Author Archives: Keishinrei

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

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

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

J’nasshym: Good evening, miss. I assume you’re the underdressed “lady” Baderon mentioned?
J’nasshym: (sniff) I see he was not exaggerating…
J’nasshym: Ahem. I’ve chosen these especially for your debut in polite society. Fear not, I’m certain you will absolutely adore them.

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

Bowlord Lewin has information regarding your role in Greenbliss.

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

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

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

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

Momodi wishes to enlist the aid of a trusted friend of Ul’dah.

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

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

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

Owyne: I’ve come as agreed! Now, show me the crown!
Garibald: Aye, you’ll have your precious crown─once we’ve been duly compensated.
Owyne: Do you think me a fool!? What assurance have I that you will honor your part of the agreement?
Garibald: Now, now, Owyne…you’re the least trustworthy man here. Not only was the crown stolen on your watch, but it looks to me as if you’ve violated the terms of our exchange. Did we not say that you were to come alone?
Garibald: And given that you are not alone, what guarantee have we that there isn’t a company of archers surrounding us even as we speak, ready to feather me and my men the moment they catch a glimpse of the crown?
Garibald: You have made mock of our trust. The deal is off.
Owyne: Wait! Here’s your payment, as promised!
Garibald: (sniff) (sniff) …Aye, ’tis the real thing.
Garibald: Ahahaha! A thousand thanks to you, boy! You’ve succeeded where scores of thieves have failed!
Garibald: And now, at long last, we have it! The power to create an army of undying soldiers─The Traders’ Spurn!
Owyne: No…no, it can’t be! What have I done!?
Garibald: Surely you must have wondered what it was that you were handing over─what it was that seemed as valuable to us as the crown seemed to you? Or did you assume we were feeling charitable?
Garibald: Ah, but you must feel terrible, knowing that you’ve brought us the doom of Sil’dih. Worry not, boy─we’ll grant you a quick death and spare you further ignominy.
Owyne: There’s too many, Marion! Run! Run while you still can! I…I will do my duty.
???: It’s your duty to serve the sultana, lad─and you’ll be doing it for a good while yet!
Papashan: Sultansworn! Put these thieves to the sword and secure the crown!
Garibald: Sultansworn!? Hah! No matter! Kill them all!
Owyne: Master Papashan! But why…? How…?
Papashan: The General saw you sneak into the vaults, Owyne.
Papashan: He suspected something was afoot and ordered us to keep an eye on you.
Owyne: The Flame General…? He ordered you to look after me?
Sultansworn Elite: Master Papashan! More of them to the north!
Papashan: After them, Sultansworn─they have the crown! This lot sought only to delay us!
Owyne: Let us speak again back in the city!
Masked Mage: The source of her strength becomes clear…
Masked Mage: You may have bested the golem, but you will not fare so well this day.
Masked Mage: O mournful voice of creation! Send unto me a creature of the abyss, my thrall to command, that I may smite mine enemies!
Masked Mage: Your very being imperils the plan. You cannot be suffered to live.
Masked Mage: Unnngh… That the wisdom of the Paragons should be brought low…by mere mortals…
Thancred: Paragons? This is indeed a disturbing revelation…
Thancred: We had long suspected the involvement of the Bringers of Chaos─Ascians, to give them their true name.
Thancred: But we could not be sure they were responsible for the recent disturbances until now. As if the sultanate needed any more enemies…
Thancred: Hm? Have we Sharlayans crossed paths with Ascians before? Well, we’ve certainly─ Wait. I don’t recall telling you about my homeland.
Thancred: Ah, yes, that’s right─you’re one of the gifted.
Thancred: You know, this marks the third time I’ve found you in the midst of trouble. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a lodestone for it!
Thancred: Anyway, I’m glad I started following you around. Who knows what grand conspiracy you’ll stumble upon next!?
Thancred: I jest, I jest… Had I truly been watching your every move, I wouldn’t have taken so long to intervene in your latest altercation.
Thancred: But all’s well that ends well, eh? Our masked friend is no more, and while I very much doubt we’ve seen the last of his kind, his demise will likely grant us at least some respite. And on that note, I must away. Until next time, Marion.

Sultansworn Elite: Everyone is waiting for you, adventurer.

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