Sunday, June 15, 2008

When times are harsh...

Sometimes a Mithra just has a rough couple of weeks, and not even a linkshell, or watching people decimate all manner of creatures in the name of experience can cheer her up.

During those times, there is only one thing she can count on. One thing that will always be there, and always be constant in their level of companionship.

I said nothing about it being a particularly high level of companionship. But there is no one, absolutely no one else in the rest of Vana'diel, who will just sit there, clenching their teeth and their knife while I blather on about really stupid things.

I like to think that I help them too, sometimes.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Word of the Day: Epic.

Epic. E-P-I-C.

In townspeople terms, an Epic is a huge long poem that the Tavern bards sing in honor of our incredible journeys across Vana'diel. Epic also describe the sheer magintude of events that inspire bards to stop leading hunting parties and sit down.

For a real adventurer, that's nothing. That's just another ordinary windsday. Challenging gods and killing them. Yawn. So last week. Fishing up legendary monsters? Saving a nation? Saving the entire world? What else is new?

Epic gets a whole new meaning.

That is epic.

Oh yeah, it looks like failure, but look closer. You see an alliance wiped, wiped to the last man, yes. You see Absolute Virtue, looking around with sheer possessiveness of his reef. What you might also see is Ghades, a lone Samurai, seeking to belong somewhere.

What you do not see, is the huge Yovra who decimated our alliance, nor the three sharks who follow him. No, because our brave little Ronin walked up to the Jailer of Love, stared him straight in the tenticle, and unleashed the fury of his Great Katana.

Absolute Virtue will surely tear that Samurai limb for limb, but really in that screenshot, he's just staring in awe.

"Impressive, mortal." he says, disdain actually absent for his voice. Then he knocks down the Samurai in one hit.

Surely poems will be written of this man's accomplishments. One day, people will drink to his memory. "I remember that day..." some senile old Elvaan will say, "when I killed the Jailer of Love with my own blade."

And his grandchildren will say, "lolJailerofLove."

But for now, Cieria, I, and every other person eating the sands of Al'Taieu salute you.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

And Now, a Word from Our Archduke.

Kam'lanaut's Conspiracies of Vana'diel.

Hello there, I'm Kam'lanaut. You might remember me as the Archduke of Jeuno. You might also remember me as the inventor of airship transporation, crystal synthesis and leave-in conditioner. You certainly don't remember any scandal at the top of Delkfutt's Tower that involved me.

Anyway, I am here today to talk about something very important. Conspiracies. Yes, behind our wonderful, cheery world, are a load of conspiracies that even the most adept and paranoid adventurers are unaware of. So once again, I must do service to our beloved Vana'diel and bring a couple of these to light.

Kilusha's Puppy Mill

"What? An Elvaan?" You might say. "Yes," I say, "an Elvaan." Though she looks like a sweet intellectual, behind those glasses lies a pet-lover crazier that a Mithra Beastmaster. As many know, she's sent out ads in all the Aht Urgan and Jeuno newspapers looking for adventurers to volunteer in experiments, and promising all sorts of rewards.

What she's looking for is a cheap renewable source of foods for her babies. And your only reward is going to be in the knowledge that you have nourished a dog or two. I always thought adventurers were more into tangible rewards, but whatever.

What can you do to prevent Kilusha from decimating the adventuer population? First, of course, is to donate anonymously some Pet Food Alpha. Not a lot, but just enough for the dogs to turn on each other. Second, you can tell your friends that Kilusha's little plea for help, is nothing but her scheme to turn them into kibbles and bits. Third, you can lock her in a room and force her to listen to the Duct Tape Zombies until she goes insane. It should only take about three minutes and forty seconds tops.

The Truth Behind Goblin Food
Goblin Drink, Goblin Bread, Goblin Pie, Goblin Chocolate. Look at the common recipies and it seems innocent enough. An adventurer could easily down one of these tasty snacks and believe them to be simply made by Goblins. But bite into one, and you'll know, there's a zing there that no crayfish or sunflower seed could give.

It's not made by goblins. It's made of goblins. Movapolos is not the innocent underground mining city made to be looted by adventurers, it's a food processing factory that brings even the Cooking Guild of Windurst to shame.

You might ask why Goblins would encourage adventurer's to eat Goblinkind. I honestly cannot tell you, except for the fact that I've seen it with my own eyes. Maybe they're assembling an army of Goblins to take over the world and will use the slaughter of some of their comrades as an excuse. Or they could just be sick like that. Or, they could just be goblins, who knows? Also, exhibt 'A':

Trailmix. Trailmix. See, if Goblins weren't trying to get adventurers to eat them, they wouldn't have a goblin with the name of a tasty sounding snack in the middle of nowhere.

Which bring me to what you can do about it. Boycott Goblin Products. Stop buying Gobbiebags made of Goblin Skin. Stop snacking on Goblin Chocolate. Always have something to eat, even if it's just a mithkabob, so you're not tempted.

That's all the time I have for today, though not all the conspiracies in Vana'diel. There's still Dhamels, Sheep, Yagudo Necklaces, Sushi, Cookies, Manaclippers, Mannequins, Gigas, Trolls, Moogles, Chocobos, Ancient Papyrus, and Galka Bards to consider.

This has been the completely innocent and totally maligned Kam'lanaut signing out. Remember, I am the only thing standing between Maat and world domination.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Our Story

I'm not going to be so vain to say this will give you diabetes, but I am, for once, going to try to be sweet. I am also, for a second, step out of character to say: This is not the exact truth in the real world, but an interpretation colored to suit Vana'diel.

That said:

Once upon a time, there was a brash, young dragoon. Let's call her Jaish. Jaish traipsed across Vana'diel in her Brigandine and cooked a lot. Back then, Ettie was called Maggie and many of the regular faces in Star Onion Cats were barely known, including Cie.

Oh, they had known each other since Jaish started adventuring. Cie had been a member of the linkshell that initiated Jaish into the world of adventurers, and while they had never been enemies, they had never really noticed each other.

The first year of life in Vana'diel went by fast. The unnoticed Cie grew stronger in the Red Mage ways. Jaish found the life of a thief tiring and almost redeemed herself by becoming a dragoon. Spring came and Cie and Jaish started noticing one another, as friends and shell mates.

The first time, Jaish reached her limits, Cie was one of those at her side to help break them. Oh sure, all she wanted were the fabled pants of the red mage, but she was by Jaish's side all the same.

Shortly after, Jaish fell ill. Twinges and darkness so easily ignored became unbearable. She could hardly move, hardly lift her lance. And one day, she just gave out. She could adventure no longer. She said goodbye to all the friends she made, for she didn't know when she'd see them again. Then, she sealed herself in the Rarab Tail Hostel in Windurst Waters, communicating mostly with those who could help cure her illness.

Some talked with her, but old companions could not cheer Jaish from her illness. Then one day, a knock came at her door. She didn't expect who she saw, that red mage from her linkshell, Cie. For as long as she could, Cie sat on Jaish's side, and they started talking, really talking. Not just about adventures, but their lives. The joys and the pains.

The physical illness remained, but now the accompanying despair turned. A bad situation became home, and Jaish started to anticipate Cie's visit. Others observed the change and speculated. Both denied it. To be more accurate: both were not aware of it. Then after talking all night, and watching the sun rise together, they came to the conclusion.

They loved each other.

The events that set in motion that revelation, started three years ago, over the course of a week. Jaish did eventually recover, and the tradition of them adventuring together started. The rest becomes the present everyone sees today.

Good times, tough times, rough times. Our greatest victories and defeats are shared between us. It's been three years, and we're farther than I could have imagined during those nights we spent talking.

You are the one who knows me.
You are my true companion.
You are the one who can best cheer me up.

I less-than-three you, as the cool Mithra say.

I promise less sap, next entry.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Absolute Virtue is not amused.

I'm sure everyone can relate.

You're just sitting back in a strange place, slightly buzzed from all those Yagudo Drinks you downed, and the stress of the past weeks just makes you want to get up and sing and dance.

This is for one of those times.

We've spent so many weeks a farmin'
We've killed so many gods.
The yovrae were so charmin'.
You'd think it rather odd.

The virtues went a fallin'
We climbed up every tier.
Inside, outside we went a callin'
Vict'ry was so near.

The Aern's all have reraise.
The soccer balls change their shape.
The melee beg for erase.
The mages are colored like grapes.

We toured the great big palace.
We gathered at the spot.
I felt a lot of malice.
Oh Ix'DRK is so hot.

Please gather at Al'Taieu
Please look up and below.
And please don't look behind you.
There's three sharks in a row.

Hope went down so smoothly.
Justice spawned some squids.
When Temp'rance spawned a homie
Our kiter ran and hid.

A yovra joined the party.
"Hey guys! this looks like fun."
But our group, we are the smarties
The epic battle we had won.

So now love lays dead before us.
He's gone and dropped his torques.
But a big bad aern has come along.
Oh man we are so sporked!

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

The Earth Dragoon.

I hate to say it, but it seems in the groups of adventurers that trot across Vana'diel looking for wealth, fame, and glory, word gets around about the proper way to do things.

News spreads that in an area where one's skills are drained and shall-we-say capped at a certain level and a certain fiend fiendishly difficult to destroy, there are professions that are welcome and those who are unwelcome.

And when it comes to the might Earth Dragon, Ouryu, Dragoons are decidedly unwelcome by the majority of Vana'diel.

Dragoons unwelcome at a dragon fight? Huh?

Apparently one needs a magical army to rival Windurst's War Warlocks to take down Bahamut's Earth Dragon.

The problem, when one has a small group of friends and only a few professions is that one does not have access to an army of War Warlocks. No, you can be the Star Sybil's best friend ever, but she still won't give them to you.

So anyway, this means we had to set out as we were to fight this beast.

Watch our brave adventurers including a single Black Mage confront Ouryu (Also brave and confronting Ouryu but not pictured: Kys our healer extrodinaire and Pavan on Red Mage.)

The first time we fell, and yet when it came time to call the Star Sybil one more time and ask if she'd please lend us even some Combat Casters, we chose not to. We talked and discussed how we could make our little group tougher than a dragon who could be mistaken for a mountain.

We chained our abilities, for extra damage and to help our Black Mage use his spells to their best potential. I volunteered for the position of Mistmelter to ground Ouryu when he took to the sky, and we all had medicine to down like they were Yagudo Drinks.

And with some nice toe-stepping on our parts, we won.

The only problem now, is getting people to believe us when we say that one does not need to call in every favor the Star Sybil ever owes you to beat this dragon. *sigh* I guess, as long as that is the easiest way...

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Life in the Grotto

For fun and profit, I spend a lot of time down by Norg.

Just the same ol' drink some Opo brew and beat up the local Beastmen type of thing. There's treasures to be found: Gil, Pearls, Sea Thingies, Ninja Scrolls, Shrunken Mermaid Heads, etc, and no one there to take them.

And that's a pity I make up for in spades.

Now, sometimes though, a Mithra gets bored of the same stab-stab poke-poke and gets curious. So this time, I've actually started wondering about things:

What type of technology to the Sahagin have to let Makara levitate? And what type of purpose does this have?

Why do I keep getting attacked by monsters whose names sound like they should be taken as blood sugar medicine? Fun fact, Sea Horror tentacles are a Mhaura folk remedy for high blood pressure as well as romantic appetizer on a sunset cruise. ((btw, tentacle boy's name is Glyryvilu))

Why is there a perfect correlation between Sahagin skin color and jobs. Why are only blue skinned Sahagin suited for physical jobs such as Dragoon and Monk. Don't you ever just want to *sing* or walk around all day clubbing people and then bringing then back to life? And same with you tan skinned ones, aren't you afraid that if you don't start working out, Mr. Riparian Sahagin, that the chicks won't be a groupie for a slovely rocker. And you, Ms. Spring Sahagin, grow a pair and start clubbing your fellow Sahagin to death and then raising them. It really does help with the skill-ups.

I'm sure there's a reason. Maybe it's inborn, and certain talents are just genetically encoded on the same chromosome as skin color. Or it's a social thing, where the blue skinned ones are expected to work out and have the IQs of a Tunnel Worm, and the tan-colored ones are expected to study medicine and chamber music and let themselves go. Perhaps this is just a front, and there's a whole Sahagin civilization where the tan ones are the physical jobs and the blue ones are all mental, and this is just to decieve everyone when the Mithra eventually invade. Or heck, it might be the same ol' same ol' with skin color = gender = expectations.

I did try to ask, but somehow in the heat of battle it came out more as an ethnic slur than an honest question, and I'll tell you, regardless of anything, Sahagin are touchy.

Oh yeah, which reminds me, what is it with beastmen and their dance trios?

I guess I should ask the Orcs about that one.