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.
Baderon: Good to ‘ave ye aboard, lass. Now then…where to start? Baderon: Back when I was younger an’ nastier, I earned me livin’ as a sellsword. In that business, if ye wanted to know what yer enemy was up to, you ‘ad to learn to read the orders ye prised from the cold dead ‘ands of ‘is mates. That’s ‘ow I came to know ‘ow to read yer message. Baderon: Truth be told, the script was only too bloody familiar. Them’s Sahagin letters, lass. An’ I should know─I’ve gutted more fishback messengers than I can count. Baderon: It gets worse, though… The plan to blow up the Victory is all in ‘ere, right down to the fine details. Baderon: Looks like they meant to raise eight kinds of ‘ell in western La Noscea, then ‘it the Maelstrom’s new flagship in the confusion. Baderon: The point bein’, the attack on the Victory weren’t the act of a few rebellious pirates─’twas a key part o’ some canny bastard’s grand plan. Baderon: But if I’m readin’ this aright, the attack itself came much too early. I’ll wager they panicked when they saw ye was on to ’em, rushed in to do the job, an’ buggered it up. Baderon: Hmmm… Them tattoo-faced bastards as they say was payin’ Ahtbyrm’s old man, they’re with the Serpent Reavers, right? …But none o’ their crew was there, was they? Did they ‘ave summat better to do, or what? Baderon: …Seven ‘ells! I’ve got it all backwards! That mess at the Victory─that was meant to be the bloody distraction! Baderon: The fishbacks ain’t interested in the Maelstrom’s baby! They’re after men, just like they’ve always been. They’re sendin’ their pirate lackeys after a civilian target. Baderon: This bit about raisin’ ‘ell in western La Noscea…that’s where it’ll be. Summat tells me Swiftperch is about to get ‘it, an’ ‘it ‘ard! Baderon: ‘Ere’s a rough translation o’ the message. Baderon: Take it to Commodore Reyner at the Coral Tower, an’ tell ‘im ‘e’s in fer a busy day. Baderon: Oh, an’ give ‘im an ‘and, eh? Ye can be damn sure ‘e’ll need one.
Reyner: Yes, I am Reyner. Ah, you must be the adventurer whose name seems to be on everyone’s lips. Reyner: You are to be commended for your part in thwarting the plot to destroy the Victory. Now, what can I do for you this day? Reyner: You bear an urgent message from Baderon? Why do I get the feeling that my hopes for a quiet afternoon are about to be cruelly dashed? Tell me, what is afoot? Reyner: An assault on Swiftperch!? But we’ve seen nothing to suggest the Serpent Reavers are massing for an attack. Reyner: Even so, it would be foolish to discount the possibility─Baderon is rarely wrong about such matters. Reyner: I will marshal the Yellowjackets for battle immediately. Reyner: The only question is where to send them. While I concur with Baderon’s assessment that the attack on the Drydocks was intended as a diversion, Swiftperch is but one of several possible targets for the main thrust. Yellowjacket: Commodore, sir! Reyner: Report. Yellowjacket: It’s the Sahagin, sir! They’ve mounted a large-scale assault on South Tidegate, and threaten to overwhelm our defenses within the day. The garrison requests immediate reinforcements. Reyner: By the Navigator… It seems my decision has been made for me. Reyner: Muster the troops and give the order to march. Reyner: Aye, the Serpent Reavers are in league with the Sahagin. Reyner: …Which means there is every chance this assault on Tidegate may yet prove to be another feint. The fact remains, however, that we can ill afford to ignore it. And that leaves Swiftperch vulnerable to those pirate traitors. Reyner: It is at times such as these that I wish the Warriors of Light yet walked among us. But wishes will avail us naught. Croix, you must serve in their absence. Make for Swiftperch with all haste and lend your strength to the squads I can spare for the settlement’s defense.
Ryssfloh: Commodore Reyner sent word we’d be getting reinforcements, but I didn’t expect him to send you! You certainly look like you’ve seen your share of action, though─you bear little resemblance to the wide-eyed whelp I met fresh off the ferry. Ryssfloh: In any case, do you know what you’re fighting for here? This place─Swiftperch─it was rebuilt by folk who stood strong in the face of every hardship the Calamity threw their way. Ryssfloh: And we’re not about to let some fish-fancying scum claim the honor of being the ones who finally broke their spirits. Don’t give those pirate bastards one bloody ilm, you hear me?
Glazrael: Here they come! Serpent Reaver Deckhand: ‘Ere now, I thought all them Yellowjacket worms was meant to be busy. That useless scrag ain’t followed the plan, ‘as ‘e? Serpent Reaver Deckhand: Now what? Pull back and wait for our Sahagin brothers? Baenryss: Piss on that! We ain’t turnin’ back empty-handed! Baenryss: Remember, no killin’ the smallfolk, or it’ll be your blood what stains Lord Leviathan’s altars! Baenryss: The Yellowbellies ye can butcher at will! Them dirt-eatin’ slugs’ll be crushed under the full might o’ the Serpent Reavers! Ryssfloh: Seems Swiftperch was the main target after all, eh? Ryssfloh: Squads One and Two, protect the townsfolk! Squad Three, you’re our rear guard! Ryssfloh: The rest of you─we meet their charge where we stand! Let us bear the commodore word of our victory, or no word at all! Yellowjacket Infantry: For Limsa Lominsa! Baenryss: Rargh! I’ll gut all you Yellowbellies an’ dance on yer gizzards!
Ryssfloh: Well fought─the Reavers are beaten and scattered. Ryssfloh: I’ll take some men and hunt down the stragglers. Oh, but there may be more of them lurking about, so don’t let your guard down just yet. 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… Y’shtola: “Paragons,” did he say? Then it is as I feared. Y’shtola: They are known as the Bringers of Chaos…or Ascians, to give them their proper name. Y’shtola: It would seem our suspicions were correct─it is they who have been manipulating the beast tribes. Y’shtola: Pardon? You would know if we Sharlayans have encountered Ascians before? …I have never spoken to you of my homeland. How did you know whence I hail? Y’shtola: Wait. I do begin to see. You have been blessed with a special gift. Ryssfloh: Are you all right, lass!? If I’d known a mean bugger like that was hiding in the bushes, I would’ve left a squad or six to keep you company. Ryssfloh: Well, at least now we can call this kidnapping investigation to a close. Those Reavers were the ones spiriting folk away in the dead of night, and this bastard here was pulling all the strings. Y’shtola: A trifle simplistic, but not inaccurate. Y’shtola: I came as soon as I sensed his presence, but I never thought to find such a scene of carnage. Yet we prevailed. And thanks to your heroic actions, I have learned much. Ryssfloh: Aye, “heroic” is the word. I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been here, friend. Ryssfloh: And your assistance is much appreciated, too, Lady Y’shtola. Please give our regards to the Scions. Y’shtola: I am glad to have played a role in bringing what I hope is an end to this disturbing spate of abductions. Y’shtola: The thread of your fate forms a part of a most intriguing tapestry. Mayhap we will be afforded the chance to speak more in the near future. Y’shtola: For now, however, you must see this particular tale to its conclusion. Pray send my greetings to Commodore Reyner.
Reyner: Croix, eagerly have I awaited your return! Reyner: Word of your exploits is already spreading through the ranks. My troops and I owe you a great debt of gratitude for your timely assistance. Reyner: You have shown yourself to be possessed of a sure arm, a strong spirit, and sound judgment. Would that Limsa Lominsa had more of your like. Reyner: I have little doubt that you shall one day join the ranks of Eorzea’s greatest adventurers. It is but a matter of time. Reyner: Clearly, Baderon’s eye for potential remains as sharp as ever, though I doubt even he imagined you capable of such feats. Reyner: Might you favor me with your own account of the day’s events? Such victories bear retelling! Reyner: Y’shtola has been working with us for quite some time, you see. Reyner: And she was only too willing to assist the Yellowjackets in the kidnapping investigation, proving herself a stalwart ally of Limsa Lominsa yet again. Reyner: Needless to say, after your part in thwarting the attempted sabotage of the Victory, and the small matter of your deeds at Swiftperch, you too have proven yourself a valued friend of the thalassocracy. Yellowjacket: Admiral! Reyner: May I present to you Admiral Bloefhiswyn. Merlwyb: So this is the adventurer I’ve been reading about in the field reports. Merlwyb: I am Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, Admiral of Limsa Lominsa. Merlwyb: On behalf of my people, I bid you thanks for the deeds you have done this day. Merlwyb: A token of our gratitude. What worth is high regard without just reward, after all? Ha! Merlwyb: Since you first set foot in our city, my good friend Baderon and Commodore Reyner have taken turns at regaling me with tales of your exploits. Merlwyb: Safe to say, they left an impression. Join me at the coming banquet. Merlwyb: A seat of honor at the celebratory feast is the least I can offer the woman who foiled the Sahagin. Merlwyb: Oh, and don’t be late. Merlwyb: Your fellow guests will be eager to take the measure of their newest hero, and some do not take kindly to being kept waiting. Till then, may you walk in the light of the Crystal.
Miounne has a mind to assign you a mission of great import.
Mother Miounne: Time is of the essence, so I shall speak plain. Mother Miounne: Based on Luquelot’s observations, the Ixal have designs on the Guardian Tree, and they mean to act soon. Mother Miounne: The tree is the oldest living thing in this ancient forest, and it is held sacred by every forestborn Gridanian. Mother Miounne: Should it come to any harm, the elementals would fly into a rage beyond pacifying. I dread to think of the chaos that would ensue. Mother Miounne: There isn’t much time. We must act quickly. Mother Miounne: Mortimer, please see this letter to the hands of Bowlord Lewin, at the Seat of the First Bow in Quiver’s Hold. Should the need arise, pray put yourself wholly at the man’s disposal. I strongly suspect he will need all the able-bodied souls he can muster. Mother Miounne: The fate of Gridania hangs in the balance. Go swiftly, Mortimer.
Gods’ Quiver Bow: An urgent message from Mother Miounne? Very well, you may enter.
Lewin: So you are Mortimer Croix, the adventurer of whom I have heard so much. I understand you wish words with me. Lewin: Miounne has information on the Ixal, you say? Speak freely─you have both my ears. Lewin: …Matron forfend! They mean to defile the Guardian Tree? Lewin: Before Nophica, I swear those filthy birdmen will not touch it─nay, not so much as a single leaf! Lewin: Twelve help me! How can it be that neither the Wood Wailers nor the Gods’ Quiver caught wind of this? Lewin: I cannot help but think this plot bears the mark of the masked devil who has eluded us for so long. We must be wary─this incursion may be more than it seems. Lewin: Ah, would that the Warriors of Light were still with us… But this is no time for such idle thoughts. I thank you for delivering this message. You may assure Miounne that I will dispatch a unit of my best men to investi─ Gods’ Quiver Bow: My lord! Lewin: What is it!? Gods’ Quiver Bow: It’s the Ixal, sir! The Ixal have amassed at the Guardian Tree! Lewin: Already!? Bloody hells… Lewin: Mortimer─Miounne believes you capable, and I can think of no better judge than she. Lend us your strength this day─aid in the defense of the Guardian Tree!
Gods’ Quiver Instructor: The Bowlord sent you, yes? Good to have you with us! Gods’ Quiver Instructor: The birdmen have completely surrounded the Guardian Tree, and their calls grow more urgent by the minute. Gods’ Quiver Instructor: Whatever it is they mean to do, we cannot let them go through with it. They must be stopped, no matter the cost! Ixali Occultists: O mournful voice of creation! O mournful voice of time! Ixali Chieftain: Squaaawk! Attend me, all! Ixali Chieftain: To us, this forest, Tinolqa, belongs! Ixali Chieftain: Wisdom of Paragons, we possess! To our former glory, restore us it will! Ixali Chieftain: From this tree, a great crystal we take! Unto Garuda, an offering we shall make! Ixali Chieftain: Unfeathered ones and elementals, banish we shall! Our ancient home, reclaim we will! Squaaawk! Lewin: First squad, left flank. Second and third, right flank. Lewin: The rest, form the main host with me. It is high time we reminded our Ixal guests why we Quivermen are to be feared! Lewin: This position is yours, adventurer. May the elementals keep you! Ixali Chieftain: Squawk!? Ixali Chieftain: Interrupt us, you dare!? In your own blood, you shall bathe! Gods’ Quiver Bow: Impressive work, adventurer. Gods’ Quiver Bow: The Bowlord bids you hold this position. Enemies may yet lurk near, so stay on your guard. Gods’ Quiver Bow: We go to bolster the left flank, where the battle yet rages. Masked Mage: The source of his 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… Papalymo: …Paragons? Yda: That’s what I heard. Papalymo: The Bringers of Chaos…or Ascians, to give them their proper name. Papalymo: It would seem our suspicions were correct─it is they who have been manipulating the beast tribes. Lewin: Mortimer, are you unharmed!? Had I known this creature was near, I would have sent men, not called them away! Gods’ Quiver Bow: There is no mistake, sir─he is the one who stirred the Ixal from their nest. Our intelligence was reliable. Lewin: So this is the man who has eluded us for so long? Yda: Right! We finally got him! Papalymo: We sensed an ominous presence, and came here as swiftly as our legs would carry us. Yda: Well, it’s good to know what we’re up against, anyway. Lewin: My thanks as ever, friends. Lewin: Quivermen! Move out! Lewin: To say you played an instrumental role in the success of this mission would scarcely do justice to your efforts this day, adventurer. Upon your return to Gridania, pray visit me at Quiver’s Hold. I will see to it that you receive the thanks you are due. Yda: Hmmm…you’re probably wondering why we always seem to appear when there’s trouble, right? Yda: Well, trust me when I tell you that it’s almost never our fault. Despite what it looks like, Papalymo and I are actually helping the Gridanians. And we’ve been doing so for a good few years, too. Oh! Did I mention that we’re not from around here? Yda: Hm? Why, yes, we are Sharlayans! However did you know? Papalymo: So I wasn’t mistaken… Yda: Mistaken? About what? Papalymo: Nothing. Nothing at all. Yda: Awww! You always do that! Mumble something loaded with meaning, only to keep it to yourself when someone asks! It’s unfair! And it’s especially unfair when the someone is me! Papalymo: Oh, do calm down! I’ll tell you later. Yda: Hmph! I bet you won’t. Anyway, all’s well that ends well. Papalymo: …Quite. We’d best be on our way. Yda: See you later!
Gods’ Quiver Bow: Welcome back, adventurer. Your exploits at the Guardian Tree are the stuff of songs. The Bowlord awaits you within. Lewin: I have awaited your return, Mortimer. Allow me to thank you again for helping us to defend the Guardian Tree. Lewin: Not only did you put the invading Ixal to rout─you confronted the masked mage and his fell minion, and emerged the victor. Lewin: I have good men and women under me, none of whom give me cause for complaint─but you, Mortimer, are a class apart. Lewin: Your strength, your determination, your heart… Lewin: You have all the makings of a great adventurer. Miounne is seldom mistaken in her appraisals, and she is plainly not mistaken now. Lewin: Gridania is stronger for your presence. The Elder Seedseer will doubtless be pleased to learn that a capable adventurer like you has come to us. Lewin: Once more, I thank you. Owing to your valor, disaster has been averted. Kan-E-Senna: I am come to express my gratitude for your valiant efforts before the Guardian Tree. Kan-E-Senna: I am informed that an adventurer of singular talent now walks amongst us. You are he, are you not? Kan-E-Senna: My name is Kan-E-Senna, and it is my solemn charge to watch over all who call Gridania home. Kan-E-Senna: Well met and well come to our fair nation. Kan-E-Senna: It was your valor that won us the day, I believe. On behalf of all Gridanians, I offer you my humblest thanks. Kan-E-Senna: This gift I present to you as a small token of my gratitude. I hope that you will ever remain a friend to Gridania. Kan-E-Senna: Greenbliss is coming. It is an age-old ceremony to renew the bond between man and elemental. Kan-E-Senna: Over the centuries, it has blossomed into a joyous festival encompassing Gridanians from every walk of life. Kan-E-Senna: I should be most gratified if you would participate in the ceremony as Emissary. Kan-E-Senna: I look forward to seeing you on that most joyous of days. Kan-E-Senna: Till then, fare you well. May you walk in the light of the Crystal.
Fufulupa would entrust you with a matter of grave import.
Fufulupa: I salute you, honored friend. As acting captain, I should be much obliged if you would grant me a personal request. Fufulupa: In our efforts to ascertain the full extent of the former captain’s corruption, we have been poring over his personal correspondence. Fufulupa: Our search unearthed this sealed letter addressed to a man named Owyne. Fufulupa: But he is one of the Sultansworn elite! I can think of no reason why he should have any dealings with Baldewyn! Fufulupa: We now know that the former captain was consorting with a coalition of criminals… Could it be that Owyne was, too!? Fufulupa: This letter may well serve as evidence of their collusion, and so I dare not tamper with it myself. Fufulupa: But given the events of recent days, I knew not whom to trust with this information─until now. Fufulupa: I have chosen you, Marion. Pray bear the letter to Mistress Momodi of the Quicksand, and relate the circumstances of its discovery. Fufulupa: Not only is she a staunch supporter of the sultana, but she is well acquainted with the Sultansworn. She will know how best to proceed.
Momodi: Ah, Marion! It’s been too long! Dadanen tells me you’ve been keepin’ busy in Horizon. Momodi: I want you to know that I’m grateful for everythin’ you’ve done for the people of Ul’dah. Momodi: Even though you’ve seen the seedier side of our city, you’ve continued to help your fellow man. Believe me, the folk around here love you for it. Momodi: Hmmm? What is it? You look like you’ve got somethin’ to say. Momodi: …So that’s what this is all about. Momodi: Fufulupa’s thinkin’ Owyne might’ve been in league with Baldewyn─that this letter could be proof of somethin’ shady. Momodi: Well he needn’t worry. Owyne’s as loyal a Sultansworn as I’ve ever known. I haven’t the foggiest what this says, but─ Momodi: Wait a minute. Wasn’t Owyne the one who…? Momodi: Oh, hells… I’ve got a bad feelin’ about this. Momodi: Listen, Marion─I think I know what this is all about, but I need you to swear to keep it quiet. Momodi: If you’d rather wash your hands of this business, I won’t hold it against you. But if you’re determined to see it through to the bitter end, say the word and I’ll explain.
Ghimthota wishes to entrust you with an important task.
Ghimthota: Meredith. In light of your role in recent events, there are few others to whom I would entrust this task. Ghimthota: Since last we spoke, a curious missive has been discovered amongst the personal effects of Ahtzapfyn, the pirate behind the plot to sabotage the Victory. Ghimthota: This missive was penned in the most unusual script─a script we believe to be some manner of code. Ghimthota: Needless to say, anything which a proven enemy of Limsa Lominsa deems worthy of enciphering is like to be of great interest to the Maelstrom. Unfortunately, none among us can make any sense of the message. Ghimthota: In cases such as this, I am told the Yellowjackets are wont to turn to Baderon and his convenient…connections. Ghimthota: Thus I would have you deliver this missive to the proprietor of the Drowning Wench. Into his hand, and no other, do you understand?
Baderon: Ahoy there, Meredith! I’ve been ‘earin’ about your deeds at the Drydocks! Baderon: Ahtbyrm laid out the entire tale fer me. Poor sod was still reelin’ at ‘is old man’s part in the business, but at least ye kept the Victory from bein’ sunk afore she’d sailed. Baderon: An’ fer that, I owe ye me thanks! Baderon: Ye’ve really made a name fer yerself ‘ere in Limsa, lass. Folk know that when they need summat doin’─ Baderon: Eh? You need summat doin’? An’ what might that be? Baderon: …Ye want someone to read a message writ in funny letters fer ye? An’ Ghimthota thought I might know a man as could? Well, let’s see it, then! Baderon: Aye… Baderon: …I reckon I might know a canny bugger what can read stuff like this. Ugly sod by the name o’ Baderon. Baderon: Ye know, yer like one o’ me regulars now, Meredith. Baderon: Ye’ve never let me down yet, an’, Navigator ‘elp me, I reckon I can trust ye. Baderon: Ghimthota was right to want this message deciphered… We’ve got us some trouble brewin’, ‘ere, an’ no mistake. Get ready fer action, an’ I’ll explain.
Luquelot: My thanks for your kindness earlier. I hate to impose again, but I have need of your assistance in another matter─one of grave import, I fear. Luquelot: Of late, I have noticed that Ixali dirigibles have been appearing over the Twelveswood with increasing regularity. The frequency, however, does not bother me near so much as where they choose to fly─the patch of sky directly above the Guardian Tree. Luquelot: The tree is a sacred site, or so I was given to believe when first I came to Gridania, and thus I naturally assumed that the elementals would not suffer the Ixal to profane it. Yet the birdmen have been coming and going as they please, with nary a sign of protest from the guardians of the Twelveswood. Luquelot: And it was that which set me to thinking… Ever since the appearance of the much-talked-about “suspicious individual,” many and more strange things have been occurring in the forest. Could it be that he did something to the elementals? Luquelot: In case it proved useful, I have committed the details of my sightings to parchment, and would ask that you deliver the document to Mother Miounne. Luquelot: Please make all haste─I have an irrepressible feeling that something terrible is about to happen.
Luquelot: Have I mentioned that Leia’s egg has hatched? We have yet to settle on a name, but the chick is healthy, spirited, and incurably inquisitive. She will receive the finest care, and shall one day grow into an exceptional chocobo.
Mother Miounne: Hello there, Mortimer. Word of your tireless efforts at Bentbranch Meadows has reached my ears. The folk there have naught but the highest praise for you! Mother Miounne: You certainly have a knack for making Mother proud. Mother Miounne: Keep up the good work, you hear? Mother Miounne: Hm? A letter…from Luquelot? Mother Miounne: I haven’t the slightest inkling what this could be about… Mother Miounne: Gods be good… Mother Miounne: I have a mission for you, Mortimer. Suffice it to say, it is urgent. Mother Miounne: I fear it may also prove dangerous, however, so you must be prepared. Mother Miounne: Make what arrangements you can, and report back to me the moment you are ready.
Merilda: You are an adventurer, are you not? I know this is sudden, but I have no one else to turn to. Merilda: Last night, a gang of bandits from the Quiveron Manse were in their cups, and I overheard them discussing their plans… Merilda: It seems they’ve come to collect gemstones stolen from Copperbell Mines. Nashachite, I think I heard one say. They are to meet with their co-conspirator soon, at the Footfalls─ Fufulupa: Wh-Wh-What did you say!? Fufulupa: Illicit exchanges and shadowy dealings! The Brass Blades cannot abide such malfeasance! Fufulupa: Forgive my eavesdropping, Marion─I came to Crescent Cove merely to thank you in person. Fufulupa: I never imagined I’d uncover a criminal conspiracy right outside Horizon’s gates! Fufulupa: We must act quickly if we are to apprehend these thieves! I will notify Captain Baldewyn at once! Merilda: No, wait! You mustn’t! Oh, gods… Merilda: You must stop him before it’s too late! Captain Baldewyn himself is working with the bandits!
Fufulupa: Captain Baldewyn, sir! I’ve discovered something shocking, something horrible! Fufulupa: Someone has been stealing gemstones from Copperbell Mines and─ Fufulupa: Wait, those gauntlets, those boots─why, you’re one of Quiveron’s men! Sir, that man is a thief and a scoundrel! Baldewyn: …And? What of it? His coin’s good, and that’s what counts. Fufulupa: What!? Captain Baldewyn…are you working with these men!? It cannot be… Baldewyn: I told you to stay in Horizon, Fufulupa. It didn’t have to be like this… Baldewyn: They’d get their Nashachite, I’d get my gil, and none would be the wiser. Fufulupa: B-B-But, sir, what if your crimes are uncovered!? What if Lord Lolorito finds out!? Baldewyn: You godsdamned fool, don’t you see!? Baldewyn: I am acting under the authority of Lord Lolorito himself! Fufulupa: No… No! That can’t be true… Baldewyn: Why do you think people join the Brass Blades, Fufulupa? To serve and protect? Hah! Baldewyn: We’re not the bloody Flames here! We do this for the coin! Ser Baron von Quiveron IV Esquire: You there, adventurer! Do you remember me? Well, I remember you! Ser Baron von Quiveron IV Esquire: I am Ser Baron von Quiveron IV Esquire! You killed my brother, and now I’m going to return the favor! Baldewyn: Well, that settles it! It’s clearly in everyone’s best interests that both of you die! Leofric: That’s enough, Baldewyn! Leofric: Your partner is dead and your plans are undone. You’ve no reason left to fight. Baldewyn: Stay out of this, Leofric! I don’t take orders from you! Baldewyn: I may have spared your life before, but if you interfere, I will not show you mercy! Leofric: And what mercy will he show you, I wonder? You who have done so much in another man’s name. Baldewyn: What are you blathering on about!? Leofric: Every fisherman in Crescent Cove knew about your meeting, you arrogant fool. Quiveron’s men couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Leofric: Imagine Lord Lolorito’s surprise when he learned that a rank-and-file Brass Blade was using his name to advance a personal agenda… Baldewyn: He knows!? Seven hells! But I’m a captain, he wouldn’t─ Leofric: I was once a captain too, remember? And we both know what happened to me. Leofric: Well fought, boy. You’ve done the Brass Blades of the Rose proud. Fufulupa: Captain Leofric! Captain Baldewyn, he…he said that Lord Lolorito─ Leofric: Lord Lolorito wouldn’t waste his time on a small-scale smuggling operation. This is all Baldewyn’s doing. Leofric: What else did he say? That all our brethren are no better, and that each and every one cares for naught but coin? Hah! Mere excuses to justify his schemes. Leofric: Aye, we’ve no shortage of greedy sods, some who’d probably sell their own mothers into slavery if the price was right. Leofric: But there are men like you, Fufulupa─men good and true, whom the smallfolk respect. Leofric: Which is why I gave you the dagger. The Brass Blades of the Rose need a leader with honor, and you’re the most honorable man I know. Fufulupa: (sniffle) (sob) Captaaaaaain!
Fufulupa: Thank you for all your help, Marion! The captain and I will escort Captain Baldewyn back to Horizon. Fufulupa: Pray visit me in town when next you return! Fufulupa: Welcome back, Marion! So much has happened! Fufulupa: Captain─ahem, Baldewyn has been arrested and stripped of rank, which means the Brass Blades of the Rose no longer have a captain. Fufulupa: Until a new one is designated, I’ve been ordered to serve as acting captain of the Horizon garrison. Fufulupa: Though doubtless this is only a temporary arrangement, I will do my utmost to represent my brethren and protect the people of Horizon! Fufulupa: Thank you, Marion, for your service to the sultanate. You are a true hero!
Ghimthota, a captain of the watch at the Moraby Drydocks, wishes your aid in dealing with potential intruders.
Ghimthota: I am concerned, Meredith. It appears that the pirates I had you investigate are on the move. Ghimthota: They creep ever closer to the Drydocks, so I must assume they mean to target the Victory herself. Ghimthota: That ship is the symbol of everything Limsa Lominsa strives to become, and I will not allow these base scoundrels to lay a single finger upon her hull. Ghimthota: We must apprehend them before they put their plans into motion! And you, Meredith, are just the woman to do it. Ghimthota: Without your capable assistance, I fear the security of the Drydocks cannot be guaranteed. Ghimthota: Not moments ago, my guards submitted reports of suspicious activity in the area. Pray begin your efforts by listening to one of their accounts firsthand. Ghimthota: It matters not whom you choose to speak with, but be sure to question either Urswyrst at the front gate or C’nangho at the rear. Ghimthota: Any suspect saboteurs you encounter during the course of your investigation are to be interrogated. Report any and all findings directly to me.
C’nangho: Hail, adventurer. Glad to have another hand aboard to help shore up security. C’nangho: The gods know our reports would sit on Ghimthota’s desk gathering dust if it weren’t for the assistance of those such as yourself. C’nangho: Speaking of reports, though, I saw one of those mangy pirates lurking around the cliff near Empty Heart. I’d take a closer look before he has a chance to cover his tracks.
Shifty-eyed Sailor: Bah, spotted me, did ye? Well, yer too late─what’s to ‘appen is already ‘appenin’.
Ghimthota: So, you found me one of those pirates, did you? Ghimthota: I knew you were the right adventurer to ask for aid. Ghimthota: But what could these knaves be planning? “What’s to happen is already happening”…? Storm Soldier: Captain! Ungh… Trouble…at the shipyard… (pant) Ghimthota: Easy now, soldier. Who did this to you? Storm Soldier: (pant) Pirates… Out of nowhere… (cough) Stuck me good… Ghimthota: Gods below, we are not prepared for this! Ghimthota: The pirates, soldier, how many do they number? Storm Soldier: Not sure… More than I could quickly count… Seemed to be carrying…explosives… Ghimthota: Explosives!? Then there is no time to lose! Ghimthota: Meredith, you heard the situation. Make your way to the shipyard and engage these intruders! Ghimthota: I will see to this man’s wounds, then follow after. Ghimthota: Make haste, now!
Ahtzapfyn: Gahahaha! Never reckoned it’d be this easy! Still don’t trust those slimy bastards, but their plan worked like a charm! Ahtbyrm: Da! What are you doing, you great bloody fool!? Ahtzapfyn: Shut yer trap, boy. Ahtzapfyn: This’ll all be over soon. All that’s left now is to blow this ugly pile o’ driftwood into splinters. Ahtbyrm: Why would you do such a thing!? Have you any idea how important this ship is? What it represents? Ahtzapfyn: Aye, an’ that’s what makes it all the sweeter! Whatever it takes to knock some sense into me treacherous, backstabbin’ son! Ahtzapfyn: Imagine, a boy o’ mine givin’ up the pirate life to become a shipwright! An’ buildin’ a bleedin’ Maelstrom vessel at that! What under Llymlaen’s wide, green ocean made ye take up with these self-righteous shites!? Ahtbyrm: You’re the one with no bloody sense, Da! Don’t you see? The pirates had their glory days, but that era is over! Ghimthota: Ah! I wondered why Ahtbyrm never spoke of his father. I never would have thought… Ahtzapfyn: This ship’s a symbol alright─of everythin’ what went wrong with the world. An’ I mean to shatter it into a hunnerd thousand pieces! Ahtbyrm: Ghimthota! Meredith! Pray beat the tar out of this bloated sea slug, and make sure no harm comes to the Victory!
Ahtzapfyn: I…I must be gettin’ old, lettin’ some green ‘venturer get the best o’ me. Ahtbyrm: Da… Ahtzapfyn: (cough) That’s one big bloody ship. Big…an’ nasty lookin’. Ye made that, did ye…?
Ahtbyrm: My thanks, Meredith. I shudder to think what may have become of the Victory without your intervention. Ahtbyrm: (sigh) The pirates have made a right mess of things─I’d best get to sorting out the docks. Ahtbyrm: …And my thoughts could use some sorting out as well. Ever did my father have a way of turning my life upside down. Ahtbyrm: Pray convey my thanks─and my apologies─to Ghimthota.
Ghimthota: How fare you, Meredith? I cannot begin to thank you for the role you played in preventing this madness. Ghimthota: You defended more than a simple ship─you saved the budding hope of Limsa Lominsa from a violent demise. The day was yours. Ghimthota: It seems our security regimen will require much in the way of improvement if we are to truly keep the Drydocks safe. Ghimthota: …Ahtbyrm apologizes? Well, I suppose I can understand why he would feel responsible for his father’s actions. Of all those involved, this incident was hardest on him. Ghimthota: But, in time, I believe he will come to a single conclusion: the most fitting way of moving past his anguish is to see the Victory completed and in the water. Ghimthota: Ah, by the by, the pirates we defeated have been handed over to the Yellowjackets. Reyner’s men will be taking over the investigation. Ghimthota: Before the Yellowjackets moved in, however, we recovered a most unusual object. Should you have the time to spare, I would ask of you another favor…
Keishinrei 