Ark Angels or Literotica, Vana'diel Style.

Disclaimer: If the title isn't a giveaway, this might not be safe for work, children under the age of 18, or people who do not like innuendo ruining their fun and innocent game.

Curious fact: The largest collection of literary erotica in Vana'diel is archived in the Hall of the Gods. No joke. The second largest belong to Bastok's Judiciary Council on Obscenity. Windurst's Optistery rounds out the top three. Depending on who you ask and the moon phase, the largest private collection belongs either to Prince Pieuje of San'd Oria or the Archduke of Jeuno.

Anyway, the largest collection of literary erotica exists in the Hall of the Gods, basement level. Which I guess is about as safe a place as any to keep things hidden from sight and mind, considering that the alternative is an adventurer's heaven of Godlike equipment. And last weekend I had the privelege of actually seeing this collection.

Each book crumbles with age. The papyrus that holds the stories must be so old that not even Maat would ask for it. Most of them I dared not touch. A few I opened. Many of them had illustrations of Sea Monks. I closed those quickly. Most of them were stories, written in a language last spoken by the Zilart and the Kuluu. Only one could I actually read.



Divine Might.

The plot, or what passes for a plot, I have a hard time describing. I guess it's a work of Prophecy written in the far past regarding the far future a.k.a. now. Five angels, warriors of the crystals, one of each race, awaken and have many adventures before they eventually fall. For names, all the reader ever gets are cryptic letters (H.M. E.V. G.K. M.R. and T.T.). I have no clue what they stand for.

Now, I can't actually quote any of this. Do you want Yve'nolle and her brigade of copyright-lawyer-nuns to shut this blog down?

Okay. Point. Still, no quoting.

Wow. I did not know a Tarutaru could do that to a Mithra--wait is that her tiger? No. Definitely a Mithra. Hmm..maybe both. Yeah, both. I didn't know the tiger could do that. The taru is definitely enjoying it though. So I guess it's not that bad.

MAGIC BURST! And the beastmaster too. Weird. I'm kind of jealous.

Oh...scene change. Galka there. And the adventurers. They sure look dead, the adventurers. And the Galka...wow, I only thought the more disturbed Dark Knights did that. I guess I owe Mel an apology. Now the others are joined in. Though the Mithra and the Tarutaru seem otherwise occupied.

Still, with three Crystal Warriors each more powerful than a single group of adventurers, it seems like a sticky situation for these sleeping antagonists. Very sticky.

Oh. They're awake, and getting their revenge. I didn't think they'd get up that fast. Oh...poor Galka. I remember that one scene with the dogs and the adventurers in the traning grounds, only this is more like umm.. the dogs are the adventurers and the adventurers are the Galka and oh look. What a way to go. They'll be debating whether he died happy.

What about the Elvaan and the Hume?

There should be a finale, some awesome scene that will burn the mind out like acid from a notorious Marbol. Instead we get some sweet reminicing scenes about the apparently free-love society in sky, with a guest appearance by Despot. There's some touching scenes with the Mithra and the Elvaan, and a happy ending with the Tarutaru and the magic pots.



The flashbacks are finally over, and back to the present, the Elvaan make some remark to the Hume and there's a quick little scene there before the adventurers descend. The grand finale of all the adventurers converging on those two Ark Angels makes up for the lull in pacing, as they work hard and long on those Crystal Warriors. Nothing all that mind-melting. The ear chopping bit at the end is a little disturbing though.

What's this? You want to know where I got this Suppanomimi? >.> *cough* No, no, I didn't happen like that, I swear! Pervs! I swing a polearm for a living, of course I'm sweaty and out-of-breath. You would be too after two hours of intense...umm...fighting!

Point of notice:

Rumor has it that soon all adventurers will be able to go back to the times of the Great War. On Altana's Wings, we will fly back to the past, or something like it.

We Star Onion Cats like history, Cieria took a lot of history courses during her days as an Aurastery Acolyte, even going so far as to attend the Lightsday Lectures, without recieving extra credit for it.

Me...well, I likes dinosaurs?



I want one! Give! Now!

So yeah, when Cie told me we were only going so far back in time, and there'd be no dinosaurs, I just about turned in my adventuring certificate to apply to the Mamool Ja Army. But they wanted to make me a Thief again, so I said forget it. Then they tried to kill me.



I guess they're sensitive about adventurers coming in to steal their best jobs. Well, you keep on riding your friggin' Triceratopses! One day, you won't have them anymore, and I'll stomp you with my army of velociraptors!

So yeah, I'll go talk to Cid. Maybe he can make a time machine that can go back far enough to wrangle me up my own dinosaur. The Scholars aren't going to do it for me. Or maybe....

Hmm.

Have stuff to do, gotta go!

Agenda of the Windurstian Babes Society:

Order! order!



We've got a busy day ahead of us ladies and only so much time. Cieria, hon, I know you've been asking for a puppy, but now is not the time to try and pick one up from Zi'tah. We've got other things to do.

Unfortunately, I don't have a visual aid for this, but our first mission, when we choose to accept it, is to sneak through Ro'Maeve, the Temple of Uggalepih, and the Quicksands Cave to find... songs. Yes, songs. The annual Karaoke Contest for the Vana'diel Legion of Women Adventurers is coming up, and we cannot let the Elvaan Pop Idols win again! The songs might be a pain to get, but ladies, with these and some snappy new outfits, we're guaranteed not only victory but a breakaway pop hit.



After this, we should convene in the Inner Horutoto Ruins. As part of our dedication ot serving Windurst, we must test out the Three Mage Gate to make sure the security is still working. If we also happen to find a few skeletons who'd like to share tea and crumpets before they die a slashy, pokey, or fiery death, all the better.



Once tea time with the Wendigos is over, we go through the Toraimarai Canal and to the Full Moon fountain. We've got a date ladies--a date with our destiny! Let's go in, be strong, and try our darndest not to die... too much.



And by destiny, I mean playing poker using Cardian Tarot Cards. The only stakes are all in, and the jackpot is our lives. As you see, I'll keep the Ace tamed while Cieria, Kysenna, Solare sleep and heal, essentially getting our strength up for the next game.



Hey, wait! What's a boy doing at our meeting. Eww! Oh wait, it's just Ajido Marujido and what's this, he wants to help and needs to be baby-sat? Oh...I guess, if he insists. Just no flirting, and stay away from the Mithra tails.



With the poker game over, and Ajido Marujido along, now we've got some serious work to do. A dragon and a manticore would like to play with us on the behalf of some sucky anti-Windurstian campaign. Using our proven strategy (Try not to die too much), we will knock down them both, and perhaps even a Solare as a bonus. In which case we can have the ultimate weapon of evil cute, the Solly Zombie roaming across Vana'diel.

And what's our final reward?



Why a guided tour of Windurst Walls provided by the Star Sybil and her guards. Now we'll know all the secrets and hotspots of Windy's most elite neighborhoods.

We heard there was a Minotaur

So, to help the fair refugees of the Tavnazian safehold, we've decided to exterminate the threat and follow Nag'molada.

It's kind of weird, the way our powers become limited when we step foot into certain areas, but there's something about these sewers, the mold and the mildew and a pressing energy that weakens us to a certain point. But Cieria and I, and our usual crew suited up and dove in.

Melchaia led us true to the Minotaur, and Pavan, as an actual Paladin kept the mobs attention until the monster's gaze filled him with panic and terror and he dropped to the ground. Cieria took over, with her calm and infuriating manner, and the Minotaur never noticed Mel's scythe and my arrows draining away his life. But Cieria too became doomed, and only one thing could be done.



That thing went down flat, even if we've heard that it sometimes takes an entire alliance of adventurers to get the minotaur dead.

The six of us retreat and rest up for the journey ahead.



We needed to find a gate, locked and made of iron, and the keys are kept by the ghosts of adventurer's slain in Tavnazia. Slaying them again leaves a dark stain of blood on the armor, and no matter how one tries and tries to clean it up with deodorizing spells, it sinks into one's skin, in a taint that is both physical and spiritual. Once upon a time, I slew some in an adventuring party and obtained a tiny bronze key, that I've kept in my Mog House, so this time, we could all clean the taint from our skin and leave the fomors to live their undead lives in peace.



But before this, we'd seen a notorious taurus monster the Mahisha wandering the path between us and the Minotaur. The victory over the big bad gave us the confidence to smash his named skull in and try to claim his prize. Pavan had learned the secrets of not getting doomed by the Mahisha's gaze (looking away) and the fight went much smoother than the Minotaur's did.



Melchaia led us to the gate, and up a ladder where we caught up to Nag-molada, lazy bastard making us do all the killing, killing work and risking our hides. And we walk into a library like room, complete with hidden passages...

And our heretofore trustworthy guide takes us through the wrong door and the back of a Doom Toad guards our only way out. Melchaia drops through, without the oil to quiet his movements, and we must fight our way past the giant blob of flesh.

We survive, but we have a new problem. My old key broke in the gate, and so we have two options, kill these fomors, that we would have rather left alone for our safety, our sanity, and our mog cleaning bills, until we find one who has another bronze key, or we could find someone who get get in the less honest way...

We tried to kill the fomors, but two of them sapped our strength to the max. No way we could fight through them all, and who knows when a key would drop, so I mention another solution.

I suppose it's no secret that I used to be one of Mihgo's burglars. Not a good one, but good enough I guess. Never really had the passion for the work, but I did have the training, and since Ranger gear is so similar to the gear I used for thief, I stepped forward.

We could go back to the safehold, I said, I could get one of my associates to send me lockpicks. And that's what we chose to do. Our fighting was done mostly, though we needed to clean off the stench of the two fomors we killed. It took longer than I thought to get the lockpicks, but get them I did, and we headed back to the gate. Though my skills were rusty, the lock was even rustier, and broke apart easily.



Back to following Nag'molada, we found the right passage this time, and found ourselves in a corridor filled with oil lamps. Melchaia and Kysenna knew the secret of the lamps and the pressed two. I don't know which, not my job to know. But they opened the last door and Nag'molada found his precious object in the aqueducts.

Oh, and as we fought our way out and back to the safehold, I came to a new understanding of thievery, a realization if you will.



It was, as they say, an adventure.

Almost a memory now.

I should be a little more hesitant to post about this, but it's important, and I think I have the words now.



He's my adopted brother, and something of a mentor. He raised my adventurous spirit, took me to places a young thief should never go, glaciers, ferries, islands. With his help, I managed to show the archduke I was worthy of riding on his airships. When he went to sky for the first time, he brought me along to Hall of the Gods, and then described what he saw in the world above, and I knew I'd get there someday.

She's my twin sister. I met her after I met my bro, but for a while, we were almost on the same paths, two thieves on their way to Norg for the first time. I guess she was always a little harsh, but she was very nice to me. And though our jobs eventually grew apart, we still stayed together. We crafted together. And together we found the twin keepers of Blighted Gloom and enlisted their assistance.

They're together now, in the way Cieria and I are. Partners in life and adventuring, and I believe they are happy. Yet, our paths have taken us separate ways, sometimes in a friendly way, sometimes in an angry way. And now separate enough, that we've chosen to go with another group of people to let the good memories survive and the bad ones fade away.

Right now, I know they feel betrayed by us, not just by Cieria and I, but the whole group of us that formed our own shell to make new memories for ourselves, and let our pasts with them come down to fond memories, and greetings in Whitegate.

I suppose, I can't speak for anyone else, but I don't hate you guys. Quite the opposite, in fact. And I leave so that I will never have to stop loving you both.

Moghouse Style: Inspiration across Vana'diel

As a general rule, adventurers don't spend much time inside their moghouses, but that doesn't mean they must come home to an empty room bereft of style and substance. With a little work any adventurer can turn their mog-house into a warm an inviting space they can call a mog-home.



Davoi is always a wonderful place to find chic and contemporary items for your home, for less than Auction House prices.



As this Toraimarai Canal room shows, the lived in look will always be in, and the Tarutaru skull on the chair adds a touch of creepy charm to an otherwise classic and elegant library.



These floors in the Hall of the Gods are expensive to install, but their special effect will make it a showstopping centerpiece to your front entrance.



Adventuring brings many relics and gifts from grateful townspeople and by all means display these in your mog house, but remember, too many knick-knacks will make your room cluttered.



After a long day of killing beastmen and taking their stuff, nothing beats a soak in this backyard hottub, based on a similar one on Horlais Peak.



Dynamic artwork warms up this cold stone wall, but all aspiring interior designers remember, when attempting to decorate a Tonberry stronghold, ask permission first.



Greenery makes any moghouse come alive.



Ever since the seaway to Aht Urgan opened, the Middle Lands have fallen in love with Corsairs. As this room in the Maze of Shakrami shows, a few antique accessories--lanterns, coins, treasure boxes-- and distressed furniture, can turn your place into a pirate's hideaway.



This hat-rack, custom-made by Shantotto, not only hangs your hat, but with the special curses placed on it, can also hang your enemy's head. Beautiful and multipurpose!



Mannequins have had some stigma across Vana'diel for some time now, but their look, storage, and fuctionality should inspire any adventurer to overcome their fear of what promises to be the next exciting home trend.



Aquariums make a dramatic statement in any room, but there is such a thing as going overboard.

May your Mog-house always be in style.

Quiz Time!

Q: When faced with the choice of hunting bats in a moldy ruin, where the floors are littered with holes, and adventurers from all sides of Vana'diel are literally killing themselves to see who has the most bats and beetles on them or taking a cruise out to a beautiful tropical isle with more exotic prey and wonderful seafood lunches, which does a true Star Onion Cat choose?





A: The seafood lunch, of course!

Q: You see a Red Mage being chased by a couple of ardor-rabid opo-opos, what is an appropriate thing to shout at him?



A: "Shock the monkey!" or "Shock 'him monkeys!" depending on whether you like the Red Mage in question or not.

Q: You're having one of those pesky nightmares again, where the beastmen take over your hometown and you and your fellow adventurers must raid this world. However, things are not going so hot and your group stands on the brink of annihilation again, what do you do?





A: Run like mad and/or start muttering something from "The Charge of the Light Brigade"

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Someone had blunder'd:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

By some bard, Lord Tennyson.

Any Publicity is Good Publicity

The Star Onion Cats in conjuction with the Fuzzy Pickles linkshell provide for you tonight the latest and greatest entertainment on all of Vana'diel: The death metal barbershop quartet Duct Tape Zombies!



Don't be the only one in your Big Game Linkshell to miss what promises to be their Vana'diel shattering debut at the Nashmau dome. Naja Salaheem would give her pointy mace for front row seats, so why wouldn't you?



Listen to the old classics, "Baby I'm gonna Eat Your Brains (and Rock Your Body too)", and "Death Comes from All Sides and Has a Handful of Tarutaru Entrail" as well as their upcoming singles, "My Bomb Core Looks like a Demonic Vagina" and "Nomad Moogles Never Call for Help (That's what I Like about Them)."

This night promises to be one you never forget, but just in case, tickets to the Duct Tape Zombies Eat Nashmau include a dinner cruise on the Silver Sea Route and the masterful break dance stylings of Cookie-Master Solare.



Tickets are flying out the window as we speak! Get yours today!*

*We accept Gil and Kraken Clubs as payment.

Be here in my dreams.

I was young when I killed the Shadow Lord, and with the Zilartian princes making their move, I had more important things to preoccupy myself with.

But lately, as I reached the limits of a Dragoon's potential, I've been feeling strange. Well, mostly dreams. It start's the same, I'm always by the Mog House, and there are these markings on the ground that I've never noticed before. And I have this hourglass that I set upon the trail markings.



When I do, the city darkens and statues of beastmen roam the streets. People surround me, but we are few in this city controlled by beastmen. Some of them I know, Cieria is by my side always, and so are some people from our linkshell. Most are strangers, though.



We swarm monsters, and monsters swarm us. Many times we fall to their numbers, and unlike the monsters out in the world, these beastmen are stronger, more intelligent. The cities we thought of as our havens become the enemy's base, and we infiltrate.



The battles stretch out for hours and days it seems. Each individual falls quickly, for the combined prowess of adventurers exceeds that of any Orcish mob. But they come in waves and waves to drive us out or destroy us.



We prevail at least, and the tomb of the Overlord rises and falls, and many of us fall with it. Upon the earth where it died, I see the scepter of the fabled Hydra Corps. Then I wake up, in my mog house dazed, and a little woozy too. I swear I dreamed the whole thing, but in the secret secret pocket of my Gobbiebag there are six bronze coins, the currency of the old San d'Orian kingdom before gil became the standard currency of civilized nations.

And I walk out of the Mog House, still a bit sick, and what does my feverish mind see:



And when I see Ettie again, she's gnawing on something, as though it were a rare treat.



Yum.

We love this man.

We love him. We've loved him the minute we saw his cold Aht Urgan heart through the vest of his Sha'ir Manteel.

We love his shaved and tattooed head, his dark and mysterious spectacles, and the aforementioned Manteel.

In fact, we might even go straight for him.

He could warp me to Aht Urgan *any* time *winkwink*

Creation Myth

Once upon a time, long long ago, the Goddess Altana looked upon the world of Vana'diel and saw that something was dreadfully absent. And see this, Altana picked up a Tiny Mandragora from Windurst, and imbued upon it the form and function of a hume male. Why Altana did so, I can only hope the Star Sybil knows.



The Tiny Mandragora reformed, the Goddess Altana bestowed upon him the name of "Therelith" and loosed him upon San d'Oria, because San d'Oria needed some real loosening after the Kingly Decree of 847 that required that all adult Elvaan wear a darksteel rod up their posterior.



So, lost in San d'Oria and clueless of what to do next, Therelith found three objects: a sword, a scroll of Dia, and a pickle, and suddenly he knew what to do. He ate the scroll, poked a moogle with the sword, and stuck the pickle in his ears. When the people inside the pickle started talking, it changed the course of his life forever, though a league of 50 white mages has yet to cure him of the Talking Pickle Disease. Nor has the San d'Orian League of Decency made any headway on combating his Chocomog Bordello.



Over the years, Therelith followed his destiny, to spread Altana's Gospel of Chocobo and Moogle loving and to test the limits of how much pimp clothing a single human male can wear before going completely blind. Both Cieria and I salute you today.

Besieged: The Trolling

We return to Al Zhabi fresh from our exploits in Korroloka, Cie a Paladin, I a Ranger. It's been a successful day, we're much stronger coming out than we were coming in. We return to the sounds of sirens wailing through Aht Urgan, the sounds of undead moans fade. No time for rest though, the trolls are on their way, and Cie and I must ready ourselves to meet them.

The hume Therelith waits for us outside the gates, and we band together. He is weary, and he greets us with the news that three generals have already succumbed to the undead. We prepare, hurry up and wait, as the sin hunters say. We try to relax, but the tension overwhelms us, and only Ettie can rest as the sirens rise to a screaming pitch.



Bomb smoke rises over the gates, and the clank of heavy armor announces the arrival of the troll mercenaries. We wince but General Najelith and General Mihli fortify us for the battle ahead. Our reserves are slim, our kits nearly empty, and Qiquirn fighters the only allies us midland adventurers have. But we brace ourselves for the battle ahead.

The nimble Vyuvurjar appears, and with all our breath, ignoring scorpions, trolls, and bombs, we chip away his health. The General Najelith leads us, and our healers remain back to keep her healthy. Wherever Vyuvurjar runs, we follow. And he falls, but in having fallen, our troop loses direction.

The notorious and menacing Gurfurlar appears, and some of our number chase him, as futile as it is to stop him before his minions fall. And while Vyuvurjar fell quickly, his comrade the claviger Xarhorkur refuses to go quietly. His hammer pounds my bones and my mind into unconsciousness, and even after we wake, my body still stings from the resonance of every hit.

Cieria and I seek shelter to recover from our wounds, and get perhaps a moments refuge from the battle. My stomach tosses as the shouts reach across the city. "The Galeserpent General has fallen! Protect the Cat General!" I know only General Mihli binds the Hall of Binding, but the ache and the weariness override that knowledge, I stay put, only to hear that she too has been captured by the trolls.

Cieria, Therelith and I rush to the Hall of Binding, our bodies to be the obstacle between the invaders and the Astral Candescence. Scorpions wait for us, their tails poised to strike any who catch their attention, several times their attacks leave me unable to move, and I must cure myself. Cieria falls and rises only to fall again. Ettie herself has risen and fallen so many times, I wonder if she is not a mere wyvern, but instead the legendary Phoenix.




The scorpions fall, and only the bombs are clearing the way. We lure them out of the hall and back into the city proper. Cieria waits in the hall, in case they come back, while Ther and I emerge, looking for Xarhorkur. We find him, and I ready my polearm. I fall again, his hammer striking a blow that enters my left temple and reverberates throughout the party.

I retreat again, my body has given out. I've drawn on Ettie's strength twice already, and the the many hammer blows have given me a permanent case of the shakes. I stumble to an unoccupied corner and recover from the ordeal.

Meanwhile, the immediate threat from the Hall of Binding subsides, and Cieria walks to the square, and Therelith has retreated into another corner. The worst of the exhaustion leaves me, and I hop to my feet. Xarhorkur and his hammer must be punished.



I cannot battle Xarhorkur directly, but I let my Jumps carry me. Cieria, Therelith, and I support each other. We will not fall again. The Troll ranks thin out, and finally, they retreat. The Astral Candescence remains safe. And we have one last surprise.



Thanks to some of our fellow adventurers, the General Zazarg returns in the nick of time to congratulate us on our victory and give us leave to enjoy some breads and rice.