Final Fantasy XIV Game Script

CURRENT PROGRESS: MSQ 2.0 through 6.x complete!!! Dawntrail MSQ is in progress — Seasonal events are completed as they happen.

For now, text is given for a female Miqo'te archer. Stretch goals for when I catch up to MSQ include conditional dialogue, optional dialogue, sidequests, removed content (e.g. the ARR trim), and more! I've used my best judgement for what to include, as it's not 100% black and white what's part of the “script” and not (e.g. I tried to include system messages that are part of the storytelling but not ones explaining controls).

There may be errors; hopefully I'll catch any on subsequent passes as I add more content! If you see anything off, please message me on Tumblr.
If this script has helped you, feel free to tip me; I'd really appreciate it!

Please do not use this site to train AI.

Navigation

A Realm Reborn
Heavensward
Stormblood
Shadowbringers
Endwalker
Dawntrail
1. Dawntrail (7.0)
Job/Role Quests
1. Archer/Bard
2. Physical DPS
Seasonal Events

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Main Scenario Quests
1. A Realm Reborn
2. Heavensward
3. Stormblood
4. Shadowbringers
5. Endwalker
6. Dawntrail
Alliance Raids
1. Crystal Tower (ARR)
Job/Role Quests
1. Archer/Bard
2. Physical DPS
Seasonal Events
1. Heavensturn
2. Valentione's Day
3. Little Ladies' Day & Hatching-tide
4. The Make It Rain Campaign
5. Moonfire Faire
6. The Rising
7. All Saints' Wake
8. Starlight Celebration
9. Collaboration Events

A Realm Reborn (2.0) (Limsa Lominsa Starter Quests)

??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... ??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... Feel... ??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... Feel... Think...

??? (Brennan): ...Oi! Y'all right, lass? Grizzled Passenger (Brennan): You were moanin' in your sleep an' sweatin' buckets besides. Rollin' of the ship got your stomach churnin', has it? Grizzled Passenger (Brennan): Hmmm... Don't seem like seasickness, now that I look at you. It'll be the aether, then, I reckon. Grizzled Passenger (Brennan): Some are more sensitive to the stuff than others, see, an' we ain't too far from Vylbrand now, which is chock-full of aetherytes. Grizzled Passenger (Brennan): No need to fret, though. You'll soon get used to it. Grizzled Passenger (Brennan): Eurgh. Might as well have been bloomin' seasickness... Ship's leapin' around like a demented chocobo today. Grizzled Passenger (Brennan): I reckon I might head out on deck─get meself a breath of fresh air. Grizzled Passenger (Brennan): Limsa Lominsa's still a fair way off, in case you were wonderin'. Seein' as you're awake an' all, how's about you keep me company till we get there? Grizzled Passenger (Brennan): Them young'uns don't much care for conversation, see. Brennan: Anyroad, Brennan's the name, an' peddlin's me trade. Brennan: Ah, smell that salty sea breeze! Brennan: Now then, lass, judgin' by your unusual garments, I'd say you were one of them new adventurers. Am I warm? Brennan: I knew it! Goin' wherever the wind blows, seekin' fortune an' glory─now that's what I call livin'! Brennan: So long as you can avoid dyin', I mean. Ain't no secret that adventurin's a risky business─these days especially. Brennan: What was it that first attracted you to it?

Why did you become an adventurer?
To gain power. Brennan: ...Power? As in, er...power to do good? Like protectin' the weak, an' fightin' for what's right, an' all that? Aye, I thought that's what you meant. Well, adventurers do get up to a lot of fightin', that's for sure. You'll never be short of a chance to polish your warcraft in the adventurin' business. Brennan: Once we make port, you'd best sign yourself up at the Adventurer's Guild–they'll set you on the right path. Brennan: An' it wouldn't hurt to join a guild, neither. Brennan: Limsa's home to a few, so if you fancy learnin' how to swing an axe, or even sling a spell, you should think about seekin' one out.
To win glory. Brennan: Glory, eh? Well, if you're willin' to take on them tasks as other folk ain't, an adventurer such as yourself can win fame what coin can't buy. Brennan: When you arrive in town, you'll want to report to the Adventurers' Guild. Brennan: You can find out everythin' you need to know about the adventurin' business in there.
To amass a fortune. Brennan: Fortune, eh? Well, it's a dream we've all had at one time or another. Brennan: Once you've learned to handle yourself in a fight, you'll want to pay a visit to whichever craftin' or gatherin' guild tickles your fancy. Brennan: Limsa Lominsa's renowned for its smitties an' armorers, not to mention its fisherfolk. An' then there's its cooks, of course. Brennan: Adventurin' ain't just about killin' things, after all. A peaceful pastime may well help you make your fortune!
... Brennan: Well, if you ain't inclined to tell, I ain't about to pry. Might be as ol' Brennan's a chatterbox, but he sure as hells ain't no busybody. Brennan: We all have a secret or three, don't we? Me? Dozens. Brennan: An' I'd rather they stayed secret, too—which is why I don't go stickin' me nose where it ain't welcome.

Brennan: Just remember, though: there're more important things than fortune an' glory. Such as breathin'. Ain't no profit in bein' dead, an' that's a fact. Brennan: Uwaaah! Stalwart Sailor: Ships off the starboard bow! Pirate colors! Brennan: Pirates? Bloody hells... Stalwart Sailor: Have ye no sense!? Get below! Brennan: What is the world comin' to...? Pirates firin' on a ship flyin' Lominsan colors! Bastards either have a boatload of balls, or bugger all for brains. Stalwart Sailor: Ye can rest easy, friends! We've made it out o' cannon range, an' no buccaneer's bark'll catch this flighty temptress once the wind's in her sails. Brennan: That was too bleedin' close... Glad one of us kept his head on his shoulders─I reckon I'd've lost mine, otherwise. Brennan: If them pirates gave up the chase, we must be close to port. Let's head up on deck an' have us a look, shall we? Brennan: By the by, is this your first trip to Limsa Lominsa?

Is this your first trip to Limsa Lominsa?
Yes. Brennan: Is it!? Well then, let this journeyed itinerant tell you the ins an' outs of your destination. Ahem!
No. Brennan: Thought not! Ah, but I'll wager there've been some changes since your last visit. Allow a journeyed itinerant to apprise you of the current state of affairs. Ahem!

Brennan: Limsa Lominsa prides itself on bein' Eorzea's foremost naval power. Brennan: Weren't too long ago that the place was ruled by pirates, but thanks to the current Admiral's civilizin' influence, the city-state could almost pass for a respectable nation. You'd never guess she was once a rum-swillin' buccaneer herself! Heh heh! Brennan: 'Course, most folk ain't so quick to change, an' with a town full of liberty-lovin' ruffians, you can imagine how many naysayers an' troublemakers she's got to deal with─like them pirates who took a fancy to us just now. Brennan: An' if that weren't bad enough, I've heard the Sahagin are raidin' the coast just as bold as you please. Them're the sea-dwellin' beastmen the locals call “fishbacks,” 'case you didn't know. Brennan: Ah, at long last. Land ho! Brennan: Behold Limsa Lominsa, a nation blessed by the ocean's bounty an' beloved of Llymlaen, goddess of navigation.

Louisoix: On a windswept isle in the southwestern corner of the realm, Louisoix: amidst the rolling waves of the Rhotano Sea, lies the maritime city-state of Limsa Lominsa. Louisoix: To this haven for bandits and brigands, cutthroats and curs, seekers of both freedom and fortune, comes a lone adventurer. Louisoix: Lone, yet not alone, for the hero's arrival has drawn the gaze of the nation's patron deity Llymlaen. Louisoix: What realm-shaking fate has She descried in the churning waters of this mortal's future? Brennan: An' here's where we part ways, lass. Brennan: I'm off to the markets to deliver me wares, then it's on to the highroad for me. Brennan: Here, I want you to have this─by way of thanks for savin' me arse earlier. Brennan: Hey─you never did tell me your name, did you? Well, here's an idea... Brennan: Become the sort of storied personage I can brag about havin' met, an' I'll consider us square. Louisoix: Through peril and hardship, discovery and triumph, may the Navigator guide this brave soul on her life's voyage... Louisoix: Till sea swallows all. Final Fantasy XIV

Yellowjacket Infantryman (Ryssfloh): Hey! You there! Yellowjacket Infantryman (Ryssfloh): Aye, I mean you. This is my district, and I make it my business to know all the scum that washes up in it. Yellowjacket Infantryman (Ryssfloh): Ah, an adventurer fresh off the boat, is it? Well then... Ryssfloh: Allow one of Limsa Lominsa's finest to set you on the right path. Hop to it, lass, I haven't got all day!

Coming to Limsa Lominsa To be recognized as an adventurer in the city–state of Limsa Lominsa, you must register yourself with the Adventurers' Guild.

Ryssfloh: Now then, I'm sure you're itching to explore, but adventurers are required to register their presence in the city...and without a bit of local knowledge, you're like to get your throat slit in some piss-stinking alley. Ryssfloh: So before you do anything else, get yourself over to the Drowning Wench and enroll with the Adventurers' Guild. Ryssfloh: It's not far─just head straight down this street and speak with Grehfarr. He'll show you how to work that big moving platform we call the Crow's Lift, and that'll take you up to the pub. Ryssfloh: Once you're there, look for a fellow by the name of Baderon─he's the proprietor of the Wench. He might curse like an ale-sodden sailor, but the man's got a soft spot for wide-eyed newcomers like yourself. He'll set you straight. Ryssfloh: Got all that? Good. Now run along, and may the Navigator guide you on your journey.

Grehfarr: Welcome to Limsa Lominsa. If you've a mind to visit the Drowning Wench, the Crow's Lift will take you there.

Take the Crow's Lift?
Yes
No Grehfarr: Might I remind you that all newly arrived adventurers are required to register with the Adventurers' Guild? Until you have done so, you will struggle to find employment in these parts.

Baderon: Greetin's to ye, lass. Baderon: What'll it be? ...Ah, but you ain't 'ere fer the drink, are ye!? Ye've come with a mind to try yer 'and at 'venturin', I reckon! Well, ye'll find no shortage o' work 'ere in Limsa. Baderon: The name's Baderon, an' this most 'ospitable of 'ostelries is the Drownin' Wench. Baderon: 'Tis also the 'ome o' the 'Venturers' Guild, 'ere in Limsa. That's why we've got a desk 'specially fer 'andlin' guild business─an' why I seem to spend more time savin' the necks o' whelps like yerself than wettin' the throats o' me regulars. Baderon: 'Venturers 'ave a knack fer findin' trouble, see. Baderon: Not that they need it in these parts, on account o' there bein' trouble wherever ye look. If ye manage to steer clear o' the fishbacks an' the kobolds outside the city, the pirates on the inside will get ye instead. Baderon: An' if they don't manage, there's always the Garlean Empire to finish the job. Oh, no one knows what they're plannin', o' course...but if they're plannin' anythin', ye can be sure it's to kill the lot of us. Baderon: Aye...this town seems peaceful at a glance, but look again, an' ye'll see a people livin' in fear o' what tomorrow might bring. Baderon: ...An' who can blame 'em, after everythin' that's 'appened? Eorzea took a mighty blow durin' the Calamity, but our 'omes weren't the only things what got wiped off the face of existence by that thrice-damned bastard of a dragon. Baderon: It took our bleedin' memories, too. An' no one's been able to explain it in a way as makes an onze o' sense. Baderon: None o' the folks what saw it an' lived to tell the tale seem to agree on 'ow the tale actually goes. 'Tis all foggy...like recollections from an 'ard night on the ale. Ye can imagine why people might fear fer the future if they can't rightly recall the past. Baderon: But there is one thing we all remember, an' that's the group o' 'venturers what laid down their lives to drag Eorzea back from the brink, when she was bound fer the abyss. Baderon: Well, I say we remember... Truth is, though we ain't forgotten what they did fer us, this godsdamned Calamity-spawned memory loss robbed us o' their names... Baderon: It won't even let us picture their damn faces. 'Tis like starin' at a gull flyin' in front o' the sun─all ye see in yer mind's eye is a shadow set against a blindin' glare. An' that's 'ow every bugger describes it, by the way...give or take the odd gull. Baderon: It's this what's got people callin' these 'eroes the “Warriors o' Light.” Baderon: If Limsa's ever goin' to put this time o' darkness behind it, it's goin' to need 'venturers to 'elp banish the fear. It's goin' to need new 'eroes like the ones we lost. Baderon: Maybe one day ye'll be one of 'em. An' that's why any aid we can give to a 'venturer is effort well spent. What say ye, lass? Ye willin' to lend us yer strength? Baderon: Me thanks to ye, an' to the Navigator an' all! I knew She'd steered ye my way fer a reason. Baderon: Ah, but listen to me, yatterin' on like a sun-touched fishwife. 'Tis 'igh time we got yer mark in me book. Baderon: Put yer scrawl right there. Baderon: Forename Surname, is it? An' a fine name it is. Baderon: Congratulations. Yer now an upstandin' member o' the 'Venturers' Guild. Yellowjacket: You there─adventurer. You sailed in on the last ferry, did you not? Yellowjacket: The captain reported being attacked by a pirate vessel. And several witnesses have testified independently that a passenger matching your description went out on deck mere moments before the incident took place. Sending your friends signals, were you? Baderon: Now 'old on a just a moment there, officer. Ye've got the wrong lass. Baderon: This fine, upstandin' young lady is me dear departed grandma's sister's niece's cousin's closest companion. The lass wouldn't be caught dead fraternizin' with such unsavory elements. Yellowjacket: ...Is that right? Ahem. You are surely aware of the recent kidnappings? Respectfully, then, we cannot be too trusting of outsiders at a time when the loyalty of even our closest friends is in doubt. Baderon: Aye, ye make a good point there, officer, a very good point. Very wise. Ye needn't worry, though─I keep one eye open at all times, me, an' two more often than not. Now, sir, what say ye to a tankard o' me finest ale afore ye return to yer duties, eh? Yellowjacket: Not a watered-down cup of piss like last time, I should hope? Baderon: Ain't got the faintest idea what yer on about, officer. The Wench might offer some o' the cheapest grog this side o' the Strait o' Merlthor, but that don't mean it won't get ye good an' pickled! An' look, there's a chair over there just cryin' out to be sat on, so kick off them 'eavy boots, eh!? Baderon: Ye'll 'ave to excuse these eager bloody Yellowjackets. There's been a spate o' kidnappin's, see, an' they ain't got a clue who's behind 'em. Naturally, they've taken to clappin' irons on anyone who looks vaguely suspicious, which means 'venturers, visitors...an' pretty much every bugger else in this town. Baderon: Don't take it personal, though. Us Lominsans can be an 'eadstrong bunch o' bastards, 'tis true, but given time, we'll grow on ye. Now, where was I...? Baderon: Oh aye! Welcome to Limsa Lominsa, where the sea's as green as the faces o' me patrons after a few too many Blackbelly whiskeys! Baderon: Now, take a moment to gather yer wits, an' we'll get started with learnin' ye the ways o' the city.

Close to Home Baderon, proprietor of the Drowning Wench, wants you to perform three tasks that will help you learn the fundamentals of adventuring.

Baderon: Right, then. Let's start ye off nice an' easy with three tasks what'll 'elp ye get used to life 'ere in Limsa. Baderon: Firstly, if ye 'ead down a floor then point yer nose to the west, ye'll get an eyeful o' the great glowin' crystal in the middle o' the courtyard. Baderon: That's an aetheryte─a device what can move ye from one place to another in the blink of an eye. Ain't no swifter way to travel─providin' there's an aetheryte where ye want to go, o' course. Baderon: 'Ave a chat with the Yellowjacket on guard down there an' ye'll be treated to a lecture on the workin's o' the device. 'Fore ye do that, though, remember to touch the thing. Strange as it sounds, it won't work till you 'ave. Baderon: Second on the list is the marketplace. Ye'll find weapons an' armor an' all yer 'venturin' bits an' pieces fer sale in the district what lies beyond the aetheryte. Baderon: Don't go throwin' yer gil around just yet, though, or ye'll get fleeced quicker'n ye can say, “Why's me coinpurse so light?” 'Ave a word with Swozblaet, instead. 'E's the 'ead o' the Merchants' League, by the way. Baderon: Give 'im this old octant, an' 'e'll treat ye well. Baderon: Fer the last o' me 'elpful 'ints, I suggest ye meet some fellow axe-wielders at the Marauders' Guild. Baderon: I guarantee ye'll learn a few new tricks fer swingin' that 'ead-splitter o' yours if ye join their crew. Blauthota at the front desk is the one to get ye started. Baderon: Got all that, lass? Seein' to them three tasks'll take ye on a little jaunt 'round the city, an' 'elp ye work out where everythin' is. Now, I've best be gettin' on. Run along, eh? Baderon: Bugger it! There I go, sendin' ye off without tellin' ye summat crucial. That bloody Calamity's made a right mess o' me memory, I swear. Well, that or the ale... Anyroad, while yer out, if ye 'appen to pass any poor sods what look like they might need yer 'elp, consider givin' their tale o' woe a listen, eh? Baderon: Sounds like a chore, I admit, but ye never know what interestin' opportunities could be lurkin' out there, just waitin' fer ye to stumble on 'em. Fer example, Niniya over yonder's been castin' glances at ye since ye waltzed in.
Why not lend an ear an' see what she 'as to say? Aye, yer like to find yerself runnin' odd errands in the beginnin', but once ye build a reputation as a man folk can trust, the jobs'll get 'arder an' the rewards more generous. Baderon: If ye've the time, I'd also seek the advice o' the Smith 'ere in the Wench. The lads as bear that title 'ave some fine advice fer them what're just startin' out in the profession. An' that, my lass, is 'ow ye go about becomin' a legend among 'venturers.

??? (Sundhimal): Ah, another novice adventurer. Aye, Baderon has sent more than a few of your kind this way of late. Sundhimal: I am Sundhimal, one of the Yellowjackets tasked with keeping the peace in the city. It is also my charge to provide guidance in the use of this device. Fear not, I shall be brief. Sundhimal: Aetherytes are crystalline structures that tap into aetherial energies. They are primarily used as a means to travel swiftly from one place to another. Sundhimal: Return and Teleport─the most common transportation spells─make direct use of the aetherytes and their connection to the flow of aether. Sundhimal: And as these devices are found in almost every corner of Eorzea, any adventurer worthy of the name will wish to seek out and attune himself to each one. Sundhimal: Once you have expanded your horizons beyond the walls of the city, you will soon find yourself performing the act of attunement as a matter of course. Sundhimal: There is, however, no need for unseemly haste. The aetherytes found in and around the city will be sufficient for the present, I assure you. Sundhimal: Should you wish to learn more about aetherytes or transportation magic, I will be here to answer your questions.

Swozblaet: A fine evening to you, madam! Welcome to the most replete marketplace in the grand realm of Eorzea, where every shelf groans under the weight of wonders borne from all four corners of the world! Swozblaet: Pray browse the stalls until your eyeballs ache from ogling the overabundance of unbelievable bargains! Now, as much as I would love to elaborate upon the unrivaled quality of our merchandise, I must tend to some cargo but recently arrived at the docks─ Swozblaet: Hm? You bear a gift from Baderon? Whatever could it─ Ah! My octant! By the Navigator, I must have left it behind in the Wench─along with a week's pay and several bells' worth of intoxicated memories!

Rusted Octant An instrument widely used in maritime navigation. This one appears to have been a victim of the elements.

Swozblaet: I am most grateful to have it back! This tool is a keepsake from my days as a ship captain, you see. Needless to say, your good deed must be repaid, and what better recompense than the wisdom of a master merchant? Swozblaet: If it is simple and sturdy adventuring equipment you seek, you need look no further than the East and West arms of Hawkers' Alley. Swozblaet: Lest you doubt, each gil you invest in arms and armor will be money well spent. Adventuring is, after all, a dangerous profession by its very nature. Swozblaet: It goes without saying that Hawkers' Alley boasts stalls specializing in the tools of every martial discipline imaginable. Swozblaet: And within but a few steps are bazaars and apothecaries that will most amply supply all your potion and perishable needs. Swozblaet: Our keen-eyed agents procure a frankly befuddling range of wares during their sojourns to distant shores, so it pays to become familiar with the type─and price─of the goods offered by each stall. Swozblaet: Such knowledge will serve you well if your purse is light or your time is short. Swozblaet: Ah, but verbal instruction of this kind will only profit you so much. Experience has ever been the surest teacher─if not the kindest. I invite you to explore the markets for yourself.

Blauthota: Ho there, adventurer. Curious about the Marauders' Guild, are ye? Blauthota: Any axe worth swingin' needs two hands on the haft, an' has a blade what can make short work of a galley's mast. That's the kind o' weapon our members train to use with deceptive swiftness an' all too predictable force. Blauthota: Are ye interested in hearin' more, lass? Then why don't I give ye the short version o' the guild's foundin' history, an' we can go from there. Blauthota: It all started with ships, ye see. What've ships got to do with axes, ye ask? Well, buildin' 'em would be pretty bloody difficult without a sturdy tool to lop down trees for timber. Blauthota: An' since only the Navigator Herself knows when a ship'll run afoul of a storm or worse, it makes sense for the crew's carpenter to carry an axe on board. Aye, it all started with shipbuildin' an' ship repair. What? Am I borin' ye? Blauthota: Hmph. As I was sayin', any tool on a ship can become a weapon, an' the axe was perfect for hookin' yerself over the rail of an enemy vessel, lettin' loose in a whirl o' steel, an' generally layin' waste to all about ye. Blauthota: As more seafarers took up the axe as their weapon o' choice, so did the bloody art o' the marauder begin to take shape─'specially among pirates, where strength an' skill decided yer place in the world. Blauthota: With an eye to assemblin' crews o' battle-ready raiders, the pirates started teachin' the proper way to wield a choppin' blade to their new recruits. An' that's how the Marauders' Guild first came to be. Blauthota: But once the Galadion Accord was signed to unite the Maelstrom an' the pirates against Limsa's enemies, the whole game changed. Blauthota: The accord itself was a dismal failure, o' course, but the Marauders' Guild was never the same─it was taken over, restructured, an' purged of its pirate elements. It had been reborn as an institution dedicated to naught but the teachin' of axe fightin'. Blauthota: The members o' this new Marauders' Guild weren't no greed-driven cutthroats, neither─they were warriors what sought to use their martial prowess for the good o' society. Blauthota: If masterin' the axe is yer heart's desire, then ye'll find no better arena in which to practice yer swings. Blauthota: Think it over, then let me know if ye fancy joinin' our ranks. I've a feelin' I'll be seein' more o' ye soon, lass.

Baderon: Ah, there ye are, Forename. Enjoy yer jaunt 'round the city, did ye? Baderon: If ye mean to base yerself in Limsa Lominsa, that won't be the last time ye'll visit them three places. Baderon: An' now ye've got some idea o' what's where, ye can start explorin' the rest o' the town. Baderon: Ye've shown a good ear fer listenin', lass. Stick with ol' Baderon, an' ye'll go far.

On to Summerford Baderon, proprietor of the Drowning Wench, wants you to lend a hand at Summerford Farms.

Baderon: Still in Limsa, are ye, Forename? 'Ow'd ye fancy a trip outside the city walls? Baderon: I'd like ye to visit an orchard by the name o' Summerford Farms. Ever 'eard o' the place? The owner, Staelwyrn, is an old mate o' mine. Baderon: 'E's got 'imself a crew o' mostly reformed pirate types, if ye can believe that, and 'as been tryin' to bring a bit o' life back to the fields after the Calamity ruined the soil. 'E mentioned needin' another 'and or two, and yer name sprang to mind. Baderon: I gave ye a glowin' recommendation, so make sure ye work 'ard and impress the old bastard. Ye need directions? The place ain't 'ard to find: just take the Zephyr Gate out o' the city, and follow the road northeast.

Staelwyrn: Ah, you must be the adventurer Baderon promised to send along. Forename Surname, wasn't it? Staelwyrn: You honored his word, so that's a good start. I'm Staelwyrn, the “old bastard,” as Baderon likely described me, and this here is my humble orchard. Staelwyrn: A good number of the lads and lasses workin' here once terrorized the high seas. And if you're wonderin' why I employ these scrags, well, they used to crew my pirate ship. Staelwyrn: But the Calamity did for our ship, like it did so many others, and I was sore wounded into the bargain. Staelwyrn: I had to feed myself and my crew somehow, and Admiral Merlwyb's initiative to get us landlocked buccaneers workin' the fields seemed too fine an offer to refuse. Staelwyrn: Well, it turns out you can take the pirate away from the sea, but you can't take the sea away from the pirate. A lot of my blokes just never took to tendin' the soil, you see. Staelwyrn: And unfortunately, the botanists I called in to train 'em have been wringin' their hands in black despair. With so much work pilin' up, I need a tougher soul like you to step in and help where it's needed.

Dressed to Call Staelwyrn, owner of Summerford Farms, wishes to inspect your equipment and thereby gauge your readiness for the tasks he has in mind.

Staelwyrn: I've a mind to set you a task, Surname, but before I do, I need to be sure you're properly kitted out. Staelwyrn: Pirates don't care to parley with dandies, you understand. It might well be that the ones here have traded in their cutlasses for coulters, but they're still rogues at heart. Staelwyrn: I know a solid set of gear when I see it. Come back when you think you're more suitably equipped.

Staelwyrn: Let's have a look at you, shall we? Staelwyrn: Oho! As long as you're this well covered, I won't feel any guilt throwin' you to the sharks. Staelwyrn: Erstwhile buccaneers are an ornery lot. They rage in love for the sea, and care little for the laws of the land. Staelwyrn: But they respect strength, and by the looks of you, I'd say you'll have little trouble gettin' their attention.

Lurkers in the Grotto Staelwyrn, the owner of Summerford Farms, has a task for a competent adventurer.

Staelwyrn: Ah, Surname. That aura of confidence tells me you've not been idle since last we met. Staelwyrn: I hope I've read you aright, for I've a task that requires the attention of a capable adventurer. Might that adventurer be you? Staelwyrn: Good to hear. Then I shall lay before you the sorry tale. Staelwyrn: You will have heard rumors of the abductions. Aye, citizens have been disappearin' from every corner of Limsa Lominsa, as if plucked from the face of Hydaelyn, boots and all, by an unseen hand. Staelwyrn: And what's this got to do with Summerford Farms, you might ask. Well, that remains to be seen, but it seems a collection of right unsavory fellows with azure-tattooed faces has been creepin' up to the edges of the fields and spyin' on my yeomen. Staelwyrn: Now, I doubt anyone would enjoy bein' scrutinized by such savages at the best of times, but the farmhands are convinced that they're the kidnappers of rumor, come for their hides. Staelwyrn: Needless to say, they're beside 'emselves with worry, and their work's sufferin' for it─which is the very last thing I need when my old crewmen are still gettin' used to their new jobs. 'Tis a struggle to get 'em to leave the farmhouse of a mornin'. Staelwyrn: That is, as they say, where you come in. Would you be willin' to investigate these tattooed thugs for me? Staelwyrn: Good lass. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the sooner this place will start to resemble a workin' farm again. Staelwyrn: I suggest you begin by havin' a look around Seasong Grotto. If reports are to be believed, our unwelcome visitors have occupied the place. Staelwyrn: Be careful, though, Surname─I couldn't say for sure what manner of miscreants we're dealin' with here. If they are the kidnappers...well, just be on your guard, all right?

??? (Y'shtola): I am the waves that bear.
I am the winds that guide. ??? (Y'shtola): I am the evening stars.
I am the morning sky.
I am born of the sea.
And there shall I die. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Thus reads the Sailors' Requiem carved into yonder stone. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Such words well describe the manner in which the citizens of Limsa Lominsa live their lives. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): It is both a litany against misfortune for those out on the waves... Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): ...and a prayer that the souls of those who perish on land might find their way back to the sea. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Ah, you are the adventurer I've seen around Summerford Farms. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): I thought myself on the trail of the kidnappers, but it would seem I have missed my mark. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): ...Or perhaps not. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): As I suspected, the aetheric disturbance here is no natural occurrence. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Nor is it a coincidence that the two of us should come here in search of those responsible for the disappearances only to be attacked. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): But who stands to benefit from the keeping of this secret? Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Such thoughts must wait. Let us attend to the task at hand, unpleasant though it be.

Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): I sense something awry with this creature. Be on your guard. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Ware! The disruption of the aether draws others to the fray! Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Keep your focus on the battle!
Leave the tending of wounds to me. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): More unwelcome visitors?
Slay them quickly lest we be overwhelmed. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): The creature falters.
Press the attack and the battle will soon be won.

Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Whew!

??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... Feel... Think... ??? (Hydaelyn): Crystal bearer... Hydaelyn: I am Hydaelyn. All made one. Hydaelyn: A Light there once was that shone throughout this realm...yet it hath since grown dim. Hydaelyn: And as it hath faltered, so hath Darkness risen up in its stead, presaging an end to Life. Hydaelyn: For the sake of all, I beseech thee: deliver us from this fate! Hydaelyn: The power to banish the Darkness dwelleth in the Crystals of Light. Journey forth and lay claim to them. Hydaelyn: By thy deeds shall the Crystals reveal themselves to thee. Hydaelyn: Only believe, for the Light liveth in thy heart. Hydaelyn: Go now, my child, and shine thy Light on all creation.

Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Awake again, are we? Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Aha. The poor creature's fury was kindled with cruel forethought. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): See this blade? I found it in the goobbue's back. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): I have seen knives of this kind before─they are most commonly used for the cutting of rope. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): It would appear our culprits are seafaring men of some persuasion...piratical being the most probable. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): In any event, you seem much recovered from your sudden...affliction. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): I confess, I was rather taken aback when you collapsed at the very moment of our victory. Mayhap a surfeit of aether...? Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): I beg your pardon? A “towering crystal”? I'm sure I don't─ Oh. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): Well, well... This has been a day of unexpected revelations. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): I must continue my investigation. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): In the meantime, I suggest you deliver this knife to your patron, along with a warning concerning the pirates' probable involvement in this murky business. Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): The days ahead promise little rest, I fear... Cultured Conjurer (Y'shtola): May our paths cross again under the light of the Crystal.

Staelwyrn: Surname! Right glad am I to see you safely returned! Staelwyrn: My lads were all gabbin' about hearin' what sounded like all seven hells breakin' loose near the grotto, and I feared I'd sent you to your death. Staelwyrn: If you were in the middle of that commotion, I hope it yielded somethin' of interest. I'd hate to think you'd risked your life for naught.

Blunt Sailor's Knife From cutting rope to removing barnacles, from gutting fish to gutting boarders—on a ship, there are thousands of uses for a knife.

Staelwyrn: Hmmm... A blade pulled from the back of a creature you slew at the cave, eh? Staelwyrn: Aye, I'd agree that such a knife would be part of any seafarin' man's kit. Staelwyrn: I'm startin' to think that these ruffians are pirates, come to lure my farmhands back to a life of plunder. Chances are, they didn't take kindly to your appearance on their doorstep, and set a maddened goobbue on you. Staelwyrn: Aye, the pirates have been addin' to their numbers of late. I'd best warn the lads and lasses in my employ to be on guard against their schemes. Staelwyrn: ...Hm? You met someone else at the grotto? A woman with a strange contraption...? Ah...Y'shtola! Staelwyrn: She's been in Limsa Lominsa for a good while now. Her studies of the aether often bring her out to Summerford, so her presence at the grotto is hardly unusual. Staelwyrn: She's an odd-lookin' lass, I grant you, but she's not the kind to associate with kidnappers. You may take my word for that. Staelwyrn: Where trust should be lackin' is in those yeomen of mine who have yet to wholly relinquish their pirate pasts. The temptation to return to the free and easy life of a buccaneer may prove too strong to resist. Staelwyrn: You have my thanks, Surname. If it weren't for the efforts of stalwart adventurers like yourself, this farm would be in a far worse state than it is. Staelwyrn: Just you keep on lendin' your talents to those in need, eh? Help bring Limsa the brighter future she deserves.

Washed Up Staelwyrn is up in arms, as his hired hands are nowhere to be found.

Staelwyrn: That sea-sloth Sevrin and his lot─never around when there's work to be done! Staelwyrn: I'd sooner hire you for the sake of gettin' things done, but then the rapscallions would never learn. Staelwyrn: Round them up and let them know that Staelwyrn would like a word... And don't take “no” for an answer!

Wauter: Work? Ha! Can't work when me hands are full liftin' this mug. Ye know, I'd wager me last gil ye'd never guess what I'm drinkin'.

What do you think is in his mug?
Swill water.
Swill wine.

Wauter: Well, yer right about the “swill” part. I reckon it might be worth a day o' doin' Staelwyrn's chores if it'll afford me a taste o' proper grog.

Sozai Rarzai: How am I supposed to work on an empty stomach? Go on, have a guess at what I had for breakfast.

What did he eat for breakfast?
Breaded sticks.
Ash tuna.

Sozai Rarzai: Wha─ Gods, how'd you know!? It's my breath, ain't it? It probably smells as wooden as the food tasted... But I know why you're here. <sigh> I'd just as soon get some real food in me, but I ain't one to reject a summons from the cap'n.

Eyrimhus: Axes were made for splittin' skulls, not stumps! You know what I did in my sailin' days?

What did he do in his sailing days?
Skirmishing.
Wanton slaughter.

Eyrimhus: You bet your bosom I did, lass! Aye, those were the days... <sigh> I reckon now I'll have to be satisfied takin' my axe to the trees.

Aylmer: So, Staelwyrn sent you. And what do you reckon I say to that?

What do you reckon he says?
Work is for the weak and witless.
I've saucier seeds to sow.

Aylmer: Damn right! Didn't get where I am by takin' guff from any glorified gardeners! ...But I s'pose I could see what he wants to get him off my back.

Sevrin: Aye, I'm Sevrin. You the old man's errand boy, now? Sevrin: Tell my dear old captain not to wet his britches. I'll be along. Sevrin: Oh, and just so we're clear─I don't care for landlubbers. Go find the chocobo you rode in on, and ride on out.

Staelwyrn: You continue to impress, lass. All but Sevrin are accounted for. Staelwyrn: It's no fault of yours he squirmed out. I've let that worm wriggle through my fingers more times than I can count. Staelwyrn: But rest assured, the next time I see him, I'll put him squarely in the dirt, where all such worms belong.

Double Dealing Staelwyrn worries his sack of oranges will not reach the La Thagran Checkpoint as planned.

Staelwyrn: Pains me to say, but all the gil in the world can't buy loyalty. There are some, like you, who can be trusted. But then there are others... Staelwyrn: Until now, I've had no choice but to rely on that charlatan Sevrin, even though I am full aware he's been doin' shady deals behind my back. More than once I've heard tell of improper tradin' with goblins. Staelwyrn: I wouldn't be the least surprised if that were happenin' right now. Not a bell ago, a sack of oranges vanished, as did Sevrin. I want you to find and confront the bastard for me, Surname. I'm sure there's wrongdoin' afoot, so be sure to doubt anythin' that comes out of his mouth.

Sevrin: What's this now? Staelwyrn sent you for the oranges? Huh... So the old bugger had known all this time... Argh, what does it matter anyway? Sevrin: Listen, you're one o' those goody-goody adventurer types, right? Go rescue me mates from those double-dealin' goblins! They're just over yonder by the bonfire.

Aylmer: I owe you one. Would've gotten away meself if not fer Sevrin shovin' me aside.

Eyrimhus: Sevrin sent you? Hah! The way he flew out of here, I was sure he'd sold us down the river!

Sozai Rarzai: If you hadn't come, my dodo would've been cooked! Mmm...cooked dodo.

Sevrin: You saved me mates, and for that, I owe you. Sevrin: S'pose I should be ashamed I couldn't clean up my own mess... Sevrin: ...But a pirate knows no shame! I've no qualms about goin' back on my word! I'm only givin' you this sack 'cause I like the cut of your jib. Take it to Ossine, an' send him my regards.

Ossine: What have we here? A delivery from Summerford Farms, and as scheduled? Hah! There's a first time for everything!

Sack of Oranges A burlap bag packed chock-full of juicy, ripe La Noscean oranges.

Ossine: Well, look at that... Not a single one missing, either! About the only things not here are those bagmen, and I don't miss them one bit. Ossine: Here's Staelwyrn's payment in full. With you, I can trust it'll reach him!

Staelwyrn: Back in one piece! That's a relief. How did you fare, Surname?

Sack of Gil Payment for the sack of La Noscean oranges.

Staelwyrn: Ah, this is what I was aimin' for! Looks to be all I was owed, all right. Though, I'd be tellin' you false if I claimed I had not held out more hope for Sevrin. Staelwyrn: I was even willin' to overlook the skimmin' off the top, but to sell us all short in favor of those godsforsaken goblins... <sigh> Staelwyrn: You'd do well to mind yourself around that two-gil cheat. If he'd leave his own mates for dead, there's no tellin' what he'd do to you.

Loam Maintenance Gurcant seeks fertile soil to improve the yields of his newly plowed fields.

Gurcant: Blast! At this rate, the crops will never be ready for harvest. Gurcant: If only we had blackloam... Just a bit could send our stalks soaring! Gurcant: I'll bet Rhotwyda knows where you might find some. Perhaps you might pay her a visit in the orchard?

Rhotwyda: That Gurcant's got a head of cabbage if he thinks I'm fetchin' him any blackloam! Rhotwyda: But if you dare to pinch some from the Cookpot, then be my guest. Just mind you don't get trampled upon by the aurochs that dwell there. Rhotwyda: Once you've three bushels' worth, take the blackloam to Pfrewahl at Tiller's Rest. He'll know what to do.

Pfrewahl: Argh, even the weeds wither and die in this desolate dirt.

Blackloam Quite literally a steaming sack of shite.

Pfrewahl: But a bit of this blackloam ought to change all that! I haven't seen any in ages. Gathering blackloam's not for the weak of will...nor the weak of stomach, eh? Hahaha! Pfrewahl: ...Oh, don't tell me Gurcant and Rhotwyda neglected to mention where blackloam comes from. Pfrewahl: Well, surely you figured it out on your own from the cloying stench! It comes from the aurochs' lair, of all places! Pfrewahl: Ahem, well, why dwell on who misled whom about what? What matters is that your efforts have brought us the blackloam, and we can expect a bountiful harvest as a result. Thank you!

Plowshares to Swords Pfrewahl needs stolen farm tools recovered.

Pfrewahl: Confounded pirates! They know nothin' of tillin', only killin'! Stealin' our shovels to melt and forge into axes, of all things. Pfrewahl: They're bitin' the hand that feeds 'em, the mangy mongrels. I'd love to teach those curs a lesson in obedience myself, if I hadn't sworn to Staelwyrn that I wouldn't fight no more. Pfrewahl: So I need you to bring back our farm tools, and make sure those dogs reap what they've sown!

Pfrewahl: I wonder what those sea dogs will try an' steal when there's no harvest!

Stolen Farm Tool Without tools like these, the tillers who frequent Tiller's Rest would have a hard time tilling.

Pfrewahl: Ah, good to see the tools back, and in serviceable condition. Which will be more than we can say of Sevrin when we get our hands on him. The wretch likely had a role in the theft. Pfrewahl: Spied him meetin' the pirates in secret, I did. I couldn't care less if the wastrel won't work, but when he consorts with cutpurses that take our tools away, he's crossed the line! Pfrewahl: Staelwyrn ought to know what sort of scalawag he's dealing with. Take word to him, would you?

Staelwyrn: Pirates makin' off with our tools? Pfrewahl did well not to take matters into his own hands. Last thing I need is blood on my crops. Staelwyrn: But I'll be damned if Sevrin thinks he can take us for fools. His treachery won't go unpunished.

Just Deserts Staelwyrn has reason to believe that Sevrin is up to no good. Something must be done.

Staelwyrn: I've come to expect a great deal from you, lass, and you've never once let me down. Staelwyrn: Yet what I'd ask of you now goes beyond aught I've asked before. Would you hear my plea all the same? Staelwyrn: It eases my mind to have your ear. Staelwyrn: You're no doubt familiar with that scoundrel Sevrin by now. Staelwyrn: Well, the schemin' scapegrace is at it again. Since that letter came for him, he's been skulkin' about in that manner he does when he's up to no good. Staelwyrn: Now he's rounded up his rogues and buggered off, with nary a word to anyone. Staelwyrn: I've grown accustomed to his insolence, but somethin' tells me this is different. It ain't exactly damnin', but when last I had words with him, he didn't look defiant so much as hunted. I can't help thinkin' he's gone lookin' for trouble and found more than he wanted. Staelwyrn: So I was hopin' you might hunt his sorry hide down and drag it back here before it's too late. Staelwyrn: The ungrateful little cur bites me every chance he gets, but I can't quite bring myself to cut him loose. I s'pose he reminds me a bit of my younger self. Staelwyrn: Suffice it to say, I'd rather he didn't come to a sticky end. As for how to find him, I'd try askin' Grynewyda at the aetheryte. She was the last one to see him. Staelwyrn: I daresay she'll be able to tell you where he was headed.

Grynewyda: Nothing that passes through those gates escapes my notice! Grynewyda: I saw the rouser and his rabble set out for Woad Whisper Canyon not long ago, singing about drinking themselves stupider. Cheeky sods said I should join them! Grynewyda: I told them I'd rather shrivel up than sip whatever it was that had pickled their brains. If you find the idle swine, be sure and give them a cuff 'round the ear from me, will you?

Aylmer: Of all the dirty, deceitful, downright dastardly deeds that slippery bastard's done! Aylmer: Claimin' to take the lads out for a drink, only to lead us straight into a bloody trap! It don't get no lower than that! Aylmer: 'Course, I've learned to stay a step ahead of ol' Sevrin, so I was ready─but the others weren't so lucky. You've got to help 'em!

Eyrimhus: My axe may as well've been a white flag for all the good it did... Hope you fare better, or the sorry bastards in there are done for.

Sozai Rarzai: Sevrin might've got us into this mess, but I ain't about to let him give his life for us. I'd sooner bow to a fishback than be in that connivin' bastard's debt! To arms!

Tattooed Man: A true knave! You betray even yourself, Sevrin. Sevrin: Ugh... Tattooed Man: We were prepared to overlook the matter of your desertion on the condition that you provided us with suitable replacements. That was the agreement. Tattooed Man: Yet your latest change of heart leaves your debt to us unpaid.
Few are they who betray the Serpent Reavers twice. You will not do so a third time. Tattooed Man: Cowering behind your protector will only delay the inevitable. Honorless wretch...your life is all you have left. Tattooed Man: And worthless though it be, we shall take it! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): O mournful voice of creation! Send unto me a creature of the abyss, my thrall to command, that I may smite mine enemies!

??? (Black-masked Ascian): You are strong. But are you strong enough to withstand this? ??? (Black-masked Ascian): Impossible! Never has the golem been so sorely tested!

Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): That the golem could be vanquished... Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): That woman is no ordinary adventurer.

Y'shtola: <sigh> ...The snake slithered away. Y'shtola: I am only glad he did not have the chance to sink his fangs more deeply into you.

Y'shtola: Those pirates do not belong to any of the known Lominsan factions... Whom then do they serve? The beast tribes? Surely not. Y'shtola: But the timing of their appearance coincides all too neatly with the recent surge in Sahagin and kobold activity... Something is afoot. The question is: what? Y'shtola: Twelve help us if it should prove so. Limsa would be hard-pressed to keep a single primal at bay, let alone two. But all is yet speculation. I must needs find evidence.

Y'shtola: The seas continue to rise... Y'shtola: While the lesser moon continues to fall... Y'shtola: And ilm by ilm, the world becomes ever more unlike itself. Y'shtola: It is as Louisoix foretold... Y'shtola: The coming of chaos has rendered the laws of nature mutable, blurring the boundary between the material and aetherial planes... Little now stands between us and the primals. Y'shtola: ...But they are not here yet.
“Though time be against us, hope shall ever be on our side.” Y'shtola: Never did the creed of Sharlayan ring more true.

Y'shtola: Never did I dream that I would possess the means to see aether...yet now that I do, I do begin to take it for granted. How swiftly do the wonders of Sharlayan seem commonplace... Flower Girl: Um... Flower Girl: Here, for you. Have you come for the festivities? Flower Girl: Today the Maelstrom officially makes that great hole in the sea its training ground. Join in the celebrations! Y'shtola: Wait. A disturbance in the aetheric flow. But whence does it emanate? Y'shtola: ...Seasong Grotto, perhaps?

Y'shtola: What have we here...? Can you walk? Y'shtola: 'Tis I.
Regrettably, no. He eluded me.
Understood. I will inform the commodore. Y'shtola: You collapsed from your exertions. Are you suitably recovered? Y'shtola: Sevrin here has apprised me of all that transpired. His account shed some light upon how you came to be attacked by a golem of all things. Y'shtola: A golem is a mindless automaton, inert save when commanded to be otherwise. Common pirates could not hope to control such a thing, so arcane are its workings. Y'shtola: But then these tattooed wretches are no common pirates─they are the minions of the Sahagin. As to their purpose...well, I shall get to the bottom of it. Y'shtola: But first I must escort Sevrin back to his place of employment. I daresay Staelwyrn will be wondering what has become of him. Y'shtola: And you too, for that matter. I will bear word to him of your preservation, but I am certain he would like to thank you in person. Pray pay the man a visit. Y'shtola: Ah...he told me of you, but perchance he did not tell you of me. My name is Y'shtola. Y'shtola: I am...a naturalist of sorts, surveying the aether in the hope that it might offer up some clue as to our predicament. Sevrin: I'd say I owed you my life...but that don't cover it. If it weren't for you, my friends would be dead, an' all... Sevrin: 'Tis a debt I can never repay. But I'll not make things worse by runnin' away. Take me to Summerford Farms, an' I'll face the consequences. Y'shtola: For reasons I cannot fathom, you seem...
Forgive me. Mayhap we shall have a chance to speak again when I have marshaled my thoughts. Y'shtola: Until our paths next cross, farewell.

Staelwyrn: Lo! I knew you'd return. Staelwyrn: Y'shtola delivered Sevrin a bit ago. Tales of your heroic deeds precede you! Staelwyrn: The rest came shufflin' back, too─the lot of 'em sportin' the same haunted expression. Sevrin: It's me who's to blame for that─that an' the rest. Sevrin: I was once a Serpent Reaver. Staelwyrn: ...A thrall to the Sahagin? Seven hells... Reavers may look and sound and act like pirates, but they're naught but the fishbacks' flunkies. Sevrin: Us pirates ain't much for laws, but there's things we won't do. We've got a code, see─but the Reavers've never followed a word of it. A few years back, they started snatchin' law-abidin' Lominsans. Sevrin: I'd only just taken my oath when our captain bent the knee to his new Sahagin masters. I knew I had to get away. Sevrin: So I crept off one night, got myself a new name, an' found myself a new home─Summerford Farms. Trouble is, secrets don't stay secret for long 'round here, an' word soon spread...all the way back to the sea. Sevrin: The penalty for desertion is death, but the Reavers offered me a way out instead─my freedom in exchange for my mates'. Staelwyrn: The letter... Sevrin: I dunno what I was thinkin'... <snort> I wasn't bloody thinkin'. Too busy soilin' meself. Staelwyrn: Aye, but you got there in the end, didn't you? When the time came, you made the right decision. Staelwyrn: The men say little to me, but I hear 'em talk of how you stood up to the Reavers at the last─of how you tried to give your life to save theirs. Sevrin: Be that as it may, no deed, however good, can atone for the crime of betrayin' your brethren. Sevrin: I know that─I do. That's why I'm going to hand myself over to the Yellowjackets. I'll bring shame to the farm no more. Staelwyrn: Hm. You'll hear no arguments from me. Each man must sail accordin' to his own moral compass. Staelwyrn: I just hope yours guides you back here someday. There will always be a place for you at Summerford Farms, lass. Sevrin: An' I'll always be in your debt, Staelwyrn.

Staelwyrn: I owe you a debt too, Forename. Not once have you let me down. Thank you for savin' the men of my farm. Staelwyrn: If I could ask one more favor of you, it'd be this: tell Baderon what's happened, from start to finish. I'm certain he'd put in a good word for Sevrin if he knew the whole story. Staelwyrn: And he's one of the few people I know who the Yellowjackets'll listen to. Staelwyrn: Well, I reckon I've asked all I can possibly ask of you. Safe travels, lass.

Baderon: ...Bloody 'ells! Life on the farm ain't quite 'ow I pictured it! Baderon: Ah, but ye needn't worry yerself over young Sevrin. The Yellowjacket as 'ands out the punishments is a good mate o' mine. If I ask 'im nice, I reckon 'e'd be willin' to commute the lad's sentence from 'angin' to keelhaulin', kindly gent that 'e is.
...Ah, I'm only jestin' with ye! I'll see 'e's treated fair. Baderon: Now, it sounds to me like ye've done everythin' ol' Staelwyrn asked o' ye an' more─justifyin' me generous finder's fee in the process. Much obliged, lass! Baderon: As fer a reward...well, she's a lonely lady, this Drownin' Wench o' mine. 'Ow'd ye fancy keepin' 'er company fer a spell...with free room an' board? Baderon: 'Venturin's a tryin' business, after all. Them as don't rest their bones every now an' again tend to end up with broken ones. An' take it from me: fightin' ain't nearly so much fun when yer nursin' a shattered arm. Got that? Good. There'll always be a free bed fer ye, so make use of it. Baderon: Not that ye'll 'ave much time fer lyin' around, what with all the leves ye'll be doin'. Oh, didn't I mention? I'm puttin' yer name down fer leves. Baderon: Our guild draws all manner o' clients, offerin' all manner of odd jobs. Honestly, ye'd be amazed 'ow much folk'll pay to avoid doin' an honest day's labor. Baderon: Just give T'mokkri a shout whenever ye feel like makin' a few extra gil. She'll always 'ave some task or other fer ye to do. Baderon: Oh, an' it's all above board, 'case yer wonderin'. We're careful to stay on the Admiral's right side in 'ere─unlike some pirates I could mention... I tell ye, if it turns out they 'ad aught to do with them kidnappin's, there'll be seven hells to pay. A proper bleedin' reckonin'... Baderon: Mayhap that's what Limsa needs, though. On rough seas, sometimes ye 'ave to rock the boat to right it. Baderon: But we'll 'ave time fer such talk when yer well an' rested. Till then, enjoy the Wench's 'ospitality!

Sky-high Baderon, the proprietor of the Drowning Wench, has a suggestion to put you on the road towards new adventures.

Baderon: 'Ow do ye fare, Forename? Rested and ready to expand yer 'orizons? Baderon: Well, then, I've an idea o' where ye might try 'eadin' next. 'Ave ye 'eard o' the Skylift out in middle La Noscea? Baderon: If ye've ever visited Woad Whisper Canyon, then ye must've been up and down the thing at least once. It's that big bleedin' scaffoldin' attached to the Descent. Baderon: Ye've likely seen the lads and lasses out there usin' it to 'aul cargo up the cliff face. 'Ard labor, that, and I 'ear they could use an enterprisin' soul to pick up the odd jobs what no other bugger 'as time to deal with. Baderon: Track down the 'ead o' the operation─bloke by the name o' Wyrkrhit─and 'e'll be sure to put ye to work on a task or two.

Wyrkrhit: Baderon sent ye out here, did he? Then consider yerself welcome at the Skylift. Wyrkrhit: Look at that bloody cliff, will ye? One blast o' fiery hell from that huge dragon was all it took to split the ground in half. Wyrkrhit: Cargo still needs to get through, though, so this mess o' wood an' pulleys was our solution to the problem. Wyrkrhit: Well, one of 'em, at least. If the gods were kind─an' they ain't─I'd have about a dozen more workers to handle me growin' list o' headaches...

Thanks a Million Wyrkrhit, a Skylift operator, needs you to recover a cargo load abandoned by a terrified wagon driver and deliver it to its intended recipient.

Wyrkrhit: Glad I am to see ye again, lass. A wagon driver just returned in a great bloody hurry, screamin' about some monstrosity what sprang out from a millioncorn seedling in his cargo. Wyrkrhit: Seems the gutless bastard tossed it over the side afore turnin' tail an' runnin' for his life. I need ye to head down the road, recover that seedling, an' deliver it to Lyulf over at Swiftperch in western La Noscea. Wyrkrhit: Whatever he pays ye for the cargo is yers to keep. After all, I don't rightly know what else is lurkin' inside that plant, an' ye deserve to be rewarded for yer troubles. Wyrkrhit: Oh, an' ye'll also find an aetheryte in Swiftperch, so the journey should be worth yer while.

Lyulf: Has Nymeia Herself forsaken this desolate land? Though I understood there were risks in gambling my entire fortune on a crop of millioncorn, I at least expected the seedling to be delivered before disaster struck!

Millioncorn Seedling This strain of millioncorn has been bred over generations to grow in even the rockiest of soils.

Lyulf: Is...is that my millioncorn seedling!? O joyous day! It may seem a paltry beginning, but the yield of this particular variety of crop plant is nothing short of astonishing. Lyulf: As you have undoubtedly noticed, Swiftperch lacks a certain, shall we say, vital energy? Thus I mean to restore a modicum of hope to its residents by growing a veritable ocean of corn! Lyulf: You, sir, seem fit to burst with vim and vigor! Might I persuade you to abide a while and help nurture this ailing settlement?

Relighting the Torch Fraeloef, a Yellowjacket on guard duty in Swiftperch, wants you to visit the Brewer's Beacon and investigate the reason behind the waning light.

Fraeloef: You there. Adventurer. Cast your eyes towards the Brewer's Beacon. Does the light not seem uncommonly weak? Fraeloef: It cannot possibly be bright enough to guide the ships sailing in the bay. I would march over to the lighthouse and investigate myself, but I am duty-bound to remain at my post. Fraeloef: I would consider it a favor if you could make a visit to the Brewer's Beacon and see if aught has befallen Khanswys, the lighthouse keeper.

Khanswys: Ye say a Yellowjacket sent ye here? Eh? Me light's grown dim, has it? Well, o' course it bloody has! Khanswys: The bomb what fuels me furnace has up an' buggered off, ye see. If I don't get that beacon fixed up soon, there'll be trouble on the water... Khanswys: I know yer just the messenger, lass, but I can tell a 'venturer when I see one. I'm goin' to need ye to chase down that bomb an' bring back a claw what ye ripped from its smolderin' corpse. Khanswys: Take this here iron brazier an' set her down in the middle o' the Flock─somewhere near the scarecrow, I'd say. Ye get a nice fire goin', an' that frisky bomb'll soon be about. Watch ye don't singe yer eyebrows, lass.

Iron Brazier When lit, this receptacle will not only produce light, but provide heat to the immediate area.

Khanswys: All ye need do is take down that runaway bomb an' bring me one of its little claws.

Bomb Claw Unbearably hot to the touch, this remnant of a voidsent bomb will set aflame nearly anything it comes in contact with.

Khanswys: Ah, ye got the ashy bastard, did ye? Once I put this little firecracker in the furnace, that should keep things runnin' for a while. Khanswys: I had meself a bit of a look while ye was gone, an' Llymlaen curse me if the furnace weren't all bent an' broken. Small wonder the bloody bomb was able to escape. Khanswys: I patched things up as best I could, but I ain't no smitty. Ye might want to have a chat with that Yellowjacket friend o' yers in Swiftperch, an' have him pass the word back to someone in Limsa.

Fraeloef: The furnace is damaged, is it? Very well, I shall write up the relevant reports, but these repairs must needs be effected without delay. Fraeloef: It seems I have another favor to ask of you, adventurer. Take yourself straightway to the Armorers' Guild in Limsa Lominsa and explain the situation to Forgemaster H'naanza.

H'naanza: The furnace in the Brewer's Beacon needs repairs? Byregot's beard, I just sent someone out to tinker with it not a week past. Mayhap the bomb Khanswys had trapped in there was a touch too volatile...? H'naanza: I'll have an artisan visit the lighthouse and pay special attention to reinforcing the casing of that furnace. Your work is done here, adventurer. May the Navigator guide you on your journeys.

On to the Drydocks Forgemaster H'naanza, head of Naldiq & Vymelli's, wants you to assist with the workload over at the Moraby Drydocks.

H'naanza: What say you to taking on some work from Naldiq & Vymelli's? We've a great hulking warship to build and could certainly use an extra hand for any number of tasks. H'naanza: For your first job, I need you to run this missive over to Ahtbyrm, the head shipwright at the Moraby Drydocks. H'naanza: We forge most of the ship's bits and pieces here at the Armorers' Guild, but the actual construction takes place at the docks found in the south of lower La Noscea. H'naanza: That's also where you'll find the main offices of Naldiq & Vymelli's. The Moraby Drydocks is one of Limsa Lominsa's most important districts─at least as far as I'm concerned─and I'm sure you'll not regret attuning yourself to the area's aetheryte. H'naanza: If you've no confidence in your sense of direction, you'd be best served making use of the chocobo porters. First floor of the Mizzenmast, in case you were wondering. H'naanza: Should you choose to make the trek on your own two feet, leave the city through the Tempest Gate and follow the road south. May the Navigator guide your steps.

Ahtbyrm: You have a missive for me from Forgemaster H'naanza? I assume it pertains to the pending arrival of the materials I ordered over a moon past. Let's see it, then.

Naldiq & Vymelli Missive An important message entrusted to you by Naldiq & Vymelli's forgemaster, H'naanza with orders to deliver it to Victory shipwright Ahtbyrm.

Ahtbyrm: Blast and botheration! Another delay? I am well aware of the shortage of skilled artisans, but this is insufferable! Ahtbyrm: <sigh> My apologies. The messenger does not deserve to bear the brunt of my frustration. Might I have your name? Ahtbyrm: Forename, is it? Well, Forename, this proud maiden you see taking shape before you is the Victory, the first new vessel to grace the docks since the Calamity. Ahtbyrm: We may have lost the bulk of our ships that fateful day, but starting with this beauty, we will restore the Maelstrom's fleet to its former glory. The Victory is more than a simple warship─it is the symbol of Limsa Lominsa's rebirth from the wreckage wrought by the coming of the Seventh Umbral Era. Ahtbyrm: Thus we are striving to complete her construction as swiftly as possible, even going so far as to hire veteran shipwrights from outside the thalassocracy. Ahtbyrm: Yet even with such unprecedented measures, there are never enough hands to handle the abundance of tasks. Should you choose to linger at the docks for a time, there is no end of odd jobs for a hardworking adventurer. Be you fair warned─there is no place here for layabouts and troublemakers.

Without a Doubt Ahtbyrm is looking for a member of his crew and the items he was supposed to deliver.

Ahtbyrm: Where in the seven hells is that man!? Not once in twelve moons has he been late with a shipment, and now two whole turns of the sun without a single word. Ahtbyrm: A shipwright of mine─a young man named Fyrilsmyd─recently left Candlekeep Quay to retrieve several crates of supplies ordered from Limsa Lominsa...but has yet to return. Ahtbyrm: I have sent several missives to Haldbroda, but his replies are always the same. He does not recall ever seeing the wright, nor the supplies he was scheduled to collect. That man knows something, and I severely doubt he is telling me the whole truth. Ahtbyrm: As I cannot leave my post, I would ask you to travel to Candlekeep Quay in my stead and inform Haldbroda that if he insists on playing these games, I will personally see that he is transferred to Turtleback Island, where he can rot alone in the middle of the sea for eternity.

Haldbroda: Turtleback Island!? He cannot do that...can he? Haldbroda: I swear on my poor nana's grave, Navigator rest her soul, I know naught of this Fyrilsmyd, nor his precious supplies. Haldbroda: Hells, we here at the Quay have had enough trouble these past few suns, what with the sinking of that Lominsan cargo ship off the Salt Strand. I haven't the time to take a proper piss, let alone make note of every scrag that wanders in off the Grip.

Righting the Shipwright Haldbroda has a suggestion for the kind adventurer who came bearing foreman Ahtbyrm's message.

Haldbroda: Now, the way I see it, if you have time to be standing here questioning my character, then you most certainly have the time to get that arse of yours down to the Salt Strand and help us search for survivors of the wreck. Haldbroda: Who knows? You may just run across this Fyrilsmyd everyone seems so eager to find. Here's to hoping the Navigator hasn't found him first.

Fyrilsmyd: Aye, I'm Fyrilsmyd. Ye say the foreman's wonderin' on me whereabouts? I thought he might be. But ye must know, I cannot show me face at the Drydocks until I've righted the terrible wrong I caused. Fyrilsmyd: Two nights past, I made the trip from the Drydocks to Candlekeep Quay, just as the foreman asked. The seas were right rough, and the cap'n of the cargo ship was wary of bringin' her too close to the cliffs, so I paid a few coins to a fisher to take me out to meet her. Fyrilsmyd: By the time we was halfway 'twixt shore and ship, the swells had risen to nigh on ten yalms, and 'twasn't long afore the waves had hold of us. Try as we might to steady the boat, nature's grip was too tight, and we was flung headlong into the Lominsan galley. Fyrilsmyd: When I awoke, both ships were gone, and the cargo I was to collect lay strewn across the Salt Strand. I's made every effort to salvage it, but the sands are crawlin' with Qiqirn, and I ain't a one with a sword. And now ye see why it is I cannot return to the Drydocks...

Fyrilsmyd: That night, I was tossed into the sea like some doll of rags, and it weren't long afore the world 'round me faded to black as I slipped deeper into the abyss. But lo, the Navigator wouldn't see me to the gates of the seven hells, and I woke to find meself washed ashore. And here I's been, ever since, waitin' for a chance to salvage me master's cargo.

Folded Sailcloth A piece of nautical equipment intended for the Victory and sought after by shipwright Fyrilsmyd.

Brass Helm Wheel A piece of nautical equipment intended for the Victory and sought after by shipwright Fyrilsmyd.

Knot of Tangled Rigging A piece of nautical equipment intended for the Victory and sought after by shipwright Fyrilsmyd.

Fyrilsmyd: The missin' parts! I-I don't know how I can repay you! Fyrilsmyd: I'll deliver the supplies right away...but first I must stop by the Quay so that I might pay me respects to the widow of the brave fisher who gave his life fer a handful o' coin. Fyrilsmyd: Could ye tell Ahtbyrm that I'll be back at the Drydocks by nightfall? Many thanks, adventurer! I will not forget this kindness!

Ahtbyrm: I am relieved to hear that both Fyrilsmyd and the supplies are unharmed, though it was foolish for him to believe that I would blame him for that which was obviously out of his hands. Ahtbyrm: You see, there was no storm that day, and the seas here adjacent the Drydocks were as calm as a slumbering child. This leads me to believe that the trouble the ships encountered off Candlekeep Quay was of a less natural sort─the sort which the Sahagin have been known to conjure.

Do Angry Pirates Dream Victory foreman Ahtbyrm is considering recommending you for an important job involving drydock security.

Ahtbyrm: Forename. While I originally had doubts about your motives, you have repeatedly proven yourself an asset to Naldiq & Vymelli's. I still do not like you, but that does not mean I do not trust you. Ahtbyrm: Ghimthota, head of the watch here at the Drydocks, believes that pirates may be plotting an attack on the Victory, and she requires assistance investigating a group of unsavory individuals making camp nearby. I have recommended you for the task. Ahtbyrm: Despite all Limsa Lominsa endured before, during, and following the Calamity, the fact that there are still those who would turn their backs on the city-state so that they might line their pockets with a few handfuls of coin... Just the thought of it sickens me.

Ghimthota: Ah, yes. I had a feeling you would be the one Ahtbyrm sent. Since you first arrived at the Moraby Drydocks, I have had my men watch you. Oh, there's no need to get angry. I make it a point to keep an eye on all those new to the area. It is simply protocol. Ghimthota: And you'll be pleased to know that nothing...incriminating was found. You appear to be a model citizen. That, and the foreman seems to think somewhat highly of you...which I must admit is quite shocking. The man doesn't even trust his own mother. Ghimthota: Very well, then. I assume Ahtbyrm informed you of what your task would entail. The pirates we believe are conspiring to raid the Drydocks were last seen making camp near an ancient stone called the mark of the Spinner. I would have you approach the men, posing as a lost adventurer, and see if you cannot somehow learn of their intentions. C'nangho stationed at the rear gates can provide you with an exact location of the camp.

C'nangho: Forename! Ha ha! I knew it! No more sardines for C'nangho. Tonight, I shall dine on the finest salmon on the peninsula! Why? Well, I had a little wager going with some of the other guards on who Ahtbyrm would recommend for the next job. My money was on you! C'nangho: Ah, the job. Yes, of course. If you follow the road past the gates to the southeast, you will eventually come to a barren cape with a single large stone half-buried in the cliff overlooking the sea. Followers of the Twelve say it's a holy place dedicated to Nymeia, the Spinner. I'd be surprised if the pirates camped up there were aware of that, though.

Disreputable Pirate: I'm givin' ye to the count of nine to step back on that path, and carry yer 'venturin' arse back down to whatever rock it is ye crawled out from under. Disreputable Pirate: Ye see, I's 'ad it up to me ears with yer type, roamin' the 'ills like they was yers to roam. It's gettin' to be that a man cannae enjoy a mug o' rum wivout some shite-breath outlander runnin' up askin' which is the way to the local levemete. Seven 'ells if I know! I'm a bloody pirate, godsdammit! Disreputable Pirate: Thal's balls! Once we 'ave me boy back, I'm puttin' this godsforsaken piss'ole of an island so far behind me, ain't no one'll remember I was ever 'ere. Come on, scrags. We's knives to sharpen.

Ghimthota: So the trespassers are indeed pirates, and they are indeed planning something. But what is this talk of getting “me boy back”? Ghimthota: Could it be that their target never was the Victory? Ghimthota: Something is not right, and I won't sit by idly waiting for those pirates to make the first move. I shall order increased patrols immediately. Thank you again for your help, Forename. It appears we were wise to put our trust in you.

Victory in Peril Ghimthota, a captain of the watch at the Moraby Drydocks, wishes your aid in dealing with potential intruders.

Ghimthota: I am concerned, Forename. It appears that the pirates I had you investigate are on the move. Ghimthota: They creep ever closer to the Drydocks, so I must assume they mean to target the Victory herself. Ghimthota: That ship is the symbol of everything Limsa Lominsa strives to become, and I will not allow these base scoundrels to lay a single finger upon her hull. Ghimthota: We must apprehend them before they put their plans into motion! And you, Forename, are just the man to do it. Ghimthota: Without your capable assistance, I fear the security of the Drydocks cannot be guaranteed. Ghimthota: Not moments ago, my guards submitted reports of suspicious activity in the area. Pray begin your efforts by listening to one of their accounts firsthand. Ghimthota: It matters not whom you choose to speak with, but be sure to question either Urswyrst at the front gate or C'nangho at the rear. Ghimthota: Any suspect saboteurs you encounter during the course of your investigation are to be interrogated. Report any and all findings directly to me.

Urswyrst: Ghimthota sent you to follow up on my report? Urswyrst: Well, it was not too long ago that I saw some unsavory sort slinking along the top of the bluff near Empty Heart, just over yonder. Urswyrst: It may be that he's still about. If you've got the time, adventurer, I'd much appreciate you getting up there to take a look.

C'nangho: Hail, adventurer. Glad to have another hand aboard to help shore up security. C'nangho: The gods know our reports would sit on Ghimthota's desk gathering dust if it weren't for the assistance of those such as yourself. C'nangho: Speaking of reports, though, I saw one of those mangy pirates lurking around the cliff near Empty Heart. I'd take a closer look before he has a chance to cover his tracks.

Shifty-eyed Sailor: Bah, spotted me, did ye? Well, yer too late─what's to 'appen is already 'appenin'.

Ghimthota: So, you found me one of those pirates, did you? Ghimthota: I knew you were the right adventurer to ask for aid. Ghimthota: But what could these knaves be planning? “What's to happen is already happening”...? Storm Soldier: Captain! Ungh... Trouble...at the shipyard... <pant> Ghimthota: Easy now, soldier. Who did this to you? Storm Soldier: <pant> Pirates... Out of nowhere... <cough> Stuck me good... Ghimthota: Gods below, we are not prepared for this! Ghimthota: The pirates, soldier, how many do they number? Storm Soldier: Not sure... More than I could quickly count... Seemed to be carrying...explosives... Ghimthota: Explosives!? Then there is no time to lose! Ghimthota: Forename, you heard the situation. Make your way to the shipyard and engage these intruders! Ghimthota: I will see to this man's wounds, then follow after. Ghimthota: Make haste, now!

Ahtzapfyn: Gahahaha! Never reckoned it'd be this easy! Still don't trust those slimy bastards, but their plan worked like a charm! Ahtbyrm: Da! What are you doing, you great bloody fool!? Ahtzapfyn: Shut yer trap, boy. Ahtzapfyn: This'll all be over soon. All that's left now is to blow this ugly pile o' driftwood into splinters. Ahtbyrm: Why would you do such a thing!? Have you any idea how important this ship is? What it represents? Ahtzapfyn: Aye, an' that's what makes it all the sweeter! Whatever it takes to knock some sense into me treacherous, backstabbin' son! Ahtzapfyn: Imagine, a boy o' mine givin' up the pirate life to become a shipwright! An' buildin' a bleedin' Maelstrom vessel at that! What under Llymlaen's wide, green ocean made ye take up with these self-righteous shites!? Ahtbyrm: You're the one with no bloody sense, Da! Don't you see? The pirates had their glory days, but that era is over! Ghimthota: Ah! I wondered why Ahtbyrm never spoke of his father. I never would have thought... Ahtzapfyn: This ship's a symbol alright─of everythin' what went wrong with the world. An' I mean to shatter it into a hunnerd thousand pieces! Ahtbyrm: Ghimthota! Forename! Pray beat the tar out of this bloated sea slug, and make sure no harm comes to the Victory!

Ahtbyrm: Da, this is madness! Ahtzapfyn the Absorbed: A pirate don't abandon 'is treasures! Ahtbyrm: My father... You must stop him! Storm Captain Ghimthota Sthalmoenwyn: Leave him to us.
Forename, C'nangho, to me! Mamool Ja Mercenary Head: As we agreed, Ahtzapfyn! Storm Private C'nangho Enah: Mamool Ja mercenaries!? Storm Captain Ghimthota Sthalmoenwyn: I'll take the Mamool Ja. You focus on Ahtzapfyn. Ahtzapfyn the Absorbed: Ye've no idea who yer up against! Storm Private C'nangho Enah: Ware, adventurer! Ahtzapfyn has a crazy glint in his eye... Ahtzapfyn the Absorbed: Now, outta me damn way! Ahtbyrm: Please! You cannot let him win!

Ahtzapfyn: I...I must be gettin' old, lettin' some green 'venturer get the best o' me. Ahtbyrm: Da... Ahtzapfyn: <cough> That's one big bloody ship. Big...an' nasty lookin'. Ye made that, did ye...?

Ahtbyrm: My thanks, Forename. I shudder to think what may have become of the Victory without your intervention. Ahtbyrm: <sigh> The pirates have made a right mess of things─I'd best get to sorting out the docks. Ahtbyrm: ...And my thoughts could use some sorting out as well. Ever did my father have a way of turning my life upside down. Ahtbyrm: Pray convey my thanks─and my apologies─to Ghimthota.

Ghimthota: How fare you, Forename? I cannot begin to thank you for the role you played in preventing this madness. Ghimthota: You defended more than a simple ship─you saved the budding hope of Limsa Lominsa from a violent demise. The day was yours. Ghimthota: It seems our security regimen will require much in the way of improvement if we are to truly keep the Drydocks safe. Ghimthota: ...Ahtbyrm apologizes? Well, I suppose I can understand why he would feel responsible for his father's actions. Of all those involved, this incident was hardest on him. Ghimthota: But, in time, I believe he will come to a single conclusion: the most fitting way of moving past his anguish is to see the Victory completed and in the water. Ghimthota: Ah, by the by, the pirates we defeated have been handed over to the Yellowjackets. Reyner's men will be taking over the investigation. Ghimthota: Before the Yellowjackets moved in, however, we recovered a most unusual object. Should you have the time to spare, I would ask of you another favor...

Men of the Blue Tattoos Ghimthota wishes to entrust you with an important task.

Ghimthota: Forename. In light of your role in recent events, there are few others to whom I would entrust this task. Ghimthota: Since last we spoke, a curious missive has been discovered amongst the personal effects of Ahtzapfyn, the pirate behind the plot to sabotage the Victory. Ghimthota: This missive was penned in the most unusual script─a script we believe to be some manner of code. Ghimthota: Needless to say, anything which a proven enemy of Limsa Lominsa deems worthy of enciphering is like to be of great interest to the Maelstrom. Unfortunately, none among us can make any sense of the message. Ghimthota: In cases such as this, I am told the Yellowjackets are wont to turn to Baderon and his convenient...connections. Ghimthota: Thus I would have you deliver this missive to the proprietor of the Drowning Wench. Into his hand, and no other, do you understand?

Baderon: Ahoy there, Forename! I've been 'earin' about your deeds at the Drydocks! Baderon: Ahtbyrm laid out the entire tale fer me. Poor sod was still reelin' at 'is old man's part in the business, but at least ye kept the Victory from bein' sunk afore she'd sailed. Baderon: An' fer that, I owe ye me thanks! Baderon: Ye've really made a name fer yerself 'ere in Limsa, lass. Folk know that when they need summat doin'─ Baderon: Eh? You need summat doin'? An' what might that be?

Arcane Epistle Whatever language this missive is written in, it is one you are not familiar with.

Baderon: ...Ye want someone to read a message writ in funny letters fer ye? An' Ghimthota thought I might know a man as could? Well, let's see it, then! Baderon: Aye... Baderon: ...I reckon I might know a canny bugger what can read stuff like this. Ugly sod by the name o' Baderon. Baderon: Ye know, yer like one o' me regulars now, Forename. Baderon: Ye've never let me down yet, an', Navigator 'elp me, I reckon I can trust ye. Baderon: Ghimthota was right to want this message deciphered... We've got us some trouble brewin', 'ere, an' no mistake. Get ready fer action, an' I'll explain.

Feint and Strike Baderon has a task for a trusted adventurer.

Baderon: Good to 'ave ye aboard, lass. Now then...where to start? Baderon: Back when I was younger an' nastier, I earned me livin' as a sellsword. In that business, if ye wanted to know what yer enemy was up to, you 'ad to learn to read the orders ye prised from the cold dead 'ands of 'is mates. That's 'ow I came to know 'ow to read yer message. Baderon: Truth be told, the script was only too bloody familiar. Them's Sahagin letters, lass. An' I should know─I've gutted more fishback messengers than I can count. Baderon: It gets worse, though... The plan to blow up the Victory is all in 'ere, right down to the fine details. Baderon: Looks like they meant to raise eight kinds of 'ell in western La Noscea, then 'it the Maelstrom's new flagship in the confusion. Baderon: The point bein', the attack on the Victory weren't the act of a few rebellious pirates─'twas a key part o' some canny bastard's grand plan. Baderon: But if I'm readin' this aright, the attack itself came much too early. I'll wager they panicked when they saw ye was on to 'em, rushed in to do the job, an' buggered it up. Baderon: Hmmm... Them tattoo-faced bastards as they say was payin' Ahtbyrm's old man, they're with the Serpent Reavers, right? ...But none o' their crew was there, was they? Did they 'ave summat better to do, or what? Baderon: ...Seven 'ells! I've got it all backwards! That mess at the Victory─that was meant to be the bloody distraction! Baderon: The fishbacks ain't interested in the Maelstrom's baby! They're after men, just like they've always been. They're sendin' their pirate lackeys after a civilian target. Baderon: This bit about raisin' 'ell in western La Noscea...that's where it'll be. Summat tells me Swiftperch is about to get 'it, an' 'it 'ard! Baderon: 'Ere's a rough translation o' the message. Baderon: Take it to Commodore Reyner at the Coral Tower, an' tell 'im 'e's in fer a busy day. Baderon: Oh, an' give 'im an 'and, eh? Ye can be damn sure 'e'll need one.

Reyner: Yes, I am Reyner. Ah, you must be the adventurer whose name seems to be on everyone's lips. Reyner: You are to be commended for your part in thwarting the plot to destroy the Victory. Now, what can I do for you this day? Reyner: You bear an urgent message from Baderon? Why do I get the feeling that my hopes for a quiet morning are about to be cruelly dashed? Tell me, what is afoot?

Baderon's Jottings A small slip of paper with Drowning Wench proprietor Baderon Tenfingers's unintelligible writing scrawled all about it.

Reyner: An assault on Swiftperch!? But we've seen nothing to suggest the Serpent Reavers are massing for an attack. Reyner: Even so, it would be foolish to discount the possibility─Baderon is rarely wrong about such matters. Reyner: I will marshal the Yellowjackets for battle immediately. Reyner: The only question is where to send them. While I concur with Baderon's assessment that the attack on the Drydocks was intended as a diversion, Swiftperch is but one of several possible targets for the main thrust. Yellowjacket: Commodore, sir! Reyner: Report. Yellowjacket: It's the Sahagin, sir! They've mounted a large-scale assault on South Tidegate, and threaten to overwhelm our defenses within the day. The garrison requests immediate reinforcements. Reyner: By the Navigator... It seems my decision has been made for me. Reyner: Muster the troops and give the order to march. Reyner: Aye, the Serpent Reavers are in league with the Sahagin. Reyner: ...Which means there is every chance this assault on Tidegate may yet prove to be another feint. The fact remains, however, that we can ill afford to ignore it. And that leaves Swiftperch vulnerable to those pirate traitors. Reyner: It is at times such as these that I wish the Warriors of Light yet walked among us. But wishes will avail us naught. Surname, you must serve in their absence. Make for Swiftperch with all haste and lend your strength to the squads I can spare for the settlement's defense.

Ryssfloh: Commodore Reyner sent word we'd be getting reinforcements, but I didn't expect him to send you! You certainly look like you've seen your share of action, though─you bear little resemblance to the wide-eyed whelp I met fresh off the ferry. Ryssfloh: In any case, do you know what you're fighting for here? This place─Swiftperch─it was rebuilt by folk who stood strong in the face of every hardship the Calamity threw their way. Ryssfloh: And we're not about to let some fish-fancying scum claim the honor of being the ones who finally broke their spirits. Don't give those pirate bastards one bloody ilm, you hear me?

Glazrael: Here they come! Serpent Reaver Deckhand: 'Ere now, I thought all them Yellowjacket worms was meant to be busy. That useless scrag ain't followed the plan, 'as 'e? Serpent Reaver Deckhand: Now what? Pull back and wait for our Sahagin brothers? Baenryss: Piss on that! We ain't turnin' back empty-handed! Baenryss: Remember, no killin' the smallfolk, or it'll be your blood what stains Lord Leviathan's altars! Baenryss: The Yellowbellies ye can butcher at will! Them dirt-eatin' slugs'll be crushed under the full might o' the Serpent Reavers! Ryssfloh: Seems Swiftperch was the main target after all, eh? Ryssfloh: Squads One and Two, protect the townsfolk! Squad Three, you're our rear guard! Ryssfloh: The rest of you─we meet their charge where we stand! Let us bear the commodore word of our victory, or no word at all! Yellowjacket Infantry: For Limsa Lominsa! Baenryss: Rargh! I'll gut all you Yellowbellies an' dance on yer gizzards!

Ryssfloh: Leave no pirate scum standing! Show 'em how a Yellowjacket fights! Glazrael Saltwind: Bwahaha! Time to split some heads, adventurer! Let's start with the frontline fodder! Ryssfloh: More of the bastards!? Come on, then! Baenryss of the Deep: All right, ye scurvy bastards... Here's a trick to make ye soil yer breeches! Yellowjacket: So cold... Baenryss of the Deep: Dweller o' the Abyss, yer master calls! Heed me words an' smite me foes! Ryssfloh: Is that a bloody voidsent!? Hold steady, lads! Glazrael Saltwind: Keep on pummeling him! He can't take much more of this!

Ryssfloh: Well fought─the Reavers are beaten and scattered. Ryssfloh: I'll take some men and hunt down the stragglers. Oh, but there may be more of them lurking about, so don't let your guard down just yet. Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): The source of his strength becomes clear... Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): You may have bested the golem, but you will not fare so well this day. Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): O mournful voice of creation! Send unto me a creature of the abyss, my thrall to command, that I may smite mine enemies! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Your very being imperils the plan. You cannot be suffered to live.

Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Soon, you shall take your vile gifts to the grave! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Mwahahaha! Writhe as the venom eats its way through your veins! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Whence springs this preternatural might!? Y'shtola: A fearsome opponent...against whom you shall not stand alone! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): An unwelcome guest. No matter, all shall fall before me! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): No mortal should possess such strength! Y'shtola: His power wanes! Afford him no chance to recover!

Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Unnngh... That the wisdom of the Paragons should be brought low...by mere mortals... Y'shtola: “Paragons,” did he say? Then it is as I feared. Y'shtola: They are known as the Bringers of Chaos...or Ascians, to give them their proper name. Y'shtola: It would seem our suspicions were correct─it is they who have been manipulating the beast tribes. Y'shtola: Pardon? You would know if we Sharlayans have encountered Ascians before?
...I have never spoken to you of my homeland. How did you know whence I hail? Y'shtola: Wait. I do begin to see. You have been blessed with a special gift. Ryssfloh: Are you all right, lass!? If I'd known a mean bugger like that was hiding in the bushes, I would've left a squad or six to keep you company. Ryssfloh: Well, at least now we can call this kidnapping investigation to a close. Those Reavers were the ones spiriting folk away in the dead of night, and this bastard here was pulling all the strings. Y'shtola: A trifle simplistic, but not inaccurate. Y'shtola: I came as soon as I sensed his presence, but I never thought to find such a scene of carnage. Yet we prevailed. And thanks to your heroic actions, I have learned much. Ryssfloh: Aye, “heroic” is the word. I don't want to think about what would've happened if you hadn't been here, friend. Ryssfloh: And your assistance is much appreciated, too, Lady Y'shtola. Please give our regards to the Scions. Y'shtola: I am glad to have played a role in bringing what I hope is an end to this disturbing spate of abductions. Y'shtola: The thread of your fate forms a part of a most intriguing tapestry. Mayhap we will be afforded the chance to speak more in the near future. Y'shtola: For now, however, you must see this particular tale to its conclusion. Pray send my greetings to Commodore Reyner.

Reyner: Surname, eagerly have I awaited your return! Reyner: Word of your exploits is already spreading through the ranks. My troops and I owe you a great debt of gratitude for your timely assistance. Reyner: You have shown yourself to be possessed of a sure arm, a strong spirit, and sound judgment. Would that Limsa Lominsa had more of your like. Reyner: I have little doubt that you shall one day join the ranks of Eorzea's greatest adventurers. It is but a matter of time. Reyner: Clearly, Baderon's eye for potential remains as sharp as ever, though I doubt even he imagined you capable of such feats. Reyner: Might you favor me with your own account of the day's events? Such victories bear retelling!

Reyner: Y'shtola has been working with us for quite some time, you see. Reyner: And she was only too willing to assist the Yellowjackets in the kidnapping investigation, proving herself a stalwart ally of Limsa Lominsa yet again. Reyner: Needless to say, after your part in thwarting the attempted sabotage of the Victory, and the small matter of your deeds at Swiftperch, you too have proven yourself a valued friend of the thalassocracy. Yellowjacket: Admiral! Reyner: May I present to you Admiral Bloefhiswyn.

Merlwyb: So this is the adventurer I've been reading about in the field reports. Merlwyb: I am Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, Admiral of Limsa Lominsa. Merlwyb: On behalf of my people, I bid you thanks for the deeds you have done this day. Merlwyb: A token of our gratitude. What worth is high regard without just reward, after all? Ha! Merlwyb: Since you first set foot in our city, my good friend Baderon and Commodore Reyner have taken turns at regaling me with tales of your exploits. Merlwyb: Safe to say, they left an impression. Join me at the coming banquet. Merlwyb: A seat of honor at the celebratory feast is the least I can offer the man who foiled the Sahagin. Yellowjacket: A seat at the feast! Merlwyb: Oh, and don't be late. Merlwyb: Your fellow guests will be eager to take the measure of their newest hero, and some do not take kindly to being kept waiting. Till then, may you walk in the light of the Crystal.

High Society Commodore Reyner wishes to speak with you regarding the forthcoming banquet.

Reyner: I am not sure you understand just how unusual it is for the Admiral to invite an adventurer to a state banquet. Reyner: It is a highly coveted honor. Why, even the officers under her direct command are rarely afforded such recognition! Reyner: But I will not deny you have earned it. Many of the tasks you have performed in service to the thalassocracy have been both difficult and dangerous. Reyner: This is a reward for all of your efforts─a nod to your many achievements, both large and small. Reyner: Has the enormity of this moment yet to sink in? Perchance you will realize its significance when you stand before the assembled dignitaries of Limsa Lominsa! ...And now that I have imagined the scene, I realize that you will require attire suitable for the occasion. Reyner: I suggest you visit the Wench and see what Baderon can arrange. He is surprisingly knowledgeable about such things.

Baderon: Well, well...if it ain't Merlwyb's guest of 'onor! 'Obnobbin' with the 'igh an' mighty, now, is it? Baderon: I tell ye, lad, I damn near snorted ale out me nose when I 'eard the news. Ye've come a long bloody way, you 'ave, an' that's the truth. Baderon: Well, one thing's fer sure─ye'll not want fer decent grub. These banquets are catered by the bleedin' Bismarck, no less. Baderon: 'Tis a grand chance to fill yer belly to burstin' with fine an'─more importantly─free food. Baderon: But we can't have ye turnin' up in yer shite-caked 'venturin' gear. Baderon: No, the 'ero o' the hour needs to 'ave a touch o' refinement about 'im─if only to stop folk complainin' when 'e stuffs 'is face with cake. Take yerself over to the Octant an' speak to J'nasshym o' the Brugaire Consortium. She'll furnish ye with summat gentlemanly to wear. Baderon: I've already 'ad a word with 'er, so all ye need do is pick up the goods, then bring 'em back 'ere, so as I can tell ye what's what.

J'nasshym: Good morning, sir. I assume you're the underdressed “gentleman” Baderon mentioned? J'nasshym: <sniff> I see he was not exaggerating... J'nasshym: Ahem. I've chosen these especially for your debut in polite society. Fear not, I'm certain you will absolutely adore them.

Baderon: Been to see J'nasshym, 'ave ye? Let's 'ave that box, then.

Raxa-lined Box A small lockbox entrusted to you by J'nasshym of the Brugaire Consortium.

Baderon: 'Ere we go...a nice pair o' dress shoes fer ye. Baderon: A bloke mightn't 'ave much else to 'is name, but so long as 'e's got a decent pair o' shoes on 'is feet, there ain't nowhere 'e can't go. Baderon: Think of 'em as a gift from me an' all the other folk ye've done right by along the way. Baderon: Aye, aye...'tis a very movin' gesture, I know. Just don't go wellin' up on me, eh? Wouldn't do fer Limsa's new 'ero to turn up at the banquet soaked in 'is own tears an' snot. Anyroad, that's yer garb sorted. Now, ye just need to settle yer nerves. Tell me when yer ready, an' I'll tell ye where yer meant to go.

A Mizzenmast Repast Baderon wants you to let him know when you are ready to depart for the banquet.

Baderon: Yer ready, then, are ye? Good. The banquet'll be startin' soon. If ye'd waited any longer, I'd've considered it me civic duty to 'it ye over the 'ead an' drag ye there. Baderon: Now, make sure yer wearin' them fancy shoes when ye turn up, all right? Carryin' 'em won't do no good. They're meant to make ye look like a gentleman, remember, not a gentleman's bleedin' lackey. Baderon: As fer directions, the feast's bein' 'eld on the Bridge, in the Admiral's briefin' room. Baderon: Speak with Zanthael in Bulwark Hall, an' 'e'll show ye the way. Baderon: Just keep that 'ead 'eld 'igh, lad. After everythin' ye've done fer Limsa, ye've good reason to be proud─an' don't let no 'ighborn bugger tell ye different.

Zanthael: Dress shoes... Fancy dress shoes. An adventurer wearing fancy dress shoes... Zanthael: Oh! Now those are some fancy dress shoes. Come, adventurer, I will show you to the briefing room.

Merlwyb: Brothers and sisters of the sea! Merlwyb: Join me now in honoring this man for his services to our great nation! Merlwyb: May the Navigator guide and protect him on his journey till sea swallows all!

Merlwyb: These pirates you encountered with the tattooed faces... They call themselves the “Serpent Reavers.” Their ranks are formed of cutthroats and madmen who have pledged themselves body and soul to the primal Leviathan. Merlwyb: From what we have gathered, they sought to swell their numbers by spiriting away any soul unfortunate enough to cross their path. Merlwyb: I need not tell you the depth of the animosity between us and the Sahagin. How any seaman worth his salt could devote himself to the fishbacks' god is a question for a more temperate mind than mine. Merlwyb: But thanks to you, our citizens may once more go about their daily lives, safe in the knowledge that they will not be dragged into the darkness by those execrable curs. Y'shtola: Such an extraordinary glow... Y'shtola: This...is one of the Crystals of Light. Merlwyb: By the Navigator... Y'shtola: After our encounter with the goobbue, you had a vision, did you not? Of a towering crystal? Y'shtola: You bathed in Her Light... Merlwyb: Y'shtola's conclusion is clear, and I see no reason to doubt it. You are the vessel of a higher power. Merlwyb: This...being from your vision was the Mothercrystal. Your description matches what little we know of Her. Merlwyb: And if She has chosen you, then your deeds may yet shape the fate of nations. Merlwyb: As once did the deeds of the Warriors of Light. Merlwyb: Know you the tale? Like you, they were not of these lands, yet they fought to protect us all 'gainst the corruption of the primals. Merlwyb: When the Garlean Empire began its conquest of the realm, these heroes joined the Grand Companies, and helped reforge the Eorzean Alliance. Merlwyb: And at the Battle of Carteneau, they took the field beneath our banners, to fight for everything we hold dear. Merlwyb: It was on that day, in the midst of that hell...that we lost them. Merlwyb: Every soul who survived that battle will never forget how it was to fight beside them. We are proud to call them our comrades. Merlwyb: Yet, whenever we try to shout their names, the sound dies in our throats. Merlwyb: And whenever we strain to see their faces with our mind's eye, naught but their shadows appear to us, set against a blinding light. Merlwyb: Ask any true Eorzean who knew them, and the story will be the same. It is for this reason that we call them “the Warriors of Light.” Merlwyb: When I look upon you, I cannot help but be reminded of them. Merlwyb: Keep that Crystal safe. Merlwyb: In time, I believe the Mothercrystal will make clear Her reasons for bestowing it upon you. Merlwyb: Heed well Her words, adventurer. For it is Hydaelyn Herself who speaks.

Raubahn: Flames, to the fore! Raubahn: Victory belongs to the bold! Show those imperial whoresons what we're made of! Merlwyb: The left flank buckles! Divert the Barracudas! Merlwyb: Bid 'em hold that position though it cost 'em their lives! Kan-E-Senna: The Yellow Serpents are in need of succor. Pray send the White Wolves to their aid. Kan-E-Senna: The adventurers risk life and limb for our cause. We must not fail them. Merlwyb: Is aught amiss? Kan-E-Senna: No... It is nothing. ??? (Soldier): Bloody hells! Raubahn: The barrier won't go down so easily! Eyes forward! Kan-E-Senna: We are being watched... Raubahn: Raging Bull calling Blood Thorn! Blood Thorn, respond! Respond, damn you! Raubahn: Arrrgh!!! Jakys Ryder: Raging Bull! This is Mad Snake! Respond! Raubahn: Ryder!? This is Raging Bull! What news!? Jakys Ryder: We're surrounded by a blaze! There's no way out! Gods preserve, what is that thing!? Raubahn: What's going on!? Speak to me! Jakys Ryder: Godsdammit! We cannot hold much longer! Jakys Ryder: AaaaaaAAAAAAAAAH!!! Raubahn: Mad Snake!? Mad Snaaaaaake! Answer me! Raubahn: Damn it! Damn it all to the seventh hell! Merlwyb: What of the Barracudas? Can they not be reached? Storm Runner: Sorry, Admiral─shell's not workin'! Kan-E-Senna: What of our own? Serpent Runner: I cannot say, my lady! That monstrosity appears to be disrupting our communications! Kan-E-Senna: We must keep trying. Call till they respond. Serpent Runner: Yes, my lady! Kan-E-Senna: Admiral, General─we can do no more. We must give the order to withdraw. Raubahn: I will not forsake Louisoix! Kan-E-Senna: General, please! Victory may belong to the bold, but there will be no victor this day! Kan-E-Senna: You know this to be true. Let us not sacrifice lives in vain. Kan-E-Senna: The adventurers fight bravely, but to no avail. Let them withdraw, and let us be the ones to stand with Louisoix. Merlwyb: Belay previous orders! All Maelstrom units are commanded to fall back, effective immediately! Merlwyb: Give the Foreign Levy priority! Let the main host cover their retreat, and bring up the rear! Raubahn: Damn it... Relay the order: all Flames are to withdraw. Raubahn: I don't care if our linkshells are useless! Raubahn: You still have a working pair of legs, don't you!? Well, use 'em, you bloody half-wit! Kan-E-Senna: The outcome of this battle was long since decided. Kan-E-Senna: Better to retreat now, than risk a massacre. Kan-E-Senna: This dark, stifling presence... Who...or what...? Kan-E-Senna: We go to take our place beside Archon Louisoix! To your positions! ??? (Lahabrea): That I should live to behold Bahamut once more... ??? (Lahabrea): Magnificent. The eons of imprisonment have only made him hungrier. ??? (Lahabrea): I am aware of them. Pay them no mind. They are powerless to act. ??? (Lahabrea): It has begun. Soon the planet will regain its true form. ??? (Lahabrea): Ahahaha... Ahahahahaha!

Baderon: Mornin', sunshine. All a bit much fer ye, was it? Baderon: ...What 'appened? Ah, ye don't remember, then. Baderon: Ye keeled over in the middle o' the banquet, an' caused a right stir. 'Ad to carry ye back to the Wench meself. Well, I say “carry”...'twas more a matter o' draggin' an' rollin'. Too much cake, I reckon. Baderon: Anyroad, don't fret─'tis little wonder ye was exhausted after everythin' ye've been through lately. Baderon: Yer little nap seems to 'ave put some color back in yer cheeks, though, so I'll leave ye to it. Baderon: ...Bugger! I almost forgot: the Admiral wants to 'ave a word with ye. Baderon: When ye feel up to it, talk to Zanthael an' 'e'll let ye in to the command room. Oh, an' stay awake, eh? I'm told ol' Merlwyb was in the middle o' tellin' ye a story when ye started snorin' last time, an' I doubt she'd look kindly on it if ye repeated the trick!

Zanthael: Greetings, Forename. Admiral Bloefhiswyn awaits you in the command room. Shall I announce you?

Enter the command room?
Yes
No Zanthael: Still not recovered from your...er...sudden illness? I find a brisk walk along the waterfront always helps to blow away the cobwebs. The smell down there could wake the dead...

Merlwyb: Ah, Forename, it is good to see you on your feet again. You are recovered? Merlwyb: Then let us waste no time. I have a task that needs doing─one I would entrust to no other.

The Lominsan Envoy Merlwyb wishes to entrust you with an important task.

Merlwyb: The duty I have in mind for you requires some explanation. I do hope you have not made other plans. To business, then. Merlwyb: I have penned a letter to each of my counterparts in the Eorzean Alliance. Merlwyb: The Battle of Carteneau and the Calamity that followed claimed countless lives. Merlwyb: It has been five years since those of us who were spared dragged ourselves from the ashes to look upon an Eorzea we scarcely knew... Five years, and yet the people still suffer. Merlwyb: Their lives are fraught with worry and hardship, and the Warriors of Light who might once have given them hope are gone. Merlwyb: Yet we must press on regardless. We will never truly do so, however, till we have faced our past. Merlwyb: To that end, I am proposing that a memorial service be held in each of the city-states on the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Carteneau. Merlwyb: These letters contain the details of said proposal. Merlwyb: And I would have you deliver them to our allies as my personal envoy. Merlwyb: You have proven yourself a staunch and able ally to Limsa, but that is not my only reason for choosing you. No. I choose you because you possess a quality which puts me in mind of history's champions. A quality I feared lost. Say that you will perform this duty. Merlwyb: I knew you would not disappoint me. Merlwyb: This task shall take you far from the borders of our nation, to the city-states of Gridania and Ul'dah. Merlwyb: A grueling journey, to be sure...were you to travel by sea and land. But I mean to have you take to the skies. Merlwyb: An airship pass, to be used at your discretion. Merlwyb: Airships bound for the nations of our allies leave from the landing connected to the Bridge. But before you depart, I suggest you trouble Baderon for a few pearls of wisdom regarding each of your destinations. The old bastard is nothing if not well traveled. Merlwyb: 'Tis a pity I cannot issue such passes with a freer hand, as I did in more peaceful times, when berths were not so limited. But in these times of war, every craft we commit to the clouds risks drawing the eye of the Empire, and every voyage must needs be born of necessity. Merlwyb: Lest you doubt, I consider your place well deserved. Merlwyb: Nor am I alone in that opinion. There were other parties who would see you granted the privilege of air travel. Merlwyb: Aye, Forename, your deeds do not go unnoticed. Merlwyb: Full many see great promise in you. But I have flattered you enough. Merlwyb: On behalf of Limsa Lominsa and her people, I bid you go forth, adventurer. Merlwyb: Discover the realm for which so many have fought and died. Merlwyb: Wonder and danger await you in equal measure, but turn not from either. Only by braving the unknown will you achieve the greatness of which you are surely capable. Merlwyb: The light of the Crystal guides you, and I wager that your destiny will be no small thing.

Baderon: Back from yer meetin' with the Admiral, are ye? Baderon: Personal bleedin' envoy!? Baderon: So ye'll be carryin' the word o' the Admiral 'erself to the leaders o' the Alliance!? Baderon: Bugger me... I knew ye was goin' up in the world, but I didn't realize ye'd got that bloody 'igh! Baderon: I'm proud o' ye, lad! Thinkin' of 'ow far ye've come...why, 'tis enough to bring a tear to me eye! An' that ain't the ale talkin', neither─well, not just the ale, at any rate... Baderon: Bless the Navigator fer steerin' ye my way. Baderon: 'Course, this is only the start! Now ye've got yer 'ands on an airship pass, the 'ole of Eorzea's laid out before ye, like a fair maid on a feather bed! Baderon: An' she's a big girl, too, with plenty of enticin' nooks an' crannies! Baderon: If ye think us Lominsans are characters, just wait till ye cross paths with the grim forest dwellers o' Gridania, or trade coins with the crafty merchants of Ul'dah. Baderon: An' then there's the wild places where the beasties rule, an' no bugger with an onze o' sense sets foot... Baderon: But yer a 'venturer, so I wouldn't let a little thing like that 'old ye back. Baderon: 'Course, it ain't all explorin' an' excitement. Baderon: There's an 'eap o' troubles what plagues every nation, see─'tain't just ours. I'm talkin' intrigue an' infightin', beastmen an' their godsdamned primals─aye, there's an ugly side to life, an' sooner or later, yer bound to walk into it. Baderon: ...But I'll wager there's bugger all out there as you can't 'andle. Summat tells me yer goin' to be just fine. Baderon: The realm's 'ad it rough, 'tis true, but folk're beginnin' to recover from the beatin' the Calamity dealt 'em. Call me an 'opeless optimist, but it wouldn't take much to turn things 'round. Baderon: 'Tis the perfect time fer a 'venturer like yerself to get out there an' make a difference!
...Well, what are ye waitin' fer!?

L'nophlo: Greetings, sir. This is the counter for passengers traveling to Gridania. L'nophlo: ...Wait, aren't you that famous adventurer? It's Forename Surname, isn't it? I thought I recognized you! You are an inspiration to us all, sir! Highwind Skyways is at your disposal! Will you be traveling with us today?

Proceed to the landing area?
Yes
No L'nophlo: Take your time, sir. I'll be glad to assist you when you're ready.

Airship Attendant: Attention, all passengers: the airship bound for Gridania is about to depart. Please make your way to the boarding gate. Baderon: Good fortune to ye, Forename. Baderon: The day'll come when yer name means the same as “'ero” to the folk o' this realm. Baderon: May ye walk in the light o' the Crystal...

Castrum Occidens ??? (Gaius van Baelsar): It has been fifteen years, but the bitter taste of defeat lingers still... Fifteen years since the imperial fleet set course for Mor Dhona,
led by the Agrius, mightiest of all vessels.
Silvertear Lake lay ripe for the taking,
and all of Eorzea would soon be ours...
...or so we believed.
But an innumerable host of dragons met us that day,
at the heart of which flew the great Midgardsormr.
Though we succeeded in slaying that lord among wyrms,
the dread serpent's defeat was bought at too high a price.
Our invincible flagship was lost,
and all hope of victory with her.
So ended our glorious conquest. ??? (Gaius van Baelsar): Eorzea... A blighted realm, riddled with false gods... ??? (Gaius van Baelsar): Twice now it has eluded the Empire's grasp. ??? (Gaius van Baelsar): For all the destruction it wrought, even Meteor, the Great Sin, failed to yield us control over it. ??? (Gaius van Baelsar): And for this failure, the realm has sunk deeper into depravity. ??? (Gaius van Baelsar): It is twisted beyond all reckoning─rotten nigh to the core. ??? (Gaius van Baelsar): Yet it must be saved. ??? (Gaius van Baelsar): Only Garlean rule can bring order to Eorzea. It falls to us to deliver the misguided masses from their ignorance. All (Rhitatyn sas Arvina, Nero tol Scaeva, and Livia sas Junius): We are of one mind, Lord van Baelsar. Loudspeaker: Senior engineers, please report to magitek research following the scheduled inspection. Midlander Engineer (Codename Hummingway): Hey. Is the legatus really planning to take another tilt at Eorzea? Highlander Engineer: Eh!? What hole have you been hiding in? We're in the midst of preparing for a new campaign, and a huge one at that! Midlander Engineer (Codename Hummingway): But...I thought the Emperor had given up the western lands for lost after Carteneau. What could the legatus possibly hope to gain by acting alone? ??? (Nero tol Scaeva): I sense you harbor certain doubts over the wisdom of the legatus's plan. Midlander Engineer (Codename Hummingway): M-My lord! Nero tol Scaeva: Please, call me Nero. Tell me, where were you born? Highlander Engineer: Othard, milord! Midlander Engineer (Codename Hummingway): Ala Mhigo, my lord! Nero tol Scaeva: Ah, Codename Hummingway, I presume? Midlander Engineer (Codename Hummingway): I-I don't know what you─ Nero tol Scaeva: Silence. Your denials will not change your fate. Nero tol Scaeva: I assure you─Frumentarium sees all. Midlander Engineer (Codename Hummingway): Argh... Nero tol Scaeva: Clean up this mess. And do not miss any, or I shall be most displeased. Highlander Engineer: A-At once, milord! Nero tol Scaeva: Garlond... Soon you will be made to know the true power of magitek.

Arrivals Attendant: Ah, you must be the envoy from Limsa Lominsa. Welcome to Gridania, madam. The Elder Seedseer awaits your arrival.

Leave the landing area?
Yes
No Arrivals Attendant: Please let me know if you require any assistance.

Serpent Honor Guard: Greetings, good madam. Serpent Honor Guard: You are the Lominsan envoy, are you not? I have received instructions to assist you. Serpent Honor Guard: Pray make your way into the city proper, and identify yourself to the conjurer at Nophica's Altar. She will admit you to the Lotus Stand, where the Elder Seedseer awaits.

Silent Conjurer: You are the Lominsan envoy? Begging your pardons, sir, but might I inspect the missive you bear?

Letter to the Elder A letter addressed to Gridanian Elder Seedseer Kan-E-Senna.

Silent Conjurer: Verily, this is the seal of the Admiral of Limsa Lominsa. Please come with me.

Kan-E-Senna: So you are the Lominsan envoy. Kan-E-Senna: And an adventurer besides. The realm owes much to you and yours. Kan-E-Senna: On behalf of our fair nation, I bid you welcome. Kan-E-Senna: Please. Kan-E-Senna: Allow me to introduce myself. Kan-E-Senna: I am Kan-E-Senna, Elder Seedseer of Gridania, and leader of the Order of the Twin Adder, our nation's Grand Company. Kan-E-Senna: I understand you bear a message from the Admiral. Kan-E-Senna: A remembrance service for the fallen of Carteneau... Kan-E-Senna: To think that five years have already come and gone... Kan-E-Senna: It seems like only yesterday that the Garlean Empire attempted to seize all that we hold dear. Kan-E-Senna: Rising in resistance, the city-states of Eorzea formed the Grand Companies, and joined hands in alliance. Kan-E-Senna: But unbeknown to us, the Garleans sought not to best us in battle, but moved instead to enact a terrible plot: the Meteor project, by which the lesser moon, Dalamud, would be torn down from the heavens to annihilate all life below. Kan-E-Senna: In a desperate bid to save the realm from certain destruction, our forces marched for the Carteneau Flats, and there met the VIIth Imperial Legion. Kan-E-Senna: More bloody a battle I have never seen, and would never wish to see again. Yet the carnage was but a prelude to the atrocity which followed. Kan-E-Senna: For despite our best efforts, Dalamud continued its descent, and from it emerged the elder primal Bahamut, who proceeded to rain fire upon Eorzea. Kan-E-Senna: The VIIth Imperial Legion was consumed in the blinking of an eye, while our own forces fared little better... Kan-E-Senna: That any among us were spared defies explanation. All seemed sure to perish. Kan-E-Senna: As the flames converged upon us, I prepared myself for death...only for a brilliant light to envelop me, relieving me of my senses. Kan-E-Senna: When at last I awoke, Bahamut was gone, and the land, which had but moments before been aflame, now seemed to me a place unknown─not simply ruined...but changed. Kan-E-Senna: Archon Louisoix may well have been able to shed light upon these mysteries, but he, like so many, never returned from Carteneau. Kan-E-Senna: And so we were left with countless questions, and no prospect of an answer. Yet such matters did not long occupy our thoughts, for we had far graver concerns. Kan-E-Senna: The Calamity, as the devastation wrought by Bahamut has come to be known, laid our nations nigh to waste, and to this day we struggle to rebuild our lives and homes. Kan-E-Senna: To compound matters, the beast tribes continue to summon their primals, while the Empire encroaches upon our borders, consolidating its foothold in Eorzea. The outlook, in short, is bleak. Kan-E-Senna: In the wake of the Calamity, it has been all each nation could do to nurse its own wounds. Kan-E-Senna: Yet if we are to weather the coming storm, we must needs stand united once more. A remembrance service may well present an opportunity to rekindle the spirit of unity which first gave rise to the Alliance. Kan-E-Senna: I wholeheartedly approve of the Admiral's proposal. The necessary provisions shall be made for a service here in Gridania. Kan-E-Senna: You have done the people of Eorzea a fine service this day, and I would not put you to further trouble. I shall see that my reply reaches the Admiral anon. Kan-E-Senna: You, meanwhile, are bound next for Ul'dah, are you not? Kan-E-Senna: Please send the Flame General my regards. Ah, and if you would be so kind, I should appreciate it if you would inform him that a pet of mine has been ill behaved of late─my wolf, to be precise. Needless to say, he must be brought to heel, and I would very much welcome the General's counsel on how this might be achieved. Kan-E-Senna: I thank you for coming. May the Twelve see you safe to Ul'dah and beyond.

Lionnellais: Greetings, good madam. This is the counter for passengers traveling to Ul'dah. Lionnellais: Oh, are you not Forename Surname, the Lominsan envoy? On behalf of all at Highwind Skyways, may I say what an honor it is to serve you! Will you be flying with us today?

Proceed to the landing area?
Yes
No Lionnellais: Very well. When you are ready to board, please let me know.

Arrivals Attendant: Ah, you must be the envoy from Limsa Lominsa! Welcome to Ul'dah, madam. The Flame General awaits your arrival.

Leave the landing area?
Yes
No Arrivals Attendant: Please let me know if you require any assistance.

Flame Honor Guard: Welcome to Ul'dah, madam. We have been expecting you. Flame Honor Guard: Flame General Raubahn will receive you in the Fragrant Chamber. Please take the lift down to the Hustings Strip and speak with Bartholomew at the Royal Promenade.

Bartholomew: The Lominsan envoy, I presume? Would you be so good as to allow me to inspect the missive you bear, madam? My thanks.

Letter to the General A letter addressed to Ul'dahn Flame General Raubahn Aldynn.

Bartholomew: Ah yes, the Admiral's seal. Please proceed.

Raubahn: Ah, a guest from Limsa. I thought I smelled stale ale. Raubahn: I won't hold it against you. If you're half the warrior Merlwyb says, 'tis a wonder you don't reek of dead Sahagin. Raubahn: Welcome to the sultanate of Ul'dah. I am Raubahn Aldynn, General of the Immortal Flames. Raubahn: But you did not come all this way to trade formalities. Raubahn: ...Carteneau. Aye, I remember bloody Carteneau. Raubahn: Do you know what happened that day, adventurer? When we took the field against the Garleans? Raubahn: So my counterparts have educated you. Raubahn: Hm? Kan-E's pet is giving her trouble, is it? Well, she should already know my mind on that subject. Raubahn: Wolves are beyond taming. 'Tis but a matter of time before they bare their teeth. Raubahn: So it was with the Garleans, fifty years ago. Raubahn: No sooner had they learned how to use magitek than they began seizing territory from their neighbors. Raubahn: Led by then legatus Solus zos Galvus, they swiftly brought the other nations of Ilsabard to heel. And so the legatus became an emperor, and his republic an empire... Raubahn: An empire which then set its sights upon Eorzea. Eline Roaille: But the conquering emperor is now an old man of four score winters. His health is failing, and he has no clear successor. Like as not, this is why the Garleans have been quiet of late. Raubahn: But the XIVth Imperial Legion is still entrenched within our borders. Raubahn: And their commander, Legatus Gaius van Baelsar, has long harbored ambitions of conquest. Raubahn: Were he to strike now, I fear we would fall like so many others before us. And not only Ul'dah, but Gridania and Limsa Lominsa as well. Raubahn: For the Calamity brought the lot of us to our knees, and we've yet to get up. We barely have the strength to stand against the beast tribes, never mind the primals they mean to summon. Raubahn: We are a realm divided, adventurer. An alliance in name only. Raubahn: But the wolf cares not for the plight of its prey. Raubahn: The Garleans stir, and the Elder Seedseer would not let it go unnoticed. Raubahn: All other concerns pale in comparison to the Empire─even the beast tribes and their bloody primals. Raubahn: We must stand united once more, that much is clear. And if we're to do so, we must remember the cause which last brought us together. Merlwyb will have her memorial. Raubahn: We will honor the memory of the fallen. We will remind the people what their brothers and sisters fought and died for. Eline Roaille: Shall I inform the sultana and the Syndicate? Raubahn: I will speak with Her Grace myself. Eline Roaille: Very good, sir. Raubahn: The Admiral will have my reply anon. Raubahn: My thanks to you, adventurer.

Call of the Sea Bartholomew has information that may be of interest to you.

Bartholomew: Ah, my lady envoy. I trust your stay in the sultanate has been pleasant. Now, if you do not mind my asking, do you perchance have plans to visit Limsa Lominsa in the near future? If so, I have information that may be of interest to you. Bartholomew: I once accompanied the Flame General on an official visit to the seaside city-state, during which time I became acquainted with Baderon, the proprietor of the Drowning Wench. Well, the man sent word just now that he has a job for a capable adventurer. Bartholomew: I can think of none with better credentials than you. Baderon would doubtless be pleased were you to offer him your services.

Baderon: Welcome to the Drownin' Wench! Sit wherever ye like, lass. I'll be with ye in a─ Baderon: Well, well, if it ain't the one an' only Forename Surname! Baderon: I was told a distinguished 'venturer might be reportin' fer duty. Fancy that 'venturer bein' you, eh!? Baderon: Just so yer fairly warned, though, this ain't no job fer the faint of 'eart. Things're liable to get downright bleedin' 'airy. But if ye think yer still interested, let me know, an' I'll fill ye in on the details.

A Realm Reborn (2.0) (Gridania Starter Quests)

??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... ??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... Feel... ??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... Feel... Think...

??? (Bremondt): ...Oi! ??? (Bremondt): Y'all right, lass? Grizzled Passenger (Bremondt): You were moanin' in your sleep an' sweatin' buckets besides. Grizzled Passenger (Bremondt): That'll be the aether, I reckon. Some are more prone to the sickness than others. Grizzled Passenger (Bremondt): No need to fret, though. You'll soon get used to it. Furry Creature (Kuplo Kopp): Feeling better, kupo? Furry Creature (Kuplo Kopp): Aha! You can see us! I had a feeling you could, kupo! Moogle (Kuplo Kopp): We're moogles, and we live in this wood. Moogle (Kuplo Kopp): Normal folks can't see or hear us─which makes you special, kupo! Moogle (Kuplo Kopp): And seeing as how you're special, maybe you can tell us something. Moogle (Kuplo Kopp): The wood's been restless of late─lots of strange things happening. Have you chanced to witness anything suspicious, kupo? Moogle (Kuplo Kopp): But of course you haven't─you've only just arrived. Moogle (Kuplo Kopp): Well, there's nothing for it, then─we'll just have to keep looking. Nice to meet you, kupo! Grizzled Passenger (Bremondt): Gridania's still a fair way off, in case you were wonderin'. Seein' as you're awake, how's about you keep me company till we get there? Grizzled Passenger (Bremondt): Them young'uns don't much care for conversation, see. Bremondt: Bremondt's the name, an' peddlin's me trade. Bremondt: As for your good self, judgin' by your unusual garments, I'd say you were one of them new adventurers. Am I warm? Bremondt: I knew it! Goin' wherever the wind blows, seekin' fortune an' glory--now that's what I call livin'! Bremondt: So long as you can avoid dyin' I mean. Ain't no secret that adventurin's a risky business─these days especially. Bremondt: What was it that first attracted you to it?

Why did you become an adventurer?
To gain power. Bremondt: ...Power? As in, er...power to do good? Like protectin' the weak, an' fightin' for what's right, an' all that? Aye, I thought that's what you meant. Well, adventurers do get up to a lot of fightin', that's for sure. You'll never be short of a chance to polish your warcraft in the adventurin' business. Bremondt: When you arrive in town, you'd best enroll at the Adventurers' Guild─they'll set you on the right path. Bremondt: An' it wouldn't hurt to join a guild, neither. Bremondt: Gridania's home to a few, so if you fancy learnin' how to fight with a bow, a polearm, or even spells, you should think about seekin' one out.
To win glory. Bremondt: Glory, eh? Well, if you're willin' to take on them tasks as other folk ain't, an adventurer such as yourself can win fame what coin can't buy. Bremondt: When you arrive in town, you'll want to report to the Adventurers' Guild. Bremondt: You can find out everythin' you need to know about the adventurin' business in there.
To amass a fortune. Bremondt: Fortune, eh? Well, it's a dream we've all had at one time or another. Bremondt: Once you've learned to handle yourself in a fight, you'll want to pay a visit to whichever craftin' or gatherin' guild tickles your fancy. Bremondt: Gridania's renowned for its leatherworkers an' carpenters, not to mention its botanists. Bremondt: Adventurin' ain't just about killin' things, after all. A peaceful pastime may well help you make your fortune!
... Bremondt: Well, if you ain't inclined to tell, I ain't about to pry. Might be as ol' Bremondt's a chatterbox, but he sure as hells ain't no busybody. Bremondt: We all have a secret or three, don't we? Me? Dozens. Bremondt: An' I'd rather they stayed secret, too—which is why I don't go stickin' me nose where it ain't welcome.

Bremondt: Just remember, though: there're more important things than fortune an' glory. Such as breathin'. Ain't no profit in bein' dead, an' that's a fact. Wood Wailer: Halt! Go no further! Bremondt: What's this, then? Bremondt: Uwaaah! Carriage Driver: Wh-What's going on? Wood Wailer: A skirmish has broken out up ahead with the Ixal! For your own safety, you must remain here until─ Wood Wailer: Bloody hells! We shall hold them here! Try to break clear!

Bremondt: That was too bleedin' close... Bremondt: Nice of the Ixal to send us a welcomin' party though, eh? Bremondt: Jokin' aside, this won't be the last time you meet those feathered fiends, so just you take care, all right? Bremondt: By the by, is this your first trip to Gridania?

Is this your first trip to Gridania?
Yes. Bremondt: It is!? Well then, let this journeyed itinerant tell you the ins an' outs of your destination.
No. Bremondt: Thought not! Ah, but I'll wager there've been some changes since your last visit. Allow a journeyed itinerant to apprise you of the current state of affairs. Ahem!

Bremondt: The city of Gridania lies slap-bang in the middle of the Black Shroud─the biggest, lushest forest in all Eorzea. Bremondt: Though it ain't near as lush as it used to be, sayin' that. Not since the Calamity laid half of it to waste. Bremondt: The destruction prompted a herd of new nasties to move in, an' gave the Ixal unneeded encouragement. Birdman raids've become a daily occurence. Bremondt: Ah, at long last. Bremondt: Behold Gridania, the forest nation blessed by the elementals!

Louisoix: The Black Shroud--the ancient forest close to the heart of Eorzea. Louisoix: Beneath the boughts of its towering rrees lies the woodland city-state of Gridania. Louisoix: Once a sancutary from the world beyond the Hedge, even the mighty elementals, eternal guardians of the forest, could not forestall the coming of the Seventh Umbral Era. Louisoix: However, the goddess Nophica was never one to foresake Her children, and today She welcomes another brave soul... one who may yet play a telling role in the tale of this great realm. Bremondt: An' here's where we part ways, lass. Bremondt: I'm off to the markets to deliver me wares, then it's back to the highroad for me. Bremondt: Here, I want you to have this─by way of thanks for keepin' me company. Bremondt: Hey─you never did tell me your name, did you? Well, here's an idea... Bremondt: Become the sort of storied personage I can brag about havin' met, an' I'll consider us square. Louisoix: May the Matron take her to her Bosom, that she may never want. Louisoix: And in her heart sow serenity, purity, and sanctity. Final Fantasy XIV

??? (Bertennant): You there! Yes, you! Wood Wailer (Bertennant): Your face is not known to me. Newly come to the city, no doubt. Bertennant: I am Bertennant, a Wood Wailer of Gridania. Bertennant: It is my duty to protect our nation from her enemies while welcoming those who may yet prove her friends. Let us see which you are.

Coming to Gridania To be recognized as an adventurer in the city-state of Gridania, you must first register yourself with the Adventurers' Guild.

Bertennant: Anotheer green adventurer, I presume? Bertennant: I thought as much. We cannot allow strangers to wander Gridania unchecked and untested. Bertennant: Before you rush off and begin pestering every second citizen for work, I suggest you make yourself known at the Carline Canopy. That's the headquarters of the local Adventurers' Guild, in case you were wondering. Bertennant: The Carline Canopy is the building you see behind me. Speak to Mother Miounne within, and she will take you in hand.

Mother Miounne: Well, well, what have we here? Mother Miounne: A wide-eyed and wondering young adventurer, come to put your name down at the guild, I assume? Mother Miounne: Welcome. Miounne's my name, or Mother Miounne as most call me, and the Carline Canopy is my place. Mother Miounne: As the head of the Adventurers' Guild in Gridania, I have the honor of providing guidance to the fledgling heroes who pass through our gates. Mother Miounne: No matter your ambitions, the guild is here to help you attain them. Mother Miounne: In return, we expect you to fulfill your duties as an adventurer by assisting the people of Gridania. A fine deal, wouldn't you agree? Mother Miounne: To an outsider's eyes, all may seem well with our nation, but naught could be further from the truth. The people live in a state of constant apprehension. Mother Miounne: The Ixal and various gangs of common bandits provide an unending supply of trouble─trouble compounded by the ever-present threat of the Garlean Empire to the north. And that is to say nothing of the Calamity... Mother Miounne: Even now, the wounds have barely begun to heal. Ah, but I speak of it as if you were there. Forgive me. Five years past, Eorzea was well-nigh laid to waste when a dread wyrm emerged from within the lesser moon, Dalamud, and rained fire upon the realm. It is this which people call “the Calamity.” Mother Miounne: Scarcely a square malm of the Twelveswood was spared the devastation. Yet despite the forest's extensive wounds, not a soul among us can recall precisely how it all happened. Mother Miounne: I am well aware of how improbable that must sound to an outsider... It is improbable. But it's also true. For reasons we can ill explain, the facts surrounding the Calamity are shrouded in mystery. There are as many versions of events as there are people willing to recount them. Mother Miounne: Yet amidst the hazy recollections and conflicting accounts, all agree on one thing: that Eorzea was saved from certain doom by a band of valiant adventurers. Mother Miounne: Whatever else we've misremembered, none of us have forgotten the heroes who risked life and limb for the sake of the realm. And yet...whenever we try to say their names, the words die upon our lips. Mother Miounne: And whenever we try to call their faces to mind, we see naught but silhouettes amidst a blinding glare. Mother Miounne: Thus have these adventurers come to be known as “the Warriors of Light.” Mother Miounne: ...Ahem. Pray do not feel daunted by the deeds of legends. We do not ask that you become another Warrior of Light, only that you do what you can to assist the people of Gridania. Mother Miounne: Great or small, every contribution counts. I trust you will play your part. Mother Miounne: All that's left, then, is to conclude the business of registration. Here's a quill. Scrawl your name right there. Mother Miounne: Oh, and I would appreciate it if you used your real name─there is a special place in the seventh hell for those who use “amusing” aliases. Mother Miounne: ...Forename Surname, hm? And you're quite sure that isn't an amusing alias? Mother Miounne: Very well. From this moment forward, you are a registered adventurer of Gridania, nation blessed of the elementals and the bounty of the Twelveswood. The guild expects great things from you. Wood Wailer: Look at what just arrived─another godsdamned adventurer... Mother Miounne: Don't you start with that. Adventurers are the very salve that Gridania needs. Mother Miounne: The Elder Seedseer herself bade us welcome them with open arms. Do you mean to disregard her will? Wood Wailer: Of course not! Lest you forget, it is my sworn duty to uphold the peace! Am I to blame if outsiders bring mistrust upon themselves? Wood Wailer: You─adventurer! Mind that you do not cause any trouble here, or I shall personally cast you out of this realm and into the seventh hell. Mother Miounne: Ahem. Pay that outburst no mind. He meant only to...counsel you. Suspicious characters have been prowling the Twelveswood of late, you see, and the Wood Wailers feel they cannot afford to take any chances. Mother Miounne: As is often the way with folk who live in isolation, Gridanians are wont to mistrust things they do not well know, your good self included. Fear not, however─given a catalog of exemplary deeds, and no more than a handful of years, the locals will surely warm to you. Mother Miounne: On behalf of my fellow citizens, I welcome you to Gridania. May you come to consider our nation as your own in time. Mother Miounne: Now then, you may depend on old Mother Miounne to teach you a few things that every adventurer should know.

Close to Home Miounne, proprietress of the Carline Canopy, wants you to perform three tasks that will help you learn the fundamentals of adventuring.

Mother Miounne: Let us begin at the beginning, shall we? Now that you are a formal member of the Adventurers' Guild, we must be sure you have a firm grasp of the fundamentals of adventuring. To that end, I have three tasks I wish you to perform. Mother Miounne: Your first task is to visit the aetheryte. This massive crystal stands in the middle of the aetheryte plaza, not far from the Carline Canopy. Mother Miounne: As a device that enables instantaneous transportation, the aetheryte plays a key role in the life of the ever-wandering adventurer. Mother Miounne: Once you have located the crystal, all you need do is touch its surface. A member of the Wood Wailers will be present to offer further instruction. Mother Miounne: For your second task, you are to visit the Archers' Guild. Mother Miounne: There is no better place to learn the arts of the bow. Speak with Athelyna, and she will explain the benefits of joining the guild. Mother Miounne: For your third and final task, I would have you visit the markets at the heart of Old Gridania's commercial district. There you shall find weapons and armor, and all the various items that an adventurer might need on her travels. Mother Miounne: There is, however, more to the markets than buying and selling goods. Speak with Parsemontret, and listen well to his counsel. Mother Miounne: The master merchant can be...uncooperative at times, so be sure to offer him one of my famous eel pies. Like so many men, he is much more charitable when his stomach is full. Here, I made a batch not long ago. Mother Miounne: You have your tasks, Forename. May Nophica guide your path. Mother Miounne: Ah, and one more thing: should you happen to come across any citizens in need, don't be afraid to proffer a helping hand. I am certain they will be pleased to meet an adventurer in whom they can confide their woes. Mother Miounne: Granted, the work they offer is unlikely to be of realm-shattering importance─but prove your worth and build a reputation, and in time folk will be more inclined to entrust you with matters of moment. Mother Miounne: I also suggest that you lend an ear to the Smith here in the Canopy. The Smiths are trusted representatives of the Adventurers' Guild, and are an invaluable source of advice for neophyte heroes seeking to attain greatness.

Nicia: Greetings, adventurer. I see you are faithfully following Mother Miounne's instructions. Nicia: Allow me to offer you a bit of instruction myself. I am Nicia of the Wood Wailers, and I know a thing or two about the aetheryte─yes, that big crystal right there. Nicia: Aetherytes are devices that tap into aetherial energies, and are primarily used as a means to travel swiftly from one place to another. Nicia: Return and Teleport─the most common transportation spells─make direct use of the aetherytes and their connection to the flow of aether. Nicia: And as these devices are found in almost every corner of Eorzea, any adventurer worthy of the name will wish to seek out and attune herself to each one. Nicia: Truly, few things in this world are so useful to an intrepid explorer. Nicia: But you need not locate them all at once. Before rushing out into the wilds, I suggest you start with the aetherytes found here in Gridania. Nicia: Should you wish to learn more about the aetheryte or transportation magic, I am here to answer your questions.

Athelyna: Greetings, friend. You have found your way to the Archers' Guild. Do you seek to uncover the secrets of our art? Athelyna: Ah, now that I think on it, you have the look of one who has received Mother Miounne's “gentle” instruction. Very well, I shall give you a brief introduction to archery and the Archers' Guild. Athelyna: The skills practiced by our archers allow them to gauge an enemy's weaknesses from afar, and turn the tide of a battle with a single, well-placed arrow. Should you join us, you will be taught to do the same. Athelyna: Archery as practiced in Gridania was born of two distinct styles of bowmanship. Athelyna: The first was devised by the longbow sentries of the Elezen who once ruled the lowlands, while the second belonged to the shortbow hunters of the formerly nomadic Miqo'te. As you will doubtless be aware, both races ultimately came to call the Twelveswood home. Athelyna: Though the two peoples began as rivals, they gradually learned to live together in harmony. During this time, they learned from one another, their two schools of archery intermingling to give birth to the art as it is known today. Athelyna: For a time, the bow was used primarily for hunting. But as the hunters vied with one another to prove who was the better shot, there emerged a group of archers whose ultimate goal lay not in the practical pursuit of prey, but in perfection. Athelyna: Thus was the Archers' Guild born from the ranks of the Trappers' League. Athelyna: It is the way of the guild to promote greatness in archery through friendly competition. And the results of our methods can be seen in the vaunted archers of the Gods' Quiver, many of whom spent their formative years loosing arrows at the guild's practice butts. Athelyna: I hope this gives you a better idea of who we are, and what we do here. Oho, did I see the spark of ambition flare within your eyes? Athelyna: If you wish to draw a string with the finest archers in Eorzea, look no further than the Archers' Guild. Athelyna: Before you can enlist, however, you must gain the approval of the guildmaster. Once you are ready to proceed, speak with me again and we can begin seeing about your enrollment.

Parsemontret: By what right does a fledgling adventurer presume to address Parsemontret, master of the markets? Parsemontret: You think you can stroll in here, bold as you please, and demand my hard-earned knowledge? Hah! A merchant does naught for naught, especially when dealing with would-be heroes. Parsemontret: If, on the other hand, you had some tasty “morsel” to curry my favor, then I might reconsider your request. Parsemontret: Come now, this whole encounter reeks of Miounne's handiwork─and more specifically her baking. Don't look so surprised, lass─I smelled that eel pie of yours a malm away. Hand it over!

Handmade Eel Pie Mother Miounne's realm-famous eel pie. Served only in her fine establishment, the Carline Canopy.

Parsemontret: Mmm, that flaky crust...just divine. Very well, I am a man of my word. Pay close attention, for I shall only explain this once. Parsemontret: The aspiring adventurer need look no further than the Rosewood and Ebony Stalls. Both are but a short stroll from where we stand. Parsemontret: If you mean to do battle, you'd best be prepared with a quality set of weapons and armor. Parsemontret: Such goods are the province of the Rosewood Stalls, directly south of here. You will be pleased to learn that the merchants of Gridania are exceedingly particular when it comes to craftsmanship, so you needn't fear defective straps and the like. Parsemontret: If it is potions and paraphernalia you seek, head north to the Ebony Stalls. Parsemontret: The shelves there are lavishly stocked by widely traveled Ul'dahn merchants, and I may truly say that I have seen things amongst their myriad wares that I scarce knew existed. Parsemontret: Do you follow me thus far? The first step in any purchase is to select the stalls that meet your needs. Then you may concern yourself with price and profit. Parsemontret: There is little more I can teach you with mere words. Go, peruse the stalls, and see for yourself what wares they offer. There is no substitute for firsthand experience, after all, and I am weary of talking...unless you have another eel pie?

Mother Miounne: The conquering hero returns. You have completed my little tasks, I trust? Mother Miounne: The three locations you visited will feature prominently in your life as an adventurer─it is best you grow familiar with them as soon as possible. Mother Miounne: And you took the time to listen to the woes of the citizenry? I cannot emphasize enough how important it is to lend your talents to one and all, no matter how trivial the matter may seem. Mother Miounne: I am thankful that you are an obliging sort, Sukiko. It is adventurers like you who will win the hearts of the locals and pave the way for those who follow. I pray Gridania can rely on your aid in its struggles to come.

To the Bannock Miounne wishes to send an adventurer to the instructor at the Bannock.

Mother Miounne: Forename, have you visited the Bannock on your wanderings? Mother Miounne: It is a training ground found just outside the city where the soldiers of the Order of the Twin Adder are drilled in swordplay and other martial matters. Mother Miounne: I mention this because an acquaintance of mine─a gentleman by the name of Galfrid─is an instructor there, and I think you may be of use to him. Go and introduce yourself, and find out if there is anything you can do to help. Mother Miounne: Mind you do not stray far from the path─the Twelveswood is no place for merry strolls through the underbrush.

Galfrid: Greetings, Forename Surname. Miounne sent word to expect you. Galfrid: My name is Galfrid, and I am responsible for training our Twin Adder recruits. Galfrid: I thank you for volunteering your assistance. The Twelveswood is much changed since the calamitous arrival of the Seventh Umbral Era five years ago. Galfrid: The power of the elementals wanes, and the harmony of the forest gives way to chaos. A great abundance of life has been lost as the strong run rampant, stifling the weak and new-sprung. Galfrid: Though it may not appear so to the eyes of an outsider, the Twelveswood is ailing─its once rich variety a fading memory. Galfrid: For the citizens of Gridania, the restoration of the forest is a sacred duty. And it is my hope that adventurers such as you will offer to aid them in their struggle. Galfrid: Listen to their requests, and do all that you can. May the elementals bless your endeavors, Forename Surname.

Passing Muster Galfrid, chief instructor at the Bannock, wishes to inspect your equipment and thereby gauge your readiness for future missions.

Galfrid: I see you are eager to lend a hand, Forename. That is well. But I cannot in good conscience send you into the forest until I have established that your equipment is equal to the task. Galfrid: It bears repeating that, in the five years since the dawn of the Seventh Umbral Era, many of the Twelveswood's creatures have transformed into vicious, bloodthirsty monsters. Venturing into the forest without the proper gear is tantamount to suicide. Galfrid: I suggest you take some time to evaluate your equipment. Once you deem your armor to be of sufficient quality, present yourself to me for inspection.

Galfrid: Ready for inspection are we? Right, then! Eyes forward! Back straight! Galfrid: Hmmm... Yes, I think you pass muster. Galfrid: You would be surprised at how many young, promising soldiers get themselves killed by rushing off into the woods without first donning a decent set of armor. Galfrid: Your equipment, however, should provide the required degree of protection. Consider yourself ready for duty, Forename.

Chasing Shadows Galfrid needs an adventurer to investigate suspicious activity in the Twelveswood.

Galfrid: Ah, Forename. By your tireless efforts, you have proven yourself a friend to Gridania. I believe you can be trusted with sensitive intelligence. Galfrid: I would assign you a mission of considerable import, yet the need for secrecy prevents me from disclosing its details until you have pledged your participation. I am authorized to tell you only that it concerns suspicious activity in the Twelveswood. Say that you will lend us your aid, and I shall proceed with the briefing. Galfrid: Good. Time is of the essence, so listen well. Galfrid: You will by now have heard that a suspicious individual has been seen prowling the Twelveswood. Galfrid: And you may also be aware that Ixali activity has risen sharply in the region of late. What you may not know is that this increase coincided almost exactly with the first recorded sighting of the aforementioned individual. Galfrid: Suspecting a connection, we tightened our surveillance in hopes of tracking down our unknown visitor. Alas, our quarry is proving to be exceedingly elusive─almost as if he knows our movements ahead of time. Galfrid: But where whole units have failed, a lone adventurer may yet succeed. Acting independently and covertly, you may be able to close in on our quarry unnoticed. Galfrid: Fear and anxiety are beginning to take their toll upon the citizenry, Forename. For their sake, I ask that you aid us in this investigation. Galfrid: You have my gratitude. With your help, I am hopeful we will shed light upon this mystery. Galfrid: Begin your search at Lifemend Stump. It is there that the majority of the sightings took place. Galfrid: Be forewarned: my people cannot offer you support, lest our quarry catch scent of our presence and evade us yet again. Proceed with caution.

??? (Lyse): Look! Someone's already here! Animated Pugilist (Lyse): Oh dear. Is that a sword in the stump? Bad idea. Really bad idea... Animated Pugilist (Lyse): It takes a lot less than that to incite the Greenwrath, you know. Why, the first time I came to the Twelveswood, we almost ended up as a treant's dinner, just for crashing our airship in the wrong place. It was all Papalymo's fault, of course. Though, he'd sooner— Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Is this our dark stranger? Moogle (Kuplo Kopp): No, no, not this one. Not even close, kupo! Animated Pugilist (Lyse): Hm? You know her, Kuplo Kopp? Kuplo Kopp: Well, not exactly, but we did once share a carriage. Isn't that right? Animated Pugilist (Lyse): How are the readings? Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Same as the last. There is a disturbance here as well, and newly manifested at that. Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Kuplo Kopp seems convinced of your innocence. But if this isn't your doing, whose is it? Animated Pugilist (Lyse): Ever since the Calamity, the forest's been really sensitive. Animated Pugilist (Lyse): The slightest disruption to the aetheric flow... Animated Pugilist (Lyse): And this sort of thing happens! Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): It seems we have little choice...

Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Do you want to get eaten!? Hit them harder! Animated Pugilist (Lyse): I'm trying, I'm trying! Animated Pugilist (Lyse): There's more! Be careful! Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): If you value your life, stay close! Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Well done! We're almost there!

Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): You fainted. A surfeit of aether, no doubt. Animated Pugilist (Lyse): Hm? And what have we here? Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Our culprit, it would seem. An Ixal. And no ordinary Ixal, either─a chieftain. Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): That they would venture this deep into enemy territory... The beastmen may indeed be acting under orders. Short-tempered Thaumaturge: This is Papalymo. We found the culprit. It was an Ixali chieftain. Yes, we'll seek Brother E-Sumi-Yan's cooperation in the matter. Yda? Oh, loud, tactless, much the same as always. Animated Pugilist (Lyse): How are we feeling, then? Better? Good! Animated Pugilist (Lyse): Giant crystals? Can't say I've seen any... Are you sure you're feeling better? Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): ...Understood. Over and out. Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Kuplo Kopp. Please bear word of these developments to Brother E-Sumi-Yan. We shall soon return to give a full report. Kuplo Kopp: Understood! Over and out, kupo! Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Here is where we part ways. Till next time, take care! Animated Pugilist (Lyse): I think that sword might be a clue! You should definitely pull it out and take it back to the Bannock! Animated Pugilist (Lyse): You don't suppose that adventurer could see Kuplo Kopp, do you!? Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): And this occurs to you NOW!? Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Yes. It seemed that way. Time will tell... Animated Pugilist (Lyse): Well, time will have to, because you won't! You never tell me what's really going on! Unless...you don't know what's going on either! Short-tempered Thaumaturge (Papalymo): Bah! You'd like that, wouldn't you!?

Galfrid: Forename! It is good to see you back! Galfrid: One of our patrols sent word that you had been spotted doing battle with enraged treants. I am relieved to find you none the worse for the experience. Galfrid: But tell me, what were you able to discover at Lifemend Stump?

Magicked Blade An ornately decorated sword found thrust into Lifemend Stump.

Galfrid: A sword in the stump, and a dead Ixal? Hmmm... Galfrid: I can say with absolute certainty that this blade is of Ixali origin. It is of a kind used exclusively in the beastmen's rituals. Galfrid: The Ixal rarely set foot in the Central Shroud, so tight is our guard over the area. What purpose could have driven them to take such a risk? I fear something is afoot... Galfrid: What's that? A dubious couple sporting peculiar spectacles? Hah hah hah! Galfrid: So you have finally been acquainted with Yda and Papalymo! Lay your suspicions to rest─Gridania counts them among her staunchest allies. Both are scholars hailing from a distant land, and have been with us since before the Calamity. Galfrid: Their garb may appear outlandish, and their exchanges baffling, but never once have they given us cause to doubt them. Galfrid: Indeed, they often assist the Gods' Quiver and the Wood Wailers in their work─much as I hope you will in the days to come, Forename. Galfrid: Although our unknown visitor eludes us still, owing to your efforts, we have acquired important intelligence on the Ixali threat. You have my gratitude. Galfrid: We are fortunate indeed to have a capable adventurer such as you aiding us. I pray you will continue to serve the people of Gridania in whatever capacity you are able.

Eggs Over Queasy Galfrid, chief instructor at the Bannock, wishes you to collect chigoe egg sacs.

Galfrid: Forename, injuries to several of my men have left me shorthanded, and I require a capable sort to complete their unfinished duty. Galfrid: The task is simple: put down as many of the local chigoe population as necessary to acquire three of their egg sacs. Galfrid: Having done so, you are to deliver them to Monranguin at Gilbert's Spire. He will answer any queries you might have. Now, I have other business to attend to.

Monranguin: Ah, you must be the adventurer standing in for our injured companions. Terribly unfortunate business, that.

Chigoe Egg Sac This translucent sac appears to be filled with thousands of tiny pearl-shaped eggs.

Monranguin: It seems, however, that you had little trouble gathering the egg sacs in their stead. Excellent work. I shall have them sent over to the Trappers' League immediately. Monranguin: Lest you wonder, these egg sacs are not destined for the dinner table! Members of the Twin Adder and the Wood Wailers are assisting the League by collecting the samples they need to check for signs of sickness. Monranguin: The chigoe, you see, is one of the few creatures capable of transmitting the disease known as the Creeping Death. Until relatively recently, any Hyur who contracted this ghastly illness would almost invariably perish. Monranguin: Indeed, a single outbreak once claimed the lives of a third of the Hyuran population here in Gridania. That was a long time ago, of course. With the medicines available to us now, the Creeping Death is not the killer it once was. Monranguin: Even so, it is best to halt any new outbreaks before they occur. Thus we gather chigoe eggs on a regular basis in order to assist the Trappers' League with their ongoing research. Your timely assistance is most appreciated.

Surveying the Damage A guard at Gilbert's Spire named Monranguin needs you to recover the surveying equipment left behind in a cave by a startled recruit.

Monranguin: Such an embarrassing turn of events... I sent a recruit from the Bannock on a surveying expedition only for the craven to turn tail and flee at the first sign of trouble. Monranguin: This is not how we treat requests from the conjurers! And as if such a poor showing weren't bad enough, the lily-livered half-wit left behind the surveying equipment provided by Hearer Pauline herself! Monranguin: While I attempt to instill some backbone into this so-called “soldier,” would you mind recovering the survey gear and returning it to Hearer Pauline at Gabineaux's Bower? Monranguin: According to my recruit's tale of woe, there should be a set of survey records, a surveyor's rope, and two boxes of surveyor's instruments strewn about the interior of a cave to the south of here. <sigh> It's a wonder the damn fool didn't lose his boots... Ahem. Matron watch over you.

Pauline: Yes, may I assist you with some matter?

Survey Records A sprawling list of numbers which appear to be coordinates of some sort.

Surveyor's Instruments A wooden box containing various tools used by surveyors, including an alidade, a plumb, and a block of marking wax.

Surveyor's Rope A thin rope used by surveyors to measure distance.

Pauline: Oh? But this is the equipment I left with the soldiers of the Bannock... Pauline: Fled at the first sign of danger, you say? I see... Well, all is not lost: it appears the recruit managed to complete the surveying assignment. The records are actually quite detailed. Pauline: With the changes wrought by the Calamity, I thought it wise to send the Order of the Twin Adder on a number of expeditions to map the region's topography. As fortune would have it, the officers saw these tasks as an excellent opportunity to train inexperienced soldiers. Pauline: We can no longer rely on our past knowledge of the Twelveswood. If we are to survive these troubled times, we must reacquaint ourselves with our surroundings, that we may better discern the threats we face. Stay vigilant, adventurer.

A Soldier's Breakfast Pauline at Gabineaux's Bower needs an adventurer to cull the growing anole population, as well as gather one of the scalekin's eggs.

Pauline: I hesitate to make such a dangerous request, but might you assist us in thinning the number of anoles on Naked Rock? Pauline: In our efforts to commune with the elementals, we conjurers often find ourselves in the area. Of late, however, our meditations have all too frequently been interrupted by unprovoked anole attacks. Truly, the beasts grow more aggressive by the day. Pauline: Their numbers have continued to grow since the advent of the Seventh Umbral Era, you see, forcing packs of the scalekin to come down from the mountains in search of food. If you could slay a handful of the beasts, that should lessen their need to hunt and also serve as a warning to the anoles to remain within their territory. Pauline: But I am afraid you must do more than thin the existing population. If we are to truly break this spiraling growth, then we must also target their future offspring. Bring me one of their eggs, and you will have played your part in returning balance to this area of the forest.

Pauline: Ah, you have returned. Now might my brothers and sisters continue their meditations undisturbed. You have my thanks. Pauline: As for the egg, may I ask you to deliver it to Tsubh Khamazom at the Bannock? Pauline: Anole eggs are both large and filled with nutrients─the perfect meal for a soldier. She will be more than a little pleased to see you, I should imagine.

Tsubh Khamazom: Who goes there!? Oh, Forename, it's you. Hm? Another delivery?

Anole Egg This melon-sized egg of the violent scalekin known as the anole is still slightly warm.

Tsubh Khamazom: I'm not certain I should be the one to─ By Nophica, that's an anole egg! The troops will be glad indeed to see one of these at table! And you say Hearer Pauline sent you on this errand? Tsubh Khamazom: I hear the anoles are more numerous than ever, yet you appear to have managed the task with your skin intact. Your skill and bravery continue to amaze me, Forename.

Spirithold Broken Galfrid, chief instructor at the Bannock, would entrust you with the task of investigating Spirithold.

Galfrid: Forename! Thank the gods you've come! Galfrid: We have a potential crisis on our hands, and I would appreciate your assistance. Will you hear me out? Galfrid: Listen well, for we haven't much time. Galfrid: To the southeast of here lies a dungeon known as Spirithold. It was all but destroyed during the Calamity. Galfrid: Desiring to offer the ruins back to the forest, a Hearer ventured inside to carry out the Rite of Returning. Galfrid: Alas, it would seem something has gone awry. Word arrived just moments ago that the Hearer and his guards have been attacked by a towering shadow. Aye, you heard me true─a shadow. Galfrid: On any other day, I would dispatch my best Quivermen to provide support, but I sent them to repel an Ixali incursion in the West Shroud nary a bell ago. Galfrid: The timing of these events cannot be mere coincidence. I fear the Ixal somehow caught wind of our plans, and are attempting to disrupt the rite in an effort to weaken the bond between man and elemental. Galfrid: They must not be allowed to succeed. And so I bid you go to Spirithold and do whatever is necessary to resolve the situation. Please, say you will help us. Galfrid: I knew you would not let me down. You will have all the support I can muster. Galfrid: Now, we are racing against time, so you had best make haste.

Alestan: Who goes there? An adventurer, is it? Alestan: Here at Instructor Galfrid's request, you say? Thank the Matron! Alestan: Doubtless you already know this, but a towering shadow manifested without warning and attacked the Hearer in the midst of the rite. Alestan: Most of his party has been successfully evacuated, but five remain unaccounted for. Alestan: Please find them, and see them out of harm's way.

Worried Wood Wailer: <groan> A great shadow...towering over me... What in the Twelve's good grace? Worried Wood Wailer: A-An adventurer!? Please, you must save the Hearer!

Witless Wood Wailer: Galfrid...sent you? Witless Wood Wailer: I am no longer...of use here. Pray help the Hearer...in my stead.

Overwrought Wood Wailer: Away, vile fiend! Away, I say! I defy you! I defy yooouuu!!! ...Uh? ...Oh! An adventurer! Overwrought Wood Wailer: W-We were ambushed─ambushed in the midst of the ritual! And then... And then...I'm not sure what happened.

Cool-headed Conjurer: ...You were sent to help? I fear you are too late─the ritual has failed. Cool-headed Conjurer: I must needs return to Gridania. The Seedseers must know of this.

Confused Conjurer: That thing was no elemental, but a being born of darkness. Confused Conjurer: The Hearer languishes alone in the depths. You must help him!

Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): O mournful voice of creation! Grant ye this humble stone a soul, that it may wake to life!

??? (Black-masked Ascian): You are strong. But are you strong enough to withstand this? ??? (Black-masked Ascian): Impossible! Never has the golem been so sorely tested!

Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): That the golem could be vanquished... Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): That woman is no ordinary adventurer.

Papalymo: Damnation! He has eluded us yet again! Yda (Lyse): Oh, fancy meeting you here! How are things?

Papalymo: Hm? Whatever are you─ Yda (Lyse): Shhh! More birds! This makes it how many times today? Seven? Papalymo: Their movements are beyond our fathoming. Yda (Lyse): Hmmm. Do you think maybe...they're trying to summon their primal? Papalymo: I hope not, for all our sakes. Yet we must be prepared for the worst. Papalymo: Withered. The same fate has befallen Emerald Moss. Papalymo: It is as we feared: Dalamud's anomaly is affecting life in the Twelveswood. Yda (Lyse): You mean the disturbance in the aetheric flow? Papalymo: The very same. The Garleans have a lot to answer for. Papalymo: The imbalance they have created is plunging the land into chaos, just as Louisoix forewarned. Yda (Lyse): It's no wonder the primals have started appearing... Papalymo: Time is against us, but there is still hope for the land. Papalymo: We must hold fast to that hope and fight to the very last. Yda (Lyse): Agreed! Yda (Lyse): Waaah! Yda (Lyse): Ack! Stupid things... Papalymo: These stupid things happen to be the very latest in Sharlayan innovation! Show some respect! Yda (Lyse): But they're so uncomfortable and...and...ugly! Papalymo: If you ask me, they're an improvement over that mask of yours. Yda (Lyse): <sigh> Hard to believe it's already been five whole years, isn't it? Papalymo: Already? Five years is but a heartbeat in the life of the planet! Yda (Lyse): I suppose you're right... Now that I think about it, the Twelveswood's barely recovered at all, and the Gridanians still have the same old problems. Papalymo: Aye, along with some new ones. Just in case the Ixal and Garuda weren't troublesome enough, the sylphs had to go and invite Ramuh, didn't they? Yda (Lyse): ...Do you ever think about those adventurers who fought alongside us? I do. And then five years seems like ages... I wonder what became of them. Yda (Lyse): Ah... Papalymo: Yda, look. Yda (Lyse): Hm? Yda (Lyse): Golly! ...And this is what, exactly? Papalymo: Yet another disturbance in the aether, and freshly manifested at that. Papalymo: It seems to be emanating from Lifemend Stump. We must hurry!

Yda (Lyse): Are you all right? Your eyes glazed over for a while there. Papalymo: The good news is that the Hearer is unharmed. Somewhat dazed, yes, but whole of mind and body. The bad news...concerns everything else. Papalymo: Lest you forget, the Twelveswood is the domain of the elementals; it is by their leave that man abides in the forest and avails himself of its bounty. The ground which the dungeon occupies is no different. Papalymo: Having no more use for the dungeon, the Gridanians sent a Hearer to offer the place back to the elementals by way of the Rite of Returning, which is essentially an expression of gratitude. Papalymo: Alas, he failed to complete the ritual for obvious reasons. Papalymo: While the poor soul cannot be blamed for this, the fact remains that unless the elementals are given their due, they may well consider it a slight. And the very last thing the Gridanians can afford to do in these uncertain times is risk alienating the Twelveswood's eternal guardians. Papalymo: But you have more than done your part. We shall see the Hearer to safety, and send for his peers to finish the rite. Papalymo: In the meantime, please make your way outside and report to Alestan. Papalymo: Ah, but where are my manners? Papalymo: I am Papalymo, and the tactless woman beside me here is─ Yda (Lyse): Yda! Yda (Lyse): Papalymo and I are surveying the Twelveswood together! Yda (Lyse): Pleased to meet you! Papalymo: Yda, give me a hand, would you? Papalymo: Wait. There is something...familiar about you. Could it be that you are...? Papalymo: N-Never mind. Doubtless my eyes are playing tricks. Till we meet again!

Alestan: All this happened inside Spirithold? Twelve preserve us... Alestan: Who was that masked mage, and by what dark ambition is he driven? So many things shrouded in mystery... Alestan: Well, I shan't find any answers on my own. I must needs discuss this with Galfrid. The matter warrants a full investigation, if I am any judge, and that shall certainly be my recommendation. Alestan: Your courage has saved many lives this day, adventurer. For this you have my deepest gratitude. Alestan: Pray return to Gridania and seek out Miounne. Alestan: I understand she wishes to thank you for your efforts on our behalf.

Mother Miounne: Welcome back, Forename. A little bird tells me that the Hearer and his party owe you their lives. Mother Miounne: A tale for the tavern if ever there were one! ...It is only a shame that I must ask you not to tell it─for the time being, at least. Do I make myself clear? Mother Miounne: Until the Hearers have made their will on the matter known, it would be best to avoid unsettling people with stories of walking statues. Mother Miounne: Now then, you must have suitable recompense for your valiant service. Mother Miounne: For the first half of your reward, I give you leave to make use of the accommodations here at the guild. Mother Miounne: Arrangements have been made, so all you need do is speak with Antoinaut whenever you crave the comfort of a firm bed and a soft pillow. Mother Miounne: For the second half of your reward, I offer you another path to fame and fortune: guildleves. Mother Miounne: Guildleves are records of the various requests we receive from the citizenry. They outline all manner of tasks which ambitious young adventurers like you can elect to undertake. Mother Miounne: Gontrant is our guildleve official, or “levemete,” here at the Carline Canopy. I have spoken with him regarding your knack for solving challenging problems, and he is eager to make your acquaintance. Mother Miounne: By the way, have you perchance heard about the coming festival? It is truly a splendid occasion, looked forward to by young and old alike, and one I heartily recommend that you take the time to enjoy. Mother Miounne: Don't be too disappointed if the recent troubles cast a shadow over proceedings, however. I fear nothing short of the mysterious interloper's apprehension can prevent that... Mother Miounne: But we were talking about you, Forename. You have made Mother proud. I expect great things of you, young lady!

On to Bentbranch Impressed by your progress, Miounne wishes to send you on to Bentbranch Meadows, where you will find further opportunities to learn.

Mother Miounne: How is my favorite fresh-faced adventurer? Oh, do not scowl so─I speak out of habit. You've come a long way since first you walked through my door, and I'll not deny it. Mother Miounne: As a matter of fact, I think it's about time you made yourself useful at Bentbranch Meadows in the Central Shroud. Mother Miounne: Unlike the recruits you see at the Bannock, the men and women out at Bentbranch are fully occupied with their own work. As such, I imagine there are more than a few who would welcome the assistance of a rapidly maturing adventurer like yourself. Mother Miounne: Bentbranch is also home to a very usefully situated aetheryte. It is, in other words, the perfect place for you to begin the next stage of your journey as an adventurer. Mother Miounne: And what better time than the present!? Leave the city via the Blue Badger Gate, and continue to the southwest until you come to a bridge. Mother Miounne: Cross it, and when you spy an aetheryte in the distance, you may congratulate yourself on having successfully found Bentbranch Meadows. Mother Miounne: If you so fancy, you may also make use of the chocobo porter service, doubtless the safest way to get to your destination. Chocobokeep Cingur should not hesitate to lend his birds to a capable adventurer like you. Mother Miounne: Oh, and be sure to introduce yourself to Keitha, the head chocobo wrangler, when you arrive.

Keitha: You must be the 'venturer Miounne sent word about. I'm Keitha, head wrangler 'round these parts. Keitha: I've heard many and more things about you─good things, lest you worry. Keitha: When the Elder Seedseer bade us welcome 'venturers, 'tis fair to say we had our doubts─till hardworkin' folk like yourself set about provin' us wrong, that is. Consider me a convert! Keitha: Anyroad, you've a mind to help out at the ranch, have you? Good. We could always do with a hand or two to keep the place runnin' smoothly. Keitha: As a matter of fact, I've a task right here that wants doin'. Keitha: Let me know when you're ready to get busy. Oh, and you come highly recommended, so don't go lettin' no one down, eh?

You Shall Not Trespass Keitha, the head wrangler at Bentbranch Meadows, appears most distraught. See if there is anything you can do.

Keitha: Seven hells! Some bastard Qiqirn has gone and broken one of me chocobo eggs! Keitha: The filthy little thief was busy lootin' the barn when a guard startled it, promptin' the damn thing to drop the egg it was clutchin' and run. Some of the lads gave chase, bless 'em, but when three more of the vermin appeared, me lot had no choice but to turn back. Keitha: Somethin' has to be done about those Qiqirn... Would you mind headin' over to the Matron's Lethe and havin' a word with a soldier named Roseline for me? The ratmen nest in her neck of the woods, see... She'll know what to do.

Roseline: You're here on Keitha's behalf? Hm? I see. Broke one of her eggs, you say? And there were four of the creatures? Roseline: The Qiqirn are a nuisance at the best of times, but we must now add trespass and chocobo murder to their list of transgressions... They have forced our hand. Our retribution must needs be swift and decisive. Roseline: And who better than you to deliver it, adventurer? Find the lair to the west of here and make an example of exactly four Qiqirn scramblers. We can send no clearer message.

Roseline: The deed is done? Good. A grim task, but a necessary one. Roseline: You have shown them the folly of inciting the wrath of those who consort with adventurers. Perhaps now the Qiqirn will think twice before giving in to their larcenous proclivities.

Don't Look Down Osha Jaab, a Wood Wailer at the Matron's Lethe, is looking for a sure-footed adventurer to pluck blue trumpets from the root of the nearby heavenspillar.

Osha Jaab: Ho there, adventurer. You seem light on your feet. Fancy a quick skip along the root of the heavenspillar here? I need someone to pick off a blue trumpet or two. Osha Jaab: I know what you're thinking: it's naught more than a mushroom, so why the commotion? I'll tell you why. You allow that fungal menace to multiply, and within a moon they'll be covering the whole damn root and rotting the wood clear through. Osha Jaab: Just watch your step while you're up there, though─the diremites on the ground won't waste any time adding insult to falling injuries. Osha Jaab: Once you're done, head up to the top end of the root and report to Theodore. He'll be glad to hear someone's taken care of one of his more dreaded chores.

Theodore: Oh, you've cleared the root of blue trumpets? Wonderful! To be quite honest, I have this teeny-tiny problem with heights. <sigh> No, this is not my ideal posting, but we all do what we must. Theodore: Keeping the root passable is an important job, you see. It's one of the few ways folk can traverse the Central Shroud since the Calamity all but split the area in twain. Theodore: It is not, perhaps, the easiest pathway to walk, but there are those who believe the will of the Matron Herself caused this tendril of a heavenspillar to remain thus suspended, that it might serve the forest's people. I'm rather fond of the notion, myself.

In the Grim Darkness of the Forest Theodore is looking for an adventurer to deliver a message.

Theodore: It is─regrettably─my duty to stand watch over the road from here to Bentbranch Meadows. Theodore: The ranch has become a veritable institution of Gridania, so any threats to its continued operation are taken quite seriously by the Wood Wailers. Theodore: Which reminds me─mayhap it was my imagination, but I believe I caught a glimpse of some shadowy fellow not too long ago. Would you mind passing word to Roseline down below? I would go myself but, well...it's hard enough marshaling the courage to walk the root for my shift...

Roseline: A shadowy fellow? Hmmm...now that you mention it, I may have seen something. Roseline: I dismissed it as a trick of the light before, but I thought I saw a shadow in the forest to the north. Still, I suspect it is nothing more than a Qiqirn thief on the run. Roseline: If you must sate your curiosity, by all means investigate. Should you actually find something of note, I would like very much to see it.

Roseline: Hmmm? Have you found something?

Leather Bag A tattered leather satchel you found lying near a gutted campfire.

Roseline: Remnants of a campfire and a forgotten bag...this could belong to any adventurer or traveler. And inside we have...a chocobo grooming brush and roseling oil? Roseline: But wait─why would a traveler make camp here, when it would be far safer to beg the hospitality of Bentbranch Meadows? Roseline: Bugger me, I think this belongs to that stranger said to be meddling with the chocobos! Thank you, adventurer. We have been lax in our duties, but no longer─I swear we will find this shadow.

Threat Level Elevated Roseline would like you to warn other sentries of the stranger's activities.

Roseline: We cannot allow other sentries to dismiss similar sightings─they must know what we have learned. To that end, I've prepared this letter containing everything we know about our mysterious stranger. Roseline: I need you to show it to my comrades throughout the Shroud. Once each sentry has committed the details to memory, have them write their name at the bottom for confirmation. Roseline: Start with Elmar at the Bannock, then find Bernard at the eastern gates of Bentbranch Meadows. They ought to relay the information to the others. Roseline: Finally, make sure Eylgar sees the letter. He stands watch within the stables, so if this stranger's aim is to harm the chocobos, Eylgar may have to personally put an end to it.

Elmar: You don't look like you're here for training...

Roseline's Missive Information regarding a suspicious individual compiled by Roseline of the Wood Wailers.

Elmar: A shadowy figure... Understood. I'll pass word to the recruits as well as the sentries. Elmar: Let me just make my mark...there, that should do. Elmar: If you follow the road south, you'll find Bernard by the bridge to Bentbranch. Godsspeed, adventurer.

Bernard: You have business with me, adventurer? Bernard: Roseline is right to be cautious. For this stranger to venture so close, yet go to such great lengths to remain undetected, is highly suspicious. They clearly have designs on Bentbranch. Bernard: We appreciate the help. I should write my name here, yes? Bernard: And...here, take it. You'll find Eylgar in the stables, past the aetheryte.

Eylgar: Mind the birds, adventurer. They get nervous around strangers. Eylgar: What's this? A shadowy stranger near the Matron's Lethe... You've already shown this to Bernard and Elmar, I see. Good, good. Eylgar: Then all that's left is to inform the staff here. Not everyone here is a Wood Wailer, true, but even our stableboys wouldn't hesitate to take up arms to defend these chocobos.

Migrant Marauders Eylgar would like to impose upon the kindness of an adventurer.

Eylgar: You're quite the compassionate adventurer, by the sound of it. Well far be it from me to look a gift chocobo in the mouth─I have need of a capable woman like yourself. Eylgar: We received a peddler at the gates the other day─an excitable Lalafell that was sweating and swearing that he had been attacked by large winged beasts. Yet other than hornets, I know of no flying creatures in this region. Eylgar: If there's any truth to what he said, it might prove problematic for other travelers. Follow the road south and see if you can find any evidence to support his claim. Eylgar: And, should you find something, kindly tell Lothaire to patrol his area sometime instead of just standing beneath the spire and staring at the godsdamned road. In those words.

Lothaire: ...A northern vulture? Two? And they were defending a nest!? Lothaire: Well, I, uh...perhaps we could omit that last detail from any official reports. I would rather not give Eylgar any further cause to be cross. Lothaire: Thank you for slaying the beasts. You may rest assured that I will not permit this to happen again.

A Hearer Is Often Late Lothaire, a guard at Galvanth's Spire, wants you to visit the Hedgetree.

Lothaire: I have another task for you, adventurer. I need you to head to the Hedgetree to the southwest of here and speak with Hearer Leonnie. Lothaire: After tending to the Hedgetree, the Hearer was scheduled to board a boat from the Mirror Planks... Well, the vessel's departure time has come and gone, but there is still no sign of her. Lothaire: Knowing how absorbed the Hearer becomes in her work, I am not unduly concerned. Armelle, however, was responsible for organizing Leonnie's transportation and is likely wondering if her wayward passenger is ever going to arrive. Perhaps a gentle reminder is in order?

Leonnie: Yes, what troubles you, my de─? Ah. Yes. The boat. I had quite forgotten. Leonnie: Hm? Oh, my task with the Hedgetree is well and finished, but the elementals murmur of a malevolent presence in the vicinity of the Tam-Tara Deepcroft. Leonnie: I must abide a while longer, that I might better divine the source of the elementals' distress. Please inform Armelle that I shall be late in arriving.

Armelle: You bear a message from Hearer Leonnie? An evil presence in the Deepcroft? That does sound grave, indeed. Armelle: I shall organize a vessel for a later time, then. Perhaps a bell from now? Two? Better make it three, just to be safe. Thank you for your trouble.

Salvaging the Scene Armelle, a local at the Mirror Planks, wishes you to salvage cargo from a wreckage on the road.

Armelle: Might you assist me with another matter, milady? A wagon that departed from Quarrymill was overturned on the road when some large, ill-tempered forest beast chose that moment to defend its territory. Armelle: By Nophica's grace, the driver escaped without serious injury, but the wagon's cargo was not so fortunate. With none willing to risk another encounter with the creature, I can only assume the goods remain strewn across the ground where the incident occurred. Armelle: Simply follow the road here to the south and you should come across the wreckage. Salvage what cargo you can, and deliver it to Keitha at Bentbranch Meadows if you would be so kind.

Keitha: You have a delivery for me?

Fallen Cargo Though the crate is splintered in several places, it does not appear that its contents were damaged in the fall.

Keitha: Ah, this's the shipment I was waitin' on from Quarrymill. I heard the wagon ran afoul o' some great monstrosity just up the path from the Mirror Planks, but I see you've managed to scrape together a few bits and pieces. Keitha: Seems I can't get through two bells these days without hearin' some new tale o' horrors in the Deepcroft or bandit cutthroats prowlin' the woods hereabouts. Keitha: Makes me wonder if me chocobos are safe at night, it does. If we're ever in need of a 'venturer's skills, I hope you'll be around to lend a hand.

Leia's Legacy Luquelot at Bentbranch Meadows seeks your assistance in finding a lost chocobo egg.

Luquelot: No! Oh, please gods, no! Leia's egg! Luquelot: Forename, you must help me! I stepped out of the stables for but a moment, and when I returned it was gone! Luquelot: I─ What was gone? An egg! Sorry? You are sure the chocobos will lay another!? Gah! You do not understand─the egg is extremely valuable! I must find it! Luquelot: You will help me, won't you, Forename? Oh, thank you, thank you! Luquelot: Someone must have made off with it. There can be no other explanation. I shall scour every ilm of the stable once more just to be sure. While I do so, I should be very grateful if you would ask the others if they noticed anything unusual.

Ewmond: See anyone actin' suspicious? I most certainly did, lass. A man, it was, runnin' off towards the Tam-Tara Deepcroft. Ewmond: Hm? You say an egg was took? Then I'd say that there was yer culprit. Ewmond: But why would anyone pinch a chocobo egg? Without the proper learnin', it's damn near impossible to get one to hatch.

Leodaire: A chocobo egg has gone missing? Hm, well let me think. Leodaire: Now that you mention it, the chocobos were making quite a racket earlier. So much so, in fact, that I ran over to check on them, almost flattening a passing peddler in my haste. I didn't find anything out of the ordinary, though. Leodaire: Hm? Could I describe the peddler? Oh...he was an Elezen fellow─didn't recognize his face. Seemed awfully twitchy. Oh gods, you don't think he...? Why in the hells didn't I accost him!?

Bernard: Have I seen any odd characters about? Aside from yourself, you mean? Not that I recall. Bernard: I did see someone calming the birds, but only from a distance. I assumed it was Luquelot... Bernard: But if you say he was away from the stables at the time...then who was that with the chocobos?

Luquelot: There can be no mistake, then. The egg was indeed stolen. Luquelot: And from what you have told me, this was no simple robbery. Luquelot: That the culprit should take only Leia's egg and disregard all the rest tells me we are dealing with someone well versed in chocobo breeding. I am sorry to say that the individual in question is like to be a citizen of my native Ishgard. Luquelot: Leia, you see, is of the bloodline of Ouranos─one of the greatest birds ever to grace an Ishgardian stable. Luquelot: Many a man in my homeland would give his right arm to possess one of Leia's eggs... Gods, I should have foreseen this! We must give chase at once! Keitha: Hold your chocobos, Luquelot! If this egg thief's from Ishgard, like you say, why'd he go runnin' off towards the Tam-Tara Deepcroft? Unless I've got me mental map upside down, that's the opposite direction. Luquelot: W-Well, yes, but...he may seek to lay a false trail, or...uh... Bah! The why of it is not important! Leia's egg is all that matters! Adventurer, I beg of you, hunt the scoundrel down and take back what he stole! Keitha: Well, at least you ain't plannin' on chasin' after him yourself...wherever he's from. Keitha: We may work wonders with our birds, Forename, but acts of derrin'-do ain't exactly our field. If you don't mind, we'll leave that end of things to you. Luquelot: With luck, you may catch the thief on the road to the Tam-Tara Deepcroft, but do be careful─we cannot be certain he is working alone in this.

Janremi Blackheart: <pant> <wheeze> I have caught you at last, you spiteful imp! Now hand over the egg! Kuplu Kopo: You can't have it, kupo! This egg belongs to Luquelot! Janremi Blackheart: Who in Halone's bloody fury are you? Ah, those sops at Bentbranch hired themselves an adventurer, did they? Janremi Blackheart: Yet another complication. This farce has gone on long enough. Kill the moogle and the farmers' hireling, and bring me that damned egg!

Janremi Blackheart: Meddlesome wretches... Prepare to die! Kuplu Kopo: You'll not have Leia's egg, kupo! Janremi Blackheart: Ugh... She's tougher than she looks... Janremi Blackheart: You'll feel this one, you obstinate cur! Kuplu Kopo: You're winning, kupo!

Kuplu Kopo: Thank you, kupo. Kuplu Kopo: What's that, kupo? How did I come to be out here? Kuplu Kopo: Ah, well, this egg here is Leia's. Leia is a very special chocobo, in case you didn't know. Anyway, I was having a nap in the stables when that nasty fellow crept in and tried to steal it, kupo! Kuplu Kopo: So I snatched it up as quickly as I could and made a run for it. I was planning to take it back to Bentbranch Meadows myself, but it might be safer if you did it. I'm sure Luquelot will be very happy to see you, kupo!

Luquelot: Do you have the egg!? Is it safe!?

Leia's Egg You must deliver this egg, adventurer. It's our only hope!

Luquelot: Yes, it has the right coloring, the right weight... It is most definitely Leia's egg. Luquelot: I know not how to thank you. Keitha: You had me worried for a bit there, Forename. 'Tis good to see you and the egg back safe and sound. Luquelot: ...So I was correct in my assumption that an Ishgardian was involved─albeit one who did not, in fact, make off with the egg. Well, I could hardly have anticipated the intervention of a moogle! Keitha: Bugger me... It couldn't be the same one...could it? Luquelot: Might you have encountered our unlikely savior before, Keitha? Keitha: Could be, aye. One of 'em saved my hide back when the Calamity struck. Keitha: I was in a part of the woods what we now call the Standin' Corses that day. Seemed like the whole bleedin' forest was ablaze, and I couldn't see a yalm in front of me for all the smoke. Well-nigh given up hope, I had. Keitha: Then, all of a sudden, a moogle appears out of nowhere, tugs at me smolderin' sleeve, and leads me straight to a bit of the wood where the fire hadn't taken hold. Keitha: And now you know why the business is named “Moogle's Gift Mounts.” Seemed like the least I could do. I'd be dead if it weren't for that plucky little bugger. Luquelot: Incredible. It may well be that the moogle has stood vigil over us ever since that day... Keitha: Ha! We'd better get back to work, then. Wouldn't want to go lettin' our guardian angel down, would we? Forename, you have our thanks. Oh, and I believe Luquelot wants to give you a little somethin' for your troubles.

Luquelot: Leia's egg is irreplaceable. I cannot well express to you the depth of my gratitude. Luquelot: And yet, I find that I am still troubled... While this whole regrettable episode unfolded, I bore witness to a sight that greatly concerned me...

Dread Is in the Air Luquelot appears to be in need of assistance.

Luquelot: My thanks for your kindness earlier. I hate to impose again, but I have need of your assistance in another matter─one of grave import, I fear. Luquelot: Of late, I have noticed that Ixali dirigibles have been appearing over the Twelveswood with increasing regularity. The frequency, however, does not bother me near so much as where they choose to fly─the patch of sky directly above the Guardian Tree. Luquelot: The tree is a sacred site, or so I was given to believe when first I came to Gridania, and thus I naturally assumed that the elementals would not suffer the Ixal to profane it. Yet the birdmen have been coming and going as they please, with nary a sign of protest from the guardians of the Twelveswood. Luquelot: And it was that which set me to thinking... Ever since the appearance of the much-talked-about “suspicious individual,” many and more strange things have been occurring in the forest. Could it be that he did something to the elementals? Luquelot: In case it proved useful, I have committed the details of my sightings to parchment, and would ask that you deliver the document to Mother Miounne. Luquelot: Please make all haste─I have an irrepressible feeling that something terrible is about to happen.

Mother Miounne: Hello there, Forename. Word of your tireless efforts at Bentbranch Meadows has reached my ears. The folk there have naught but the highest praise for you! Mother Miounne: You certainly have a knack for making Mother proud. Mother Miounne: Keep up the good work, you hear? Mother Miounne: Hm? A letter...from Luquelot?

Luquelot's Letter A sealed envelope entrusted to you by Bentbranch Meadows chocobokeep Luquelot.

Mother Miounne: I haven't the slightest inkling what this could be about... Mother Miounne: Gods be good... Mother Miounne: I have a mission for you, Forename. Suffice it to say, it is urgent. Mother Miounne: I fear it may also prove dangerous, however, so you must be prepared. Mother Miounne: Make what arrangements you can, and report back to me the moment you are ready.

To Guard a Guardian Miounne has a mind to assign you a mission of great import.

Mother Miounne: Time is of the essence, so I shall speak plain. Mother Miounne: Based on Luquelot's observations, the Ixal have designs on the Guardian Tree, and they mean to act soon. Mother Miounne: The tree is the oldest living thing in this ancient forest, and it is held sacred by every forestborn Gridanian. Mother Miounne: Should it come to any harm, the elementals would fly into a rage beyond pacifying. I dread to think of the chaos that would ensue. Mother Miounne: There isn't much time. We must act quickly. Mother Miounne: Forename, please see this letter to the hands of Bowlord Lewin, at the Seat of the First Bow in Quiver's Hold. Should the need arise, pray put yourself wholly at the man's disposal. I strongly suspect he will need all the able-bodied souls he can muster. Mother Miounne: The fate of Gridania hangs in the balance. Go swiftly, Forename.

Gods' Quiver Bow: An urgent message from Mother Miounne? Very well, you may enter.

Lewin: So you are Forename Surname, the adventurer of whom I have heard so much. I understand you wish words with me. Lewin: Miounne has information on the Ixal, you say? Speak freely─you have both my ears.

Miounne's Letter A sealed envelope entrusted to you by Mother Miounne of the Carline Canopy.

Lewin: ...Matron forfend! They mean to defile the Guardian Tree? Lewin: Before Nophica, I swear those filthy birdmen will not touch it─nay, not so much as a single leaf! Lewin: Twelve help me! How can it be that neither the Wood Wailers nor the Gods' Quiver caught wind of this? Lewin: I cannot help but think this plot bears the mark of the masked devil who has eluded us for so long. We must be wary─this incursion may be more than it seems. Lewin: Ah, would that the Warriors of Light were still with us... But this is no time for such idle thoughts. I thank you for delivering this message. You may assure Miounne that I will dispatch a unit of my best men to investi─ Gods' Quiver Bow: My lord! Lewin: What is it!? Gods' Quiver Bow: It's the Ixal, sir! The Ixal have amassed at the Guardian Tree! Lewin: Already!? Bloody hells... Lewin: Forename─Miounne believes you capable, and I can think of no better judge than she. Lend us your strength this day─aid in the defense of the Guardian Tree!

Gods' Quiver Instructor: The Bowlord sent you, yes? Good to have you with us! Gods' Quiver Instructor: The birdmen have completely surrounded the Guardian Tree, and their calls grow more urgent by the minute. Gods' Quiver Instructor: Whatever it is they mean to do, we cannot let them go through with it. They must be stopped, no matter the cost! Ixali Occultists: O mournful voice of creation! O mournful voice of time! Ixali Chieftain: Squaaawk! Attend me, all! Ixali Chieftain: To us, this forest, Tinolqa, belongs! Ixali Chieftain: Wisdom of Paragons, we possess! To our former glory, restore us it will! Ixali Chieftain: From this tree, a great crystal we take! Unto Garuda, an offering we shall make! Ixali Chieftain: Unfeathered ones and elementals, banish we shall! Our ancient home, reclaim we will! Squaaawk! Lewin: First squad, left flank. Second and third, right flank. Lewin: The rest, form the main host with me. It is high time we reminded our Ixal guests why we Quivermen are to be feared! Lewin: This position is yours, adventurer. May the elementals keep you! Ixali Chieftain: Squawk!? Ixali Chieftain: Interrupt us, you dare!? In your own blood, you shall bathe!

Galfrid the Gallant: The enemy chieftain is mine! Miraudont the Madder: We shall engage the main flock! Galfrid the Gallant: Another wave!? Where are they coming from!? Quzal Huatotl the Shrieker: Wisdom of Paragons, almighty is! Perish, unfeathered ones shall! Quzal Huatotl the Shrieker: Creature of the abyss! Mine enemies, strike down! Galfrid the Gallant: A voidsent!? Th-This bodes ill! Miraudont the Madder: Hold fast! We almost have him!

Gods' Quiver Bow: Impressive work, adventurer. Gods' Quiver Bow: The Bowlord bids you hold this position. Enemies may yet lurk near, so stay on your guard. Gods' Quiver Bow: We go to bolster the left flank, where the battle yet rages. Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): The source of her strength becomes clear... Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): You may have bested the golem, but you will not fare so well this day. Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): O mournful voice of creation! Send unto me a creature of the abyss, my thrall to command, that I may smite mine enemies! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Your very being imperils the plan. You cannot be suffered to live.

Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Soon, you shall take your vile gifts to the grave! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): How is this possible...? Papalymo: I trust you won't object to our assistance! Yda (Lyse): Looks like you could do with a hand! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Unwelcome guests... No matter, all shall fall before me! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Whence comes your strength!? Papalymo: It is past time we finished this! Yda (Lyse): Come on! We're almost there!

Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Unnngh... That the wisdom of the Paragons should be brought low...by mere mortals... Papalymo: ...Paragons? Yda (Lyse): That's what I heard. Papalymo: The Bringers of Chaos...or Ascians, to give them their proper name. Papalymo: It would seem our suspicions were correct─it is they who have been manipulating the beast tribes. Lewin: Forename, are you unharmed!? Had I known this creature was near, I would have sent men, not called them away! Gods' Quiver Bow: There is no mistake, sir─he is the one who stirred the Ixal from their nest. Our intelligence was reliable. Lewin: So this is the man who has eluded us for so long? Yda (Lyse): Right! We finally got him! Papalymo: We sensed an ominous presence, and came here as swiftly as our legs would carry us. Yda (Lyse): Well, it's good to know what we're up against, anyway. Lewin: My thanks as ever, friends. Lewin: Quivermen! Move out! Lewin: To say you played an instrumental role in the success of this mission would scarcely do justice to your efforts this day, adventurer. Upon your return to Gridania, pray visit me at Quiver's Hold. I will see to it that you receive the thanks you are due. Yda (Lyse): Hmmm...you're probably wondering why we always seem to appear when there's trouble, right? Yda (Lyse): Well, trust me when I tell you that it's almost never our fault. Despite what it looks like, Papalymo and I are actually helping the Gridanians. And we've been doing so for a good few years, too. Oh! Did I mention that we're not from around here? Yda (Lyse): Hm? Why, yes, we are Sharlayans! However did you know? Papalymo: So I wasn't mistaken... Yda (Lyse): Mistaken? About what? Papalymo: Nothing. Nothing at all. Yda (Lyse): Awww! You always do that! Mumble something loaded with meaning, only to keep it to yourself when someone asks! It's unfair! And it's especially unfair when the someone is me! Papalymo: Oh, do calm down! I'll tell you later. Yda (Lyse): Hmph! I bet you won't. Anyway, all's well that ends well. Papalymo: ...Quite. We'd best be on our way. Yda (Lyse): See you later!

Gods' Quiver Bow: Welcome back, adventurer. Your exploits at the Guardian Tree are the stuff of songs. The Bowlord awaits you within.

Lewin: I have awaited your return, Forename. Allow me to thank you again for helping us to defend the Guardian Tree. Lewin: Not only did you put the invading Ixal to rout─you confronted the masked mage and his fell minion, and emerged the victor. Lewin: I have good men and women under me, none of whom give me cause for complaint─but you, Forename, are a class apart. Lewin: Your strength, your determination, your heart... Lewin: You have all the makings of a great adventurer. Miounne is seldom mistaken in her appraisals, and she is plainly not mistaken now. Lewin: Gridania is stronger for your presence. The Elder Seedseer will doubtless be pleased to learn that a capable adventurer like you has come to us. Lewin: Once more, I thank you. Owing to your valor, disaster has been averted. ???: Elder Seedseer! ???: My lady! Kan-E-Senna: I am come to express my gratitude for your valiant efforts before the Guardian Tree. Kan-E-Senna: I am informed that an adventurer of singular talent now walks amongst us. You are she, are you not? Kan-E-Senna: My name is Kan-E-Senna, and it is my solemn charge to watch over all who call Gridania home. Kan-E-Senna: Well met and well come to our fair nation. Kan-E-Senna: It was your valor that won us the day, I believe. On behalf of all Gridanians, I offer you my humblest thanks. Kan-E-Senna: This gift I present to you as a small token of my gratitude. I hope that you will ever remain a friend to Gridania. Kan-E-Senna: Greenbliss is coming. It is an age-old ceremony to renew the bond between man and elemental. Kan-E-Senna: Over the centuries, it has blossomed into a joyous festival encompassing Gridanians from every walk of life. Kan-E-Senna: I should be most gratified if you would participate in the ceremony as Emissary. ???: Such a great honor! Kan-E-Senna: I look forward to seeing you on that most joyous of days. Kan-E-Senna: Till then, fare you well. May you walk in the light of the Crystal.

Festive Endeavors Bowlord Lewin has information regarding your role in Greenbliss.

Lewin: None in Gridania can doubt your worth, Forename... Lewin: But to receive such praise from the Elder Seedseer herself! Lewin: And nor is that the half of it! She chose you to play the role of Emissary, for gods' sakes! You! An outsider! Do you have any idea what this means!? Lewin: <sigh> But of course you don't. You are not forestborn...which is rather the point. Mistake me not, I think you worthy, but your selection is all but unprecedented. And I'll wager you have not the faintest inkling what is required of you... Lewin: There are preparations that the Emissary must needs complete ahead of time. I suggest you consult Miounne regarding the matter─she is overseeing the arrangements for the event. Lewin: Now, you had best get going─the ceremony cannot commence without the Emissary. Oh, and, Forename...don't make a hash of this!

Mother Miounne: Well, well, if it isn't the Emissary herself! Had I known you were coming, I would have baked a pie! Mother Miounne: You truly are full of surprises, Forename. Next you'll be telling me you're one of the Warriors of Light, back from a half-decade long holiday! Mother Miounne: But let's speak of preparations. As you doubtless already know, Greenbliss is an age-old ceremony for strengthening the bond between man and elemental. These days, though, the name also refers to the festival at large. Mother Miounne: In the ceremony, the Emissary serves as a conduit─a bridge between the people and the guardians of the Twelveswood. Suffice it to say, it is no small responsibility─nor does the Elder Seedseer choose mankind's representative on a whim. Mother Miounne: Seldom in history have non-forestborn been chosen for the role─which should give you an idea of the magnitude of the honor being accorded you. Mother Miounne: For your part, you are required to wear a ceremonial artifact, which is presently in the keeping of Timbermaster Beatin. Mother Miounne: Go to the Carpenters' Guild and collect it from the man, then return to me for further instructions.

Beatin: So you are the Emissary-to-be. Miounne sent word that you would be coming to collect the ceremonial artifact. Beatin: The good news is that it's ready─painstakingly crafted by these very hands, and from the rarest of materials. Beatin: Take it, along with this warning: get so much as a scratch on the thing, and I shall make an unceremonial artifact out of you.

Mother Miounne: Back from your trip to the Carpenters' Guild? Let's see what you have in that box.

Wooden Lockbox As long as the lock is intact, we may never know for certain what Timbermaster Beatin placed inside.

Mother Miounne: Ahhh...this is by far the finest Monoa mask I have ever laid eyes upon. The timbermaster has truly outdone himself this time. Mother Miounne: In case he didn't mention, the mask is crafted from consecrated lumber rendered up by the Guardian Tree, solely for use in the ceremony. In other words, it is priceless─Mother bids you to handle it with care. Mother Miounne: And with that, your preparations are complete. The venue should just about be in order as well. If you have any questions, now's the time to ask them.

Renewing the Covenant Miounne has some final words of advice to offer regarding your role in Greenbliss.

Mother Miounne: Now that you have the Monoa mask, all that's left is to participate in the ceremony. Mother Miounne: Perchance you are feeling nervous, but never fear─despite all the pomp surrounding the role, there really is nothing to being Emissary. Mother Miounne: All you are required to do is wear the mask, stand up straight, and look dignified. The more involved aspects of the proceedings will be handled by others. Simple, no? Mother Miounne: The ceremony will be held at Mih Khetto's Amphitheatre. When you are ready, make yourself known to the caretaker there─a woman named Estaine. Mother Miounne: Oh, and be sure to wear your mask or she may not recognize you. Now, off you go, Forename, and good luck!

Estaine: Ah, you must be the Emissary. Estaine: I see you have come prepared. That is well. Estaine: I have been instructed to escort you to your place. Please follow me.

???: Look. ???: The Elder Seedseer. ???: Twelve bless her heart! Kan-E-Senna: May she find favor with the elementals! Kan-E-Senna: This radiance... Kan-E-Senna: Could it be...a Crystal of Light? Kan-E-Senna: Tell me true─has the Mothercrystal revealed Herself to you? Did you bask in Her Light? Kan-E-Senna: Have you perchance experienced sensations akin to aether sickness of late? Kan-E-Senna: That Hydaelyn would speak directly to this woman... Kan-E-Senna: There once were dauntless adventurers who fought in the name of Eorzea. Kan-E-Senna: When the primals threatened to bleed the land dry, these brave men and women rose to face them. When the Garlean Empire resumed its war of conquest, they rushed to the realm's defense. Kan-E-Senna: And when it was foretold that Dalamud would fall, they fought with all their strength to deliver us from certain doom. Kan-E-Senna: Yet as strong and as brave as they were, they─like so many─disappeared amidst the flames at Carteneau. Kan-E-Senna: None have forgotten the heroes who gave all for the sake of a realm not their own. Kan-E-Senna: Yet when we try to recall their names, we find the pages of our memories are blank, as if bleached by the sun. Kan-E-Senna: And when we try to recall their faces, we see them only in silhouette, as if they stood betwixt us and a blinding glare. Kan-E-Senna: Hence have these heroes come to be known as the Warriors of Light. Kan-E-Senna: Beholding you, illuminated by the glow of the Crystal, I could not help but be reminded of them. Kan-E-Senna: The Crystal has chosen you for a purpose. Kan-E-Senna: Trust to its guiding light, and all shall be revealed to you in good time. Kan-E-Senna: Though none can say for certain what the future will bring, it is my belief that you may yet play a telling role in the tale of this great realm. Kan-E-Senna: ...For the power of the Echo resides within you.

Mother Miounne: Ah! Look who's back in the land of the living! Mother Miounne: Hm? You mean to say you don't remember a thing? Mother Miounne: You collapsed in the middle of the ceremony─gave us all a good fright. So we carried you back here. I must say, you're heavier than you look! Mother Miounne: You've hardly stopped of late─your exertions must have caught up with you. Mother Miounne: But you adventurers are nothing if not resilient! Seeing as the worst is past, I shall take my leave and return to my duties. Mother Miounne: Oh, I almost forgot─the Elder Seedseer told me she'd like to see you when you felt well enough. Mother Miounne: The gentle soul was almost as worried about you as I was, bless her. When you're back on your feet, be sure and visit her at the Lotus Stand.

Silent Conjurer: Ah, you are Forename Surname, are you not? I bid you welcome, my lady. The Elder Seedseer left word that you would be joining her at the Lotus Stand. May I show you in?

Kan-E-Senna: I have looked forward to your coming, Forename. But tell me, are you recovered? Kan-E-Senna: I am most glad of that. Now, I hope you will not doubt the earnestness of my concern...but I would ask a favor of you. Nor can I deny that I summoned you here in part with this in mind. Know, however, that I proceed only upon the understanding that you are rested and well.

The Gridanian Envoy Kan–E–Senna would entrust you with a task of great import.

Kan-E-Senna: Thank you for hearing me out. Kan-E-Senna: I have written a letter to my counterparts in the Eorzean Alliance. Kan-E-Senna: The Battle of Carteneau and the Calamity that followed claimed countless souls, and left countless more bereft and alone. In the dark days that followed, many were the survivors who thought themselves less fortunate than the dead. Kan-E-Senna: Five years have come and gone, but the land and the people still bear the wounds of the devastation. Kan-E-Senna: Nor are we any closer to learning the fate of the Warriors of Light. Kan-E-Senna: Yet so long as we live, never must we give up hope. We owe this to those who laid down their lives that we might behold another dawn. Kan-E-Senna: In remembrance of them, a memorial service will soon be held upon the anniversary of the Battle of Carteneau. This missive bears the details of that service. Kan-E-Senna: You graciously accepted the part of Emissary in the recent ceremony. Kan-E-Senna: Should you be so willing, I would now make you my envoy, and have you bear my message to our allies. Kan-E-Senna: Your dedication to the people of Gridania rouses fond memories in me, and I would choose no other for the role. Will you do me this favor? Kan-E-Senna: Humbly, I thank you. Kan-E-Senna: As you are no doubt aware, our partners in the Eorzean Alliance lie some considerable distance away. Nor are Ul'dah and Limsa Lominsa close to one another. Kan-E-Senna: Yet fear not, for I have no intention of subjecting you, mine own newly anointed envoy, to a journey which would take weeks by land. Kan-E-Senna: No, I mean for you to travel by air. Receive of me this airship pass. With it, you may make use of the skyways that connect the three city-states of the Alliance. Kan-E-Senna: The airship landing is situated upon the lower floor of the Carline Canopy. Simply show your pass, and you will be admitted to the departure area. Before you embark upon your journey, however, you would do well to seek the worldly wisdom of Miounne. Few forestborn Gridanians know more of the lands beyond the Twelveswood than she. Kan-E-Senna: In better times, airships were available for the convenience of one and all. Alas, the risk that our crafts may fall to imperial attack has forced a reduction in the number of flights. Kan-E-Senna: Consequently, it has become necessary to restrict air travel only to those whose need is great. Such individuals may petition the relevant parties to be issued an airship pass. As you may have deduced, I myself am one such party. Kan-E-Senna: ...Yet I was not alone in desiring that you be granted the privilege of air travel. Kan-E-Senna: Such is the potential you show. Kan-E-Senna: We have no doubt but that you will reward our faith in you, Forename. Kan-E-Senna: By the power vested in me, I bid you journey forth as my envoy into the great realm of Eorzea. Kan-E-Senna: Walk her fields, brave her seas, and strive to know her better. Kan-E-Senna: And wheresoever you go, go without fear, for the path shall ever be revealed to those who are true of heart. Kan-E-Senna: Guided by the Crystal's light, set forth, and discover your destiny.

Mother Miounne: 'Tis good to see you up and about again, Forename. Tell me, did you pay the Elder Seedseer a visit as I bade? Mother Miounne: Appointed personal envoy!? Mother Miounne: And now you are to bear the Elder Seedseer's missive to our allies... Mother Miounne: Well! It seems you've made an impression on the great woman! I can't argue with her judgment, though. You've earned this honor with tireless hard work, and anyone who says you don't deserve it had better not do so in my hearing! Mother Miounne: I find myself praising you often of late, but Mother is truly proud of you. Mother Miounne: Short of a Warrior of Light, I can imagine no better adventurer to represent us─and that, my girl, is some compliment! Mother Miounne: But I've flattered you enough for one day. And I don't want your head to get too big, or you'll struggle to lug it around the realm. Speaking of which, Eorzea is a big old place. Mother Miounne: Now that you have an airship pass, you can really start to broaden your horizons. The sky's quite literally the limit. Mother Miounne: Even if your errand didn't call for it, I would strongly suggest visiting the two other city-states of the Alliance before you go anywhere else. They are, of course, Limsa Lominsa, city of pirates, and Ul'dah, jewel of the desert. Mother Miounne: Once you've acquainted yourself with them, you can turn your sights on whichever lesser-trodden region takes your fancy. Mother Miounne: The Calamity changed the face of Eorzea, and much of her now lies in shadow, beyond man's ken. It's a veritable playground for a wide-eyed adventurer like your good self. Mother Miounne: Mind you, it won't all be fun and games. Mother Miounne: Each nation faces its fair share of problems, from internal strife to conflict with the beast tribes and their primals. So don't be too surprised if you find yourself embroiled in the odd unsavory situation on your travels. Mother Miounne: But no matter what difficulties you encounter, I am confident that you will pull through, and emerge the stronger for the experience. Mother Miounne: These are interesting times for Eorzea, Forename. It's been five years now since the Calamity, but folk are finally beginning to look to the future. Mother Miounne: A period of great change is upon us, and you have a part to play in it. And if that prospect doesn't excite you, I don't know what will!

Lionnellais: Greetings, good madam. This is the reservation counter for Limsa Lominsa-bound flights. Lionnellais: Oh, are you not Forename Surname, the Elder Seedseer's personal envoy? We at Highwind Skyways are honored to serve you! Will you be flying with us today?

Proceed to the landing area?
Yes
No Lionnellais: Very well. When you are ready to board, please let me know.

Airship Attendant: Attention, all passengers: the airship bound for Limsa Lominsa is about to depart. Please make your way to the boarding gate. Mother Miounne: Farewell, Forename. Mother Miounne: One day, minstrels will sing of your deeds. Mother Miounne: May you ever walk in the light of the Crystal.

Arrivals Attendant: Ah, you must be the envoy from Gridania! Welcome to Limsa Lominsa, my lady. Admiral Bloefhiswyn awaits your arrival.

Leave the landing area?
Yes
No Arrivals Attendant: Please let me know if you require any assistance.

Storm Honor Guard: You are the Gridanian envoy? Welcome to Limsa Lominsa. Storm Honor Guard: The Admiral has been looking forward to your arrival. Storm Honor Guard: Please proceed to the Crow's Lift at your earliest convenience. It will take you to Bulwark Hall. Storm Honor Guard: Once there, pray speak with Zanthael. He will be pleased to show you in to the Admiral's command room on the Bridge.

Zanthael: Greetings, madam, and welcome to our fair city. If you would permit me to examine the seal on the missive you carry...

Letter to the Admiral A letter addressed to Limsa Lominsan Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn.

Zanthael: Yes, everything seems to be in order. My apologies. We cannot afford to be complacent, you understand. Please, step this way.

??? (Merlwyb): Enter. Merlwyb: I did not expect the Gridanian envoy to be an adventurer. It speaks highly of your character that the Elder Seedseer would choose an outsider to represent her nation's interests. Merlwyb: This way. Merlwyb: I bid you welcome. Merlwyb: I am Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, Admiral of Limsa Lominsa, and commander of the Maelstrom. Merlwyb: Now, what news from the Black Shroud? Merlwyb: Hm. A memorial service to honor the fallen. Merlwyb: Seven hells... Has it been five years? Merlwyb: Five years since the Garlean Empire sought to wrest Eorzea from our grasp... Merlwyb: It was in answer to the imperial threat that the city-states formed the Grand Companies, and forged the Eorzean Alliance anew. But Garlemald was not content to wager all on a simple contest of martial might. They had other plans─the Meteor project. Merlwyb: Legatus Nael van Darnus─hells take him─intended to “cleanse” our realm by snatching the lesser moon, Dalamud, from the heavens and casting it down upon our heads. Desperate to prevent this lunatic scheme, we marched our forces to the Carteneau Flats and there met the VIIth Imperial Legion in battle. Merlwyb: Never have I seen a fight like the Battle of Carteneau─and I have seen full many. Merlwyb: But though we gave no quarter, spared not one onze of effort...we could not prevent what followed. Merlwyb: From inside the shell of Dalamud came a winged nightmare─a dragon the size of a bloody city. 'Twas the elder primal Bahamut, bent on making an eighth hell of Eorzea. Merlwyb: In the space of a breath, the legions of the Empire were set aflame, while our own armies fared little better. 'Twas as if the whole world was burning... Words cannot well describe the scene. Merlwyb: And yet...by some miracle, a few among us were spared. Merlwyb: Even as I steeled myself for death, a blinding white light enveloped me, robbing me of my senses. Merlwyb: When I regained them, the dragon was gone, and the still-smoldering land was warped beyond all knowing. Merlwyb: Were Archon Louisoix still with us, he would doubtless shed some light on these unfathomable happenings. Alas, he is not, and I fear we will want for his wisdom in the days to come. Merlwyb: For while our nations struggle to recover from the devastation, the beastmen call forth their damned primals to torment us anew. Merlwyb: Unless we put aside our differences and rebuild now, our foes will catch us unprepared. Merlwyb: And I speak not only of the beastmen. Do not imagine that the Empire has forsaken its claim on Eorzea. The imperials crowd our borders, waiting to strike. Merlwyb: Damn it all, we need champions to replace those we lost... Merlwyb: But such thoughts are worse than worthless. Time is short, and none will save us, save ourselves. It is the duty of every soul who survived the Calamity to work together for the good of Eorzea...and this memorial service may be the very thing to unite us. Merlwyb: Aye, Kan-E-Senna has the right of it. I accept her proposal. Merlwyb: Your duty is done here, adventurer─I will see to it that the Elder Seedseer receives my reply. Merlwyb: You travel next to Ul'dah, yes? Merlwyb: Pray give my regards to General Raubahn. Oh, and tell him the wolf has been sniffing around the stables. A private jest─and one in poor taste─but I would have you tell it all the same. Merlwyb: Fare you well, Forename. May the Navigator guide you on your journey.

L'nophlo: Greetings, madam. This is the counter for passengers traveling to Ul'dah. L'nophlo: A pleasure to serve you again, madam. Are you ready to board the airship to Ul'dah?

Proceed to the landing area?
Yes
No L'nophlo: Very well, madam. I'll be glad to assist you when you are.

Arrivals Attendant: Ah, you must be the envoy from Gridania! Welcome to Ul'dah, madam. The Flame General awaits your arrival.

Leave the landing area?
Yes
No Arrivals Attendant: Please let me know if you require any assistance.

Bartholomew: The Gridanian envoy, I presume? Would you be so good as to allow me to inspect the missive you bear, madam? My thanks.

Letter to the General A letter addressed to Ul'dahn Flame General Raubahn Aldynn.

Bartholomew: Ah yes, the seal of the Elder Seedseer. Please proceed.

Raubahn: Ah, a guest from Gridania. I thought I smelled leaf mold. Raubahn: I won't hold it against you. If you're half the warrior Kan-E says, 'tis a wonder you don't reek of dead Ixal. Raubahn: Welcome to the sultanate of Ul'dah. I am Raubahn Aldynn, General of the Immortal Flames. Raubahn: But you did not come all this way to trade formalities. Raubahn: ...Carteneau. Aye, I remember bloody Carteneau. Raubahn: Do you know what happened that day, adventurer? When we took the field against the Garleans? Raubahn: So my counterparts have educated you. Raubahn: Hm? Oh. Trust Merlwyb to make light of our wolf problem. Woman always did have a black sense of humor. Raubahn: Wolves are bloodthirsty beasts upon which one cannot turn one's back. 'Tis only a matter of time before they bite. Raubahn: So it was with the Garleans, fifty years ago. Raubahn: No sooner had they learned how to use magitek than they began seizing territory from their neighbors. Raubahn: Led by then legatus Solus zos Galvus, they swiftly brought the other nations of Ilsabard to heel. And so the legatus became an emperor, and his republic an empire... Raubahn: An empire which then set its sights upon Eorzea. Eline Roaille: But the conquering emperor is now an old man of four score winters. His health is failing, and he has no clear successor. Like as not, this is why the Garleans have been quiet of late. Raubahn: But the XIVth Imperial Legion is still entrenched within our borders. Raubahn: And their commander, Legatus Gaius van Baelsar, has long harbored ambitions of conquest. Raubahn: Were he to strike now, I fear we would fall like so many others before us. And not only Ul'dah, but Gridania and Limsa Lominsa as well. Raubahn: For the Calamity brought the lot of us to our knees, and we've yet to get up. We barely have the strength to stand against the beast tribes, never mind the primals they mean to summon. Raubahn: We are a realm divided, adventurer. An alliance in name only. Raubahn: But the wolf cares not for the plight of its prey. Raubahn: The Garleans stir, and the Admiral would not let it go unnoticed. Raubahn: All other concerns pale in comparison to the Empire─even the beast tribes and their bloody primals. Raubahn: We must stand united once more, that much is clear. And if we're to do so, we must remember the cause which last brought us together. Kan-E will have her memorial. Raubahn: We will honor the memory of the fallen. We will remind the people what their brothers and sisters fought and died for. Eline Roaille: Shall I inform the sultana and the Syndicate? Raubahn: I will speak with Her Grace myself. Eline Roaille: Very good, sir. Raubahn: The Elder Seedseer will have my reply anon. Raubahn: My thanks to you, adventurer.

Call of the Sea The serpent officer has information that may be of interest to you.

Baderon: Welcome to the Drownin' Wench! Sit wherever ye like, lass. I'll be with ye in a─ Baderon: Hm? Aye, I'm Baderon, all right. Who's askin'? Baderon: Ah, 'eard as I've got a job fer a capable 'venturer, ye say? Well, yer bloody right! Baderon: Just so yer fairly warned, though, this ain't no job fer the faint of 'eart. Things're liable to get downright bleedin' 'airy. But if ye think yer still interested, let me know, an' I'll fill ye in on the details.

A Realm Reborn (2.0) (Ul'dah Starter Quests)

??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... ??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... Feel... ??? (Hydaelyn): Hear... Feel... Think...

??? (Brendt): ...Hey. Hey, you! Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): Y'all right, lass? Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): You were moanin' somethin' fierce for a while there. Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): Feelin' the effects of the aether, I reckon. Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): You'll get used to it, though, don't worry. Brass Blade Captain: You there─halt! Carriage Driver: What's all this about!? Brass Blade Captain: Inspection! Men, search the carriage! Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): I'm just an honest peddler, friend. So, er...don't be too disappointed if you don't find nothin', eh? Brass Blade: Mind your tongue, old man, lest I cut it out! Brass Blade: Sir, look! Somnus! Brass Blade Captain: Honest peddler, was it? Since when do honest peddlers deal in prohibited herbs? Brass Blade Captain: You're in a lot of trouble, old man. You'll rot in a dungeon till the end of your days...unless you can afford the fine. Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): Heh, business as usual... Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): Uwaaah! Brass Blade Runner: Amalj'aa! Amalj'aa! To arms! To arms! Brass Blade Captain: Seven hells... Consider this a warning! Now go─all of you!

Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): Phew... That kind of excitement ain't good for the heart. Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): You be careful 'round them Brass Blades, lass. Bastards'll have the shirt off your back if they fancy it. Like common bandits, they are, only less honest. Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): Thank the gods for sendin' some beastmen to the rescue, eh!? Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): Hey, seein' as we've still got a long ride ahead, you mind keepin' me company till we arrive? Grizzled Passenger (Brendt): Them young'uns don't much care for conversation, see. Brendt: Brendt's the name, an' peddlin's me trade. Brendt: An' judgin' by your unusual garments, I'll wager you're one of them new adventurers. Brendt: I knew it! Goin' wherever the wind blows, seekin' fortune an' glory─now that's what I call livin'! Brendt: So long as you can avoid dyin', I mean. Ain't no secret that adventurin's a risky business─these days especially. Brendt: What was it that first attracted you to it?

Why did you become an adventurer?
To gain power. Brendt: ...Power? As in, er...power to do good? Like protectin' the weak, an' fightin' for what's right, an' all that? Aye, I thought that's what you meant. Well, adventurers do get up to a lot of fightin', that's for sure. You'll never be short of a chance to polish your warcraft in the adventurin' business. Brendt: When you arrive in town, you'd best enroll at the Adventurers' Guild─they'll set you on the right path. Brendt: An' it wouldn't hurt to join a guild, neither. Brendt: Ul'dah's home to a few, so if you fancy learnin' how to fight with a sword, your fists, or even spells, you should think about seekin' one out.
To win glory. Brendt: Glory, eh? Well, if you're willin' to take on them tasks as other folk ain't, an adventurer such as yourself can win fame what coin can't buy. Brendt: When you arrive in town, you'll want to report to the Adventurers' Guild. Brendt: You can find out everythin' you need to know about the adventurin' business in there.
To amass a fortune. Brendt: Fortune, eh? Heh heh! Then I reckon you'll fit right in where we're goin'! Brendt: Once you've learned to handle yourself in a fight, you'll want to pay a visit to whichever craftin' or gatherin' guild tickles your fancy. Brendt: An' there're plenty to choose from, too. Whether it be weavin', alchemy, goldsmithin', or minin' that interests you, Ul'dah's got a place where you can learn your trade. Brendt: Adventurin' ain't just about killin' things, after all. A peaceful pastime may well help you make your fortune!
... Brendt: Well, if you ain't inclined to tell, I ain't about to pry. Might be as ol' Brendt's a chatterbox, but he sure as hells ain't no busybody. Brendt: We all have a secret or three, don't we? Me? Dozens. Brendt: An' I'd rather they stayed secret, too─which is why I don't go stickin' me nose where it ain't welcome.

Brendt: Just remember, though: there're more important things than fortune an' glory. Such as breathin'. Ain't no profit in bein' dead, an' that's a fact. Brendt: By the by, is this your first trip to Ul'dah?

Is this your first trip to Ul'dah?
Yes. Brendt: It is!? Well then, let this journeyed itinerant tell you the ins an' outs of your destination.
No. Brendt: But of course it ain't! Still, might be as this journeyed itinerant has a few new things to teach you about your destination. Ahem!

Brendt: Ul'dah's ruled by the sultana in name, but as most folk know, the Syndicate holds all the real power. Brendt: Them and their Monetarist cronies would happily get rid of Her Grace altogether, but that won't happen while she still commands the loyalty of the Royalists─an' the Royalists are nothin' if not loyal. Brendt: These factions have long fought over power, throwin' the weight of their wealth against each other, an' they show no sign of stoppin'. Brendt: 'Course the lizardmen─that's the Amalj'aa─couldn't care less about Ul'dahn politics. They have their own interests, see─an' they ain't afraid to use force to serve 'em. Brendt: They say war is a gift to peddlers─need breedin' profit─an' though it shames me to say it, I'm inclined to agree... Brendt: Ah, at long last. Brendt: Behold Ul'dah, jewel of Thanalan, where folk turn sand into gold!

Louisoix: Deep in the sunbaked south, surrounded by the shifting sands of an endless desert, she rises. Louisoix: A solitary rose amidst the dust and rock. A symbol of defiance. Her name: Ul'dah. Louisoix: Even with the coming of the Seventh Umbral Era, hope springs eternal for the mongers and merchants who vie for lost fortunes in this bustling oasis. Louisoix: As the Twin Faces of Nald'thal maintain their vigil over all that has been and shall be, the present proffers a brave soul... Louisoix: One whose arrival could mark the beginning of a new era of prosperity for the realm. Brendt: An' here's where we part ways, lass. Brendt: I'm off to the markets to deliver me wares, then it's on to the highroad for me. Brendt: Here, I want you to have this─by way of thanks for puttin' up with me prattle. Brendt: You never did tell me your name, though. Hey, but here's an idea... Brendt: Become the sort of storied personage I can brag about havin' met, an' I'll consider us square. Louisoix: May the Traders nurture our fortunes as They kindle the flames which burn within us all. Louisoix: For by fire are we reborn. Final Fantasy XIV

??? (Wymond): Oi, 'venturer! Over here! ??? (Wymond): Aye, I mean you. ??? (Wymond): Fresh off the carriage, by any chance? Eh? How can I tell? Heh! Wymond: Name's Wymond, an' my business is knowin' every bugger else's! Wymond: Now then, what if I was to offer you some invaluable advice by way of welcome to our fair city? Free of charge, even─just this once, like.

Coming to Ul'dah To be recognized as an adventurer in the city–state of Ul'dah, you must register yourself with the Adventurers' Guild.

Wymond: 'Tis plain to anyone with eyes that you don't know your way around here. Wymond: If I let you go wanderin' off down the nearest dark alley, you're certain to get mugged or worse, an' I don't want that on my conscience. Wymond: So before you do anythin' else, you'll want to head over to the Quicksand, an' speak with Momodi. She's the master of the Adventurers' Guild, an' can set you on the right path. Wymond: Just take those steps over yonder an' pass through the double doors. You'll find her inside. Wymond: ...An' that's as much as you're gettin' for free. Good luck with the adventurin', adventurer.

Momodi: Why, hello there! Who might you be? Momodi: If you're lookin' to join the Adventurers' Guild, you've come to the right place. Momodi: Name's Momodi, and I own this fine establishment, if it please you. Momodi: I also manage the Adventurers' Guild here in Ul'dah. So you might say that lookin' after green adventurers like yourself is my vocation. Momodi: And lucky for you that it is. Without someone like me to steer you right, you'd soon find yourself out in the middle of nowhere, caught up in business you don't understand. Momodi: Like our conflict with the Amalj'aa, for example. They've been plaguin' the sultanate for nigh on, oooh...forever now. Momodi: Then there's the Garlean Empire. None can say for sure what they're plottin' these days, only that they are. Momodi: Aye, the people drink and make merry...but underneath it all, there's worry. Worry and a lingerin' feelin' of loss. Momodi: And little wonder. It's scarce been five years since the lesser moon cracked open like a giant egg, releasin' an abomination intent on turnin' the realm into an eighth hell... Momodi: So much was lost in the blink of an eye. 'Twas like the end of the world had come at last. Momodi: But then things begin to get foggy. Everyone's got their own version of what happened next─some of 'em, two or three... Momodi: You'd think people would remember somethin' like that─but the fact is, they don't. Nobody does. Momodi: There is one thing the survivors agree on, though: the part played by a band of adventurers who laid down their lives for a realm that wasn't their own. Momodi: They fought valiantly, and like so many others, they never returned. Deeds worth rememberin', I'm sure you'll agree. It's just a shame our recollections of those brave heroes are as jumbled as those of the Calamity itself. Momodi: Whenever we try to call their faces to mind, it's like they're standin' between us and the midday sun, permanently silhouetted... I'll bet that sounds poetic to you, doesn't it? Well it's not. It's bloody infuriatin'. Momodi: But even if we can't remember them, we'll not let 'em be forgotten, and so we call 'em the Warriors of Light. Momodi: And they'll forever stand as a shinin' example of what adventurers can achieve. That's why I welcome new arrivals like yourself to our fair city. Momodi: All I ask is that you lend a helpin' hand, and try to leave Ul'dah in a better state than you found her. If you can promise that, I'd be happy to let you join the guild. Momodi: All right, then! A promise is a promise, now! Momodi: I'm countin' on your help to put the past behind us. We need people workin' and spendin' and bickerin' like the old days! Momodi: And a happy and prosperous Ul'dah means more business for the Quicksand, too! Momodi: Anyroad, let's make this official. Momodi: Go ahead and write your name in the register─neat as you can. Momodi: ...Forename Surname. Well, ain't that a charmin' name. Just rolls off the tongue, it does. Momodi: All right, Miss Surname! On behalf of the Adventurers' Guild, I officially─ Gullible Gambler: Please, sir, be merciful! Twelve as my witness, I swear to you, I'll bring you your money! Debt Collector: In the East, it is said that even a merciful god might be driven to vengeance if thrice blasphemed. Debt Collector: Be grateful you were given a fourth chance to offend. You two, attend to this scum. Gullible Gambler: No, please! Mercy! Momodi: Well, ain't that a sorry sight. Nor an uncommon one, if I'm honest. Don't worry, though─if you work hard, I doubt you'll end up like him. Momodi: Just the same, if you ever need a bit of advice about one thing or another, pay me a visit. Just don't go botherin' me every time you stub your bloody toe, all right? Momodi: 'Course, I do enjoy hearin' a lady muse on the many manhoods of her acquaintance from time to time... Momodi: Anyroad, welcome to Ul'dah, Forename! Momodi: Take a moment to catch your breath, and I'll teach you a little about our fair city.

Close to Home Momodi, the proprietress of the Quicksand, wants you to perform three tasks that will help you learn the fundamentals of adventuring.

Momodi: Before you go chargin' off to find your fortune, I've a few basic tasks I'd like you to perform so as to help you get to know the place. Momodi: First of all, I want you to visit the aetheryte plaza. To get there, head west from here till you reach Emerald Avenue, then look to the north. You should see a giant, floatin' crystal called an aetheryte. Momodi: If it weren't for aetherytes, travelin' around Eorzea would be a damn sight more troublesome than it is. 'Course, you still need to attune with 'em before you can use 'em, so be sure to do that with the one in the plaza. You ever attuned with an aetheryte before, Forename? If not, just lay your hand on the thing and you'll see what I mean. Momodi: When you've done that, I want you to pay a visit to the Thaumaturges' Guild, over at Arrzaneth Ossuary. Momodi: Assumin' that scepter ain't just for show, you might consider trainin' there. Momodi: And finally, I want you to visit the Sapphire Avenue Exchange, over on the Steps of Thal. Momodi: Goods from all across Eorzea and beyond turn up there every day. You'll have no trouble findin' armor, weapons, or anythin' else a fledglin' adventurer like yourself might need. Momodi: You might say that everythin's for sale here in Ul'dah─as long as you've got the gil. Momodi: Just make sure as you don't pay more than you ought, Forename. Momodi: There's plenty as won't scruple to swindle unsuspectin' foreigners like yourself, 'specially if they think no one's lookin' out for their best interests. Momodi: Which is why I'm givin' you this letter. When you visit the exchange, find a gentleman named Seseroga and give it to him. He'll be happy to tell you about the markets once he's read it. Momodi: In short, then: visit the aetheryte plaza, the Thaumaturges' Guild, and the Sapphire Avenue Exchange. Simple. Momodi: Oh, but before you go, a word of advice: while there're more than a few unsavory characters out there who'll try to take advantage of you, there are also some with honest-to-goodness problems who you should consider offerin' a helpin' hand to. Momodi: A lot of folk are lured to this city by the promise of wealth and power. What many of 'em fail to realize is that instead of chasin' after gil the moment they get here, they ought to be makin' friends. Momodi: Let it be known that you're willin' to give as much as you get, and opportunities will come your way. Momodi: Speakin' of which, you should speak with the Smith over yonder─those lads always have some good advice for up-and-comin' adventurers. Otherwise, that's about it from me. It's past time you got goin'. Oh, and let me know when you've finished, will you? That way, I won't spend my days worryin' that you're down to your smallclothes without a gil to your name.

Nenebaru: Hail, adventurer! Might you have come at the behest of Miss Momodi of the Quicksand? Nenebaru: Excellent. Which brings us to the matter of the attunement fee─that will be one hundred thousand gil, if you please, madam. Nenebaru: ...AHAHAHAHAHA! Apologies, but I do so relish the opportunity to make that jest. The look on your face was absolutely priceless! Ah, but the fact that you were so easily deceived suggests to me that you are unfamiliar with the use of aetherytes. Allow me to explain. Nenebaru: These crystalline agglomerations tap into aetherial energies, and are primarily used as a means to travel swiftly from one place to another. Nenebaru: Perchance you have heard of Return and Teleport? Well, these transportation spells make direct use of the aetherytes and their connection to the flow of aether. Nenebaru: Given that there is an aetheryte in almost every corner of Eorzea, any adventurer with a mind to explore the realm will wish to seek out and attune herself to each and every one! Nenebaru: But even if you have no intention of wandering beyond the sultanate's borders, it would be prudent for you to attune yourself to any aetherytes you encounter from now on. Nenebaru: I pray you found that informative. Should you wish to learn more about aetherytes or transportation magic, I should be happy to answer your questions.

Yayake: Welcome to the Thaumaturges' Guild. It is fate that has guided your steps here this day, friend. I see that you harbor arcane ambitions...though your journey has scarcely begun. Yayake: Within these hallowed halls, the arts of devastation are taught─primeval magicks with which to bring about an enemy's ruin. Yayake: If you would join our ranks and wield such power, you must needs know of our beginnings. Yayake: The nation of Ul'dah inherited its traditions from ancient Belah'dia, a city founded by the descendants of the first mages. Yayake: The secrets of these illustrious sorcerers were ultimately entrusted to the priests of the Order of Nald'thal, who have passed them down from generation to generation ever since. Yayake: Focused and refined over centuries of use in the Order's funereal rites, the arcane magicks of our ancestors eventually emerged as the art we now know as thaumaturgy. Yayake: A freezing blizzard to halt corruption; a raging fire to cleanse the corpse; a bolt of lightning to expel the sins of mortal life... The dweomers employed in the preparation of the dead are equally efficacious when applied to the living. Yayake: It is for this reason that we are feared and respected in equal measure. Thus does our guild thrive, ensconced in the catacombs of Arrzaneth Ossuary─a sanctuary devoted to Thal, divine arbiter of the afterlife. Yayake: What say you, then, adventurer? If you would plumb the abyssal depths of thaumaturgy, let our learned sages guide your descent! Yayake: Ah, but before you leap into the darkness, you must prove to our guildmasters that you are possessed of the spiritual fortitude necessary to look upon that which waits therein. When you are ready to submit to the judgment of our most eminent mages, say the word.

Yayake: Well, adventurer? Will you join our guild, or do you presume to ignore the urgings of impatient destiny? Yayake: A wise decision, indeed. To prepare for your initiation, I would have you study the volumes of fundamental thaumaturgical principle. All one hundred and eight of them. Yayake: ...Or at least, I would if such requirements had not been abolished. “Too great a deterrent to fresh novices,” they said. I suppose you shall just have to settle for calling upon the collective wisdom of our guildmasters. Yayake: We have five, you see─all brothers of the same house. Though they all wield supreme authority, it is the eldest who provides a singular voice for the guild when one is required. Master Coco... Cocoby...? Cocobygo! ...I believe.

Seseroga: And you are?
...Ho, a newly come adventurer. But of course. Yes, I am Seseroga. What can I do for you? Seseroga: Ah, you would have me teach you the ways of the marketplace? Very wise. As for my fee... What? You expect me to do it for free!? Surely you jest. Seseroga: My dear adventurer, when you ask an Ul'dahn for a favor, you should at least try to make it worth his while. Judging by your garb, I rather doubt you could afford my services, but the fact you offer nothing is laughable.

Letter of Introduction A slip of bound parchment entrusted to you by Quicksand proprietress Momodi Modi.

Seseroga: Oh. Mistress Momodi instructed you to seek me out, did she? Hmph. Consider yourself fortunate to have such influential friends. Seseroga: I shall be brief, and you shall be attentive. Seseroga: You stand in the Sapphire Avenue Exchange, the busiest and most profitable marketplace in the sultanate. Seseroga: Being advantageously situated in relation to the other city-states, Ul'dah's markets have ever served as both the literal and figurative centers of Eorzean commerce. Seseroga: All the great overland trade routes lead to our city, and the majority of maritime trade between Vylbrand and Aldenard passes through our ports. Seseroga: Because of this, countless companies and consortia have chosen Ul'dah as their base of operations. They see to it that this marketplace is awash with merchants and moneylenders, day and night. Seseroga: Anything a man could ever desire can be purchased here─provided as he has sufficient funds. Seseroga: Surely there's something you seek, adventurer? A deadlier sword, perhaps, or a shinier trinket? Whatever it is you want, the exchange will have it. Seseroga: To the north, you will find merchants peddling armor and accessories, curatives and crafting materials. Seseroga: And to the south, you will find weapons, tools, and an assortment of other useful items for sale. Seseroga: Seek out a particular merchant, or browse to your heart's content. But do try to remain aloof should you find something that piques your interest. Decisions made in the heat of the moment are usually unwise, especially where coin is concerned. Seseroga: Ahem. That is all the complimentary aid you shall have from me─and far too much for my taste. Seseroga: My regards to Momodi. Now, off with you!

Momodi: How was your tour of the city, Forename? Get lost, did you? Momodi: Aye, well, Ul'dah's a big place with lots to see and do─but wanderin' around aimlessly don't pay the bills. If you're serious about makin' a livin' here, you'll need to remember where things are. Momodi: So when you go explorin', explore like you've got a purpose, eh? Momodi: All right, then! All that's left is for you to work hard, make money, and spend it here at the Quicksand!

We Must Rebuild Momodi of the Quicksand wants to introduce you to a certain someone at the Ul'dah Dispatch Yard.

Momodi: Well, younglin', how are you findin' our fine Ul'dah, then? Got your bearin's about you yet? Momodi: If so, mayhap it's time you ventured beyond the city walls. The bustlin' streets of Ul'dah are one thing, but the wilds of Thanalan─that's another altogether. Momodi: I know a bloke you might fancy speakin' to, and he you. Name of Papashan. You'll find him over at the Ul'dah Dispatch Yard. No doubt he'll have some work for you. Momodi: The Dispatch Yard's over in central Thanalan. Just head out the door across the hall and you'll see the Gate of Nald staring right back at you. Pass through it and head east. You'll come upon it 'fore long. Momodi: There's dangers beyond the wall, though. More than I'd care to count. Nothin' too terrible, mind you, but feisty enough to attack if you draw near. Don't say nobody cared enough to warn you.

Papashan: Well, you certainly look the part of an adventurer, my friend. Might you be the good soul Momodi advised me to expect, hm? Papashan: I am Papashan, stationmaster of this humble Dispatch Yard. Papashan: An empty title, I assure you. I truly am no more than a tired old Lalafell passing his final years in quiet and solitude. Papashan: Twelve know there have been plenty of both these last five years since the Calamity struck. The devastation...was vast. Papashan: Yet now true Ul'dahns work together, doing all in our power to rebuild what was laid to ruin. By the sweat of our brows and the love of our home, we have rebuilt Ul'dah to the grandeur and majesty that you see today. Papashan: The railways which run through this Dispatch Yard, too, were born of the noble efforts of a great many souls. Papashan: But there is still much work to be done. The wounds left by the Calamity run deep. Isolated areas beyond our lines of supply remain, and there are places yet wanting for relief and restoration. Papashan: Ul'dah needs the aid of you and your brethren, friend. In fact, never has our need been more dire. Papashan: Which brings me to the point, I suppose. I do believe I may have some work suited to one of your ability.

Nothing to See Here Stationmaster Papashan has a simple task for a fledgling adventurer.

Papashan: Since you've come all this way, perhaps you can perform an errand for me. Papashan: It just so happens a number of sentries have been sent to guard the area. A dispatch to the Dispatch Yard, as it were. Papashan: They have long been away from the shade and featherbeds of the city. The hot days and cold nights can play hells on the mind and body out here. Papashan: It isn't much, but go and give them these twilight pretzels, would you? I find comfort food always helps when I feel like killing myself.

Serious Sultansworn: Halt! Madam, I'm going to have to ask you to put the pretzel on the ground and place your hands above your head!

Twilight Pretzel A traditional Dunesfolk bread twisted into the shape of a knot and sprinkled generously with coarse-ground salt before being baked to a perfect brown resembling twilight over Thanalan.

Serious Sultansworn: State your name and business! A twilight pretzel from Papashan? By the gods, forgive me! You could say this new post has my nerves in a...twist. Serious Sultansworn: I'm...I'm terribly sorry for that. Ahem, yes, well, you may rest assured that the Dispatch Yard is safe so long as I stand watch. Serious Sultansworn: Please give Papashan my thanks, and tell him that I only wish I could repay the favor...

Servile Sultansworn: Twelve save me. Scorching days... Freezing nights... This post will be the end of me.

Servile Sultansworn: A twilight pretzel? Don't mind if I do! Servile Sultansworn: Ahhh, now that's a refreshing godsdamned pretzel! I feel reborn!

Stern Sultansworn: Western front, clear! Eastern front, clear!

Stern Sultansworn: For me? From Papashan? A twilight pretzel... My favorite! How did he know!? Stern Sultansworn: Can't fight on an empty stomach, now, can I? Actually...I can't fight on any stomach. I suppose you could say I have no stomach...for fighting.

Papashan: You've returned─and with a deal fewer pretzels, I see! Tell me, how fare our Sultansworn sentries? Did they have anything to report, anything at all!? Papashan: What? Nothing? Are you sure? I...oh, oh dear. Papashan: Take this for your troubles, then. And stay a moment─there is more I would ask of you.

Underneath the Sultantree Papashan is in dire need of your assistance.

Papashan: Forename, I have just this moment─ No! No, the time for concealment is past! The truth is, even before I had you deliver those pretzels, I was privy to some most unsettling news! Papashan: ...Which is the real reason I sent you to meet those Sultansworn. Papashan: A young noblewoman from a very prestigious family has run away from home, and I have been ordered to see to her safe return. Papashan: The Sultansworn you met earlier are assisting with the search. Alas, it seems they have found no trace of her. Papashan: I apologize for not being frank with you from the start, but we must proceed with caution─should word of her disappearance spread, I fear others with less honorable motives may join the hunt. Papashan: And should we allow her to come to any harm, not even a hundred beheadings would be punishment enough... Papashan: That cannot happen, Forename. It must not! Papashan: I need you to help me find her! Papashan: Praise the Twelve, I knew I could count on you! Papashan: I've instructed the others to expand the search, but Thanalan is vast and there are only so many of us. Papashan: The young noblewoman's name is Lady Lilira. I want you to go south and look for her in the vicinity of the Sultantree. Good luck!

Hooded Lalafell (Nanamo): O Sultantree...

Lilira (Nanamo): O Sultantree, hallowed spirit of my line, forgive my weakness. My failings have cost us dear... Lilira (Nanamo): Show yourself! ??? (Thancred): As you command, O Lilira. ??? (Thancred): Forgive my selfish desire to assure your welfare. Lilira (Nanamo): I don't recall requesting an escort! Simply pretend we never met and continue on your way. ??? (Thancred): We both know I can do no such thing. It isn't safe for you here alone. ??? (Thancred): It isn't safe for anyone─not with this aetheric disturbance... It's as though the dead are watching us... ??? (Thancred): And I'd prefer not to join them, if it's all the same to you. ??? (Thancred): Ah, you must be the one that Papashan mentioned. Congratulations on finding our elusive young charge. ??? (Thancred): You'll have to forgive Her Impetuousness. What she lacks in discipline, she makes up for in stubbornness. ??? (Thancred): You should return with us. The stationmaster will be eager to thank Lady Lilira's protector in person. ??? (Thancred): Alas, the stationmaster will have to wait. ??? (Thancred): Dear Lilira, for my sake, please stay out of harm's way. ??? (Thancred): As for you, dear friend─for Lilira's sake─please stay in harm's way!

Handsome Stranger (Thancred): Come, let's attend to our uninvited guest! Handsome Stranger (Thancred): Lovely, it brought friends! Handsome Stranger (Thancred): Leave the big one to me! You handle the rest! Handsome Stranger (Thancred): Stay close if you want me to heal you! Handsome Stranger (Thancred): More of them!? Really now, there are limits to our hospitality! Handsome Stranger (Thancred): Just a little more...

??? (Thancred): Ah, coming around now. Lilira (Nanamo): Would you mind telling me what that was? ??? (Thancred): If I only knew. A denizen of the void, at any rate. Lilira (Nanamo): The voidsent? Here? But how? ??? (Thancred): The question isn't “how,” but “who”─we're not dealing with bookless bandits. ??? (Thancred): Don't suppose the answer came to you in a dream? ??? (Thancred): No sooner did you fell the beast than you fell asleep. Too much aether, no doubt. ??? (Thancred): Interesting... I hadn't considered the Crystal. ??? (Thancred): But of course... This changes everything. ??? (Thancred): Hm? Oh, just thinking aloud. At any rate, we haven't a moment to spare. I must return and report this at once. ??? (Thancred): I leave Lady Lilira in your capable hands! Lilira (Nanamo): How dare you pass me about like a swaddled babe! Lilira (Nanamo): I shall return and tell them myself! ??? (Thancred): As you wish, Your Impetuousness. ??? (Thancred): I suspect we shall meet again before long. ??? (Thancred): Until then, do try and stay awake!

Papashan: Thank the gods you've returned! You had us all so worried! Papashan: You do realize what would happen if a person of your noble stature were to be injured─or worse? Papashan: Why, Her Grace the sultana would be beside herself with grief─and so would her subjects! I daresay they'd be weeping in the streets! Lilira (Nanamo): But I have already given you cause to weep, Papashan...you and the people of Ul'dah... Papashan: Please, Your─ You're not to say such things! We will find it, I swear to you! Papashan: It is not my place to make demands, m-my lady, but I beg you, please stay out of harm's way. Lilira (Nanamo): ...I apologize for causing you undue worry, Papashan. I shall refrain from traveling unescorted in future. Papashan: I cannot thank you enough, Forename! Papashan: I understand you fought bravely to protect Lady Lilira from voidsent fiends. Papashan: For your gallant service, you deserve all the riches in the royal vaults. Alas, a small token of my gratitude is the best I can offer. Papashan: ...Hm? A sarcastic man with a strange contraption strapped to his shoulder? Papashan: I see you met Thancred. He's a scholar who spends his days investigating oddities in the aether. Rather too fond of the sound of his own voice for my liking, but perfectly harmless. Papashan: As for you, Forename─you're just the sort of adventurer we need around here. Papashan: I pray you show the same kindness to the people of Thanalan as you did to us today.

Step Nine Cicidoa needs a reliable adventurer to deliver a gift to the Coffer & Coffin.

Cicidoa: You're an adventurer, yes? If you're not otherwise occupied, I've a favor to ask. I've resolved to repay a debt of gratitude, which I owe to the owner of the Coffer & Coffin. Cicidoa: For this purpose, I've purchased from the Royal Plantations a prodigiously plump pumpkin─a particularly popular piece of produce. Cicidoa: Alas, I cannot part this place to procure and proffer the pumpkin. You see, the scheduled shipment from the Nanawa Mines, for which I wait, is late. Cicidoa: I would prevail upon you to pick up the pumpkin in my stead, and see it safely to the Coffer & Coffin. Present this receipt of purchase to Gagari at the Royal Plantations, and she will yield it to you. Cicidoa: I apologize for asking you to attend to this time-consuming task, but I truly appreciate your assistance!

Gagari: If Cicidoa doesn't come calling soon, this spectacular specimen shall sadly be past its prime...

Receipt of Purchase Exchange this slip at the Royal Plantations for one ripe pumpkin.

Gagari: Oh, so you're to deliver this decadent delight? I can say with confidence that any gourmand would be grateful for such a grand gift. Gagari: Here is the pumpkin. I hope it meets with Roger's approval. Gagari: Fresh produce is somewhat scarce in these parts, and as such we are always deluged with demand. Gagari: You know the way to the Coffer & Coffin, correct? It is beyond the bridge to the northwest. Look for a place where local laborers lounge.

Roger: Drink fer ye, lassie? Ye won't get better ale or spirits fer yer coin than at me place.

Plantation Pumpkin It is believed that after eating pumpkin for the first time, the sultana fell in love with the nutty flavor and ordered all her royal plantations grow the vegetable.

Roger: What's that? Wee Cicidoa asked ye to bring this here to me? Ha! Heh, so even that foul-mouthed drunk knows the meanin' o' remorse. Reckon this is fer the time I carried his drink-sodden arse back home. Roger: But hells, an honest-to-gods pumpkin from the Royal Plantations! I can't wait to see what the cooks'll do with her. Roger: The lads here scoff down beastly amounts o' meat, an' it's startin' to tell on their health. It'll be good to get more vegetables in their bellies─assumin' I can get the stubborn bastards to try somethin' new. Thanks fer the help, lassie!

Prudence at This Junction Roger hears all sorts of information in his line of work, some of which may be useful to you.

Roger: Word is, Black Brush Station's sorely undermanned. The Stone Torches there can't get a moment's peace. Roger: Bloke by the name o' Warin is hopin' to bolster their numbers for a short-term assignment or two. If you fancy puttin' a few extra gil in yer pocket, you could do a lot worse.

Warin: Looking for work, perchance? If so, you couldn't have come at a better time. Warin: We Stone Torches are sellswords hired by Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern to protect its interests. Our primary duty here is to keep the tracks clear of pests, and it is for this purpose that we require your aid. Warin: I should point out, however, that it can be messy work, and liable to get messier still if you're ill prepared. Warin: A single piece of gear can mean the difference between life and death. I'll not have it on my conscience that I sent an ill-equipped adventurer to an untimely demise. Warin: See to it that your arms and armor are in order. When you are ready, present yourself to me again.

Warin: So you are ready for inspection? Warin: Good. Everything appears in order. Warin: Yet know that naught is guaranteed in this world. Fate is a fickle mistress, after all. At any rate, capable adventurers like you are few and far between, and I would not have you throw your life away. Warin: I have had to bury too many comrades who brushed aside cracks in their hauberks and dints in their helms. No matter what you face, do not disregard the importance of gear.

Out of House and Home Warin has work for an adventurer willing to exterminate the coblyns attacking ore wagons.

Warin: Let's get to it then, shall we? Warin: Ore wagons pass through this station every day─but not without incident. Warin: Wagons coming and going from the Dispatch Yard to the south must pass through a tunnel by Fesca's Watch─a tunnel in which some genius saw fit to put an ore storehouse, creating ideal conditions for a coblyn nest! Warin: So now the ore-loving beasts have taken up residence in a tunnel we dug, and we're practically delivering meals to their doorstep! Warin: But no more. Inside the tunnel in question, you will find a narrow fissure where the coblyns hide. Use this silver ore cluster to lure out the creatures, then slay them.

Silver Ore Cluster Several chunks of silver which have grown together to form a sizable cluster.

Etfled: Looking for Black Brush Station? Well, you've found it. This is where the wagonloads of ore from the Nanawa Mines end up. Etfled: The raw materials are refined inside. With the furnace blazing away in there, the air becomes so stiflingly hot... I much prefer to wait on the shipments out here. Warin: Well done! It shan't be easy work to keep the tunnel free of coblyns, but our wagons should be able to go unmolested for a time. Warin: Disruptions to ore shipments threaten not only the interests of Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern, but of Ul'dah herself. One might liken these train tracks to veins that bear our nation's lifeblood. Warin: If only we had more women like you to lend a hand.

Way Down in the Hole Zuzumeda wishes to share with you a most amazing rumor.

Zuzumeda: Ah, the altruistic adventurer! I was hoping we'd bump into each other. Why? Because the most fascinating piece of news recently reached my ears, and I'm eager to share it! May I? Zuzumeda: Rumor has it that there is a vast, untapped vein of ore beneath the ruins of Sil'dih. Zuzumeda: But that is not all! Inconceivably, the Concern appears to be entirely ignorant of its existence. And even as we speak, a young upstart─a self-made merchant from Stonesthrow of all places─is moving to claim it! Zuzumeda: The fellow's name is Wystan, and he is a very, very ambitious young man. Not only does he intend to secure exclusive excavation rights, but they say his master plan is to use his new fortune to curry favor with the Sacrarium. Zuzumeda: Of course, the thaumaturges only consider the opinions of the most wealthy when drafting the laws of Ul'dah. If you would have your voice heard, you must be prepared to pay a sultan's ransom. Zuzumeda: One voice which is invariably heard belongs to Lord Lolorito. He has long lavished gil upon the thaumaturges, and some claim that he devises new laws with the express intention of ruining his competitors while protecting his own interests. Zuzumeda: Suffice it to say, if Wystan thinks he can compete with the likes of the Syndicate, he's in for a rude awakening. But that eventuality may yet be a little way off. For the present, he is moving ahead with his plans, and assembling a team to survey the site. Zuzumeda: I'm told he's at the Coffer & Coffin right now, recruiting able-bodied adventurers to escort his prospectors. Zuzumeda: Warin said you were looking for work. Mayhap you should meet Wystan and volunteer for his expedition?

Wystan: Come to join? Sorry, but you're too late. Wystan: Some Brass Blades looking for extra coin volunteered, and the team's already en route to the ruins. Wystan: But look, I know it's not easy to find work these days. If you're interested, there's something else you can do for me. Wystan: There are these children outside─little ones from Stonesthrow. I look after them when I've time to spare, and so they've taken to following me around, even when I tell them not to. Wystan: But what with overseeing the search for the vein, I barely have a chance to visit the privy at the moment, much less entertain younglings. Can you give them these ginger cookies and convince them to go home for me?

Starveling Child: I ain't goin' nowhere, missus! I'm too hungry to move, besides, so you'll have to carry me!

Crumbling Ginger Cookie Straight from good Wystan's pocket. (Don't mind the lint.)

Starveling Child: A cookie!? ...Well, if Wystan really wants me to go home, then all right. But I want two next time!

Starveling Child: But Wystan always plays with us! Why won't he come out and play?

Crumbling Ginger Cookie Straight from good Wystan's pocket. (Don't mind the lint.)

Starveling Child: Wow, a ginger cookie! I'd better save some for my brother. I know─I'll go home and eat it with him!

Starveling Child: Wystan's kind to us. I like him.

Crumbling Ginger Cookie Straight from good Wystan's pocket. (Don't mind the lint.)

Starveling Child: This is for me? I want to eat it, but then again I don't, because then it'd be gone. Starveling Child: Tell Wystan thanks, and...tell him I'm sorry for getting in the way.

Starveling Child: I like playing with Wystan. He makes sure no one bullies us.

Crumbling Ginger Cookie Straight from good Wystan's pocket. (Don't mind the lint.)

Starveling Child: Wystan's worried about us? Oh, I don't want to make him worried. I'm a good girl, so I'll go home.

Wystan: Thank you, adventurer. I only wish I could do more. Stonesthrow is no place for a child. Wystan: ...Not that my childhood was much happier. Never enough food to go around, nor work to earn it─but no shortage of contempt from the great and the good. Wystan: I remember thinking things could only get better... Yet now, after the Calamity and everything else...for us refugees to be forced to live outside the gates like bloody beastmen is a disgrace. Wystan: They say with enough money you can change the laws here. So I'm going to make a fortune and do just that! Wystan: I'll buy the excavation rights and start my own mining business. Then I'll give my fellow refugees the work they're crying out for, and pay them fairly! Wystan: The mining companies have profited from our suffering for too long. But in their hubris they've grown complacent─presenting us with a golden opportunity. Wystan: And we will take it, adventurer─we will reclaim our dignity, and with it our place within those walls. Brass Blade: We found her! We found the vein! Wystan, ye must come an' see! Wystan: Already!? Amazing! We leave at once! Wystan: You should join me, my friend! Come and bear witness to history in the making!

Brass Blade: Thal's balls, son! A vein of ore in the middle of a ruined bloody city? Godsdamned idiot! Brass Blade: What did ye think was gonna happen? That ye'd strike it rich and get cozy with the Order, while the masters of Ul'dah looked on? No one crosses the Syndicate! Wystan: <pant> <pant> The...the Syndicate!? Brass Blade: Hah! Finally sunk in, has it? Brass Blade: Well look at this! Not all yer friends've deserted ye, it seems... Lucky boy! Now ye won't have to die alone! ??? (Black-masked Ascian): O mournful voice of creation! Grant ye this humble stone a soul, that it may wake to life! Brass Blade: Who's that spoutin' gibberish!? Show yerself! Brass Blade: This ain't part o' the plan! Bloody hells, does Lord Lolorito mean to kill us too!?

??? (Black-masked Ascian): You are strong. But are you strong enough to withstand this? ??? (Black-masked Ascian): Impossible! Never has the golem been so sorely tested!

??? (Black-masked Ascian): That the golem could be vanquished... ??? (Black-masked Ascian): That woman is no ordinary adventurer.

Thancred: Damn, seems I've missed all the fun. Thancred: I see you didn't need my help this time.

Thancred: I would compose a ballad in your honor, but I fear no words would do you justice. The Songstress of Ul'dah herself could not rival your beauty. Mirthful Maiden: Oh, stop it! Thancred: I have oft heard it said that a blossom's beauty can move a man to love and long, but I never truly believed it until I met you two desert roses. Sunbaked Merchant: I hear they attacked another caravan... Tireless Trader: Aye, an' business is sufferin' for it. Bloody Amalj'aa... What's stirred 'em up, do you reckon? Thancred: Another raid...and I'll wager that caravan was carrying crystals, much like the last. Thancred: If they truly mean to summon a primal, we must act quickly. Mirthful Maiden: Are you coming, love? Forward Fille: You wouldn't keep a girl waiting, would you!? Thancred: Perish the thought! Thancred: So tell me, where in this marvel of a city might you lovely ladies be staying?

Thancred: At this rate, grain will soon be more precious than gold. Thancred: A result of the uncommonly bad harvests, to be sure... Thancred: And we have you to thank for them, do we not? Thancred: Aye, this weakening of the aetheric flow must surely be linked to Dalamud's descent. Thancred: And, of course, to the primals. Thancred: A fine mess. But we must not lose hope. Thancred: Louisoix will know what to do. We need only trust in his judgment.

Thancred: Truly a marvel of Sharlayan ingenuity... It's as if I could reach out and touch the aether. Thancred: Time to focus... No more gallivanting about like before. The Scions are counting on you. Thancred: Have faith. Just have faith. You can do this. Thancred: Hmmm... This disturbance is recent. Thancred: The Sultantree? Maybe Papashan will know something of it.

Thancred: Looks like they gave you quite a thrashing. Can you walk? Thancred: It's me. I was too late. Our person of interest had already quit the scene. The General? Very well. I shall be there anon. Thancred: My colleagues went to great lengths to provide me with the means to detect aetheric disturbances, but every time I find one, you seem to be in the middle of it. I'm starting to wonder if it might not be simpler just to follow you around. Sadly, I have business elsewhere. Thancred: Tread softly, my friend. The carefully laid trap you dismantled was clearly sanctioned by Lord Lolorito. I heard the Blades mention him as they fled. Believe me when I tell you that he is not a man to be trifled with. Thancred: The sultana's enemies grow bolder by the day, and I suspect they have the support of outside forces. Wystan: Thank you. If you hadn't come along, those bastards would surely have slaughtered us all. Wystan: I would speak with you further, but it isn't safe for us to linger here. Wystan: Find me at the Coffer & Coffin later. Until then, stay safe. Thancred: I shall accompany Wystan and his men. They need protection─and I need more information. Thancred: Ah, but where are my manners? I have yet to properly introduce myself. I am Thancred, a humble scholar surveying the flow of aether in Thanalan. Thancred: It is an honor and a privilege to make your acquaintance. I hope when next we meet it is under more auspicious circumstances. Farewell! Thancred: ...Ah. Wait a moment. It occurs to me that we may have... Thancred: Never mind. Fare thee well!

Wystan: Twelve bless you, my friend. You risked your life to save ours. Wystan: Betrayed by my own guards... Gods, I was a fool to trust those men. Wystan: Lolorito owns the godsdamned Brass Blades. I should've questioned their motives from the start. Wystan: Even so, I could hardly have predicted that the wealthiest man in Ul'dah would want me dead for the heinous crime of seeking to change the law! I'm just a merchant, for gods' sakes! Wystan: That ruthless bastard! And what of that monstrosity? Those were his own men! It beggars belief! Wystan: Well, that's it. I'm finished. If I stay in Ul'dah any longer, I'm as good as dead. Wystan: My associates, my friends─gods, even the children may not be safe if I don't disappear. And you...godsdammit, if Lolorito learns of your involvement, you'll be next. Wystan: I'll speak with the others and make sure your part in this stays secret. Beyond that, I don't know what to suggest... Maybe you should seek the counsel of Mistress Momodi. Wystan: She's helped countless adventurers in her time. Mayhap she'll know what to do. Wystan: Go quickly now, my friend. Lolorito's spies may be watching.

Momodi: Settle down, Forename. You've got nothin' to worry about. No one seems to know you were at the ruins. Momodi: Wystan, on the other hand, is now a pariah─about as welcome 'round here as a rabid wolf, poor bugger. Suffice to say, that boy risked the wrath of the wrong man. Momodi: Lord Lolorito: chairman of the East Aldenard Trading Company, generous contributor to the Order of Nald'thal, and member of the Syndicate. Momodi: Didn't get where he is by leavin' loose ends, that one. Momodi: Which is why he ain't above killin' his own men. Momodi: Hells, even if those Blades knew what was comin', it's not like they could refuse to do their benefactor's biddin'. Momodi: <sigh> Don't let this color your view of Ul'dah, Forename... It's true that there are some here who ain't afraid to crack a few skulls if it gets 'em what they want. But most of us are decent folk just tryin' to make ends meet. Momodi: You know, a lot of people would call you a damn fool for riskin' your life to save a marked man... Momodi: But I believe you did a good thing, Forename, and for that you have my respect. Momodi: Listen: you've been through a lot lately. Why don't you rest a spell? Momodi: I'll have the boys at the Hourglass set you up with a room, my treat. Just have a word with Otopa Pottopa whenever you feel like stayin'. Momodi: And when you've got your appetite for adventurin' back, consider takin' on a guildleve or two. Momodi: We've a lot of requests from locals lookin' to hire adventurers for various jobs. It'd be a good way for you to earn yourself some extra gil. Momodi: Eustace can tell you more about how the system works, so go and speak with him if you're interested.

Takin' What They're Givin' Momodi of the Quicksand has word of work for a willing adventurer.

Momodi: Look what the coeurl dragged in. Good to see you, Forename. I'd ask what brings you, but I reckon we both know the answer to that already. Momodi: Well, have I ever let you down before? Wait, don't answer that... Momodi: So happens I know a fella by the name of Dadanen who needs a hand. He's a merchant by trade, sellin' precious stones to those in Ul'dah with the means to buy them. Momodi: He's asked that I send any lookin' for work his way. You can find him over in Horizon, if you fancy. Momodi: That's in western Thanalan, mind you. Just cross the bridge north of Scorpion Crossing and the road will take you there. Momodi: Knowin' the circles he deals in, might be he'll have some talk of the royal family that'll interest you, as well. Momodi: And why not make use of a chocobo porter for the journey to Horizon? If you've the gil for it, that is. Momodi: You'll find the chocobo stables just across the way from my Quicksand. Find Mimigun─he'll set you straight. Momodi: Well, off you go, then. I haven't got all day to be holdin' your bloody hand!

Dadanen: Forename, I presume? Aye, Momodi said to expect you, and so I have. Dadanen: Welcome to Horizon. Ours is a trading settlement that sees goods in from the port of Vesper Bay to the west─and trade we do. Nary a day goes by that Horizon isn't bustling with some manner of merchants and officials. Dadanen: They keep us running about busy, they do. Enough so that I wish I had chocobo legs in place of my own. And that's why I've asked Momodi to send me any souls looking for work. Dadanen: Twelve know there is plenty of it to be done around here. Speak to me again when you are ready to make yourself of some use.

Supply and Demands Dadanen would like you to deliver a message to Copperbell Mines.

Dadanen: It so happens that I've a situation that must be resolved posthaste─and I do mean posthaste. Dadanen: I'm plumb out of premium product, and my latest order has yet to arrive! If I keep my customers waiting any longer, this could irrevocably damage my reputation! Dadanen: What's worse, I paid my man in advance for his services. Despite his assurances that it would be a simple affair, I've heard nothing since he departed for Copperbell Mines days ago. Dadanen: Find Drunken Stag and give him this notice. I cannot afford any further delay.

Drunken Stag: What do you want? Hm? Dadanen's product?

Dadanen's Final Notice A firmly worded reminder of delivery from the jeweler Dadanen.

Drunken Stag: He can send all the notices he likes, but it won't change a thing. Drunken Stag: The Concern has closed the mines due to some incident in the depths. Drunken Stag: It's a godsdamned shame too─lost a decent haul just over yonder during all the chaos...

Give It to Me Raw Drunken Stag needs someone to retrieve the raw Nashachite he dropped outside the mines.

Drunken Stag: The “product” you heard Dadanen going on about is a valuable gemstone known as raw Nashachite. I managed to dig up a goodly amount just before the mines were closed off, actually. Drunken Stag: Packed it up and hauled it out, even. But then them Twelve-damned coblyns came along. Not like any coblyns I'd seen before, and hungry only for the good rocks. They had eyes for my gemstones, so I had no choice but to oblige. Drunken Stag: The Stone Torches had their hands full evacuating the mines, so they ignored the beasts. Even now, they're only concerned with keeping people out. Please, friend, if you're willing to face the coblyns, would you bring me my Nashachite?

Drunken Stag: How did you fare, friend? Did you find the raw Nashachite?

Raw Nashachite An extremely rare variety of malachite that gets its name from its deep green color—the same color as former Ul'dahn sultana Nanasha Ul Nasha's eyes.

Drunken Stag: Beautiful, isn't it? Rarer than many stones, and more expensive than most. They say the green is the same as the eyes of Nanasha Ul Nasha, who once ruled as the sultana. Drunken Stag: This should save Dadanen from his troubles...if there's enough left. There's far less here than what I found. I reckon those coblyns made a meal of the stuff. Bloody waste...

The Perfect Swarm Drunken Stag wishes to repay your kindness with some useful information.

Drunken Stag: You'd like a chance to make some money, right? Then I know just how I can repay you for your kindness. Drunken Stag: Swarms of sun midges have been harassing travelers along the road connecting Horizon to here. It's gotten so bad that the Brass Blades have started paying folks to keep the roads clear. Drunken Stag: If you find it hard to believe that swarms of tiny midges could be so troublesome, then you've never seen a chocobo driven into a frenzy by one. There've already been some terrible accidents. Drunken Stag: Do your part and slay a few swarms. After that, let Fufulupa know. He'll reward you for your trouble, and maybe even offer you more work.

Fufulupa: Greetings and salutations, adventurer. To what do I owe this─ What, you've slain how many swarms of sun midges!? Fufulupa: You have my sincerest thanks! The Brass Blades have been struggling to keep them in check, so your assistance is greatly appreciated. Fufulupa: Will you be staying in Horizon long? If so, there is much and more you can do to help here.

Last Letter to Lost Hope Fufulupa wants you to track down a missing courier.

Fufulupa: Pray allow me to enlist your aid, brave adventurer. I would have you ascertain the whereabouts of a missive I sent to Lost Hope the other day. Fufulupa: Captain Leofric is stationed there. Ever since he was transferred, we've exchanged letters, but never before has it taken this long to receive a reply. Fufulupa: And so I fear that the courier may have met with some misfortune en route. Fufulupa: She must have made it to central Thanalan, or the Brass Blades that patrol the roads between here and Scorpion Crossing would have seen something. But, if she made it as far as Black Brush Station, she would have surely delivered the letter by now. Lost Hope is practically on its doorstep... Fufulupa: I suggest you focus your search on the road to Black Brush Station, in central Thanalan. With luck, you will find her quickly.

Seseli: Huh? A letter? Aye, I've got Fufulupa's missive right here. Seseli: I won't be deliverin' it any time soon, though. Got to tend to my bird's injured leg first. Even the most minor of cuts can fester if ignored. Seseli: Fufulupa sent you, right? If this is a pressin' matter, why don't you take it the rest of the way? Seseli: Lost Hope's just past Black Brush Station, to the northeast. Look for the tents by the river.

Seseli: Lost Hope's just past Black Brush Station, to the northeast. Look for the tents by the river. Leofric: Just passing through, or will you be staying a while?

Letter to Leofric A sealed message written by Brass Blade Fufulupa of the Rose to his former captain Leofric.

Leofric: ...Fufulupa sent you all this way because of a late letter? <sigh> The boy is still far too earnest. Leofric: Despite my demotion, he continues to call me Captain. I suspect he has no idea what it means to be transferred to Lost Hope either. Leofric: The Brass Blades don't give a Qiqirn's arse about this settlement. No one in Ul'dah does. Leofric: All here have been forsaken, adventurer. The refugees, their protectors. And you will be, too, if you're seen associating with us. Leofric: Thank you for the letter. Now, for your own good, leave.

Heir Today, Gone Tomorrow Leofric has a request for an adventurer looking to do some good.

Leofric: I thought I told you to get out of here. What, looking for a chance to do some good? <sigh> I guess I can't force you to leave. Damn stubborn adventurers, the lot of you. Fine, then. Listen well. Leofric: A band of outlaws has taken up residence at the Quiveron Manse on the ridge to the south. Leofric: Their leader has styled himself heir to Eolande Quiveron, the Syndicate member who died in the Calamity. <spit> Leofric: The baron and his cronies are naught more than a pack of jackals. They prey on the people of Lost Hope, robbing them of what little they have. Leofric: I myself cannot act without endangering the refugees, as they know my face and will retaliate against Lost Hope. You, however, are not known to the bandits or their allies. If you wish to help us, then deal with the baron.

Leofric: So it is done? Good. I hope that wretch died screaming. Leofric: Ul'dah is more prosperous than ever, some say. That may be true for the Syndicate, but none of that wealth has trickled down to the smallfolk. Leofric: It's all a mummer's farce. One day, I refused to play my part─and so I was made to leave the stage. Leofric: Aye, my time has passed. The Brass Blades of the Rose must look to others for guidance.

Passing the Blade Leofric would like you to deliver an item to Horizon.

Leofric: As you may have noticed, I'm in no shape to leave Lost Hope right now. So, in my stead, I'd like you to return to Horizon and give this dagger to Fufulupa. Leofric: Although it's just an old, ornamental dagger, it belongs with the Brass Blades of the Rose. Leofric: Aye, I should've given it to the boy before I came here...

Fufulupa: Ah, Forename! I received word from Captain Leofric the other day. Thank you for delivering the letter for me!

Antique Dagger This ornamental dagger has remained in possession of the Brass Blades of the Rose for centuries, traditionally passed down to a new captain when an old one retires.

Fufulupa: Wh-Why do you have that dagger!? Only a captain of the Brass Blades of the Rose is permitted to possess it! Fufulupa: Captain Leofric says I am to have it? There must be some mistake! Fufulupa: He couldn't possibly mean to tell me that─ No, no, of course not. I am not worthy to wield it. Fufulupa: Nevertheless, I shall respect the captain's wishes and take the dagger into safekeeping until he comes to reclaim it.

Following Footfalls Fufulupa needs you to assist his fellow Brass Blades.

Fufulupa: The Brass Blades of the Rose have need of your assistance once more, Forename! Fufulupa: Thaumaturges from the Ossuary are presently surveying the Footfalls for ancient relics. Fufulupa: As the area is rife with wild beasts, the Horizon garrison has been charged with their security. Fufulupa: But Captain Baldewyn sent only a handful of Brass Blades! Despite his assurances to the contrary, such a small unit cannot possibly be sufficient to protect our patrons. Fufulupa: I would have you offer your assistance to my comrades. Pray travel to the Footfalls and speak with Totoruna.

Totoruna: A bleedin' 'venturer, come to help? I ain't heard nothin' from Cap'n Baldewyn 'bout this. He said trusted men only... Totoruna: Anyroad, we've got this under control─an' besides, this operation ain't got nothin' to do with Fufulupa. Totoruna: Boy's got a stick up his arse the size of a sabotender. It's no wonder the cap'n told him to stay at Horizon...

Storms on the Horizon Nunuzofu wants you to deliver a message to Crescent Cove.

Nunuzofu: Hey, adventurer! Mind runnin' a message to Crescent Cove for us? Nunuzofu: Captain Baldewyn's plannin' some festivities for the thaumaturges, see, and he wants 'em treated to the finest food and drink. Nothin' but the best for our distinguished guests, eh? Nunuzofu: Head west and south to the village and tell Raffe that he's to deliver a bounty of fresh fish to Horizon for the feast.

Raffe: F-Fresh fish for Captain Baldewyn? Of course, of course! We will do our best, madam. Raffe: U-Unfortunately, we've had a poor catch in recent days on account of the rough seas. More boats should be returning soon, but I cannot promise that their catch will please. Raffe: But don't worry, milady! The captain will have his fish! I swear it!

Oh Captain, My Captain Merilda may have stumbled upon a secret...

Merilda: You are an adventurer, are you not? I know this is sudden, but I have no one else to turn to. Merilda: Last night, a gang of bandits from the Quiveron Manse were in their cups, and I overheard them discussing their plans... Merilda: It seems they've come to collect gemstones stolen from Copperbell Mines. Nashachite, I think I heard one say. They are to meet with their co-conspirator soon, at the Footfalls─ Fufulupa: Wh-Wh-What did you say!? Fufulupa: Illicit exchanges and shadowy dealings! The Brass Blades cannot abide such malfeasance! Fufulupa: Forgive my eavesdropping, Forename─I came to Crescent Cove merely to thank you in person. Fufulupa: I never imagined I'd uncover a criminal conspiracy right outside Horizon's gates! Fufulupa: We must act quickly if we are to apprehend these thieves! I will notify Captain Baldewyn at once! Merilda: No, wait! You mustn't! Oh, gods... Merilda: You must stop him before it's too late! Captain Baldewyn himself is working with the bandits!

Fufulupa: Captain Baldewyn, sir! I've discovered something shocking, something horrible! Fufulupa: Someone has been stealing gemstones from Copperbell Mines and─ Fufulupa: Wait, those gauntlets, those boots─why, you're one of Quiveron's men! Sir, that man is a thief and a scoundrel! Baldewyn: ...And? What of it? His coin's good, and that's what counts. Fufulupa: What!? Captain Baldewyn...are you working with these men!? It cannot be... Baldewyn: I told you to stay in Horizon, Fufulupa. It didn't have to be like this... Baldewyn: They'd get their Nashachite, I'd get my gil, and none would be the wiser. Fufulupa: B-B-But, sir, what if your crimes are uncovered!? What if Lord Lolorito finds out!? Baldewyn: You godsdamned fool, don't you see!? Baldewyn: I am acting under the authority of Lord Lolorito himself! Fufulupa: No... No! That can't be true... Baldewyn: Why do you think people join the Brass Blades, Fufulupa? To serve and protect? Hah! Baldewyn: We're not the bloody Flames here! We do this for the coin! Ser Baron von Quiveron IV Esquire: You there, adventurer! Do you remember me? Well, I remember you! Ser Baron von Quiveron IV Esquire: I am Ser Baron von Quiveron IV Esquire! You killed my brother, and now I'm going to return the favor! Baldewyn: Well, that settles it! It's clearly in everyone's best interests that both of you die!

Baldewyn Four Yalms: It's time to do your duty, Fufulupa! Time to die for your country! Fufulupa the Unbending: Why, Captain, why!? I trusted you! Baldewyn Four Yalms: Heh, you're stronger than I thought! Baldewyn Four Yalms: Damn you both, you're ruining everything! Fufulupa the Unbending: Ware his spear, Forename!

Leofric: That's enough, Baldewyn! Leofric: Your partner is dead and your plans are undone. You've no reason left to fight. Baldewyn: Stay out of this, Leofric! I don't take orders from you! Baldewyn: I may have spared your life before, but if you interfere, I will not show you mercy! Leofric: And what mercy will he show you, I wonder? You who have done so much in another man's name. Baldewyn: What are you blathering on about!? Leofric: Every fisherman in Crescent Cove knew about your meeting, you arrogant fool. Quiveron's men couldn't keep their mouths shut. Leofric: Imagine Lord Lolorito's surprise when he learned that a rank-and-file Brass Blade was using his name to advance a personal agenda... Baldewyn: He knows!? Seven hells! But I'm a captain, he wouldn't─ Leofric: I was once a captain too, remember? And we both know what happened to me. Leofric: Well fought, boy. You've done the Brass Blades of the Rose proud. Fufulupa: Captain Leofric! Captain Baldewyn, he...he said that Lord Lolorito─ Leofric: Lord Lolorito wouldn't waste his time on a small-scale smuggling operation. This is all Baldewyn's doing. Leofric: What else did he say? That all our brethren are no better, and that each and every one cares for naught but coin? Hah! Mere excuses to justify his schemes. Leofric: Aye, we've no shortage of greedy sods, some who'd probably sell their own mothers into slavery if the price was right. Leofric: But there are men like you, Fufulupa─men good and true, whom the smallfolk respect. Leofric: Which is why I gave you the dagger. The Brass Blades of the Rose need a leader with honor, and you're the most honorable man I know. Fufulupa: <sniffle> <sob> Captaaaaaain! Fufulupa: Thank you for all your help, Forename! The captain and I will escort Captain Baldewyn back to Horizon. Fufulupa: Pray visit me in town when next you return!

Fufulupa: Welcome back, Forename! So much has happened! Fufulupa: Captain─ahem, Baldewyn has been arrested and stripped of rank, which means the Brass Blades of the Rose no longer have a captain. Fufulupa: Until a new one is designated, I've been ordered to serve as acting captain of the Horizon garrison. Fufulupa: Though doubtless this is only a temporary arrangement, I will do my utmost to represent my brethren and protect the people of Horizon! Fufulupa: Thank you, Forename, for your service to the sultanate. You are a true hero!

Secrets and Lies Fufulupa would entrust you with a matter of grave import.

Fufulupa: I salute you, honored friend. As acting captain, I should be much obliged if you would grant me a personal request. Fufulupa: In our efforts to ascertain the full extent of the former captain's corruption, we have been poring over his personal correspondence. Fufulupa: Our search unearthed this sealed letter addressed to a man named Owyne. Fufulupa: But he is one of the Sultansworn elite! I can think of no reason why he should have any dealings with Baldewyn! Fufulupa: We now know that the former captain was consorting with a coalition of criminals... Could it be that Owyne was, too!? Fufulupa: This letter may well serve as evidence of their collusion, and so I dare not tamper with it myself. Fufulupa: But given the events of recent days, I knew not whom to trust with this information─until now. Fufulupa: I have chosen you, Forename. Pray bear the letter to Mistress Momodi of the Quicksand, and relate the circumstances of its discovery. Fufulupa: Not only is she a staunch supporter of the sultana, but she is well acquainted with the Sultansworn. She will know how best to proceed.

Momodi: Ah, Forename! It's been too long! Dadanen tells me you've been keepin' busy in Horizon. Momodi: I want you to know that I'm grateful for everythin' you've done for the people of Ul'dah. Momodi: Even though you've seen the seedier side of our city, you've continued to help your fellow man. Believe me, the folk around here love you for it. Momodi: Hmmm? What is it? You look like you've got somethin' to say.

Letter to Owyne A letter addressed to Sultansworn elite Owyne.

Momodi: ...So that's what this is all about. Momodi: Fufulupa's thinkin' Owyne might've been in league with Baldewyn─that this letter could be proof of somethin' shady. Momodi: Well he needn't worry. Owyne's as loyal a Sultansworn as I've ever known. I haven't the foggiest what this says, but─ Momodi: Wait a minute. Wasn't Owyne the one who...? Momodi: Oh, hells... I've got a bad feelin' about this. Momodi: Listen, Forename─I think I know what this is all about, but I need you to swear to keep it quiet. Momodi: If you'd rather wash your hands of this business, I won't hold it against you. But if you're determined to see it through to the bitter end, say the word and I'll explain.

Duty, Honor, Country Momodi wishes to enlist the aid of a trusted friend of Ul'dah.

Momodi: Can I count on your discretion, Forename? If so, then listen closely... Momodi: The outside world believes Ul'dah to be a sultanate, ruled by Sultana Nanamo Ul Namo. Truth is, though, it's the six wealthiest citizens that hold the most sway─the Syndicate. Momodi: Be that as it may, the sultana's still got the support of the people... Momodi: But she might struggle to keep even that if a certain incident becomes public knowledge. Momodi: It pains me to say it, but Her Grace's crown, the symbol of the royal dynasty, has been stolen. Momodi: And Owyne...Owyne's the Sultansworn who was charged with guardin' it that night. Momodi: I'd bet anythin' this letter was written by the bastards who made off with the crown. Momodi: It can't be a coincidence that a man we know to have been fraternizin' with thieves had a letter for Owyne of all people, at this of all times. Momodi: You need to take this to the man himself, Forename. Tell him Momodi sent you, and that it concerns a lost heirloom. Momodi: If it looks as though the fellow needs help, I want you to lend it to him. The future of our fair city may depend on it.

Sultansworn Elite: The Heart of the Sworn lies beyond. State your business. Sultansworn Elite: ...Pardon? Did you say a lost heirloom? Ahem. Proceed.

Proceed into the Heart of the Sworn?
Yes
No Sultansworn Elite: What are you playing at, adventurer? Did Momodi truly send you? If this is some sort of prank, there will be consequences!

Owyne: Well met, adventurer. What business brings you here this day? Owyne: ...A letter? Very well, let's see it.

Letter to Owyne A letter addressed to Sultansworn elite Owyne.

Owyne: ...Have you read this, adventurer? Owyne: I see. But you have some inkling as to its contents, I think. Owyne: Mistress Momodi has doubtless explained to you the significance of the crown, and what its loss could mean for Her Grace the sultana... <sigh> This theft shames the Sultansworn─and me most of all. Owyne: The blame is mine, you see. I grew lax in my duties, and in a moment of carelessness... Owyne: No, it will do no good to recount the tale now. Since the hour of the theft, we've searched frantically for any signs, any whispers as to the whereabouts of the crown. We have found nothing. Owyne: The identity of the thieves, and their motives, seemed fated to remain a mystery─until you arrived, bearing this ransom note. Owyne: In it, the criminals state their price for the return of Her Grace's crown. Owyne: And though it pains me to say it, I fear I have no choice but to acquiesce to their demands. Too much is at stake to do otherwise. The crown symbolizes Her Grace's birthright, and identifies her as the custodian of the Ul legacy. It must be recovered. Owyne: I will travel to the Unholy Heir and pay them their ransom. Owyne: Though I am not foolish enough to meet these men alone as they stipulate, I dare not bring a host of my comrades lest the thieves take fright. Friend─would you consent to be present for the exchange? Owyne: Mistress Momodi has always spoken of you in the most glowing terms, and I have never yet had reason to question her judgment. Owyne: On behalf of all those still loyal to the sultana, I beseech you─help us in our hour of need.

Owyne: I've come as agreed! Now, show me the crown! Garibald: Aye, you'll have your precious crown─once we've been duly compensated. Owyne: Do you think me a fool!? What assurance have I that you will honor your part of the agreement? Garibald: Now, now, Owyne...you're the least trustworthy man here. Not only was the crown stolen on your watch, but it looks to me as if you've violated the terms of our exchange. Did we not say that you were to come alone? Garibald: And given that you are not alone, what guarantee have we that there isn't a company of archers surrounding us even as we speak, ready to feather me and my men the moment they catch a glimpse of the crown? Garibald: You have made mock of our trust. The deal is off. Owyne: Wait! Here's your payment, as promised! Garibald: <sniff> <sniff> ...Aye, 'tis the real thing. Garibald: Ahahaha! A thousand thanks to you, boy! You've succeeded where scores of thieves have failed! Garibald: And now, at long last, we have it! The power to create an army of undying soldiers─The Traders' Spurn! Owyne: No...no, it can't be! What have I done!? Garibald: Surely you must have wondered what it was that you were handing over─what it was that seemed as valuable to us as the crown seemed to you? Or did you assume we were feeling charitable? Garibald: Ah, but you must feel terrible, knowing that you've brought us the doom of Sil'dih. Worry not, boy─we'll grant you a quick death and spare you further ignominy. Owyne: There's too many, Forename! Run! Run while you still can! I...I will do my duty. ??? (Papashan): It's your duty to serve the sultana, lad─and you'll be doing it for a good while yet! Papashan: Sultansworn! Put these thieves to the sword and secure the crown! Garibald: Sultansworn!? Hah! No matter! Kill them all!

Papashan: Fight for your sultana, boy! Fight for Ul'dah! Owyne: As you command, Master Papashan!
With me, Forename! Papashan: Stand your ground, Sultansworn! Garibald the Fargone: Meddlesome fools! You know not whom you face! Garibald the Fargone: Hearken to me, denizen of the abyss!
Slay these interlopers and feast upon their souls! Owyne: Is that a voidsent!? Papashan: Yield or be slain, thief! I will not ask again!

Owyne: Master Papashan! But why...? How...? Papashan: The General saw you sneak into the vaults, Owyne. Papashan: He suspected something was afoot and ordered us to keep an eye on you. Owyne: The Flame General...? He ordered you to look after me? Sultansworn Elite: Master Papashan! More of them to the north! Papashan: After them, Sultansworn─they have the crown! This lot sought only to delay us! Owyne: Let us speak again back in the city! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): The source of her strength becomes clear... Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): You may have bested the golem, but you will not fare so well this day. Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): O mournful voice of creation! Send unto me a creature of the abyss, my thrall to command, that I may smite mine enemies! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Your very being imperils the plan. You cannot be suffered to live.

Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Soon, you shall take your vile gifts to the grave! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Mwahahaha! Writhe as the venom eats its way through your veins! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Whence springs this preternatural might!? Thancred: You certainly have a knack for getting into trouble! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): An unwelcome guest. No matter, all shall fall before me! Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): No mortal should possess such strength! Thancred: Keep it up, Forename! We almost have him!

Masked Mage (Black-masked Ascian): Unnngh... That the wisdom of the Paragons should be brought low...by mere mortals... Thancred: Paragons? This is indeed a disturbing revelation... Thancred: We had long suspected the involvement of the Bringers of Chaos─Ascians, to give them their true name. Thancred: But we could not be sure they were responsible for the recent disturbances until now. As if the sultanate needed any more enemies... Thancred: Hm? Have we Sharlayans crossed paths with Ascians before? Well, we've certainly─ Wait. I don't recall telling you about my homeland. Thancred: Ah, yes, that's right─you're one of the gifted. Thancred: You know, this marks the third time I've found you in the midst of trouble. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're a lodestone for it! Thancred: Anyway, I'm glad I started following you around. Who knows what grand conspiracy you'll stumble upon next!? Thancred: I jest, I jest... Had I truly been watching your every move, I wouldn't have taken so long to intervene in your latest altercation. Thancred: But all's well that ends well, eh? Our masked friend is no more, and while I very much doubt we've seen the last of his kind, his demise will likely grant us at least some respite. And on that note, I must away. Until next time, Forename.

Sultansworn Elite: Everyone is waiting for you, adventurer.

Proceed into the Heart of the Sworn?
Yes
No Sultansworn Elite: Pray do not keep my comrades waiting.

Owyne: You have my thanks, Forename, for helping to defend Her Grace's good name, and for sparing the Sultansworn further dishonor. I believe Master Papashan would like to thank you personally. Papashan: Does it surprise you to see me dressed so, Forename? I was once a Sultansworn, you know, though it's been fifteen years since I put down my sword, and took up the role of stationmaster. Papashan: It is a capacity in which I am no less proud to serve, lest you doubt. Whenever Her Grace ventures outside the gates, I have the honor of protecting her person. Papashan: Never before had I seen her so despondent as when news of the crown's theft reached her ears. Papashan: But thanks to your valiant efforts, she is returned to her former vibrant self. You have the gratitude of every Sultansworn, Forename. Lady-in-waiting: Exalted vessel of Nald'thal, guardian of Thanalan, seventeenth ascendant to the throne of Ul'dah, Her Royal Majesty Nanamo Ul Namo presides! Sultansworn: Long live Nanamo! Sultansworn: Long live Nanamo! Sultansworn: Glory to the sultana! Sultansworn: Glory to the sultana! Sultansworn: Forever may she reign! Sultansworn: Forever may she reign! Nanamo Ul Namo: They regaled me with tales of a champion amongst champions, one whose tireless service to the crown merited the highest honor we might bestow. Nanamo Ul Namo: Never did it occur to me that it might be you. Bring it forth! Nanamo Ul Namo: Betokening our gratitude and esteem, I, Nanamo Ul Namo, Sultana of Ul'dah, confer upon you this gift. Nanamo Ul Namo: Raubahn. Raubahn: Your Grace. Nanamo Ul Namo: See to it that our champion is my personal guest at the banquet. Raubahn: As you command, Your Grace. Raubahn: If what they say is true, Ul'dah owes you a great debt. Raubahn: I am Raubahn Aldynn. With the consent of Her Grace, I oversee the affairs of the sultanate. Raubahn: Brave souls are few and far between in these times. I count my blessings when I find one. Raubahn: Her Grace invites you to join her at the coming banquet. I trust I will see you there. Sultansworn: An honor! Sultansworn: Huzzah! Sultansworn: Indeed. Sultansworn: Come, hero! Raubahn: Until then. Raubahn: For the sake of Her Grace, and the glory of the sultanate, may you walk in the light of the Crystal.

A Matter of Tradition Owyne would like to speak with you regarding the sultana's invitation.

Owyne: By the Twelve, Forename! For an adventurer to receive a personal invitation from Her Grace is unprecedented! Owyne: Seats at these banquets are offered only to the most distinguished individuals. You will be dining with some of the most influential people in Ul'dah. Owyne: There are, of course, certain protocols that must be observed. Owyne: ...But I am no authority on them. Fear not, however─Mistress Momodi has long been responsible for familiarizing foreign guests with our customs. Owyne: Pray return to the Quicksand and speak with her. She will tell you all you need know.

Momodi: Welcome back, Forename, and congratulations on your invite to the big soirée! Momodi: To be honest, I never imagined I'd be explainin' these procedures to you. It's usually only foreign dignitaries who get to hear me prattle on and on about royal traditions. Anyroad, I know you're a busy woman, so I'll keep it short and sweet. Momodi: In accordance with ancient custom, all guests to this banquet are required to wear a pair of ceremonial earrin's, made 'specially for the occasion. They're meant to symbolize─ Actually, forget about that. This was meant to be the short version. Ahem. Bein' of a design unique to the occasion, the earrin's serve as a security measure. The Sultansworn won't let you near the hall without 'em. Momodi: Your set should be ready and waitin' for you at the Goldsmiths' Guild. Mistress Serendipity is expectin' you, so you'll want to head down there now. Momodi: Once you've got them, bring them back here and we'll continue.

Serendipity: Greetings! Is there something I can help you with? Serendipity: Ah, Forename! Your earrings are right here. I crafted them myself, I'll have you know. I think you'll be very pleased! Serendipity: In case Mistress Momodi didn't warn you, the box is locked, and I am not permitted to give you the key. It's a final safeguard, you see─only designated individuals are authorized to distribute the earrings to guests. In this instance, the person in question is none other than Mistress Momodi, so you will need to ask her to open the box on your behalf. Pardon the inconvenience, but the Sultansworn take Her Grace's safety very seriously.

Momodi: Picked up your earrin's yet, Forename?

Rosewood Box A tiny box carved from a single piece of rosewood.

Momodi: Let me just... <gasp> Well, now, looks like the guildmaster outdid herself with this pair! Momodi: You'd best take good care of these earrin's! If they fell into the wrong hands, gods only know what might happen! Momodi: Now then, I hope you're feelin' sociable, Forename, 'cause you're about to hobnob with Ul'dah's elite! Let me know when you're ready to head to the banquet.

A Royal Reception Momodi wants to see you off to the banquet.

Momodi: This is it, Forename─your big debut in Ul'dahn high society! Momodi: The banquet is bein' held in the Fragrant Chamber. Head over to the Royal Promenade and Bartholomew will show you in. Oh, but be sure to put on your earrin's first, or he'll send you packin'. Momodi: Right, well, I reckon that's everythin'. Try not to let all the pomp and ceremony get to you. Just be yourself and you'll be fine!

Bartholomew: A banquet hosted by Her Grace the sultana is due to begin shortly. Attendance is by invitation only. Please make way for arriving guests. Bartholomew: We are honored to receive you, milady. Please proceed inside.

Raubahn: All hail the sultana! Raubahn: Your Grace. Nanamo Ul Namo: Raubahn. Nanamo Ul Namo: By right of the Royal House of Ul, I, Nanamo, seventeenth of my line, have summoned you here. Nanamo Ul Namo: We are graced this day by the presence of a hero to Ul'dah, and dear friend to the crown. Nanamo Ul Namo: Honored guests, I give you our champion! Nanamo Ul Namo: And with that, I bid you enjoy the feast. Raubahn: Not to spoil your appetite, but Ul'dah is hardly so bountiful as this meal would have you believe. While we gorge ourselves, children starve in the streets. Raubahn: Nor can Her Grace do aught to help them. She is thwarted at every turn by those on the Syndicate who derive their wealth from the workers' poverty. Raubahn: Beneath her mask of stately serenity, she is aghast at the plight of her subjects. Raubahn: But there will be no hope for the masses until the crown is restored to power. Raubahn: I am truly grateful for all you have done for Ul'dah. But there is so much more to do. Raubahn: That light─what is it? Raubahn: So bright... Almost like... By the Twelve! Raubahn: Tell me true─have you been troubled by strange dreams of late? Visions─of the Crystal? Raubahn: Mayhap you put them down to an excess of aether? Raubahn: Yes. You are like they were... Raubahn: Allow me to explain. Before you came to Eorzea, there were others like you who fought the primals. Raubahn: Though they were not of this land, when the Garlean Empire threatened the realm, they helped bring together the three Grand Companies. Raubahn: And they stood with us at Carteneau, that fateful day five years ago... Raubahn: ...The day we lost them. Raubahn: None who survived have forgotten the heroes' sacrifice, nor would any man deny they fought alongside us... Raubahn: But the names of these heroes come not to our lips. The once-familiar pages of their story are now blank to us. Raubahn: And in our mind's eye, their faces are naught but silhouettes amid a blinding glare... Raubahn: It is for this reason that we have come to call them the Warriors of Light. Raubahn: When I look at you, I cannot help but think of them, and of what you might achieve. Raubahn: You must protect that crystal at all costs. Raubahn: It is a gift from Hydaelyn, Mother of all─and one She gave to you for a reason. Raubahn: Yours is no ordinary tale. If I am right, the fate of the realm may yet hang upon your deeds. Raubahn: Only heroes and martyrs are fit to bear such a burden. Let us pray you are the former.

Momodi: How you feelin', Forename? Momodi: They said you fainted in the middle of one of the General's stories. I had to have you carried back to the Hourglass. Momodi: I reckon you made quite an impression on your fellow guests─though probably not the sort you intended. Momodi: You sure you're gettin' enough rest, Forename? The life of an adventurer can be pretty taxin'. Momodi: Anyroad, I'm glad to see you're back to normal. No offense, but lookin' after you was gettin' a bit tiresome. Momodi: Oh, 'fore I forget, the General left a message for you. Said that when you're feelin' up to it, you should come and see him at the Hall of Flames. Momodi: Probably wants to finish the story he was tellin' you when you fell asleep.

Raubahn: I've been waiting for you, Forename. I trust you are fully recovered? Raubahn: Good, because there is much work to be done─work that I would have you do...

The Ul'dahn Envoy Raubahn means to entrust you with a task of the utmost import.

Raubahn: I've been waiting for you, Forename. I trust you are fully recovered? Raubahn: Good, because there is much work to be done─work that I would have you do... Raubahn: Listen well, Forename. This will take some time to explain. Raubahn: I've prepared these letters for my counterparts in the Eorzean Alliance. Raubahn: Five years ago, we looked on, powerless, as our brothers and sisters were taken from us at Carteneau─first by the Garleans, and then by the thrice-damned primal called forth by their treachery. Raubahn: Not a day goes by that I do not think of my fallen comrades... Raubahn: ...And of the Warriors of Light, of whom no trace remained. Raubahn: The tragedies of the Calamity are not so easily forgotten─nor should they be. In remembering all we've lost, we're reminded of what we still have. Raubahn: And so I mean to mark the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Carteneau with a memorial service honoring the fallen. Raubahn: It is my hope that my counterparts in the Alliance will agree to do the same. Raubahn: And I would have you bear my words to them as my personal envoy. Raubahn: Why you? Because your deeds mark you out as the nearest thing I have to a Warrior of Light. I can think of none more worthy of the role. The question is: will you accept it? Raubahn: Then it is agreed! Raubahn: You will journey to Gridania and Limsa Lominsa as my official representative. Raubahn: Now, that's a great many malms to travel, but I've neither the time nor patience to wait around while you do it on foot. Raubahn: I hereby grant you permission to use the airship routes connecting the three city-states. This pass serves as proof of your privilege. Raubahn: Gone are the days when airship travel was available to all. Raubahn: The ever-present threat of imperial attack has forced us to impose drastic restrictions out of concern for public safety. Raubahn: These passes are only granted when circumstance demands it─as in this case. Raubahn: Though there were others who insisted you be granted one regardless. Raubahn: Aye, Forename, I am not alone in seeing it... Raubahn: Your potential is plain. Raubahn: But I have said enough. In the name of the sultana, I bid you go forth. Raubahn: See for yourself the wonders of the realm for which the Warriors of Light risked all. Rise to your calling and fulfill your promise. Raubahn: And should your path be barred by man or beast, strike fast and true, for victory belongs to the bold. Raubahn: Now go, Forename, and heed the Crystal's guidance should you ever lose your way.

Momodi: Ah! Back from your meetin' with Raubahn, are you? What did the big man have to say? Momodi: Is that a fact!? Momodi: Personal envoy of the Flame General himself! Momodi: So you'll be bearin' the great man's words to the leaders of the Alliance, will you? And by airship! Bugger me...that's an honor and half, that is. Momodi: ...But I can't think of anyone who deserves it more. Momodi: I'm proud of you, Forename. I truly am. Momodi: Now, I daresay Raubahn told you this, but not many people get to go on airships, these days. In fact, most folk go to their graves havin' never once seen Eorzea from above... Momodi: Poor buggers shuffle off to meet Thal havin' never known the blues of Limsa Lominsa's shimmerin' seas, or the myriad greens of leafy Gridania... Momodi: But not you, Forename. You'll see those sights and more, and everywhere you go, you'll find fascinatin' folk with fascinatin' tales to tell. Momodi: The people you meet, the places you go─savor these experiences... Momodi: For they are priceless, all. Momodi: Sayin' that, it'd be remiss of me if I didn't remind you to be careful out there. Momodi: Ul'dah ain't the only place beset by troubles, as you'll discover when you visit Limsa and Gridania. Momodi: Truth be told, that might well be exactly what the General wants you to realize. I think he knows what kind of woman you are, Forename. Momodi: And what kind's that, you ask? Why, the kind that can't resist stickin' her nose in other people's business, of course─and don't you ever go changin'! Momodi: Safe travels, Forename! I'll see you when you get back.

Elyenora: Greetings, madam. This is the reservation counter for passengers traveling to Limsa Lominsa. Elyenora: If I'm not mistaken, you are the Flame General's envoy, Forename Surname, yes? Highwind Skyways is at your service. Will you be flying with us today?

Proceed to the landing area?
Yes
No Elyenora: Should you change your mind, you need only speak to me, and I will see to it that you are assigned a place on the next airship.

Airship Attendant: Attention, all passengers: the airship bound for Limsa Lominsa is about to depart. Please make your way to the boarding gate. Nanamo Ul Namo: When first we met beneath the Sultantree, I sensed there was something unusual about her. I wonder if they will feel the same... Momodi: Godsspeed, Forename, godsspeed! Momodi: If I'm right, they'll be singin' your praises from here to the Farreach before long. Momodi: May you always walk in the light of the Crystal...

Arrivals Attendant: Ah, you must be the envoy from Ul'dah! Welcome to Limsa Lominsa, madam. Admiral Bloefhiswyn awaits your arrival.

Leave the landing area?
Yes
No Arrivals Attendant: Please let me know if you require any assistance.

Zanthael: Greetings, madam, and welcome to our fair city. If you would permit me to examine the seal on the missive you carry...

Letter to the Admiral A letter addressed to Limsa Lominsan Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn.

Zanthael: Yes, everything seems to be in order. My apologies. We cannot afford to be complacent, you understand. Please, step this way.

??? (Merlwyb): Enter. Merlwyb: So the silver-tongued merchants send an adventurer to speak for them. It appears the Ul'dahns place great faith in you. Merlwyb: This way. Merlwyb: I bid you welcome. Merlwyb: I am Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, Admiral of Limsa Lominsa, and commander of the Maelstrom. Merlwyb: Now, what news from Thanalan? Merlwyb: Hm. A memorial service to honor the fallen. Merlwyb: Seven hells... Has it been five years? Merlwyb: Five years since the Garlean Empire sought to wrest Eorzea from our grasp... Merlwyb: It was in answer to the imperial threat that the city-states formed the Grand Companies, and forged the Eorzean Alliance anew. But Garlemald was not content to wager all on a simple contest of martial might. They had other plans─the Meteor project. Merlwyb: Legatus Nael van Darnus─hells take him─intended to “cleanse” our realm by snatching the lesser moon, Dalamud, from the heavens and casting it down upon our heads. Desperate to prevent this lunatic scheme, we marched our forces to the Carteneau Flats and there met the VIIth Imperial Legion in battle. Merlwyb: Never have I seen a fight like the Battle of Carteneau─and I have seen full many. Merlwyb: But though we gave no quarter, spared not one onze of effort...we could not prevent what followed. Merlwyb: From inside the shell of Dalamud came a winged nightmare─a dragon the size of a bloody city. 'Twas the elder primal Bahamut, bent on making an eighth hell of Eorzea. Merlwyb: In the space of a breath, the legions of the Empire were set aflame, while our own armies fared little better. 'Twas as if the whole world was burning... Words cannot well describe the scene. Merlwyb: And yet...by some miracle, a few among us were spared. Merlwyb: Even as I steeled myself for death, a blinding white light enveloped me, robbing me of my senses. Merlwyb: When I regained them, the dragon was gone, and the still-smoldering land was warped beyond all knowing. Merlwyb: Were Archon Louisoix still with us, he would doubtless shed some light on these unfathomable happenings. Alas, he is not, and I fear we will want for his wisdom in the days to come. Merlwyb: For while our nations struggle to recover from the devastation, the beastmen call forth their damned primals to torment us anew. Merlwyb: Unless we put aside our differences and rebuild now, our foes will catch us unprepared. Merlwyb: And I speak not only of the beastmen. Do not imagine that the Empire has forsaken its claim on Eorzea. The imperials crowd our borders, waiting to strike. Merlwyb: Damn it all, we need champions to replace those we lost... Merlwyb: But such thoughts are worse than worthless. Time is short, and none will save us, save ourselves. It is the duty of every soul who survived the Calamity to work together for the good of Eorzea...and this memorial service may be the very thing to unite us. Merlwyb: Aye, Raubahn has the right of it. I accept his proposal. Merlwyb: Your duty is done here, adventurer─I will see to it that the Flame General receives my reply. Merlwyb: You travel next to Gridania, yes? Merlwyb: Pray give my regards to the Elder Seedseer. Oh, and tell her the wolf has been sniffing around the stables. A private jest─and one in poor taste─but I would have you tell it all the same. Merlwyb: Fare you well, Forename. May the Navigator guide you on your journey.

L'nophlo: Greetings, madam. This is the counter for passengers traveling to Gridania. L'nophlo: A pleasure to serve you again, madam. Are you ready to board the airship to Gridania?

Proceed to the landing area?
Yes
No L'nophlo: Very well, madam. I'll be glad to assist you when you are.

Arrivals Attendant: Ah, you must be the envoy from Ul'dah! Welcome to Gridania, madam. The Flame General awaits your arrival.

Leave the landing area?
Yes
No Arrivals Attendant: Please let me know if you require any assistance.

Serpent Honor Guard: Greetings, good madam. Serpent Honor Guard: You are the Ul'dahn envoy, are you not? I have received instructions to assist you. Serpent Honor Guard: Pray make your way into the city proper, and identify yourself to the conjurer at Nophica's Altar. She will admit you to the Lotus Stand, where the Elder Seedseer awaits.

Silent Conjurer: You are the Ul'dahn envoy? Begging your pardons, madam, but might I inspect the missive you bear?

Letter to the Elder A letter addressed to Gridanian Elder Seedseer Kan-E-Senna.

Silent Conjurer: Verily, this is the seal of the supreme commander of the Immortal Flames. Please come with me.

Kan-E-Senna: So you are the Ul'dahn envoy. Kan-E-Senna: On behalf of our fair nation, I bid you welcome. Kan-E-Senna: Please. Kan-E-Senna: Allow me to introduce myself. Kan-E-Senna: I am Kan-E-Senna, Elder Seedseer of Gridania, and leader of the Order of the Twin Adder, our nation's Grand Company. Kan-E-Senna: I understand you bear a message from the Flame General. Kan-E-Senna: A remembrance service for the fallen of Carteneau... Kan-E-Senna: Pray tell me, adventurer─what do you know of our conflict with the Empire? Kan-E-Senna: It would seem my counterparts recounted the tale in some detail. That is well. Kan-E-Senna: Hm? A message from the Admiral? ...A wolf has been sniffing around her stables, you say? I see. Well, I shall be pleased to provide her with such counsel as I am able. Kan-E-Senna: But first, friend of my friend, I would tell you more of the Garlean threat. Kan-E-Senna: For the greater part of its history, Garlemald was not even among the most influential nations in Ilsabard, the northern continent. However, its innovations in the field of magitek, some fifty years past, helped to raise it from the depths of obscurity. Kan-E-Senna: Emboldened by this technology, it set about subjugating its neighbors, swiftly absorbing each into its ever-expanding territory. And when all of Ilsabard lay within its grasp, it turned its ravenous gaze upon Eorzea. Kan-E-Senna: Yet Garlemald's transformation did not come about by virtue of magitek alone. Its success owed much to the consummate leadership of its first and reigning emperor. Kan-E-Senna: Solus zos Galvus─the man who built an empire in his own lifetime. Yet he has lived long, and after more than four score winters, it is said that he grows frail, and ever more prone to illness. Kan-E-Senna: If rumors are to be believed, the matter of succession has destabilized the imperial court. This would explain the Empire's relative inactivity in recent years, which has granted us much-needed time to rebuild. Kan-E-Senna: Yet we cannot allow ourselves to become complacent, for Garlemald still maintains a presence in Eorzea, in the form of the XIVth Imperial Legion. Kan-E-Senna: Commanding this great host is Legatus Gaius van Baelsar, a man whose ambitions are well known to us. So long as he breathes Eorzean air, none of us may sleep easy. Kan-E-Senna: The Calamity wreaked such devastation upon the realm that it has been all we could do to nurse our wounds, never mind rebuild our defenses. Simply put, we have not the strength to repel the Empire. Kan-E-Senna: To add to our woes, the beast tribes continue to summon their primals, whose very existence is a bane upon the land. Kan-E-Senna: Each nation is beset with its own primal problem; none has the resources to look beyond its own borders. Kan-E-Senna: The Admiral desires my counsel regarding a brazen wolf. Kan-E-Senna: She means to tell me that the Empire may soon resume its advance. Kan-E-Senna: Though the primals pose an undeniable threat to our survival, the threat posed by the Garleans is greater still. Clearly, each nation can no longer afford to think only of that which occurs within its own borders. Kan-E-Senna: A storm gathers upon the horizon. If we are to weather it, we must needs stand united once more. A remembrance service may help to rekindle the spirit of unity which brought the peoples of Eorzea together when last the Empire threatened our liberty. Kan-E-Senna: The Flame General was wise to make his proposal, and I wholeheartedly approve of it. The necessary provisions shall be made for a service here in Gridania. Kan-E-Senna: Your work here is done, my friend. I shall send my reply to the Flame General forthwith. Kan-E-Senna: I thank you for coming. May the Twelve see you safely home.

Call of the Sea Bartholomew has information that may be of interest to you.

Serpent Officer: I pray your meeting with the Elder Seedseer went well, my lady envoy. Correct me if I'm mistaken, but did you not also deliver a message to Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn of Limsa Lominsa? Serpent Officer: While you were there, did you happen to meet Baderon, the proprietor of the Drowning Wench? Gregarious gentleman, always happy to help his fellow man. Serpent Officer: Well, I am told that he has a task for a capable adventurer. I know not what the task entails, but I daresay the Flame General's personal envoy would make a fine candidate. If you are interested in learning more, pray speak with Baderon at his establishment.

A Realm Reborn (2.0)

It's Probably Pirates Baderon, the proprietor of the Drowning Wench, has need of a capable adventurer.

Baderon: I thank ye fer takin' the time to 'elp me out. Now, I'm sure yer busy, so I'll come straight to the point. Baderon: Word 'as it some suspicious-lookin' buggers 'ave been sneakin' in an' out o' the Sastasha Seagrot, an' I need a trustworthy sort to 'ead up north of Aleport an' find out who they are an' what they're up to. Baderon: Don't sound like much, I know... Baderon: But it weren't so long ago as the fishbacks' pet pirates paid us an unwelcome visit, an' folk are feelin' a bit nervous. Baderon: But since that nasty business over in Swiftperch, folk've been a bit uneasy. Well, I say “a bit”... 'Tis all they can do not to soil 'emselves every time the bloody floorboards creak. Reyner: If you would permit me, Master Baderon, I should be happy to elaborate. Baderon: Well, well, if it ain't the chief Yellowjacket 'imself. To what do I owe this rare honor, Commodore Reyner? Come to make sure me patrons are behavin'─or just thirsty? Reyner: Neither, in fact. I was informed that you had requested an adventurer to assist in my investigation, and I came to offer what information I could sift from recent reports. Reyner: Neither, in fact. I came to welcome Dietrich back to Limsa Lominsa. It is well you have returned. Reyner: Over the course of the past moon, there have been several sightings of an unfamiliar vessel off the coast of Aleport, in the vicinity of the Isles of Umbra. Reyner: This information came to my attention no more than a few weeks after a squad of my own soldiers had completed a routine patrol of the region, the Sastasha Seagrot included. Reyner: Their search revealed little, save that a family of coeurls had taken up residence in the caves. Nothing to concern us, in short. Reyner: In light of recent developments, however, it would seem wise to search Sastasha again. Reyner: But with the Sahagin testing our defenses daily, I am loath to assign the task to the limited forces at my disposal. Our line is stretched as it is. Reyner: Thus I sought the services of a competent adventurer to conduct an investigation in our stead. Any aid you can offer in this matter would be greatly appreciated. Reyner: Then it is settled. Reyner: Sastasha is located in western La Noscea. For more detailed instructions on how to reach the place, I suggest you consult V'mellpa. She can be found at the ferry docks on the lower decks. Baderon: You 'eard the man! Good luck to ye, lasslad!

V'mellpa: You're here about Commodore Reyner's investigation? Then you'll want to board a ferry bound for Aleport. V'mellpa: Once you arrive in western La Noscea, though, you'd best pay a visit to the Hall of the Novice before you blunder into Sastasha. V'mellpa: The Adventurers' Guild runs the Hall, and the folk there will prepare you─train you with the skills you'll need to face the dangers undoubtedly waiting for you in the Seagrot. V'mellpa: The Hall is on the way to Sastasha, just north of Aleport. Head inside and one of their seasoned adventurers will take you in hand. Best of luck to you, friend!

V'mellpa: No matter what they've told you, be ready for pirates. There's never any shortage of the bastards. This is Limsa Lominsa we're talking about...

Seasoned Adventurer: Ah, you must be the adventurer of whom the Yellowjackets sent word. I hear you are to brave the depths of the Sastasha Seagrot. Seasoned Adventurer: The occupants of those caves are rumored to be as numerous as they are bloodthirsty. No matter what the epic tales would have you believe, strolling into such a den of savagery alone would be the height of foolishness. No, you shall need companions. Seasoned Adventurer: And you shall need the training we here at the Hall of the Novice can provide! I strongly suggest that you study the fundamentals of group combat before continuing on your mission. Seasoned Adventurer: The Smith here oversees the training schedules. Speak with him, and you can register for exercises tailored to your particular field of expertise. Seasoned Adventurer: When you have mastered all that our masters have to teach, then it will be time to head north once more. Report to the Yellowjacket scout at the mouth of the Sastasha Seagrot, and he will furnish you with the details of your duty.

Seasoned Adventurer: When your skills have been honed and your mind sharpened, continue onwards to the north. The Yellowjacket scout stationed before the Sastasha Seagrot will have the details of your mission.

Isildaure: Ah, a fellow adventurer. You, too, are here to unravel the mysteries of Sastasha? Isildaure: I have adventured across this wide realm for more seasons than I dare to count, yet still Eorzea manages to surprise me with her beauty and splendor. Isildaure: Our journeys are not ended by the attainment of riches or fame. It is an unquenchable thirst for the unknown that drives us into the wilds time and again. Isildaure: Even if I explored the world for a thousand years, I would never grow weary of this life.

Alianne: Grandfather and I are companions on the road. Alianne: We travel where the wind takes us, and drink in all the wonders this world has to offer. Alianne: Only an adventurer can understand the joy of such freedom─of discovering hidden places and experiencing sights and sounds that few may ever know. Alianne: The passing years have begun to take their toll on the old man, but no force save death itself will sate his appetite for adventure!

Paiyo Reiyo: This is perfect for our inaugural outing as a party─wandering around in the caves, turning over a few rocks... How difficult could it possibly be? Paiyo Reiyo: I never expected our first visit to the Adventurers' Guild would yield such a straightforward way to win fame and fortune.

Avere: What took ye so bloody long, Edda? If me purse was too light, ye might've considered usin' some of yer own bleedin' coin to get us what we need! Avere: Ye've only ever been as useful as the contents o' yer pockets─the gods know ye can barely 'eal a scratch! Avere: We took up the 'venturin' life to take on the big jobs an' claim the big rewards. How're we meant to do that if ye can't even get our supplies in order? Avere: Hm? It's 'er'im─the one Baderon was talkin' to! Avere: Well, we'll see who gets the glory! This job should've been ours in the first place!

Edda: I-I'm sorry, Avere! I came as fast as I could! Edda: I tried haggling with the merchant, but two potions was the best I could get with the money you gave me. I had no idea how expensive they were!

Liavinne: Bwahahaha! Edda, you're so slow, you'd lose a footrace to a tree slug.

Yellowjacket: Please tell me you're here on Yellowjacket duty, and not some daft sod out for a stroll. I can't take any more of this blasted waiting. You are? Thank the gods. Yellowjacket: I assume you already know about the ship seen slipping around the Isles of Umbra? Yellowjacket: We've been on the lookout for pirate activity ever since that vessel was sighted, thinking a crew of cutthroats might have a den nearby. Yellowjacket: So when we received word that men of questionable quality had been seen passing in and out of Sastasha here, we weren't entirely surprised. Yellowjacket: I've yet to see them for myself, but if this lot belongs to those fishback-fancying Serpent Reavers... Yellowjacket: Well, you can imagine the panic it'll cause. The kidnappings are still fresh in people's minds. Yellowjacket: Anyway, your task is to poke around in the caves, and find out exactly who we're dealing with. While you do that, I'll be keeping watch out here...praying you don't spot any blue face tattoos.

Yellowjacket: The fishbacks and their Serpent Reaver lackeys cannot be allowed to establish a permanent base in these lands. Yellowjacket: You must uncover the truth behind who or what is lurking in these caves, adventurer. The peace of western La Noscea may depend on it!

Sastasha

After a period of relative silence following the Calamity, the Serpent Reavers have once again taken to terrorizing the inland hamlets of La Noscea—killing the men, kidnapping the women and children, plundering the storehouses and burning what little they leave behind. For years, it was not known how the pirates were able to raid areas so far from the coast, until a local shepherd sighted a band of painted ruffians entering the Sastasha Seagrot, carrying large quantities of sacks and crates. Could it be that there is more to this cave than meets the eye?

Eager Marauder: This is it. Eager Thaumaturge: Let's give it our all!

Bloody Memo: You find a bloodstained scrap of parchment with a message scrawled upon it in faded ink.

“The Capten lykes his cabege Green.”

You find a switch. Press it?
Yes
No

You hear something move in the distance.

Eager Conjurer: The door's guardian, no doubt.

A hidden door opens!

Colibri: Squawk! Captain Madison: How did ye find this place!? Colibri: Scurvy dog! Scurvy dog! Squawk! Captain Madison: Me loyal pups! Captain Madison: Come closer. I'll slit yer throat and toss yer corpse to the mad serpent. Colibri: Batten down the hatches! Batten down the hatches! Squawk! Captain Madison: Wh-Where are me men!? Wh-Where are me maidens!? Colibri: Cap'n is strong! Cap'n is strong! Squawk! Captain Madison: Try an' catch me, ye two-legged lubber! Colibri: Two-legged lubber! Two-legged lubber! Squawk! Eager Conjurer: Where has he run off to...? Best we keep on our guard.

Lalafellin Woman: You must save us!

Shallowtail Reaver: Die! The shallowscale Reaver drops a captain's quarters key. You obtain a captain's quarters key.

Unlock the door to the captain's quarters?
Yes
No

The Captain's Quarters opens.

Miqo'te Woman: What shall it be tonight, Cap— You're not the captain! Miqo'te Woman: I'm not one of them! I swear it on what little remains of my virtue! Lalafellin Woman: Who are you!? The shallowtail Reaver drops a Waverider Gate key. You obtain a Waverider Gate key.

Unlock Waverider Gate?
Yes
No

Waverider Gate opens.

Captain Madison: Back fer more, eh? I sharpened me blade, just fer this very occasion. Colibri: Squawk! Colibri: Scurvy Scurvy dog! Squawk! Captain Madison: What do you see now? Nothin'! Nothin' at all! Captain Madison: Eat 'em alive! Captain Madison releases the scurvy dogs! Colibri: Batten down the hatches! Batten down the hatches! Squawk! Colibri: Cap'n is strong! Cap'n is strong! Squawk! Captain Madison: M-M-Might ye consider a parley? Colibri: Parley! Parley! Parley! Squaaawk! Eager Thaumaturge: He won't escape next time!

Shallowscale Reaver: To the abyss with ye!

Denn the Orcatoothed: Pshhh... You sssully our ssspawning groundsss, shorewalker!

Denn the Orcatoothed: Pshhh! Finleshhh fools! Denn the Orcatoothed: The Lord of the Whorl shhhall sssup upon your sssouls! Eager Conjurer: So, their leader was a Sahagin? An easy victory, then.

Baderon: Aye, such a task was on the books. “Was,” mind. I'm afraid that ship 'as already sailed, friend. Dolorous Bear: Ah. Might you be the adventurer who accepted the job of investigating Sastasha? Dolorous Bear: Hmph. It would seem that ship has not only sailed, but now returns to harbor, none the worse for its voyage. A pity. We dragged our boots too long on this one. E'manafa: No matter. The wheel will turn and our chance will come. Dolorous Bear: You are right, of course. But there shall be no rest till we have attained our goal, lofty though it may be! Kikina: Not a wink of sleep, great leader! Dolorous Bear: Our aim, lest you wonder, is to perform such feats of heroism as will earn us a place in the songs of every alehouse in Eorzea. We mean to write a legend which will inspire adventurers as yet unborn to follow our shining example. Dolorous Bear: Do you have such a goal? Large or small, it matters not. Only have a star to reach for and you will reach higher. Dolorous Bear: Purpose can sustain you through times of hardship. Keep your eye on the prize, and all obstacles will be overcome in time. Dolorous Bear: You would not think to stride into battle unclad, would you? Well, goals are as arms and armor for the spirit! I wish you fortune in your endeavors, miladysir! Baderon: Back then, are ye? With all yer limbs, an' a tale to tell, I'll wager. Baderon: Fishbacks? An' there I was thinkin' ye'd only 'ave to crack a pirate skull or three. Seven hells... Ye turn yer back fer five bloody minutes, an' the scaly bastards've set up shop on yer bleedin' doorstep... Baderon: Still, sounds like ye left 'em in pieces, so I don't s'pose they'll be carryin' out whatever mischief they was plannin'─unless they was plannin' on feedin' 'emselves to the fauna o' Sastasha, o' course. Anyroad, all's well that ends well! Baderon: On behalf o' Limsa, I thank ye fer sheddin' some light on this mystery. Ye've lived up to yer reputation, an' I couldn't ask fer no more'n that. Baderon: Thanks fer sheddin' some light on this mystery. I knew ye'd get the job done, lasslad─ye always do! Baderon: Now, I'll bet yer dyin' fer a rest, but just in case yer not, I was wonderin' if ye might be interested in takin' on another job? It just so 'appens that I've 'ad a request from our sister guild in Gridania, see. Baderon: Seems the forest folk're in need of a 'venturer what can get things done. Baderon: Fer them to ask fer 'elp like this, ye can bet the task won't be no skip through a sunny glade. But after the way ye dealt with our fishback infestation, I doubt it's anythin' ye can't 'andle. Baderon: Give us a shout when yer ready, an' I'll lay it out fer ye.

Call of the Forest Baderon has information on a new task.

Baderon: Ready to 'ear about that job, then? Like I said, the request comes from our sister guild in Gridania. Baderon: ...An' that's all I know. But whatever it is ye get asked to do, I some'ow doubt it'd pose any trouble fer a 'venturer as survived the bedlam in Sastasha. Baderon: If ye think ye might be interested, ye'll want to 'ave words with Mother Miounne, me counterpart in Gridania. Good luck, lass!

Mother Miounne: Take a seat wherever you like, friend. Our waitress will come to take your─ Mother Miounne: Oh? Not here to dine? Dare I hope that you're the adventurer Baderon sent word about?
...You are!? The Matron be praised! Mother Miounne: Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Miounne, and the Carline Canopy is my place. Mother Miounne: With regard to the task in question, there is a fair bit to tell. Let me know when you're ready to hear the details, and I shall brief you.

Mother Miounne: Take a seat wherever you like, friend. Our waitress will come to take your─ Mother Miounne: Oh, it's you, Forename! 'Tis so good to see you again! ...What's that? Here at Baderon's suggestion, you say? Mother Miounne: The foul-mouthed rogue sends me word that an adventurer might be along for the job, and it turns out to be you! Well, this makes things a lot easier, doesn't it? Mother Miounne: With regard to the task in question, there is a fair bit to tell. Let me know when you're ready to hear the details, and I shall brief you.

Fire in the Gloom Miounne is waiting to brief you on your task.

Mother Miounne: Ready for that briefing? Good! Now then, here's the long and short of it... Lewin: Beg pardons for interrupting, Miounne, but our need grows ever more pressing. Have none stepped forward? Mother Miounne: And good morrow to you too, Bowlord! Your need must be pressing indeed for you to honor us with a visit. The good news is: your journey hasn't been wasted. I'm pleased to report that we have a volunteer at last, and one who comes highly recommended, at that. Lewin: My thanks for answering the call, friend. My name is Lewin, and I lead the men and women of the Gods' Quiver. Lewin: Well, if it isn't our very own woman for all seasons! You certainly have a knack for appearing when you're most needed, Forename. My thanks for answering the call. Lewin: Now, time is of the essence, so I shall proceed directly to the heart of the matter. We wish for you to nip a potential threat to Gridania in the bud. Mother Miounne: Beneath the Central Shroud, there lies an underground burial site called the Tam-Tara Deepcroft. Mother Miounne: The place was once a Gelmorran settlement, but we Gridanians have long interred our dead there. Lewin: Of late, however, shadowy figures have been seen skulking about the Deepcroft, and with ever-increasing regularity. Lewin: Based on the accounts of various witnesses, we suspect that these individuals belong to the Lambs of Dalamud, a doomsday cult which sprung up prior to the Calamity. Lewin: These zealots have proven themselves dangerous in the past, and we leave them to their own devices at our peril. Lewin: Ordinarily, I would have dispatched my best men to scour the Deepcroft with orders to flush the cultists out. Lewin: Alas, the Calamity decimated our ranks, and the limited forces at my disposal are constantly required to keep the Ixal at bay.

Lewin: The birdmen have grown restless of late, and I fear a storm may be brewing. In anticipation of this, I have been compelled to spread our forces throughout the Twelveswood, lest we be taken unawares. Lewin: The situation so being, we must turn to others to deal with the Lambs of Dalamud. Can we rely on you to undertake this task, friend?

Lewin: Since we thwarted their attack on the Guardian Tree, the birdmen have not allowed us a moment's respite. They have probed every ilm of our defenses in search of a weakness, compelling me to spread our forces far more thinly than I would like. Lewin: The situation so being, we have no choice but to entrust the task of dealing with the Lambs of Dalamud to others. Can we rely on you to handle this matter, Forename?

Lewin: You have my gratitude. Lewin: Once you've seen to your preparations, pray make your way to the Deepcroft, and identify yourself to the guard posted at the entrance. He will apprise you of the latest developments. That is all. Mother Miounne: Be careful out there, you hear? May the Crystal guide you and keep you!

Dolorous Bear: So we meet again! I cannot say I'm surprised to see you here. Dolorous Bear: You took the prize back in Limsa, but this time we will give you better sport, or I am no true adventurer!

E'manafa: Gods, I hate mausoleums... It's not right to disturb the dead in their slumber...

Kikina: Think of our goal, sister! One day, our adventures will be the stuff of song, and it will all be worth it!

Isildaure: <pant> <pant> ...Childish curiosity prompted me to commit the most elementary of blunders. Isildaure: Were it not for the fruit that Alianne found, my adventures may well have ended in this forbidding place. Isildaure: Always look before you leap... In my haste, this most fundamental rule of adventuring slipped my mind. <sigh> I do believe I shall rest here awhile.

Alianne: I shudder to think what might have happened to Isildaure had I not thought to pick the fruit I stumbled across on the way here. Alianne: Sometimes he has too much vigor for his own good. Age is supposed to mellow us, but if anything it has made him more impetuous. Alianne: I understand his desire to make use of the time left to him, but one misstep, and there won't be any.

Gods' Quiver Bow: You're Forename Surname, I take it? Thanks for helping us out, friend. Gods' Quiver Bow: No doubt the Bowlord has already informed you, but your task is to enter the Deepcroft and purge it of the Lambs of Dalamud. Gods' Quiver Bow: In case you're unfamiliar with them, the cult emerged shortly before the Calamity put an end to the Sixth Astral Era. Gods' Quiver Bow: The cultists took the lesser moon, Dalamud, for their god, believing that it would deliver them from the devastation. Gods' Quiver Bow: And so they were rather disappointed when Dalamud exploded into a thousand flaming pieces before it could complete its descent. Gods' Quiver Bow: Now, having seen their god turn to ash, one would think that the cultists might feel moved to question their faith. On the contrary, it served only to stoke the flames of their fanaticism. Gods' Quiver Bow: The Lambs of Dalamud are convinced that “heretics”─that is to say, everyone but them─interfered with the coming of their lord and savior, and that it's now their sacred duty to avenge him. Gods' Quiver Bow: Whatever it is they're doing in the Deepcroft, you may be sure that no good will come of it. For the sake of Gridania, and Eorzea at large, put an end to their madness.

Gods' Quiver Bow: The Lambs of Dalamud are hells-bent on avenging their imaginary god, and will stop at nothing till their dark work is done. Gods' Quiver Bow: They must not be suffered to desecrate the Deepcroft. For the sake of the souls laid to rest here, and all of Gridania, put an end to their madness.

The Tam-Tara Deepcroft

Since its establishment during the Gelmorran times, this subterranean crypt has been used for generations as a final resting place for the remains of rulers and nobles. Since the Calamity, however, the tunnels have become overrun with the Lambs of Dalamud—a deadly cult who worships the now-fallen satellite as their savior. It is in the Deepcroft that these twisted souls silently plot revenge against those who fought to prevent the advent of Dalamud, summoning any dark presence who will aid them to this end... no matter what the cost.

Galvanth the Dominator: You seem surprised. Did you not cross our gates in search of blood? Galvanth the Dominator: Come hither, children of the dawn. The undying master will drink deep tonight!

Mother Miounne: Welcome back, Forename! I'm reliably informed that your foray into the Deepcroft was a success. Mother Miounne: Nor did I expect anything less. Baderon's ringing endorsement left me in little doubt as to your capabilities. Even so, you are to be commended. Mother Miounne: Nor did I expect anything less. You've made such a habit of succeeding that it's difficult not to take your talents for granted. Rest assured, however: Mother is impressed, even if she isn't surprised. Mother Miounne: Bowlord Lewin asked me to pass on his thanks. Mother Miounne: I must say, it's something of a relief to be able to call upon such a capable adventurer. Mother Miounne: Sadly, death has become an ever more common occurrence within our fraternity of late. Times being what they are, the guild is constantly inundated with petitions, and we are hard-pressed to find enough hands to deal with them all. Mother Miounne: While this means no shortage of work for able souls such as yourself, it also provides ample opportunity for the inexperienced to overreach themselves─with predictable consequences. Ah...as if to illustrate the point... Liavinne: Avere's gone, and it's all your fault! If it hadn't taken you an age to heal him, he would still be alive! Edda: <sniff> B-But I tried! He bolted out of range before I could finish the spell! Edda: <sob> He shouldn't have been so hard-pressed in the first place... We should've done more to lighten his burden... Paiyo Reiyo: Bah! To the hells with this pathetic excuse for a party! I'm leaving, and it'd be too soon if I never see your faces again! Good-bye, and good riddance! Liavinne: I'm leaving as well. I doubt this comes as any surprise, but I never liked you. I only suffered you for your healing, but you couldn't even do that one thing right. Cruel though this may sound, you brought this upon yourself. Liavinne: Oh, and by way of some parting advice...get rid of Avere's head! Bury it, cremate it, do whatever the hells you like with it─but for gods' sakes, stop carrying it around! It's...it's just... Just get rid of it, all right!? Edda: W-Wait! Don't leave me alone! Please! Edda: <sob> I'm so sorry, Avere... Please forgive me... Mother Miounne: Scenes like this have become all too common. That makes a dozen times in half as many days... Mother Miounne: Now you see why I'm grateful for adventurers of your experience. I can send women like you on a mission without worrying that you might not return─well, not so much, at any rate. Mother Miounne: Speaking of missions, I would entrust you with another. Mother Miounne: About a bell ago, I received a message from my counterpart in Ul'dah. She seeks the services of a reliable adventurer, and you are nothing if not reliable. Mother Miounne: If you think you might be interested in this task, say the word, and I will be glad to share the details with you.

Call of the Desert Miounne has information on a new task.

Mother Miounne: So, you're not averse to taking a little trip? Wonderful! Mother Miounne: As I mentioned earlier, the request comes to us from the Adventurers' Guild in Ul'dah. Once you arrive, seek out Momodi, the proprietress of the Quicksand. Think of her as the sultanate's version of myself. Mother Miounne: Chances are she'll send you into the midst of danger, but I have every confidence that you will pull through unscathed. Now, off you go, Forename, and good luck!

Momodi: Welcome to the Quicksand, friend. I'm a tad busy right now, if you wouldn't mind showin' yourself to─ Momodi: Judgin' by your determined expression, I take it you ain't here for ale. Are you called Forename Surname, by any chance? Momodi: Oh, it's you, Forename! And there I was, spoutin' the same tired line! Momodi: Miounne sent word that you'd be reportin' for duty. She also made a point of callin' you the adventurer of the moment. That ain't no small praise, comin' from her. Momodi: But you didn't come all the way here to listen to my prattle. Doubtless you're eager to get started, so let's talk business, shall we?

Into a Copper Hell Momodi is waiting to brief you on your task.

Momodi: The petitioner ought to be arrivin' any moment now... Papashan: Gods almighty! Another second under that sun, and I would have been set afire! A tankard of ale, if you would be so kind! Momodi: Excellent timin', Papashan. It just so happens the adventurer who'll be handlin' your petition is here.

Papashan: So this winsome lass is the much-lauded adventurer, is she? Marvelous, marvelous! Papashan: A pleasure to make your acquaintance, milady. I am Papashan, formerly of the Sultansworn. I thank you for agreeing to lend us your aid.

Papashan: Oh? Why, if it isn't my good friend Forename! Papashan: It does my spirit well to know that you are the one who will be helping us.

Momodi: Mayhap you'd like to apprise Forename of her mission? Papashan: Yes, of course. The petition in question was submitted by an acquaintance of mine at Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern. It relates to an unfortunate development at Copperbell Mines. Papashan: To be plain, giants have seized control of the place. Papashan: These giants are of the clan known as the hecatoncheires─fearsome creatures who were sealed within the deepest depths of the mines during the bygone Thorne Dynasty. Papashan: Alas, it seems they have managed to break through the layer of rock which served to imprison them, and now prowl the tunnels where the miners ply their trade. The creatures are justifiably angry about their treatment at the hands of our ancestors, and their presence has forced the suspension of all mining activities on the site. Momodi: It's no wonder they're angry. Didn't the Thorne Dynasty come to an end over three hundred years ago? Papashan: You know your history well, milady. Papashan: The people of that age used the hecatoncheires to work their mines. By way of enchanted helms, they were able to bind the ferocious creatures to their will. But as is oft the way in such tales, these enchantments eventually failed, and the slaves rose up against their masters. Papashan: In a desperate bid to contain the unbridled fury of the hecatoncheires, our ancestors induced the collapse of the mines' lowermost levels. So it was that the Great Giant Revolt was ended─buried beneath a hundred thousand tonzes of rock. Momodi: Well, now...that's got me thinkin'... I seem to recall there bein' an article about Copperbell in the Mythril Eye a fortnight or so ago. Momodi: It said the mines were bein' reopened so as to meet the risin' demand for buildin' materials. Like as not, our boys dug a bit too deep and freed the giants. Momodi: Gods...to think the poor creatures are still alive an' kickin' after three centuries... That's a long time to nurse a grudge. They must be seethin'... Papashan: Indeed. And that makes them a danger to us all. There will be no mining at Copperbell so long as they remain. For the sake of both peace and prosperity, they must be subdued. This is the task which we would have you undertake. Papashan: I'll not deny that the mission will be rife with danger, but our need is great. And so I beg you: put an end to this sorry business. Papashan: Gods bless you! I feared you might have reservations, but I assure you it is for the best. Momodi: Hmmm... In case you don't know, Copperbell Mines are in western Thanalan. Do take care, you hear? Papashan: Ah, and one last thing before you depart... An employee of Amajina & Sons is presently at the Quicksand. The fellow's name is Painted Mesa, and he knows Copperbell Mines well. It may behoove you to seek his counsel.

Painted Mesa: Lookin' for Painted Mesa? You found him. Painted Mesa: So you're the adventurer who's volunteered to deal with the mess down in Copperbell, are you? Painted Mesa: You've got guts, miss. I just hope you've got skills to go with 'em, 'cause things ain't pretty down there. The hecatoncheires've left the place in a right state, and nary a week after minin' resumed. Painted Mesa: I don't know if you know this, but Copperbell was old when the second Ul Dynasty was still young, and it was abandoned centuries ago. If it hadn't been for the shortage of materials needed for the rebuildin' effort, the Concern would never have thought to reopen it. Painted Mesa: We knew full well about the giants beforehand, but the project went ahead anyway. I mean, nothin' could possibly survive bein' buried under a mountain's worth of rock for three centuries, right? Wrong! Painted Mesa: Our miners dug up more than they bargained for. One swing of the pickaxe too many, and they found 'emselves in the company of giants. Unless we can subdue 'em, the nation's glorious recovery'll grind to a halt for want of aught to build with. Painted Mesa: The Stone Torches're keepin' watch over the entrance in case the giants fancy some sunlight and fresh air. One of 'em will be able to show you the way in. The hope of the nation's restin' on you, friend. Best of luck!

Painted Mesa: The hope of the nation's restin' on your shoulders, friend. Send them giants back to whichever of the seven hells they escaped from!

Stone Torch: There's been an incident inside Copperbell Mines. We are here to ensure that its effects are contained, but for your own safety, I suggest you stay well away from here. Stone Torch: What? You're the adventurer who's volunteered to quell the hecatoncheires? Stone Torch: I didn't think that Papashan would be able to find someone so quickly...if at all. Stone Torch: The giants are content to wreak havoc inside the mines for now, but it's only a matter of time before they think to come outside. The sooner you see to them, the better. Make ready as best you can, and enter at will.

Stone Torch: Good luck in there, adventurer. We Stone Torches will continue our vigil here, lest the foe slip by you.

Copperbell Mines

Abandoned once purged of ore, the Copperbell Mines laid abandoned for nigh on three centuries until Amajina and Sons Mineral Concern reclaimed the shafts—the guild's sights set on expanding the mines downward in an attempt to tap yet undiscovered veins of valuable metal. Unfortunately, it was not riches the powder kegs uncovered, but sheer terror, for when the smoke cleared, out poured an army of raging giants from the darkest recesses of the mines. The hecatoncheires—thralls of the lost Thorne dynasty—were, at last, free from their lightless prison; three hundred years of hate fueling their madness.

??? (Gyges the Great): SLAVES NO MORE! FREE! FREEEEEE!

Gyges the Great: MASTERS MUST PAY! MASTERS MUST DIE! Gyges the Great: NEVER AGAIN! NEVER!

Painted Mesa: Ah, the conqueror of Copperbell returns! Painted Mesa: Thanks to you, our minin' operations can resume, and Ul'dah will have the materials she needs to rebuild. The entire nation's in your debt, friend. Painted Mesa: I'll share the good tidin's with Papashan the next time I see him. As for you, you'll want to report to Momodi. It'll do the woman well to see you alive and in one piece. ??? (Desperate Damsel): Noooooo! Obnoxious Merchant: Shut your mouth, you thieving little swine! You stole from me─don't even think to deny it! Desperate Damsel: P-Please, sir, I didn't steal nothin'! Desperate Damsel: I b-bought this─paid for it with me own coin! Obnoxious Merchant: What rot! You refugees are all the same─couldn't afford maggoty mole meat, much less a choice cut of dodo! Obnoxious Merchant: I'm going to say it one more time: give back what you stole, or I'll make you wish you'd never set foot in this town! Obnoxious Merchant: By rights, I should turn you over to the Brass Blades, you know─help keep the streets safe for law-abiding citizens. But I'm a reasonable man. If you agree to serve me in...whatever capacity I require, the authorities needn't hear of your crime. Desperate Damsel: B-But I ain't done nothin' wrong! Twelve as me witness! Desperate Damsel: P-Please, adventurer! Help me, I beg o' ye! Desperate Damsel: I swear on me mother's grave, I didn't steal nothin'! I bought this with the coin I'd saved... I only wanted to treat me children to a decent meal... Obnoxious Merchant: And who the hells are you when you're at home!? This dog's master? Obnoxious Merchant: I've had enough of this mummer's farce. You lot, teach them a lesson!

Filthy Bodyguard: <belch> I'll take care o' this. The rest o' ye can watch. Filthy Bodyguard: Hmph! Not bad...for an adventurer! Filthy Bodyguard: Ugh... I should've stopped at the seventh ale... Filthy Bodyguard: Stop bloody gawpin' at me and give me a hand, will ye!? Filthy Bodyguard: Bugger, bugger, BUGGER!

Boastful Bodyguard: I ain't gettin' paid enough for this! Obnoxious Merchant: H-Hey! Where the hells do you think you're going!? Desperate Damsel: Thank ye, kind adventurer! Thank ye thrice over!

Young City-dweller: I'd swear there were more refugees than when I last looked... Concerned Citizen: And you wouldn't be mistaken. Young City-dweller: But it's been five years since the Calamity! Why are they only coming here now? Concerned Citizen: It's simple, really─while a number of hamlets survived the immediate aftermath of the Calamity, many were no longer able to support their communities. Concerned Citizen: The residents found their lands had either been rendered barren, or cut off from trade routes─and problems like those aren't easily solved. Though they tried to make the best of it, it was only a matter of time before they were forced to abandon their homes and seek a new life in the city. Young City-dweller: I see... Young City-dweller: But the Calamity affected the whole realm, didn't it? Is the same thing happening in the other cities? Concerned Citizen: If the talk is true, yes. Concerned Citizen: Though perhaps our situation is more pronounced. Ul'dah has a reputation for being prosperous, so it's natural that the refugees would try their luck here first. Young City-dweller: My heart goes out to them, it truly does...but I would be lying if I said that I wasn't apprehensive. I hope their presence doesn't foment lawlessness in the city. Concerned Citizen: Well, if things do take a turn for the worse, we always have the Immortal Flames. I daresay the Brass Blades would welcome their help. Young City-dweller: The heroes who fought the Garlean Empire, patrolling the streets for riffraff? Concerned Citizen: It may well come to that. Concerned Citizen: Impoverished and desperate as they are, you may be sure that some of the refugees will turn to crime. Concerned Citizen: You know what this place is like. If you've no coin, you've no hope. Young City-dweller: <sigh> What will become of our city? Concerned Citizen: Not all refugees are bad, mind you. Some are able to find employment and lead honest lives. Sure-voiced Salesman: Dodo tenderloins! Get yer dodo tenderloins! Guaranteed cheapest in Thanalan! Sure-voiced Salesman: Thank ye for yer custom, madam! Please come again! Young City-dweller: Looking around, you'd think that Ul'dah was well on its way to recovery. Young City-dweller: But peer through the veil of prosperity and you'll see no end to the misery and suffering.

Desperate Damsel: Er...madam? Are ye all right? Obnoxious Merchant: Wh-What now!? You mean to threaten a defenseless citizen!? Obnoxious Merchant: ...What? Saw her buy that meat, you say? Th-That's absurd! ??? (Bystander): Aye, as did I! Leave the poor woman alone, you damnable vulture! Obnoxious Merchant: Wh-Who said that!? Obnoxious Merchant: Grrr! I will overlook this...but just this once! Desperate Damsel: Gods bless ye, adventurer! If ye hadn't come along when ye did, who knows what that monster might've done!? It don't bear thinkin' about... ??? (Lyse): Case closed! Yda (Lyse): Hello again! Papalymo: We have been keeping a close eye on you ever since you left Gridania. Papalymo: You discharged your duty as envoy impeccably, and never once faltered in the face of myriad dangers. Yda (Lyse): But more importantly, you were always ready to help those in need, even if you didn't stand to earn a gil by doing so! Papalymo: You are possessed of all the qualities we seek in an adventurer, of this we are convinced. Yda (Lyse): Even if you were kind of dragged into that business with the dodo meat. Papalymo: Yes, thank you, Yda. Ahem. And then there is the matter of your gift. I daresay you are curious as to the nature of the vision you bore witness to moments ago? Well, we can help you to understand it. Yda (Lyse): You're not the only one with that power, you know. We have a friend who has it too, and we'd love for you to meet her. Papalymo: And meeting her is only the beginning, for we would also have you lend your strength to our cause. In return, we should be glad to assist your adventuring endeavors in whatever way we are able. Papalymo: Should you decide to take us up on our offer─and I sincerely hope you will─pray speak with Momodi. The proprietress of the Quicksand is a good friend of ours. She will tell you where to find us. Yda (Lyse): Waaait a minute─we haven't even told you the name of our order! We're the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, defenders of justice! Oh, but don't tell anyone. Except for Momodi. She knows already.

Momodi: Hmph. Scenes like that are becomin' ever more common, I'm afraid. Don't worry, though─if you work hard, you'll probably be all right. Momodi: Sayin' that, if you ever find yourself in a spot of bother, come and see me. Just don't go pesterin' me every time you graze your knee, eh? Momodi: ...'Course, I do enjoy hearin' tell of a gentleman's woes with the womenfolk from time to time... Momodi: Ah, Forename! Sorry to keep you waitin'─I was just providin' guidance to a fresh-off-the-carriage adventurer. Momodi: But gods, it's good to see you safe and well! To look at you, no one would ever guess you'd been hard at it with giants in the dark! Momodi: You're every ilm the adventurer Miounne said you'd be, Forename. The stationmaster will be overjoyed when he hears the news! Momodi: Oh, before I forget, there's a lass here who wants a word with you. Didn't actually know your name, but hearin' her description, I knew who she meant right away. Edda: Th-Thank you for sparing the time. I realize you don't know me, but I've been longing to speak with you for a while now. Edda: My name is Edda. I'm an adventurer like you, though I'm not very good at being one, if truth be told. Anyway, I was adventuring with my friends in Gridania when...when... I-I'm sorry. We were in Gridania...when the leader of our party was killed. Edda: His name was Avere, and he and I were to be wed in the spring. You may not remember him, but to say that he remembered you would be an understatement. He would sing your praises from dawn to dusk. He saw you for what you are, you see─an adventurer's adventurer─and swore that he would be like you one day. Edda: I believe that he would have succeeded...had a fiend not robbed him of the chance. Since that day, I have thought long and hard about giving up adventuring. Edda: But when I think of the woman you are─of all that you've achieved─I find that I am inspired, just as Avere once was. Edda: And so I've decided to start again as an adventurer. I will go back to the village of my birth and begin my training anew. Edda: But I wanted to meet you first...to ask you your name. Edda: Forename Surname... I shan't forget. Edda: Thank you, Forename Surname. I pray that we will meet again. Fare you well! Momodi: Adventurin' can be a cruel bleedin' business... Time was, I didn't know why anyone would bother. When they first asked me to take charge of the guild here, I didn't want aught to do with you lot─thought it'd be a right pain in the arse lookin' after you all. Momodi: But against my better judgment, I decided to accept the post...and I'm full glad I did. I feel privileged to be a part of your lives. Momodi: And that goes double for yours, Forename! Momodi: ...Eh? What did you say? You want to know about the Scions of the Seventh Dawn? Momodi: They're beginnin' to move in earnest, then... Momodi: Listen, Forename─the Scions ain't no ordinary folk, and the work they do ain't no ordinary work. I know full well how capable you are, but even you would think twice about attemptin' some of the stuff they do. Knowin' that, if you're still certain you want to get involved, I'll tell you what I can.

The Scions of the Seventh Dawn Momodi is ready to tell you what she knows about the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.

Momodi: So you want to know more, then, do you? Well, ain't that a surprise... I swear, if I painted “CERTAIN DEATH” on one door and “LIMITLESS WEALTH” on another, nine out of ten adventurers would go through the first, and the other bloke wouldn't be able to choose, on account of bein' Ul'dahn. Anyway, don't say I didn't warn you. Momodi: First of all, if you're wonderin' whether you can trust these “Scions of the Seventh Dawn,” you can. They're good people who've made it their mission to solve some of Eorzea's most pressin' problems. 'Course, that ain't no small task, and so they're always lookin' for dependable individuals to join 'em─individuals like you, Forename. Momodi: Now, I've been given leave to tell you where to find the Scions, but you must promise to keep this information to yourself. As you can probably imagine, it's somethin' Eorzea's enemies would very much like to know. Momodi: The Scions are headquartered in Vesper Bay, out in western Thanalan. The place you're lookin' for is called the Wakin' Sands. Give your name to whoever's at the entrance, and you'll be let in. Momodi: You're a woman in demand, Forename, and the days ahead promise to be busy, but I hope you won't forget about them as helped make you into the adventurer you are. Drop in and tell 'em how you're farin' from time to time, you hear? Right, well, I've said my piece. Off you go.

Tataru: Deep in the desert of my heart,♪ A lonely flower blooms...♪ Tataru: Yearning for the heavens above♪ To quench my thirst for you.♪ Tataru: Trololololo～lololo～♪ Tataru: Uwaaah! Tataru: <cough> Tataru: I would thank you not to sneak up on me like that! Tataru: Now, please be advised that this is private property. Unless you have pertinent business here, I must ask you to─ Tataru: Here at the behest of Yda and Papalymo!? Tataru: My sincerest apologies! May I please have your name? Tataru: Forename Surname...Forename Surname... Ah, here you are. Tataru: Ahem! I bid you welcome to the Waking Sands, headquarters of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn! Tataru: My name is Tataru, and I look forward to assisting you during your time with us. Tataru: The Antecedent is within the solar. I shall let her know to expect you.

Scion of the Seventh Dawn: I take it you are Forename Surname. Tataru sent word that you had arrived. Scion of the Seventh Dawn: Lady Minfilia has eagerly awaited your coming. This way, if you please.

??? (Minfilia): So you are the adventurer of whom I've heard so much. Minfilia: Well met, friend. My name is Minfilia, and I lead the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Minfilia: I have awaited your coming. Minfilia: Please, be at ease. You are among friends here. Minfilia: No doubt you're ripe to burst with questions, but have patience─all will be revealed in time. Minfilia: First, let me begin by telling you who we are and what we do. Minfilia: We are the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, an order that transcends political boundaries. Our single objective is the preservation of the future of Eorzea. Minfilia: Among our gravest concerns are the godlike beings known as the primals. Minfilia: Their existence is a bane upon Eorzea─nay, the world at large, and we have striven to find a lasting solution to the threat they pose. Minfilia: Our order is home to a number of individuals who, like you, possess a rare and special talent. Minfilia: This talent takes various forms, but one holds particular interest for us. Minfilia: Tell me, have you ever experienced a sudden, inexplicable loss of consciousness? Minfilia: Have you ever had the sensation of being pulled away from reality? Felt as though you were hovering in space, a mind without a body? Minfilia: All these things are the manifestations of your talent. Yours is the power to transcend the boundaries of the soul─a power known as the Echo. Minfilia: The Echo allows you to pass through the walls of a man's soul, and hear the resonations of his past. Minfilia: You will be there in his memories, and see things as he saw them. You may even interact with that which you see, though you cannot change the outcome of events. Minfilia: For another blessing, the Echo will enable you to know a man's mind even if you cannot comprehend his words. Minfilia: In short, the Echo is a truly extraordinary power. And this power is strong within you. Minfilia: It is only a shame that we cannot use it whensoever we choose. Minfilia: That's right. I too possess the Echo. Minfilia: With that established, let us return to the subject of the primals. Minfilia: So long as they exist, the realm cannot take so much as a single step towards true peace. Minfilia: Measures must be taken─measures which transcend boundaries, be they of faction, race, language, or creed. And to do so, the Scions require the aid of those with our talent. Minfilia: Make no mistake─the Echo will be instrumental in dealing with the primal threat. Without it, we cannot hope to save the realm. Minfilia: I know not what it is you desire for yourself, nor what it was that first brought you to Eorzea. Minfilia: But I firmly believe that the power we possess was given to us for a purpose. Minfilia: Why else would the gods entrust man with a gift so extraordinary, if not to have him use it? Minfilia: And so I implore you: lend us your power. Minfilia: Naturally, your aid will not go unrewarded. We are fortunate to have a number of influential allies, and at a word from me, they will gladly afford you certain privileges that might otherwise be denied you. Minfilia: The right to employ retainers, for example. Are you familiar with them? They are individuals who may be relied upon to manage your assets and belongings on your behalf. Tataru: The papers you requested, my lady. Minfilia: Thank you, Tataru. Tataru: The pleasure is mine, my lady! Minfilia: By way of a welcoming gift, I have taken the liberty of adding your name to the retainers' registry. As of now, you are entitled to employ the services of a retainer. Minfilia: You will need to consult a retainer vocate regarding the particulars of this arrangement, but believe me when I say that retainers will prove invaluable to you in your adventuring endeavors. Minfilia: Let this gesture serve as evidence of our commitment to do all in our power to facilitate your personal objectives. Minfilia: In return, we ask that you aid us to the fullest extent of your talents. Minfilia: A mutually beneficial relationship, I am sure you will agree, and one which serves the greater good besides. Minfilia: Well, that was a veritable lecture, was it not? Forgive me, but it is important that all concerned are aware of what is expected of them. Now you know our purpose, and what we can offer you, I invite you to consider joining us. When you have come to a decision, you may tell me without fear of censure. Minfilia: In good faith, I shall entrust you with our order's password, which our members use to reach one another when afield. Minfilia: It is “wild rose.” Pray keep it safe.

A Wild Rose by Any Other Name Minfilia is waiting to hear whether or not you will pledge your support to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.

Minfilia: We Scions have but one objective: to safeguard the future of Eorzea. Among our gravest concerns are the godlike beings known as the primals. Long have we striven to find a lasting solution to the threat they pose. Minfilia: I know not what it is you desire for yourself, nor what it was that first brought you to Eorzea, but I firmly believe that the power we possess was given to us for a purpose. Pray consider this when you give me your answer, Forename.

What will you say?
I will go whither the wild rose blooms.
Yours is no small endeavor... Minfilia: Small? No. Worthy? Undeniably. We labor for the good of all the realm.
The dangers are great... Minfilia: They are. Yet the risks we take are justified, given that which is at stake.
Nothing.

Minfilia: I take it you will help us. Minfilia: Wonderful! I knew you wouldn't let us down! Minfilia: But come, I would introduce you to your friends in the order. Minfilia: Tell me, does the name Sharlayan ring any bells? Minfilia: It used to be one of Eorzea's six city-states, and was situated in the northwest of Aldenard. Minfilia: The Sharlayans were the keepers of wisdom both old and new. Their mastery over magic and aether was unsurpassed, and even the Garleans knew to fear them. Minfilia: Among their number, there were a noble few who devoted their lives to safeguarding the future of Eorzea. Minfilia: When the realm began its descent into chaos, and their countrymen fled for the motherland, they alone chose to remain here. These noble men and women were called the Archons. Minfilia: Those same brave souls stand before you now. Minfilia: The masked woman is Yda, and beside her is Papalymo. The two are charged with surveying the Twelveswood. Yda (Lyse): Hello there! Papalymo: Well come! Papalymo: I had every confidence that you would agree to help us. Yda (Lyse): Me too! Yda (Lyse): Okay, my turn to introduce someone! That there is Thancred! Papalymo: He is our man here in Ul'dah, jewel of the desert. Thancred: Welcome to the team! Thancred: If I may, the lovely maiden beside me is named Y'shtola. Limsa Lominsa has the pleasure of being under her care. Y'shtola: Greetings. Y'shtola: Last but not least is Urianger, who presides over all affairs within these halls. Pray seek him out whenever you have questions. Urianger: Dawn may banish even the darkest night... Urianger: ...The words of a dear friend. I am glad of our meeting. Y'shtola: At the Battle of Carteneau, our leader was taken from us. But we did not stray from our purpose. Y'shtola: We sought out Minfilia and others with her talent, and together established the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Minfilia: Along with the Archons, those blessed with the Echo play a pivotal role in our endeavor to forge a brighter tomorrow for the realm. Minfilia: Oh, I should also introduce you to Tataru, our clerk. She ensures that everything runs smoothly. Tataru: Pleased to make your acquaintance! Minfilia: In time, I hope you will come to think of us as family. Minfilia: But without further ado... Minfilia: I would assign you your first task. Minfilia: Urianger. Have the documents arrived from the Students of Baldesion? Urianger: Aye, my lady, they arrived but recently. Minfilia: We have received a request for aid from the Immortal Flames. Minfilia: Thancred, would you do the honors? Thancred: It would be my pleasure. Thancred: Some days ago, a crystal caravan registered to Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern was waylaid and divested of its cargo. Thancred: But there is more. Within a bell of the robbery, several people were reported missing from the shantytown outside the city. Minfilia: At a glance, one would assume the involvement of bandits, kidnappers, and coincidence. Minfilia: Such crimes are hardly uncommon, and the Immortal Flames deal with their like almost every day. Minfilia: However, this time we have reason to believe that a primal is involved. Thancred: Aye, the evidence left behind implicates the Amalj'aa, who are known worshipers of Ifrit. Thancred: If we then consider the objects that were taken, there is no room left for doubt─the crimes were committed in the name of a primal. Minfilia: That you may better understand the nature of our struggle with the primals, I would have you play the leading role in this investigation. Minfilia: You have my thanks. Minfilia: If there is aught you wish to know, I recommend you speak with Thancred. He is well versed in the affairs of Ul'dah. Thancred: Ever at your service, fair lady!

Thancred: Ready to begin, are we? That's the spirit! Thancred: So then, your mission is to investigate a crystal robbery and a spate of abductions. Thancred: ...Crimes which we believe to be connected. Assuming we are correct, it is like that any discoveries we make in relation to one will further our understanding of the other. Thancred: Now, since the attack on their caravan, our friends at Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern have doubled security over all their shipments. Thancred: In light of this, it is my judgment that the abductions should be our priority. Thancred: According to our preliminary findings, the majority of the missing were last seen in the vicinity of Camp Drybone, so that would seem a fine place to begin. Thancred: A fellow by the name of Isembard serves as the camp's de facto leader. Pay him a visit, and see that he gives us his full cooperation.

Isembard: Aye, I'm Isembard. Here to search for the missing folk, I take it? Isembard: Minfilia sent word that an adventurer fitting your description would be along. Isembard: She also warned us to be wary of the Amalj'aa. It seems we know who the culprits are, at the very least. Isembard: Now, I bear no official title at this camp, but the people here have come to look to me for leadership. You have my word that I'll do all I can to help see the victims safely returned.

Unsolved Mystery Isembard of Camp Drybone is seeking help to solve a mystery of missing persons.

Isembard: Let us get right to it, then. Minfilia names the Amalj'aa culprits in all this. You would do well to investigate them, first. Isembard: Much harm has been levied on these lands by Amalj'aa hands. The Flames burn where they might, but their light cannot stay the darkness in all places at all times. Isembard: There have been brutal murders of callers at the Church of Saint Adama Landama─innocents wishing no more than to pay their respects to the dead. Isembard: The poor souls deserve a proper burial. I would see to the deed before mongrels catch their scent, but I know not if the Amalj'aa still linger. Isembard: Would you secure their remains for me, friend? You will find them on the eastern road. Isembard: Twelve willing, you may even come to learn something of what the Amalj'aa seek in this area.

Isembard: It is good to see you returned. Were you able to secure the remains of our fallen?

Ripe Corpse This poor soul appears to have been ravaged by an Amalj'aa before sitting to rot for several turns of the sun.

Isembard: With the bodies given back proper to the earth, the souls will find their way across to the other side. You have done a noble deed this day. I thank you. Isembard: Now, then, what of the Amalj'aa? Did you see any? Surely such massive monstrosities as they cannot conceal their presence, much less take their quarry unawares. Isembard: Ah, so there were Amalj'aa remaining, after all... I feared as much. Their part in the lowborn disappearing is all but confirmed. But I sense there is more to this than meets the eye. Isembard: The occasional Amalj'aa raiding party would not account for people going missing in these kinds of numbers. The total is too great, and the questions too many. It would not surprise me in the least to learn of another hand in this. Isembard: But whose? Countless travelers pass through Drybone every day. And even if it were one among them, how would we best discover who may be implicit in these vanishings?

What Poor People think Isembard aims to turn his investigation to the commonfolk.

Isembard: What say we turn an eye to the commonfolk themselves? It may be among them that we find the reasons for these vanishings, Twelve forbid it be so. Isembard: There is a merchant by the name of Ungust who was born here in Drybone and grew up in the Golden Bazaar. A...rough character, but he knows the people here better than anyone else. Isembard: I'd wager he's at the inn, quaffing away the day's earnings. Here, I'll write a note for you to show him, else he's not like to speak to you.

Ungust: <belch> Well, gods be damned! You're that bloody adventurer who threatened me back in Ul'dah! What in the seven hells do you want with me now!?

Isembard's Note A few words scrawled in code by Isembard of Drybone.

Ungust: “Dear friend... <belch> Missing people... Please help... <hiccup> Yours, Isembard.” Ungust: Folk around here are as wary as they come. They'll turn tail and run if you so much as pass wind nearby. Played them all for fools and coaxed some hard labor out of them, I did. Ungust: If anything, they're even more timid than before, what with all the disappearances. You can go talk to 'em yourself if you don't believe me.

Hungry Beggar: P-Please, miss, just leave me be...

Devious Derelict: I've nothing to say but this: Thal take who─or whatever's been feeding off us low folk.

Petrified Pauper: Wh-What do you want from me!? I d-don't know anything, I swear! Please don't kill me!

Ungust: Just as I told you, wasn't it? The whole lot of them are terrified. <hiccup> Ungust: There's been talk of folk getting abducted, but if you ask me, they simply up and moved on to a better place. This place isn't exactly Costa del Sol, if you know what I'm saying.

Isembard: Welcome back, Forename. Have you learned aught of import? Isembard: I see... I suppose I should have expected as much from Ungust. Well, another thought occurred to me in your absence. The commonfolk are nothing if not fervent in their religious beliefs. Perhaps if they speak freely to their gods, then the clergy may know something of use.

A Proper Burial Isembard would like you to learn what you can from the clergy.

Isembard: If we would know what the commonfolk speak of to their gods, we've no better place to ask than at the Church of Saint Adama Landama. It is a small and humble church, found to the northwest of here. Isembard: And so long as you are headed there...might I ask you to deliver this embalmed corpse? A morbid request, I grant you, but it must be borne to burial, and I trust none more than you to see it done. Isembard: Seek out a man named Marques─he tends the graves of the lichyard. He will tell you where the body is to be interred.

Marques (Cid): I am Marques, yes. A body? Of course... There...there have been...so many bodies of late... Marques (Cid): I... I apologize, miss. If you seek a place of burial, then there is an empty grave atop the ridge. Take the path and lay him to rest there.

Embalmed Corpse A dead body ready for interment.

Marques (Cid): May they all walk in Thal's realm... ...What? Missing people? I...I'm afraid I cannot help you. Marques (Cid): But maybe Sister Ourcen can. She has been kind to me. Everyone...everyone has been so kind. Marques (Cid): I don't know why, though. I... Pardon me. You will find Sister Ourcen within the church walls.

Ourcen: I hear you have done us the service of burying a fallen soul. Please accept our gratitude, and extend it to Isembard when next you see him. Ourcen: Hm? You seek knowledge of missing Drybone inhabitants? It is true I am closer to the people than any other of the Order. I confide in them, and they in me. When they wish to speak to their keeper, Thal, I am the medium through which they do. Ourcen: Should I learn anything pertinent, I will be sure to share the information with you. <sigh> I only wish Marques would be more helpful in the matter. I pray he did nothing to offend. He saw...terrible things during the Calamity... His scars run deep. Indeed, he seems to now prefer the company of the dead over the living. Ourcen: While tragic, I fear such behavior ill befits the church. I received word not long ago that one of our recent visitors─a man called Thancred, I believe─took offense at his conduct. I must have words with Marques, and soon.

Isembard: Thank you, Forename. A burial is no easy thing─even when the departed is a stranger. Were you able to learn aught of the missing commonfolk? Thancred: You've been keeping yourself rather busy of late, haven't you, Forename? Thancred: A pleasure, my dear Isembard. The name is Thancred, and I share a passion with you and our mutual friend here for learning what has become of these missing persons and why. Thancred: I, too, spoke with Ungust─more times than I care to count. There seems to be some truth to this notion of the commonfolk speaking their secrets only to those in service to the gods. Thancred: Prostration, prayer, penance. Abject deeds done behind closed doors, away from prying eyes. Who better to take the pious unawares than she who takes confession─the good Sister Ourcen herself? Isembard: Ourcen!? She wouldn't... She couldn't! Thancred: Even the most beautiful roses have thorns, my friend. And you would be wise to keep an eye to this rose. Thancred: Still, the lichkeeper Marques... I'd swear to the Twelve I've seen that face elsewhere before...

For the Children Isembard is concerned about the questions surrounding Sister Ourcen's integrity.

Isembard: Sister Ourcen... It cannot be. Though, she is wont to travel to the Golden Bazaar on her own, and it is not uncommon to see her speaking to the children. But...no. It could not be she...could it? Isembard: Hmmm... <sigh> I grow weary of these suspicions. I know there is one child in particular that she is fond of. Pray seek out the boy, Forename, and see if you cannot glean something from him about Ourcen's activities.

Uncombed Urchin: Please help! Sister Ourcen went out all on her own and hasn't come back! Uncombed Urchin: She always reads to me right here, about Thal and the Order and the other side. I told her I lost my shiny thing and she went looking for it. But what if the monsters outside hurt her? Please find her!

Ourcen: You... You are the one from the church. Thank goodness you arrived when you did. It seems my gratitude is yours yet again. Ourcen: You spoke with the child? Yes, well, I was able to find his lost trinket. It is a ring given him by his mother before she passed. I will see it safely back to him.

Isembard: Sister Ourcen was attacked outside the Golden Bazaar? Gods forfend... I will secure a room at the inn for her should she require any rest. Isembard: Searching for the mementos of orphans? And risking her own well-being in the doing, no less? Certainly not the dastardly deeds Thancred would have us believe.

Amalj'aa Wrong Places Isembard seems to have a message for you from Thancred.

Isembard: I am well glad I reserved that inn room for Sister Ourcen. It seems she received greater injuries from her attackers than she initially let on. Thankfully, she is expected to make a full recovery. Isembard: But now, on to the matter at hand. Thancred came looking for you once more. He left word that he will be waiting at the Amalj'aa encampment to the southeast. I pray the two of you are able to uncover some evidence regarding these disappearances.

Thancred: Ah, there you are, Forename. So good of you to come! Thancred: Indeed, I've heard all about good Sister Ourcen. Isembard said her wounds were serious. It would seem my suspicions about the poor rose were misplaced. Thancred: But false though they were, perhaps my suspicions were not entirely without merit. Whilst following Sister Ourcen near the Golden Bazaar, a band of Amalj'aa caught my eye. Thancred: I tracked them as far as this encampment, but... Well, let us say that I would much prefer to keep my distance and remain here. This, of course, brings me to why I requested you, dear Forename. Would you be so kind as to take a look inside?

Thancred: Well? Did anything tickle your fancy?

Queer Leaflet A strange slip of parchment found at the Amalj'aa encampment in eastern Thanalan.

Thancred: This leaflet... “See the wealth of Nald to the hands of your children.” It looks to be some sort of assembly to provide the poor with work. Thancred: The lettering, though... Atrocious, is it not? And these bits about Nald'thal seem somewhat...less than studied. I find it hard to believe one among the Order penned this. Thancred: Pray take this to the inn at Camp Drybone. Let us see what Sister Ourcen makes of it.

Ourcen: My savior comes again. To what do I owe the honor this day? Ourcen: What is this? Blasphemous... These are not our teachings at all! This was not made by any true brother or sister of the Order─of that, I can assure you. Ourcen: Come to think of it, weeks ago, the church was plagued by missing garments. Could someone be posing as a priest of the Order to deceive the people?

Thancred: The plot thickens, Forename! Our culprit pretends to be a priest to lend credence to his deception. There is no doubt an irony in there somewhere. Thancred: But I suspect we have a worthy adversary on our hands. I shall consider how best to handle this. For now, tell Isembard what we have learned here.

Isembard: Posing as a priest!? To think... Isembard: These troubling notions aside, it is gratifying to finally be able to move this investigation forward. Thank you once again, Forename. I shall keep my ears and eyes open─now more than ever.

Dressed to Deceive Isembard wants to help you identify and apprehend the false priest.

Isembard: I'm afraid I have not seen any unusual activity. Nor have any at this camp given me cause to doubt them. But unless we can identify the culprit, and soon, more innocents will fall victim... Thancred: Do not despair just yet, my friend. An idea occurs to me. Thancred: Our suspect has been posing as a priest, using leaflets bearing false promises to lure the poor. Let Forename and me serve like with like by posing as impoverished souls in need of succor. Isembard: Ah, I dare to hope that this will yield us the answers we seek. It will be a dangerous undertaking, but you two are more than capable of looking after yourselves. Isembard: I'm next to useless in a battle, but I can supply the garments for the disguise. These old tunics and slops should serve your needs, so long as you don't mind the smell and the stains. Thancred: These will serve very well. You have my thanks. Thancred: Listen, Forename. So as to lay the foundation for our little ploy, we must make it widely known that more vagrants have arrived at camp and are desperate for coin. Thancred: To this end, I want you to don the old garments Isembard has lent us, and beg for work around the camp. Before long, the false priest should catch wind and approach us.

Swaenhylt: I preach the teachings of Azeyma, the Warden. Hast thou come to partake of the honey of Her wisdom? Swaenhylt: Azeyma is keeper of the sun and goddess of inquiry. All is laid bare beneath the light of Her divine countenance. Open thy heart to this light, needy child, and thou shalt want for naught till the end of days!

Knerl: Hm? And you are...? Knerl: Hmph, another refugee, by the looks of you. The Immortal Flames have neither work nor coin for your like. Begone, and see to it you don't make a nuisance of yourself.

Adelstan: <sigh> And I was about to get to the good part... Adelstan: Looking for work, you say? Sorry, but we don't have any openings. Now, get out of here so I can finish my story.

Ermegarde: Greetings, good madam. Is there aught I might assist you with? Ermegarde: ...Oh. I...don't believe there is. I'm afraid our wares are very expensive. Mayhap you should rejoin your fellows out at the pond north of Sandgate.

Aurildis: What is it? Aurildis: Gods, not again... Look, being poor doesn't give you the right to pester whomsoever you like. Why don't you keep with your own kind out by that muddy pond of yours at Drybone?

Thancred: You have quite a knack for being a nuisance, Forename. The camp is abuzz with talk of newly arrived vagrants. Thancred: And though we were unable to attract our wayward transgressor, we were able to learn that the poor have a commune by the pond north of Sandgate, to the east of here. The eyes of the authorities do not reach that place─rather ideal for spiriting away hapless souls. Thancred: Let us go there and wait for the kindly priest to come and offer us aid and comfort. Needless to say you'll need to remain in disguise.

Thancred: A fine day for catching false priests, wouldn't you say? Thancred: You look absolutely smashing, Forename─positively dressed for deception. All that's left, then, is to wait for our quarry to appear. ??? (Ungust): Oh, you poor, unfortunate souls. This is no way for men to live. No way at all. Thancred: Who are you? What do you want? ??? (Ungust): Be at ease, child, for I mean you no harm. I am a priest of the Order of Nald'thal, and I come to offer you succor. ??? (Ungust): This leaflet bears the teachings of Nald. Trust to them, and they will surely set you free from the shackles of penury! Thancred: Hmmm... A tempting offer, but I'm afraid I must decline... Thancred: ...On account of that atrocious performance. You would have made a gods-awful mummer, Ungust. Ungust: Wh-What!? How did you know─!? Y-You bastards tricked me! Ungust: P-Please don't hurt me! I was only doing it to protect my people! Thancred: Is that so? Do continue. Ungust: V-Very well... I'm a man of the Golden Bazaar. Raised there, if not born. Ungust: Some moons ago, the Amalj'aa raids began. They would appear sudden as a sandstorm, and plunder and pillage at will. Our defenders couldn't stand against them, few as they were. Everyone lived in fear. Ungust: I wanted to save my people, but being a merchant was all I knew. And so I did the only thing a merchant could─I approached the Amalj'aa in hopes of brokering a deal. Ungust: In return for sparing the Golden Bazaar, they made demands─outrageous ones. Thancred: Demands? Of what kind, pray tell? Ungust: First of all, they wanted the schedule for crystal shipments from the Nanawa Mines. For this, I bribed one of the workers to leak me the information. Ungust: Next, they wanted me to bring them people. So, I posed as a priest to lure in the vulnerable and give them over to the Amalj'aa. I...I didn't have a choice... Thancred: Protecting one's home is a noble thing...but at the cost of innocents? You could have sought the aid of the Immortal Flames, yet you did not. I suspect you are not telling me the full story. What made you sell out your own people? Speak! Ungust: The...<mumble>...was good... Thancred: What did you say? Ungust: The coin was good, I said! I could sell mole meat for a score of lifetimes and not see even a fraction of what the Amalj'aa pay me! Thancred: You sacrificed innocents so that you could line your own pockets? Words fail to express the contempt I feel for you. Ungust: Spare me your contempt! If you want to blame someone for the mess the world's in, then blame yourselves or the gods! Ungust: Uwaaah! Not you again! Thancred: Were you the one leaking the Immortal Flames' patrol routes to the enemy as well? Spit it out! Ungust: Nooo! I know nothing about that! I swear it! Thancred: At this stage, I'm rather disinclined to believe aught that leaves your mouth. But no matter. There'll be time enough to learn the truth. Ungust: <sob> Thancred: Forename. Be a dear and take word of these developments to Minfilia, would you? Thancred: I shall prise everything I can out of this filth. Thancred: The abductees are still somewhere out there. Our foremost priority is to rescue them.

Minfilia: Welcome back, Forename. I am pleased that you and Thancred have been getting along. Minfilia: I see... You have done well to uncover the truth. My thanks for the report. Minfilia: As Thancred said, we must ascertain where the abducted were taken...and none but the Amalj'aa know the answer. Minfilia: Suffice it to say they will not willingly part with this information. I fear blood will be spilled before all is said and done.

Life, Materia and Everything Minfilia would like you to meet a distinguished individual.

Minfilia: Though we seek a peaceful solution to the primal problem, we must needs be ready to fight for our cause. That you might take to the field suitably prepared, I would have you meet with a goblin acquaintance of mine. His name is Mutamix Bubblypots, and he is a scholar of no small repute. Minfilia: Mutamix is renowned for having introduced a revolutionary method of enhancing equipment to Eorzea. Minfilia: The knowledge of this method was once a closely guarded secret, but thanks to Mutamix and his students, it has now been disseminated to the great benefit of all the realm. Minfilia: It would serve you well to acquire an understanding of the process. For this purpose, I shall lend you a blade. Take it to Mutamix, and bid him use it to demonstrate his craft to you. Minfilia: Mutamix is ever to be found at his camp in central Thanalan─a place known as the Bonfire. Look for a pillar of smoke, and the way will become clear.

Mutamix Bubblypots: Pshhh... Shkohhh...? Who is uplander come to tent-ring of Mutamix Bubblypots?

Minfilia's Dagger This plain dagger has absolutely no defining characteristics except that the hilt does smell quite nice.

Swynbroes: Fighty-tool drinks in airyself. F'hobhas: When full of airyself, fighty-tool changes to stonyshine, name of materia. Kokosamu: If materia join with other fighty-tool... Mutamix Bubblypots: Then bigeyes! Fighty-tool gains power of airyself! Mutamix Bubblypots: Pshhh... Shkohhh... Mutamix is reckoning that uplander is friend of Minfilia. Mutamix Bubblypots: Yesss, tongueflaps reach ears of Mutamix with fastness. Mutamix Bubblypots: Minfilia wants uplander to see power of materia. Uplander brings fighty-tool to Mutamix, yes? Mutamix Bubblypots: Shkohhh! Fighty-tool is unstrong as eating-tool! Make good teachy-show of power of materia! Swynbroes: The materia, Master. Mutamix Bubblypots: Now eyes of uplander point at fighty-tool, yes? Pshhh... Shkohhh... Materia join with fighty-tool... Mutamix Bubblypots: Fighty-tool gains power of materia! Fighty-tool reborn! Here, uplander take fighty-tool to Minfilia! Swynbroes: Materia, strictly speaking, is a kind of crystal. It is created by drawing out the aetheric constituents from a piece of equipment and then crystallizing them. F'hobhas: Not just any old equipment will serve, mind you. It must have sufficient spiritbond─that being a measure of how fully an item has been imbued with its owner's spirit. Kokosamu: When ye attach a piece o' materia to gear, ye imbue the host item with its power. That's how Master Mutamix turned that dagger o' yours from summat as would've struggled to cut steak into a weapon worth wieldin'. Mutamix Bubblypots: Pshhh... Shkohhh... Uplander wishes to be joiner of materia? Mutamix Bubblypots: Then uplander best fill braincase with knowings of crafty-making. Mutamix Bubblypots: With knowings of crafty-making, uplander can become joiner of materia. Mutamix Bubblypots: If uplander wants braincase to rattle with knowings of materia, uplander best trade tongueflaps with learny-ones of Mutamix.

Minfilia: Welcome back, Forename. I trust your visit to the Bonfire proved fruitful.

Materia-enhanced Dagger A once ordinary dagger, now made special with the wonders of materia.

Minfilia: Ahhh...what a remarkable difference a single piece of materia can make! Granted, the skills needed to manipulate the substance are not easily acquired, but one need only look upon the results to realize such efforts are worthwhile. Minfilia: As I am sure you are aware, the quality of one's equipment can be the difference between victory and defeat. Materia may well give you the edge you need, Forename, so make it your ally. Minfilia: Now, it is time we discussed the matter of your next mission. Pray speak with me when you are ready to begin.

Lord of the Inferno Minfilia would like you to assist the Immortal Flames.

Minfilia: Word has arrived from Thancred concerning our ongoing investigation. Minfilia: It appears he was able to extract some information from our friend Ungust, the false priest. Minfilia: He revealed that he is due to meet with the Amalj'aa to discuss their dealings. Minfilia: The Immortal Flames believe that the meeting will present an ideal opportunity to ambush and capture the Amalj'aa responsible for the abductions, and so they mean to have Ungust attend as planned. Minfilia: As the Amalj'aa are anticipated to offer fierce resistance, the Immortal Flames have requested our support. Minfilia: I would have you provide it to them, Forename. Thancred is presently attending to another matter, but will join you as soon as he is able. Until such time as he does, you will be the Scions' sole representative on the ground. Minfilia: Before he left, he bade me tell you to “save some for him.” Such is his confidence in you─a confidence I share. Minfilia: When you have made ready, pray take yourself to Camp Drybone and report to the flame sergeant leading the mission. May you walk in the light of the Crystal.

Flame Sergeant: Ah, you're Forename Surname of the Scions? My thanks for coming, friend. We're stronger for your assistance. Flame Sergeant: Allow me to brief you on our mission. Our objective is to capture Amalj'aa and prise from them the whereabouts of the abductees. Flame Sergeant: The lizardmen aren't aware that their man, Ungust, has been exposed. When they come to the rendezvous point to meet the traitor, we'll spring the trap. Flame Sergeant: Owing to the clandestine nature of the mission, we can deploy only a small contingent. Every member must count, and so we requested the aid of the Scions. Flame Sergeant: The rendezvous will take place at the Invisible City. Please make your way there and lie in wait. Flame Sergeant: We stand to learn much and more of the Amalj'aa plot if the mission succeeds, Forename. Let's make sure it does.

Flame Sergeant: Is the bait in place? Flame Private: Our man is in position, sir. Flame Sergeant: Good. We make our move as soon as the Amalj'aa appear. Flame Private: Yes, sir! Ungust: Uwaaah! Amalj'aa Warrior: What is the meaning of this!? Flame Private: Wait. Something's amiss... Ungust: Hee hee hee... Traitorous Flame Soldier: Ahahahahaha! Traitorous Flame Soldier: I'm afraid your little ambush ends here! Ungust: I eluded the Immortal Flames' clutches for moons before finally being caught. Did you not wonder how I managed it? Traitorous Flame Soldier: 'Twas almost as if someone was feedin' him information from the inside! Gahahaha! Ungust: Aye, your every movement was known to me ahead of time! Hee hee hee! Ungust: Now, as much as I'd love to chat awhile, I have appointments to keep. Traitorous Flame Soldier: They're all yours!

Ungust: Hee hee! Our Amalj'aa friends will keep you company! Flame Sergeant: Filthy traitors! When I get my hands on you... Ungust: Hee hee! How long will you last, I wonder!? Flame Sergeant: Another wave! Stay sharp, men! Flame Sergeant: Godsdammit, is there no end to them!? Ungust: Hee hee! The show is only just beginning!

Traitorous Flame Soldier: Put up your weapon, or your comrade's a dead man! Flame Private: Behind you! Ungust: Bring her. Traitorous Flame Soldier: The rest of you, march! Flame Sergeant: Traitorous scum...

Flame Sergeant: I fear the Amalj'aa mean to give us to their god as an offering. If I must die, then let me die a soldier's death─with steel in hand!

The Bowl of Embers

Owing to a betrayal you have been captured by the Amalj'aa and taken to their stronghold of Zanr'ak, there to be given as an offering to the primal Ifrit. If you are to survive this fiery encounter with the Lord of the Inferno, you and your comrades must fight with no less than every onze of your strength. Should you fall, your souls shall burn for eternity...

Amalj'aa Zealots: Lord of the Inferno, hearken to our plea! Lord of the Inferno, deliver us from our misery! Temugg Zoh: O mighty Ifrit, Lord of the Inferno! Temugg Zoh: Your humble servants beseech You! Grace us with Your divine presence! Temugg Zoh: O mighty Ifrit! We bring before You ignorant savages who know not Your godhead! Temugg Zoh: If it please You, Lord, scorch their heathen souls with Your cleansing flame, and mark them as Your own! Flame Sergeant: B-Bloody hells... Amalj'aa Warrior: Bring those two as well! Ungust: Unnngh... Traitorous Flame Soldier: Wh-What's going on!? Th-This ain't what we agreed! Amalj'aa Warrior: None but servants of Lord Ifrit may behold the rite of summoning. The souls of unbelievers are forfeit! Ungust: Nooo! Spare me, I beg you! Ifrit: Pitiful children of man! By my breath I claim you! Ifrit: Arise once more as my loyal minions! Feed my flames with your faith, and all who stand against us shall burn! Flame Sergeant: O mighty Ifrit... Flame Private: My one true god... Traitorous Flame Soldier: Your words are my bread... Temugg Zoh: Impossible! By what sorcery do you resist my master's will!? Temugg Zoh: Could it be...? Temugg Zoh: Your soul already belongs to another!? Yes, that is the only explanation! Ifrit: Forsooth, thy frail mortal frame can serve as vessel to the blessing of but One. Ifrit: Yet I smell not the taint of another upon thee... Ifrit: The truth of thine allegiance waxeth clear─thou art of the godless blessed's number. Ifrit: The Paragons warned of thine abhorrent kind. Thine existence is not to be suffered.

Ifrit: My flames shall consume thy flesh and soul both! Scion Thaumaturge: Such sweltering heat... Ifrit: Succumb to the Inferno! Ifrit: Surrender thyself to the fires of judgment! Scion Conjurer: I sense a terrible power in that nail. Ifrit: Thy soul shall burn for eternity! Ifrit: Thou art strong, mortal! Ifrit: The blessing of Light...defies me!?

Thancred: Pray forgive my lateness! Thancred: I was delayed by a congregation of Amalj'aa zealots. I swear, each seemed more evangelical than the last. Thancred: Hmph! Persistent lot! Thancred: Phew... Thancred: I see the Bloodsworn wasted no time extracting the captives. No less than I'd expect from the Flame General's handpicked men. Thancred: As for those two...it is fair to say their hardships have only just begun. They have much to answer for. Thancred: I feel I owe you an apology, Forename. Had I known this mission would prove so dangerous, I would never have left you to face it alone. You have been given a veritable baptism of fire. Thancred: But let us continue this conversation in more agreeable surrounds. Camp Drybone, shall we say? Flame Soldier: This way, sir! Nero tol Scaeva: So that was the mighty Ifrit... Nero tol Scaeva: And what a disappointment he was. The readings are nowhere near what I had anticipated, even taking Ul'dahn interference into account. ??? (Livia sas Junius): You should know better than to rely upon five-year-old data left by the VIIth Legion. ??? (Livia sas Junius): Nor can we expect any form of support from the motherland, given the troubles at court. We have only ourselves to rely upon. Nero tol Scaeva: Ever the pessimist, my dear Livia. Promise me you'll never change. Livia sas Junius: We've wasted enough time here. That meter of yours is too old to give any reading worth a damn. Nero tol Scaeva: Not that there was aught worth a damn for it to read...but I take your point. I suppose we must content ourselves with the knowledge that we've achieved our primary objective. Nero tol Scaeva: Yet I find that I am troubled by that adventurer's unexpected show of strength. Could such a foe prove a hindrance to our plans? Livia sas Junius: Perhaps─but that is a consideration for another time. Livia sas Junius: You have been given a task. That is your priority. I suggest you treat it as such. Livia sas Junius: Fail to do as my lord commands... Livia sas Junius: ...And I will spare him the trouble of punishing you. Nero tol Scaeva: With allies like that... Nero tol Scaeva: Beware a woman in love. I shall need to be on my best behavior.

Thancred: Ah, there you are, Forename. Come, rest awhile─you will have no better opportunity. After witnessing their god's ignominious defeat, the Amalj'aa will be less inclined to risk our wrath─for a time, at least. Thancred: Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was in the process of apologizing. I do hope you can forgive me. I arrived too late to be of any use...to you or the abductees. Thancred: They may be whole of body, but the same cannot be said of their minds. For once a man is tempered... Thancred: Ah, but it ill suits me to dwell on the negatives. Amidst all our misfortunes, there is still reason to rejoice. Ifrit is slain, and by your hand, no less! Thancred: That is the deed of no ordinary individual, Forename. Not that I ever thought you were ordinary. On the contrary, I have long suspected that you have the potential to shape the fate of this realm. What can I say? My fine eye for talent remains undimmed. Thancred: Minfilia will be proud beyond all reckoning when she hears of your deeds. I trust you shan't object to my bearing the tidings to her. That way I can claim to have contributed something to this mission. Thancred: You, meanwhile, have earned yourself a rest. Take some time to relax, and return to the Waking Sands when you are good and ready. We can discuss matters in more detail then. Just don't take too long, will you? The realm's problems won't solve themselves.

Scion of the Seventh Dawn: Ah, the triumphant hero returns! Scion of the Seventh Dawn: Thancred told us the news upon his arrival. He is presently in the solar, giving a full report to Lady Minfilia. Scion of the Seventh Dawn: You should join them at once. Lady Minfilia is most eager to see you.

Thancred: ...My late arrival nearly cost Forename her life. I wasn't there when the Amalj'aa took her prisoner... Thancred: And I wasn't there when they served her to Ifrit... Thancred: Yes, by some miracle, she survived─but that does not excuse the fact that she should never have had to face such dangers alone. I failed her utterly. Thancred: Just as I'm failing you all... Minfilia: What's done is done, Thancred. You can ill blame yourself for every─ Minfilia: Forename! It is so good to see you again! Thancred: Impeccable timing, my friend. I had just finished regaling Minfilia with your heroic exploits. Minfilia: Thancred has told me everything. You have done well to return to us. Thancred: The perils you faced were undeniably great, yet a part of me believes that I had no cause to fear. And now we can put paid to our long investigation. Thancred: As we suspected, the Amalj'aa undertook both the robbery and the abductions with the aim of summoning their primal, Ifrit. Minfilia: Nor is this tale limited to Ul'dah. Similar incidents have been rife in both Limsa Lominsa and Gridania of late. Thancred: I daresay you've been curious as to how these crimes are linked to the primals. Permit me to explain. Thancred: Having manifested in the physical realm, primals must consume aether if they are to maintain their presence here. And the stronger they become, the more aether they require. Thancred: Now, aether exists throughout creation. It flows through all life, and permeates the very air that we breathe. Thancred: Alas, this alone will not suffice to sustain the likes of Ifrit. Nay, he and his kind require a more concentrated source of aether─crystals. Minfilia: It is for this reason that incidents involving crystals can often be traced back to a primal. Thancred: Which leaves us with the why of the abductions. To understand this, you must first understand how primals are born. Thancred: When all is well with the world, primals possess no physical form. Their essence is dispersed across the great river of aether. Minfilia: However, when the world is plunged into chaos, those who worship the primals cry out to their gods for deliverance from suffering. Minfilia: These cries serve as a beacon toward which a primal's essence is irresistibly drawn. It is this coming together─or “aetheric coalescence”─which grants the beings physical form. Minfilia: Once born, a primal gains strength from its followers' worship. The more numerous and fervent they are, the more powerful their god becomes. Thancred: But the primals are seldom satisfied with such reverence as their adherents freely give, and in order to gain more power, they do not scruple to create followers. They do this by “tempering” mortals─a process to which you yourself were subjected. Minfilia: Yet even as Ifrit took your comrades in his thrall, you alone remained unaffected. This is thanks to the power you possess─the Echo. Minfilia: We know not the why of it, but those blessed with the Echo are immune to primal influence. Minfilia: It is as though a greater power protects us... Minfilia: When first you came to us, I told you that the Echo would be instrumental in dealing with the primal threat. I trust you now begin to see why. Thancred: The recent incidents all share a common trait: meticulous planning. Such elaborate designs are a new development, and one which fills me with an unshakable sense of foreboding. Minfilia: While I share your concern, my presiding feeling is one of relief at your safe return. Minfilia: Ah, the Immortal Flames assured me that they will deal with the aftermath, so you need not concern yourself with that. We may rest easy for a time. Minfilia: I suggest you take full advantage of the respite, Forename. Minfilia: You may be sure it won't last long. Once the people learn the identity of the hero who felled Ifrit, I fear you will have nary a moment to yourself! Thancred: Whether she intended to or no, Minfilia neglected to tell you something─something I think it would be best you heard from one of us. Thancred: It concerns the tempered abductees that were rescued... I am sorry to report that all are to be put to death, the Flames with whom you were imprisoned included. Needless to say, this information must not be made known to the public. Thancred: I swear to you that we would not do this if there were any other recourse─but once a man is tempered, he is tempered for life. His very existence lends strength to the primal whom he cannot choose but worship. Thancred: And so we Scions continue our fight, that no more innocents need be sacrificed. I hope that you will continue to stand with us, Forename. Thancred: But I should be going. I must offer my apologies to the Flame General for the losses his people suffered. Till next time! Thancred: Gods forgive me... How many more lives...? Louisoix would never have allowed this to happen. Thancred: I have to do better... I have to be stronger...

A Hero in the Making Minfilia is wearing a wry smile. Might it have something to do with your newfound fame?

Minfilia: Until not so very long ago, you were but one of the many adventurers seeking to make their way in Eorzea. Minfilia: But for your character and courage, you were raised to the esteemed post of envoy. Thereafter, you traveled the realm, aiding those in need without thought of reward, confirming to Yda and Papalymo that the Scions would benefit from your aid. And no sooner had you joined us than you personally bested the primal Ifrit. Minfilia: You have achieved a great deal in a short time, and won fame in so doing. Alas, fame does not come without a price, as you will soon discover. Minfilia: We have guests, Forename─or rather...you have guests. ??? (Flame Officer): Beg pardons! Flame Officer: Ahhh, Lady Minfilia. Radiant as always! Serpent Officer: I am given to understand that the Scions of the Seventh Dawn have but recently welcomed a new hero into their midst! Storm Officer: I am here on behalf of the Maelstrom, Grand Company of Limsa Lominsa, to offer said hero a place of honor within our ranks! Minfilia: As you can see, Forename, your recent exploits have garnered you the attentions of the Grand Companies of Eorzea. Minfilia: Each organization would have Ifrit's bane for its own. To this end, all three have sent officers to court you. Minfilia: They would not ordinarily go to such lengths to enlist a new recruit. That they have is evidence of their high regard for you. Minfilia: I find myself wondering how word of Forename's deeds spread so quickly. That the Immortal Flames should know of her triumph is to be expected...but what of the other Grand Companies? Tataru: Eep! Serpent Officer: Your reputation precedes you, Mistress Surname! 'Tis no ordinary woman who can face a primal and emerge the victor! Serpent Officer: And imagine our pride when we learned that you began your journey as an adventurer in our own Gridania! Know that the people hold you in high esteem, and that you will always be welcome among us. Serpent Officer: The Order of the Twin Adder has need of valiant women such as you. Join your strength to ours, friend, and together let us ensure that peace ever reigns over the Twelveswood! Flame Officer: What a pleasure it is to finally meet you, Mistress Surname! My comrades speak of you in the most glowing terms! Flame Officer: A woman of your talent belongs with the Immortal Flames. Join your strength to ours, friend, and together let us secure a prosperous future for Ul'dah! Storm Officer: The Admiral was not exaggerating when she said you have the look of a hero! Full often does she speak of you, friend. Storm Officer: It is only natural that we should want you for the Maelstrom. Join your strength to ours, and together let us see the grand vessel of Limsa Lominsa to the shores of glory! Grand Company Officers: Lady Minfilia! Minfilia: <sigh> Very well... Minfilia: Though I am quite sure you need no reminding, mayhap a brief summary of the situation would help to clarify your thoughts on this matter. As you know, the Grand Companies are all-encompassing organizations empowered to call upon the martial, economic, and technological resources of their respective city-states in times of strife. Minfilia: There are presently three such organizations in Eorzea: the Maelstrom of Limsa Lominsa, the Order of the Twin Adder of Gridania, and the Immortal Flames of Ul'dah. Minfilia: Serving a Grand Company means serving the nation to which it belongs. You will be charged with its defense, and tasked with advancing its cause. Minfilia: In return for your faithful service, you will be furnished with various rewards, some of which may well prove useful to you in your other endeavors. Minfilia: If you are agonizing over which of the Grand Companies best deserves your loyalty, be at ease─the commitment you make this day need not be permanent. Should you wish to shift your allegiance at a later date, you are entitled to do so. And yet...I concede that it is no small choice you face... Minfilia: Ah! A thought occurs to me! You will, of course, recall that the three city-states are planning to hold remembrance services. Minfilia: Well, as part of the proceedings, I am given to understand that the leader of each Grand Company will deliver an address. Minfilia: Hearing these addresses ought to help you make an informed decision. What say you, my dear officers? Serpent Officer: A fine suggestion! Flame Officer: You are as wise as you are beautiful, my lady! Storm Officer: Very well! Let Forename hear our leaders speak, then return here with her decision. Grand Company Officers: We eagerly await your answer! Minfilia: I know full well that adventurers are by their nature a liberty-loving breed, and not best suited to the discipline of military service, but I strongly urge you to join a Grand Company nonetheless. While the promise of reward is enticing in itself, it is not the only benefit. Minfilia: You are possessed of great power, Forename, and with it you are capable of doing untold good. Yet know that great power is wont to attract attention─not all of it friendly. Minfilia: There will be those who wish you ill, and you must needs be on the lookout for them. Yet however vigilant you are, you are but one woman. In the midst of a Grand Company, however, you will be one woman amongst many─a friend amongst friends. Your achievements will be shared, and so will the danger. I can think of no better arrangement. Minfilia: Of course, joining one organization need not mean leaving another. I hope that we can continue to rely upon your aid─the Twelve know that we will have need of it in the days ahead. Minfilia: The Grand Companies seek to protect their own nations. We Scions, on the other hand, seek to preserve the future of Eorzea as a whole. Similar, yet not quite the same. Minfilia: Now then, I expect that you will be afield more often in the future. Minfilia: As such, I would have you carry this linkpearl with you at all times. It will allow us to stay in touch regardless of location. Minfilia: Eorzea is changing, Forename, and you have the power to help shape it anew. Minfilia: None can say what the morrow will bring, but so long as we believe in ourselves, there is naught we cannot achieve. Minfilia: Now, it is time you made ready for your journey. Before you depart, be sure to speak to Tataru. She will apprise you as to where and when the remembrance services are due to take place.

Tataru: I, um... I'm sorry about all the attention you're getting, Forename... I might have sung your praises a little too loudly...and often...to a few too many people. Ahem. Next time, I'll be sure to hold my tongue─literally, if necessary. Tataru: Anyway, I expect you want to know where and when the remembrance services are taking place? Tataru: If all goes to plan, Gridania's Grand Company, the Order of the Twin Adder, will hold the first of the three services, and Elder Seedseer Kan-E-Senna will deliver her address at Mih Khetto's Amphitheatre. Tataru: I should probably mention at this point that due to the organizational challenges involved in assembling all of the involved parties, it's possible that the order of the services might change... Still, there's not much we can do about that, so make Gridania your first port of call. Tataru: Next, you'll need to go to Ul'dah, where Flame General Raubahn Aldynn will be addressing the masses at the Royal Promenade. Oh, and it's rumored there's to be a special guest! How exciting. Tataru: Last but not least, you must make your way to the Stateroom in Limsa Lominsa, where Maelstrom Chief Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn will be giving her address. Tataru: The room is accessible via the Admiral's Lift. Identify yourself to the sentry, Zanthael, and he will admit you. Got all that? Tataru: Well, off you go, then. I hope you find the remembrance services suitably educational! I suggest visiting the city-states in my prescribed order, though with your record of impeccable timing and luck, the schedule may well change in favor of your preferred travel plans. Farewell!

???: I lost my son to the Calamity. ???: The three Seedseers are all together! ???: Some say you couldn't take a step without stumbling over a body. Kan-E-Senna: Our forebears were once strangers in the Twelveswood. Kan-E-Senna: Fearful of the greenwrath, they hid themselves in the dark recesses of the earth. Yet they dreamed of basking in the dappled sunlight of the forest. Kan-E-Senna: Through great effort, they proved their worth to the elementals, and were granted a place beneath the boughs. So it was that Gridania was born, some five centuries ago. Kan-E-Senna: Working hand in hand, the Hyur and the Elezen settlers sowed the seeds of our civilization. And soon they were joined by folk of all races. Kan-E-Senna: So nourished by the waters of unity and blessed by the light of the Matron, Gridania flourished into the great nation it is today. Self-assured Youth (Alphinaud): Do you see the Gridanian standard? There, hanging behind the Elder Seedseer. Self-assured Youth (Alphinaud): The entwined serpents represent the unity between Hyur and Elezen. An elegant symbol, do you not agree? Kan-E-Senna: In accordance with the will of the elementals, we have embraced a life of peace. Alas, our neighbors have not always sought the same for themselves─nor for us. Kan-E-Senna: Though we Gridanians have no love for war, we have still less for those who would threaten our way of life. Ever have we fought to protect the sanctity of the Twelveswood. Kan-E-Senna: When the Garlean Empire brought its war of conquest to Eorzea, we rallied under the noble standard of the Twin Adder, that we might push back the encroaching darkness. Kan-E-Senna: And it was we who prepared the ground for the reformation of the Eorzean Alliance, that all the peoples of this realm might stand united against the common threat. Kan-E-Senna: Five years ago, the Alliance met the armies of the Empire upon the fields of Carteneau. Kan-E-Senna: It would prove the bloodiest battle in recent memory. Countless Gridanian lives were lost. Kan-E-Senna: As supreme commander of the Order of the Twin Adder, ever shall I bear the weight of our people's sacrifice. Kan-E-Senna: Alas, their loss was not the only tragedy to befall us that day, for soon came the Calamity. Kan-E-Senna: The scars borne by our forest are a constant reminder of its violence. Our lives have been irrevocably changed, each waking hour a struggle to survive. Kan-E-Senna: Driven to desperation, some among us have strayed from the path of righteousness, resorting to banditry, poaching, and other unconscionable deeds. Kan-E-Senna: To compound our woes, the Ixal have returned in force, emboldened by our suffering. They test our defenses nigh without cease, and prey upon the vulnerable. Kan-E-Senna: So beleaguered from within and without, it is of little wonder that our unity now falters. Dark times are upon us. ???: Time was, a man could walk the highroads without fear. ???: A pox on the bloody Ixal! Kan-E-Senna: On this day, five years ago, countless Eorzeans laid down their lives that we might behold another dawn. Please join with me in honoring their memory. Cynical Girl (Alisaie): And how do you propose to honor the memory of those you cannot remember, pray tell? Kan-E-Senna: The destruction wrought by the Calamity was indiscriminate─it dealt death to Eorzean and Garlean alike. Kan-E-Senna: Yet while we have labored to rebuild our homes─to rebuild our lives─the Empire has set about raising steel fortresses here in the Twelveswood. Kan-E-Senna: Let none be mistaken─the Garleans remain the greatest threat to our survival. If we are to stand against them, we must remember what it is to be united. Kan-E-Senna: Our many troubles blind us to the woes of our fellow man. Thence is harmony lost. Yet harmony is the founding principle of Gridania. Kan-E-Senna: We are gathered here to honor the fallen. Kan-E-Senna: Let them be honored not only in word and thought, but through concerted action! Kan-E-Senna: I bid you join hands with me once more beneath the Twin Adder standard! Kan-E-Senna: And together, let us heal the forest's wounds, that our progeny might live in harmony beneath these ancient boughs. For serenity, purity, and sanctity! ???: We must think of the children! ???: Wood's will be done! ???: It's up to us to protect the forest. ???: For the elementals! Alphinaud: If you'll permit me. Alphinaud. Alphinaud: ...And my sister, Alisaie, at your service. Alphinaud: I saw at a glance that you were a fellow traveler. Alphinaud: You might call us students of history, sampling the realm's remembrances in pursuit of...enlightenment. Alphinaud: The Gridanians are unfortunate enough to have to contend with two beast tribes. Alphinaud: The Ixal are unquestionably the more troublesome, being of a naturally warlike disposition, and wont to summon their bloodthirsty primal, Garuda. Alphinaud: The sylphs, by contrast, are peaceful in nature, being mischievous rather than malevolent, and have long been on friendly terms with the Gridanians─until recently, at least. Alas, they have grown aloof, a change observed at roughly the time they summoned the primal Ramuh. Alphinaud: The Gridanians have no love for war, and they consider open conflict a last resort. Alphinaud: Though they clash with the Ixal ever more regularly, you may be assured that they do so in self-defense. As for the sylphs...they are as yet bound by a peace treaty, though one wonders how long it will be before it is broken. Alphinaud: The Twelveswood was grievously wounded during the Calamity, leaving Gridania vulnerable to attack. The people are hopeful that restoring the wood─and thereby the power of the elementals─will put an end to their woes. Yet how long will that take? Centuries, I'd wager. Alphinaud: Meanwhile, the Ixal will continue their incursions, spurred on by Garuda and her insatiable appetite for destruction. Alphinaud: Whether the Gridanians like it or not, sooner or later it will come to all-out war. And when it does, the Order of the Twin Adder will need all the help it can muster. Alphinaud: ...How valuable might the aid of a capable adventurer prove to them then? Alphinaud: Well, perhaps we will find out─if the Elder Seedseer's words fell on fertile ground...

???: Behold, 'tis the sultana, Nanamo, herself! ???: And Raubahn as well! Raubahn: Hark you, souls of flame, drawn to the bosom of the desert, where the fire burns brightest and shall rage forevermore! ???: Hurrah! ???: Raubahn! Raubahn: Where since antiquity, under the sage and judicious rule of the Ul Dynasty, we have wrought sand into gold! Raubahn: Where by the Grace and Glory of Nald'thal have our brave sons and daughters flourished and prospered─I speak of Ul'dah! Alphinaud: There, at the Flame General's back flies the Grand Company's standard. Alphinaud: Note the sigil. The golden scales of order balance the jewel of prosperity with the flame of might. Raubahn: Great and many are the gifts our nation has given the realm. Raubahn: In Eorzea's darkest hour, on the killing fields of Carteneau, none spent more in blood and gold than we. Raubahn: Thus was the VIIth Imperial Legion laid low! Alphinaud: So that's how it happened! How soon history forgets. Raubahn: Yet many left our gates, never to return. Raubahn: Let us pray for our absent brothers and sisters, that they might know happiness in the great beyond, as Thal's honored guests. Raubahn: If the fates were fair, the price we paid that day would have bought us victory. Alas, they are not. Raubahn: And now, but five years into this Seventh Umbral Era, the spirit of sacrifice which granted us our strength is all but dead. Raubahn: Look around you. What do you see? A people divided, downtrodden and enthralled! Raubahn: Where are the merciful alms of the rich? Where is the just steel of the righteous? Raubahn: I ask you: is this the great nation our brothers and sisters gave their lives to save? Raubahn: You who call this “living” dishonor the name of the Immortal Flames─it is but a slow death! Raubahn: Our enemies surround us. The savage hordes of the Amalj'aa wait beside our roads, strangling the lifelines of trade. Raubahn: Meanwhile, the Garleans make mock of our borders, and despoil our land of its natural wealth. Raubahn: We stand on a precipice...yet we do not act. Raubahn: Whether trader or soldier, Monetarist or Royalist, all must recognize that a divided Ul'dah stands to fall. Raubahn: Victory and Fortune walk hand in hand! Raubahn: Ye who seek glory and wealth! Look not to what little you can snatch from your neighbor, but to the boundless wealth of the world beyond! Raubahn: Now is the time to unite! Now is the time to ride forth! Raubahn: In the name of the sultana, I beseech you! Raubahn: Line not your own coffers, but those of the Immortal Flames! Seek not to prosper from Ul'dah, but to restore her to prosperity! Raubahn: As the realm prospers, so shall Ul'dah. As Ul'dah prospers, so shall her people! ???: Yeah, for Ul'dah! ???: Together we are one! Raubahn: Your Grace. Nanamo Ul Namo: Raubahn. Nanamo Ul Namo: People of Ul'dah! I, Nanamo, seventeenth in the line of Ul, address you. Nanamo Ul Namo: Much has been made of the wealth of Ul'dah. Nanamo Ul Namo: Yet those who measure that wealth in coins and carats are gravely deceived. Nanamo Ul Namo: For the true wealth of Ul'dah lies in the health, happiness, and hopes of her people. Nanamo Ul Namo: Beloved subjects, I bid you raise aloft the torch of Ul'dah, that her Flames might serve as a beacon for all Eorzea to see! ???: Long live Nanamo! ???: Glory to the sultana! Raubahn: For Victory and Fortune, stride fearless into the inferno, for we are by fire reborn! ???: Forsooth! ???: The time is now! ???: I believe! ???: I believe! Alphinaud: Fancy meeting you again. Alphinaud: The Ul'dahns have a long history of conflict with the Amalj'aa, the beast tribe that worships the primal Ifrit. Alphinaud: Judging by your look of distaste, I take it you have encountered them. Alphinaud: The Ul'dahns do not shy from confrontation. If aught threatens their precious prosperity, they will seek to crush it. Alphinaud: So have they dealt with Ifrit thus far, smothering his flames each time he is stoked to life. Alphinaud: Yet he is but one of several problems. Though they have been quiet these past five years, the Garleans have not gone away. Alphinaud: Meanwhile, refugees continue to arrive in droves, and Ul'dah has no clear policy on how to deal with them. Alphinaud: After all, not even the sultanate's coffers are bottomless. And even assuming they had the coin, resources will ever be finite. Alphinaud: Which brings me back to the subject of Ifrit. It has been observed that the Amalj'aa are summoning him with ever-increasing frequency. Alphinaud: Every time they do so, the Ul'dahns send their forces to smite the primal, and though they invariably succeed, each victory is bought with blood. It is a war of attrition which they cannot well sustain. Alphinaud: Small wonder, then, that the Immortal Flames are eager to recruit more members. Alphinaud: At such a desperate hour, an adventurer of your experience would be a most welcome addition to their ranks.

Zanthael: Here to attend the remembrance service? Be quick─the Admiral is due to give her address at any moment.

Proceed to the Stateroom?
Yes
No Zanthael: If you're not interested in attending, make way for those who are.

???: The Garleans are another matter altogether. ???: So much for our alliance. ???: It's sunk beyond the seabed. Merlwyb: Brothers and sisters of the sea, hearken unto me! Look upon this, our mighty crimson standard, and tell me your hearts do not swell with pride! Merlwyb: Seven hundred summers have come and gone since our forefathers first ran aground in this fertile bay. Merlwyb: In that time, guided by the Mother of Oceans, Limsa Lominsa has grown from humble fishing village to uncontested ruler of the five seas and beyond! Alphinaud: Did you look, as the Admiral bid you? It is a rather stirring standard, I must say. Alphinaud: The crimson field is meant to signify the blood of fallen crewmates, while the black longship represents a pirate vessel. Merlwyb: When the Garlean Empire marched upon Eorzea, we assembled beneath the Maelstrom's standard, and our Grand Company was reborn. Merlwyb: All answered the call, from the Knights of the Barracuda to Hyllfyr's Bloody Executioners, and together we met our would-be conquerors upon the field of Carteneau. Merlwyb: That day, the world bore witness to the united strength of Limsa Lominsa! Merlwyb: I swear to you─no army ever fought harder, or with more courage. Yet many of ours did not survive. Merlwyb: Join me now in remembering those who fought in the name of freedom, and fell. May their souls be returned to the sea. Alphinaud: Freedom... Yes, they have always been rather fond of their freedom. Alphinaud: Much as the beast tribes have. Small wonder─beneath the surface, one would struggle to tell them apart. Merlwyb: It has been five long years since the Calamity struck. Five long years of tireless rebuilding. Merlwyb: Yet still the wounds of the Calamity fester and weep. Merlwyb: But when I stand atop the Mizzenmast, and gaze out upon our battered and broken vessel, I see an undying spirit. Did we not build all this from the wreck of the Galadion all those centuries ago? Shall we not do so again!? Merlwyb: Yet there are those who would see this ship of ours sink beneath the waves of the restless Rhotano. Merlwyb: The Sahagin creep ashore seeking blood for their accursed god. ???: Those fishback bastards. ???: The Sahagin have risen? Merlwyb: While the mines of O'Ghomoro spew forth kobolds who push ever south, despoiling our lands as they go. Merlwyb: These savage beast tribes will be the first waves to crash against our creaking hull. Merlwyb: And behind them swells the grim tide of the Garlean Empire. Merlwyb: Even now, the curs fly their flags within our borders. Doubt not but that they will be upon us ere long. Merlwyb: We are well-nigh surrounded. Yet there are those among us who would rather turn their swords against their crewmates than our cannons against our foes. Merlwyb: How can we hope to repel our many enemies when mutiny breeds below deck? Merlwyb: There is but one course left to us! Merlwyb: One bearing that will bring us victory over the beast hordes and the Empire both, and see this ship safe to port. Merlwyb: We must mend the rift the Calamity has reopened 'twixt pirate and Maelstrom, and stand fast with our adventurer brothers against the coming tempest! Merlwyb: Mark ye well: a crew without unity is no crew at all─'tis but a mass of drowned men. Merlwyb: To me, then, brothers and sisters of the sea! Gather beneath the undying crimson standard and pledge me your strength, your skill, your wisdom! Merlwyb: And with the guidance of the Navigator, this great vessel of ours shall ride the waves till sea swallows all! ???: Love live the admiral! ???: Admiral Merlwyb! ???: Gather the lads! ???: Haha, where's me cutlass? ???: I'll follow ye to the seven hells, Admiral! Alphinaud: Fancy meeting you again. Alphinaud: As the Admiral mentioned in her address, Limsa Lominsa is plagued by two beast tribes. Alphinaud: The first are the fishlike Sahagin, worshipers of the primal Leviathan. Alphinaud: The second are the kobolds, who dwell beneath the earth, and take the primal Titan for their god. Alphinaud: As if the beast tribes' presence weren't troublesome enough, the Garleans have also chosen to erect a fortress right in the Lominsans' backyard. Alphinaud: And that is to say naught of internal strife. As a nation of pirates, there is no end to the blood feuds between the various factions. And while they fight amongst themselves, the Garleans whet their blades and watch. Alphinaud: If the Lominsans are to have any hope of withstanding the Empire, they must first resolve their own affairs. Differences must be set aside, and the primal threat dealt with once and for all. Alphinaud: To this end, I expect that they will soon take decisive action against the beast tribes. Mark my words, the Maelstrom standard will be drenched a deeper shade of crimson ere long. Alphinaud: That a capable adventurer like you would be a valuable addition to their crew is beyond question.

Minfilia: Forename, this is Minfilia. You are well, I hope? Would I be correct in thinking that the final remembrance service has now concluded? Minfilia: A moment ago, you say? What a coincidence! Minfilia: Jesting aside, I trust you remember our guests from the Grand Companies? Well, delighted though we are to have them here at the Waking Sands, it would not do to keep them in suspense any longer than necessary. In short: hurry back!

Minfilia: Welcome back, Forename. Were the Grand Company leaders' words as illuminating as you had hoped? Minfilia: Aye, each nation is beset with problems. I trust you see now why your services are in such demand. Would that there were more of you, Forename. Minfilia: But you must be tired from your journey. Why don't you rest awhile, and take a moment to reflect on your decision? Once your mind is made up, pray give the Grand Company officers your answer.

Alphinaud: The gods only know what “grand” company our adventurer friend will keep. Alphinaud: Hmph. The wheels of change are in motion regardless. Alisaie: Brother, are you certain this course is best? Alphinaud: Whatever do you mean, dear sister? Alisaie: The so-called “remembrance” ceremonies were little more than standard-waving rallies. Alisaie: ...As though the Calamity and Seventh Umbral Era warranted scarcely a mention! Alphinaud: Well, of course they were “standard-waving rallies.” Alphinaud: Since you are so observant, mayhap you noticed what mention was made of the Warriors of Light? None. Alphinaud: I suppose they must have forgotten the heroes who spared Eorzea a fate worse than the Calamity? Alphinaud: No, dear Alisaie, they haven't “forgotten” these details. They have elected to omit them. Alphinaud: Deep are the wounds the Calamity inflicted upon Eorzea. So deep, in fact, that the realm still bleeds. Alphinaud: Needless to say, the beast tribes and their primals do little to alleviate the pain. Alphinaud: So the task of salving Eorzea's wounds falls to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn─with a little help from our friends the Grand Companies. Alphinaud: Remembrance will yield no remedy. If our world is to heal, we must put the horrors of the Calamity behind us. Alisaie: Our grandfather would never entrust the fate of the realm to despots who rewrite history to their convenience! Alisaie: There must be another way to cure what ails this world─and I mean to find it! Alphinaud: You are most welcome to try. Our paths may differ, but our destination is the same. In time, I daresay we will see eye to eye. Alisaie: I should hope so. ???: M-M-My lady! ???: We are to escort you! Alphinaud: Hope does not come into it. We share the burden of this fate, dear sister, and will prevail together or not at all. Alphinaud: The salve will serve not only to close up our present wounds... Alphinaud: ...but prevent old ones from opening anew.

The Company You Keep (Maelstrom) The Maelstrom recruitment officer seems eager to welcome you to Limsa Lominsa's Grand Company.

Storm Officer: How was the Admiral's speech? Ah, but you need not explain─that you stand before me now is answer enough. You have resolved to join the Maelstrom, have you not?

Join the Maelstrom?
Yes Storm Officer: That's the spirit, lass! With allies like you, how much stronger is our crew! Let us brave the seas together, friend! Storm Officer: Now the choice is made, it is time to add your name to our rolls. Make your way to Limsa Lominsa and seek out our Grand Company's headquarters.
No Storm Officer: ...Well, I daresay you have your reasons. But mark me: in stormy seas, the strong of arm and stout of heart must pull together or the vessel will founder. And when a ship goes down, the passengers always share the fate of the crew. Remember that.

Storm Officer: 'Tis on the upper decks, in case you have forgotten. I will send word to our personnel officer to expect you. Storm Officer: The duties of a Maelstrom soldier can be both arduous and challenging, but I promise you: you will not regret this choice. May your passage be swift and your bearings sure.

Storm Personnel Officer: Hail, adventurer. What business have you at Maelstrom Command?

How will you respond?
My name is Forename Surname. I believe you are expecting me. Storm Personnel Officer: Forename Surname! Aye, our recruitment officer sent word of your coming. It shall be my honor to induct you into the ranks of the Maelstrom.
I am here to enlist, if you will have me. Storm Personnel Officer: Then well met, and welcome to the Maelstrom. I'll need a name for the roll, so─ Wait a moment. You're her, aren't you? Forename Surname! Aye, you're just as our recruitment officer described. Glad to have you aboard, friend!

Storm Personnel Officer: Now, before I can accept your oath, you must be made aware of several─ Storm Private: Sir! Storm Personnel Officer: What is it, Private? And this had better be important. Storm Private: Sir! We've received a report from a lookout in lower La Noscea, sir! Imperial forces have fired upon a Highwind Skyways airship. Storm Private: The vessel is in a bad way, sir, and appears to be banking for an emergency landing in Cedarwood. Storm Personnel Officer: Cedarwood? Damn it. We have no troops available in that area. The bulk of our infantry is bogged down on the coast, skirmishing with the fishbacks. Storm Personnel Officer: Surname─this is highly irregular, but I fear your first duty in service to the Maelstrom must needs be unofficial. Storm Personnel Officer: If our man in lower La Noscea is correct, the airship will come down in territory crawling with imperial scouts. If there are any survivors, we must reach them before the Garleans do. Storm Personnel Officer: Make haste to Cedarwood, locate the airship, and if any of its occupants are alive, make sure they come to no further harm. We'll see about swearing you in upon your return.

Airship Crewman (Biggs): An adventurer!? What're you doing out here? No, wait─let's find some cover first... Airship Crewman (Biggs): Maelstrom Command sent you? How do I know you're not an imperial spy? You don't even have a uniform! Storm Lieutenant: Be at ease, sir. We are of the Maelstrom. You're a Garlond Ironworks engineer, yes? One of our lookouts reported the attack on your craft─we're here to rescue you. Storm Lieutenant: You must be Surname. Good work on reaching our friend here before the imperials. Imperial Soldier: I've never seen a craft of this design... It must be Garlond's work. Is there no end to the man's treachery? Imperial Soldier: The secrets of magitek belong in imperial hands. They are not to be squandered on Eorzean savages! Imperial Soldier: We are taking this craft back to the fortress! Dismantle it if you must! And bring the engineer! Someone must pay for Garlond's crimes. Storm Lieutenant: ...Hm. Scouting party from Castrum Occidens, I'd say. Seems they want your ship, engineer. Airship Crewman (Biggs): Wedge! You have to help him! That fool of a Lalafell was hiding inside the Tiny Bronco! Storm Lieutenant: The Tiny Bronco? Isn't that the new design people have been whispering about? Airship Crewman (Biggs): It's the first airship we've built since the Calamity─the first since Master Garlond...well, since he went missing. Airship Crewman (Biggs): After years of work, she was finally ready for her first test flight. And she was soaring, she really was─till those bastards blasted her out of the sky! Storm Lieutenant: All right, pay attention: we're going to hit these imperials hard and fast. If they want a souvenir from Eorzea, they can have a knife in the gut, but they're not getting that ship. Oh, and...don't forget to save the Lalafell. Storm Lieutenant: What say you, Surname? Ready to give those curs a hiding? Storm Lieutenant: Like a tidal wave, lads! Charge! Imperial Soldier: An ambush! To arms!

Storm Marauder: Gut the bastards! Imperial Decurion: Keep them away from the airship! Imperial Decurion: Savages! You cannot stand against the might of the Empire! Imperial Decurion: This has gone on long enough! Imperial Decurion: Exterminate these barbarians! Teach them the futility of resistance!

Wedge: Biggs! Biggs: Wedge! You shouldn't have stayed with the ship! Wedge: Th-That was a close one! Biggs: Too damn close. So...how's she look, anyway? Wedge: The auxiliary propeller is a dead loss, but I think we can wring enough thrust from the main propeller to get us airborne. Biggs: A few minor modifications and we should be able to fly the Tiny Bronco home. Storm Lieutenant: We'll stand watch until the ship is ready to take off. The imperials will come looking for their scouts eventually, but I doubt they'll get here for a good while yet. Storm Lieutenant: Surname─you're free to return to Maelstrom Command and complete your induction. Storm Lieutenant: Ordinarily, I'd ask you to stay, but I think we'd all feel better knowing an adventurer of your ability was safely sworn in and ready for the next mission! Rest assured, I'll inform Command of the part you played today. Biggs: I, um...just wanted to say sorry...you know, for calling you an imperial spy and all that... Got that one wrong, didn't I!? Ha ha! Seriously, though─if it hadn't been for you and the Twin Adder lads there, we'd be chained up in a dungeon by now. I'm in your debt, friend─we both are. Biggs: Wedge! Wedge: Thank you! We're very grateful!

Storm Personnel Officer: Welcome back, Surname. I just heard the report. Storm Personnel Officer: You needn't be concerned about the engineers─they completed their return trip without further imperial interference. Storm Personnel Officer: ...I must admit, I had my doubts at first, but it seems the stories about you are true. Storm Personnel Officer: I look forward to seeing what else you're capable of...after you're properly inducted into the Maelstrom, of course! Storm Personnel Officer: Now, speaking of your induction...

Till Sea Swallows All The personnel officer stands ready to complete your induction into the ranks.

Storm Personnel Officer: Let us start afresh, shall we? Storm Personnel Officer: You are welcome here, Forename Surname. That such as well-respected adventurer would choose to join our ranks is most heartening. Before you swear your allegiance to us, however, it is only right that I tell you exactly what it is that you will be joining. Storm Personnel Officer: A Grand Company is more than simply a collection of soldiers. It is an all-encompassing organization which draws upon the resources of an entire city-state to form a united military force capable of standing against a nation's deadliest enemies. Storm Personnel Officer: We of the Maelstrom are charged with meeting the threats posed by the primals and the Garlean Empire, and solving the many problems caused by the Calamity. Storm Personnel Officer: Every man and woman who serves under our colors has a role to play in keeping the great warship that is Limsa Lominsa afloat, and on whatever heading Chief Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn sees fit to set. Storm Personnel Officer: As part of the grand vessel's crew, you will be expected to take your turn at the oars—for the winds do not look favorable, lass, and strength of arm may be all that sees us safe to port. Storm Personnel Officer: ...If I've lost you with talk of ship and oar, let me put it another way: a Maelstrom soldier labors till her last breath, fights till her last drop of blood. We give our all in service to this nation, and no less is expected of you. Storm Personnel Officer: Surname—it is customary for new recruits to swear an oath of their own choosing upon entering the Maelstrom's ranks. Is there aught you'd like to say?

What oath will you swear?
You have my sword till sea swallows all! Storm Personnel Officer: And I've no doubt we'll need it! Keep your weapons close to hand, lass.
What skills I have are yours, till sea swallows all! Storm Personnel Officer: Ah yes, the many and varied skills of the adventurer! I've no doubt that your travels have furnished you with such knowledge as will prove invaluable to our cause.
I will follow the Admiral to the very bottom of the abyss! Storm Personnel Officer: As would we all! A capable crew is one thing, but unswerving loyalty is a trait that cannot be trained or bought. Well said, lass.
... Storm Personnel Officer: No love for grandiose proclamations, eh? Ha! Such silent resolve is not uncommon among the brothers and sisters of the sea.

Storm Personnel Officer: Forename Surname, I hereby assign you the rank of storm private third class. You are now officially a soldier of the Maelstrom. Storm Personnel Officer: Welcome aboard, Private. May you serve Limsa Lominsa well, till sea swallows all. Minfilia: Can you hear me, Forename? This is Minfilia. Minfilia: An officer of the Order of the Maelstrom contacted me with news of your enlistment. My congratulations, Private Surname. Minfilia: I have no doubt that you are eager to make the acquaintance of your new comrades, but I would ask that you pay a visit to your old ones first. Remember: though you are now a woman of the Storm, you are no less a Scion! Pray return to the Waking Sands at your earliest convenience. There are some friends here whom I would very much like you to meet. We shall be waiting! Storm Personnel Officer: No rest for the wicked, eh? Storm Personnel Officer: Before you make yourself scarce, I recommend having a word with Commander Rhiki. Might be worth your while...

Scion of the Seventh Dawn: Welcome back, Forename! Lady Minfilia awaits you within.

Minfilia: Welcome back! It seems you wasted no time putting your skills to work! Minfilia: How do I know? Why, the recruitment officer called to regale me with the tale of your heroics. The pride in his voice was palpable! Minfilia: We Scions are truly fortunate to have you with us, Forename. Minfilia: Now, when last we spoke, I said that I wanted you to meet some friends, did I not? Well, I neglected to mention that you have already met. Minfilia: Tataru─please show them in. Tataru: This way, sirs! Biggs: Thanks again for getting us out of that mess. We owe you our lives. Biggs: But I don't think we've properly introduced ourselves. I'm Biggs. Wedge: A-And I'm...I'm... Biggs: Gods, man, spit it out, will you!? Wedge: W-Wedge, at your service! Minfilia: I am pleased to say that Biggs and Wedge will be staying with us for a while. Minfilia: Magitek-driven contraptions such as airships grow ever more vital to the city-states of Eorzea. As a neutral party, it was judged that we Scions should serve as the keepers of this technology. Minfilia: Of course, for this we needed the knowledge of experts. And so we requested the assistance of Garlond Ironworks, who very kindly sent us two of their finest engineers. Minfilia: Our happy family continues to grow. On behalf of the Scions, I bid you welcome to the Waking Sands! Minfilia: Like every soul here, I love Eorzea. Minfilia: And I count myself blessed to have been given this chance to stand with you all and fight for the future of the realm. Minfilia: Never have I known such fulfillment─such happiness.

The Company You Keep (Twin Adder) The Twin Adder recruitment officer seems eager to welcome you to Gridania's Grand Company.

Serpent Officer: Ah, I take it the Elder Seedseer's words have touched your heart. Have you resolved to entwine your destiny with that of the Twin Adder?

Join the Order of the Twin Adder?
Yes Serpent Officer: You have chosen wisely, my friend! The Elder Seedseer will be overjoyed! Serpent Officer: Without further ado, let us speak of practical matters. In order to complete the enrollment procedure, you must report to the Adders' Nest.
No Serpent Officer: Ah...forgive me. In my eagerness to embrace you as a sister, I mistook your intention.

Serpent Officer: I daresay you know it well from your wanderings in New Gridania. Give your name to the personnel officer there, and he will guide you through the formalities. Serpent Officer: I have no doubt but that your deeds will bring great honor to our order. When next we meet in Gridania, I shall be proud to call you sister!

Serpent Personnel Officer: You are come to the Adders' Nest, headquarters of the Order of the Twin Adder. Ever do we welcome they who would toil in the elementals' name for the good of our forest nation.

How will you respond?
My name is Forename Surname. I believe you are expecting me. Serpent Personnel Officer: Ah, the great adventurer herself! Yes, our recruitment officer sent word that you were on your way. It is a pleasure and an honor both to welcome you to our ranks, friend.
I am here to enlist, if you will have me. Serpent Personnel Officer: Ah! Might you be Forename Surname? I thought as much! Our recruitment officer sent word that you would coming. It is a pleasure and an honor both to welcome you to our ranks.

Serpent Personnel Officer: Now, let me gather together the relevant documentation... Serpent Private: Sir! Serpent Personnel Officer: What is it? Report. Serpent Private: An urgent message from Amarissaix's Spire, sir! A Highwind Skyways airship has taken fire from imperial forces in the skies over the East Shroud! Serpent Private: The vessel's engines were crippled, sir, and it was forced to make an emergency landing southeast of Nine Ivies. Serpent Personnel Officer: Nine Ivies? Gods, this could not have come at a worse time. All but a handful of our forces are presently afield, dealing with the Ixal. Serpent Personnel Officer: Forename─I know full well you have yet to be formally inducted into our ranks, but we have urgent need of your aid. Serpent Personnel Officer: In all likelihood, the airship was bearing civilians, and if the reports are accurate, it will have come down dangerously close to Garlean-occupied territory. Serpent Personnel Officer: Please make all haste to the area southeast of Nine Ivies, locate the airship, and ascertain the status of the passengers.

Airship Crewman (Biggs): An adventurer!? What're you doing out here? No, wait─let's find some cover first... Airship Crewman (Biggs): The Adders' Nest sent you? How do I know you're not an imperial spy? You don't even have a uniform! Serpent Lieutenant: Peace, friend─we mean you no harm. You are an engineer of Garlond Ironworks, are you not? We were alerted to your plight, and have come to rescue you. Serpent Lieutenant: And you are Forename Surname, I presume. I was told to expect an “honorary” Serpent. My thanks for your aid, friend. Imperial Soldier: I've never seen a craft of this design... It must be Garlond's work. Is there no end to the man's treachery? Imperial Soldier: The secrets of magitek belong in imperial hands. They are not to be squandered on Eorzean savages! Imperial Soldier: We are taking this craft back to the fortress! Dismantle it if you must! And bring the engineer! Someone must pay for Garlond's crimes. Serpent Lieutenant: Imperial scouts from Castrum Oriens. They mean to requisition the ship. Airship Crewman (Biggs): Wedge! You have to help him! That fool of a Lalafell was hiding inside the Tiny Bronco! Serpent Lieutenant: The Tiny Bronco? But isn't that the Ironworks' latest creation!? Airship Crewman (Biggs): It's the first airship we've built since the Calamity─the first since Master Garlond...well, since he went missing. Airship Crewman (Biggs): After years of work, she was finally ready for her first test flight. And she was soaring, she really was─till those bastards blasted her out of the sky! Serpent Lieutenant: Attend me, all: the Ironworks' latest creation must not fall into Garlean hands. We shall strike them, swift and sure, and rescue Engineer Wedge. Serpent Lieutenant: Forename, I trust we can rely on your support. Serpent Lieutenant: May the Matron watch over us! With me! Imperial Soldier: An ambush! To arms!

Serpent Gladiator: Leave none standing! Imperial Decurion: Keep them away from the airship! Imperial Decurion: Savages! You cannot stand against the might of the Empire! Imperial Decurion: This has gone on long enough! Imperial Decurion: Annihilate these barbarians! Teach them the futility of resistance!

Wedge: Biggs! Biggs: Wedge! You shouldn't have stayed with the ship! Wedge: Th-That was a close one! Biggs: Too damn close. So...how's she look, anyway? Wedge: The auxiliary propeller is a dead loss, but I think we can wring enough thrust from the main propeller to get us airborne. Biggs: A few minor modifications and we should be able to fly the Tiny Bronco home. Serpent Lieutenant: While you do your work, we shall keep watch over the perimeter. The enemy may yet be lurking nearby. Serpent Lieutenant: As for you, Forename, you have more than done your part today. I bid you return to the Adders' Nest and complete your enlistment. Serpent Lieutenant: I pray there will be no further interruptions. When next we meet, let it be as fellow Serpents of the Order! Biggs: I, um...just wanted to say sorry...you know, for calling you an imperial spy and all that... Got that one wrong, didn't I!? Ha ha! Seriously, though─if it hadn't been for you and the Twin Adder lads there, we'd be chained up in a dungeon by now. I'm in your debt, friend─we both are. Biggs: Wedge! Wedge: Thank you! We're very grateful!

Serpent Personnel Officer: Forename! It does my spirit well to see you returned! Serpent Personnel Officer: Word arrived but moments ago from the team at Nine Ivies. Lest you worry, the two engineers are safely on their way. Serpent Personnel Officer: The lieutenant informs me that you were instrumental in the mission's success. Had you not found Engineer Biggs when you did, and helped us to rout the Garleans, things might have been very different. Serpent Personnel Officer: And all this before you were even inducted into the Order! You are well on your way to carving out a fine career for yourself beneath the Twin Adder standard. Serpent Personnel Officer: But without further ado, let us see to your induction. Twelve willing, there won't be any further interruptions.

Wood's Will Be Done The personnel officer stands ready to complete your induction into the ranks.

Serpent Personnel Officer: Protocol requires that I apprise you of who we are and what we do, after which I will invite you to swear an oath of your own free will. Ahem! Serpent Personnel Officer: The Order of the Twin Adder is the Grand Company of Gridania. Serpent Personnel Officer: It brings together the martial, economic, and technological resources of our nation, that we might stand strong in times of direst adversity, when our very survival hangs in the balance. Serpent Personnel Officer: Our order was formed in the days before the Calamity, in readiness to fight the Garlean Empire, and to combat the beast tribes and their primals. Needless to say, our struggle continues to this day. Serpent Personnel Officer: Elder Seedseer Kan-E-Senna is the supreme commander of our forces. Under her wise leadership, we protect the people of Gridania and the sanctity of the Twelveswood. Serpent Personnel Officer: As the entwined serpents that grace our standard, let forestborn strive as one with friends from afar to ensure that peace shall ever reign in Gridania. Serpent Personnel Officer: In so doing, we honor the will of the elementals, and theirs is the will of the wood. Serpent Personnel Officer: Now then, Forename Surname, I ask that you give unto us your oath of allegiance, in whatever fashion you see fit.

What oath will you swear?
Wood's will be done! Serpent Personnel Officer: So you know the words of our Grand Company. That is well. Bound by this common belief, let us strive to preserve all that is good in this great nation.
I shall strike down our enemies and drink of their blood! Serpent Personnel Officer: Uh...quite. Your fervor is duly noted. May it lend you strength as you strive to preserve all that is good in this great nation.
My life for the Elder Seedseer! Serpent Personnel Officer: The Elder Seedseer is a kind and gentle soul who holds the welfare of her people above all else. Your faith in her is well placed.
... Serpent Personnel Officer: The elementals need not words to know your heart, and there is no doubt in mine own that you will prove a stalwart servant to them.

Serpent Personnel Officer: By the power vested in me, I assign you the rank of serpent private third class. Serpent Personnel Officer: You are now a woman of the Order of the Twin Adder. Go forth, Private Surname, and do that which brings peace to the Twelveswood and honor to our name. Minfilia: Can you hear me, Forename? This is Minfilia. Minfilia: An officer of the Order of the Twin Adder contacted me with news of your enlistment. My congratulations, Private Surname. Minfilia: I have no doubt that you are eager to make the acquaintance of your new comrades, but I would ask that you pay a visit to your old ones first. Remember: though you are now a Serpent of Gridania, you are no less a Scion! Pray return to the Waking Sands at your earliest convenience. There are some friends here whom I would very much like you to meet. We shall be waiting! Serpent Personnel Officer: The distant call of a friend in need, perhaps? Serpent Personnel Officer: As you are needed elsewhere, I shall not keep you any longer. I would, however, suggest speaking with High Serpent Commander Vorsaile Heuloix before you depart. He may provide you with assistance on the journey ahead.

Scion of the Seventh Dawn: Welcome back, Forename! Lady Minfilia awaits you within.

The Company You Keep (Immortal Flames) The Immortal Flames recruitment officer seems eager to welcome you to Ul'dah's Grand Company.

Flame Officer: Welcome back, adventurer! I take it General Raubahn's words kindled a fire within you?

Join the Immortal Flames?
Yes Flame Officer: Excellent! I feared that the incident with the traitor may have soured your opinion of us. It gladdens me to see that isn't the case. Flame Officer: But before we can count you as one of our own, you must be formally inducted into our ranks.
No Flame Officer: What? You cannot seriously be considering joining another Grand Company! Why, they are not nearly as grand as ours!

Flame Officer: Please proceed to the Hall of Flames on Ul'dah's Merchant Strip and identify yourself to the personnel officer. I will notify him of your coming. Flame Officer: With your strength joined to ours, we shall surely prevail over our enemies, be they beastmen or imperials.

Flame Personnel Officer: What brings you to the Hall of Flames this evening, adventurer?

How will you respond?
My name is Forename Surname. I believe you are expecting me. Flame Personnel Officer: Ah, I thought as much! You are just as our man at the Waking Sands described! It is an honor to meet you, madam!
I am here to enlist, if you will have me. Flame Personnel Officer: Is that so? Well then, I must ask you for your name. Ah, but let me guess. It is Forename Surname, is it not? Yes, you are just as our man at the Waking Sands described. Thank you for electing to join us.

Flame Personnel Officer: Now, in order to formalize your─ Flame Private: Sir! Flame Personnel Officer: Speak, Private. Flame Private: Imperials, sir! They've fired on a Highwind Skyways airship! Flame Private: Scouts say she's coming down to the west, near Horizon's Edge! Flame Personnel Officer: Bloody hells! Of all the times for this to happen! Flame Personnel Officer: Forename, there's no time for formalities! The Immortal Flames need your help now! Flame Personnel Officer: We're in the midst of a large-scale operation against the Amalj'aa, and we have no one to spare in western Thanalan. You must get to that ship before the Garleans do! Flame Personnel Officer: If there are any survivors, see that they do not come to further harm. Now go!

Airship Crewman (Biggs): An adventurer? What're you doing out here? No, wait─let's find some cover first... Airship Crewman (Biggs): The Immortal Flames sent you? How do I know you're not an imperial spy? You don't even have a uniform! Flame Lieutenant: Are you all right, sir? Our scouts reported the attack on your craft. We've come to rescue you. Flame Lieutenant: Forename Surname, yes? Glad to have you with us. Imperial Soldier: I have not seen a craft of this design before... That traitor Garlond has been busy. Imperial Soldier: The secrets of magitek are ours by right. They are not to be squandered upon the savages of this land. Imperial Soldier: We are taking this craft back to the fortress! Dismantle it if you must! And bring the engineer! Someone must pay for Garlond's crimes. Flame Lieutenant: They mean to take the ship back to Castrum Meridianum, along with your friend. Airship Crewman (Biggs): Wedge! You have to help him! That fool of a Lalafell was hiding inside the Tiny Bronco! Flame Lieutenant: Nice-looking ship—though not the best place to have taken shelter, I agree. Airship Crewman (Biggs): It's the first airship we've built since the Calamity─the first since Master Garlond...well, since he went missing. Airship Crewman (Biggs): After years of work, she was finally ready for her first test flight. And she was soaring, she really was─till those bastards blasted her out of the sky! Serpent Lieutenant: We attack on my command. Kill them quickly, and save the Lalafell if possible. Serpent Lieutenant: Is that clear, Forename? Serpent Lieutenant: Show them what becomes of those who play with fire! Charge! Imperial Soldier: We're under attack! To arms!

Flame Gladiator: Give them no quarter, Flames! Imperial Decurion: Defend the airship! Kill the savages! Imperial Decurion: What are you doing? Kill them, I said! Imperial Decurion: Where's that bloody vanguard? We need it NOW! Imperial Decurion: Hahaha! Show them no mercy!

Wedge: Biggs! Biggs: Wedge! You shouldn't have stayed with the ship! Wedge: Th-That was a close one! Biggs: Too damn close. So...how's she look, anyway? Wedge: The auxiliary propeller is a dead loss, but I think we can wring enough thrust from the main propeller to get us airborne. Biggs: A few minor modifications and we should be able to fly the Tiny Bronco home. Flame Lieutenant: The imperials will come looking for their scouts, but we can defend this position until the engineers leave. Flame Lieutenant: You should go, Forename. You still have unfinished business to attend to at the Hall of Flames. Flame Lieutenant: You're not quite one of us yet, though anyone who'd seen you in action today would be forgiven for thinking otherwise. Biggs: I, um...just wanted to say sorry...you know, for calling you an imperial spy and all that... Got that one wrong, didn't I!? Ha ha! Seriously, though─if it hadn't been for you and the Twin Adder lads there, we'd be chained up in a dungeon by now. I'm in your debt, friend─we both are. Biggs: Wedge! Wedge: Thank you! We're very grateful!

Flame Personnel Officer: Welcome back, Forename. Word of your deeds in the field reached me not long ago. Exemplary service! Flame Personnel Officer: Rest assured that the Garlond Ironworks engineers are fine. They were able to get their vessel back in the air before imperial reinforcements arrived. Flame Personnel Officer: Your willingness to assist us on such short notice is to be commended. Clearly, your reputation is well deserved. Flame Personnel Officer: Now then, I believe we have some unfinished business. Flame Personnel Officer: Shall we continue from where we left off and induct you into the Immortal Flames?

For Coin and Country The personnel officer stands ready to complete your induction into the ranks.

Flame Personnel Officer: Are you ready, Forename? Then let us begin. Flame Personnel Officer: Forename Surname—you stand poised to enter a sacred trust. Flame Personnel Officer: The Flames of Ul'dah burn bright, casting light where there is dark and purging evil wheresoever it lurks. Flame Personnel Officer: We are ever ready to meet the nation's enemies in battle, be they beastmen, Galreans, or worse. Flame Personnel Officer: And at a word from Flame General Raubahn Aldynn, we would gladly lay down our lives to maintain the peace and prosperity of Ul'dah. Flame Personnel Officer: To join our ranks, you must forsake all other nations. Only then may you commit yourself to the fire and be reborn as an Immortal Flame. Flame Personnel Officer: Burn as one of us, Forename Surname, and together we shall chase the darkness from Ul'dah! Flame Personnel Officer: Will you swear an oath to mark this occasion?

What oath will you swear?
My sword belongs to Ul'dah! Flame Personnel Officer: Spoken like a soldier! You'll do well here.
What skills I have belong now to Ul'dah! Flame Personnel Officer: And Ul'dah will have need of them in the days ahead. The knowledge and experience of well-traveled adventurers are valuable assets.
I will follow the Flame General unto death! Flame Personnel Officer: Hah! The Flame General would lead the van in every battle if he could. 'Twouldn't surprise me if you had the chance to fight by his side one day!
... Flame Personnel Officer: I take it you would rather be judged by your deeds. I respect that. We want a woman of action, not words.

Flame Personnel Officer: Very well. Your resolve is plain. Forename Surname—I hereby confer upon you the rank of flame private third class. Welcome to the Immortal Flames, Private. Flame Personnel Officer: May you fight to the last for coin and country. Minfilia: Can you hear me, Forename? This is Minfilia. Minfilia: An officer of the Order of the Immortal Flames contacted me with news of your enlistment. My congratulations, Private Surname. Minfilia: I have no doubt that you are eager to make the acquaintance of your new comrades, but I would ask that you pay a visit to your old ones first. Remember: though you are now a Flame of Ul'dah, you are no less a Scion! Pray return to the Waking Sands at your earliest convenience. There are some friends here whom I would very much like you to meet. We shall be waiting! Flame Personnel Officer: It seems your presence is required elsewhere. Flame Personnel Officer: But before you leave, perhaps you could find a moment to speak with Commander Swift. He is not one to see new recruits go into the field unprepared.

Scion of the Seventh Dawn: Welcome back, Forename! Lady Minfilia awaits you within.

Sylph-management Minfilia needs you to investigate the sylphs.

Minfilia: Now, having set aside the formalities... Minfilia: ...We have a favor to ask of you. Minfilia: Urianger. Have the documents arrived from the Students of Baldesion? Urianger: Aye, my lady, they arrived but recently. Minfilia: We have conducted a study at the behest of the Order of the Twin Adder. Minfilia: Papalymo, Yda─a synopsis, if you would. Papalymo: Our task was to survey the behavior of the sylphs, a beast tribe indigenous to the Twelveswood. Yda (Lyse): Oh, how to describe them... They look like...gysahl greens? Floating ones! That worship the primal Ramuh. Papalymo: Ahem. Though technically a “beast tribe,” sylphs are blessed with a comparatively personable demeanor, conducive to peaceful communication. Minfilia: Offering us an invaluable opportunity to learn what the beast tribes know of the primals. Papalymo: While Ramuh's existence is well documented, the sylphs do not─or perhaps, can not─summon the primal any longer, insofar as can be ascertained. Until such time as we know... Papalymo: ...It would be unwise to assume that the threat posed by the primal has passed. Yda (Lyse): Which leaves Gridania with the added worry of not knowing what they should be worrying about! Papalymo: In that regard, they are hardly alone. What we can say with absolute certainty is that Gridania has its hands full fending off Garuda. Papalymo: Who, I need hardly remind you, is among the most savage and terrible of all known primals. Minfilia: In short, it is essential that we approach the sylphs in as diplomatic a manner as possible. Minfilia: Words and actions can be misconstrued. The only sure way to communicate our intentions is the Echo. Minfilia: Winning the sylphs' favor may well bring us a step closer to mitigating the threat of the primals. Will you help us? Minfilia: I am grateful. Thancred (Lahabrea): Lovely! Well, as much as I'd like to help, I'm afraid I would be of little use to anyone in Gridania. A veritable babe in the woods. Thancred (Lahabrea): Yda and Papalymo, however, should be able to see the forest for the trees. Is that not so, Minfilia? Minfilia: Indeed. You are willing? Yda (Lyse): Leave it to me! Papalymo: Us, Yda. Us!

Vorsaile Heuloix: We know far too little of the sylphs to lay any worthwhile plans. We must call upon the Scions once more if we are to─ Vorsaile Heuloix: Ah, beg pardons. 'Tis a terrible habit of mine to think aloud. But tell me, what brings you to the Adders' Nest?

We Come in Peace Commander Vorsaile Heuloix has been awaiting the aid of the Scions.

Vorsaile Heuloix: Hail, adventurer. I bid you welcome to the Adders' Nest. Do you seek to entwine your destiny with the Twin Adder? Yda (Lyse): Good evening, Commander! Sorry to disappoint you, but other business brings us here today. Vorsaile Heuloix: Yda and Papalymo, always a pleasure to see the two of you. My men tell me you quest in the name of the Scions of late. Papalymo: Quite so, Commander. A little bird told us that the Twin Adder was in need of our adventuring prowess. Vorsaile Heuloix: Aye, your little bird sings true. No doubt you've heard that we're investigating the sylphs─that curious beast tribe that calls the depths of the Twelveswood home. Vorsaile Heuloix: The sylphs are, for the most part, a peaceable bunch─much to the delight of the Elder Seedseer, who has no desire to see her people embroiled in yet another fruitless war. Vorsaile Heuloix: The Twin Adder is of the same mind, and 'tis precisely for this reason that the sylphs' relation to the primal Ramuh has raised a flag of warning amongst our ranks. Vorsaile Heuloix: Friendly as they may appear, beastmen will be beastmen. Vorsaile Heuloix: Should there be even a sliver of a chance that the summoning of the primal might disturb the balance between Gridania and the sylphic tribes, it is a possibility we cannot ignore. Papalymo: Better to be safe than sorry, indeed. Vorsaile Heuloix: Do we strike at Ramuh, or leave the sylphs to their own ways? That is the question, yet I find myself lacking ample knowledge to arrive at an answer. Vorsaile Heuloix: Opinions abound within Gridania, but to listen only to one's own is among the greatest mistakes a commander can make. Vorsaile Heuloix: I would hear from the other side─the sylphs themselves─and seek an impartial party to serve as my liaison. That is where you Scions come in. Vorsaile Heuloix: The sylphs of Little Solace remain untempered, and have held many a productive dialogue with our people. I would hear their candid thoughts on their tempered brethren. Vorsaile Heuloix: That said, I urge you to exercise due caution. Sylphic tradition and etiquette bear little resemblance to our own. It would not do to have any cross-cultural faux pas get in the way of a productive parley. Vorsaile Heuloix: En route to Little Solace, you will come upon the Hawthorne Hut. Our officer stationed there can enlighten you as to how to win the sylphs' favor. May your expedition be a worthwhile one. Papalymo: A friendly palaver with the sylphs? This should be a pleasant enough diversion. Papalymo: The Hawthorne Hut, was it? Why, I believe the ferry departing from Westshore Pier should take us straight there. Yda (Lyse): A friendly palaver, indeed! I hope this will be as straightforward as you say, Papalymo.

Mitainie: Aye, the ferry docked at the base of this hill will carry you across the lake to the East Shroud. Mitainie: Once you're ashore, head due east and you should find the Hawthorne Hut without much trouble.

Amelain: Indeed, I am Amelain of the Twin Adder. I understand you're here to learn of the sylphs, yes? Amelain: For all their whimsy, they are a wary lot. Particularly since the Empire has come to the Shroud. Amelain: Earn their trust, however, and they're as friendly as any folk. They have their quirks, but so do we all, no? Amelain: Would you know more, you'd do well to speak with the master of this hut, Rolfe. He's forgotten more about the sylphs than I'll ever know.

Sylphic Studies Rolfe Hawthorne, patriarch of the beekeeping Hawthorne family, is said to be well versed in sylphic customs.

Rolfe Hawthorne: Come to learn a thing or two about the sylphs, have you? I'll tell you one thing, they're a peculiar folk. How peculiar, you ask? Well, just let me tell you! Rolfe Hawthorne: They're... They're... Er... <sigh> Beg pardon, friend. My memory's just not what it used to be. I've seen much and more in my adventuring days, and it's all a clutter in my noggin now. Though, I've shared my stories with those around the hut before. You might have more luck with them.

Ysabel Hawthorne: The sylphs? Yes, Father's told me his stories plenty of times. What I've always found most captivating is how their concept of etiquette is almost completely alien to our own. Ysabel Hawthorne: You'd do best not to underestimate them on account of their childlike looks, lest your face end up a mess of glyphs, squiggles, and chocobo scratches. Tee hee!

Blaisette: The quickest way to a Quiverwoman's heart might be through her stomach, but don't even think of trying to foist your foodstuffs on a sylph. They sustain themselves simply by bathing in the sun, or so Rolfe once told me.

Monne: The sylphs? Inveterate tricksters and troublemakers, that's what they are! One day they're drawing morbol faces on our masks, the next they're sending our young sentries falling to the bottom of a ravine! Monne: Tell them to stop and they just laugh at you. Rolfe claims they harbor no ill will, but I daresay such pranks are no laughing matter.

Rolfe Hawthorne: Oh, of course, of course! Hearing your stories─well, my stories─has brought the memories flooding back to me. I feel...I feel like dancing! Rolfe Hawthorne: Yes, nothing brings people together quite like a little toe-tapping. A sylph told me long ago that dancing is a time-honored greeting among their kind. You'd do well to remember this─it just may help win the favor of our forest friends.

First Impressions Rolfe Hawthorne would share further knowledge to assist you in befriending the sylphs.

Rolfe Hawthorne: Oh, still here, eh? Great! There's one more thing you should know about the sylphs. They don't take kindly to guests who show up empty-handed. To earn their trust, you'd do well to bring along a...a... Uh... Rolfe Hawthorne: Drat! What was it, again? And my wife Rosa and I were just speaking of the matter not days ago... Rolfe Hawthorne: Forgive me, friend. Speak to Rosa at the Comb─her memory should prove more reliable than mine own.

Rosa Hawthorne: A peace offering for the sylphs? Were it anyone else, I'd recommend a jar of honey, but I fear that wouldn't get you past their front doorstep, dear. No, their tastes run more to the unusual. Rosa Hawthorne: Are you, perchance, familiar with milkroot? That's what we call the root of that most fiendish seedkin, the ochu. When chewed, it exudes a cloudy liquid that's said to induce curious visions in the imbiber. You'd not catch me dead trying the stuff, but the sylphs seem to enjoy it to no end. Rosa Hawthorne: I've not seen an ochu around the Comb in quite some time, but I did encounter a suspicious clump of grass the other day. Were you to stimulate it somehow─with some of this amber syrup, for example─you might be surprised at what comes out. Good luck.

Amber Syrup A nutrient-rich alchemic compound used to quicken seedkin growth.

Rolfe Hawthorne: Ah, you're back. Was my wife able to direct you to a suitable offering?

Milkroot The thick white sap extracted from this ochu root has the power to grant its user wondrously terrible visions.

Rolfe Hawthorne: Milkroot! But of course! Those sylphs quaff that cloudy stuff as quick as I do a flagon of mead. The effect's just about the same, as well. Rolfe Hawthorne: Anyroad, a gift of milkroot will have the sylphs calling you friend and sister the moment they lay eyes on it. Now let me wrap that up for you─I'm startin' to feel a bit woozy...

First Contact Rolfe Hawthorne has gift wrapped your offering in preparation for your journey into the sylphs' demesne.

Rolfe Hawthorne: I've taken the liberty of wrapping your milkroot well and good. This should keep it nice and fresh, not to mention spare you from that gods-awful stench. Rolfe Hawthorne: The sylphs love the stuff, but me, I'd rather bury my nose in chocobo dung. I daresay the reek even rivals the breath of the morbol that put an end to my adventuring days! Rolfe Hawthorne: But I can tell you that story another time. You've more important matters to attend to today, yes? The sylphs are an eccentric bunch, but I've shared their company enough to know they're kind at heart. They'll not shun one whose intentions are true. Rolfe Hawthorne: May your parley be a fruitful one, friend. And do stop by on your return─there's a flagon of Fullflower mead with your name on it if you'd regale me with your adventuring tales. Rolfe Hawthorne: Ah, and afore I forget, don't go traipsing off just yet. Amelain here would have a word with you. Travel in safety, friend, and do pass along my regards to the winged ones.

Amelain: It's good to see your knowledge of sylphic culture has matured. I see no reason to delay your mission any further. Amelain: Upon your arrival at Little Solace, seek out a young sylph by the name of Komuxio. He has served as an intermediary between our peoples on many an occasion, and has the close ear of his tribe's elder. Amelain: I see that Hawthorne has furnished you with some of that malodorous root the sylphs so adore. I have something of far greater import for you to deliver─a missive from the Elder Seedseer herself. Amelain: To summarize the letter's contents in brief, it vouches for the integrity of our envoy─that would be you─and restates Gridania's desire to maintain a harmonious relationship with our long-standing friends of the forest. Amelain: The war with the Ixal has taken a toll on our resources; we can ill afford to get mired in another conflict. I need not impress upon you any further the importance of this mission. May the Twelve see you return with good tidings.

Komuxio: Walking one is not familiar to this one. This one does not trust strange walking ones. Strange dancing ones might be a different story, but this one expects no such thing. Walking one should go home, and leave this one be.

Komuxio: This one would welcome walking one who moves like these ones. If walking one would talk to this one, this one will answer. This one is a busy one, so walking one should speak with quick tongue.

Komuxio: Walking one would bring gift to this one? Walking one is most kind.

Milkroot The thick white sap extracted from this ochu root has the power to grant its user wondrously terrible visions.

Letter to the Elder An important missive penned by Seedseer Kan-E-Senna and addressed to a sylph elder.

Komuxio: Walking one brings milkroot! Milkroot fills this one with great joy! Komuxio: This one gives thanks. Gives many, many thanks. Komuxio: Walking one carries message for elder one? This one will deliver the message to elder one. Walking one should not worry. Yda (Lyse): Hello there! We're envoys from Gridania, and we're here to treat with your people! Papalymo: Aye. We come to pay our respects to your elder, and to learn from him more of your Lord Ramuh. Komuxio: Who are these ones? These walking ones come from Gridania? Komuxio: Walking one became a dancing one and brought milkroot, but walking one tricks this one! This one does not like tricks! Komuxio: This one will speak no more. Elder one is busy. Walking ones should go home. Yda (Lyse): G-Go home, you say!? But the sylphs of Little Solace have always welcomed Gridanian envoys with open wings! Papalymo: The letter carried by Forename here is an oath of peace penned by the Elder Seedseer herself! Still you would refuse us? Komuxio: This one's reasons are no business of walking ones. Elder one has no words for Gridania. Walking ones waste every one's time. Yda (Lyse): Well, I never! Turned away at the gates! Whatever did we do to deserve such a rude welcome? Was Forename's jig insufficiently jiggy? Papalymo: I'm as baffled as you, but something tells me recent events have our erstwhile fluttery friends feeling uncommonly wary. It would seem we've no choice but to ask around and see how we might earn their trust.

Dance Dance Diplomacy Yda has a notion of how one might earn the sylphs' trust.

Yda (Lyse): Say, Forename. Are you in the mood for dancing? Yda (Lyse): That's right: dancing! You went through all that trouble to learn the sylphs' traditional greeting, but you've greeted hardly any of them. Yda (Lyse): Why, if I were a sylph, I'd be beside myself with delight to see an adventurer expressing an interest in my culture! Me? Of course I'd be happy to join─ow, ow! There go those bloody leg cramps of mine acting up again!

Knolexia: Oooh, walking one knows jolly dance! Jolly dance fills this one with good cheer! Let these two be friends!

Ameexia: Walking one would be a friend to these ones? This one is overjoyed! But this one keeps the ways of weaving a secret. Even if walking one learned the secret, walking one could not weave in the same way.

Dellexia: Ah, walking one is a friend to these ones! Friendly like gracious elder one of forest city. Knows how to dance into these ones' hearts!

Yda (Lyse): Forename! Would you like to hear the good news, or the better news? The good news is that your lovely dancing has brought smiles and high spirits to all of Little Solace! The better news? Why, I've thoroughly recovered from those accursed leg cramps! Onward to our next adventure!

Forest Friend Papalymo has a notion of how you might endear yourself to the sylphs of Little Solace.

Papalymo: Forename. As an adventurer, you're no stranger to helping distressed folk, I'd wager. Papalymo: Tales of good deeds are quick to spread. The adventurer who comes to the aid of the local populace can go from stranger to hero o'ernight. Papalymo: No doubt you see what I'm getting at. The sylphs who make their home in Little Solace do so having been driven from their woodland home. Surely, they have their fair share of troubles. Papalymo: Seek out troubled sylphs, and see what might be done to ease their worries. A sound plan, would you not say? Papalymo: That said, the sylphs are not known to share their worries with outsiders. You would be better off inquiring with Hearer Imedia; of the Gridanians who reside here, she is most like to be privy to the sylphs' troubles.

Imedia: Praise be to the elementals─I cannot express how happy I am to see an adventurer with a truly gentle heart. The sylphs of Little Solace are sorely in need of aid. Pray hear me out. Imedia: Being a temporary settlement, Little Solace wants for amenities, not least a stout set of defenses. Consequently, beasts from malms around are free to wander in and terrorize the hapless residents. Imedia: The ziz gorlins and gall gnats that roam these parts are especially troublesome, but slaying one of each should serve as a warning to the rest. Imedia: Furthermore, perhaps you could gather three brownie brushes as well. They play an important role in sylphic culture─I do not claim to know the details─and what with such feral beasts prowling the forests, they are not easily come by. Imedia: When you are done with the deeds, seek out Komuxio. He is slow to warm to outsiders, but your good intentions will not be lost on him. My own experience speaks to this.

Komuxio: Dancing one is still here? Dancing one can dance all day—this one's trust is not so easily earned.

Brownie Brush Legend says that Eorzea was once inhabited by a race of tiny creatures called brownies, and they would use the spores of this particular mushroom to paint their faces for battle.

Komuxio: Hm? Dancing one brings brownie brushes for this one? This one can dye thread once more. This one is pleased. Komuxio: Dancing one kills bitey, buzzy one? This one hates, hates, hates bitey, buzzy ones! Dancing one is kind... Too kind. Komuxio: Many walking ones come to these ones' abode, but few are friendly like dancing one. Perhaps this one was wrong not to trust dancing one, after all.

Presence of the Enemy Komuxio of Little Solace would entrust you with a task.

Komuxio: This one asks dancing one for forgiveness. These ones have many troubles since walking ones last came to our abode. This one must be careful. Always careful. Komuxio: But dancing one is not like other walking ones. This one can trust dancing one. This one would ask dancing one for help. Komuxio: Strange walking ones with bodies of steel come to the home of these ones. This one thinks steel ones come from Empire. Komuxio: Where Empire goes, many living ones become dead ones. Trees fall and bushes burn. These ones' home is in danger. Danger! Komuxio: This one begs of dancing one to help this one know more. Dancing one is friends with these ones and walking ones, yes? Dancing one must speak to these ones here and walking ones in hut-house and find out more. Komuxio: This one has bad feeling. This one fears steel ones are after something. But this one should speak no more. Go, dancing one. This one depends on kindness of dancing one.

Pelixia: Strange steel walking ones? Yes, this one has seen. Steel walking ones carry big boxes. Maybe walking ones hunt for shiny treasure? This one likes treasure!

Nathaxio: Shush! Shush, this one says! Steel walking ones are scary, like touched ones... This one hates scary! And scary ones have scary friends...

Monne: Men clad in strange armor? Why, now that you mention it, I did see some suspicious types of late. They were gathering deep in the forest. I simply assumed they were adventurers...

Victor: Fearsome types clad head to toe in steel, you say? Imperial soldiers, no doubt. I couldn't tell you what they're plotting, but I'm sure it's nothing good.

Komuxio: This one is happy to see dancing one return. What did dancing one learn? Komuxio: This one sees. Steel walking ones come from Empire. Carry boxes, and go walking deep, deep through trees. Komuxio: As this one thought! Steel walking ones are up to nasty, no-good things. Komuxio: This one knows forest well. Steel walking ones try to hide, but this one will find them. Komuxio: This one would borrow dancing one's map. This one makes mark─right here! This is where steel ones hide, this one knows. Dancing one will go looking for steel ones, yes?

Komuxio: Dancing one is back. This one breathes sigh of relief. This one was worried. Hm? Dancing one found something?

Quartermaster's Log A list of supplies and materiel to be delivered to a certain imperial stronghold.

Komuxio: Dancing one found paper inside of box? This is a message from Empire? Komuxio: This one can read walking ones' symbols. Message-paper has names of food and rocks. Food and rocks were inside boxes, this one knows. Komuxio: But this one does not understand. Food and rocks mentioned all come from home of these ones. How do steel walking ones know to find them? Komuxio: Is there sneaky one hiding behind this one's wings? Snooping one selling secrets to steel walking ones? Komuxio: This one fears for this one's home. But dancing one has helped this one much today. Dancing one must promise to always be friend to these ones.

Brotherly Love Komuxio is pining for a wayward friend.

Komuxio: Helpful one arrives at a good time! This one needs helpful one's help! Komuxio: One of these ones named Claxio ventured outside Little Solace alone. Alone is unsafe! Helpful one must find Claxio! Komuxio: Claxio struck west after leaving the settlement. Hurry before Claxio ends up in the belly of a beastly one!

Claxio: What? Walking one wants this one to return to Little Solace? Don't make this one laugh! Claxio: This one is weary of living with those who are not these ones. This one wants to be alone. Claxio: These ones rely on walking ones for everything. No better than those ones that summoned a primal one! Small wonder this one chose to leave! Claxio: This one thought this a likely place to build a home. But then meddling one arrives─forces this one to go deeper into the forest. Meddling one is forbidden from following this one! Away with meddling one!

Komuxio: What? Claxio refused to return to these ones, and went deeper into the forest!? Komuxio: B-But this one saw touched ones lurking in the forest! Helpful one must hurry─hurry and find Claxio! Komuxio: Helpful one should search for spools of thread on the forest floor. Those things will lead helpful one to Claxio. But hurry! Hurry, before touched ones take Claxio away!

Claxio: Meddling one is back!? This one told meddling one to be gone! Tell Komuxio that this one will never go back! Never! Claxio: T-Touched ones? Touched ones should go away too! This one is good one! Every one should just leave this one alone!!! Papalymo: Be on guard, Forename. These sylphs have been tempered―brought under the thrall of the primal Ramuh. Papalymo: Akin to the Amalj'aa tempered by Ifrit, these sylphs exist only to serve their deity. Yda (Lyse): They'll not answer to words―only steel. I take no pleasure in this, but it must be done.

Sylvan Budnapper: Claxio... These ones are your friends... Come with these ones... Serve primal one together... Claxio: No! This one is good one! Will never go with bad ones! Sylvan Budnapper: Meddling one not smart to anger this one... This one has many friends in the forest... Yda (Lyse): Hurry up, Papalymo―I can't bear this stench any longer! Papalymo: I'm doing the best I can! If we dispatch the sylphs, surely... Papalymo: A morbol!? And things were going so well... Papalymo: There's something not right about this morbol. Ignore it and focus your attacks on the sylphs! Claxio: N-No...not stinky one! Stinky one is scary! Stinky one's stink makes this one's head go spinning! Yda (Lyse): Ick! Forename―Papalymo and I can handle this beast. You take care of the sylphs!

Claxio: Th-This one is...safe? This one was so scared... Komuxio: Claxio! This one has been worried! So very worried! Is Claxio unharmed? Still in possession of wits? Claxio: K-Komuxio? And meddling one as well... Why are these two here? Komuxio: These two came to rescue Claxio! That Claxio is safe fills this one with joy! Claxio: Komuxio...forgive this one. This one did not mean to run away from Little Solace. This one was just...afraid. Claxio: These ones who live at Little Solace were changing─becoming friendly with other ones. Claxio: This one feared that these ones were forgetting who these ones are...like touched ones did. But this one was wrong. This one can see that now. Claxio: Meddling─er, helpful one. This one is grateful. This one will return to Little Solace to be with Komuxio and friendly ones. Papalymo: Well, that should see to that. What say we return to Little Solace as well? I, for one, could do with a nice, hot bath.

Komuxio: This one thought Claxio was lost forever. Helpful one saved Claxio―now these ones can be family again. Komuxio: This one has known many walking ones―even many kind walking ones―but helpful one is kindest and strongest of all. Helpful one is a hero to these ones. Komuxio: Helpful one will bring these ones and walking ones closer together―this one knows. This one would take helpful one to see elder one. Komuxio: But elder one is... Elder one is...

Spirited Away Komuxio would make a confession to you.

Komuxio: This one must ask kind one's forgiveness. This one made promise to take kind one to see elder one, yes? But this one cannot... Komuxio: This one cannot because...elder one is not here. Elder one is not anywhere. Elder one went into forest yesterday, but has not come back... Komuxio: This one is worried. Elder one often goes into forest, but never, never for this long. Kind one will help find elder one, yes? Komuxio: Near where elder one disappeared is the home of a walking one named Buscarron. Buscarron may know what happened to elder one. Komuxio: This one would talk to Buscarron...but walking ones do not always trust these ones. Would kind one talk to Buscarron for this one? Komuxio: And kind one comes from Gridania, yes? In Gridania live many kind ones, yes? Komuxio: This one begs of kind one. Please go to Gridania and ask fellow kind ones for help. And please hurry─these ones are not safe until elder one returns.

Vorsaile Heuloix: Well, if it isn't our intrepid ambassador. How fare your diplomatic efforts with the sylph tribes? Vorsaile Heuloix: Their elder's gone missing, you say!? Why, if he were to end up in the hands of the tempered ones, we'd have a crisis on our hands. Vorsaile Heuloix: You can assure the sylphs that my sharpest-eyed Serpents will be on the lookout night and day. Vorsaile Heuloix: No stone must be left unturned. I would ask you to call upon Giah Molkoh at Bentbranch Meadows and deliver the message that the Wood Wailers are needed in the search effort.

Giah Molkoh: A message from Commander Heuloix, you say? Giah Molkoh: The sylph elder has vanished? Worry not, friend─the Wood Wailers have eyes under every leaf, behind every branch. If the elder is anywhere in these forests, we shall find him.

Buscarron: Well met, adventurer! We have the finest grog and grub this side of─ Eh? Not here to fill your belly, then? Buscarron: Ahhh, a hunger for news, is it? Aye, there's been talk of a sylph lurking hereabouts, but I couldn't rightly say if it be the elder you seek. Buscarron: Those woodland scamps all look alike. Short of painting one red and another one blue, most folk would struggle to tell two of 'em apart. Buscarron: If you've the time, mayhap you could stay a while and see what the gods have in store. You never know, you might even stumble across this sylph elder yourself.

Druthers House Rules Buscarron could use an adventurer to douse a fight brewing at his establishment.

Buscarron: No word on the sylph elder yet, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time. In the meantime, how about doing a favor for old Buscarron in return? Buscarron: Right, then, let's put you to work. There's a customer outside who's spoiling for a fight and I need you to cool him off for me. Buscarron: No need to go cracking any skulls, though. Just take this tub of cold water and douse the drunkard. Tends to do the trick. Buscarron: My patrons can swill grog all night and carouse loud enough to wake the dead if they wish, but as soon as it turns violent, I've got to put my boot down.

Mead-soaked Midlander: What are you starin' at!? You wanna keep them eyes in yer face?

Water-filled Tub The wooden tub entrusted to you at Buscarron's Druthers is now filled to the brim with cool river water.

Mead-soaked Midlander: Ugh! Nophica's teats, that's cold! What do you mean, “no fightin'”? This Duskwight scum was─ Mead-soaked Midlander: Yeah, yeah, I know the rules. That bastard gets to keep his skin...for now.

Buscarron: Nicely done, Forename. I'll not have my patrons picking fights with each other over a bit of petty prejudice. Buscarron: In case you didn't see, the bloke who caught the brunt of that outburst is a Duskwight Elezen. They're a people who shun cities to live in the wilds, making them no better than brigands in the eyes of many. Buscarron: To be fair, the Duskwights can be an unruly lot, but they ain't so bad once you get to know them. And it don't seem right to bar a whole race of people from the Druthers for the misdeeds of a few. Buscarron: There should be at least one place where anyone willing to pay the coin and drink in peace is welcome, don't you think?

Never Forget The eponymous proprietor of Buscarron's Druthers has need of an able adventurer.

Buscarron: I appreciate all the good you've done for our patrons. If you aren't disinclined, I have a favor of my own to ask you. Buscarron: There's a Qiqirn friend of mine, you see─name of Teteroon. A good lad. It was right after the Calamity that I came across him fallen in the Shroud. He nearly died in all the havoc. So, I took him in and nursed him back to health best I could. Buscarron: He worked here at my Druthers for a spell after that. Got to talking about striking out on his own, he did, and not long after cast his lot with a merchant bound for La Noscea. Buscarron: Well, it just so happens I got to cleaning up around here and came across something of his─this scarlet earring. I know he was fond of the thing, but he must have just forgotten it when he left. So, I'd like to see that it gets to him. Buscarron: Can't say for sure where he ended up, but might be a friend of mine can. A Roegadyn fellow named Baensyng. You can find him on Hawkers' Alley in Limsa Lominsa. He knows everything of the comings and goings of merchants there.

Baensyng: Ye found yer way to 'Awkers' Alley, friend. ...Hm? A Qiqirn what worked at the Druthers? Aye, ye speak of Teteroon. Baensyng: Related to that Kyokyoroon bloke just o'er there by some blood or another. Two of 'em put in together an' were makin' good coin. But ol' Teteroon up an' left Limsa not long ago. Couldn't say as to why or where. Baensyng: Yer better off askin' Kyokyoroon himself. He can be tight of lip, though, I warn ye. Best to take this chicken egg with ye. Li'l bastard loves the bloody things. Baensyng: Heh... Good to hear about ol' Busc, though. Sounds as though he ain't changed a bit. Just like him to send a 'venturer along. Too shy to come his own self. Gods, I miss drinkin' with that fool.

Kyokyoroon: Customer, be welcome! Not customer? Not come with custom? Kyokyoroon busy with business. Too busy for blather.

Fresh Chicken Egg If one were so inclined, the freshness of this egg could be checked by placing it in a container of water. Were it to lay on its side, it is almost certainly fresh. Should the egg float, however, it may be possessed by a voidsent and should be smashed with extreme prejudice.

Kyokyoroon: Chicken egg! Kyokyoroon love chicken egg! Love chicken egg more than love customer! Kyokyoroon: Looking for Teteroon? Teteroon no here no more. Teteroon leave Limsa. Teteroon go look for sparklies. Kyokyoroon: Now working at trading post. Good trading post. Forget where trading post is. Kyokyoroon: Wineburg know Teteroon. Wineburg know trading post. Wineburg at ferry docks. You go to ferry docks. Kyokyoroon: Kyokyoroon forget things. Wineburg remember things. You talk to Wineburg, not Kyokyoroon.

Wineburg: Teteroon? Aye, I seen him. That is to say, I saw him. Wineburg: He was headed somewhere up north, by way of the ferry to Aleport. Might as well head there and see what ye can suss out. The skipper here can take you there. Wineburg: When ye arrive, I'd start by askin' Ahldfoet. He's an old hand what knows a great deal about a great many things.

Ahldfoet: Teteroon? Aye, I saw him. That is to say, I seen him. Ahldfoet: He took himself north, through Skull Valley, into Oakwood. Was lookin' for a place run by his fellow Qiqirn. Ahldfoet: I reckon he meant the one right on the shore of Bronze Lake─Memeroon's Trading Post. Follow the road and yer sure to find it.

Teteroon: Customer, be welcome! Not customer? Not come with custom? Bring something for Teteroon?

Scarlet Earring A weathered brass earring fitted with a polished scarlet stone. A favorite of the forgetful Qiqirn Teteroon.

Teteroon: Teteroon forget this! Forget at Druthers. Teteroon swore would never forget earring...but never forget forgot. Teteroon thank! Teteroon thank! Teteroon: Good Buscaroon doing good? Good Buscaroon good to Teteroon. Teteroon miss good Buscaroon... <sigh>

Microbrewing Teteroon has places for you to go and thingies for you to get.

Teteroon: Good Buscaroon help Teteroon. Teteroon dead without good Buscaroon. Must give thankies. Many, many thankies. Teteroon make Qiqirn firewater for Buscaroon! Buscaroon love firewater! Teteroon: You help Teteroon make firewater? Need thingies to make. Need many, many thingies. Teteroon: Need coeurl pup whiskers. Need three good coeurl pup whiskers.

Teteroon: Teteroon make firewater for Buscaroon. You bring thingies Teteroon need?

Coeurl Pup Whisker It takes almost a full year for a coeurl to grow its first whiskers. It took less than a minute to remove it.

Teteroon: You brought all thingies! Teteroon make firewater now. Make good firewater for good Buscaroon. Teteroon: Teteroon start making firewater now. Good firewater take time. More time, more good. You come back later.

Like Fine Wine Teteroon appears to have finished his gift for Buscarron.

Teteroon: Teteroon make firewater! Good, good firewater! You take to Buscaroon. Good firewater for good Buscaroon. Teteroon: Tell Buscaroon no drink now. Tell put away one year. One year make best flavor. Teteroon: <sigh> Teteroon hopes Buscaroon happy. Teteroon gives Buscaroon thankies. Many, many thankies. You tell Buscaroon. Teteroon: Teteroon make big shop someday. Biggest shop in Eorzea. Make many, many sparklies. All thanks to good Buscaroon.

Buscarron: Ah, you've returned. Thank you for seeing Teteroon's belongings to him. ...What's this? For me?

Qiqirn Firewater A foul brew that is made by tossing various items found in the wild (both live and dead) into a barrel of water and letting the concoction ferment for a sennight under the warm sun.

Buscarron: Qiqirn firewater! So he remembers my fondness for the drink, does he? Why that old... He... I... Aw, bloody hells! Who's cutting onions back there!? Buscarron: He says to shelve it for a year, does he? Aye, that sounds about right. I hate to have to wait, but I reckon it'll be worth it. This stuff has an aroma and body unlike any other drink I know. Buscarron: It's going to be a looong year. What say you come back then, friend? We'll see if we can't make it through this bottle together.

Sylphish Concerns If Buscarron had his druthers, he'd have an adventurer with whom to share talk of sylphs.

Buscarron: There was word while you were away. Sylphs were seen in the wood, but near no lands of their own. No, this was a place near to here─a place we've never known a sylph to come. Buscarron: Something must have given them cause to venture this far. More than like, the missing sylph elder's among them. Here, I've marked the tract where they were sighted on your map. Go see if there's anything to be seen.

Buscarron: So, was there aught to be found in the wood? What did you come to─ ...Garleans!? In this part of the Twelveswood!? Buscarron: Hmmm... First sylphs and now Garleans, and all in the same place. It cannot be mere coincidence. Might the Garleans be following the sylphs? Tracking them or giving chase, mayhap? Buscarron: But no, not this far into the forest. The Wailers' spires are everywhere. Imperials could never have stolen past them all. How in the bloody hells could they─ Unless... Buscarron: Unless someone guided them through. Someone who knew where the spires stand, and when the Wailers watch. A Gridanian traitor.

Nouveau Riche Buscarron has more work for a willing adventurer.

Buscarron: I'm glad you've come, friend. There's something I want to talk to you about. You know I said I thought we might have a traitor in our midst─someone as was aiding the Garleans? Well, I'm thinking I may have identified our suspect. Buscarron: There's a regular of mine who used to dine on thin soup, and sip his pint on account of not being able to afford another. But of late, he's taken to ordering my best wines and the finest cuts of meat I can lay my hands on. Buscarron: Were he a merchant, I'd prob'ly think nothing of it, but this lad's a Wood Wailer. Buscarron: ...And Wood Wailers don't earn that kind of coin. By chance, I was musing on where the money was coming from when you first told me about the Garleans in the forest, and I couldn't help putting two and two together. Buscarron: Suffice it to say, if a Wailer's working for the Empire, none of us is safe. Buscarron: The lad I'm talking about goes by the name of Laurentius. Last I heard, he was in the South Shroud. Find him, Forename, and if he is up to no good, put an end to it─and him, if it comes to that.

Laurentius: Can you not see I am on patrol? Be gone. If you have business with the Wailers, take it to the Barracks.

Laurentius: Not long now... Hmph. To think patrol routes and rations would fetch such a price... Laurentius: No more than I deserve, though. 'Tis little wonder the Empire has risen to such heights. If only the Wailers paid men their worth... Laurentius: Y-You! What did you─? How long have you─? Help. Help! Heeelp! Laurentius: Please! Come quick, my friends! It is I, Laurentius! I am under attack!

Laurentius: How...? How did you...? You just... I-I know nothing! I was on patrol. He just appeared! I...I thought you were working for the Garleans!

Laurentius: How long do you mean to keep this up? What is it you imagine I've done? Enough! Enough, I say! Laurentius: It's... It's over, then. Aye, I sold maps and rations to the Empire. It was I. I meant no harm. I only wanted the coin. Laurentius: The Wailers are good. Strong. I was proud to join their ranks. Am proud. But... They do not provide. They preach justice, honor, duty. But in the end, it is those with money who do as they will. Who live as they will. Laurentius: ...So I sought an opportunity to change my fortunes, and took it. All I've done, I've done for money. Endangered myself, my home, everything and everyone I love... Why, my actions have put your life in danger, too... Laurentius: ...Though you do not yet realize how much. Heh heh heh! Bloody idiot─did you imagine that you had cornered me? It is not I who is cornered. Laurentius: Garleans! I've brought the Miqo'te bitch! Laurentius: Permit me a question, if you will. Are all adventurers so deluded as to believe they can challenge the power of Garlemald? Laurentius: You would need a veritable mountain of gil to fund such an endeavor! Such is the cost of fighting great power. Or of making it. Or of remaking it, as we will Gridania. Redbelly Gutter: So that's the way of it. Swapped your hard bunk at the Barracks for a feather bed in Garlemald, did ye? <spit> Redbelly Gutter: You there, Miqo'te. You stand here at ol' Busc's wish, no? Then you don't stand alone.

Legless Laurentius: You mean to stand against the might of the Empire with this Redbelly rabble at your side? Hah! Redbelly Gutter: Your eyes betray your words, coward. You know full well the Wailers fear the Wasps' sting. 3rd Cohort Decurion: After these trees drink your blood, I will see to it they are cut down and burned. Legless Laurentius: Show them what happens to those who oppose the Empire! Coeurlclaw Hunter: If this is a fight Buscarron wants won, then the Coeurlclaws will fight it. Legless Laurentius: How? Why!? You scum have no allegiances! 3rd Cohort Decurion: So, this is to be my end... Legless Laurentius: How...? How has it come to this?

Laurentius: Impossible... How did you best the Empire's finest? And with bandits and poachers at your side!? They are your sworn enemies! Why do they fight with you and not against you!? Laurentius: ...Ah, but I know the answer only too well. Buscarron. This is his doing. His words are wont to inspire men to act. Better men than I... Gods, what have I become? What have I done? Laurentius: I... I am sorry. No more will I pursue this folly. No more lies. No more bribes. I will go to the Order of the Twin Adder and confess my crimes. Laurentius: There is something I would like you to tell Buscarron. Tell him Laurentius the fool says “thank you.” I feel as though a veil has been lifted from before my eyes.

Buscarron: Aye, Laurentius confessed to his crimes. I just had word from the Twin Adder. Seems he marched straight into the Nest and gave himself up. Buscarron: The lad's had quite a life, you know... His mother was killed by a brigand when he was only small. As a young man, he joined the Wailers, hoping to spare his fellow Gridanians the misery he'd known growing up. Buscarron: Trouble is, protecting Gridania's too big a job for one man, and he came to believe that he couldn't make a difference─that it was hopeless. Buscarron: There are few things more dangerous than desperation, and a man lost in the dark is easily drawn to the glimmer of coin. I reckon he thought that if he couldn't change the lot of his fellow man, he might as well change his own. Thing is, he was making a difference─just not on his own. Somehow, he'd failed to grasp one simple truth─that those things we cannot do alone, we must do together. Buscarron: ...Eh? He asked you to thank me, did he? Then there's good in him yet. I just hope them at the Adders' Nest are able to see it... What he's done ain't easy to forgive, but I'd like to think he'd be afforded a chance to make amends. Buscarron: But let us leave fates to the Twelve. I have other news for you, Forename. The sylph elder has been found!

Into the Beast's Maw Buscarron has reliable information regarding the whereabouts of the sylph elder.

Buscarron: It's taken us a fair old while, but we've finally got our hands on some reliable information concerning the whereabouts of your missing green friend. Papalymo: Ahem! His name is Frixio, and he is the eldest amongst the sylphs of Little Solace. Long has he represented his kind in dialogue with the Gridanians. Yda (Lyse): Yes, he's like a bridge between us and them─a small, leafy, green bridge that we can't find at the moment. And bridges are no use if you don't know where they are. That's why it's so important that we find him! Buscarron: There's an abandoned dungeon called the Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak here in the South Shroud. Buscarron: 'Twas by the entrance to the place that Frixio was seen─and not long ago, neither. If you hurry, I reckon you'll find him. Noraxia: Walking ones, please help this one! This one needs help! Needs help to help elder one! Poor Frixio! Poor, poor Frixiooo!!! Buscarron: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hooold your chocobos. Take a deep breath and tell us what's wrong, nice and slow. Noraxia: Elder one went into Toto-Rak, but has not returned! This one is worried, so very worried! Buscarron: And you're right to be... The place fair crawls with nasties waiting to make a meal of anyone daft enough to wander in. Buscarron: What in the seven hells was he thinking, entering that bloody death trap? Noraxia: Elder one had no choice! Imperial ones were chasing elder one! Please! Walking ones must help elder one─help elder one now! Papalymo: Argh! The fates conspire against us... Forgive my pragmatism, but Frixio is our best hope of reaching an accord with the sylphs. Were we to lose him, all our efforts thus far will have been for naught. Papalymo: I will tend to her wounds. Yda, make haste to the Adders' Nest and request assistance. Yda (Lyse): Understood! Papalymo: Forename─go to the Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak and see that Frixio comes to no harm. Peace between man and sylph rests upon your success.

Bloisirant: By order of the Elder Seedseer, the dungeon known as the Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak has been placed under the control of─ Bloisirant: ...What? The sylph elder is inside? And you are sure of this? How in the seven hells did he manage to sneak by? Gods strike me down for a purblind fool! Bloisirant: You must find the sylph elder before he falls prey to the fiends within. Entrance to Toto-Rak is ordinarily restricted, but these are exceptional circumstances. Pray assemble a rescue party, and enter as soon as you are ready.

The Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak

Named after a man-eating creature from ancient Padjali folklore, the Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak was built on the site of a natural cave system beneath Silent Arbor. Until recently, it held all of Gridania's foulest criminals, from arsonists to poachers, but the completion of a new gaol closer to the city heralded its abandonment.

Scion Conjurer: An ill wind blows through here. Let us hurry and be about our business. Scion Marauder: Something feels wrong about this place...

Scion Conjurer: Fear not─I will deal with its poison.

Hydaelyn: Darkness... ??? (Lahabrea): Hahahaha... ??? (Lahabrea): The mighty slayer of Ifrit comes now to me. ??? (Lahabrea): ...With a countenance that bespeaks understanding. ??? (Lahabrea): An intriguing power, the Echo. I must needs choose my words with care. ??? (Lahabrea): Mayhap I might if I deign to speak in my guest's crude tongue. We meet at last. Lahabrea: I am Lahabrea of the Ascians, servant to the one true god. Lahabrea: Yours is a most fantastical tale. Truly absorbing. Lahabrea: It is a tale to tell Eorzea's children before bedtime. And it will soon be dark, Bringer of Light. Hydaelyn: ...The Dark Minions... Lahabrea: All that stands between this world and Darkness is an irksome anomaly in the aether─the Echo. Lahabrea: Yes...yours is a most fascinating tale. Lahabrea: Alas, like all good tales, it must needs come to an end. But fear not... Hydaelyn: Hear.. Feel... The presence... of evil... Lahabrea: For the end of your tale is but the beginning of another... The tale of the Crystal's demise!

Scion Thaumaturge: That tail looks like trouble.

??? (Frixio): <gasp> Finally, fresh air! ??? (Frixio): <sniff> <sniff> Mayhap not so fresh...but better than before. ??? (Frixio): Ah, sinister one is gone! This one can leave this awful place! ??? (Frixio): Hm? Did walking one vanquish the many-legged one? This one is grateful to walking one! Frixio: This one is called Frixio, eldest of these ones of Little Solace.

Imperial Herald: Alpha squad reporting, sir! Nothing of note at Larkscall, sir! Imperial Centurion: Understood. Return to area twelve. Damn it all...where is that accursed eikon hiding? Nero tol Scaeva: No sign of our wizened friend? Imperial Centurion: I'm afraid not, my lord. Shall I order that the search perimeter be expanded? Nero tol Scaeva: Absolutely not. We risk alerting the Gridanians to our presence. His Excellency bid us avoid unnecessary confrontation. Nero tol Scaeva: Loath though I am to admit it, I have found no evidence to suggest that Ramuh will be gracing the mortal realm in the near future. Nero tol Scaeva: I ask you...what good is a god who does not grant one's wishes? Were I a sylph, I should strongly consider finding myself another idol. Nero tol Scaeva: Which reminds me─what of the sylphs we captured? A handful of them seemed to be in reasonably good health when last I looked. Imperial Centurion: Ah. A-Apologies, my lord. I fear we may have been...overzealous in our efforts to compel them to summon their eikon. Nero tol Scaeva: <sigh> ...Really, Centurion─were you not aware that vegetables bruise easily? It is well that I did not entrust you with the important task of making my dinner. Nero tol Scaeva: Well, mayhap it was a kindness. Better dead in truth than dead to one's own god, I suppose...if you believe in such things. Nero tol Scaeva: Dawn is upon us. Make ready to withdraw. Nero tol Scaeva: Hmph, useless... Nero tol Scaeva: We are so close to completion, I can fair taste it, but at this rate... Nero tol Scaeva: No, I must be patient. Our efforts will bear fruit in due time. Nero tol Scaeva: ...What was it you always said? Ah, yes: “Though it mean bringing down the very heavens, who shall challenge the limits of possibility if not we?” In that alone were you right...Garlond. Nero tol Scaeva: But your star is long fallen, while mine doth begin to rise. Nero tol Scaeva: And it shall burn so bright─so bright that Lord van Baelsar's ultimate weapon will seem a mere candle beside it! Ahahahaha! Noraxia: Those walking ones did for Noxia! This one is certain of it! Frixio: This one fears that other taken ones also suffered the same fate... Noraxia: This one is convinced! Walking ones have black hearts, seek only to harm these ones! Walking ones are not to be trusted! Frixio: Now, now, Noraxia...do not pass judgment too hastily. Not all walking ones are alike. Though there are evil ones among the walking ones, there are good ones also.

Frixio: Hm? Does walking one feel unwell? Frixio: This one would know, what brings walking one to this place? Frixio: Came to this one's rescue at Noraxia's bidding? Then this one owes walking one a debt of gratitude! Frixio: Hm? Walking one has questions about Lord Ramuh? Then this one will provide answers. Frixio: But first, let these ones quit this lightless place. Frixio: This one will return to Little Solace. When walking one is ready, please come and see this one. These ones may speak properly then. Frixio: Then it is settled! Let this one accompany walking one outside!

Buscarron: Ah, you're back! Tell me the sylph elder is well! Buscarron: ...Thank the gods for that! I don't rightly know what to make of the rest of your tale, but I'm full glad Frixio didn't come to any harm. Buscarron: Ah, but there I go tempting fate. Run over to Little Solace and secure us peace with the sylphs before aught else befalls us, eh? Rest assured, I'll send word to our friends of Sharlayan and the Twin Adder both. Buscarron: You've done Gridania a great service this day, lass─and earned yourself a place of honor here at the Druthers in so doing. Be sure and come by whenever you feel like a drop of Qiqirn firewater!

A Simple Gift Buscarron has something he wants delivered to the sylphs.

Buscarron: Say, friend, there's something I'd like to ask you to see delivered to the sylphs of Little Solace─this Azeyma rose oil. Buscarron: It's a gift to celebrate the safe return of their tribe's elder─and a token of Gridania's desire to unite. Buscarron: The wood is not what it once was. The Calamity changed the elementals─weakened them. Until their strength is returned, we must lend them ours to keep the wood safe. But ours alone will not be enough. We must have the strength of the sylphs, as well. Buscarron: Only by working together and fighting together will we survive together─and the Twelveswood with us. The gift I ask you to bear is a symbol of the hope that both Gridanian and sylph alike will live to see the light beyond this darkness.

Knolexia: A gift from walking one Buscarron? A gift for these ones?

Azeyma Rose Oil A fragrant oil pressed from freshly harvested Azeyma rose hips.

Knolexia: Such a lovely scent! This one has never smelled anything like this before! Knolexia: Walking one Buscarron and adventuring one are very kind. Know that this one is deeply grateful. Knolexia: Many walking ones are scary. Many walking ones utter many lies and much deception. But this one is moved. Let all these ones be friends forever!

Believe in Your Sylph Komuxio wants you to discuss peace with Frixio.

Komuxio: This one has been expecting walking one! This one fetches elder one! Frixio: This one is pleased to see walking one again. Welcome to the home of these ones. Papalymo: Ah, there you are, Forename. We have just been hearing tell of your deeds of derring-do. Well done! Frixio: Ah, the walking ones who aided Noraxia! This one is grateful! Papalymo: A pleasure to have been of service. If you do not mind my asking, how did your misadventure come about? Frixio: This one does not mind. The misadventures, as walking one calls them, of this one began when imperial ones entered the wood. Fearing trouble, these ones decided to watch imperial ones closely. Frixio: But these ones watched too closely, and imperial ones noticed and tried to catch these ones. Frixio: Having nowhere else to hide, this one fled into Toto-Rak. Would that this one had not. In Toto-Rak, a sinister one robed in black tried to feed this one to a many-legged one! Yda (Lyse): A sinister one robed in black...? Why do I have the feeling I should be more worried about that than I am? Papalymo: Elder Frixio, we come to you as emissaries of the nation of Gridania. This missive bears the words of the Elder Seedseer. Frixio: This one sees... So walking ones of Gridania are fearful of Lord Ramuh. Papalymo: Plainly put, yes. Your people summoned the Lord of Levin but once, yet that single occurrence occasioned great alarm. Yda (Lyse): But it's not as if the Gridanians dislike you or anything. Actually, it's just the opposite. They think of you as friends, and they don't want anything to get in the way of that. That's why the Elder Seedseer wrote to you. Frixio: Hmmm... This one well knows and respects horned one Kan-E-Senna. Be assured: like walking ones of Gridania, these ones have no desire for conflict. Frixio: These ones resorted to summoning Lord Ramuh to protect the wood from imperial ones. This one counseled against doing so, but was not heeded. Frixio: Against this one's wishes, Lord Ramuh was summoned...and all those ones who took part became touched ones. Frixio: These ones want so desperately to turn touched ones back to normal ones, but did not know how─and still do not know. Frixio: Touched ones, meanwhile, wanted to turn these ones into touched ones, and did know how... So this one fled to Little Solace with all those ones who did not wish to be bound to Lord Ramuh. Frixio: But walking ones of Gridania need not fear touched ones or Lord Ramuh. Unlike other primal ones, Lord Ramuh is not callous and cruel. Frixio: So long as walking ones do not trespass on these ones' ancestral homeland, where touched ones reside, walking ones will not suffer thunderous judgment. Frixio: But this one has spoken enough of touched ones. This one would speak instead of these ones. As this one said, these ones desire peace with walking ones of Gridania. And so these ones ask for a chance to set things right. Papalymo: By way of an addendum, mortals who are tempered come to take on the qualities embodied by the primal in question. In the case of the sylphs, Ramuh's influence has made them fiercely protective of their homeland. Yda (Lyse): That explains why they're so hostile towards trespassers, but what about the abductions? Papalymo: A fine question, Yda! The abductions are, I believe, an expression of the tempered sylphs' desire for reconciliation─another quality traditionally associated with Ramuh. In the crudest manner imaginable, they seek to bring their fellows back into the fold. A timely reminder that the challenges posed by each primal are unique. Papalymo: Elder Frixio, we thank you for making your will known to us. The people of Gridania will rest easier in the knowledge that they and the sylphs are united in their desire for peace. Frixio: Wishing to cooperate, this one has written down the feelings of these ones. Please see that these feelings are conveyed to horned one Kan-E-Senna. Papalymo: And with that, I believe we can lay the matter of Ramuh to rest. Yda (Lyse): That sylph elder's very reasonable, I must say. You could learn a lot from him. Papalymo: ...Hm!? Was that a jibe? If so, I feel it only fair to observe that one of us wouldn't recognize reason if it punched her on the nose. Did I say fair? I meant: reasonable. Yda (Lyse): Anyway, we're going to head back to the Waking Sands and tell Minfilia all about it. Papalymo: Fear not─we will be sure to mention the instrumental part you played in all of this. And while we see to that, we should appreciate it if you would deliver Frixio's missive to the Adders' Nest. Papalymo: Elder Frixio, we humbly thank you for your time. It has been an honor. Frixio: The honor is this one's. Together, let the walking ones of Gridania and these ones find a way to live in peace. Frixio: Please wait, walking one Forename. Frixio: This one has yet to give walking one a token of this one's appreciation. Frixio: When these ones summoned Lord Ramuh, these ones were gifted this crystal. This one would now bestow the crystal upon walking one as a symbol of these ones' trust. Frixio: <gasp> This one was not mistaken about walking one. Frixio: Walking one is destined to walk a fate far crueler than this one can imagine. Frixio: A brilliant light from within walking one enveloped the crystal─this one saw. Frixio: Mark this one well: that crystal will one day be of use to walking one. Walking one must keep that crystal safe at all times. Komuxio: Before walking one returns to Gridania, this one would ask walking one to watch touched ones. Komuxio: So long as touched ones are not troubled, touched ones will not make trouble. Komuxio: If walking one witnesses touched ones making no trouble, mayhap walking one can testify to walking ones of Gridania that these ones mean no harm. Komuxio: These ones' homeland is fraught with danger. This one marks down safe places to look out for touched ones.

There are tempered sylphs in the distance. You do not sense that they pose a danger if left alone.

Vorsaile Heuloix: Ah, if it isn't Forename. How went the meeting with the sylphs?

Letter from the Elder The fluid lettering of Little Solace elder Frixio is as beautiful as it is unintelligible.

Vorsaile Heuloix: A missive from the sylph elder himself!? If I may... Vorsaile Heuloix: So the sylphs have no desire for conflict, nor do they intend to summon Ramuh. Vorsaile Heuloix: And so long as we leave the tempered ones be, we need not fear any aggression on their part. Vorsaile Heuloix: The Elder Seedseer will be overjoyed to hear that the sylphs have welcomed our overtures. And in the knowledge that they bear us no ill will, we may channel our resources towards tackling the more conspicuous threats to our security. Vorsaile Heuloix: You have done this nation a great service, my friend. On behalf of all Gridanians, I give you my thanks.

Back from the Wood Commander Heuloix appears to have more to say.

Vorsaile Heuloix: The sylphic folk have long been friends to Gridania. The mere thought of being at war with them pained the Elder Seedseer to no end. Vorsaile Heuloix: But owing to your efforts, she will be able to rest easier. Being the benevolent soul that she is, my lady will surely try to find a way to reverse the tempering process. Vorsaile Heuloix: Once again, I thank you. Had the Scions of the Seventh Dawn not offered to mediate between our peoples, suspicion and doubt may well have led us into needless conflict. Pray pass on my regards to Lady Minfilia. Minfilia: ...Hello? Hello, Forename? Can you hear me? It is I, Minfilia. Minfilia: Yda and Papalymo returned some little while ago. And they wasted no time in regaling me with the tale of your exploits. Minfilia: Thanks in large part to you, the name of one primal may be struck from our list of enemies, and the Gridanians may turn their attention to more pressing matters. Well done! Minfilia: Yet the end of one tale is but the start of another. Pray return to the Waking Sands at your earliest convenience. I would apprise you of the present situation in person.

Tataru: Well, if it isn't my favorite adventurer! Welcome back, Forename! Tataru: Lady Minfilia awaits you within the solar. Please enter at your leisure.

Alphinaud: I am given to understand that the matter of Ramuh has finally been resolved. Minfilia: Hm. I fear “resolved” bespeaks a permanence we cannot rightly claim. Yet I am well satisfied that the Lord of Levin will not trouble us in the foreseeable future. Alphinaud: Your satisfaction is assurance enough for me. Minfilia: How fares the investigation? Alphinaud: Well enough. Thancred is sparing no effort. Alphinaud: They are many and one, just as you suspected. Their purpose, however, eludes us still. Minfilia: I see. Minfilia: Ah, I have been meaning to ask, but is Alisaie quite well? I feel as if I have scarcely seen her in recent days. Alphinaud: Oh, you haven't─and nor have I, alas. Alisaie has chosen to walk her own path─stubborn girl─but you may be assured that our destination remains the same. Alphinaud: And on that note, I take my leave of you. I trust the Baldesion report will serve you well. Minfilia: I take it we can proceed as discussed? Alphinaud: Why do you ask? You scarce need my permission to act. Minfilia: It is good to see you again, Forename! Minfilia: I have been looking forward to congratulating you on your triumph in the Twelveswood. Owing to your efforts, conflict has been averted. Truly, you have done the Scions proud. Papalymo: With that, we can strike Ramuh from the list. Yda (Lyse): So who's next? The Sahagin and Leviathan? Papalymo: The Lord of the Whorl has not answered his minions' call of late, nor is he expected to do so in the near future. Papalymo: While the Sahagin remain as aggressive as ever, they lack the quantity of crystals required to call forth their god. As with the sylphs, we can leave them to their own devices...for a time, at least. Y'shtola: “For a time” bears repeating. We can ill afford to fall complacent. Papalymo: It is as Y'shtola says. Unless we know the minds of the beast tribes, we cannot predict with any certainty when next a primal will return to plague the land. Papalymo: This being the case, we must proceed with as much haste as prudence allows. Yda (Lyse): Any word on Titan? Y'shtola: The Maelstrom keeps the kobolds under constant observation. Y'shtola: We shall hear from them ere long, you may depend upon it. Papalymo: Indeed. So, then─of all the known primals that have been active in recent times, we are left with... Yda (Lyse): Gridania! Wait, I meant Garuda─who is the primal of the Ixal who live near Gridania. Yes, that's what I meant. Minfilia: So many malms to cover... Would that there were a more efficient way to conduct our surveys. Minfilia: Were he still with us, we should not long have wanted for a more practicable solution... Biggs: She's not wrong there... <sigh> Where in the world are you, Chief? Minfilia: ...But one sure step at a time! Minfilia: Henceforth, the Order of the Twin Adder will handle all matters pertaining to the sylphs, under the sage guidance of the Seedseers. Minfilia: I bid you all enjoy a moment's respite. You have earned it! Minfilia: Is there something else, Forename? Minfilia: Beg pardon? A man named Lahabrea, sporting a red mask and robed in black...? Twelve preserve... Minfilia: Prior to the Calamity, the Ascians took great pains to remain hidden... Why would they choose to cast off their veil of secrecy now? Gods, this bodes ill... Minfilia: We must take advantage of the present lull in primal hostilities and investigate this Lahabrea─learn all we can of him and his designs. I dread to thi─ Tataru: EEEEEEK! Minfilia: Tataru! Minfilia: A sylph...in Thanalan? Noraxia: At long last, this one finds walking one Forename! Noraxia: This one is most dependable of these ones! Is sent by elder one Frixio to help walking ones! Noraxia: This one is called Noraxia. This one comes as a friend. Let these ones be friends! Tataru: P-Pleasure to meet you...Noraxia.

Minfilia: Yes, Tataru is as ready to express her fright as she is to express...everything else! Not all of us are forged of the same steel as you, I'm afraid. Minfilia: But it takes all kinds to make a family, and it pleases me to no end to see ours continue to grow. One by one, the people of Eorzea are beginning to unite, Forename, drawn to the hope that shines within you. Minfilia: Yet a darkness threatens to engulf this light. Never have I doubted the Ascians' presence, but that they have grown so brazen as to carry out their work in plain sight fills me with a sense of deep foreboding.

Shadow of Darkness Minfilia would have you investigate the mysterious Lahabrea.

Minfilia: I am afraid there is no rest for the weary, Forename. We must delve further into the motivations of the masked man─the Ascian known as Lahabrea. This is an ideal moment to do so, while our hands are not bound dealing with another primal. Minfilia: At present, we know little and less about the Ascians─only that destruction follows in their wake. Minfilia: I should not be surprised if these beings are behind the chaos that racks the realm. If my fears prove to be reality, we must do all in our power to stop them. Minfilia: Earlier, I sent word to each Grand Company to solicit cooperation. The Immortal Flames responded to the effect that they have information on a potential sighting. Minfilia: This is intelligence that we can ill afford to ignore. Go speak with Flame Commander Swift at the Hall of Flames in Ul'dah to inquire further. How you go about the investigation thereafter, I leave wholly to your discretion. Minfilia: But whatever you do, never forget that we are dealing with the unknown. You cannot take too many precautions. Be safe, Forename.

Swift: The masked man? Ah, you are come on behalf of the Scions, of course. Yes, as we've already relayed to Lady Minfilia, there has been a sighting of this rogue near about eastern Thanalan. Swift: A Brass Blade stationed at Highbridge described him in detail when he alerted us to suspicious activity. I would point you to the witness, but I'm afraid he died not two days ago, slain by a marauding horde of Qiqirn. Fate can be a cruel mistress. Swift: But do not be too quick to despair. Being situated on a trade route, Highbridge sees its fair share of travelers. Folk are always coming and going, and some among them may well have caught a glimpse of your target. Swift: You could do worse than to speak with a merchant named Hihibaru. The fellow's always starved for customers, and he'd no doubt welcome your attention, whether or not you have coin or the mind to spend it.

Hihibaru: Welcome to Highbridge, adventurer! Whatever you seek, I, Hihibaru, can provide it. ...Probably! Hihibaru: You're after a masked man? Hmmm, I'm not sure I have one of those in stock... Hihibaru: Ohhh, you're after a masked man! Why didn't you say so sooner? Such an individual might have featured in one of the many rumors I've heard. If you linger awhile, mayhap you'll learn a thing or two, eh?

Highbridge Times Hihibaru wants to help you find Lahabrea...maybe.

Hihibaru: When the Order of Nald'thal began excavating the ruins below, I had hopes that Highbridge would turn into a bustling hub for pilgrims. But thanks to the nigh-endless beastman raids, folk are too afraid to come within a malm of here. Hihibaru: I sold everything I owned to get my venture started, and I'm loath to give up without making an earnest effort to stick it out. But if things keep going as they are, I'll be bankrupt before the moon is through... Hihibaru: Whining won't do me any good, though. No, for my business to survive, I need business. Speaking of which, perhaps you'd like to browse my wares! Spend a bit of coin to help a struggling merchant! Hihibaru: ...The masked man? Bah, Thal take your bloody masked man! I know what I said before, but vague rumors are all I've got. If you want to know about him, go and ask the other merchants!

Multiloquent Merchant: Aye, I've heard tell of the masked devil. Seems he's been appearing not only around Highbridge, but elsewhere about Thanalan, too. Multiloquent Merchant: Enough folk have reported seeing him to convince me he's more than a figment of the imagination, but little is known about him otherwise.

Absent-minded Merchant: On the trail of a masked man? Aye, I've heard of him...but only in hushed tones and faint whispers. Absent-minded Merchant: It's said he wears a black hooded robe, an' looks right suspicious. An' that's about all I can say, little though it is.

Impassive Merchant: Have I seen a masked man wearing a dark robe? No, I haven't, nor do I wish to. Business is bad enough without shady characters lurking about. Impassive Merchant: Folk have been giving Highbridge a wide berth because of all the Qiqirn raids. None but the most devout of pilgrims are willing to come here anymore.

Hihibaru: Judging by your expression, I take it you didn't learn much of use. Hihibaru: Look, I'm sorry for my rudeness earlier. It's just that things are tough for us merchants at the moment. The Qiqirn raids are so constant, so organized, we're beginning to suspect that someone is orchestrating it all. Hihibaru: I tend to put my own welfare first, like most of us do, but that doesn't mean I'm a bad person. I promise to keep an eye out for your masked man. If I see or hear anything, you'll be the first to know.

Where There Is Smoke Hihibaru has information that will surely lead you to Lahabrea.

Hihibaru: I've finally got some honest-to-gods information on your masked man! Why so confident? Because I saw him with my own two eyes! Hihibaru: I was out for an evening stroll, minding my own business, when I noticed a column of smoke rising from a cliff over at Thal's Respite. Curious, I took myself there to find a masked man─your masked man, I'm sure of it─standing by a fire. Hihibaru: As if in answer, some Qiqirn appeared soon after, and the group began talking at length. I'm afraid I was too far out of earshot to hear much of anything. Hihibaru: After the group had dispersed, an idea came to me: if you were to use this smoldering coal to start a fire, you might be able to arrange a similar meeting. It will be dangerous, I shouldn't doubt, but you've proven yourself more than a match for a pack of rats. Hihibaru: So, what do you think? That's some sound, reliable information, even if I do say so myself. Well worth all the lingering about you've been doing, wouldn't you say?

Smoldering Coal A red-hot piece of carbonized wood that, when placed on wet wood or leaves, will create a billowing tower of smoke that can be seen for malms.

Hihibaru: Back so soon? Were you able to find any clues leading to your masked man?

Ward of the Destroyer A paper ward inscribed with a prayer to the patron deity of Ala Mhigo, Rhalgr.

Hihibaru: <gasp> Th-This scroll! It bears a prayer to Rhalgr, the Destroyer! Hihibaru: In case you're unfamiliar, Rhalgr is the guardian deity of Ala Mhigo, which is currently under Garlean rule. Hihibaru: It's highly uncommon for folk of other nations to revere Him. I'd wager my last gil that your assailant was Ala Mhigan. Hihibaru: It seems this masked man of yours is very well connected. I must confess, the merchant in me envies such a diverse network of contacts. Hihibaru: That selfsame merchant also senses danger ahead...and darkness besides. Are you certain you'd rather not take things nice and slow here at Highbridge?

On to Little Ala Mhigo Hihibaru has a suggestion to help you with your investigation.

Hihibaru: The Ala Mhigan bandit you had a run-in with is somehow connected to your masked man of mystery. Hihibaru: So, it stands to reason that if you want to pick up the trail again, you should head toward Little Ala Mhigo, over in southern Thanalan. Hihibaru: Just so you know what to expect, the settlement is the favored destination for those refugees who couldn't...well, adapt to life in Ul'dah. Hihibaru: The hearts of the denizens are said to be as barren as the wasteland they live in. And for all intents and purposes, it's a lawless place. Be prepared for a not-so-warm welcome. Hihibaru: Now, I'm not certain how much a help she will be, but it just so happens I have a daughter who has, er...relocated to Little Ala Mhigo. Her name is Hihira, and it shouldn't hurt to seek her out first. Hihibaru: And while you have her attention...I'd be obliged if you could send my love. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her. Hihibaru: I suppose this is it, then! I had hoped that you would linger here a while─cull some fiends, spend some coin, what have you─but something tells me you're destined for greater things. Wherever it is you end up, I wish you the best!

Hihira: ...Hm? Why, yes, Hihibaru's my father... He said what? <sigh> I wish I could be a better daughter to him. It's just that─ Oh, I'm sorry... I shouldn't bother you with family matters. But I am grateful to you for delivering the message. Now then, what brings you here? Hihira: A masked man? I'm afraid the description doesn't ring any bells, but one of the others here may have seen something. I would recommend you first speak with Gundobald, the leader of the settlement. I must warn you, though, he isn't exactly...accommodating to outsiders.

Gundobald: Who are you? State your business, and be quick about it. Gundobald: Looking for a masked villain, you say? And why should we help you, pray? Gundobald: We struggle enough without having to answer the whim of every outsider. Gundobald: You are not welcome here. Begone.

Tea for Three Gisilbehrt would like to aid in your manhunt.

Gisilbehrt: Well met, adventurer. I'm Gisilbehrt, head of security here at Little Ala Mhigo. I heard tell that you had business with Gundobald. Knowing the bristly old bear, I don't doubt he told you to bugger off. Gisilbehrt: Owing to their hardships, the refugees don't trust anyone but themselves. Not even my men and I can get so much as a word of thanks out of them despite watching the place day and night. Gisilbehrt: But thanks or no, I try to help my fellow man when I can, and you seem a decent sort. If you tell me what's brought you here, might be as I can lend a hand. Gisilbehrt: ...On the trail of a masked villain, you say? Hmmm, can't say that sounds familiar, but I have men on lookout for Amalj'aa to the south of here. If there's been any suspicious activity, they are like to have seen it. Gisilbehrt: I had a mind to take them each a cup of sweet Thanalan tea so as to lift their spirits. If you were to run this little errand in my stead, they'd be all the more willing to tell you what they know.

Osric: Who the hells're you? I'm tryin' to conserve energy here, so leave me alone.

Sweet Thanalan Tea A piping hot infusion of freshly picked young Thanalan tea leaves mixed with rich aldgoat cream and a generous spoonful of golden cactuar flower honey.

Osric: Well, ain't ye considerate! My thanks, friend! ...What's that? A masked villain? Hidin' among the refugees, like as not. Osric: Me compatriots as live here go about as though they're dead on their feet. 'Tis near impossible to tell what's on their minds. For all I know, they're all up to no good.

Angry River: You there! Are you an Amalj'aa? No? Then carry on!

Sweet Thanalan Tea A piping hot infusion of freshly picked young Thanalan tea leaves mixed with rich aldgoat cream and a generous spoonful of golden cactuar flower honey.

Angry River: Ahhh, this sophisticated aroma! It has been forever since I had a drop of sweet Thanalan! I'm going to enjoy this! Angry River: What? A masked man? Don't know, don't care! Unless he's got dark scaly skin, stands ten fulms tall, and has the face of a lizard, then I don't give a mummer's fart!

Yayazuku: Shoo, shoo! Don't bother me! If the Amalj'aa overrun us, I'm blaming you!

Sweet Thanalan Tea A piping hot infusion of freshly picked young Thanalan tea leaves mixed with rich aldgoat cream and a generous spoonful of golden cactuar flower honey.

Yayazuku: For me? You shouldn't have! ...Sorry? A suspicious masked man? As a matter of fact, I caught glimpse of someone fitting that description during patrol. Yayazuku: Well, I couldn't quite make out whether it was a man or not, what with the mask and the robe. But assuming it was a he, he was talking with some Ala Mhigans. I assumed he was one of them.

Gisilbehrt: Ah, you're back. So, did my lookouts have aught to share with you? ...Hmmm, that doesn't sound like much to go by. Gisilbehrt: If you're to get any further in your investigation, seems to me you'll need the cooperation of the Ala Mhigans. For this, you'll need to win their trust, and that won't be an easy task.

Foot in the Door Gisilbehrt would offer you some advice regarding your investigation.

Gisilbehrt: So you're determined to press on with your investigation? Then I have some advice to offer. Gisilbehrt: As I said before, you won't get far without the Ala Mhigans' trust. And the best way to win that trust is to get a compatriot of theirs─someone they respect─to vouch for you. Gisilbehrt: Coin does the talking in Ul'dah, but the Ala Mhigans are bound by something far stronger, if not as tangible: a common purpose. That purpose is, of course, the liberation of their home from the Garleans. Gisilbehrt: Gundobald belongs to the Ala Mhigan Resistance, so your best bet would be someone who's part of the same crew. If you know any well-connected people, you might want to start by asking them.

Minfilia: Welcome back, Forename! How fares the investigation? Minfilia: ...I see. Given all that they have suffered, it is of little wonder the Ala Mhigan refugees have lost faith in their fellow man. Minfilia: They have had their homeland taken from them, and for the past two decades have had to see it remain in the enemy's clutches. Minfilia: To compound matters, none of the three city-states have the means to take in all those who were displaced. As a result, a great many Ala Mhigans now live on the margins of society, suffering poverty and discrimination. Minfilia: Would that more could be done to ease their hardships. I fear that nothing short of reclaiming their homeland would be a lasting solution. Minfilia: But let us deal with one problem at a time. Returning to the matter of your investigation, it just so happens there is an Ala Mhigan native among the Scions. I should be pleased to introduce him to you.

Meeting with the Resistance Minfilia wants to introduce you to an Ala Mhigan member of the Scions.

Minfilia: Your Ala Mhigan comrade is named Haribehrt. He joined our cause in the hopes that he might find a way to liberate his homeland. Minfilia: While he spares no effort towards that endeavor, I have no doubt that he would be glad to assist you. Minfilia: If I recall correctly, Haribehrt is currently between missions. Try looking for him in the storage area.

Haribehrt: If it isn't Forename Surname, the Scions' rising star! Is there aught I can do for you? Haribehrt: You wish to win the trust of the people of Little Ala Mhigo! That is a daunting task, my friend, even for our own countrymen. Haribehrt: I would like nothing more than to help, but I'm afraid my name no longer carries weight with that lot. Haribehrt: I used to be a member of the Ala Mhigan Resistance, you see, but I left in favor of joining the Scions. Haribehrt: Though my allegiance may have shifted, my purpose remains ever the same─the liberation of Ala Mhigo. Yet whatever my reasons were, I abandoned my comrades, and they'll have nothing to do with me. Haribehrt: Now, while I may have no more friends in the Resistance, I know someone who does. Her name is Albreda, and she is a resident of Quarrymill. Say my name when you meet her, and she won't lead you astray.

Albreda: Eh? You want me to introduce you to the Resistance? Hah! Why the hells should I do that? Give me just one reason! Albreda: H-Haribehrt sent you!? Grrr, that worthless whoreson... He abandons his comrades─his woman─and now he has the gall to ask me for a favor!? Simply incredible... Albreda: I just... I mean... <sigh> Ugh. I realize Haribehrt was only doing what he felt was right. He's a good man. And if he trusts you, then that's all I need to know. You see that bloke there? That's Meffrid, a captain of the Resistance. I hope he can give you what you need.

Killing Him Softly Meffrid needs help tending a wounded brother.

Meffrid: Aye, I'm Meffrid, a proud man of the Ala Mhigan Resistance. Meffrid: What business do you have with me, adventurer? Resistance Soldier: C-Captain! It's...it's Gallien, sir! His wound's gone an' festered, an' he's burnin' up! I don't think he's got much time! Meffrid: Godsdammit! I asked the villagers for aid─got on my knees and begged─but they refused to lift a finger! If Gallien dies, his blood is on their hands! Meffrid: These Quarrymill cravens would turn a blind eye to our plight, but they might listen to Albreda. I fear my anger will prevent me from rightly convincing anyone at the moment. I realize we scarce know each other, but this is a matter of life and death. Please, adventurer, go to her and try!

Albreda: One of Meffrid's in bad shape, you say? I'm...I'm sorry, but there's naught I can do. Albreda: I want to help, truly I do─they're my countrymen, after all─but that'd mean going against the elementals' will. Albreda: I've been at Quarrymill long enough to know how right terrible the beings can be. I couldn't forgive myself if everyone gets banished because of me. Albreda: If there's anyone who can help you, it'd be Charline, the hamlet's resident Hearer. If you take the matter to her, might be as she'll listen...though I wouldn't get my hopes up.

Charline: You wish to aid the Ala Mhigans? You are possessed of a kind heart, adventurer, but I'm afraid I have not the authority to grant you your wish. Charline: This authority belongs only to the elementals, eternal guardians of the Twelveswood. All outsiders, be they babes at the breast or men grown, are judged of a night whether they may have a place beneath the boughs. Charline: Alas, the Ala Mhigans' petition has been denied. Harsh though it may seem, they do not have leave to receive of the wood's bounty. Ever has it been since time immemorial, and ever shall it be.

Meffrid: That's how it's to be, then!? The bloody Hearer might as well kill Gallien herself! Meffrid: Spit on the elementals and spit on their bloody will! I cannot wait until the Resistance is free of this place!

Helping Horn Meffrid needs your help to save a wounded comrade.

Meffrid: I led my men to Quarrymill hoping to find refuge─instead we've found indifference. The cold-blooded bastards here want us out, and I can't oblige them soon enough. The problem is, some of mine aren't fit to travel─hells, Gallien can't even stand! Meffrid: As you well know, the people of this accursed hamlet won't help us. So, I've no choice but to turn to you, adventurer. Meffrid: In my homeland, long antelope horn is a traditional remedy with poison-purging properties. If you could bring me, say, four horns, I'd forever be in your debt.

Meffrid: Ah, you're back! Tell me you've got four horns with you!

Long Antelope Horn This particular specimen is almost twice as long as a normal horn. How it grew to this size in a single season is baffling.

Meffrid: You're a godssend, adventurer! Praise Rhalgr there's at least one woman in this place who gives a damn. Now we just need to find a way to prepare them... Meffrid: You wouldn't happen to know a man named Buscarron, would you? Some comrades of mine told me about him once. They said he never turns away folk in need, no matter where they're from. Meffrid: Seeing as he runs a tavern, he's like to have the tools to make the medicine. I'd be grateful if you could take the horns over to him to have them ground down. When that's done, bring the powder back, and give it to Faramund here. Godsspeed.

Buscarron: Ah, Forename, ever a sight for sore eyes! How fares the adventuring? Rolling in the coin like there's no tomorrow, no doubt!
...Hm? You've got something to show me?

Long Antelope Horn This particular specimen is almost twice as long as a normal horn. How it grew to this size in a single season is baffling.

Buscarron: Well, these look like good old antelope horns. Need them ground down to make a medicine, you say? Buscarron: Here's a better idea: I'll give you some of the stuff I have in my stores. Aye, I'm no stranger to the remedy. An Ala Mhigan friend once used it to treat my festering wound, years and years ago. Safe to say he saved my life. Buscarron: What's that? This is for an Ala Mhigan soldier in Quarrymill? Heh, so it comes full circle... Well, I hope it helps the poor sod as needs it. Oh, and don't worry your little head off about payment─I still owe you a deal more than you owe me, I reckon.

Faramund: It is well to see you returned. Have you the medicine for our brother?

Herbal Ointment If one is to believe Buscarron, this sour-smelling paste from Ala Mhigo will stop a wound from festering.

Faramund: Gods bless you, adventurer! I'll see that Gallien receives treatment at once! Faramund: Hopefully, this will allow the captain to rest easier. It has been a terrible burden on him, trying to keep every man alive. You've done us a great kindness, friend.

He Ain't Heavy Meffrid needs your help to find a missing comrade.

Meffrid: A-Adventurer! Gallien has gone missing! He's nowhere to be found! Meffrid: He shouldn't be walking about, not with those wounds! If he doesn't get the proper medicine and rest, his condition's like to deteriorate to where it was before...or worse. Meffrid: We need you to help us find him, and quickly. Start by asking Albreda─might be as the woman's seen something!

Albreda: Ah, finally. It's about time you came asking about Gallien. I watched him leave Quarrymill some time ago, and he left me this sealed letter before he went off. Made me swear not to open it until someone came asking... Albreda: “My brothers,
I cannot bear to be a burden any longer. That is why I must leave you all. Do not worry for me─just find your way safely to Little Ala Mhigo.” Albreda: <sigh> Blast it. Would that I'd known what he was thinking. I'd have stopped this folly myself. Albreda: The love Gallien bears for his brothers is so strong, he's willing to sacrifice himself for them. Make no mistake, entering the wood in his weakened state is suicide.

Meffrid: Out in the wilds...alone!? That fool! That great big sentimental fool! Meffrid: My men and I will scour the wood for Gallien! Please help us find him before something terrible happens!

Gallien: <pant> <pant> W-Watch out! A goblin!

Meffrid: Gallien! Gallien: C-Captain? But...why? You should all be on your way... Meffrid: Who do you take us for!? We're Ala Mhigans, and Ala Mhigans never forsake one another, hardships be damned! Meffrid: Remember the oath we swore, godsdammit─the oath to reclaim our homeland! We'll set foot on Ala Mhigan soil again─together─or not at all! Do you understand me!? Gallien: Yes, sir... Meffrid: Good. Let us return to our brothers. Oh, and don't even think that you'll get off lightly. As soon as you're healed, I'll give you such a thorough thrashing, you'll wish we didn't find you! Meffrid: I can't thank you enough for saving Gallien. I will see you back at Quarrymill.

Meffrid: Gallien's expected to make a full recovery. We'll linger here till he's strong enough to take to the road again. As much as I mislike this place, beggars can't be choosers.

Come Highly Recommended Meffrid wishes to repay your kindness.

Meffrid: Now that things are relatively settled, I seem to recall that you wanted something of me. Meffrid: You've proven a true friend to my people. Ask of me anything, and it's yours, so long as it's mine to give. Meffrid: The cooperation of the people of Little Ala Mhigo? That's all? Far be it from me to question your desires, of course... Very well, I will provide you with a letter to show to Gundobald. Meffrid: The old bear was my mentor when I first joined the Resistance. He's intimidating to those who don't know him, but he takes care of his own. I've no doubt that he will do all in his power to aid you.

Gundobald: Why have you returned? You are not welcome here; I thought I made that clear.

Meffrid's Recommendation A quickly drawn up letter addressed to one Gundobald.

Gundobald: You...you spoke with Meffrid? It has been so long since I last heard from him, I had feared him dead... Twelve be praised... Gundobald: Whoever you are, Meffrid sees you as a friend, and any friend of Meffrid is a friend of mine. I know of this masked stranger you seek, and will tell you what I can.

The Bear and the Young'uns' Cares Gundobald is willing to share with you what he knows of the masked stranger.

Gundobald: An outsider resembling your masked stranger has reportedly been appearing near Little Ala Mhigo of late. What's more, it seems that some of our youngbloods are meeting him in secret. Gundobald: No doubt you'll want to question them about their trysts, but they are not like to yield the information readily to an outsider. If you tell them I sent you, though, they may well feel obliged to talk.

Waldhar: ...A masked man? No idea what yer talkin' about. I ain't done nothin' wrong, so leave me be.

Adalind: G-Gundobald sent you? I, uh─ Listen, I told them it was a bad idea! All that tripe about believing the masked man and─ Adalind: ...O-Oh. You...you don't know anything about this? Why didn't you say so to start with!? You can't throw the old bear's name around like that and expect me to not think I'm in for it!

Sifrid: What? Have I been meeting any masked men lately? Hmmm, let's see... Sifrid: Nope, can't say I have! But I'll be sure to tell all my friends you're looking for him.

Talebot: There's a bunch been skulkin' about right suspicious, like, but I've got nothin' to do with 'em. I know trouble when I see it, an' that there's trouble, mark me words.

Gundobald: So, you have indeed confirmed my suspicions about a masked man... That is most troubling. Whatever the young ones are scheming, it can lead to no good end. Gundobald: There's an anger inside them─I can see it in their eyes. I ought to know, for it once burned within me as well. Gundobald: Two decades ago, that same anger drove me and my brothers to rise against the despot who ruled Ala Mhigo. Naught would do but to depose him and usher in a revolution. Well, we got our revolution all right...but it cost us our freedom. Gundobald: Blinded by our hate, we didn't realize that we had been dancing to the Empire's tune. By the time we did, it was too late. Ala Mhigo had fallen. Gundobald: There are times when a man must be patient. Now is such a time, though the young ones know this not. Unless we intervene, they are like to commit great folly. If you learn aught of their plans, I would thank you to bring word to me.

Wilred Wants You Hremfing has a secret message for you.

Hremfing: Hey, adventurer. You done talking with the old bear? Hremfing: I've got a message for you from Wilred. Lad's something of a leader among the young ones here. Hremfing: He's impressed that you've won over Gundobald, and wants a word with you. Says he'll be waiting over at the craggy area north of here.

Wilred: Thanks for coming, friend. 'Tis no ordinary outsider who can gain the trust of the old bear. That's why I wanted to meet you, to discuss something in private. Wilred: Tell me...why are you snooping about? Did the Empire send you? Or someone else? Wilred: Coeurl got your tongue? Hmph, no matter. Whoever it is you work for, your meddling ends here. Get her!

Wilred: Y-You're stronger than you look... Wilred: This changes nothing! Threaten us, beat us bloody all you like...but nothing short of death can make us give up our fight! Wilred: We're going to obtain the power to bring down the Empire, and with it we'll reclaim our homeland!

Gundobald: Attacked by Wilred and his cronies!? That they would go to such lengths for the sake of this plan of theirs... Gundobald: Left to their own devices, the young fools are like to harm others, if not themselves. We must uncover their agenda and put an end to this madness.

Big Trouble in Little Ala Mhigo Gundobald needs your help to rein in the young ones of Little Ala Mhigo.

Gundobald: Wilred mentioned obtaining the power to bring down the Empire. Of what power could he be speaking...? ??? (Bertliana): Gun...Gundobald... <groan> I-I... Gundobald: Bertliana!? Gods preserve! What happened!? Bertliana: I was out foraging...when the Corpse Brigade came... They took me to their hideout...and they...they... <sob> Bertliana: The whole while, they laughed at me... <sob> They said that I suffer...
b-because I cling on to hope... <sob> Bertliana: Is it wrong to dream of home? Is it wrong to call ourselves Ala Mhigans? Gundobald: Do not heed such poisonous notions, child. Our dreams are what sustain us. Be strong─I swear to you, those villains will answer for their crimes in due time. But tell me...does anyone else know of this? Bertliana: Wilred... He saw me outside... He was so angry... Gundobald: I must tend to Bertliana. In the meantime, I need you to find out what the young ones make of this. I fear that they may do something rash.

Riled Lass: What those animals did to Bertliana is unforgivable! And to think they look down on us! Riled Lass: Well, I'll suffer this humiliation no more! I'm with Wilred to the bitter end! I'm not afraid of a few lizards!

Riled Youth: If this plan succeeds, we'll have the power to lay the Empire low! To change the world for the better! Riled Youth: Might be as Gundobald's content to eke out an existence in this musty old cave, but I'll be damned if I'm going to spend the rest of my life here. Now, where in the seven hells did I put that bloody map?

Wilred: O mighty Rhalgr, Lord of Destruction...we implore You, lend us Your strength and put an end to the suffering of Your people... Wilred: Hmph, here to interfere again? Well, you're too late. Our plan is already in motion. Wilred: Once we have the crystals, our enemies will pay for their crimes, and no one will dare oppress us ever again!

Gundobald: ...Gone? The whole lot of them? Then it is as I feared─they mean to take matters into their own hands. But what exactly is it that they mean to do?

Blunt Hunting Knife Countless years of use have seen the blade dulled and nicked, and the haft worn smooth.

Zanr'ak Map A detailed map of the Amalj'aa stronghold in southern Thanalan.

Gundobald: What's this? A hunting knife...and a map of Zanr'ak? ...Wait. You said Wilred spoke of crystals, did you not? But they couldn't possibly mean to─ By the gods, this is rank madness... Gundobald: The young fools are untrained and unblooded, all. They have no notion of how dangerous the Amalj'aa are. They'll be butchered before they get within a hundred yalms of the crystals. Gundobald: They are headed east. If we hurry, we may yet find them before it's too late.

Gundobald: Wilred... Did no others survive? Wilred: This is all wrong... Getting the crystals was supposed to be the start... We were going to reclaim our homeland... We were... We... Gundobald: Pull yourself together, lad! Wilred: W-We were going to make an offering of crystals to Rhalgr─to summon Him, j-just like the masked man taught us. Wilred: We plotted to sneak into Zanr'ak and make off with the lizardmen's cache, b-but they caught us and...and... So many dead... Gods forgive me... ??? (Hemozz Teh): Heathens! You shall pay for your crimes with your souls! Gundobald: I regret our young ones' transgressions, but a soul is too high a price for youthful folly. Gundobald: For all their failings, they are the hope of the Ala Mhigan people. This hope I will guard with my life.

Wilred of the Falling Petal: Forgive us... We...we only wanted... Gundobald the Resolute: The excuses will keep! Lavafang Hemozz Teh: The whelps must pay for their crimes! Gundobald the Resolute: I will not let you harm them! Gundobald the Resolute: Adventurer, stay close to Wilred! Lavafang Hemozz Teh: Come, ye blessed of our Lord's breath! Strapping Lad: No! I don't want to die! Strapping Lad: Mummy!!! Gundobald the Resolute: We almost have them!

Gundobald: Your skill at arms is impressive, adventurer. Our wayward youths could learn much from a woman like you. Gundobald: The battle is won, but it would be unwise to linger here. Let us return to Little Ala Mhigo. Wilred: W-Wait! We've come all this way─we have to get the crystals! They're right there, ripe for the picking! Gundobald: Have you learned nothing, Wilred? Did you not see those tempered wretches? Gundobald: Such is the fate of those who are touched by a god. Is that what you desire for yourself and your friends? Wilred: What!? N-No one said anything about─ The masked man told us we could defeat the Empire if we summoned Rhalgr! He swore─ Gundobald: Enough. I will hear the rest of this sorry tale back in Little Ala Mhigo. I daresay Forename will wish to hear it as well.

Gundobald: No more lies, Wilred. Tell us everything. Wilred: I was outside with the others when he appeared─the masked stranger. Wilred: He told us about summoning Rhalgr, about using crystals, and then just...vanished. We never saw him again. Wilred: I wanted so desperately to believe that we could raise ourselves from this squalor that I never stopped to question his motives. But I should have known─there's no solution, nothing we can do to change our lot. Our people are doomed to live and die like beasts... Gundobald: Listen to me, Wilred. Our home may be lost to us, but it takes more than stones and mortar to define who we are. No matter where we may be, Ala Mhigo lives on within us all. Gundobald: It is for you to decide what to make of this legacy. But whatever you choose to do with your life, never forget that you owe it to this adventurer─an outsider. Wilred: I...I won't. I promise. Wilred: Thank you for saving me. And...sorry I tried to kill you. Gundobald: My thanks as well, friend. It gives us hope to know that there are kind souls such as you out there. Little Ala Mhigo may not have much in the way of comfort, but you will always be welcome here.

Back to Square One Gundobald wants to wish you well on your investigation.

Gundobald: Would that we had more information to offer, but what Wilred told you is the extent of our knowledge of the masked stranger. Gundobald: Left unchecked, that man will bring about great pain and suffering. I pray that you'll find and put a swift end to the creature─for the sake of the young ones who died by his poisoned words.

Minfilia: Welcome back, Forename! I'm reliably informed the investigation took you to Quarrymill and Little Ala Mhigo. Minfilia: So tell me, were you able to learn aught of Lahabrea? Minfilia: Planted the knowledge of summoning in impressionable young minds, you say? Precisely the kind of deception the Ascians would employ... Minfilia: While many of the ills that ail the land can be attributed to the Calamity, some are being brought about by a malign will. Minfilia: We must needs delve deeper into this, while things remain quiet on the primal front. Tataru: All work and no play makes Minfilia a dull Scion. Minfilia: Hm? Did you say something? Tataru: N-Nothing, my lady! Minfilia: Ahem. Mayhap we ought to rest awhile before speaking further of the investigation.

Terror at Fallgourd Minfilia has another lead for you to pursue.

Minfilia: While you were tending to business in Thanalan, some new information arrived courtesy of our friends the sylphs. Minfilia: An individual fitting Lahabrea's description has been sighted in the North Shroud. This sighting comes in the wake of a series of mysterious deaths in the selfsame area. My instincts tell me that our man is involved. Minfilia: I would have you continue your investigation where you left off. Twelve willing, we will pick up Lahabrea's trail once more. Minfilia: Noraxia can furnish you with the details. Pray speak with her, and take it from there. As always, be careful out there, Forename.

Noraxia: Walking one is to investigate sinister one? Then heed well this one's words. Noraxia: This one is friends with a walking one in the Ashcrown Consortium. According to friendly one, a digging one named Medrod had an encounter with a scary masked one. This masked one is most certainly sinister one! Noraxia: Walking one should go and speak with digging one Medrod. Digging one is to be found at Fallgourd Float in the North Shroud.

Medrod: P-Please leave me be... I'm not long for this world... Medrod: I...I looked death in the face... 'Tis only a matter of time before he comes for me, just like he came for that poor woman... Medrod is clearly traumatized. Perhaps if you were to soothe him, he might remain calm for long enough to hold a conversation.

Medrod: ...Y-You're right. It's not as bad as it seems. I saw something terrible, that's true, but that hardly means I'm going to suffer the same fate. Thanks to you, I can think straight again. I believe I can even recount what I saw without losing it. Medrod: It was just another ordinary day. I was headed back to the Float when I noticed a suspicious character in the distance─a masked man garbed head to toe in black. He had a hideous fiend in tow, a winged creature that was all eyeball and jagged teeth. Taken by curiosity, I crept as near as I dared... Medrod: ...To see the corpse of a woman! One glimpse was enough to tell me that she'd died a gruesome death! Medrod: In that instant, I knew right away that the masked man was a minion of Thal, come to claim her soul for His realm. Medrod: What!? You're investigating this same masked man!? Aideen: If that's the case, we'll help you in whatever way we can! Ivaurault: Aye, anything to ensure that we won't have to suffer Medrod's hysteria ever again. Medrod: All right, teamwork! That's what I wanted to─wait, I haven't been that bad, have I...? At any rate, I'm all for helping this adventurer. It's the least I can do to repay her for comforting me!

Ziz Is So Ridiculous Aideen has a proposal to make concerning your investigation.

Aideen: So, here's what I know about the deaths: all the victims were found with their faces torn to shreds. Aideen: Among the local fauna, only the scalekin known as ziz could inflict such wounds. That's why some folk are pointing the finger at them. Aideen: I somehow doubt that the answer's that simple, but for the sake of thoroughness, we should look into it. Why don't you put down, say, three of the creatures, and see if you can find any proof connecting them to the deaths?

Aideen: You've already seen to the ziz? Good work, adventurer! So, were you able to find aught to suggest that the creatures are our culprits? Aideen: ...Nothing? Truth be told, even if there were proof, I wouldn't know what it looked like. Aaanyway, I believe we can safely strike ziz from our list of suspects. Which leaves us with...the masked man and his winged eyeball!

Rock of Rancor Aideen has further knowledge of the mysterious deaths.

Aideen: There's something else I heard about the deaths. It appears all the victims have been comely maidens. I'd better watch myself, eh!? Heh heh heh! Aideen: <sigh> Unseemly japes aside, there's a rumor been going around. There's some as whisper that, after each victim died, her rancor went into the great big rock southwest of here, causing it to flash and moan. Aideen: This bears investigating, I reckon. I'm going to give you a firesand stick to blow off a piece of that crag. The stick doesn't come with a fuse or anything, so you'll have to throw the thing. Once you've torn the rock a new one, bring back some of the fragments, and I'll give them a gander.

Firesand Stick A hollowed out wooden tube filled with several onzes of firesand. Used in mines and tunnels to pulverize large boulders and clear away cave-ins.

Aideen: Most folk are too scared to go within a hundred yalms of the Rock of Rancor─aye, it has a name. But what's a few vengeful spirits to a dauntless adventurer like you, eh?

Lightning-aspected Crystal Bigger than a shard, but not quite large enough to be a cluster. The energies emitted by this crystal lightly tingle the hands of any who touch it.

Aideen: ...Huh? Why, these are just your garden-variety crystals! 'Tis a bit hard to tell beneath all the dirt and grime, but they're definitely lightning-aspected. Aideen: I almost hate to say it, but that explains the flashing and moaning. Nothing to do with the masked stranger. Looks like I've gone and wasted both your time and a perfectly good firesand stick. Oh, well...

Seeing Eye to Winged Eye Ivaurault has information to share regarding your investigation.

Ivaurault: There is something you should know. I have been keeping this to myself, lest I worsen Medrod's paranoia, but I, too, have seen the winged eyeball. Ivaurault: I cannot say whether it was coincidence, but my sighting took place precisely the same time as Medrod's. I was heading home after a day of digging when a shadow fell over me. Ivaurault: Looking up, I found myself locked in a gaze with a giant eyeball. I let out a scream at the top of my lungs and ran without once looking back. This happened at the rocky area west of here, in case you had a mind to investigate.

Ivaurault: A monstrous banemite appeared...and you slew it!? That creature had long been a scourge upon the folk of Fallgourd! Ivaurault: Intentional or no, you have done us a great service. You have my gratitude! Ivaurault: ...But this does make me wonder, was it truly a winged eyeball I saw? Or merely a trick of light combined with blind panic?

Power of Deduction Medrod is troubled by the dearth of new developments in the murder investigation.

Medrod: <sigh> There've been no promising leads in the murders. I can scarce get a wink of sleep, knowing that the killer is still at large. Medrod: Judging by your furrowed brows, I take it this sorry business troubles you as much as it does me. Ivaurault: I had been pondering my encounter. I was uncertain for a time, but there can be no doubt: it was a winged eyeball that I witnessed. It's implausible that I could have mistaken so distinct a creature for a banemite. Medrod: But you and I were malms apart. How could we have both seen it at precisely the same time? Medrod: What's more, our adventurer friend here had a run-in with the banemite at the very spot you claimed to see that fiendish eyeball. Isn't that right? Ivaurault: There must be an explanation! I know I saw an eyeball with wings─I would wager an apple tart on it! Aideen: Oooh, he's serious. But listen, mayhap it's not as mysterious as we're making it out to be. There's no reason why there couldn't be─ Aideen: <gasp> Gods, of course... There must be more than one of the buggers! Ugh, it's so obvious. But then that means...since there have been repeated sightings of these fiends...then there must be even more victims as yet undiscovered... All: <gulp> Medrod: I-I do believe we're out of our depth. We ought to leave the rest to the expert. Aideen: Y-Yes, we're just civilians, after all. Good luck, adventurer. It was a pleasure knowing you! Ivaurault: While I burn to know the truth, some things are best left unknown. Lest you have forgotten, it was at the rocky area to the west that I had my encounter. Ivaurault: Should you discover aught of note, you will want to alert the authorities. There is a guardhouse nearby. The Serpents there should be pleased for any information that pertains to the security of the region.

Aethelmaer: Greetings, adventurer. Is there aught I might assist you with?

Ravaged Corpse The body of this poor soul has been defiled in more ways than one.

Aethelmaer: Gods be good, not again... Aethelmaer: No matter how many bodies I see, I cannot seem to get used to the horrid sight. Poor woman... Aethelmaer: Identical deaths have been reported in the Central Shroud. While the masked stranger you seek does not seem to feature in any, sightings of the winged eyeball are common enough. The creature appears to be moving the bodies, but to what end, none can say. Aethelmaer: The victims have all been young women. All are found with their faces mutilated beyond recognition. It's been difficult to identify them, so as to notify their next of─ Aethelmaer: Hm? This button, engraved with a lily motif... The very same object was found upon another victim. A family sigil, or that of an organization, perhaps? Aethelmaer: Either way, I dare to hope that this find will prove pivotal in solving the murders.

Secret of the White Lily Aethelmaer wants you to hold on to the button.

Aethelmaer: I would have you hold on to the lily button. You will need it to continue your investigation. Aethelmaer: While it isn't standard procedure to entrust key evidence to individuals, you have proven yourself reliable and resourceful in this matter. I see no reason why you shouldn't carry on your work. Aethelmaer: If I might make a suggestion, you may wish to take the button to Gridania and have it examined by Miounne. Mayhap someone in her vast network of contacts can shed light upon its sigil.

Mother Miounne: Good evening to you, Forename. By your grim expression, I suspect you aren't here for scones and herb tea.

Lily Button A lily sigil is carved into this tiny ivory button.

Mother Miounne: Well, isn't this a lovely little button. The engraving is quite exquisite─artisan-level quality, I would say. Where did you say you found this? ...On a dead body? Lovely. Mother Miounne: Anyway, I'm afraid I do not recognize the lily sigil. You will have to find the answer the old-fashioned way─by asking around. You could do worse than beginning with Bernadette, over by the aetheryte plaza. She has a sharp pair of eyes, that one.

Bernadette: Need help tracking down the owner of a button? That's certainly not a request I receive on a regular basis. Well, go on, then─show me what you have.

Lily Button A lily sigil is carved into this tiny ivory button.

Bernadette: Hmmm... Seems to be some manner of decorative button, reminiscent of those worn by the families of old, though I cannot claim to know its sigil. However, I can say with certainty that the white lily is a recurring theme in Gridanian culture. Bernadette: Alas, I do not know who would make a personal sigil of it. If there is a soul in Gridania who does, it would be Ceinguled over at the Lancers' Guild. The woman makes a point of knowing all the citizens on a forename basis.

Ceinguled: Bernadette believes that I can help you? Well, that is a rather bold assumption to make. I will try to assist, never you fear, but whether aught comes of it is another matter. Now, then, what do you require of me?

Lily Button A lily sigil is carved into this tiny ivory button.

Ceinguled: Fascinating... Work of this quality is rarely seen in the hands of ordinary Gridanians. The owner of this button is most certainly well-to-do. You may wish to take your search to the Gentry's Ward, northwest of here. Ceinguled: Wait. A memory comes to me. Of late, there has been a man who is perpetually seated at the bench by the ward's entrance. His name is Ursandel, and I distinctly recall seeing a markedly similar button upon the breast of his jacket. I daresay he can tell you a thing or two about it.

Ursandel: I do not believe we are acquainted. Pray leave me to my thoughts.

Lily Button A lily sigil is carved into this tiny ivory button.

Ursandel: <gasp> The sigil of the Dartancours family! How...how is it that you came to be in possession of this button? Ursandel: ...From the body of a murdered woman? H-Her face...was it marred in any way? Ursandel: I had feared as much... <sigh> I can no longer feign ignorance. I shall reveal to you the truth of the deaths, but on one condition: you promise to put an end to my lady's madness and free her from her torment.

Skeletons in Her Closet Ursandel has a confession to make regarding the mysterious murders.

Ursandel: I was once a manservant in the employ of one of the oldest and proudest families in Gridania─the Dartancours. During that time, I had the honor of waiting upon Lady Amandine, mistress of the household. Fair as summer was she, and possessed of a heart befitting her radiance. Ursandel: Alas, the Calamity wrought a great change in her. Though my lady escaped with her life, death may well have been a kinder fate. Never will I forget the day her bandages were removed, and she beheld her disfigured face for the first time. At that moment, the kindly woman I knew ceased to be. Ursandel: Unable to bear the thought of being seen, my lady sequestered herself within her chambers and refused all company. This continued for many uneasy moons, until one day, without warning, she began receiving queer guests. None among us knew whence they came, these masked men, but my lady believed that they would help her to regain that which she had lost. So began the “rites of rejuvenation.” Ursandel: These rituals seemed innocent enough in the beginning, but grew ever more grotesque as time went by. Eventually, there came a day when my lady bound one of her handmaidens to her bed, and...and proceeded to mutilate the poor girl's face. Suffice it to say, she did not survive the ordeal. It fell to me to dispose of her body. Ursandel: I performed the dreadful task as bade, obedient servant that I was, but when the time came to return to the house, my legs refused to move. I knew then that I could not go back to that place, not after the nightmare I had witnessed. So it was that I left Haukke Manor, my home for nigh on half a century. Ursandel: Long did I weep for the girl who was slain, and longer still for the woman that Lady Amandine had been. Yet one cannot weep forever, and I endeavored to put the matter behind me. Indeed, I had resolved never to speak of my experience...until you appeared before me. Ursandel: My lady's madness must be ended, lest more innocent lives be lost. Lay her tormented soul to rest, as you swore to me you would. She awaits you at Haukke Manor, on the western edge of the Central Shroud. Go now. Go and do what must be done.

Haukke Manor

Once used by seedseers as a place for spiritual reflection and meditation, Haukke Manor was long frowned upon by the people of Gridania as a symbol of excess. After years of protest, the building was finally sold to a wealthy duskwight by the name of Lady Amandine. While little is known of the Lady, it was said that she was exceptionally vain, and that to maintain her impeccable beauty, she would spare no expense. From facial creams concocted from rare Coerthas honeys to shampoos derived from the milk of exotic phurbles, her daily ritual of beauty treatments escalated until it was rumored she was bathing in the blood of her virgin maidservants. No amount of man-made tinctures, however could hide the hideous scars she eventually suffered during the Calamity, and from that day forth she was forced to turn to a darker solution, signing away her very soul in a final effort to “save face.”

Scion Marauder: On your guard, everyone. Scion Conjurer: Dark forces are at work here.

Scion Conjurer: Do you suppose there's anything useful in that room?

Scion Marauder: Let's not waste any time with this one.

Scion Thaumaturge: I think we can use this flow of magic to return to the manor entrance.

Scion Conjurer: Let us put this wayward soul to rest.

??? (Black-masked Ascian): Darkness has taken root within these halls... ??? (Black-masked Ascian): ...Sprung from the most unlikely of seeds. ??? (Black-masked Ascian): One cannot help but admire the irrepressible spirit that quickened it to life. Ascian of the Twelfth Staff: It is a pleasure to meet you at last, adventurer. You are every bit as intriguing as our master gave us to believe. Ascian of the Twelfth Sword: It is no ordinary mortal who can acquire one Crystal of Light...much less three. Ascian of the Twelfth Sword: The Crystals make you strong, and it is to that strength that the Light is drawn. Ascian of the Twelfth Staff: Hydaelyn chose well. Ascian of the Twelfth Sword: ...A pity that your existence is irreconcilable with our own. We cannot well allow you to continue upon your present course. Ascian of the Twelfth Staff: Alas, we came here not to play, but to take the measure of your strength for Master Lahabrea. That task now accomplished, we take our leave of you. Ascian of the Twelfth Sword: Fare you well, Bringer of Light.

Ursandel: You are returned! What sights awaited you within the manor? What has become of Lady Amandine? You must tell me all! Ursandel: ...So she went so far as to consort with devils. Would that I could have done more to prevent her fall. May she finally find peace in the beyond. Ursandel: I know not whether the masked men you encountered are the same pair that first led my lady astray, but it is plain that they are of the same vile brood. Should the chance ever present itself, promise me that you will visit upon them tenfold the woe they have brought upon others. Ursandel: But who am I to speak of punishment? By my silence, I allowed I know not how many innocent young women to die in unspeakable circumstances... It matters not wherefore─through misplaced loyalty, cowardice, or both, I am an abettor to a gross crime. I will surrender myself to the authorities and accept whatever punishment they deem just. I only pray that the gods will have mercy on my soul.

Minfilia: Welcome back, Forename. Full glad am I to see you safely returned. Tell me, how fared you on your sojourn in the Twelveswood? Minfilia: ...Two of Lahabrea's minions? ...And they sought to measure your strength...by their own admission? Minfilia: The devils taunt us... It is beyond doubt, then─the Ascians have begun to move in earnest. Would that we knew to what end. Minfilia: Yet I will not bemoan our plight. Thanks to your tireless efforts, we are at least aware of the encroaching Darkness. Minfilia: Alas, we can only do so much. It is clear to me now that we Scions are too few to protect the realm against this threat unaided. Minfilia: We must needs alert the three nations to the presence of this elusive enemy, and recommend that they heighten their vigil. Minfilia: There is no shortage of misery in the world that the Ascians might exploit. We have an arduous struggle ahead of us. Minfilia: Yet come what may, we must not allow ourselves to become lost to hope, for that is precisely what the enemy desires. Minfilia: We have gleaned all we can from the information available to us. Let us set this investigation aside for the present. Minfilia: Another matter has arisen that requires your attention. Let me know when you are ready to be briefed, and I will summon the others.

Wrath of the Titan Minfilia is waiting to brief you and your fellow Scions on a new development.

Minfilia: The Maelstrom requests our assistance. Y'shtola: Concerning the kobolds they sent such copious notes on, I presume? Minfilia: Yes, and no. It has more to do with their findings, which portend a peril far greater than any beast tribe. Y'shtola: What sort of peril? Minfilia: The worst kind. A tribe of kobolds in the vicinity of Limsa Lominsa has reawakened Titan. Minfilia: Our task will be to slay the primal. The Maelstrom have sworn support for the endeavor. Minfilia: They are no strangers to the havoc kobolds can wreak. Y'shtola: Years before the Grand Company's reformation, two primals, Leviathan and Titan, chanced to converge upon the seawall, wreaking untold devastation. Y'shtola: There, by the grace of the Navigator, were the mercenaries Merlwyb hired able to fend them off. Y'shtola: Yet it did not take long for the beast tribes to regroup, and they summoned their primals once more. Minfilia: Thankfully, their second coming was decidedly short-lived─but that is beside the point. Minfilia: So long as tormented souls will them to exist, the realm will never be rid of primals. Y'shtola: The Maelstrom has kept a watchful eye upon the beast tribes─and the kobolds in particular─ever since. Y'shtola: Which brings us to the matter at hand. Minfilia: Unlike Ifrit, we know scarcely anything of Titan. Minfilia: Unfortunately, the only force known to have bested him─the modestly named “Company of Heroes”─disbanded five years since, and mercenaries are not in the habit of keeping chronicles. Y'shtola: Expect the worst. Y'shtola: The Maelstrom's help is of course appreciated, but even if we had their whole armada at our disposal, we could still find ourselves overmatched. Y'shtola: A pity the kobolds lack the gentle sensibilities of the sylphs. A peaceful resolution would be more than welcome. Y'shtola: The Echo will not avail you this time, I fear. If you are to survive, your steel must needs speak for you. Y'shtola: No one would think you a coward were you to decline. Minfilia: So you will accept? Minfilia: Thank you. Thancred (Lahabrea): We can't very well send her to Limsa Lominsa without Y'shtola, can we, Minfilia? Minfilia: May I ask that of you, Y'shtola? Y'shtola: I never thought it in question. Minfilia: Ever reliable. Minfilia: Very well. We will spare no effort to win victory. Minfilia: You may count on the full support of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Minfilia: And all not afield will aid the fight from afar. Minfilia: Thancred, Yda, go to the Grand Companies. Tell them of our plight and solicit their support. Minfilia: Urianger, send word to the Students of Baldesion─and Alphinaud, if you would. Minfilia: Papalymo, compile all the information we have on Titan, little though it may be. Minfilia: You'll be apprised of the tactical situation when you reach the Sailors Ward. Minfilia: Provision yourself for the journey. May you walk in the light of the Crystal.

R'ashaht Rhiki: Good to see you, Captain Surname. R'ashaht Rhiki: The Scions sent word that you were on your way. R'ashaht Rhiki: To business, then. It is as we told the Antecedent. The kobolds have once again summoned Titan. R'ashaht Rhiki: A little over a moon ago, we began to observe the beastmen moving south in increasing numbers from O'Ghomoro. R'ashaht Rhiki: Our scouts subsequently confirmed the object of their aggression─ Merlwyb: Crystals. Fodder for their fell primal. Merlwyb: Thank you, High Commander. You may leave the rest to me.
Your deeds bring glory to the Maelstrom, Captain Surname. Right proud am I to call you one of our own. Y'shtola: Forgive the lack of forewarning, High Commander. The Admiral wished to address Forename personally. Merlwyb: We are no strangers to conflict. Long have the Sahagin and the kobolds plagued our people─nor is this the first time we have had to address a primal threat. Merlwyb: In the past, when Titan rose to threaten the peace, it was to the Company of Heroes we turned. Merlwyb: But they are long disbanded, and we must look to other brave souls blessed with the strength to face this foe. Merlwyb: So it is that we turn now to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, confident in the belief that you are Limsa's best hope. Y'shtola: I hope you are right. Yet the situation is far from simple. The kobolds are not prone to unprovoked aggression. Did not the thalassocracy make a pact with the beastmen that each would keep to their own lands, and that no blood would be shed? Y'shtola: ...And was it not the Lominsans who violated this agreement, dissatisfied with their lot? Shall we then condemn the beastmen for defending their homes? Y'shtola: Even a pirate must one day reap what she has sown. R'ashaht Rhiki: I would advise you to choose your words with greater care, Lady Y'shtola! Merlwyb: Stand down, High Commander. She has the right of it. Merlwyb: And the wrong is mine. Freely do I claim it. Yet it makes little difference. Remorse will not shield us from Titan's wrath.
...Or would you have us fall upon our swords? Y'shtola: My apologies, Admiral. The safety and security of Limsa Lominsa's citizenry are, of course, of paramount concern. Merlwyb: Already, we have observed disruptions in the flow of aether further inland. The effects will be felt here in the city ere long. Merlwyb: I ask much of you, I know, but the need is great. I trust I can count on you, Captain? Merlwyb: You have my thanks, along with the full support of the Maelstrom. I await good tidings. Y'shtola: That the kobolds should summon Titan demonstrates they are no longer amenable to negotiation. Y'shtola: This being the case, we must needs prepare for conflict. Before we meet Titan in the field, however, it would be wise to learn all we can of our foe. And I can think of no better source of information than the mercenaries who defeated him once before. R'ashaht Rhiki: The Company of Heroes may be no more, but several of its former members still live. It is said that one of them is employed at the Grey Fleet mills in lower La Noscea. Y'shtola: Quite why a mercenary should choose to become a miller, I do not know. When you find him, mayhap you could ask him for me. I, meanwhile, shall seek his fellows.

Trachtoum: Lay down yer burdens, son,♪
Come drain a pint with me,♪
We'll have a grand ol' time,♪
Find ye a lass or three...♪ Trachtoum: Ye gonna say somethin', 'venturer, or just keep starin'?
Eh? Ye want to know about the Company of Heroes? Trachtoum: Ahhh hells... Price of bleedin' fame... Can't a miller mill in peace no more!? Trachtoum: Still, seein' as ye've come all this way, I s'pose it wouldn't hurt to oblige ye. Consider yerself lucky, lass─ol' Trachtoum was the Company's best axeman. Now, what was it ye wanted to know?

Tales from the Tidus Slayer Trachtoum is eager to regale you with stories of his glory days.

Trachtoum: Gah hah hah! So, ye want to hear the tale of how the Company of Heroes bested a primal, do ye? Trachtoum: Let me guess: ye mean that bastard Tidus, aye? Trachtoum: Oh, if only ye'd been there to see it! Trachtoum: 'Twas a mighty struggle, like the legends of old! Trachtoum: Me an' the boys fought him for three days an' nights, we did! Trachtoum: The ground trembled with every step Tidus took, an' when he hit ye, girl, it felt like a cannonball to the gut. Uggghhh! Just like that! Trachtoum: Oi, what's that look for? I'm a godsdamned hero, I'll have you know! The people 'round here sing me praises! Don't tell me ye only care about learnin' the secret tactics we used to beat ol' Tidus... Trachtoum: Hmph! Well, too bad, 'cause now I'm not feelin' charitable. If yer so damn desperate, then why don't ye do me a favor an' kill those rats that've made a nest by the windmill just south of here? Aye, do that, then we'll talk!

Trachtoum: Eh? So the beasties are dead, are they? Nice work, 'venturer! Trachtoum: Saved me the hassle of─ah, never mind.

Hungry Hungry Goobbues Trachtoum appears to be ignoring you.

Trachtoum: Eh? So the beasties are dead, are they? Nice work, 'venturer! Trachtoum: Saved me the hassle of─ah, never mind. Trachtoum: ...What? Ye still askin' about how we beat Tidus? I dunno, 'venturer...it was a pretty risky strategy, the kind only a veteran of ten score battles could rely upon. Trachtoum: I want to teach ye, I truly do! But unless ye prove ye have what it takes to face that fat bastard, I can't in good conscience tell you a damn thing! Trachtoum: At the very least, ye'd need to be capable of slayin', say, a goobbue... Trachtoum: Come to think of it, that ain't a bad idea. Them creatures have a taste for the flour milled here, so ye ought to have no trouble findin' one in the vicinity. Trachtoum: 'Course, I ain't askin' ye to cut one down quick as a skilled axeman like meself! Trachtoum: Anyroad, why don't ye try headin' due west an' standin' lookout 'case a goobbue comes callin'? Slay it, an' I might consider tellin' ye more about ol' Tidus.

Trachtoum: Eh? You again? Then that goobbue that was harassin' the millers is dead? Trachtoum: Didn't think ye had it in ye, 'venturer. Still, you took forever an' a day to get the job done. I'm still not sure if I should tell you our secrets...

The Lominsan Way Trachtoum remains unconvinced of your readiness to defeat the dread primal Tidus.

Trachtoum: So, uh...as I was sayin', I still don't know if ye've got what it takes to face Tidus. Maybe if ye slew a─ Grey Fleet Miller: Trachtoum? You in here drinking again? If you are, that goobbue had better be dead! Trachtoum: Oh, it's dead, chief, ye have me word on that! Cleaved the beast's skull in two with me trusty axe, I did! Grey Fleet Miller: Is that a fact? And what will your friend here say if I ask her? Trachtoum: Sh-She'll vouch for me, of course! Ain't that right...friend? Grey Fleet Miller: Tell me true: was it Trachtoum who slew that goobbue...or was it you? Trachtoum: Chief! Wh-What are ye sayin'!? It's me, Trachtoum, the finest axeman ever to serve in the Company of Heroes, the legendary mercenaries who slew that bastard Tidus! Grey Fleet Miller: ...Tidus? Tidus? Who in the seven hells is Tidus!? Some primal you fought in a drink-sodden dream? The Company of Heroes slew Titan, you bloody half-wit! Trachtoum: Ah. Aye, well...see, Tidus was what me an' the lads used to call him. Grey Fleet Miller: That's the biggest load of Sahagin shite I've ever heard.
Both of you, outside! We'll learn the truth the Lominsan way! Grey Fleet Miller: Trachtoum─if you didn't slay that goobbue, you may consider your contract revoked!

Trachtoum Parter of Seas: All right─ye know the rules! First one to smash their boulder will be judged the goobbue slayer! Trachtoum Parter of Seas: An' don't even think about tryin' to kill me! That's cheatin'! Grey Fleet Miller: Who picked these boulders!? They're nothing alike!
Ah, the hells with it─let the contest begin! Trachtoum Parter of Seas: How ye doin', lass? Feelin' a bit stiff, by any chance? Trachtoum Parter of Seas: Y-Yer still at it!? Bugger me─'tis lucky I've got one of these! Trachtoum Parter of Seas: Heh heh...only killin's against the rules!

Trachtoum: All right, all right, I admit it! I lied about bein' in the Company of Heroes. But I'm beggin' ye, chief─please don't dismiss me! I've learned me lesson, honest I have! Grey Fleet Miller: Save your blubbering, Trachtoum. <sigh> Gods, I should've known... Trachtoum: Mercy, please! I didn't want to deceive ye, I swear! It's just that I kept gettin' turned away by all the folk I asked for work, an' I panicked! Trachtoum: See, the last job I had was at Costa del Sol, an' there was this grizzled marauder everyone treated like royalty. When I heard he was a captain in the Company of Heroes, I finally understood why. Trachtoum: I-I wasn't bein' serious when I said I was one of 'em! But ye went an' believed me, so I...so I, er... Trachtoum: L-Look─his name was Wheiskaet, all right!? Wheiskaet! He'll tell ye how to defeat Titus or whatever the hells that thing's name is! Trachtoum: That's what ye wanted, ain't it!? So come on, then! Tell the chief to forgive me! It's only fair!

Wheiskaet: Pardon? You wish to slay the Lord of Crags? Y'shtola: We must slay him, Captain. The people of Limsa Lominsa are depending upon us. Wheiskaet: Hmph. You fancy yourselves heroes, then─just like in the tales? Y'shtola: Be not so quick to judge. Long have I labored for the well-being of you and yours. And my associate here has bathed in Ifrit's hellfire and lived. Y'shtola: She is blessed with a power that protects her from primal influence. Thus was she able to lay low the Lord of the Inferno. Y'shtola: We know full well the risks, and have taken every possible precaution. We lack only the knowledge of how to enter Titan's lair. Pray be so good as to grant us the boon of your wisdom, and we shall be on our way. Wheiskaet: A woman who can't be tempered? Useful...but it will not be enough. Wheiskaet: It is true that the Company of Heroes fought and felled primals─but each victory was bought with the lifeblood of brave men and women. Wheiskaet: And Titan was the worst we faced. Aye, we defeated him─in the end─but he took from us some of our very best. Wheiskaet: Even if you possess the power you claim, I have no reason to believe you will succeed. Y'shtola: Believe what you will. We mean to try. Y'shtola: Though our lives be forfeit, we will not abandon Limsa to the wrath of Titan. Wheiskaet: You are passionate, I'll grant you that... Wheiskaet: ...And you deserved better than the greeting I gave you. But I will not send you into O'Ghomoro on a whim. To be plain, I do not wish to see you give your lives in vain. Wheiskaet: At the very least, I must have assurances that you are more than common adventurers. Wheiskaet: I oversee security for Master Gegeruju's estates. Perhaps you can demonstrate your abilities by attending to one of our─ Y'shtola: Ye gods, man─have you heard nothing I have said? We have not the time to perform trivial tasks. The enemy is at the gates! Wheiskaet: Do you imagine words can sway me, girl? Wheiskaet: If you dislike my conditions, then you are welcome to find your own way into O'Ghomoro. Y'shtola: <sigh> Though it pains me to admit it, I fear we have no choice but to acquiesce to the man's demands. Y'shtola: Yet much remains to be done if we are to best Titan. Forgive me, but I must ask you to undertake this task alone. I will use the time to see to the remaining preparations. Wheiskaet: Leaving the dirty work to others, are we? Heh, very well. Y'shtola: Pray do whatever the good captain bids...however trifling. Remember: the fate of Limsa Lominsa hangs in the balance.

Nix That Wheiskaet would first like to verify that you are not a complete fraud.

Wheiskaet: Master Gegeruju's requests can be more demanding than you realize. Before I set you to your true task, I would like to verify that this won't be a waste of my time. Wheiskaet: A nix has recently been seen prowling the beach to the east. As you can imagine, my master does not want large slimy creatures anywhere near his lands. Wheiskaet: The beast is cunning, but you should have no difficulty luring it out with herring. Wheiskaet: Slay the nix and return to me. Oh, and don't forget to bring me a leg as proof of the kill.

Fattened Herring When used as bait, a fish this size is sure to attract even the largest of beasts.

Wheiskaet: Well? Did you deal with the nix?

Nix Leg Almost as large as an aldgoat leg, but several times leaner.

Wheiskaet: Lest you think me overly cautious for testing you in this way, you should know that we had an incident not long ago. A foolish young employee was dismissed for lying about his past. He claimed to have served in the Company of Heroes, but I knew for a fact he did not. Wheiskaet: Anyway, now that the pointless busywork is finished, I shall give you a challenge as befits your talents.

A Modest Proposal Wheiskaet has an important mission for you.

Wheiskaet: Two highly distinguished individuals are scheduled to visit Costa del Sol in the near future, and Master Gegeruju wishes to welcome them with an elaborate banquet. Wheiskaet: But while money is no object, not everything Master Gegeruju desires can be so easily purchased. Wheiskaet: It is to be an extremely exotic feast. And so, Forename, your mission is to seek out and obtain the rare ingredients our chef requires. Wheiskaet: Naturally, such fine dining must be accompanied with a suitable wine. And by “suitable,” I mean “the very best there is.” That, however, can wait for the time being, as I believe you have enough on your plate as it is. Wheiskaet: It will be a long and arduous journey, but you need not toil alone. Many of the mercenaries who once served under my command still live, and they will guide you in your quest. For the first ingredient, I would have you travel to the South Shroud and speak with Landenel at Camp Tranquil. Wheiskaet: ...What? Do you mean to tell me that you cannot afford to waste time, as your associate did? Wheiskaet: Adventurer, if you have not the endurance to complete this mission, how do you expect me to believe you can outlast the Lord of Crags? Either do it or don't─I have work to do.

Landenel: Do you require assistance, adventurer? Landenel: ...So this is the one who would challenge Titan. I've been expecting you, Forename. Landenel: The ingredient you seek is the egg of a giant adamantoise. Landenel: The method of acquisition should be obvious─you steal it from the beast's nest, of course. Simple in theory, but difficult in execution. Most who try die in the attempt. Landenel: Will I help you get it? Hah, you amuse me. I will not jeopardize my position by openly assisting you. From me you will receive only information. What you do with it is your choice.

Trial by Turtle Landenel needs to explain a few things to you.

Landenel: Let me be clear: this business between you, me, and the captain must remain a secret. Landenel: See, I don't regret my time spent with the Company in the slightest. Traveling the world, meeting interesting people, killing them─it was all jolly good fun. Landenel: Alas, Gridanians are, by and large, an unforgiving lot─Detoh here being a rare exception. Landenel: I've had to go to great lengths to ensure that I am seen as a model citizen, with no taste for drinking, whoring, gambling, and all those other activities I so dearly miss. Landenel: So understand that if you ruin my little charade by wagging your tongue, I'll fashion a noose with your entrails and hang you from the nearest heavenspillar. Landenel: Well, what are you waiting for? There's a perfectly good adamantoise egg in a nest to the east of here, just ripe for the taking. Landenel: Not that I expect you to live long enough to claim it! Landenel: The mother never strays far from the child, and you will surely be attacked the moment you lay hands upon the egg. Landenel: ...There will be other heroes, Forename. You do not need to challenge Titan. Abandon your quest, or your corpse will rot in this swamp.

Landenel: I thought you might have the good sense to leave this place. By your continued presence, I take it you intend to persevere to the bitter end?

Giant Adamantoise Egg An exceptionally large egg with a seemingly unbreakable shell. When it hatches, the baby adamantoise that emerges will likely be as large as a hound.

Landenel: Ahahaha! Such bravery, such recklessness! That will serve you well against Titan. Landenel: Leave the egg with me─I'll see that it gets to the captain. You should make haste to southern Thanalan. Landenel: In Forgotten Springs, you will find a man named U'odh Nunh. He will be your next guide. Safe travels, Forename.

U'odh Nunh: State your business, adventurerrr.
<snort> Hah hah hah! So this is the one Wheiskaet sends me. U'odh Nunh: I haven't the foggiest what he sees in you─and until I do, you will rrreceive no aid from me.

The Perfect Prey U'odh Nunh wants you to hunt the most dangerous game.

U'odh Nunh: Perrrsistent bugger. Very well, let's have a look at you. U'odh Nunh: ...You've seen your share of battle, there's no mistaking that. And you did manage to obtain that adamantoise egg. However, that was naught more than a display of brrrute force and blind courage. U'odh Nunh: The nunh I once fought also believed that his strrrength would save him. He was wrong, and now I am nunh. U'odh Nunh: Many years ago, I joined the Company of Heroes to hone my skills, instead of challenging my predecessor before I was ready. Even when I was young, I understood that victorrry goes to the patient, the cunning, the pragmatic. U'odh Nunh: That is why I claimed my position, and it is why I still hold it. And it is why I will not help an unprrroven whelp. U'odh Nunh: The Children of the Sands do not offer aid to strangers. To do so is a sign of weakness. However, if you were rrrecognized as a skilled hunter in your own right, it would be permissible to assist you. U'odh Nunh: Across the desert to the east lies an Amalj'aa encampment. There dwells a warrior renowned both for his strrrength and his guile. To even face this Amalj'aa in battle, you must first find a way to lure him away from the encampment. U'odh Nunh: This will be your test: to drrraw out and defeat the veteran. For this, I will offer you no advice─only this worn spear. U'odh Nunh: Why, you ask? You will have to solve that rrriddle yourself. Now go─slay this old warrior and bring to me his necklace.

Bloody Guisarme A trophy claimed by U'odh Nunh from the dying hands of an Amalj'aa warrior.

U'odh Nunh: Tell me, adventurerrr: is our old nemesis dead?

Crude Necklace A confusion of teeth, bones, and claws strung onto a piece of leather. Supposedly from the pattern in which items are ordered, other Amalj'aa can glean the name and rank of the necklace's wearer.

U'odh Nunh: 'Tis a fine necklace, as befits a veteran of countless battles. It will make an excellent trophy. U'odh Nunh: The spear? It belonged to one of his brrrothers. I knew when he spied it from afar, he would be unable to rrresist venturing outside the encampment to see for himself. U'odh Nunh: Did you discern my intent, or was it dumb luck, I wonder... U'odh Nunh: Heh heh heh! Either way, you imprrress me, adventurer! I shall tell you of the ingredient you seek.

When the Worm Turns U'odh Nunh is finally willing to tell you of the ingredient you seek.

U'odh Nunh: A shame we did not meet when I was still with the Company of Heroes. You would have made a fine rrrecruit. U'odh Nunh: But no point dwelling on what cannot be. You have a Wellwick worm to hunt. U'odh Nunh: Sandworms slither brrrazenly across the desert dunes, but Wellwick worms are far fewer in number. Rarity brrreeds demand, and so their meat is highly prized as a delicacy. U'odh Nunh: The only way to catch your quarry is to entice it with something it cannot rrresist. U'odh Nunh: These worms prrrey on the smaller creatures of the Sagolii. A freshly slaughtered angler carcass would be my choice of bait. U'odh Nunh: There is an area teeming with anglers to the east. I will mark it upon your map, along with the location where Wellwick worms are most frrrequently sighted. U'odh Nunh: Be warned─the blood will drive the worm into a feeding frrrenzy. If your skills are lacking, it will devour you as well.

Rotting Angler A few more bells under the sun and this fish will turn ripe as a faerie apple.

U'odh Nunh: You look well. Have you caught your quarry, then?

Wellwick Worm Meat A large round slice of Wellwick worm white meat.

U'odh Nunh: Your skills as a hunter rrrival those of our best. I applaud your success, Forename. U'odh Nunh: The meat will need to be heavily smoked before I ship it to Wheiskaet. Worry not─you have my word that he will rrreceive it in time for the banquet. U'odh Nunh: You must be eager to obtain the third ingrrredient. I regret to say that I know naught of its location. For the nonce, you should return to Costa del Sol and seek Wheiskaet's counsel. U'odh Nunh: Ah, but hold a moment. Since you will be meeting the captain again soon, there is something I would like you to deliver to him for me.

There and Back Again U'odh Nunh would like you to deliver a gift to Wheiskaet.

U'odh Nunh: The captain was always fond of this brandewine. I would be grrrateful if you could deliver it on my behalf. U'odh Nunh: I was a rrreckless, angry youth when I first joined the Company, and he would have been well within his rights to cast me out. Everything I have I owe to his wisdom and generrrosity. U'odh Nunh: Aye, Wheiskaet was a firm-yet-fair teacher, an expert molder of men. And I suspect that is still the case now. U'odh Nunh: Please give him my rrregards, Forename.

Wheiskaet: Well met, Forename. Landenel and U'odh Nunh both spoke highly of you. What brings you here today?

Onyx Brandewine A deep, caramel-colored spirit made from twice distilling fine red wine and then aging it in rosewood barrels for at least thirty summers.

Wheiskaet: Ahhh, my favorite. I shall have to thank the nunh personally. Wheiskaet: Now, you have but one ingredient left. Fortunately, you will not have to travel to Aldenard this time to obtain it.

The Things We Do for Cheese Wheiskaet would like to tell you about the final ingredient needed for the banquet.

Wheiskaet: Truth be told, I never intended for you to collect this last ingredient. Brayflox, my old quartermaster, wished to bring it to Costa del Sol herself. Wheiskaet: However, not long ago, she sent word that there's been some trouble at the Longstop, and that the delivery would be delayed indefinitely. She told me nothing of the incident itself, but I fear the situation may be dire. Wheiskaet: Though I would like nothing more than to aid her myself, I have no choice but to turn to you and your allies. Make haste to Hidden Falls docks and speak with Ozun Nazun. He will direct you to Raincatcher Gully, where Brayflox and her people have made their home.

Ozun Nazun: What's the hurry, 'venturer? Eh? Somethin' happen over at the gobbie settlement? Ozun Nazun: I dunno why yer so eager to help a bunch of beastmen, but go an' talk to the skipper over yonder. She'll ferry ye to Raincatcher Gully.

Brayflox Alltalks: Pshhh... Shkohhh...
Tongueflaps of Wheiskaet be reaching ears of Brayflox. Uplander is come for tastyfresh gobbietreats, yes? Brayflox Alltalks: Questprize of uplander deep in Longstop. Flighty-beast chased gobbieflock from homes. Gobbieflock needs goodly uplander give safety to Longstop with much hand-lending!

Brayflox's Longstop

After a tiring journey across Eorzea, it is deep within the quiet jungles of Raincatcher Gully where the charismatic and enterprising young goblin, Brayflox Alltalks, chooses to build her tiny empire. What she does not realize, however, it that something else—something sinister—has also made the lush forest its home. Now driven from their rightful(?) claim, Brayflox and her brethren seek to retake the land, and are not above asking the help of lesser races (that would be you) to help them do so.

Scion Thaumaturge: Let's get going. We have to help them!

Goblin Pathfinder: Shkoh! Shkoh! Gobbieflock in danger! Uplanders take gatekey! Open Headgate!

Scion Marauder: I pray we're not too late.

Brayflox Alltalks: Shkoh! Shkoh! More fastness! More fastness! Brayflox Alltalks: Shkoh! Brayflox shall see to thunderfoot! Brayflox Alltalks: Gobbie...boom? Scion Conjurer: I was expecting Brayflox to be more...helpful.

Scion Conjurer: Well, at least now the way forward is open.

Scion Thaumaturge: The dragon! It won't escape this time!

Brayflox Alltalks: Pshhh... Shkohhh...
Goodly uplander has thanks of gobbieflock! Brayflox Alltalks: Flighty-beast was tricksy foe, but uplander outwitted with plansmaking. Uplander has goodly head for fighty-think. Brayflox Alltalks: Brayflox happygives tastyfresh gobbietreats to clever uplander! Brayflox Alltalks: Cheese is stinkysweet gobbietreat! Specialmake with secret gobbiearts! Brayflox Alltalks: No party complete without gobbie gouda, Brayflox everysay!

Wheiskaet: <sniff> <sniff> ...I gather you solved Brayflox's little problem?

Goblin Cheese The pungent odor of this hard yellow cheese veined with blue-green mold is most comparable to the warm, damp boot of a zombie after stepping in ripe chocobo dung. Goblins claim it is a delicacy, but then again, they have their masks to filter out the aroma.

Wheiskaet: By the gods, that unholy stench! This is─ugh─definitely goblin cheese. Wheiskaet: Judging from the smell, this should be quite flavorful. Wheiskaet: Hm? How is it made? Ah...it's best you remain ignorant of such things. I still remember when I learned what kind of milk they use... <shudder>

What Do You Mean You Forgot the Wine Wheiskaet would like to congratulate you on a job well done.

Wheiskaet: Bravo, Forename. Thanks to you, our guests shall be honored with a marvelous banquet. Wheiskaet: But what good is an exotic feast without an equally exquisite aperitif? Wheiskaet: Luckily, I know just the person to ask. Make your way to Wineport and seek out Shamani Lohmani, another former member of the Company. Wheiskaet: All you have to do is give him this order slip. He'll take care of the rest. Wheiskaet: Oh, and if you're wondering if this is merely a ploy to test your patience, I assure you I do actually need that wine. And while you're there, give Shamani Lohmani my regards.

Shamani Lohmani: ...Sweat, grime, and blood. Aye, you reek of blood. An adventurer, unless I am mistaken. What brings you to Wineport?

Aperitif Order Slip An order made out to Wineport vintner Shamani Lohmani.

Shamani Lohmani: An order? Let me guess─a request for the finest vintage I can muster. Shamani Lohmani: <sniff> <sniff> The paper smells of loam and perfume. Costa del Sol. And there is also the─<cough>─unmistakable odor of goblin cheese... Shamani Lohmani: Yes, Master Gegeruju would not settle for anything less than the best. Dyrstweitz and his crew must be quite busy preparing an exotic feast, hence his decision to rely on an adventurer. Shamani Lohmani: Ah, but perhaps you are confused. This display of deduction was not intended to impress you. Shamani Lohmani: When one loses his vision, he is forced to compensate in other ways. But you've no interest in my affairs─you wish only to discuss the wine, I suspect.

An Offer You Can Refuse Shamani Lohmani would like to discuss wine with you.

Shamani Lohmani: Life can be so delightfully unpredictable. I always had a passion for wine, but it wasn't until I was forced to retire that I could pursue it as more than a mere hobby. Shamani Lohmani: It wouldn't have been possible if not for the savings I amassed during my time as a mercenary, of course. Say what you will about the nature of that work─none can deny that it pays well. Shamani Lohmani: Ah, but you grow impatient, and Wheiskaet must have his wine. Herein lies the problem: nothing in my possession is of sufficient quality for this occasion. Shamani Lohmani: The best vintages in town are hoarded by Byrglaent, who owns and operates the largest winery in Vylbrand. Shamani Lohmani: Somehow, I doubt he will be receptive to your request, but given these circumstances we must needs beg his assistance.

Byrglaent: What rank amateur bottled this wine? The impurities have rendered it nigh undrinkable. Dismissal is too good for the man responsible─he should be made to drink every drop of his polluted swill! Byrglaent: What is it? I am in the middle of an important discussion, and I do not care for interruptions.
Hm? That neophyte vintner bid you speak with me? Hah! Byrglaent: Neither you nor your friend has the palate to appreciate the subtle qualities of my private stock. Byrglaent: I would sooner serve you goobbue urine than sell you my worst vintage. Begone from my sight.

Shamani Lohmani: I take it he said no?
...Really, in those words? Hm, well, I cannot say that I am surprised. Shamani Lohmani: While there's no denying his passion and skill, the Wine Baron of Limsa Lominsa is not a man known for his tact. Shamani Lohmani: Very well. We shall have to take an alternative approach.

It Won't Work Shamani Lohmani has another bright idea.

Shamani Lohmani: There is a chance, however small, that another resident of Wineport can furnish us with a suitable wine. In fact, had you come several years ago, I guarantee this would not be a problem. Shamani Lohmani: Alas, the quality of our product has declined significantly in recent years. The only breeds cultivated these days are common lowland vines. Which isn't to say that their grapes are of poor quality─only that we have known better. Shamani Lohmani: Long ago, the vignerons of Wineport crossbred several species, and produced a grape-bearing vine of never-before-seen quality. Shamani Lohmani: Bacchus grapes were once the pride of this town, as they were used to produce vintages which surpassed all others. Shamani Lohmani: This includes the most aromatic, the most complex, the most flavorful of all wines─aye, the legendary Bacchus wines were born right here in Wineport! Shamani Lohmani: Ahem. Pardon my enthusiasm. You see, I once had the privilege to sample that particular wine. Shamani Lohmani: It was an otherworldly experience. In that moment, I felt as though I had tasted the nectar of the gods themselves. I transcended my mortal flesh, and was one with all creation. Shamani Lohmani: <sigh> But, as is all too often said, the Calamity changed that. The Bacchus vineyards were completely destroyed, along with much of the existing stock of Bacchus wine. What little remains is closely guarded by its owners, for it can no longer be made. Shamani Lohmani: If we cannot convince Byrglaent to part with his wines, our next best option─as ridiculous as it sounds─is to find someone who has a bottle of Bacchus wine, and to offer them every gil we can spare. I've heard rumors that one of the vignerons tending the vineyards might have once owned a bottle─perhaps you could start by speaking with them?

Junghbhar: What? Do I have Bacchus wine? I wish! I never had the chance to try it myself. Sorry, friend, but you're a few years too late.

Durim Falurim: Bacchus wine? Bah, don't remind me─used to have a cellar filled with the stuff! Thought I could keep the wine safe from thieves and the elements. Never counted on a bloody primal blowing up my godsdamned house!

Shamani Lohmani: No luck, hm? Most regrettable, but we had to try. Shamani Lohmani: Ahhh, but Bacchus wine would have been perfect for the occasion! Shamani Lohmani: Though, I must confess, my certitude could be due in part to my personal history with the beverage. It is, after all, the very reason I decided to become a vintner. Shamani Lohmani: After Titan blinded me in our battle beneath O'Ghomoro, I fell into a deep depression. It wasn't until I tasted Bacchus wine for the first time that I realized there was still so much I could experience, even in my condition. It helped me to find a new direction in life. Shamani Lohmani: <sigh> It breaks my heart to think that wondrous ambrosia which once filled me with hope may be forever lost to us.

Give a Man a Drink Shamani Lohmani appears to be in deep thought.

Shamani Lohmani: I must say, this talk of Bacchus wine has made me rather nostalgic. Indeed, there is much I miss about my life with the Company of Heroes. Shamani Lohmani: After everything the captain has done for me, I could not bear to disappoint him... Shamani Lohmani: Aye, have no fear. I swear that I shall find a suitable wine for the banquet─though I may need some time to think of a solution. Shamani Lohmani: In the meantime, there is a favor I would ask of you. Shamani Lohmani: Two years ago, in the deepest depths of my despair, I stumbled across Vylbrand as a vagabond drunk. I suspect I was looking for a place to die, because I very nearly found one not far from here. Shamani Lohmani: It was there that a man named Drest took me in and nursed me back to health. And it was he who gave me my first taste of Bacchus wine, which helped me to find my new calling. Though I am still a novice in the arts of winemaking, I would like him to know that I am pursuing my dream. Shamani Lohmani: This wine is my own original creation, and I would be most grateful if you delivered it to him in my stead. Drest sometimes works at the Raincatcher Gully docks, so perhaps Rhitskylt can tell you where to find him.

Rhitskylt: Drest? Oh, you mean the hermit. Aye, I toss him a few gil when we need an extra pair of hands. He doesn't talk about himself, and I sure as hells don't ask. Rhitskylt: When a man's got a face with scars like that, you best leave well enough alone, I say. If you've a mind to find him, though, then head southwest to the Severed String.

Drest: What...what do you want?

Lohmani Rosso Shamani Lohmani's first attempt at winemaking. At least the name sounds legitimate.

Drest: W-Wine? I...I didn't ask for this!
Who sent you!?
I...I... <groan>

That Weight Drest is suffering from extreme duress.

Drest: Can't...can't sleep... They won't let me sleep...the midges... The buzzing...it keeps me awake... Drest: I'm not... I...I never wanted to hurt anyone. I won't fight. I don't want to fight! Drest: Please, make the buzzing stop! Make the midges go away!

Drest: It's not so loud anymore. Did...did you do that? Thank you. You...you helped me. Even after what my comrades and I did to your country... Drest: We were on a reconnaissance mission when the Maelstrom caught us by surprise. We tried to escape, but the others... N-No one else survived. Drest: I didn't ask for this, dammit! I'm not even Garlean! They conquered my lands just like they tried to conquer yours! Drest: I...I don't want to die in some blasted jungle halfway around the world... Drest: I just...I just want to go home...

Battle Scars Drest appears to be in greater control of his faculties.

Drest: I...I wish to thank Shamani for the wine. That...that was overly kind... Would you be willing to bear a gift back to him? Drest: Earlier today at Red Mantis Falls, I collected the sap from nearby palm trees. If...if placed in coconut shells and stored for a few bells' time, it...it makes for a fine wine, see... It should be ready by now. Drest: I left three shells out there. Please, take them to Shamani for me. I'm...I'm glad he's moved on with his life. I hope to one day do the same...

Shamani Lohmani: It has been some time, Forename. What news do you have of Drest?

Palm Wine Sap of a palm tree fermented inside an island coconut shell. Far more potent than wine made from grapes, palm wine, if brewed for too long, can cause loss of eyesight or even death.

Shamani Lohmani: <sniff> <sniff> Ah, yes, I recall he did have some knowledge of winemaking. A simplistic but nevertheless effective method that utilizes the natural properties of palm sap. I shall have to enjoy this batch before it spoils. Shamani Lohmani: We are not so different, Drest and I. Two men who have long struggled not to let our scars define us... Shamani Lohmani: I worry that he has been alone with his thoughts for far too long. Shamani Lohmani: Aye, it is past time I paid him a visit. Thank you for looking after him, Forename.

It Was a Very Good Year Shamani Lohmani is brimming with glee, and he wishes to share the reason why with you.

Shamani Lohmani: By the gods... Forename, listen! I know you're eager to wash your hands of this wine business, but I've just discovered something extraordinary about Drest's palm wine! Shamani Lohmani: He sealed each coconut shell with a leaf─a leaf which has a very distinct shape and unusual odor. I thought I was going mad at first, but now I'm certain: these are the leaves of a Bacchus grape vine! Shamani Lohmani: Do you know what this means? Somewhere in Raincatcher Gully, the legendary vine still grows! If we could obtain a cutting, we could revive the Bacchus wine industry! Shamani Lohmani: We must know where Drest found these leaves! Here, take one of them back to him and see what he remembers!

Drest: Oh...hello again. What is it?

Bacchus Grape Leaf A broad green leaf from a thought-to-be-extinct Bacchus grape vine.

Drest: It's...it's just a leaf, isn't it? I only chose it because it was pretty. Didn't know it was rare... Drest: I found them near the juggernaut to the south. But...I didn't see any grape vines. Drest: I saw fresh goobbue tracks, though. Maybe...maybe the leaves came from vines growing on the back of one such beast? Drest: If...if you go looking for it, please be careful. Some goobbues are more territorial than others, and you may have to defend yourself.

Shamani Lohmani: What did Drest have to say, Forename? Tell me everything!

Bacchus Grape Vine A cutting from a Bacchus grape vine─a variety of sweet wine grape thought to be long extinct.

Shamani Lohmani: Ahaha, I was right! This smell, this texture... I hold in my hands a Bacchus grape vine cutting! Byrglaent: Come now, enough of this nonsense! I've heard talk of your discovery, and I refuse to believe that a common adventurer and a novice vintner could─ Byrglaent: Twelve as my witness, it is a Bacchus grape vine! Where ever did you find this fantastic specimen!? Byrglaent: Wh-What...? You would offer this to me? But why!? Shamani Lohmani: There is none better positioned to reconstruct the Bacchus vineyards than you, Master Byrglaent. You have the resources, the knowledge, and the passion to do so. It would be selfish of me to keep this cutting. Byrglaent: I never knew you cared so deeply about your craft. Thank you, good sir. I will not squander this gift! In just a few years' time, I swear that every tavern across Eorzea will once again be clamoring for a cask of Wineport's legendary Bacchus wine! Shamani Lohmani: Sir, you needn't─ <sniff> <sniff> Wait! The shape of this bottle, the scent of this label... This couldn't possibly be... Shamani Lohmani: A 1547 Bacchus!? But that's impossible! This vintage has not been seen since years before the Calamity! Byrglaent: It was the crown jewel of my personal collection. For years, I debated opening it, wondering if today or tomorrow would be the ideal time. But now I realize that it was never meant for me─it should be savored by the saviors of Wineport, I say! Shamani Lohmani: He has made us an offer we cannot refuse. Master Gegeruju will find no finer wine. Shamani Lohmani: You have forever changed Wineport, Forename. Thank you for your kindness and your generosity. Shamani Lohmani: Ah, but do not permit me to delay you any longer. Pray deliver the wine to Captain Wheiskaet. Shamani Lohmani: Hm? Well, yes, I would very much like to drink it! But I am a patient man. I have faith that one day I shall have another opportunity to taste perfection.

Wheiskaet: Your prolonged absence was beginning to concern me. So, what of the wine I asked you to bring?

Bacchus Wine A vintage wine from the year 1547 of the Sixth Astral Era.

Wheiskaet: Is that...? Seven hells, a 1547 Bacchus! Even I know how rare that is! Wheiskaet: I have to admit, I didn't think you had it in you... But congratulations, Forename. Thanks to you, this will be the most luxurious feast Costa del Sol has seen in years. Wheiskaet: Considering the lengths you went to, I hope our guests appreciate it. Wheiskaet: Speaking of which, your associate arrived a short while ago. She appears to be growing somewhat impatient. Wheiskaet: Perhaps you could tell her that the banquet is about to begin?

In the Company of Heroes Y'shtola is concerned for your well-being.

Y'shtola: ...You have the look of a woman who has been to the seventh hell and back. Y'shtola: That a guest should be expected to supply the victuals for a banquet held in her own honor... And this while the shadow of Titan looms over us all! It beggars belief. Y'shtola: I can only applaud your stoicism. Had I been asked to endure such ignominy, I fear I should have accepted my lot with less grace. Gegeruju: Lady Y'shtola! Lady Surname! Gegeruju: A thousand pardons for this extreme discourtesy! I was wholly unaware of your true identity, madam! Had I known, I would never have permitted my man to subject you to such unspeakable ordeals! ??? (Wheiskaet): Come now, she must have sensed something was amiss. Wheiskaet: You didn't seriously think I would send you running the length and breadth of Eorzea for a banquet, did you? Y'shtola: Spare her your mockery, Captain. Your intent was unclear to me until this moment. And unlike me, Forename has no knowledge of your traditions. Mayhap you would be so good as to enlighten her. Wheiskaet: Aye, aye...fair's fair. There's no sense hiding it any longer. Wheiskaet: We five were chosen by our brothers and sisters, and before the Company of Heroes disbanded, we each swore a solemn oath... Wheiskaet: That any who would follow in our footsteps must be weighed and measured─not by their reputation, but by their deeds. Wheiskaet: Each man would judge these would-be god-slayers by his own criteria. If even one found her wanting, she would be rejected without a second thought. Wheiskaet: But if she proved herself worthy, we swore that we would do our utmost to support her cause. Wheiskaet: The world has ever been full of brave souls eager to give their lives for a righteous cause, but all too few capable of making a difference with their sacrifice. To send wave after wave of hapless adventurers into the jaws of a foe against whom they have no hope of victory is worse than futile. Titan is not one to be challenged lightly, and we will not be complicit in the deaths of the unworthy. Y'shtola: Which is why the five of you deigned to test Forename with such commendable thoroughness. Time well spent, I am sure. But tell us, Captain: what is the assessment of you and your fellows? Landenel: She's a brave one, that much is certain. She willingly walked into the midst of danger, despite my repeated warnings that it could cost her her life. U'odh Nunh: Her skill is undeniable. She stalked her prrrey as relentlessly as any child of the sands, and struck with precision when an opportunity presented itself. Shamani Lohmani: Too many adventurers these days care only for fortune and glory. Forename, however, is a kind and generous soul. I am certain she has no shortage of loyal allies who will gladly fight at her side. Brayflox Alltalks: Pshhh... Shkohhh...
Wily uplander is talentful plansmaker. Tricksy foe for mighty rockman! Wheiskaet: I can only concur with my colleagues' assessments. Wheiskaet: We five of the Company of Heroes hereby judge you a worthy challenger. Cast down the Lord of Crags, Forename Surname, and write a new chapter in the history of Eorzea. Wheiskaet: With the formalities out of the way, let the festivities begin! Summon the dancers, pour the wine! Wheiskaet: Eat, drink, and be merry, my friends, for today we celebrate the birth of a new legend─Forename Surname, Titan's Bane! Company of Heroes: Forename Surname, Titan's Bane!

Bronze-skinned Beauty: Congratulations, sweetling! Now relax and enjoy the show─it's only just begun!

Tasting the exotic feast triggers a divine revelation. In that brief, transcendent moment, you glimpse the true form of reality, comprehend its fleeting nature, and cry out to the heavens in celebration.

Shamani Lohmani: When you face the Lord of Crags, think not of Limsa Lominsa, Eorzea, or anything beyond his chamber. Think only of the men and women by your side. Shamani Lohmani: Fight for them, and they will fight for you. Remember that no great victory was ever achieved alone.

Brayflox Alltalks: Pshhh... Shkohhh...
Goodly uplander must be facing mighty rockman with clever fighty-think. Gobbieflock cannot be coming to rescue this time!

Landenel: Ah, Forename, you brave fool! Promise me that when you meet Titan, you'll look him in the eye and tell him Landenel sends his regards!

U'odh Nunh: You are a veteran of countless battles, Forename. This is but one more. Trrrust in your experience, and you will prevail.

Wheiskaet: You are blessed with a fortitude to rival the earth itself. Titan will struggle to break you, I think.

Y'shtola: ...You are kind to indulge them, Forename. This banquet is as much for the Company as it is for you, whatever they may claim. Y'shtola: I do not deny that they mean well, but now is scarcely the time for celebration. Though they have all but pronounced you the victor, the battle with Titan has yet to begin. The hour has come for the good captain to make good on his promise. We must speak with him again.

As You Wish Wheiskaet truly intends to tell you how you may face Titan this time.

Wheiskaet: You must be eager to face Titan. As promised, we will show you the way. Wheiskaet: Travel to Bronze Lake in upper La Noscea. There you will meet with Riol, another man who once served with the Company. Wheiskaet: To ensure that this knowledge does not fall into the wrong hands, he will remain in hiding until you have given the correct signal. Wheiskaet: Give me your map. You must whistle loudly at the three locations I mark. Only then will he appear to meet you at this fourth location. I realize this may seem excessive now, but you will see that it is more than reasonable once you comprehend the risks inherent in our method.

Riol: Greetin's, lass. Might you be the one the cap'n said would come callin'? Riol: Aye, I thought so. Pay attention, now, 'cause I ain't explainin' meself twice.

Lord of Crags Riol is waiting for you to give him your undivided attention.

Riol: Years ago, when we was weighin' up how to get to Titan, one of our scouts stumbled across this beastman aetheryte, see... Riol: Eh? What's that look for? Not familiar with 'em? Y'shtola: He speaks of an unamplified aetheryte which has been claimed by a beast tribe. Lest you wonder, there is no fundamental difference between such aetherytes and those which you have used on countless occasions, Forename. Riol: Ah, well if it ain't the Sharlayan lass. Welcome back. Y'shtola: Forgive me for interrupting. I had planned to await your report, but I succumbed to curiosity. Y'shtola: The tunnels beneath O'Ghomoro form a bewildering labyrinth that no outsider has ever fully explored. How the Company of Heroes managed to navigate it is a mystery I have long pondered. Riol: Ha! Give us a bit of credit, love! We weren't daft enough to try goin' in the front. Riol: The kobolds are always diggin' new tunnels an' fillin' the old ones with traps. One wrong step, an' the next thing you know, ye've got a hundred tonzes o' rock on your noggin. Suicide to even try, see? Riol: Funny thing was, the kobolds didn't seem to have no trouble findin' their way 'round─an' it was that as got us thinkin'. I mean, U'Ghamaro Mines are like a bleedin' city, ain't they? An' gettin' around in a city that big would be a right pain in the arse if you didn't have an Aethernet, wouldn't it? So it stood to reason that the kobolds must have one, didn't it? Y'shtola: Hm. Even if there were aetheryte shards in the depths of O'Ghomoro, you would have needed to attune yourselves to them before you could identify their signatures within the Lifestream. Riol: Ah, well, that's where yer wrong, love. We had this Sharlayan bloke to help us, see. Delivered us right into Titan's bedchamber, he did. Riol: I don't rightly know how he did it, but I do remember him sayin' it weren't nothin' any Sharlayan scholar worth her salt couldn't manage. Y'shtola: ...Did he now? Hmph.
Locating a beacon in the absence of a known signature might be possible if the aetherytes in question happened to be... Ah, yes. But in order to guide a traveler to said beacon safely, a second party would be required to... Hmmm. Y'shtola: It is possible─in theory at least. Yet I cannot be certain until I try. Plainly, all will depend upon whether or not I am “worth my salt.” Riol: Oh, you are, lass! Don't you worry about that! Have a bit o' faith in yerself! Riol: Why don't we all go to Zelma's Run an' take a closer look at the aetheryte? It ain't far─though there's sure to be a few kobolds blockin' the way. Naught ye can't handle, mind!

Y'shtola: So this is the aetheryte the Company of Heroes used to gain access to Titan's sanctuary. Y'shtola: Hm. It is as Papalymo speculated. Y'shtola: In its present state, this aetheryte's signal will not be strong enough for our purposes. I may, however, be able to use my own energies to amplify it. Alas, the task will monopolize my attention for the duration. Y'shtola: It seems you will