Achiyo is wearing the armour set from The Maiden’s Rhapsody event, which just reran recently but I got it years ago for a SAM glam.
(man these 24-mans still wreck people, even if they don’t completely wipe anymore)
(also wow they put all the effort into the animations for these quests!)
Chapter 74: The Prima Vista
Chuchupa stepped into the central backstage area of the Prima Vista, premier Garlean performing arts airship, and let out a whistle. “Cor, ain’t that Leviabeetus up there? Made o’ wood an’ paper an’ string? Nice!”
“It does appear to be Leviathan,” R’nyath said, looking up at the long snakey figure hanging from the ceiling, ears pricking forward in interest. “Have they done a play about Leviathan?”
“Oh yes, the Lord of the Whorl was a very popular tragedy a few years ago,” Lina Mewrilah said, nodding. “It wasn’t necessarily historically accurate, but it made everyone cry a lot.”
Chuchupa didn’t really care about theatre unless it was funny. Real life was usually just as weird, silly, tragic, or violent, and if it wasn’t, she would make it so. But the lingering scent of wood shavings, glue, and paint, with the addition of the salt breeze outside, put her in mind of Moraby Drydocks, which was always a good thing. “Good thing ‘s up there or I’d try an’ break it. Looks breakable.”
“Please don’t break anything,” Achiyo said mildly, looking around at allllll the other very fragile props. Background paintings and racks of costumes and a huge paper-maché dragon head and drawers of fake jewelry were stowed everywhere around the outside of the room. Also peeping faces; most of the theatre troupe was shy of so many strangers on their ship.
Achiyo herself looked different. She had new armour, made of red laquered wood and metal kind of stitched together, overlaid with a white surcoat that fastened in the front. It looked incredibly Doman, but that just suited her new sword from her dad. “So ye’re gonna try yer new sword when it comes to combat?”
“I will,” Achiyo said, touching the hilt. “I wish to test myself. I realize this means you must act as defender…”
“Aw, no problem there! Me axe is always ready. Oi, Mewrilah, so ye told us who all these people are an’ what they’re doin’ here, but what d’ye need us for?”
Lina Mewrilah, the journalist, hesitated, but was saved the effort. “Allow me to explain,” said a familiar voice, and they turned to see Cid entering the room from the elevator, followed by other familiar faces.
“Cid! We were not expecting to see you on this side of the world,” Achiyo cried. “Yllamse, Kekeniro, Lilidi, R’inwa – I am glad to see you too!”
“No, I suppose not,” Cid said with a smile. The others waved. R’inwa pulled a face at R’nyath, who made a face back. Lilidi was wearing her Steppe clothes with a bulky sling on her front. “It was a long trip, believe me – though far faster than sailing. But Jenomis is an old friend. When Ramza contacted me, I had to put Omega on hold and come at once.”
“You found it?” Vivienne said.
“Oh, yes, a little while ago. But let’s get to business – we can catch up once we’ve laid out the situation and figured out how to find Jenomis.”
There followed a lot of yarn about faerie-tales and legends, which would go down slightly better with some ale at a tavern, Chuchupa reflected, although they did mention auracite and she hadn’t met anyone outside, like, Archons and Students of Baldesion who even knew what that shite was. Though this auracite seemed to be a different thing, or do different things, than the auracite that she knew about. Or maybe none of the Archons had bothered to tell her what else it did besides “suck up Ascians and hold them still for blasting”.
But just when Alma Lexentale seemed about to really get into the weirdness of auracite, somebody stormed into the room. “Alma! Who are these people? I told you I did not require any help finding Father, especially from outsiders.”
Cid turned to him with a smile. “So good of you to join us, Ramza. Allow me to introduce-”
The young man – no, he was a kid trying to look like a man, with even less success than Alphie usually got – interrupted angrily. “Enough, Master Cid! We may be shunned by the Empire, but we are still Garleans, and we still have our pride… unlike some, it seems.” He glared at his sister, who flinched. “We require neither the aid nor the pity of foreign rabble.”
The reactions of the Scions were various – some offended, some amused; Chuchupa was inhaling to ask how he liked continuing to have kneecaps, which might have been counterproductive in hindsight, but Alma rallied first. “Have you forgotten where you are, Brother? It is we who are the ‘foreign rabble’. This land and its customs are all but unknown to us. We would be fools to conduct our search without a proven guide.”
Cid nodded. “Your sister is right, Ramza. As for my good friends here, your mistrust is ill-placed. I will personally vouch for their characters. In all the time I have known them, they have never once let anything as insignificant as race or creed colour their judgement. You’re lucky to have them.”
“That’s right, we’ll work with anyone with whom we have common cause,” Kekeniro said.
“Speak fer yerself,” Chuchupa muttered.
“But we would have you, Master Garlond!” Ramza cried, ignoring them entirely. “Why do you refuse us!?”
“You know why,” Cid said. “I am ready and willing to do all I can, and it pains me that I can do so little, but a posse of expert adventurers will serve you far better in this situation. I am sorry.”
Ramza deflated a bit, though his eyes were still half-lidded and sulky. “You need not apologize. I let my emotions get the better of me… After what happened in Rabanastre, it may be time to admit we’re out of our depth.”
“My brother’s last expedition met with tragedy in the ruins of the capital city,” Alma explained. “He barely escaped with his life.”
Cid frowned at him. “The Empire turned Rabanstre into a death trap. You were a fool to set foot there without a proper escort.”
Ramza glared back with a huff. “I realize that now, Master Garlond, but at the time, I saw an opportunity to rescue our father, and I took it.”
Lina gestured broadly. “Whatever led you to believe your father was in Dalmasca’s capital?”
“My father’s fascination with Ivalician legend began with a trip to the antediluvian city, long before the war,” Ramza said. “Call it a premonition, but something tells me that is where he has returned. Now you must excuse me. I need some time to think.” He turned on his heel and swept away. He really was a bratty teen – worse than Alphie before he got his arse kicked by hubris! And Alma was nice, but she was just a kid, she shouldn’t have to deal with all this responsibility with her dad gone.
“What’s anti-deluge-ian?” Chuchupa asked.
“You’re very close,” Kekeniro said. “‘Before the flood’, or ‘existing prior to the Sixth Umbral Calamity’.”
“Fancy,” Vivienne grunted.
“Then, Alma, I shall leave you and your brother in Achiyo’s capable hands,” Cid said. “As the leader of the Warriors of Light, she has ever repaid my trust with interest. You would do well to grant her yours.”
Alma glanced at Achiyo, who bowed, smiling. Alma managed to smile back. “Thank you, Master Garlond, Lady Achiyo. We will not forget this kindness.”
“Then we are headed to Rabanastre, and hopefully, this Ivalice place?” R’nyath asked.
“Aye, but we must wait for Ramza’s consent,” Cid said. “I’m sure he’ll come around in a minute. So how have you all been?”
The answers he got varied, though largely positive. “Excited!” Chuchupa pitched in. “There’s bound t’ be treasure inna place like that!”
“But what of you?” Achiyo asked. “You said you found Omega?”
“We found a crater – well no, not so much a crater as a massive tunnel bored into the land, in a desolate, uninhabited area in the south-east Fringes,” Cid said. “We’re still doing preliminary investigations, but we’ll let you know if we need martial help, naturally. Though…” He growled and shook his head. “Maybe it’s a good thing to get away from that for a bit.”
“Would have thought that would be your favourite thing,” R’nyath said, putting his taller younger brother in a headlock. R’inwa grumbled and swatted at him. “Is it being frustrating?”
“It’s not that,” Cid said. “It’s… argh. Never mind. Let’s not speak of it.”
Tam leaned over to Vivienne. “It’s your least favourite person after me.”
Vivienne wrinkled her nose. “Makes sense. He did say he was the world’s leading expert on Omega…”
“Anyway, Cid got in touch with the Rising Stones and asked if we wanted to come, he would give us a lift,” Kekeniro said. “Which we need, because our son is still too young to safely Teleport.”
“Your son!” R’nyath cried, abandoning the rough-housing. “Show! Show!”
Lilidi laughed and unwrapped a flap of cloth from the sling tied to her front. Within was the tiniest sleeping Lalafell baby, with dark brown hair. “Rurutegu Kokotegu. He’s not even a moon old. But this was the time to go back to the East.”
“Ultimately, we’re heading out to the Steppe,” Kekeniro said. “Lilidi – and her attendants, Kane and Cent and Cent’s wife and son – will wait in Kugane for us to do this search and rescue, while preparing supplies for the trip. But after that, we’ll be going. It’ll be a nice long walk.” He smiled happily.
All the taller Scions gathered and bent their heads to see. “Oh my gods, he’s so tiny,” R’nyath said. “Look at that teeny nose!”
“He is adorable,” Achiyo said, pressing her hands to her heart.
“I’d die for him,” Vivienne remarked in an off-hand way.
“Me too!” Yllamse said, giggling.
Kekeniro waggled a finger at both of them. “Not the plan. Don’t forget who your tactician is.”
Cid chuckled. “The legendary strategist of the Warriors of Light? That babe is as safe as the stars in the sky.”
“When ye teachin’ ‘im to fight?” Chuchupa asked.
“Not until he is old enough to hold a toy sword, and/or read a book,” Lilidi retorted, frowning at her. “No, you may not teach my newborn how to punch.”
Chuchupa grinned. “Could be handy.”
The baby stirred, cracking startlingly blue eyes. His nose wrinkled, his mouth twisted, and he let out a soft wail.
“Ah, excuse me,” Lilidi said. “I think that means he’s hungry. But we’re still figuring out what all the different kinds of crying mean.”
Kekeniro gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Go on. I’ve got everything covered.”
She kissed him back. “See you soon.”
After a scouting expedition to the outskirts of Rabanastre – which showed extensive battle damage, at a quick glance, and Garlean airship wreckage, and smoke and ceruleum fires still burning within the seemingly-deserted city – the people who decided such things determined that more numbers were needed in the rescue party. Such people definitely didn’t include Chuchupa, she was just there for the fights. And if there was something in the city that had laid waste to it so badly that the Empire couldn’t send in reinforcements… there were going to be some good fights.
But first they needed to find people. Of course they had their basic eight, now plus R’inwa, and Alphinaud and Alisaie volunteered once they heard what the objective was, but they needed far more.
And somehow, they found them. A few friends from Eorzea had blown into town, like Doctor Naomi and Crim, who brought with them Tharash, Khem, and Skaentu. From closer to Kugane, Aghai Kha came from the Steppe. But the least expected reinforcements showed up when Chuchupa turned a corner of the docks and nearly bumped into some very tall black leather boots. She looked up, and up, and up, and there was a black leather jacket over a dark red tunic, and some dark red hair at the top of that. “Reid! What the shite!?”
“What the shite to you too,” the Black Mage retorted, peering down at her past his long freckled nose. “What’s your problem, Chuchupa?”
“What’re ye doin’ so far from Eorzea? An’ not dressin’ like a creepy cultist anymore?”
“Again, I could ask you the same,” Reid said. “My partner wished for adventure, so I followed him. And he picks my clothes now.”
“Ye got hitched?” Chuchupa said. “Nevermind, I don’t care. Ye want adventure have we got some fer ye. And ye’ll do nicely fer us.”
“Oh really?” Reid said. “And I’m not hitched, just committed.”
“Don’t care!” Chuchupa cried defiantly. “Go round up yer crew an’ meet me at the big-arse tower wi’ the airships! We need everyone we can get. I’ll get Kekeniro so’s he can explain it all.”
And about a quarter-bell later, Reid arrived at the base of the tower, with his arm slung around the shoulders of a half-Elezen in a frilly, fancy green pirate coat, with tanned mahogany skin and black hair, a bow on his back and a rapier at his side. He was pretty androgynous, even for a half-Elezen. Behind them were a white-haired, tattooed Duskwight Dark Knight who looked like he was still a teenager, some boring-looking Hyur Dragoon in very draconic armour whose lance was probably compensating for something, and a Lalafell who was painfully White Mage-y, except she wore lavender.
“I recognize ye,” Chuchupa said. “Captain Ali… Al… somethin’… of the Tyrant’s Bane!” She remembered the ship better than the crew; they were fairly new around Limsa. Guess she’d get to see them in action now.
“Captain Alistair, at your service,” said the androgynous pirate, doffing his fancy feathered hat and bowing with a flourish. “Unless I’m wearing blue, in which case it’s Alinore.”
“Ahh, gotcha, gotcha,” Chuchupa said. “I always thought ye were twins. This’s much simpler.”
“It is?” grumbled the dragoon, who got elbowed by the dark knight. Reid shot him a glare, but his shoulders relaxed. The white mage beamed.
“I guess not,” Chuchupa said. “I already got one set o’ twins to keep track of. They also wear different colours to tell ’em apart. And the girl wears a skirt now. But ye – ye got magic clothes or summat? A boatload o’ Fantasias?”
Captain Alistair snorted. “Hardly. I’m not that well-off. That’s Loup, with the big sword, Petrus, with the lance, and Sisina with the wand. Reid said you needed numbers, so here we are.”
“Perfect,” Chuchupa said. “Welcome aboard. How’d ye end up shipping together?”
“Politics,” Reid grumbled at the same time as Alistair said “Revolution!” brightly.
“It’s a long story, and very romantic, mayhap we can tell it when we have a calm moment?” Sisina said.
“Aye, we should probably stay on task,” Petrus said gruffly. Loup grunted.
“Very well,” Alistair said. “Lead on, Captain Chuchupa!”
Meanwhile, Achiyo was walking through the markets – looking for adventurers, yes, but also looking for more treats and trinkets to bring to Eorzea when she inevitably returned.
“Hoi there, my good ijin!” bellowed a voice that was definitely trying to sound deeper than it really was. “I search for a woman named Achiyo Kensaki! She is an Au Ra who wears Western… armour…”
Achiyo turned with some irritation to face the noise; whoever was speaking was really very rude in multiple ways aaaaand he was a young Hyuran samurai and that explained everything. “I am Achiyo.” She did not bow, because he had not bowed. “Why do you seek me?”
“I am Tatewaki no Hiroari, son of Tatewaki no Hiromitsu! My father sent me to find you. What he possibly expects to accomplish, I do not know. Surely there is nothing an ijin girl can teach me.” Tatewaki’s son, hm? His hair was still black with no grey, his eyes were dark and narrow, and his mouth was very full. He wore pale yellow armour, more bulky than her own samurai gear. He was as arrogant as his father, and without the dignity and experience that his father had to make up for it.
“Then I will bid you good day,” she said. She wasn’t going to answer rudeness with more rudeness, but neither would she stand and let a teenage boy flail his ego at her, even if she was acquainted with his father.
When she turned and walked away into the market crowd, the boy’s demeanour cracked and he rushed after her in panic. “Ah – hold on – wait! I still have a letter for you!”
“Very well,” she said, stopping again. “From your father?”
“Y-yes. Um. Here.” He handed it to her with an automatic bow, then stood there awkwardly. “Aren’t you going to read it?”
“Not here,” she said, and gave an inner sigh. “You may accompany me until I reach the park.”
“Yes, you need an escort! I know my father said you are a great warrior, but you’re still a girl and you need an escort!”
Achiyo was silent for a few minutes, until they were out of the market and headed to the quiet little park in the ijin district. It gave her time to put the situation together. “How old are you, Tatewaki-kun?”
“I’m eighteen!” Again he was straining his voice to sound deeper than it really was. “Don’t call me -kun. You must call me -sama!”
He could not demand such a thing of her, who was his elder and social equal. “Tatewaki-kun…” Was he insecure? Trying to impress her? Burdened with a toxic form of Hingan masculinity? All of the above? Why was this making her feel old? “Did your father tell you all of who I am?” He had heard her list of titles in that battle for Yamamatsu.
“He said you were called Silver of Light or something… Liberator of the Second Gong, or something…”
“Or something,” she said dryly. “I will read the letter. Will you wait until I have finished?”
“Very well,” he said airily.
She unfolded the paper and carefully read the Hingan words. “Kensaki no Achiyo, greetings. The winds blow soft in Yamamatsu this season, and with good fortune and the grace of the kami they will have blown my son to you.”
“To be blunt, your appearance in Yamamatsu recently gave me a great deal of thought. My son is of age, and I know his potential, but it cannot be honed here. You have spent your life adventuring, and so you have grown strong – exceedingly strong. My son will not learn true strength here in the village.”
“You are certainly busy with your own duties, to your new kin and your future husband. Yet if you would forgive the imposition, I would ask that you offer my son guidance. He is well-trained in kenjutsu, yet lacks experience and maturity. His own actions in that battle have hardly tempered him and perhaps have even made him overconfident. You need not take it upon yourself to make him your apprentice, but even a brief excursion with a real adventurer may show him how far he still has to go. Had I spent my youth adventuring, would I have done things differently…?”
“Should you be amenable to this, I shall send you my finest, smallest warhorse. A woman of your standing requires a proper mount. I am making offerings for your parents, and I shall continue to do so regardless of your decision. Your nurse Sumi is well. I provide for her as you have asked.”
“Tatewaki no Hiromitsu, Lord of Yamamatsu.”
She folded the note. It was a request, nothing more, from someone she was not beholden to – though he was quite generous, to make offerings for the souls of her parents, if that was on her behalf. Perhaps he was doing it for his own conscience. The horse was a bonus she didn’t really want or need, though she knew how expensive such a gift was. But her first impressions of the boy were not favourable, and he might be more trouble than he was worth to take on this mission.
But the father had asked, and she did not hate him. How to sell this arrangement to his son? “Tatewaki-kun. What did your father charge you with when you left Yamamatsu?”
“That I was to deliver this letter to you, and ask if you would instruct me in becoming a true warrior.” He scoffed. “Why you? Why not a real samurai from Bukyo?”
Good question. “You will only learn about samurai from a samurai,” she mused. “From an adventurer you will learn many things – things that will make you not only a better warrior, but a wiser person.”
He scoffed again. “I am fine. I only need experience in battle!”
“You really are quite disrespectful,” she said mildly. “I am a samurai’s daughter, if nothing else. The fact that my father died and your father was put in his place does not negate that. And in case you couldn’t tell, I am older than you.”
He flinched and rubbed a paving stone with his toe awkwardly. “I… apologize… Kensaki. Kensaki-san.”
Better. ‘Dono’ would have been best, but at least he hadn’t gone for ‘chan’. “I am bound to embark on a mission to rescue a missing man from the city of Rabanstre, which appears to have been attacked by the Empire. We can always use more help; however, you will have to work with adventurers from across the star, and you must obey the orders of our tactician, or else someone may die – perhaps even you. Do you understand?”
“Of course I do!” he said flippantly. She fixed him with a Look. “Er… yes. Yes, I think so. …Er, of course you need my help! We shall easily rescue this missing man if I am there! You shall take me with you.”
She frowned at him. “We do not know what we will find in Rabanastre. …I should like to spar with you before our tactician, that he may know your strength.” Or whether they should bring him at all.
He bought that hook, line, and sinker. “Of course! And then you shall put me in the forefront!” He raised a clenched fist with exuberant determination.
They would not. “Come, then. We cannot spar where the Seikiseigumi can see us. They will not understand.”
Even Lina Mewrilah had found another hand for the expedition – a Doman woman named Li Mei, who claimed to be an ‘archaeologist’; Chuchupa took a minute to remember the Sons of Saint Coinach, they were the same thing, right? And she claimed she could fight, gesturing to some weird poles with handles at her sides; she called them ‘tonfas’.
“Well, I think that’s a good number,” Kekeniro said, looking over the group from the top of a stepladder in the Tiring Room. “Let’s see, we’ll have Vivienne, Chuchupa, and Loup defend each party. Then… hm. Aentfryn, R’nyath, Alphinaud, Doctor Naomi, and Sisina… we’re still short a healer. Does anyone have experience with healing magic?”
“I will not need healing!” Hiroari cried. “The son of Tatewaki never needs healing!”
“You will with an attitude like that,” Alisaie muttered.
Yllamse immediately put up her hand. “I’ll do it! I have a Scholar job stone!”
“Wait, Yllamse!?” R’nyath exclaimed, nearly dropping his astrologian’s globe where he was idly spinning it. “You never said you can heal?”
Yllamse shrugged, while pulling out a book and casting; a lavender-orange fairy popped out of the aether and swirled around her. Eos flew to the new fairy and grabbed his hands, and they both did a little dance. “You never asked. This is Vesper!” She looked at the stares sheepishly. “I thought you knew I was a summoner?”
“That doesn’t mean much,” Aentfryn said, folding his arms. “Just that you know how to read.”
“Yelena, what else do you know how to do?” Kekeniro asked.
Yllamse counted on her fingers. “Oh, I can do most things… I like to keep busy, you know!”
“Ye mean ye’re easily distracted,” Chuchupa said.
“That too!” Yllamse said, grinning. “Anyway, I can definitely heal for you guys.”
“Okay, give me a minute to figure out assignments,” Kekeniro said. “How long until we reach Rabanastre?”
“About half a bell,” Alma said, who had been watching all the adventurers in awe.
“Plenty of time,” Kekeniro mumbled, scribbling notes into his grimoire.
Chuchupa’s healers ended up being Naomi and Alphinaud, which meant of course that Crim and Alisaie were also part of her team; Achiyo, Tam, and Hiroari made up the rest. It was an almost perfect crew! Except they had to babysit this bratty little lordling who just wanted to show off for Achiyo and boss people around. Chuchupa wanted to lock him and Ramza in a small room and see who exploded first.
Speaking of Ramza, he was going to tag along behind with Lina. Chuchupa hoped they both stayed out of the way. Neither of them had any combat experience, though Ramza was trying hard and futilely to hide it. But he was definitely an actor, not a fighter, and fighting was not a place to ‘fake it until you make it’. Lina was definitely going to listen to Kekeniro, but Ramza didn’t like Kekeniro, and he didn’t like Lina, so who knew what he was going to do?
They landed just outside the main gates, where a worn trail across the desert sands turned into a paved road. The desert was very much like the Sagolii… just as golden, just as sandy, just as much relentless sun. Chuchupa did not care for it. Ahead, the main wall rose – brightly coloured, ornate, and full of holes. Smoke still rose from the city behind.
“So this is Rabababa,” she said. “Huh. Jewel o’ the Desert an’ all that.”
“Rabanastre,” Alphinaud corrected her, and Chuchupa snickered. He didn’t come into the field with them that often, he didn’t know not to take the bait!
“Rubblebubble,” she answered, and Alphinaud inhaled and got pinched by Alisaie, who always was quicker on the uptake.
They set foot on the bridge and immediately a giant icy thing swirled up before them, blocking their path. “Something foul prevents our crossing,” Ramza called from the back of the group. “Ware its numbing breath!”
“What, ye ran into this when ye came here?” Chuchupa demanded before streaking forward to slam her axe into the… creature. It was like… a mermaid doing some BDSM thing, with extra hands to wield a giant spear? After a brief, befuddled glance, she paid its appearance no mind. Chopping its tail up and dodging that spear were her top priorities. Man if that lancer Petrus were compensating for something, this thing was overcompensating for something.
“Yes, I barely escaped alive from this very creature,” Ramza answered… from very far back. Good boy.
“Okay, numbing breath,” Kekeniro said. “Healers, that may or may not mean we’ll need a lot of Esuna!”
“You do not fear me? You will!” cried the thing, and attacked.
“Haha! I fear nothing!” Hiroari the samurai boy cried and jumped in front of Chuchupa, Vivienne, and Loup. Was he an idiot!? That thing ought to be scary! Chuchupa just didn’t find it scary because she was crazy!
“Hiroari!” Achiyo exclaimed. “You do not stand where the defenders stand! Get behind me!”
“What the hells do you think you’re doing, Achiyo you sodding idiot!?” Vivienne yelled at her. “Godsdammit you’re not a defender today!”
“Hey! Don’t ye yell at Princess, she’s doin’ ‘er best!” Chuchupa yelled back at Vivienne. Achiyo flushed and moved back away from the defence line; shocked, Hiroari moved with her.
“Everyone, cut the noise!” Kekeniro yelled at all of them as the screams began to erupt from the group as the monster attacked back. “Deal with it later! Focus!”
Fighting with such a big group, half of whom had never worked together before, was a challenge. At least in the Labyrinth of the Ancients, or on the Void Ark, their groups had fought bunches of little monsters and gradually learned to coordinate that way. Nope, here they were in at the deep end, fighting a big monster who was sending spirals of ice flirting across the broad bridge. There were way too many people bumping into each other, throwing off each other’s attacks, and running around like frighted chickens as giant icicles rained from above. Hey, at least the chill was kind of nice as the sun beat down upon them.
Then Reid gave a weird cry and turned into a snowman.
They needed a breather after that fight. Several people were half-frozen, a lot of people were still hacking up poison from their lungs, and half the group had been knocked unconscious at least briefly at one point or another. “We’re going to be here all day,” Vivienne groaned, cracking her back as she peered through the gates that stood open before them.
R’nyath smirked at her. “You’re just mad that you’re wearing black in the desert.”
“This is what we signed up for,” Alisaie said. “My goodness, but that was intense, even for what we normally get up to.”
R’nyath bowed to her. “And thank you kindly for your assistance in getting knocked-out folks back on their feet. Really helps me save my mana for taking care of the other injuries.”
“You’re welcome,” Alisaie said.
Alphinaud coughed a bit. “Yes, though I can’t help but worry every time you charge in to stab the monsters.”
“Deal with it, Brother,” Alisaie said tartly. “I pick my timing judiciously.”
Alphinaud held up his hands placatingly. “You have not been in trouble in this fight, I know. But I can’t help it.”
Alisaie’s face softened. “I know I’ve given you cause to worry in the past. But you don’t have to be so protective.”
“For one thing, it ain’t gonna change a thing,” Chuchupa put in. “Alisaie’s a lass after me own heart.”
“Is that another person trying to tell me I’d make a good pirate?” Alisaie grumbled under her breath. Ha, after Carvaillain and that Confederate guy, Tansui? Alisaie should just give up and become a pirate. Did she like sailing?
At least Ramza was grudgingly starting to change his tune about them. Nobody had died, after all, thanks to Kekeniro yelling at them, but Chuchupa didn’t want to know how Ramza had tried to face that monster the first time, or how he’d gotten away. Well, she did, but only if he made up at least half of it.
They entered the city, and while they encoutered some weird lizard-folk, whom Ramza called ‘Seeq’, the place looked deserted otherwise. No citizens, and while there were ruined Imperial airships everywhere, there was no sign of living Imperials either. Some kind of big battle had wrecked everything.
And yet it was plain that this place had been beautiful and prosperous. The bright colours, the carven stones, the mosaic-covered plazas, the broad streets and the high apartment buildings, anyone could see how this place was called the Jewel of the Desert. It was probably nicer even than Ul’dah. Except now it was a smoking, empty ruin. That part sucked!
They came to another great big plaza, right before a beautiful palace, and here another strange creature awaited them. “Without order, creation is doomed to descend into chaos,” it proclaimed. “I am Hashmal. I bring that order. You will kneel.” Hiroari tried to charge ahead and Chuchupa heard a “hurk” as he got Rescued back behind the defenders again. When was that boy going to learn?
It was like… a man? With goat feet? And a goat head? And instead of arms, gigantic weapons the size of its body. Chuchupa was actually kind of okay with Kekeniro making Vivienne go to the front on this one. At least for the time being. “I’ll have an order,” she muttered to herself. “An order o’ hashbrowns.”
But her attempts to dice him up were complicated. “Gah!” Vivienne cried as stone ripped through the armour of her leg. “He hits hard!”
“Oh, right, I’m the healer,” R’nyath squawked, hastily doing something other than throwing cards at everyone.
“Not what I want to hear!” Vivienne yelled at him. Man, she was just in a bad mood today. It was probably the heat. Chuchupa thought R’nyath was hilarious.
“I don’t normally heal under these circumstances!” R’nyath wailed. “I’m doing my best!”
“We need all the heals we can get!” Naomi cried. “We can’t keep up!” Nearby, Aentfryn cursed in agreement.
“Watch your feet!” Kekeniro bellowed. “He’s got control of the ground!” Adventurers surged away from the affected areas, tripping over each other in their haste. The samurai boy, Hiroari, was very slow to react, and she saw him flinch in pain as he got hit. The earth itself seemed to punch up at him. Alphinaud managed to throw a heal on him as he got himself to safety, and Naomi Rescued him back into the group. A building nearby crumbled as the magic went wild.
Then Hashmal took to the sky, one of his arms covered in flames, and the screaming intensified.
“What made these monsters!?” Khem exclaimed when they were finished with that one, taking another big rest under the shade of some tattered palm trees. “By the Twelve, they’re far more fearsome than anything we’ve fought before!”
“I think Nidhogg and Shinryu were worse,” R’nyath said. “But yeah, with you guys? Even the Cloud of Darkness and Diabolos are getting a run for their money here.”
“At least we can explain why the city’s bloody empty,” Tharash said, shading his eyes and gazing out at it. “They tore up all the Imperials, and I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to live in a city getting blasted by such creatures. If I were a normal person.”
“You wouldn’t leave your books,” Khem teased his friend.
“I wouldn’t,” Tharash answered. “I have a Holding satchel specifically for books. I can fit my entire library in there.”
“Impressive,” Yllamse said. “Given that I sent you so many bookshelves.”
“Maybe you sent him too many bookshelves,” Skaentu the Roegadyn mage said. “Doesn’t mean he had to fill them all with books.”
Yllamse giggled. “Oh, probably. But they were fun to make.”
“But really, what do you think caused the monsters?” Lina asked, popping up, notebook at the ready.
Tharash peered at the notebook. “No comment.”
“Nein, not enough data,” Khem said. “It could be any number of things – horrific alchemical experiments, a summoning from another dimension, or just plain old transformation magic.”
“Oh, all right,” Lina said. “Well, when you’ve narrowed it down a bit, please let me know! The story won’t be complete without it!”
“First we should worry about surviving the story,” Aentfryn said. “Drink your water.”
“Then what are we waiting for!?” Hiroari cried. “Let us continue!”
“Sit down,” Achiyo told him, with far greater patience than Chuchupa had left for his shenanigans. “What haste are you in? We stand a better chance of not dying to future battles if we rest now.” Hiroari plonked himself down, sulking.
After about half a bell, properly rested and hydrated, they headed up the street towards the palace that stood at the heart of the city. And just before its gates, the blast-scarred cobblestones beneath them cracked, groaned, and gave way. All twenty-six of them went plummetting into the depths.
The screams garbled at the bottom as they plunged into deep water. Chuchupa dogpaddled frantically; despite being a pirate, and having the Kojin blessing, she was not the strongest swimmer. But there was Alphinaud, and he’d been knocked out cold by the impact. He’d drown unless she flipped him over!
Luckily, no one had really landed on anyone else, and the light from above showed a shallow spot up ahead. Chuchupa grabbed one of Alphinaud’s arms, found Achiyo grabbing the other even as she also hauled Hiroari along by the scruff of his neck, and together they tugged him along with his face in the air. Alisaie swam up easily and helped push.
“What is this place?” Li Mei, the archaologist, said in wonder, looking around at the towering walls around them.
Ramza hauled himself out, coughing and shivering. “Welcome to the Garamsythe Waterway. These tunnels are said to have existed since before even the Kingdom of Dalmasca was born. As the city grows, channels are widened, and new outlets dug. I would venture that some of the pools are so deep, no one alive has ever seen their bottoms.”
“Heheh, bottoms,” Chuchupa said. Ramza glared. Lina shook herself off, accidentally – or ‘accidentally’? – spraying water on him, and he glared some more, stalking away from the group in high dudgeon.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Alisaie!?” R’nyath exclaimed, casting a heal on Alphinaud.
“Yes, but it’s a secondary thought to waking up my brother right now,” Alisaie said, patting her twin’s back. Alphinaud blinked awake and retched, coughing up a small amount of water. “There you are.”
“My thanks,” Alphinaud rasped. “That was… unexpected.”
They collected themselves and moved on. The paths split; one led underwater. Kekeniro reorganized the teams briefly in order to put the seven Kojin-blessed together, and split the group to explore the waterway.
Chuchupa was in the swimming group, of course, and came up into a vast chamber dimly lit by filtered sunlight and magitek lamps. “Wow,” Alisaie said, looking up at the distant ceiling, and down into the shadowed depths, and at all the aquaducts and pillars that crisscrossed the space horizontally and vertically. It looked like a city beneath the city. It was big enough to fit the Vault into, probably, Chuchupa couldn’t see the bottom. It was beautifully built, too, even where there was exposed machinery there were decorative flourishes, and the entire structure was covered in glossy green-blue tiles, and metal gratings formed with artistic angular patterns. Whoever constructed this had taken pride in it, and well they should.
“Whooo!” they heard distantly, echoing around the endless chamber, and saw R’inwa hooting from a higher platform not far away.
“Tralalalala, lalala, lalala,” R’nyath sang back, and R’inwa looked for him and made a gesture that might have been rude, but it was far enough away that Chuchupa couldn’t tell.
“Everything still works in this place,” Aentfryn said. “I hope nothing we do ends up trashing it.”
“Sure, but for now, let’s get moving,” Vivienne said. “R’inwa’s group is over there. I also see Lina waving over there with her group. We can probably meet up with them.”
“And then we must find a way back up,” Achiyo said. “Jenomis is surely not down here.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kekeniro said, reaching out with his hand to read the aether… or something. “Ramza said this place is older than Dalmasca. To me, it seems likely Jenomis might have been trying to get here.”
“Ah, very well… I had not thought of that.”
“Ye were just thinking of gettin’ back on track,” Chuchupa said. “Since we didn’t expect to fall underground so sudden.”
“So, this way, then?” Aentfryn said, gesturing.
They all met together on a walkway at the opposite end of the chamber from where they had entered. Here the walkway was broken, and there was a huge hole blown into the wall, and water poured through it out of the waterway.
“So… now what?” Reid asked, though it was more to Captain Alistair than to Kekeniro or Achiyo.
“You’re the clever one,” Alistair said back.
“I think we ought to check this out,” Naomi said. “My treasure senses are tingling. And where there’s treasure, we’ll probably find the guy we’re looking for!” Crim nodded.
“Do we just… jump in?” Sisina asked doubtfully.
Tam sighed. “Why would anyone do that?”
“‘Coz it looks like fun,” Chuchupa said. “Last one on the slip’n’slide’s a barnacle bucket!” She jumped in without waiting for Kekeniro, then realized that might have been a bit impetuous, even for her. Well, no turning back now! The stream was swift, and deep enough not to dash her against any rocks, and the walls were actually pretty smooth – had this been a water channel all along, and whatever made a hole in the wall had just reconnected it?
If any of the others groaned or shouted at her, she was too far distant to hear it already.
The waterway spit her out at the top of a towering waterfall, and she was caught between two thoughts – one was that there was some kind of ancient-looking structure up ahead, and it looked neat illuminated in sunlight, and the other was that if there were rocks at the bottom here… she hoped somebody had Raise ready, because she wasn’t going to get her manacutter out in time.
But she didn’t splat on any rocks, there was another deep pool at the bottom, and the current slowed to virtually nothing, so she was able to crawl out and gaze around at the scene before her. Oh, maybe she should call the others on the mission linkshell. “Hey, ye can come down! There’s a pool to break yer fall at the bottom, and I think a bunch o’ ye are gonna want to see this. Or ye can fly, if yer name is Tam.”
“I’ll do that, thanks,” Tam said dryly.
“Whee!” said Yllamse, followed by a splash. At least someone else was taking her up on swimming down.
A few moments later, adventurers came whizzing over the waterfall. Some of them screamed, some of them laughed. R’inwa did a flip. Tam came flying in with Alphinaud and Ramza on his black chocobo.
One by one they dragged themselves out of the water, assembled on the road next to Chuchupa, and gazed ahead at the ruins before them. They were still in a giant cave, but they stood upon a broad paved road with a plaza before them. All about them, in symmetrical, carefully planned rows, were towering buildings. There was a natural-looking hole in the ceiling, and sunlight glowed in, the sky overhead smouldering like a sheet of flame.
“These ruins…” breathed Ramza, too awed to be grumpy. “We are no longer in Rabanastre, my friends. This is Lesalia. The Lesalia of Ivalician legend!”
“Ah, so your dad is almost definitely here, then,” R’nyath said. “Good! We’re getting close!”
“Incoming!” Loup the Dark Knight cried, pointing at yet another huge monster-beast descending upon them from above. “That must be what knocked the hole in the wall above!”
This one looked like a horse-drawn chariot, except the horse, chariot, and driver were all one being, and with a big long lizard tail tacked on the back. Like a centaur with a mobility aid. Chuchupa snickered to herself.
“Hark! What army marches on Rofocale’s demesne?” demanded the monster, brandishing shield and a very long sword. “Ill fortune befall all who dare gaze upon me!”
“Sod off!” Chuchupa called with glee. “We beat up your little friends, now we beat you up too!”
“Where there’s a pot, there’s a kettle,” Tharash muttered.
“Right then,” Kekeniro said. “Get him before he gets us.” Chuchupa charged.
There was… slightly less screaming this time around. The group was starting to mesh. People were figuring out what to do without Kekeniro even yelling at them to do it. Achiyo seemed to have gotten the hang of not being in the spot that she was in every other single fight they’d ever been in, and Hiroari seemed to be paying proper attention this time. Although a bunch of people got knocked out after the charioteer took off in a figure-eight, running over basically everyone, crushing bones and sending bodies flying. Then, Chuchupa heard cursing from the healers as a collective.
The next time he did that, though, she saw the new Dragoon had jumped on him and was holding on for dear life. “Heh, he’s gonna take ye for a ride, baby!” she told him.
“I’ve had worse,” Petrus called, backflipping off.
“He’s training to become a dragonrider!” Sisina told everyone.
“That’s an option?” Crim asked.
“Now that dragons are not at war, sure,” Sisina said. “If you’re lucky enough to make friends with them.”
“Focus!” Kekeniro called. “Don’t get complacent! Alistair, get ready to run!”
“Understood,” Alistair said, firing Repelling Shot and turning to sprint around the outside of the plaza. Bright flashes followed him, but did not touch him.
Rofocale retreated to the air, pursued by a few stray arrows and spells, fire trailing from his hooves and wheels. A blaze of glory shone from him as he raised his long sword high, and a rush of aether blasted them. Chuchupa felt the blaze wash over her, but the healers’ shields held firm.
“Time for the final push,” Vivienne said. “Finish him!”
They didn’t need so long of a rest after that, though people were getting tired in general. They’d been here the entire day, and every single fight had been a grueling battle to the death. “I hope Master Jenomis is all right,” Khem said, gazing at the ruins around them. “To be in this place while these creatures are rampaging around…”
“Shh,” Skaentu said. “Even if Ramza is a jerk, don’t make him worry more.”
“He’s probably already thinking about it,” Crim said, shrugging.
“Are we all well?” Achiyo asked from the head of the group. “I would rather press on until we find our goal. We must be very close.”
“Appreciated,” Ramza said. “I was wrong to doubt your participation, to mistrust Cid and my sister’s judgement. There is no one better to lead this operation.”
Achiyo bowed to him. “I thank you for your grace. We shall continue to put forth our best efforts.”
“Yeah, yeah, so hurry up!” Chuchupa said, beckoning them on. “Ye said we were goin’!”
“Don’t mind Chuchupa,” Achiyo said. “She is eager to see if there is anything else to fight.”
“Hey!” Chuchupa paused to let the fake indignation build up. “It’s true!”
“Man, imagine doing this without Kekeniro, though,” R’nyath said, nodding to their strategist. “No thanks! I’m very glad you guys were able to make it.”
“Yes, I’m glad to be of use,” Kekeniro said cheerfully. “This has been quite challenging. But I’m succeeding in my goals!”
They came to another plaza, a square one now, right below the opening in the cave ceiling. The sky was clouded over, but bright. And below the light there lay a body.
“Father!” cried Ramza. But their attention was taken by another figure who stepped into the light.
This new man smiled at them in a sinister fashion. “It is to be a fight, then? I am only too happy to oblige!” He raised a chunk of auricite and began to glow. Aether swirled around him, absorbed into the stone.
“I don’t understand how he came to that conclusion,” Alphinaud said. “At no point did we say we wanted to fight. We only just arrived.”
“Oh come on, we fought everythin’ else in our way,” Chuchupa. “And clearly he wants to fight! I like ‘im!”
“He’s a horrible villain,” Lina said in horror. “Cruel and murderous!”
“Oh. Well, this time he’ll meet his match,” Chuchupa said. Trying to look on the bright side from accidentally eating her foot.
The light swelled and stabilized, and then there stood… a thing before them. It was shaped like a man, but it was made of metal and had way too many bits and blades – floating, detached from each other. “What in the seven hells?” she said. “Well okay then! I’ll fight ye whatever ye look like!”
“Who dares disturb the slumber of Argath Thadalfus, rightful king of Ivalice?” asked the creature in a booming, distorted voice.
“We are adventurers, who seek to rescue the man behind you,” Achiyo answered. “I know you have transformed yourself to fight us, but we do not need to fight.”
“Don’t we?” Alisaie said. “He’s in our way, he’s ready for a fight, and we were just told he’s a murderous bastard.”
The enormous figure pointed its right set of swords at Ramza, its eyes burning flames. “Descendants of House Beoulve? Then by my sword shall I banish your souls to the deepest hell!”
Despite being temporarily turned into a chicken, or maybe because of being temporarily turned into a chicken, Chuchupa enjoyed fighting Addle-fuss best of all the fights that day. Dodging sharp things and dealing with his weird Simeon Says magic made things interesting. And watching Achiyo slice him up with a thousand cuts of her katana was pretty sick.
After Argath crumpled, aether pouring from his broken robot form, and the chunk of auracite that powered him plinked to the ground, Chuchupa turned away. Achiyo and the responsible ones could deal with that. “Right then, mission accomplished. Time to look for treasure!”
“Aye, let’s go!” Naomi said. “Come on, Crim!”
“Shall we have a look?” Alistair said to Reid, who grunted.
Most of the adventurers split off and ran into the city, hotly pursued by Li Mei, yelling about ‘historical significance’ and ‘disturbing the evidence’.
Though when a strange airship flew by, filled with chortling Bangaa, Chuchupa figured something was up and they were probably needed again. Whereupon it turned out that the bandits had stolen the auricite by taking Jenomis hostage. But at least they had the guy back! And he was badly dehydrated and bruised. It was time to return to the Prima Vista.
Rinala held the pose under the spotlight, arms outstretched over her head, one leg raised behind her almost over her head in the other direction, until the music told her it was time to change. She wore her blue Thavnarian silks, enhanced by a veil over her hair and a veil over her lower face; now she looked even more exotic and mysterious than before, even for Ul’dah. Where they currently were, putting on a performance at the Gold Saucer. They’d come from Stonesthrow the day before, and they’d visit Little Ala Mhigo the day after. She spun, core tight to do a gravity-defying back-bend in the middle of it, and heard whistles.
Apparently her dances were very popular. She even had her own dedicated fans, just like Ranaa and the band. She might feel blank, but everyone said that her dances were exquisitely sad, full of such an overwhelming melancholy that everyone wept cathartically to see it. Or something. It was bringing good crowds and plenty of gil, so that was good. She was skilful enough to help, and that was what mattered.
She’d learned a lot over the last while with Troupe Falsiam, new steps and gestures and choreography, honed and refined far beyond what she would be able to do on her own. She sensed battle movements in a lot of it, especially the fast, passionate steps that Ranaa excelled in. But it wasn’t overt, and no one had actually asked her to fight anything, and Nashmeira let her dance these slow, expressive dances in the shows.
The Warriors of Light had stopped visiting, even Yllamse, and F’lhaminn had told her that it wasn’t because of her, they were dealing with political things in the Far East. She missed them, even if politics were more important than her. But the troupe were doing their best. She hoped she wasn’t too much of a burden on their time and goodwill.
She ended the dance, reaching up to the dome above her with one arm, then swirling her veil around her, using Shukuchi and En avant to vanish from the stage. Gasps and cheers followed her. Briefly, she stepped from the shadows at the back of the stage again, bowed, and then retreated.
If she were well, she would love this. It would be thrilling and she would be filled with joyful satisfaction at another show done well. The music picked up again for Ranaa’s last dance, and if she were well, she would dance along to it privately. Or maybe publicly. If she were well, she and Ranaa would do a lot more duets. But instead, she was looking forward to her shower and going to sleep at the Quicksand. She headed into the back area where the showers were.
“Hey, baby!” said a voice, and she ignored it. “You dance divinely. Such incredible sadness! How much would it be for you to come with me for the night? I’ll make you smile again for sure!”
“No thank you,” she said, not looking at him. Ugh, this was why she didn’t like dancing in public in her homeland.
“C’mon, it’s just for the night,” he said, and grabbed her arm, bringing her to an abrupt halt.
“Hey!” came an angry shout, and Kuihlud grabbed the guy – some rich-dressed Ul’dahn Hyur – by the scruff of his neck and wrenched him away. “If you lay another finger on our dancers I’ll break both your legs!”
For a moment, the guy looked like he wanted to fight. But Kuihlud was five fulms and nine inches of glowering dance-honed muscle himself, and suddently Nashmeira appeared on his other side, chakrams in her hands, and he turned tail.
“Ah, not so fast,” said a woman in a Chief Bunny outfit, with some security guards in tuxedos, blocking his escape. “You’re getting banned, sir. Come this way, we’ll escort you to the airship landing.”
“What!? I protest- I demand to see Lord Godbert!”
“I do apologize for this intruder barging past the ‘no entry’ sign and disturbing you,” the Chief Bunny girl said to Nashmeira, bowing. “Security was distracted. It won’t happen again.” The security guards nodded vigorously.
“Thank you,” Nashmeira said. “Kuihlud, thank you for your quick action. You’d better get back to the band for the big finish.”
“Right, call if you need me,” Kuihlud said with a warm smile, and departed.
Nashmeira turned to Rinala. “Are you all right? Kuihlud saw that man go in after you and signalled me.”
“I’m sorry,” Rinala said. “He should have been in the band, and instead he had to look after me…”
“Ah, that’s nothing, dear,” Nashmeira said, putting an arm around her shoulder and walking with her to the changing room. “Yes, we always want to put on the best show possible, never to compromise our art whether we perform for the poorest pauper as well as those… better off, the smallest audience as well as the largest, but making sure you are safe is even more important. It’s still good enough that the audience will neither notice nor care – and if they did, it would not change our decisions. Listen to them cheering for Ranaa now! No, do not worry.”
“Okay,” Rinala said. “Thank you for saving me.”
Nashmeira squeezed her shoulders a bit. “You didn’t even react. Why not?”
Before, she would have broken free easily with her rogue training, maybe even pulled a weapon on him. Now, she just stood there. “I don’t know.”
Nashmeira sighed and let it go. “Never mind. You danced very well. Lhaminn is here today, and she has something for you. Go get washed up, and she’ll see you after that.”
F’lhaminn was in the dressing room, chatting and laughing with the others, when Rinala got back from her shower. Ranaa gave her a high-five and then went to have her own shower. “Rinala! Wonderful show as always,” F’lhaminn greeted her. “Did your parents come to see you?”
“They came to Stonesthrow yesterday,” Rinala said. Ranaa had badgered her family’s residence out of her, and Nashmeira had kindly arranged to invite them to the Stonesthrow performance. They, like the rest of the audience, weren’t quite sure what to make of the dark spirits that Ranaa defeated in her performance, but they’d loved the show in general. It was very nice of the troupe to accommodate them like that.
“Ah, that’s good. You’ve grown by leaps and bounds! But now, I have something for you that’s not related to any of that.” F’lhaminn reached into a satchel and pulled out something to hand to Rinala.
It was a plush mammet, like her Thancred doll. But her own simplified face stared back up at her, dressed in her usual white Thanalan clothing. “It’s… me?” She looked up questioningly at F’lhaminn.
F’lhaminn chuckled. “Tataru asked us if we could come up with fundraising ideas while she was off in the East. Someone pointed out that there were already Scion minions on the market, but they hadn’t been updated in a while – and there certainly weren’t any of the Warriors of Light. Yes, I think she’ll be very pleased with this idea. It will be virtually printing money. And you get to see our first prototype!”
The little Rinala, standing in her hands, did a spin with her cane, just like when she cast Holy. She… smiled at it. “It’s cute. Very detailed. I think it’s higher quality than my Thancred doll.” Not that she’d replace that doll ever, even if it had been shoved into a box under her bed for now.
“It’s yours, then,” F’lhaminn said with satisfaction. “When you’re done the tour, drop by the Rising Stones – I’m sure by then we’ll have a full set for you to inspect.”
It was actually really weird to have a plushie of herself. The more she looked at it, the more weird she found it. She didn’t want to keep it with her. “I’ll send it to my parents. They can show it off as a trophy of my accomplishments.”
For some reason F’lhaminn found that an amusing thing to say.
Chapter 75: Angel of Blood
Author’s notes: I blitzed through 4.2 with Achiyo, including all the side content and a PLD Anima weapon (for the glaaaam), which was a nice refresher for bits I want to put in the fic! So I’m all caught up to myself. I’ve been playing with French audio (still Eng subs, which don’t match), since I’ve heard both English and Japanese several times up to this point – I’ve been doing French on Duolingo for a while, after not having done it since highschool, and while I feel I’m doing pretty good in the course, I can still only understand about 30-40% of the game dialogue. But it’s good practice! There are some interesting little details that are different from the English version! (Thancred is considerably warmer, for one)
Also, 3-and-a-half strats I’m using for being even more immersed in Eorzea:
– turn off the minimap (big map is perfectly accessible for when I need to locate faraway questmarkers)
– minimize the rest of the UI and screen clutter as much as possible, especially PC/NPC nametags
– play in first-person (except in instances and duties)
– bonus: teleporting for MSQ purposes is cheating, even flying in straight lines is kinda cheating. Support your local chocobo porter!
This really gets my head out of the map-staring, my eyes off the floor, and makes me look around not as a gamer, but as an explorer. I have a new appreciation for the world looking at it from this angle. My character is attractive, but I can admire her in cutscenes, not stare at my own butt and the map for hours. I’m having such a good time. : D
(and then FFXIV stopped working on my Windows10 computer so… I bought a whole new Win11 PC to be exclusively my FFXIV machine) (still kind of pissed since it worked perfectly up until then, not fair) (I knew it would have to be done eventually and that’s the only reason I’m not more mad about it)
I’m gonna play Chuchupa in a DnD one-shot! Halfling barbarian lezgo!