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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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...

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.

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.