health dropped to critical levels and everyone remained on their feet and functional.

Though, it was not as if we could stay standing in one spot for very long. Titan may be massive, but he is as quick as he is eloquent. We all had to move quickly when he whirled to pummel the land and create a landsliding wave that threatened to knock his target (and anyone else in the way) off of the pillar. He would call out the land to avenge the sins we were accused of, and if we were not paying attention, the very ground under our feet would assault us to great damage with its weight. At times, he even shook the pillar with such intensity that the edges began to crumble and we found ourselves with less and less room to maneuver and dodge.

The worst was when he would call the land to seize one of us, imprisoning the scion in a granite gaol that the free scions would have to swiftly dismantle lest the trapped scion be crushed by the solidifying rock. Titan would gaol one scion as bait, wait for the rest of us to move to free them, and then strike the ground to throw the rescuers off of the pillar.

But we each knew our abilities, and more importantly, we each knew the limits of our peers! We played our roles to the best of our abilities such that little by little, the great mountain primal was worn down and eventually undone. As his body fell, he called out to the kobolds, exhorting them to flee in fear for their safety. This touched me and made me again wonder if we were in the right.

As if to echo my worry, as the kobolds obeyed their god's last words, the patriarch that summoned declared that our actions were just more overdweller crimes, and that they would never be forgotten. He called out again that it was the others, the Lominsans, that broke the covenant. That the kobolds were acting only in defense of their lands.

While my fellow scions cheered the demise of Titan and the retreat of the kobolds, I stood in thoughtful silence and remembered my uncle's friends. How battle-weary they were. How grateful they were that my mother never asked them to repel any beasts from the woods around the farm. How they could sit at the table without worrying that someone would attack them from behind. I used to wonder why would they fear such a thing happening.

As the patriarch took up the rear of the retreat, I understood and closed my eyes in silent prayer that all I do be done for the good of, and in the light of, the Crystal. I opened my eyes to see a yellow crystal shard, of the same hue as Titan's heart, of the same hue as boiling magma, sitting still at my feet. The moment my attention fell upon it, it activated and power came from it to engulf me.

I found myself standing in the center of the ornate seal again. Around me were the three crystals of light that I had already encountered, each one attuned to a different element. The earthen crystal of light took its place upon the seal and showered me with a light and power that I felt healing my body and restoring my soul. I knew then, that while I was being used as a political tool by the Admiral for the immediate sense, I was following the path that had been set for me since birth. Hydaelyn's grace soothed my doubts.

I opened my eyes just in time to see Y'shtola teleporting from the above-ground aetheryte to the pillar. She noted that the battle had ended and that she could feel the primal's presence cease even from her station at the aetheryte. Noting that the kobolds were in disarray, she noted the obvious that this was not the time for a debriefing, but for the scions, one and all, to leave before the kobolds came back for revenge. I agreed and asked that she teleport the others out first. She tilted her head, half in agreement and half in curiosity, but said nothing as she worked her magics and cleared the area. Before sending me on my way, she said that there was something that she had to investigate before we could speak further. Once back on the surface, she would rendezvous with me at Camp Bronze Lake.

I don't have the habit of arguing with any person capable of teleporting me into the middle of the ocean, so of course I agreed, and I was sent on my way. After seeing to the repairs of my gear and saying goodbye to my fellow trusted Scions, I did meet up with Y'shtola in Camp Bronze Lake. She tasked me with reporting to the high commander of the Maelstrom forces while she took care of another matter. Quite exhausted, I hired a chocobo porter to ferry me to Limsa Lominsa rather than take the risk that I fall asleep and direct Sable off the nearest cliff. The chocobo is far too young to take to flying just yet.

Once at Limsa Lominsa, I reported to the Storm Commander immediately. She had already heard the news but wanted it confirmed in person just the same. While she saluted me, the other soldiers were less formal in their cheers and salutations for removing the primal threat. I realized then that destroying Titan was the right thing to do as the primal would have destroyed everything perceived as a threat to the kobolds. He would undo homes and farms with the same ease as directing lava flows and landslides. I will leave it to more savvy heads to consider the actions that brought the threat of Titan to Limsa Lominsa now that the threat has passed.

As I left Storm Command, Minfilia contacted me by linkpearl. Y'shtola had told her of what happened in the Navel and Minfilia could not wait to congratulate me for not only felling Titan, but doing so without injury! I thought of all the healing spells I had to cast during the fight and quietly wondered if there was a different word for all the wounds that I had sealed up in my and my fellows' bodies. She promised me a hero's welcome when I returned to the Waking Sands, and made it clear that I was required to report to the Waking Sands at once.

I wanted to comply. I really did. But my first thought after she closed the linkpearl connection was to go back to the Carline Canopy and take a nap. And by a nap, I mean a rest. And by a rest, I mean, as I sit in the Carline Canopy writing these words, it is my intent to sleep for a week. There are no further primal threats known to the Scions. Between Yda and Papalymo, Urianger, Thancred, and Y'shtola, there are many better eyes and ears paying attention to the social and political goings on of the world than me. Minfilia herself is capable of leading the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and any army or company besides. There is no emergency so great that they require me, specifically, to attend to them at once. I may call myself a white mage, but I am no A-Towa-Cant who is able to commune with the elementals as if he were one himself.

And so here, I will finish my ale, finish my slice of eel pie, finish my entry in this diary, and then finish my day. Once I wake up, I will return to the Waking Sands and see what a hero's welcome looks like.

May you, dear reader, ever walk in the light of the crystal.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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papalo-palo · 2 months

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WHM 50, MSQ 34 - Heart of the Forest

I fell asleep in my meditation, and found myself dreaming of a time before I ever set foot in Gridania. When my uncle would come visit the farm with some adventuring friends of his. Mother would be so upset about the ruckus, but he always brought a gift of something useful from his travels to placate her. They always volunteered to help us on the farm in some way. They would visit to rest their soul by tending to the cows and helping with the harvest. No monsters here to slay, except the ones that haunted their dreams.

Some of them were very haunted, such that there was no life to their face and I wondered if they were truly alive. One such wounded soul was always apologizing, as if their presence was a wound on the land. Father would argue with my uncle about his presence, but each time Mother would remind all that her brother had never brought anyone violent to the farm, and that not all wounds could be cured with potion or conjury.

A knock on the door brought me back to the present. A visitor had come to the Carline Canopy to call upon me by name. My friend had arrived with their scion friend's gift to me, however the gift had a requirement for acceptance. The scion required that our mutual friend assist me with trying on each and every bespoken piece of cloth, accessory, and cane. They had guessed at my size and stature, and wanted to ensure that the robes fit me well before permitting me to run out for battle.

Ah, dear diary, the robes fit me better than my own skin! The leather is soft and supple, the cloth is strong but comfortable, and the cane is sized perfect for me and responds to the channeling of mana by a vivid glow! I have seen individual pieces of this set on the Market Board for several thousand gil when made by hobby crafters. These obviously high-quality pieces were likely to demand hundreds of thousands of gil to purchase. My friend showed me where the pieces had been created with slots into which materia could be attached to further enhance the mana channeling ability.

It wasn't until after I had completed donning each and every piece, did my friend explain why the scion omnicrafter required me to test each piece. Now that the armor, accessories, and cane have been fit to my hand, they will never fit anyone else. This prevents me from selling the pieces to another adventurer, even accidentally. As if I would throw away something that costs more than all the gil I have accumulated to date! The idea of discarding such a well-crafted gift for the sake of a bag of coin is distasteful.

The terms of the gift now fulfilled, my friend gave me a deep hug and left to report to the scion that all was well with me.

As much as I wanted to rush to Y'shtola and show her the gift, I knew for what this gift had been given. My benefactor had known that Raya-O-Senna would call for me, perhaps they have the Echo as well, and had told me to tarry until I had received their gift. And so, it is to Raya-O-Senna I shall attend first, to complete the Quieting with her and her brother, A-Ruhn-Senna. The robes will help me channel the aether needed. I only hope that I have the courage and wherewithal to see the ritual to completion.

The Padjal Raya-O-Senna did not challenge why I was wearing foreign robes and not the holy white mage pieces already blessed by the spirit of A-Towa-Cant. She was too busy being surprised that A-Ruhn-Senna had accepted my role in the Quieting, and glad that I had answered her summons as it was time to complete the ritual. We assembled ourselves at the Guardian Tree to quell the rage of the ancient elemental.

However, the elemental would not be lulled into repose that easily. Its rage called forth denizens of the forest to assault us and to drive us away. It was such that the spirit of A-Towa-Cant made himself manifest to join us in putting down the rampaging creatures and healing the wounded soul of the Great One. As I wielded weal and woe in alternating prayers, I found the land's aether flowing through me with a potency I had not expected. The omnicrafter's handiwork allowed me to focus on the mechanics of the situation, so that rather than trying to decide when to gather aether into mana and when to cast mana in a spell, I could focus on when to grant succor to the Guardian Tree and the Padjals, and when to grant peace on the rampaging creatures by returning them to the soil.

It was still a hard series of actions to take, as A-Ruhn-Senna was prone to running out of reach of my spells, forcing me to dog after him to help keep his spirits up, and Raya-O-Senna was prone to ignore her wounds in favor of casting healing spells on the Guardian Tree, such that A-Towa-Cant and I had to often focus our healing on her lest she succumb to rage herself. But after much quick thinking and quicker casting, suddenly, the forest was silent.

As the sun rose, a sweet calm emanated from the Guardian Tree to spread outward around us. The forest quieted and in the stillness, I felt a deep connection to not only the land under my feet, but a great measure of the forest. I felt Frixio's approval in Little Solace and a rumbling mirth from Buscarron. I felt something unsettling near Quarrymill and something soothing in Hyrstmill. I felt the forest living and present. I felt my place within it.

But I also felt that my place was not to remain here. That this was a waypoint in a longer journey. I was not permitted to dwell overlong on my burdens as A-Towa-Cant congratulated me for proving myself worthy to be his successor and departed to return to the lifestream once and for all.

Later Raya-O-Senna confirmed what had occurred and declared me her peer and equal. "Papalo of the White", she called me, with an obvious amount of pride and succor. She granted me the remaining piece of A-Towa-Cant's blessed robes, and a coffer containing a modern set of robes crafted to Stillglade Fane's specifications. I accepted the gifts, even as I silently noted that the scion omnicrafter's robes permits me to channel aether better than what the Conjurers' Guild could provide.

Exhausted, I returned to the Carline Canopy, but not without some gifts of my own to share. With a bag now full of ventures, I not only granted to Rosomoni better equipment so he may explore further, but also paid him well so that he may continue in my employ. He chuckled gently upon receipt of coin and cloth, and reminded me that his work for me was a salve to us both.

All my immediate duties now completed and recorded, I shall end this entry in my diary, blow out the candle, and sleep deep and well in the care of the Twelveswood.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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papalo-palo · 2 months

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WHM 43, MSQ 27

I hired a retainer! When I apologized that it would take me some time to obtain the ventures to pay him for regular service, he just nodded solemnly and said that all things worth doing will always start slow. It is by starting slowly and steadily that we learn how to do things right. He accepted my initial gear as his own with gracious humility as the only job I could give him is the sole job I have as a conjurer, and somehow I feel even great and small for knowing him.

Would that he could be my adventuring companion, but Sable, my chocobo, makes up for the lack. She is a fine friend, even though she is smaller than most breeds. What she does not have in height, she makes up for with tenacity, and is vicious towards any that would attack me. I removed the Twin Adder barding she came to me with. We may both serve the Grand Company as citizens of Gridania, but she is my friend first, and a mount second.

I still struggle with gear. Other adventurers tell me that I could pick up gathering and crafting and make my own gear, but when I inquired of the time and materials required, I realized I just don't have the time for all that. One of my new friends did pull me aside and spoke quite strangely and enigmatically of a friend of theirs that has been watching me with interest from the shadows. Apparently, they are something called an omnicrafter but keep to themselves lest their skills be abused. They sent along a message of encouragement and a promise: If I remain on the path of the White Mage, when I prove myself as dedicated to the art such that I am ready face the trial that Ray-O-Senna and A-Ruhn-Senna will require my assistance with, that they will give me a gift greater than anything Stillglade Fane could grant to me.

I will be honest, my dear diary, I am skeptical of this claim. But my friend was eager that I believe them, and they have not done wrong to me yet.

Speaking of skepticism, I have been so busy that I forgot to record that I had felled a god! And so busy to record my involvement with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, though, for an order that is supposed to be secretive, I am surprised to find that a lot of people already know about them! Also, the Waking Sands is in the basement of a building that is literally on the shore! How is that basement not flooded! Somehow, I suspect the Sharlayan Urianger to have something to do with it. It sounds like mysterious magic is at work, and he is certainly as mysterious as mages come.

So, yes, I have felled the Amalj'aa god Ifrit. If this had been my first encounter with power, I would have been curled up afeared and undone. But after helping clear the grotto of Sastasha, the Tam-Tara Deepcroft, and the Copperbell Mines, facing Ifrit was just another encounter to me. When I told my friends, they smiled and laughed and said that the world had been changed to be kinder to new adventurers and that it was not such when they first came into the world. I asked them to explain, but they said I had more pressing needs than to listen to the aching of old adventurers.

To further catch up on what I have done to date: Minfilia had encouraged me to join a Grand Company! She said that it was my personal option whether to join a Free Company, but it was necessary to join a Grand Company as my skills would be needed by the people of Eorzea more than the Scions. As she would not entertain any further conversation until I had done so, I went to the memorials held in the three city-states and judged each one.

I will be honest again, dear Diary, the Scion Alphinaud said plainly and with better words what was stewing in my heart. I had only seen a portion of the world, and what the three leaders said in their speech to their people was a gross alteration of the facts. How each one painted themselves as the sole voice of reason over their ignorant brethren! How each city-state was to be protected as the last bastion of civilization against the others that have chosen to ignore what had happened!

I see each city-state is falling into old patterns and forgetting the lesson learned on the plains of Carteneau.

But Minfilia was unrelenting, so I went with the people I already know, and joined the Order of the Twin Adder. Is it by this decision that I was granted Sable. And perhaps you will understand why my first free action was to remove the order's barding. We may serve the order on paper, but we are both free.

I must bring my writing to a close. A healer is needed for an adventure into a dungeon, and I am next in line for such an assignment.

May you, dear reader, walk in the light of the crystal.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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papalo-palo · 2 months

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WHM 52, MSQ 34 - All Good Things

It was a beautiful day in Gridania. The morning sun graced the window of my room in the Carline Canopy with a warm embrace. Just enough light fell upon my bed to rouse me. It was a good thing. Though I only slept the night, I felt as if I had slept through an entire week without knowledge.

Rosomoni was quietly waiting for me by the retainer's summoning bell. He had returned from his venture some time ago, but he did not want to disturb me for something so trivial as whatever trinket he had found in his travels. He had heard about my victory over Titan, but admitted he had kept silent about being in service to Titan's Bane. The scars on his face seemed to ache him as he asked forgiveness for keeping his silence.

"Why should I be cross about it?"

"Some would think that I am belittling your achievement."

"When your silence is able to summon Titan back from destruction, then I will worry about it. But, if I may ask, why did you keep silent? From the way Wheiskaet and his peers carried on, they had all but celebrated my victory before I even thought to leave!"

The Hyur touched one of the faded scars. "If I may offer an alternative interpretation, ser. I had heard of the challenges the Company of Heroes had tasked you with, and how you overcame them all, one by one. By the time you had completed their challenges, it was clear that you were going to go face Titan, with their blessing or without it. That feast was not an early celebration of your success, ser. It was a wake. If not to show you honor while you were still alive to receive it, then to show honor to the person you were before confronting Titan. Such battles, ser, do not leave the combatants unmarred. Not all scars are visible. You have a good heart, ser, but it remains to be seen what these challenges have done to it. I am glad that you have returned, ser, and that is what I celebrate. I do not need to tell others of it."

I knew Rosomoni was from Ala Mhigo and that he had seen conflict there before coming to the Twelveswood, but he never spoke of his life before becoming a retainer. The way he touched his scars told me more than any of his words. I know of no conjury that would help heal the scars that cannot be seen.

"Ah, I am remiss, ser. You did not hire me for the stories of old men. In my exploration afield, I found two basilisk eggs! In addition, I was able to gather eleven Allagan Bronze pieces. The other retainers told me to discard both because they are apparently of low value for resale on the market, however, I understand they may still be of value to the junkmongers and trade suppliers. From small earnings do great savings grow."

I accepted his findings with gratitude. I have never seen a basilisk until the Twin Adders sent me afield. And now I was holding an egg of the creature. The shell felt more like a large nugget of strange ore than the egg of a living creature.

I appreciated his dedication to his service and the collection of funds. Eleven pieces of dented bronze probably wouldn't pull the attention of any seasoned adventurer. But I am neither seasoned enough to be jaded, nor rich enough to discard the gil these pieces will bring. Aetheryte fees devour my purse quicker than mice devour grain.

Ah! Aetherytes! Minfilia requested that I return to the Waking Sands. It is good that I still have some Vesper Bay aetheryte tickets so that I may be teleported at no cost to that town.

I assigned Rosomoni to a quick exploration of the realm, and granted him leave to travel wherever he desires. He has taken up conjury after me, and I know that helping others has been a balm to him. He has taken well to the craft and I wonder if I should start saving up ventures so I can purchase a white mage soul stone for him. Soon I will run out of hand-me-downs to give him. I will have to take many jobs from the Adventurer's Guild if I am going to afford to keep us both properly equipped. But that means more random duty assignments. I am not sure if I have the patience to play such a dizzying game of roulette.

I arrived in Vesper Bay and the salt air of the port city seemed saltier than usual. The breeze rushing past me to rise up the transport tunnel reminded me of a butcher shop than an ocean shore. I checked my clothes and wondered if the repairers were able to scrub them as clean as they had claimed. As I approached the Waking Sands, I saw some villagers standing outside the entrance. They whispered to themselves even as they stared at the doors. I stopped well short of them and watched how they were too afraid to go further, but too curious to walk away.

Spectators to a scene, but what had they witnessed?

I recognized one of Vesper Bay's regulars also standing a ways off. I went to ask him if anything had happened or if he had heard any interesting rumors. When I approached him, I recognized Nedrick Ironheart as a fellow Scion. To see one of the order suddenly filled me with a relief as strange as the dread that I didn't recognize was dogging me. Nedrick quietly looked towards the Waking Sands and the small crowd that was gathered there before looking back at me and answering.

"I've been away myself and got back a few moments before you did. But let me tell you, I can't take two steps around this place without hearing Papalo this, or Papalo that. Why, it's as if you're some kind of godsdamned hero!"

He failed to keep the appearance of being annoyed with me and laughed deeply. "Have I heard of anything new? Aye, I have. I know of a place where a skilled adventurer might hone his skills. How about a new battleground to hone your skills. The Aurum Vale! Head southwest through the central highlands of Coerthas and seek out a man named Willielmus–and tell him that Nedrick sent you."

I pointed to the crowd before the familiar door. It was as if he was trying to ignore everything behind him.

"Oh, you meant the Waking Sands?" He looked back over his shoulder to the small crowd in front of the entrance. When he looked back at me, he was no longer smiling. "I have not entered it yet. I have had to get other affairs in order before I see if there is an assignment waiting for me. But you are the hero of the hour! You should report to Minfilia before you go chasing snowflakes in Coerthas. Who knows, she might have an assignment for you near there anyway."

I approached the villagers gathered at the door. I listened to them talk amongst themselves about screaming and loud commotions and all sorts of troubling sounds. I noted the air was now more salty than what the ocean could carry, and more wet as well. It reminded me of the day after a feral hog got into Ma's henhouse. The dread returned.

Tataru was not waiting at the lobby table to meet me. I rushed to the door and forced my way in.

Dark. Silent. Cold. The Waking Sands has never been such, and now it is all three things at once. Once my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I was able to make out the silhouette of a Scion guard crumpled on the floor. The Lalafell was face down and still. I found no trace that I could use to pull him back from the lifestream.

In the hall before one of the many storage rooms were two Hyurs. Once had been struck down without any hint of resistance. The other attempted to strike back but was clearly overwhelmed. Barrels and crates were shattered behind them, their contents broken but otherwise untouched. Whoever did this took nothing but their lives.

I ran towards the stock room where I would sit and talk with the other Scions. In the darkness, my foot caught against something and I tripped over a body. I leapt to my feet before rushing forward to check for life. The person was also too far gone to retrieve. The fabric of their shirt felt strange and I conjured a small ball of light to see.

A Garlean imperial lay dead on the floor.

I stared at the ruthless design of their axe and noted how few battlemarks was upon it. A conscript, forced to fight for the good of the Empire, forced to die for the good of the Empire. But, why here?

Beyond him were the bodied of four Scions. Oh, Una Tayuun! She survived the Carteneau Flats only to fall here. I remember she kept worrying her friend Percevains about not being recognized as one of the Warriors of Light and now here he was beside her in silence.

Inside the main stock room, I almost stumbled over the body of A'aba Tia and Aulie Meulchamps. But Arenvald was not present. Was he able to escape this carnage? The Scion mender's body was not far from them. Her crafting gloves thick with blood. She did not fall easily to her attackers.

Liavinne! No, not Liavinne! We survived Tam-Tara Deepcroft together only for her to be cut down like this? And Haribehrt as well! So far from his brothers… so far from Ala Mhigo…

This isn't fair.

All cold and still. So cold and still. So much so that my power as a White Mage might as well be as useful as white ink on white paper. I couldn't find anyone still alive. Did all this happen while I was taking my so called hero's rest in Gridania?!

Everything in the stock room had been thrown apart or blown asunder. But for all the destruction, nothing was taken.

I realized I still had one room to check. And in the stillness, I realized I had heard no voice at all, not even my own. I raced to the Solar.

Just inside the doors leading to the Solar, I tripped over another body. Clive and Ursula, two of the Students of Baldesion that had come here in pursuit of knowledge, will now learn nothing new. Though I already knew the outcome, I checked their bodies anyway. I wanted to hear them insult me one more time. I wanted to hear someone breathing one more time. Silence.

Beside them was another Garlean soldier with a deadly wound that I could not identify. Beyond them were more Scions, including Satzfloh. The last known Warrior of Light from before the Calamity was now dead. Only the Twelve know where the remaining Warrior of Light might be. Only the Twelve know why the remaining Warrior of Light is still hidden. May the Twelve keep them far from this wretched place.

Inside the Solar was more destruction. Books thrown about the ground. The other Lalafell guard had fallen here to severe blows. On the wall hung the shattered remains of Tupsimati and the stray weaves of power that clung to it. But of Minfilia, there was no sign.

Nor was there any sign of Y'shtola, Yda, Papalymo, Urianger, or…

NORAXIA! I found Noraxia! I was looking so hard for her glamour as a person, that I had forgotten that she is a sylph. What I thought was just another fallen plant, was my fallen friend.

"This one is glad…walking one is safe…"

I bid her to hush even as I was glad to hear her words. She's speaking, which means there is enough life in her that I could add to her aether, that I could…

A flash of light overtook me. And suddenly there was Minfilia! Standing and joyous as she spoke the last words I heard from her. As I saw Noraxia hovering beside her, I realized I was seeing a vision of the Echo.

So when sound of gunfire ricocheted outside the Solar doors, and the Garlean soldiers rushed though the halls, I was unable to move. When the woman in white armor shot through my fellows as slingshots through a paper target, I was unable to scream. The Garleans savaged the rooms in a vain search… for me.

They ransacked the Waking Sands looking for me, by name.

I watched helplessly as Urianger, Tataru, Yda, and Papalymo were marched away. As those Scions that were already injured were murdered and left to rot. All because the Garleans were looking for me and did not find me.

All because I wanted to sleep one more night in a comfortable bed.

The vision now ended, Noraxia whispered Minfilia's message to me even as I tried to pull aether from the land to anchor her own. She asked for forgiveness for her failure to protect Minfilia with her last breath. I wanted to ask her for forgiveness for my failure to save her.

As her body lay still on the floor of the Solar, I realized that there were no other living aether in the Waking Sands except for me. I knelt at her body and cried. I, Titan's Bane, could not protect the very people that called me hero. I wanted the ground to open up and take me the way Titan should have been done with me, but despite all my despair, I could not give up. Not now.

I fled. My guilt fled hot on my heels behind me.

Minfilia's message was for me to find sanctuary at a church in Eastern Thanalan. It would require crossing three major areas to get to it. I thought about traveling by aetheryte to Camp Drybone, but realized that if the Garleans knew to come to the Waking Sands to find me, and were able to sneak in and out of Vesper Bay without being noticed, then it would be trivial to set an assassin at an aetheryte to strike me down before I recovered from the teleport. No, I have my chocobo, Sable. I will travel overland by her speed, avoiding Ul'dah in the process.

I avoided the roads and ran through notorious areas like the Unholy Heir to throw off anyone trying to stalk me in my retreat. The night sky was clear and all the stars in the sky were winking at me but I had no desire to look up at any display of beauty. Every time I closed my eyes, I could only see Noraxia's broken body rejecting the white magic I attempted to heal her with. I could only see my failure as a White Mage, as a hero.

Sable knew where to take me and I only had to look up to confirm this turn or that route. Otherwise, her swift legs brought me quickly to Eastern Thanalan. Other adventurers recognized me from guild assignments and hailed me, but I turned my face away and hid it in Sable's feathers. I did not want to be recognized, much less known. I did not want anyone else to be targeted for knowing my name. I thought of Rosomoni's silence among his peers and whispered a prayer of gratitude for his safety.

Inside the Church of Saint Adama Landama, I ran and staggered to Father Iliud. The gentle old Hyur said nothing about the tears on my face or the chocobo that refused to leave my side. His gentle smile only made my heart feel heavier. When I finally was able to form words, I realized that there may still be the danger of a Garlean spy. How could I tell him what happened without saying it plain?

"The wild roses are dead, Father, and I know not what to do."

His brow furrowed. "…The wild roses? I see. You may speak freely here. We are all friends of the Scions."

He offered a short prayer for Minfilia and the other survivors, and offered me a place to stay to recover myself. He called forth one of the monks, Marques, to assist me with anything. The man was a survivor of the battle of Carteneau, and Father Iliud explained that while the monk's body was whole, the battle had shattered his mind. For that, the man had become quite withdrawn, but he retained a gentle heart. Father Iliud felt it would be good for him to look after me and good for me to have a friend.

But what good comes to those who wait?

As I write these words, Marques has come to me with a flagon of water, a plate of meat, and another candle. He asks if I intend to write further. I can't. He insists that I put the journal away so that I may share a meal with him. I shall.

If there be any light in the world, may you walk within it. There is no light where I am.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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papalo-palo · 26 days

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WHM 53, MSQ 43 – “The Curious Case of Giggity” & “Better Late than Never”

I awoke in my room at the Mizzenmast Inn in Limsa Lominsa. I didn’t realize how tired I was until I looked at the morning sun and thought that I had slept through a whole week at least! But no, it was only one night. Rosomoni was seated quietly at the small table in the room, rolling a ball from the toy chest between his hands. He watched me as I slipped off the bed and stretched to greet the new day.

“Good morning, ser!”

“Good morning, Rosomoni. Have you been waiting long?”

He put the ball back in the toy chest and stood to greet me with a bow. “Not overlong, ser. You needed the rest more than I needed to be heard. I could feel the land giving as it could, but there is something out there in the deep sea that the land is contending with. I feel… I feel that to deny you any moment of rest would be act of deep unkindness.”

“Thank you, Rosomoni. I felt something off as well. … No, I still feel something off, but it is very far out at sea and I only feel it because I am standing still. I have too much at the present to concern myself with, you first and foremost! Tell me, Rosomoni, how fared your travels?”

He bid me to sit on the still warm chair as he described his wanderings. A friend of his had asked for a favor, to bring him some maple sap from the North Shroud since the retainer came and went through Gridania so often. He did, and his friend worked the maple sap into maple syrup and gave him some pots as payment. He placed two small pots of syrup on the table before me and explained how rare the flavor was in Ala Mhigo that he thought he was bringing me something unique and treasured. Only for him to find out how common the syrup is before remembering that I grew up on a farm in Gridania and likely made the syrup myself.

I hadn’t. Mother did. She was knowledgeable in botany and had some amount of formal culinarian training, so it was trivial for her to collect the sap before cooking the syrup herself. And she did so in her pre-dawn checks of the farm before we kids got up. She would have fresh bread on the table with butter and maple syrup every morning.

The syrup that Rosomoni had brought had been made with the same dedication and care as Mother would have. This was the syrup that was kept for home, not sold to any traveling merchant. I could smell the high quality of his friend’s work. I called for some biscuits and butter to be brought to the room, along with an extra chair, and treated Rosomoni to a simple breakfast. He listened patiently as I talked of my childhood. He listened quietly as I mused about how something so simple and banal and ubiquitous as maple syrup could be something so treasured and a balm to the soul.

I hadn’t had maple syrup since…

We finished our meal in silence and cleaned up after ourselves. Just because the room is rented doesn’t mean that we have the right to leave it a mess. We agreed that both of our mothers were likely to emerge from the lifestream to take us to task if we did.

Both refreshed, I tasked him to resume his wandering as an itinerant conjurer for a while, and to bring me a souvenir from his travels. I myself have only seen so little of Eorzea, and his stories do me good by reminding me there is more to the world than the sorrows I know of. We bid each other well, and he left to his wandering, and I left to return to Aleport to finish my business there.

Perhaps that student can point me in the direction of ice-aspected crystals now that they have finished using me to get their business done. As I took to the ferry, I used the rocking motion of the waves to soothe my spite-irritated mind and refocus on the task at hand.

Ceana greeted me in Aleport with the most warmth and openness I have seen out of her. So much so, that when she referred me to her associate in Gridania, I could not dare to allow my face to display any hint of impatience with the matter. Well, I tried to. She tried to assure me that this was not another wild-dodo chase that she was sending me on, and even bragged that I wouldn’t need the warded pot this time. (As if the pot ever had a warding in it, I wonder.) She marked on my map where I could find her associate Hedyn, and sent me on my way.

As Gridania is and remains the city-state to which I am beholden to, I have the opportunity to teleport to the Gridanian aetheryte at no fee. Which, I quickly took advantage of because while the fee would have been about three-hundred gil and I currently have more gil than I ever had before in my life, I find that each little fee adds up to a large hole in my coin purse very quickly if I am not cognizant of my spending.

Ah, Gridania. I wonder if the Elezens that came here from the north brought their chilled dispositions with them and that is why Gridania is so hostile to outsiders. I knew of the Greenwrath and how the elementals of the Twelveswood had forbidden so many to live on the surface for so long, and that the Gridanians are willing to do anything to prevent another Greenwrath occurrence, but I also wonder how much of that reticence is because wherever adventurers gather, there be enough noise to wake the dead! I could not get away from the aetheryte fast enough.

I found Hedyn by Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre comparing her observations with some notations in a book she was reading. Ceana had already informed her of my coming, so she was not surprised to see me. She was quick to declare that none of my efforts had been wasted but the solace did not settle on me. As much as I was happy to be back in a forest, there is something about the city of Gridania that has always left a foul taste in my mouth.

She did not notice my discomfort and thankfully spoke to the literal core of my search. “To the matter at hand―corrupted crystals possessing the properties you seek could be found in abundance at the Standing Corses following the Calamity.” Really? This is great!

“Alas, that is no longer the case…and while there is at least one suitable crystal that remains to be found within the Twelveswood, precisely where it is at any given moment is more difficult to say.” Of course, it is. I don’t know why I hoped for anything else.

She went on to explain that a spriggan, a creature that hoards and sometimes eats ores and stones, had set about literally devouring every corrupted crystal in the Twelveswood. This particular spriggan was very determined in its effort, to the point where there are no corrupted crystals within reach now. At least, not without hunting it down and searching the contents of its guts.

I had heard of the spriggans before, and that their presence was a sign to miners and treasure seekers, but for one in particular to suddenly seek out and devour corrupted crystals like this struck me as odd. Could the elementals have set the spriggan into motion to protect the Twelveswood?

As I thought over this possibility, Hedyn had begun to expound upon a theory of her own about this spriggan that she had nicknamed “Giggity”, before catching herself and realizing that I was not one of her academic peers. Instead, she focused on how to help me lure Giggity out into the open. She gave me a type of rock called a “true heart” and promised me an explanation of the name for another occasion. All I need to do is place this true heart outside the spriggan’s lair and the creature will gladly come to me. As for actually retrieving the ice-aspected crystal, she had no advice for me, and made it plain that that matter was left up for me to derive.

I had to pass the Adders’ Nest on my way to the White Wolf Gate, so I stopped by to turn in the unneeded gear to the Serpent Personnel Officer there for seals that I then turned in to the Serpent Quartermaster for ventures. As much as I appreciate Rosomoni’s friendliness and camaraderie, he is still my hired retainer and I would be remiss not to pay him accordingly.

After passing the White Wolf Gatekeep’s inspection, he permitted me to enter the Central Shroud. I mounted Sable and let her take me to the area that Hedyn had marked on my map. As she quickly covered the distance, I looked over the “True Heart”. The ore had a bright red color, so brightly red, that it reminded me of blood freshly exposed to the air. One of Father’s adventurer friends had once remarked on the color of blood when kept in the body as it is supposed to be in contrast to the color of blood spilled out. I suppose the stone was so named by some romantic who thought it to be representative of loyalty and honesty. After remembering all the animals I have helped butcher for dinner, I have a different perspective.

As promised, the oversized spriggan came for the red ore immediately. It ignored me at first in its rush for the stone but when I didn’t back away from the bait fast enough, decided that it would go through me rather than around me. As Sable rushed forward to defend me, it was not lost on me that this spriggan really wasn’t anything special in comparison to its comrades other than just being a special crystal bearer. As I came to Sable’s defense, I wondered if there was any difference between me and this spriggan. It was collecting corrupted crystals, and I have been collecting pure crystals. Just as my collection has not been by my will, I wondered again if this spriggan had been compelled to seek out its collection.

I wondered when would it come time to harvest mine, and if I would be gutted as easily as I gutted the spriggan.

My rumination continued as I reentered Gridania via the White Wolf Gate and made my way back to Hedyn. I found her at the bridge where I had last seen her. Still making her observations and still referring to her book. I gently tapped her to let her know I had returned. The tapping was unnecessary, as the smell of my reward had let her, and all of Gridania, know that I was here.

She remarked on the beauty of the crystal with the same breathless effort as noting that the digestive juices that was altering the air around us was a protective coating on the crystal keeping us from suffering any ill effects. She pronounced that I had an excellent example of earth-aspected aether, but on seeing my body’s entire reaction, she quickly admitted her poor joke and confirmed that I had a crystal comprised of ice-aspected aether. I don’t know if I was about to scream or cry, but there would certainly have been some type of response if I had been chasing dodo feathers again.

She held out the crystal to me with an apology as I recollected myself. As I wrapped it the best I could so I could tuck it safely into my adventuring bag, she also passed along a message from Professor Lamberteint. “Something about a man names Marques? Apparently the professor misses the intellectual stimulation. Forgive me, I should have written it down.” It is only now that she asks what my intentions were for the crystal due to possible consequences reflected back onto her should I be planning anything nefarious.

My only intent is to deliver the crystal to Cid so I can begin the process of cleaning my adventuring bag. If I don’t get the source of that smell out soon, it will never smell like anything else again.

Fortunately, she didn’t pry further and even excused herself for asking in the first place. An academic that measures words and curiosity? Perhaps I should have her speak with Alphinaud on that topic.

It was late, very late, and I was sure that even engineers have to sleep sometime. I was curious what the professor wanted to say, so instead of going straight to the Enterprise, I allowed my curiosity to spend a free aetheryte ticket to Camp Drybone to speak with the learned man. It is good that I am a Lalafell and not a Miqo’te as the professor had not already completely forgotten that I existed but took me to task for breathing too loud in his presence and insisting that I hold my breath if I were to remain.

There was no satisfaction to bring back the proverbial cat.

With dawn now breaking, I returned to Gridania to deliver the ice-aspected crystal to Cid. Indeed, the sky had scarcely begun to brighten and Cid was already there tinkering with this and that. “All repairs and modifications have been completed, Papalo. Once you bring me that crystal, nothing will stand between us and Garuda.” He did not flinch at the substances covering the crystal once he unwrapped it. Instead, he spoke of his beloved airship as if it were an extension of himself, of his soul. Whatever wounds were in his soul had been treated as he worked on the ship. He still does not have all the memories of who he was before he was the monk Marques, but he has his airship and the ability to work on both it and himself, and this places him at peace.

As he looked over the ship, I felt the land responding to him. No wonder the elementals gave him leave to complete his work here. I felt his intent was not only to fix the airship, to fix himself, but to then lend his aid to any that required it. That intent was supported by the elementals, but to my surprise, they could not lend him aid directly. I have seen the elementals heal a person simply by that person leaning over and touching grass, but with my increased awareness, I realized that I have not seen any aethereal exchange between Cid and any part of the environment around him.

In the inn, I have watched the aethereal exchange between a hot mug of tea and the cold hands that were reaching for the mug and between an arcanist and their carbuncle. In the dungeons, I have watched marauders imbue their axe with aethereal might before a mighty swing. I, myself, have used aethereal exchange passively through meditation and actively through magic. To be in Eorzea is to be part of the very aethereal currents surrounding us.

Except for Cid. It is as if he is made of a substance that is unable to channel aether at all. Aether must be forced upon him at great effort, and I see that he is unable to use any aether that isn’t already bound in a mechanical way like the corrupted crystals. I wonder if this is another side effect of what befell him during the Calamity. I wonder what is under his high-placed goggles. I wonder what Piwa knows.

Cid absentmindedly wipes his hands against his engineering apron and feels something unexpected in a pocket. He pulled out the Allagan gold piece in surprise and hands it to me, muttering that he has no use for it and that I might have need of it. No use for gold? The more I observe Cid, the more odd and unusual he becomes.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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papalo-palo · 1 month

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WHM 53, MSQ 41 - "Into the Eye of the Storm", "Sealed with Science", "With the Utmost Care", "A Promising Prospect", "It's Probably Not Pirates", "Representing the Representative", "The Reluctant Researcher", "Sweet Somethings", & "History Repeating"

In the morning, I summoned Rosomoni to the inn room. He came and remarked that I looked much better than I did the night before. In the morning light, I realized that he did as well. There was something soft about him, but unavoidable. I asked if he had improved in his studies of conjury. Imagine my surprise when he quietly stated that E-Sumi-Yan had just congratulated him for reaching level fifty-two in conjury! Fifty-two! I thought there were no more than fifty ranks within the Conjurer's Guild.

The humble retainer explained that at one time, there were no more than fifty ranks of skill, but the world had changed and conjurers have had to increase their learning and awareness beyond what the Twelveswood can offer. As such, while he had reached the fifty-second rank by virtue of application, the Conjurer's Guild could only teach those up to rank fifty. What lies beyond touches power that the elementals does not want active within the Twelveswood.

"Ser, when is the last time you regarded yourself? The healing that conjury allows me to bring to others, has been reflected upon myself, and I now see things in ways that I never thought possible. Last night, when you returned from Coerthas, I saw your spirit was low and burdened. But now, that you have slept a solid night, I see that you are positively glowing. You are in communion with the land constantly, and I can see the aether rising and falling between you and the land around us. You are no mere child that plucked a weed and are calling it a wand. Though you are a white mage now, our skills are close enough that I see I have more work to do if I am going to progress further. You are certainly at least a rank beyond me in conjury, for sure."

I disagreed. The last time I reckoned my rank within the Conjurer's Guild was when I was called to receive the Soul of the White Mage. After that, I only reckoned my skill as a white mage and thought my rank among the conjurers would be symbolic only. But at Rosomoni's urging, I stood still, looked within myself, and communed with the land.

I felt all of Gridania around me, those areas open to outsiders and those areas reserved for the old clans. I felt the Shroud and the Guardian Tree nearby. I felt the Twelveswood and asked it what did it regard me. And the Twelveswood answered that I was a Conjurer and a White Mage of equal rank, and that they had nothing new to teach me the Black Shroud.

I returned to myself with silent composure. A Conjurer and a White Mage of equal rank. That would place me at rank fifty, yes? Wasn't that the requirement to help participate in the Quieting and to don the omnicrafter's gifts? Rosomoni chuckled as I spoke my thoughts aloud. "I, myself, am rank fifty-two, ser. You must be at least of rank fifty-three as a Conjurer and a White Mage."

Fifty-three. But when Alphinaud called for adventurers and scions to come to my aid to clear the Stone Vigil, those that answered his call were of rank forty-three and noticed no limitations when they entered the dungeon that the keep had become. Is this why I feel the environment's limitations so clearly? Have I become greater than what the land could bear?

Rosomoni did not need the Echo to read the thoughts written upon my face. His laughter chastised me and humbled me. "Ser, if you will permit an old man's story. Once I was monk. I trained in the pugilist's art until I was able to prove myself worthy of Rhalgr. I was so dedicated to the art that my rank was whispered only once my shadow had passed. The last time I cared to measure my rank, it was rank seventy. No one could shift me, until the very world shifted under me. I was so secure in the physical power I could summon for myself, that I was powerless when political power unmade everything around me. Do not worry about your achievements, real or imagined. Worry instead about how you can help yourself, how you can help your friends, and how you can help your friends help you. All else will come and go without your interference or even your awareness.

I thought of Mirabelle, Piwa, and Rhylkhana, the scions that have been my companions on many an assignment. How they talked to me as an equal even though it is clear from the moment you lay eyes on me that I am far above them in skill and rank. How they brought me to my senses, Piwa especially, and comforted me in ways that a number on personality test never could. No, Rosomoni is correct. In time, I will find someone to teach me beyond what the Seedseers can present. Until then, I will help my friends, help my friends help me, and most importantly, help myself.

Rosomoni asked if I had any special requests for him. We both agreed that I had collected nothing worthy of selling on the market board, so he offered to go a-wandering in exploration. He sought to put his conjuring skills to use as a wandering conjurer and I found no reason not to permit him this measure. I paid him two ventures and asked only that if he found something interesting, to bring it back to me as a souvenir.

He departed immediately after. I checked myself and my gear, and finding all to be sound, I left as well.

At the airship landing beneath the Carline Canopy, I found Cid tinkering with the Enterprise as usual, and Alphinaud impatiently waiting for me to arrive and for him to finish.

"Why do you tarry, Papalo? Our work is not yet finished! We must press onward, until the harpy queen lies broken at our feet!"

We? Rosomoni kept warm what Mirabelle, Piwa, and Rhylkhana had inspired, and this boy who hasn't even grown up yet is calling out "we"? Must be in the royal sense.

I left him to pontificate to himself about his importance to check on Cid. I found him near the bow of the ship, looking softly upon the Enterprise. He turned his head to watch me approach and answered my unspoken question. "It calms me to look at her." He turned back to the airship. "It's as though I've been reunited with a part of me I never knew was missing..."

"Hardly surprising." Alphinaud's voice boomed from the observation deck above us. "You did design and build her." He seemed offended that Cid continued to have difficulties remembering who he is, who he was. I wondered if Alphinaud knew what was the significance of Cid's goggles, of what Piwa knew but was keeping silent about, and if the boy was withholding that information lest his pet engineer decide to take his leave.

"I bear good news!" He continued on without any acknowledgement of the man's discomfort. "The Seedseers have granted our request to house the Enterprise. We may take as long as we require to repair her." Cid's barely audible sigh of relief was smothered by the boy's renewed insistence that everything happen now as if we are ignorant of the danger Garuda presents to Gridania and all.

"Though I am no expert on the workings of airships, it seems plain to me that the Enterprise suffered much from her time in the wilderness. Am I not correct, Cid?" Somehow, I kept my chuckles well bound by the belt of my robe. Alphinaud and Cid conversed over the state of the airship and what would be necessary to repair and bolster her. The boy's stately language hit Cid's ear just right and inspired the engineer to find a way to shield the airship from the tempest around Garuda's stronghold. To which Alphinaud demonstrated just how well-schooled he is while also demonstrating his age. Just as Alphinaud began to teach a class on aetheric aspects to me, Cid interjected the lecture to tell me plainly what his plan is.

I do not understand Piwa's reticence when time after time, Cid confirms his desire to help others for no reason than he can.

To find the corrupted crystal that Cid needs, Alphinaud bid me to go back to Camp Drybone and speak to a certain scholar by the name of Lamberteint there. When Cid still did not know himself, when he was the monk Marques, the scholar would take advantage of the stricken man's silence to pontificate for hours about aetheric studies and corrupted crystals. To be honest, I'd rather not, but staying here would mean being lectured by the child even further. At least I can let Sable have her fill of running to get me there.

I found the Elezen scholar in a room in the inn. He sat facing the door with his arms crossed as tightly as his face. The dour look continued until he realized that I did indeed come looking for him specifically, and that I did indeed wanted to hear about his research into corrupted crystals. So happy was he to speak to me, that I did not need to use any of the coin that Alphinaud had given me to "sweeten his ear". I pocketed the six Allagan silver pieces as further payment for all the work the child has me running around to complete.

Lamberteint was thrilled to have a second person to speak to (at length) about corrupted crystals. The first being "a hermit to whom the church had given sanctuary". It was everything I could do to hear Cid, as Marques, be described as "unsociable" and "rather daft at first impression". I had the feeling that regardless as Cid or as Marques, the man just didn't want to be bothered with unnecessary political cruft. Which makes me wonder how is he able to put up with Alphinaud. My reverie ended just in time to hear the scholar confirm that I wanted to harvest a corrupted crystal. When I did, he openly questioned by ability to understand the topic due to the dangerous nature of my request.

Luckily, the scholar just happens to have a warded pot that will make it safe for me to transport a collected crystal. Luckily? Or is it that the scholar has found a suitably ignorant pair of hands to do the dirty work for him. I am beginning to see a pattern here. Either way, he sent me to his student Hahasako at Highbridge, who is supposed to teach me the finer points of crystal harvesting and lent me a warded pot to contain a corrupted crystal.

I found Hahasako gazing over the rift at Highbridge. As I approached, they whirled on me to explain that they weren't contemplating jumping to their deaths, but were just taking measurements. I stopped their rant by presenting the warded pot, which changed their accusations to that of theft until they realized that the professor himself had lent me the pot. Hahasako quickly ran through a series of logical steps to conclude that my appearance meant that the professor was finally recognizing Hahasako's achievements. In his glee, he shoved six Allagan silver pieces in my hands to share his joy.

My arrival had perfect timing, as Hahasako was about to get some corrupted crystals from the Burning Wall for his own research. He lent me a highly advanced researcher's tool and marked on my map where I would find perfect specimens for both of our needs. He bid me to bring back a small fragment of corrupted crystal in the warded pot for his inspection. Following his instructions, the map, and Sable's sense of direction, Sable carried me through hillside tunnels filled with glowing orange crystals, past giant hairballs floating in the wind, past ghastly animated assemblages of jagged shards of steel and crystal, through fields of doblyns nibbling on crystals, to a pool of water at the base of a large waterfall.

I dismounted and listened to the conversation the rushing water and the gentle breeze were having with each other. I know the professor and his student spoke of great destruction here, and it is true that this area was greatly changed in the Calamity. Listening to the land, I heard how it was healing. How the quartz doblyns were keeping the growth of corrupted crystals in check. How the mirrorknights prevented worse predators from establishing themselves. How the golden fleeces fed on impurities in the air, keeping them from being blown across Thanalan. Yes, the area had been changed beyond recognition, but it was coming to terms with itself in a way that was restoring balance to the greater areas. It was quiet, and peaceful.

"Excuse me. Is it okay if I start fishing here? You're in my favorite spot." I didn't realize my eyes were closed until I opened them at the greeting. A Hyur waved sheepishly at me.

"Oh, no, by all means. I apologize for being in the way." Sable had already moved over so I caught up with her. The Hyur thanked me sat down where I was just standing, and began fishing. Instead of ruining the atmosphere, his presence only confirmed that the Burning Wall held some kind of healing here. There can be peace in the midst of destruction, but it requires standing still to perceive it.

However, Alphinaud will not take kindly to such contemplation, so I used the highly advanced researcher's tool and crudely broke off a fragment of corrupted crystal. Wait. If corrupted crystals were that dangerous, then how could the fisherman sit here for hours? I examined the borrowed tool and quickly identified it as nothing more than a quarrying maul, the same that a miner would be using anywhere. The maul did its work well and just as fast I had secured the fragment in the warded pot. As I left, I passed the fisherman and asked him if he had any problems with corruption here.

"Here? None at all. Lemme guess, some scholarly bloke warned you about the dangers of the corrupted crystals here at the Burning Wall, right? What he didn't tell you is that you have to activate the corrupted crystal for it to have any effect on you. And because they're corrupted, they take a lot of aether to waken the energies within it. I've been fishing here sometimes all day long and the only thing affected is my lunchbox. We may be in Thanalan, but we're far away from the streets of Ul'dah. You can't just find corruption anywhere here, you have to make it yourself."

He laughed at his joke and turned his attention back to the rod. I sighed and started to make my way back to Hahasako.

Only to run into a giant mirrorknight called the Big Bagoly. For all my recognition of a new balance being established, the land made it clear to me that Big Bagoly was not part of this new balance and had to be dealt with. The fisherman looked over his shoulder at the ruckus, cried out to see the giant, and scrambled to get clear of the unwelcome creature. As he fled, he yelled at me to stay away from Big Bagoly as the creature destroys farms, farmhouses, and farmlands for no reason other than to create destruction.

How much the thing reminded me of feral hogs grown too large for the Twelveswood to support. I gave thanks to Nophica for this fateful encounter and ran towards Big Bagoly with Sable right behind me. It was just the two of us, and Big Bagoly's aura was such that we were limited in our abilities again, but this time I was neither surprised nor unable to reckon with this fact. I kept the monster's attention while Sable pecked and kicked it from behind. The land gave us assistance with blessings of regen and cures as needed. All I had to do was remain aware of where I was and what I was doing. In the end, the Big Bagoly fell and the aether that made up its being was returned to the accepting land.

The fisherman returned. "Is it over? Usually the mirrorknights don't bother me, but something that big is going to leave a mark just by passing through. Thank you for clearing my favorite spot again!" He sat right back where he was before and resumed fishing. I healed myself and Sable back to our normal fullness, mounted the chocobo, and sped back to Hahasako as fast as Sable's legs could take me.

Hahasako inspected the crystal, proclaimed it good enough, and bid me to present it to the good professor and to make sure the good professor knew that Hahasako's good research is what enabled me to present the matter. I get it, everyone wants a good grade in class, but good grief, he sure is laying it on thick.

Back at Camp Drybone, Professor Lamberteint all but smelled the corrupted crystal in the warded pot. He gladly pronounced an excellent specimen of a corrupted crystal overflowing with wind-aspected aether. The triumph fell from his face when he realized that I needed a corrupted crystal to breach a barrier comprised of wind-aspected aether. "Oh dear... That may prove problematic, as this crystal would only serve to strengthen the barrier." He lamented sending me the wrong way, but then congratulated me for learning something in the process and assured me that the collected crystal would help progress aetherial studies being conducted by the Students of Baldesion. Where have I heard that group before?

Ah, the students that were killed at the Waking Sands were from this order.

The professor noticed that I had suddenly become quiet, but as I had not spoken anything, he continued on with his quickly forgotten explanations. When he stopped speaking, he gave me an Allagan gold piece as payment for the corrupted crystal I had collected. That should fetch me between two to three thousand gil. Not that it would bring those two students back to life. I accepted the payment and pocketed the piece and my guilt.

Professor Lamberteint told me of his student Ceana, who was sent to La Noscea in search of other corrupted crystals. Though she was apparently having a hard time dealing with pirates, Imperials, and a Dalamud death cult that was active in the area. But besides all that, perhaps it would be worth my while to go to her in Aleport (with the warded pot so she'll take me seriously) and look for a lightning-aspected crystal there.

Let's see, I'm in Eastern Thanalan right now, I would have to travel to Vesper Bay in Western Thanalan, take the ferry to Limsa Lominsa, and then take the ferry Aleport, or I could teleport by aetheryte for... how much gil?! How many Vesper Bay aetheryte tickets do I still have? Okay, so port to Vesper Bay and...

Vesper Bay. This is the first time I have set foot here since taking the bodies to the lichyard. I didn't have to check on the Waking Sands, or what's left of it, but I had to check for... personal reasons. In the outer room, Tataru's books are still on the table. The quill at the ready to make fresh marks as she checked the monies coming in and out of the organization. Inside was still dark. A stool still knocked over. Barrels still burst asunder and their contents spilled out. The stockroom still in disarray and now smelling like salt and regret. The Solar was just as I had left it, minus Noraxia's broken body in the corner. Tupsimati remained shattered in its frame on the wall, still in the same state as Louisoix left it behind on the flats of Carteneau. Inside was still dark.

Still silent.

For some reason, the state of the Waking Sands reminded me not of the Garlean Empire, but of Lahabrea. There was something about that Ascian that was very familiar. But he was fully masked and hooded each time we met. Was it his body posture, then? His voice? The way he held himself? Something about him is very wrong but I did not have much time in the Stone Vigil to ask the land to help me perceive him. Regardless, the emptiness of the Waking Sands was reminding me of Lahabrea, that his was a state of being that just should not be.

Ah well, I had best continue my travel to Aleport before Alphinaud comes looking for me. I think if I were to be scolded by the youngest scholar ever, I would snap and become the villain I have been set against.

The travel to Limsa Lominsa was as expected. From the grand port, I raced across the city to the ferry and paid Rerenasu 40 gil to take me to Aleport. All in all, I spent only 120 gill to get from Camp Drybone to Aleport. A far better price than the 571 gil aetheryte fee that was requested. If I am ever to have a home of my own with a garden beside it, I need to save all the gil I can now.

Caena was right where the professor said she would be. Not gazing at the corrupted crystal embedded lighthouse that could be seen from Limsa Lominsa, to my surprise, but simply out to sea, where her thoughts were scattered on the glittering waves. That lack of thought translated into a biting retort when I asked her about corrupted crystals until I showed her the warded pot. She realized her error, apologized, and then after pronouncing herself the greatest of the professor's students, began an impromptu lecture her background. Fortunately, she only got half a sentence in when she realized what she was doing and brought herself to a halt.

She explained that she feels the corrupted crystals at the Isles of Umbra would be excellent specimens, but access to the isles is prohibited to everyone, including her. No amount of explanation or introduction has gotten her any closer to the isles and she is quite frustrated by the entire matter. So much so, that she has given up attempting to gain access and wished me luck in trying to do the same.

In speaking with the Yellowjackets stationed in the area, I heard stories of spirits and specters haunting the Isles of Umbra, of death thrice assured to anyone that travels there, and graveyards of ships and sailors alike. I almost regretted telling Caena what I had heard, as the idea of encountering the undead has taken the life from her face. She quickly concluded that all the stories I was told were just that, stories, and that the most rational reason for the travel restriction was because of whatever caused the abandonment of the Pharos Sirius lighthouse. She came to this conclusion because while I was talking to the Yellowjackets, she had heard of a sailor returning from the Isles of Umbra. The sailor is not available for her to interview because he did something and got himself arrested. Would I be so kind as to speak to him on her behalf?

I know I come from a homestead farm in the backwoods of the Shroud, but the number of people that really treat me like I just fell off the popoto cart is increasingly infuriating.

Skyfryn stood in the cell staring blankly at the far wall. When I called his name, he approached the gate, but the vacant stare never focused on me. Instead, he kept muttering that he had to go back. There was someone calling out to him, singing to him. Finally, he looked down at me. "Tell Mimidoa I'm sorry. Give him this. He was...he was right... Or...or you could release me? Yes...yes...release me. I will go and tell her... Let me...let me go to her..."

He stopped speaking to me, or at me, or in my general direction, and instead slowly turned his gaze towards the Isles of Umbra. His face never lost its slack appearance, and I realized where I had seen that expression before. In Haukke Manor when Lady Amandine had ensorceled us to draw us towards her. This was a man that had been seduced sometime on the island and was still under the seduction even now. He must not be released.

When I informed Ceana of my observations, she dismissed him as just another love-struck sailor pining for the bar wench that refused him. But she recognized Mimidoa as the person who grabbed her butt the other day at the pub. As speaking with him seems to be the only way to gain access to the Isles of Umbra, she requested that I be the one to speak to him lest more foul actions occur than just the grabbing of other people's body parts.

I found him, not at the pub but outside it. Though whether he was checking the goods or checking the body of the woman checking the goods, was not clear. When I tapped him on the shoulder, he whirled around to tell me to state my business. Instead, I handed him the yellow feather that Skyfryn gave me. He blanched to see it and questioned how I obtained it. When I told him who gave it to me, he was surprised at the state I found him in. He and Mimidoa had been sent to fix Pharos Sirius on the Isles of Umbra. Skyfryn sent to do the work. Mimidoa sent to supervise the work as a good number of the workers had either walked off, ran off, or flat out vanished.

When the Lalafell discovered that I had been seeking access to the island, he was happy to hear of it. He had been looking to send someone to the Isles of Umbra anyway, to discover and report on what has befallen the island, but no one has responded to his request until I showed up. It has been his intent to hire sellswords to clean out the island and be done with it, but beggars can't be choosers and so it will be me and him. He gave me a writ to give to the ferryman for access and sent me on my way.

I went to Ceana to show her the writ granting us access but her dour disposition had returned. She saw speaking with Mimidoa to be a complete waste of time, and to be fair, he did unkindly towards her after all. She examined the writ and questioned its authenticity when realizing that he was Skyfryn's supervisor, but ultimately accepted it as genuine. She bid me luck with all the discoveries I would be making on the Isles of Umbra, without her. Between unkind sailors and unwelcome spirits, she decided this was one story she would not be involved in.

I put my foot down. If I am going to be dragged into another set of complications, then the person stirring up that complication is coming with me. She threatened to haunt me if some ill action befell her and I accepted that as her terms and conditions. The ferry skipper tried to refuse me passage as he had been refusing everyone else passage to the Isles of Umbra, but when confronted with the writ, he acquiesced and took us over.

The island was cold, damp, and isolated. I wondered if the fisherman I met at the Burning Wall would also be satisfied here. Ceana made it obvious that she would be satisfied any place else but here. She tried to steel herself to come with me, but ultimately realized the limitations of her bravado. She handed the pot back to me and told me to go on without her. After explaining to whom I needed to speak to in order to gain access to Pharos Sirius, she turned back to the ferry skipper and left the island at once.

Davyd stood guard at the locked gates of Pharos Sirius. Even after I explained what I came for, he apologized and turned me away. Turned out that the writ only granted me access to the island, but nothing about access to the stricken lighthouse. Until the giant crystal that struck the lighthouse can be removed, and the aetheric contraptions that make up the lighthouse be repaired, access within is restricted to repair crews only. Repair crews that have either fled in fear, fled in madness, or straight up disappeared.

Davyd knew some of what drove the crews away and that they are still present on the south side of the island. He offered a trade. If I would help him find out what happened to the crew, he would fetch a corrupted crystal for my warded pot. Sounds like a fair trade, so I agreed to it. He was even so helpful as to point me to three adventurers that came to the island to scavenge from the wrecked ships. Speaking to them should be my first step.

I found them a little further inland, at the mouth of a wee bay that granted their vessel entrance from the sea. The lead marauder was frustrated that five year's worth of shipwrecks and abandoned cargo were laying out clear for the taking, but between the queer dead and a "quite nice" voice, the team were not able to pluck so much as a grain of sand, much less any treasure. The other marauder was shivering, but not from the chill. He spoke of a voice that sang out a single fleeting verse, but that voice carried such a strong power that it took every onze of his strength to resist it. He warned me against going to the southern shore where the shipwrecks were. The arcanist sat on a supply box, staring at the remains of their cooking fire. He looked at me and spoke about dead people just shambling about without aim or care, until something starts to draw them to the water. He shuddered, looked back at the dead coals, and said nothing else.

As I left them to return to Davyd, I found my way blocked by animated skeletons! These undead men wandered about as if seeking something. Somehow, a deep moaning could be heard from each and everyone of them. The land shuddered under me to bear them and I felt their yearning for rest. But something had bound them to their remains, so that there would be no rest for as long as their bodies were intact. I pulled my staff to the ready and Sable knew it was time to defend me. Together, we endured this fateful encounter and silenced at least twelve of these dead man's moans. As each one fell apart, the moan turned into a fading sigh of relief. I felt their aether slipping away to the lifestream and knew that for the ones we unmade, there was peace for them. To the south, I could feel something greedy for aether and hungering for more. But this was not the time to investigate.

Having cleared the way, I returned to Davyd and informed him of what the adventurers reported and my own fateful encounter. When he realized that an alluring voice was at the center of all the stories, he started to wonder aloud about some creature long presumed extinct. What broke him from his suddenly fevered state was him remembering that "Master" Mimidoa had also returned to the island. He had grown tired of waiting for me to return to Aleport and chose to come in person to see what was up. I found him waiting beside the Ferry Skipper. Ceana did not come with him.

He summarized my report as "Some honey-voiced harlot's been callin' out to folk what wander near the Ship Graveyard? An' it's stirred up the dead an' all?". While I question whether his summary would be suitable in a report to his superiors, I can't fault him for making the point excessively well. He laughed and spoke of the days he sailed as a pirate under Mistbeard (that Mistbeard?) but then brought himself swiftly to the present as he realized the creatures from his past have made their way to the present. "I knew deep down in me bones as this day would come. An' come it has. Aye...I'd bet me bum ear a siren's behind all this."

He spat on the sand. "Them what's got feathers, an' lure sailors to a watery grave with their sweet, sweet song." He went on to explain that once a man has been ensorceled by a siren, that he is bound to her even after his death. That his corpse will continue to serve her until it falls apart. That explains the dead man's moans that I encountered and put down. He handed me a pair of earplugs to wear and showed me a second pair kept in reserve for him. After helping to dismantle a siren nest once before, he was always prepared to defend himself from their kind. He explained that we didn't have time to call for help, as likely no help would come when it was clear what they would be facing. Instead, it fell to him and me to take on this siren. He didn't wait for me to argue, but donned the earplugs and immediately set for the south side of the island.

How very different from nearly everyone else that has asked for my aid since I set out from Gridania! I had to race behind him to keep up!

I apparently turned the wrong way as I found myself on a secluded area of the southern shore. I recognized the lammergeyer bird as quarry on my hunting log. In taking advantage of my misdirection, I put down two of the cloudkin as requested and found a Magic Pot! A voidsent was bodily in the pot such that only its head and hands were sticking out. It watched me as I approached with my staff at the ready.

"Gimme an elixir!" Its demand caught me off guard.

"What?"

"Gimme an elixir!" It said nothing else but made a grabbing motion with its hands. I realized then that the pot was the voidsent's body. Whatever had summoned it had done a poor job of the ritual and now the voidsent was trapped in the pot.

"What will you do if I give you an elixir?" Sable sniffed carefully at the pot as I felt the land for aether traps.

The voidsent said nothing, but willed information into my mind. It will give me the sun in exchange for an elixir, but will give me the moon in exchange for a hi-elixir. Empty voidsent promises, just like what happened at Haukke Manor. I turned to walk away. The voidsent hopped angrily in its jar and willed more information into my mind. It is not promising the sun, but a sun minion. It is not promising the moon, but a moon minion. A facsimile of the real thing that can fit in my pocket and is completely obedient to me.

I wanted to test the exchange, but had neither elixir nor hi-elixir with me. I mounted Sable. "If I get either one, I'll be back. Betray me, voidsent, and I will unmake you like I have done to your brethren."

The creature hopped in obvious anticipation. Sable regarded me oddly as I did not give the command to attack. "Not this time, my friend. While I am averse to bargains with voidsent, and have seen what happens when you consort with them for too long, I have also seen voidsent that worked to help, worked to heal. Perhaps I should speak with E-Sumi-Yan in Stillglade Fane first before I return here. There may be something I don't know to this Magic Pot."

Leaving that area, I quickly found Mimidoa. He was on the shore, facing the southern sea. His face did not have that slack affect, only the set jaw of someone who had to do something detestable once, and is about to do it again. He had set a blazing campfire on the shore and explained that if the siren passes nearby, she will see the fire, and come looking. We just have to hurry up and wait, now.

Wait we did. And wait. And wonder if we had been lied to after all, while waiting. And as we waited, I felt a familiar suffocating feel accumulate in the aether around us. Something great and monstrous was approaching. Something that fed off the aether of the land and those upon it. Something limiting what abilities I can pull and what reserves of aether I could draw on. We were not lied to. The siren comes.

Mimidoa heard her just as I confirmed the boundaries that had been set. He pointed off shore where something large and yellow and feathered floated effortlessly. He yelled at me to plug my ears and prepare for battle, as once the siren realizes that I am immune to her enchantments, she'll seek to defeat me the old-fashioned way, by brute force.

It started off with men still breathing. Enchanted completely and unable to form independent thought, much less cry out when struck, they came at me in increasing number. And then the men weren't breathing, but drowned completely. Clouded eyes unable to focus rolled aimlessly as their weapons sought to pierce me. And then the dead men weren't flesh, but only bones. Animated skeletons still serving their siren master. As their bones shattered, their released spirits returned to the lifestream. And then there was only their captain, or what was left of him. Of unnatural size and strength due to the magic of the siren, he was committed to adding me to his supernatural crew. All the while, I was dodging ensorceled balls of water that the siren sent to the shore. Each one contained poison, restraint, madness, or some combination of all three. It was everything I had to dodge everything while leading the undead captain around the shore so that the biting wind spell I had placed on him would do its work. Ultimately, it did. The siren's army now defeated, she remained off shore and out of reach of my spells. Instead, she withdrew, taking the limiting pall with her.

The work now done, I ran up the shore to Mimidoa who was standing far enough away to not attract the siren, but close enough to assist me if necessary. He congratulated me for defeating her and wished that I could have done more. But what I had done was enough for now. Only now does he ask me for my name, and only now does he realize that I was not sent by his company to come help him. Surprised, he started to ask why I had done anything, but realized it was far too late for those questions now. Triumphant, he returned to Aleport, and I returned to Davyd.

Davyd had been in denial that a siren was present on the south shore until presented with the proof of her defeat. He noted that he had heard stories of Master Mimidoa being involved in a siren purge, but never really gave it much thought. However, he had something better than a story. He had my warded pot with a corrupted crystal within it. Quickly, I went to the ferry skipper so I could also return to Aleport and show Ceana the hard won prize.

Ceana's first order of business was confirming that I was alive. Despite all the evidence to confirm my state as still amongst the living, she still looked at me suspiciously. Accepting me at my word, she then inspected the contents of the warded pot. "Congratulations, Papalo! Seldom if ever have I encountered a corrupted crystal composed of such a volatile overabundance of fire-aspected aether."

... What?

Not ice?

I came here for a corrupted crystal of ice-aspected aether to counteract the effects of a raging wind! To calm it down! To literally freeze it in place! I'm sure I said that at the start!

Ah. Well. Here I sit, in the inn in Aleport, having one of the local ales to calm myself. I'm too wound up to commune with the land, and the land is too wound up to commune with me. There's something in the water that has everyone and everything on edge, but it's too far out at sea for me to understand just what.

So, as I bring this diary entry to a close, I shall finish my ale and let Sable carry me to Limsa Lominsa so that I may have a rest in the inn there. Away from scholars, undead, and shattered lighthouses.

May you, dear reader, walk in the light of the crystal.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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papalo-palo · 1 month

Text

WHM 52, MSQ 40 - "The Heretic among Us" & "In Pursuit of the Past"

Lord Drillemont was angry. Angry as he recalled how many innocents had been murdered. Angry as he recalled how the edicts of the Holy See was used against him. Angry as he recalled how willingly he accepted the impostor's ruse and helped him to complete his evil acts. Lord Drillemont was very angry, and very focused. The impostor was at a certain area called Snowcloak about to pronounce judgement on someone condemned as a heretic. He asked me to lend him my weapon and my power and help save the doomed person.

Of course, I will.

A knight of House Durendaire had already arrived by the time Sable made her way past the baritine crocs choking the path to the glacier. Next to the ice, I could see the false inquisitor dominating over a Hyur woman. The knight waved me over. We were supposed to wait for Lord Drillemont and the others, but by the looks of things, the false inquisitor was about to slay the woman himself. The knight and I looked at each other, and in silent agreement, readied our weapons.

As we stood, Lord Drillemont arrived with more knights. The woman was demanding to know why the inquisitor was calling for her death when his lordship called out for the false inquisitor to surrender. When the false inquisitor challenged his lordship, Lord Drillemont laid the matter plain before all by condemning the impostor as a heretic and a betrayer to Ishgard. In response, the imposter only laughed. Deep rumblings that trembled the ice under our feet. His unsettling aura increased as he declared that he is no betrayer to that which he never gave allegiance to. He called out Lord Drillemont's guilt for acting in blindness and declared that all Ishgardians are worthy of death for the crime of being subservient to the archbishop. I realized that the monologue was a stalling tactic and that the impostor had been gathering aether this entire time. At the end, now fully empowered and prepared, he opened his arcanist's book and prepared for battle in the name of Dravanian steel and claw.

He poisoned our bodies and tainted the very air, but I was able to undo the magics meant to debuff us of our health. He summoned wyrmhounds to vex us with their gaze and we were able to dodge them all. When I saw him drinking something that looked like dragon's blood, I was horrified. He took that fear and transformed himself into a minor dragon! But Lord Drillemont held his ground and called him out for using illusions to vex us. More wymhounds came to his call but in the end, all was undone, including the glamour. At last the imposter was brought to ruin.

But he still had some words in him.

He declared that blood had been repaid with blood and that the families of those he put to death will not forget who failed them. Even as his life drained from him, he spoke his only regret, that I still lived. He promised I would meet my death in the Stone Vigil, and that Whitebrim Front would fall soon after. Spite could hold him up no longer and he collapsed onto the ice, where Lord Drillemont ordered his men to leave him to the crows.

His lordship looked like he has aged twenty years in the span of twenty minutes. He thanked me for staying true and assisting him, and returned my attention to the airship. Yes, he will grant me and my associates access to the Stone Vigil. All I need to do is collect those same associates and speak with him back in Whitebrim Front. When I caught up with Alphinaud, he was put out that I had ran off without telling him what had happened, but now that all was said and done with the imposter, it was time to take back the airship as was originally planned.

Lord Drillemont extended his reasoning for rejecting us and his apologies for holding to that error. He then confirmed what we already knew: That the airship had been seized by the forces stationed at the Stone Vigil and brought inside the keep. That the keep fell to Dravanian forces after the Calamity. And that there is no promise what condition the airship is in and no timeline for the retaking of the keep.

Alphinaud declared that Ishgardian help would not be needed for taking the airship. He assured Lord Drillemont that we would be able to enter Stone Vigil and take back the airship, and by "we", he meant "me". Too quickly I nodded along to his idea before I realized that he was writing a promise that I would be tasked to fulfill. Before I could speak up, Lord Drillemont accepted the inevitable at face value and promised to send word along to Ser Nathelain to grant us entry past the guarded gate to the Stone Vigil.

Sable brought me quickly through the night air to the secured gate where Ser Nathelain stood guard. He had already received the missive and was waiting for me to enter. Alphinaud bid me wait, however. Though the raid on the Waking Sands was a deeply cut blow to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, the order was not scattered to the four winds. The moment entrance into the Stone Vigil was secured, he had put out a call for other scions to assemble to help me. I would be tasked to recover the airship, but I would not be expected to complete that task alone. Tarry but a moment, he said, and I will have the help I have become accustomed to.

The sun had just set when a familiar voice called out from the heavy fog. "Papalo! What did you get yourself into this time?!" My dear marauder strode up to me, doing his best to be only a little bit happy to see me. "I heard... and... then when I heard Ser Alphinaud needed a strong shoulder, of course I had to come. And then when we came through Whitebrim Front and I heard everyone muttering about a wee little shite of a Lalafell getting in everyone's business, I hoped... and..." He muttered something about the cold affecting his face and took a step back.

"What he's trying to say is that we're all glad that you're alive, Papalo! We were helping the Order of the Twin Adder by making a sweep of Haukke Manor again when all that happened at the Waking Sands." The lancer braced her weapon on her shoulder. "I knew you wouldn't go down that easy, not Papalo Titan's Bane Palo!"

I know she meant well, but I could not share her relief as she laughed in joy. The scion thaumaturge was more reserved in his greeting. He watched me wince at the title. I watched him wince as something crossed his mind. When he looked back at me, it was with sorrow and I realized that he bore the Echo. I paled as I realized what he had likely seen. "Not your fault, Palo. Everyone did what they thought was right at the time, including you."

His companions looked literally down at the Lalafell in sudden confusion. He did not return their gaze but pulled his robes closer and pushed his fogged glasses closer to his face. "Come." He spoke as somber as I felt. "It is too cold out here to have emotional outbursts and too dangerous in there to succumb to our feelings. We have been called here to aid our brother-in-arms. Tell us, White Mage, how can we support you in your duty?"

I checked with Ser Nathelain if my fellows could accompany me inside or if I would need to get special permission for them as well. The Elezen shook his head and waved them through. "Every knight in Whitebrim Front is praying for your success. May the Fury guide and protect you." He briefed us on what we could expect inside the keep and unlocked the gate. The marauder, lancer, thaumaturge, and I entered first. The plan was for us to clear the way for Alphinaud and Cid to follow behind us, explore the Stone Vigil for the ship, and then secure the area while the two prodigies did their tinkering. The gate had scarcely been slammed shut and locked behind us when we saw our first dragons.

"It will take more than a few dragons to stop us." My dear marauder hefted his axe and charged forward immediately. Our combined skills had greatly improved since the last time we ventured forth together. None of us were the hesitant neophytes that first met at the Sastasha grotto. However, we still were taken by surprise when we rounded a corner and a dragon dropped in the shattered roof to leave a blazing trail of fire and pain upon us. We ducked into the first open room to heal and recover.

"Papalo, I'm not going to rush us through. I don't want another surprise like that to drop in on us. I will be honest, the dragons have filled every stone with their aura and I won't be able to use all of my skills at their peak. So, we'll take this room by room, group by group, if that's okay with you."

I was surprised that he would ask that of me, as if I was the one leading this expedition. "Yes, that's okay. I feel limited as well, but I'm not overwhelmed. I'll let you know if we need to pull back or slow down."

And with that, we went back into the main hall and made our way through the keep, room by room, group by group. When dawn broke outside, the sudden brightening of the sky revealed just how shattered the keep was and why it was so cold in here despite all the dragonfire. For many sections, there was no roof protecting the interior rooms from the elements. Support beams were burnt to ashes and stones were shattered from heat and impact. The dragons had no problem keeping themselves warm, but this frigid environment only limited us further.

The slow pace permitted me to help stone down the dragons we came across while also keeping the marauder connected with the land around us. A regen blessing rejuvenated him and kept him standing against most onslaughts. He also bore the Echo and moved out of reach from the more damaging attacks. But still the dragon that dropped in on us at the start continued to catch us unawares. Each time, as we wiped the ash off our faces, we were only that much more determined to clear the keep.

"Hang on, that's Chudo-Yudo." The thaumaturge stopped when we rounded a corner and saw a large dragon waiting for us in the courtyard below. "I heard some of the knights in Whitebrim talking about him. He's apparently slow to move and quick to belch fire. Palo, you and I should stay behind him as much as we can." I agreed. Our places now confirmed, we jumped down to confront the dragon.

We quickly found out that the gossip was wrong. Chudo-Yudo is quick to move and quicker to belch fire. The thaumaturge and I were hard pressed to stay behind the beast as it would suddenly scramble quickly to a far wall, turn, and swinge at anything and everyone in its wake. The dragon did its best to cook the marauder in his armor for the entire fight, but I was better at keeping him safe and lukewarm. After a few minutes that felt like a few hours of competitive sprinting, Chudo-Yudo lay motionless on the ground before us.

"Seven hells. I pray we don't face another of those beasts." As I agreed with the marauder, I realized I didn't know his name, only his profession. I didn't know the names of any of my companions, even though they know mine quite well. Have I been so engrossed in my path that I have forgotten my manners? I resolved to find out more about these scion companions of mine once we recover the airship.

More surprise aerial attacks. More packs of dragons waiting for us. More dragons just around the corner. More snow falling through the shattered roof and ice elementals blown in on the wind. I hoped Alphinaud had found something warm to wrap up in our wake. Suddenly our way forward was blocked by a wall of eternal dragonfire, herding us to what remained of the right brattice. There, we found the dragon that had been scathing us from above, Koschei. The creature shrieked at us in delight of having new toys to play with and new bones to crunch. It waited for us to rush it with open wings and we obliged it willingly.

We were so prepared for assault by fire, that we were caught off guard by the sonic storms that the wyvern called upon us. Proving that it was a master of the winds, Koschei regularly called typhoons to sweep across the exposed brattice in an attempt to launch us off of the keep into the crevasse below. But once we saw the pattern of its attack, with the aid of the Echo we were able to wear down the cruel wyvern until it lay shattered at our feet. Breaking the wyvern also broke the wall of dragonfire that impeded us, and we continued on our way.

But not before I looked up and saw how clear and close the city of Ishgard was. As the sun set and the darkness of night moved to obscure the city once again, I wondered how close was the city to being overrun and if our efforts here meant anything more than a token victory.

We moved deeper into the keep. No more surprise aerial attacks, but there were more packs of dragons waiting for us, more dragons just around the corner, and more ice elementals blown in on the wind. Night had fallen and while I did not think the temperature could fall any further, it did. Room by room, we cleared the way for Alphinaud and Cid to follow us in our wake.

Finally, we had cleared the path to the Strongroom where the Enterprise had been secured within the keep. The gate's lock had been made fragile by dragonfire and eternal winter cold. It only required a rough shaking for the gate to swing open. Once open, we could see the airship on a section of wall on the far side of the Strongroom. I wondered if the knights at the time thought to refurbish it themselves and take their battle to the air. Alphinaud and Cid caught up with us as we surveyed the area.

"Look! It's the Enterprise!" Smart boy, that Alphinaud. Nothing escapes his gaze except the rest of the room.

"Yes...just beyond that enormous sleeping dragon." Cid's rejoinder was as quiet as it was pointed. A massive blue dragon was curled up in the open floor of the Strongroom. The ceiling had collapsed and the lack of roof made this a great place for dragons to take a nap without interruption from frenzied knights.

"The dragon is not our concern. We have come for the airship, and only the airship." Once again, Alphinaud proves just how smart he is by disregarding a problem common to Whitebrim Front and ourselves. I considered again just how close we are to Ishgard. Even if we were to leave this dragon alone, when it wakes up and finds the mess we have made of its fellows, it will surely seek revenge. Would the forces at Whitebrim be able to withstand it? "Cid―you and I will sneak aboard the Enterprise and prepare it for launch. Papalo―you stay here and keep an eye on the beast. If it wakes, we may need you to provide a distraction until we are ready to depart. You can manage that, can't you?"

Well, at least he came up with a workable plan. But did he really have to give us orders as if a supreme commander instead of a fellow? The more Cid recovers himself, the less he is tolerating the boy's arrogance. I hope to be present when that restraint finally snaps.

As Alphinaud and Cid carefully made their way across the room, a sudden black aura caught my attention. Lahabrea materialized on a high point outside of my reach and taunted our goal of slaying Garuda. He ported to beside the sleeping dragon and laid plain the strength of the primal that we would be facing. The fanatical devotion of the Ixal has made her far stronger than both Ifrit and Titan. He mocked my ability to best her, declaring me too weak for this challenge.

"Yet only a fool would underestimate the great Bringer of Light, slayer of Ifrit, bane of Titan... If any mortal is capable of defeating the Lady of the Vortex, it is you. Win or lose, the battle should at least make for an entertaining spectacle. ...Assuming, of course, you live that long." The Paragon turned and did to the sleeping dragon what he had done to Graffias in the Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak, soaking it in his power and increasing the creature's strength and ferocity. The dragon, now roused and seething with hate and an overwhelming desire for destruction, pulled its increased bulk to its feet and focused its eyes upon me. Cid and Alphinaud could only watch as Lahabrea summoned his power in the form of a blood red sigil over his face, then sealed the Strongroom with a dark covering, isolating them outside of the room and preventing them to come to the aid of me and my fellow scions.

"Let us see how well your blasphemous gifts serve you this time, crystal bearer!"

The dragon Isgebind rushed forward as Lahabrea teleported away in laughter. The thaumaturge had no words of overheard wisdom, but by now we all knew how to deal with dragons. The marauder rushed to draw the dragon's attention away from the rest of us and I rushed to stand in the middle of the group. The dragon used the frozen air itself as a weapon against us and tried to freeze us in a wreath of rime, but any damage taken was quickly healed away. In defiance, it spat ice at those behind it and breathed unnatural frost over the marauder time and time again. But we were able to overcome the limitations of the environment and move out of harm's way or be healed through the clattering damage. We learned the pattern to Isgebind's dance the same way as we did Koshchei's, and steadily we wore down the ice dragon until it lay dead at our feet.

Whatever Lahabrea did to Isgebind so distorted the dragon's body that when it fell, its body's aether lost all integrity and it dissipated into aether immediately. However, it left behind an ice-aspected crystal of such purity that it glowed. With a flash, I saw again the grand seal around me and the ice crystal added its power to the collection.

"Papalo! Papalo! Are you all right? Speak to me!" Alphinaud's voice brought my attention back to the Strongroom. I looked up to see him straining at the ledge over the Strongroom floor. When he saw that I was looking back at him, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Twelve be praised, I feared the beast had injured you. I see now why the others rated you so highly. When you were caught in the midst of that aetheric bubble with the dragon, I was all but certain my next mission would be to find a new champion. Thank the gods for sparing me that inconvenience. I have quite enough to do already. Which reminds me―Cid is working on the Enterprise as we speak. Let us go and see what he has to say."

Alphinaud turned away from the ledge to check on Cid's progress. I remained standing on the Strongroom floor, struggling to keep my tongue in place. The nerve of that boy! I am not some indebted sword on the Bloodsands to be dragged hither and thither to soothe a rich brat's ego! Inconvenience?! I turned to my fellow scions, my friends, and attempted to say something, anything, to the people that had fought beside me for no other reason than I had asked, and this child had not given them a single stray thought after everything.

I wanted to thank them. I wanted to pay them. I wanted them to know how much their presence with me had warmed by soul to the very depths of me and made me feel so much less alone. I wanted to tell the thaumaturge how much I needed to hear that what happened at the Waking Sands wasn't my fault. I wanted to tell the marauder that I knew why he turned away and that I felt the same to see them alive. To see them all alive. To know that I'm not alone. To know that I have earned their respect and that they have earned mine. That we came through together through blood and steel and fire and ice and that we stand here as brethren.

And not... as convenient champions to be summoned at a spoilt boy's whims.

"I don't see the past like you and he does, but I don't need the Echo to see the present. You're right by me, Papalo. You can call me Mirabelle, by the way." Mirabelle, the Scion Lancer, patted me on the shoulder. "I know officers like him, young and book-smart with the softest hands you can imagine. They either grow up to be field marshals or they grow out of story they have centered around them. It just so happens that your story and his story are happening at the same time."

"Ya, Papalo. That boy has bought himself a ship and thinks that makes him captain. If my pop's crew were still together, they would have tied him upside down to the mast before sailing through the roughest seas they could find or whistle up. Teach him some humility." The marauder thumped his chest. "Rhylkhana's me name, on account that me maw said I was born laughing and never stopped! Ha-ha!"

The Lalafell thaumaturge had remained silent through all this. "Piwa is my clan name, Palo. Let's leave it at that. I know you're focused on the loudness of the child, but it is the quietness of the man beside him that has me concerned. How well do you know him?"

"Cid? Um... not really. I know he has a good heart, and that he is always seeking to make the world better around him, but that's all I know to be honest."

Piwa hummed quietly to himself. "Then, you haven't seen what is under those goggles. I see. I will say only this, violence craves this man as much as this man craves peace. This man's capability under control of this boy's ambition is a dangerous combination. Mind your step."

In the sudden silence, I heard Alphinaud ask Cid if the airship was ready. "Yes...though it will not be a pleasant ride." Alphinaud complained lightly of the state of the ship but accepted that it would allow us all to leave this frigid place much faster than on foot, or even on my beloved Sable. Before Cid could give comment, the boy called us all to board the Enterprise quickly so that Cid could take us back to Gridania.

As we boarded, Alphinaud exposed his ambition by loudly wishing that Cid could take us directly to the Howling Eye, where Garuda is holding court. Begrudgingly, he accepted that the Enterprise would need repairs before we could make the attempt. Piwa and I shared quiet glances as Cid found himself piloting the ship by the memory held in his hands than any active thought.

Once in Gridania, Mirabelle, Rhylkhana, and Piwa immediately went upstairs from the airship landing to the Carline Canopy to thaw out and rest. Cid disembarked only to turn around and stare at the Enterprise. He said to look at the ship felt like he had come home, but he still had no reason of why. Alphinaud stood proudly beside him and soaked in the warmth of the Twelveswood while he spoke fondly of the adventure he had been condemning the entire time we were experiencing it.

"Alas, our work is far from done. We still have an airship to repair and a primal to slay. No rest for the heroic, eh?" He gave me a small sack of gill and bid me well. I took the coin with a silent nod and immediately left the landing. It was a struggle to hold my tongue, but the elementals do not look kindly on outbursts of emotion. Leaving Cid to his peace, I went upstairs, greeted Mother Miounne as I passed her, and took to my room in the inn.

Rosomoni had returned some time ago and when I saw him present, I was going to address him but he looked me up and down with a furrowed brow before changing the order of the hour. "Bed. Now. Whatever words you have for me can wait until you are of enough thought to hear them. Whatever report I have for you can wait just the same. This is not the time for heroics. This is the time for rest. Good night, ser." He excused himself before I could say anything in retort.

As if I had any energy to retort him with. I did not realize how tired I was until I caught myself asking the land for assistance to stay on my feet. The land declined and pulled my attention to the bed instead. Very well, then. I shall take a rest, without guilt this time as I realized this was the first time since the assault on the Waking Sands that I have not laid down with fear.

Or, at least I tried.

My mind too restless, I sat several bells with the candle at the table and wrote down all that happened in this diary.

If you are still with me, dear reader, may you walk in the light of the Crystal.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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papalo-palo · 2 months

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WHM 52, MSQ 39 - "Factual Folklore", "The Best Inventions", "Influencing Inquisitors", "By the Lights of Ishgard", & "Blood for Blood"

At once utterly dejected by the sudden freeze-out and utterly livid by the inquisitor's undermining, Alphinaud, Cid, and I made our way down the stairs with the intent of convening someplace away from the inquisitor. But as I made my way to the landing, I looked over at the camp kitchen and saw an Elezen meeting my gaze without flinching. They raised their eyebrow in askance and suddenly I had a strong need to beg for a piece of bread. He was polite enough to ask if I was the cause of the commotion upstairs before cutting to the quick and asking if I wanted to change Lord Drillemont's mind.

Of course, I did! But how could I get him to not take the inquisitor's words at face value?

"If there's one thing I've learned about the man in my time here, it's that he listens to and respects the opinions of those under his command. Win over the barracks, and he's sure to take notice. Now, you ask? That's easy―serve the poor souls decent fare for a change. The last few supply shipments contained no meat whatsoever, and the knights are rightfully beginning to complain. I'm thinking we could prepare them steaks using mudpuppy tail meat. 'Twouldn't be a quality meal, 'tis true, but it'd be a damn sight better than nothing."

Since it was clear that I was going to take up the challenge, Haustefort gave me a bottle of vinegar and told me to douse the mudpuppies with it ere I fight them. The vinegar will weaken them by clogging their mucous glands and drying their skin. He marked on my map where would be the best place to go hunting for the creatures. I bid Cid and Alphinaud to remain in the keep to find other ways to overcome the obstacle of the inquisitor and then set out for Daniffen Pass.

The pass is a tunnel through the frozen mountains and connects the northwest areas of Coerthas Central Highlands with the southwest. When I first came from the Shroud, I saw a strange collection of massive red crystals that looked like bubbles frozen solid in the midst of bursting. Apparently the southern end of the pass opens to those features. I was told that a shard of Dalamud landed not too far from here, and I wondered if the latent energy of the thing would explain the large pond of just chilled water that I passed on the way to the north mouth of the pass. Sable ran close enough for me to see there were fish swimming in the lake! I will leave it to a fisherman to determine if the fish swimming in the water was safe to eat.

The pass itself is as steep as it is short. It never really got very dark within it, not with the snow-reflected light streaming in from both ends. Haustefort had marked the very middle of the pass as the best place to find a spotted mudpuppy of sufficient age and ability to provide a suitable chunk of meat for the oven. I doubted anything could be living in the tunnel until I dismounted at the proper place and found myself right beside yet another pond filled with more fish! I will definitely have to tell my Lominsan friends about this place on promise that they save me any good eating to be found.

So engrossed in trying to see the fish in the darkness that I almost didn't hear the massive mudpuppy sneaking up behind me! Spotted with the same hues as the rock around us, I wonder if I climbed over it along the way. Just as a threw the contents of the bottle of vinegar on its head, it belched up a bubble of mud to encase me. The mud missed me entirely but the vinegar splashed true. It shuddered as the acid easily washed off a protective layer of mucus and cracked its skin. Already wounded and unable to maneuver well to strike me, Sable and I cut down the beast with just a few strikes.

I see why Haustefort requested that I bring back only the tail. The legs of the beast were too sinewy to be worth the bother and the torso of the beast was soaked with toxic glands. Only the tail, which served as a fat reservoir for the eft, was worth taking. It would still require deft carving and stewing, but there was enough meat here to make it worthwhile, and enough fat to render off for several candles and farm grease. All in all, a good take.

When I returned to Haustefort, he saw my hale and hearty appearance and mistook it for a plan gone wrong. But when he received my prize he promised to never go near mudpuppy spawning grounds without a bottle of vinegar again. Quicker than it took me to harvest the meat, he had prepared it into a series of well-seasoned steaks. He bid me to distribute the finished meal to every hungry knight I saw in the tower.

Theophilain was the first knight, and I only had to turn around to see him sitting at the tables while one of his peers lectured over him. When I approached him, he quickly stood to his feet to challenge me, lay bare the cook's conspiracy with me, and confirm the tactic as worthwhile as he requested one of the plates I had approached him with. Once fed, he declared his wholeness by declaring a renewed ability to find novel reasons to avoid sentry duty. No wonder his peer had been lecturing him at length about duty.

Ombeline was the second knight to whom I brought a plate. She sat alone at the end of a table with her chin perched upon her hands and her arms perched upon the table. No peer was present to distract her from her thoughts. Though she had a second mind when the smell of the cook steak reached her. She quickly received the offering and offered a blessing of Halone in its stead. She may march to her death tomorrow, but tonight, she eats well.

Ignemortel stood on the second level, monologing at his peer without ceasing. As I approached him, he turned to me and asked, "Ever must we train to maintain our skill at arms, yet never are we to receive proper sustenance!?" How fortuitous is it then, that I presented him the last of the three mudpuppy steaks. It had cooled some in the short time it took me to arrive, and it was clear that the meat would be a trial to chew through despite the attention of the chef, but it was still a slice of cooked meat and taken with gratitude. He thanked me for the meal, took a bite, and resumed detailing his grievances to his friend while permitting the action of speaking to masticate the bite into submission.

When I reported to Haustefort of what his cooking had done, he seemed very sure of himself. He had kept a steak in reserve and now asked that I take it to Cenota in the infirmary as she is often so preoccupied with the health of her patients that she often neglects to attend to her own. I found the nurse in the infirmary upstairs as she attempted to console a patient who was distraught that he was not able to save someone dear to him. When I attempted to give her the food, she initially dismissed me as she was too focused on tending to her patient. The smell of the mudpuppy steak silenced her and she found herself suddenly quite hungry. She made quick work of the meal in front of me, and suddenly embarrassed, gave me three portions of Knight's Bread in return. After looking over what is the daily ration in this keep, I see why no one made any complaint of the rubbery texture of the meat. You could probably use a slice of Knight's Bread as a scrubbing device for your sword!

As I left her, Cid called me to attend him and Chirurgeon Astidien nearby. Cid had realized that the infirmary lacked for a good quality and quantity of alembics for the use of creating medicines for the troops. He had already taken some of the broken equipment and put together suitable additions, both to assist the infirmary and to assist the recovery of his memory. But the devices require ice sprite cores to be complete as there is some manner in which the cores can be used to draw cold in instead of radiating it out. Cid acknowledged that it sounds quite impossible but he is sure it will work. As I looked upon him and remembered the monk Marques that he thought it was, I felt sympathy for him. I would gather the cores and Cid will prove himself, one way or the other.

A blizzard blew in as I left the infirmary, making it easy to find ice sprites just outside the gates to Whitebrim Front. I directed Sable to attack one while I began stoning a second. Her experience and my training made quick work of those two, and together we made quicker work of the third. The same blizzard that blew in the ice sprites blew us back into the infirmary to deliver the cores to Cid who quickly put together an alembic.

Cenota was happy to see the device, but the design was something she had never seen before. She and Astidien expressed their doubts about the foreign design. Cid's work, while impressive, apparently is not intuitive to those of us who are not trained in engineering. As they considered the benefits that would come as they became accustomed to the device, Inquisitor Guillaime arrived to freeze any attempt of hope's warmth. He warned the chirurgeons of associating with us because we had interfered with the questioning of a suspected heretic. At once the Ishgardians closed their minds and rejected Cid's improved alembic and our offerings.

Cid openly guessed that the Inquisitor was actively working against us because of our actions to prove Lord Francel's innocence. He hoped that if we were to get on the inquisitor's good side, then he would permit us to get on with our work in peace. I said nothing to him as the inquisitor's aura had announced his approach before his words did, again. And his aura is lingering on the stone like a bad stain. There is more to him than contrariness. He does not act in good faith, I am sure.

But Cid tries to see the good in all people, apparently, and has set me to speaking with others in Whitebrim Front. He has chosen not to interact with others himself, and I look again at the strange set of goggles crossing his brow. Where Inquisitor Guillaime is hiding in plain sight, Cid lacks the sight to see he is hiding something. Whatever it could be, I would rather face Cid's truth than the inquisitors, even as I am quite sure that we will have to face the inquisitor's if we are going to help Cid reveal his.

From the three people willing to speak with me about the inquisitor, I have learned that he arrived in Whitebrim Front several moons ago in the midst of a obscuring blizzard, that he is responsible for the uncovering and sentencing of scores of heretics from among the people, and that inquisitors are acting under the mandate of the Holy See and are effectively untouchable. I went to report my findings to Alphinaud in the center of the keep by the grand fire. I do not have the mind for politics and intrigue as he does.

I had wondered if it was true that white-haired Elezen were more suited to cold climates, but I heard the boy's teeth chattering as I approached. In a strange display of humility, he admitted that he was not dressed property for the Coerthan climate. He hadn't bothered to find better clothing, as he thought we would have found the Enterprise and departed by now. He lamented the irksome inquisitor and asked for what information I had learned.

The story of the inquisitor's arrival did not map with the layout of the keep. Sensing something amiss, Alphinaud volunteered me to check around the keep, starting with the eastern gate. It was night when I stepped out, and unusually clear. In the distance to the north, I could see the bright lights of Ishgard crowning the spires that the city was built upon. While it was possible to squeeze between the keep and a rock outcropping to make my way south to the main road, I followed the tale given to me of the inquisitor's arrival. If the inquisitor was backlit by the lights of Ishgard, then I will follow the path to the north and see just how he arrived when there is nothing north but an endless crevice.

The path immediately sloped down and curled around the north side of the keep, descending all the while. Too soon I was on the east side of the keep as a map would mark, but several hundred yalms below. Above me I could see the bridge just outside of the keep's west gate. I stood on the edge of the path and saw something sparkle far below me. The path continued descending to the south, but I could see that it also switched back to go north. If I followed it along, I would come to the oddity I saw in the snow far below.

A dragon, long dead and frozen, lay in the bottom of the crevasse. But as I approached, I sensed the same distressing aura that I feel from the inquisitor. He has been here recently, and he has done something in the snow. Before I could get close enough to see the oddity, I stopped and asked the land for a blessing. The land responded by granting Sable and me a small flow of aether that kept us warm and agile while healing any damage we accumulate while investigating the oddity.

It is well that I was prepared as three plasmoid burst from the snow to assault us! These lightning-aspected elementals weren't the great danger that I was sensing, but had to be dealt with just the same. Sable expressed her annoyance at their presence with great kicks and pecks. Still wary, I asked for the land to bless us again, which it did, and approached the mound hidden by the dragon's body.

Nothing attacked us as I dig into the roughly mounded snow until I felt something hard. It did not take long to uncover the body, still recognizable and intact despite the many moons left out in the wild. The same blizzard that kept the knights inside had preserved the man's corpse. I recognized the clothes frozen solid to his form. An inquisitor.

A check of the pockets revealed document that had been stained with blood before being preserved here. I could not read it, but I am sure a certain schooled and impertinent child could. I mounted Sable who was all too glad to get away from the area before our bodies froze to the rock.

We emerged into the cloud-covered dawn and went at once to the firepit where Alphinaud was waiting for us. I handed over the document which Alphinaud had to hold near the fire for the fibers to warm enough so he could unroll it and read it. He muttered that it was an official papal appointment to the position of inquisitor. "Given the contents of this encyclical, I believe you have just made the acquaintance of the real Inquisitor Guillaime." Alphinaud surmised that the real inquisitor had been murdered on the day of his arrival, and before the man had made it to Whitebrim Front. Which meant that the man that has been dogging us this entire time is an impostor.

Alphinaud's attention now shifted from doing whatever was necessary to gain access to the Enterprise, to doing whatever is necessary to stopping the impostor before he can work further foul against us. As if to drive the point home, he handed me a weapon coffer that had newly arrived for him in lieu of the warmer clothing he had requested. Again, I am surprised by the advanced work of the omnicrafter as it continues to be the superior work. The wand of frost is fitting for the area, and the raptorskin targe is as large as I am, but perhaps Rosomoni will put it to use.

As I put the weapons away, Alphinaud worried that the bloody encyclical alone will not persuade Lord Drillemont to assist us. The only other person that might have any words in our favor is Ser Joellaut who witnessed the false inquisitor's approach that fateful night. Would Alphinaud attempt to persuade him to help us? Of course not, he leaves that task to me for some strange reason. The cold has made him reluctant to leave the fire's warmth.

The recovering knight refused to even entertain the possibility that Inquisitor Guillaime was an imposter. The man saved his life after all and no impostor would go that far. He dared me to speak with Ser Prunilla who was also at the eastern gate that night and helped the inquisitor carry him to safety. Ser Prunilla saw me approaching and called out for me to cease. But she seemed more afraid than angry, so in response I merely showed her the bloody encyclical. Ser Prunilla was too loud in telling me that she knew naught at all about the document or its implications. When I pressed her, she accused me of slander. But the more she claimed ignorance of the matter, the less I believed her. She left me no choice but to use my mother's weapon in the face of recalcitrant stubbornness.

With a pointed gesture and without words, I expressed the fullness of my doubt. That jabbing finger, though it never touched her, poked through the last of her defenses and she began to wail in distress. "You know, don't you? Fury take me, I prayed this day would come..." She confessed what she saw that night. All of what she had seen, and done. Tricked and blackmailed into serving the false inquisitor, she watched in horror these past moons as innocent after innocent was framed for heresy and swiftly put to the death. When she considered confessing all to Lord Drillemont, she remembered the false inquisitor's threats to her family and remained silent. It was she that placed the multiple draconic rosaries in Lord Francel's goods, all for the hope that someone would investigate and find the truth.

When she fell silent, I knew what had to come next. She spoke of a cache of draconic rosaries that the false inquisitor would take from to frame others. I had to find it first. As Sable carried me out of the gates, I asked the land to help me find the cache. While the rosaries themselves are likely to be inert, that the false inquisitor gave it so much attention would stain the box's aether enough for the land to reject it. And indeed, the land led me directly to a suspicious box covered in loose snow.

This time, I did not hope for a slight hint. I took the box, rosaries and all, and went straight to Lord Drillemont. Sable did not give me the option of running the stairs on foot, but all but flew up the tower only to stop before his lordship. The commander took one look at me and immediately began to berate me for approaching him again. When I presented the bloody encyclical and the box of draconic rosaries, the man looked like he was ready to throw me into Witchdrop personally until he realized just what he was holding. He retracted his ban and gave us full access to the Stone Vigil, but also begged our help to bring the false inquisitor to justice. To underscore his change of heart, he threw open the tower's coffers and bid me to take anything I needed. Of the armor, I had no use, but the six Allagan silver pieces could be sold for gil to help Rosomoni and myself with our needs.

I did not wait for Alphinaud to give me political guidance. The land had marked Inquisitor Guillaime as someone that needed to be removed from the Coerthan wilds. Had this transpired in the Twelveswood, the elementals and the Wood Wailers would have undone him upon the first night that he appeared. That he was able to work his evil for so long is testament to how weakened the Coerthan wilds have become. I gave my word and my assistance to Lord Drillemont that I would help him stop the false inquisitor and immediately began to prepare for the task.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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papalo-palo · 2 months

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WHM 52, MSQ 38 - "The Final Flight of the Enterprise" and "Ye of Little Faith"

"The man with knowledge of the Enterprise awaits you outside. I pray his information proves useful to you." Lord Harchefant smiles and nods at me with a warm affirming gesture. As I made my way to the door, I wondered how Alphinaud and Cid were getting along. And I wondered why they still refused to come inside and take advantage of Lord Harchefant's warm hospitality. Could Alphinaud be so prideful of his lineage that he is unable to accept anyone else's graciousness?

When I stepped outside into the descending snow, Cid and Alphinaud were no where to be seen. I looked back inside to confirm that they had not snuck in when I wasn't looking. But sure enough, they had quit the place I had become accustomed to them holding. Ah well, even if I didn't trust the boy, I trusted the man and his instincts. Cid would either keep them out of trouble, or bust them out of trouble, but either way, there was a conversation I had to have.

The discomposed cataloger was waiting impatiently for me by the garrison office doors. Even though Lord Francel's name was clear, the man was still unnerved to be in my presence for any length of time. I do not understand the hold that the Ishgardian religion has on its subjects. He surprised me when the first words out of his mouth was derision towards how quickly opinions can change, especially the opinions of commoners.

He quit his observation of gossip and began recounting his observation of the Enterprise. He was on shift that night, and personally saw the ship flying towards the Stone Vigil. He saw it land in the vicinity of the keep, which at that time was still manned by Ishgardian knights. He then noted that the garrison almost certainly seized the vessel and brought it within their walls, and that it would take an army of knights to recover it. The eyewitness said he had nothing further to report, and that he would pray for my success. And with that, he walked away.

I ran back inside to speak with Lord Harchefant about the information. At first, he was happy for me. But then when he heard where the airship had been secured, his face fell. After the Calamity, the Stone Vigil fell to the dragons and as a result access to the area has been restricted by decree of House Durendaire. While Lord Haurchefant would write another letter of introduction to Lord Drillemont of Whitebrim Front, he worried that his influence would not be enough and encouraged me to have Lord Francel do the same. He acknowledged that my quest would take me away from Camp Dragonhead and as such, he would not have my company for much time, if ever again at all. When he wished me well and prayed that Halone guide me, it felt like I was losing a friend I had known all of my life rather than for a few scant days.

Lord Francel was within his cabin at the top of the Skyfire Locks. I noticed for the first time that the cabin was made of stone, which is hard to heat up due to all the cold, but also very resistant to dragonfire. His face brightened to see me enter the room, and he immediately asked if there was anything he could do to repay me.

His face fell at the mention of the Stone Vigil. That was once another outpost manned by House Haillenarte that fell to the Dravanian Horde. That it happened after the Calamity when all of Eorzea was staggering meant nothing. The Dravanian Horde has it now and that's all there is to it. The keep was assigned to House Durendaire for recovery, so Lord Francel's letter would not have much weight to sway the commander of Whitebrim Front. But Lord Francel promised to write the letter regardless.

Before he handed me his letter, Lord Francel spoke with grave maturity. The persons behind the false accusations have not been uncovered, and it is likely they will resent my continued presence in Coerthas. I would do well to step carefully.

I expected no less.

Upon my arrival to Whitebrim, I found Alphinaud by the keep's central fire. He fussed about the importance of gaining access to the Stone Vigil as if I was unaware of the severity of the matter. Cid was inside the infirmary, offering his assistance. He was more level headed about who we needed to talk to in order to gain entrance to the keep, and much more warmer as he went about it.

Brunadier was quick to disregard my request, and even thought the letters to be forgeries at first. Finally he warmed up enough towards me to tell me how rotten my luck is as Lord Drillemont has been unusually preoccupied with the Stone Vigil lately. He requested that I show the letters to Ser Alboise as escorting visitors was outside of Ser Brunadier's duties. Ser Alboise spoke plainly of the lack of odds of her being able to assist me, and told me to show my letters to the head chirurgeon, Astidien. Astidien took one look at the letters and remarked that we would not have needed an escort in the first place. He told us to go straight to the barracks and speak with Ser Goudernoux, who would know where Ser Drillemont is. Ser Goudernoux was surprised to see I have letters of introduction, but he warned me not to expect much as House Durendaire does not hold adventurers in high regard.

Having been assigned a good number of Adventurer's Guild duties at random, I understand that.

Upon finally reaching Ser Drillemont, he only asked if Ser Goudernoux permitted me to pass and commanded me to speak my case if so. He disbelieved my request and asked if I was the avatar of the Fury. Before I could answer, Alphinaud and Cid caught up with me and stood by my side. Alphinaud put his learned tongue to use and explained the matter in full using as few words as necessary, but before we could be tested, Inquisitor Guillaime appeared and called our very existence into question.

I do not fault Ser Drillemont for suddenly closing the way before us. Having seen the power that inquisitors hold over every Ishgardian, he would have no reason to question the inquisitor's reasoning. If Guillaime says we are false, then not even Halone herself could convince him otherwise. I am still upset.

And I am concerned. The forests of Coerthas is no Twelveswood, but just as I have been learning how to feel the land beneath my feet, I have been learning how to feel the aether of others. When I first set foot in Whitebrim, I felt mostly the aether of the Ishgardians stationed within it as animate beings, with a few chocobos as the exceptions. Outside of the keep, I felt the animals of the forest, and some unusual beings as well. But inside of the keep, an occasional mouse or wayward bird for sure, but only men had aether of substantial amount.

I felt Inquisitor Guillaime approaching up the stairs. His aether has a strange tinge to it. It is not dark aspected, as I would expect someone that had been working with voidsent. It is not aspected to any of the six elements, fire, ice, wind, earth, lightning, or water. This is not the aether of a mage. There is a transitory feel to it, as if the inquisitor is becoming something else, something not man, but I can't identify what that something could be.

However, I do not need to sense aether to know that the inquisitor has no good will towards us, and would be rather pleased if something unpleasant happened to befall us. Especially if he could watch.

So when he spoke up to smother us with doubt, I was not surprised. When he remained present to wallow in our despair, I was not surprised. When Sable alerted to the presence of a hostile creature, I was surprised. When I realized where I had felt similar transitory aether, I was afraid. Inquisitor Guillaime has the same transitory aether feel as Ser Alderique before he fell. And Ser Alderique had aligned himself with dragons. Did that mean that Inquisitor Guillaime had done the same? Or was it because the inquisitor's duties exposed him to heretics and heretical items that the aether rubbed off like a bad laundry stain?

I will have to leave this matter to the philosophers to solve. My problem remains both immediate and distant. We need access to the Stone Vigil if we are going to recover the Enterprise and depart from Coerthas, and as long as Inquisitor Guillaime has anything to say, that is a landmark we will never touch.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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papalo-palo · 2 months

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WHM 52, MSQ 38 - "Following the Evidence" & "In the Eyes of Gods and Men"

"As I see it, the key to proving Lord Francel's innocence is discrediting the evidence against him. I speak of the draconian rosary found in the chest you yourself recovered. If you would, please tell me of the incident in question."

The matter was a brief encounter, and recent enough that I remembered it and explained it in full.

"If the rosary was not his, then someone else with access must have planted it. Here is what you must do: return to Skyfire Locks and speak with Rickeman. He works closely with the porters who ferry goods across Coerthas, so he may have some inkling of who could be responsible."

In the Skyfire Locks, I found Rickeman having a conversation with a local knight. He followed Haurchefant's suggestion to its logical conclusion and realized with horror how many innocents may have been put to the death. He refused to consider the porters as the ones planting the rosaries because of how well he knew them and their dedication. At first, he was at a loss to how the shipments could have been tampered with, especially when considering that most every shipment is thoroughly inspected by the inquisitors before departure.

After considering that the devoted and tested Ishgardian knights and inquisitors might be responsible, he laughed at the insane idea and turned his attention again to the porters. He conceded that despite how well he knew most of them, there was still the chance that one of them was the culprit.

"There's a crew comin' to Camp Dragonhead from Whitebrim Front this morn. You might consider havin' a word with them."

I arrived in Camp Dragonhead just in time to catch the porters as they finished their last preparations. One stopped work only long enough to tell me that after making deliveries there, they were to deliver parcels in Skyfire Locks to the south. The other caught on to why I was asking about the parcels and turned the accusation against me. He dared me to search the parcels for proof of innocence or guilt, either way.

The parcel bound for House Dzemael had nothing unusual within it. Both parcels bound for House Haillenarte had a draconian rosary within them. The porter who challenged me, smugly waited for an apology after I finished inspecting the packages. His expectations and heart was dashed when I showed the draconian rosaries that had been tucked into the Haillenarte parcels. He stared at them in shock and disbelief.

"But…but that's impossible! Once the knight at Whitebrim Front concluded her inspection, I loaded the parcels into the wagon myself!" The porter swore that he had not the parcels for if he had, he would never have permitted the shipments to be searched. He swore off all involvement with the matter entirely.

I turned around and reported the entire matter to Lord Haurchefant immediately. On hearing the circumstances of the rosaries' discovery, Haurchefant felt it was obvious that this was an attempt to destroy House Haillenarte's reputation. The timing was propitious as Lord Francel's trial was due to begin any minute.

Lord Haurchefant bid me to go immediately to Inquisitor Brigie, who was overseeing Lord Francel's trial, and inform her (quite strongly) that House Fortemps demands that Lord Francel's trial be postponed until a full investigation could be conducted. In the interim, he will be preparing a formal statement to the Holy See so that clear heads and clean hands may resolve the matter.

I gave Sable two handfuls of her favorite greens. She greedily devoured them both and then danced her impatient sidestep that she does when she knows that we are about to get into some type of trouble. She likes it when we get into some type of trouble. Because that means she can be all sorts of trouble to help get us out of it.

I was fully prepared to have Sable run me long distances to wherever Holy See Inquisitors do their thing, but to my surprise Inquisitor Brigie was still at the aetheryte just up the flight of stairs. She was surprised to hear Lord Haurchefant's request and replied that Inquisitor Guillaime was presiding over Lord Francel's trial at some place called Witchdrop even as we speak. She then tried to soothe me by informing me that if Lord Francel is truly innocent, then he would walk in Halone's halls with the fallen heros of Ishgard once the trial is concluded.

This isn't a trial.

This is state-sanctioned murder.

Lord Haurchefant agreed with me and confirmed that the inquisitor didn't have the evidence nor the right to subject Lord Francel to trial by gravity. He immediately summoned one of his knights to accompany me and ordered me to ride to Witchdrop to stall the trial until Lord Haurchefant was able to attend in person. It was his hope that he could persuade Inquisitor Guillaime to halt the trial. It was my hope that the inquisitor would come after me directly instead. There is something wrong with that man and I will see it revealed.

I did not need the map to find Witchdrop as I mounted Sable. The land itself was buzzing and eager for someone to come set things right. When I arrived at the spot that the land had called me to, I found I was still a ways off from the actual trial. But I dismounted anyway, as I was directly beside Hourlinet, Lord Haurchefant's man, who was ready to charge by himself to save Lord Francel.

We looked at each other, prepared our weapons, and ran forward.

We arrived just in time to hear Inquisitor Guillaime instruct Lord Francel to jump from the edge of the crevasse into the open pit below as an act of trust before the Fury Halone. The inquisitor announced that the righteous would take their place in Halone's halls while the wicked would reveal their draconic form and be put to the sword. Either way, the accused is dead.

Ser Hourlinet called out as we approached, for the inquisitor to stay his hand. The inquisitor turned towards us and Ser Hourlinet explained himself and the new evidence that Lord Haurchefant would bring to bear. Unfortunately, Inquisitor Guillaime declared Lord Haurchefant to be interfering with the will of an inquisitor, declared him a heretic, and called for him, Hourlinet, and myself to be killed as punishment. An act that the inquisitor's men were eager to complete.

Alderique the Unyielding ran towards us with other temple knights. He demanded that we yield to the inquisitor and face our deaths with honor. Ser Hourlinet and I, though we both be healers, held our own against the crushing attack. The temple knights were defeated soon enough, but Alderique kept pushing upon us with greater and greater strength. When Lord Haurchefant arrived, I thought for sure that the knight would see reason and yield, or at least take a step back.

Instead he spits at us, calls us "Ishgardian scum" and surges forward to attack Lord Haurchefant! The attack was so quick and savage that we didn't see more temple knights and a wyvern come to the field! At first I thought the temple knights were pursuing the beast and came upon us in its retreat. But no, all joined the fray in alliance with Alderique as Inquisitor Guillaime stood to the side and tutted at us all like so many wayward children.

It took some doing, but I was able to draw the wyvern's attention away from everyone while Lord Haurchefant and Ser Hourlinet brought the other knights low. Finally, we all focused our efforts upon Alderique, whose verbal barrage against us continued to make me question to whom was his allegiance bound. He suddenly broke free from Lord Haurchefant and fled past the inquisitor, who looked after him with a strange and unreadable expression. Finding his way blocked, Alderique cast white magic upon himself to restore a small portion of his health, dug his heels in, and prepared to renew his onslaught against us.

All to no avail. The land had refused to grant him no more than a token trickle of aether to heal himself with. My spells of stone and air reached him long before Lord Haurchefant could close the gap. Alderique fell and the wyvern that was suddenly so interested in crushing me was now suddenly very interested in being anywhere but here. As Lord Haurchefant and Ser Hourlinet celebrated the wyvern's departure, I noticed something had fallen from Alderique's glove.

A draconic rosary. I showed it to Lord Haurchefant who came to the same realization I had and tried again to speak to Inquisitor Guillaime who demanded proof of heretics amongst the temple knights. At Haurchefant's bidding, I showed the rosary to the inquisitor.

The inquisitor came to the same conclusion and yielded to the idea that Lord Francel had been framed for the crime of heresy. He declared the trial over and promised to have the Holy See come investigate all the evidence. I found it strange that the inquisitor had no words to say about the temple knights that had fallen this day or the unusual aura of Alderique. If anything, the inquisitor looked bored from the events of the day.

Inquisitor Guillaime proved me wrong when he whirled upon me to remind me of why I first came to Coerthas. "I trust you have not lost sight of what which first brought you to Coerthas, Papalo. Pray locate your errant airship…and use it." I did not need the Echo to know that this man has nothing but dark thoughts towards me. The land does not like where he steps.

The inquisitor left and the sun rose to warm us after the long night. Lord Francel, still not having the wisdom to know when to leave a scene, asked why we would risk ourselves to save him. "Because I know you, boy." Lord Haurchefant smiled that summer grin of his. "You're too loyal to betray Ishgard, and too devout to question your sentence. Had we been any slower, you'd have jumped of your own free will."

Lord Francel nodded sheepishly as Lord Haurchefant clapped the youth. The elder man then took control of the scene and bid us one and all to leave the area and recover ourselves. As we left, Lord Haurchefant requested that I visit him after recovering from the battle. This time, I will not take an extra night to rest. Sable knows the path back to Camp Dragonhead. I will use the time riding her to meditate, commune with the land under me, and prepare myself for whatever the commander has for me upon my return.

While I was fully rested when I entered the commander's office, Lord Haurchefant looked like he had not slept for a week. However, he pulled himself together enough to thank me on behalf of House Fortemps and House Haillenarte for assisting him with clearing Lord Francel's name. Cheerfully, he placed that matter in the past and brought the matter of the missing airship back to the fore.

#ffxiv #The Memoirs of Papalo Palo

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