"C'mere buddy."
...
The golden Chocobo stared at me with contempt out of the corner of her eye. I had been trying to court her for easily two hours by this point, and yet, she refused to deal with me.
Getting to Coerthas wasn't easy. First one had to get through Mor Dhona, navigating the large spires of crystal and the strange monsters that started to crawl about the place.
One of those monsters being a Giant Toad, or a type of monster that looked like one. I didn't need the bestiary to explain how those beasts operated. Every XIV player went through a variety of ritual humiliations, and this thing was one of them.
Their disgusting forms were about the size of a small house, but what made them so terrifying was their tongue attack. Not only could you not evade it, but it was also as fast as a bullet. After being snatched by that tongue and yanked straight into hell, your character was put directly into the middle of the creature's next attack.
An AOE Body Slam.
Even if you used the Sprint Skill, it wasn't easy to evade that attack, and naturally, the Body Slam did insane damage.
The best way to deal with Giant Toads was to just not get in range. Of course, that meant you couldn't attack them either, but it was still preferable to dealing with that tongue as its opening move. The only way to prevent it from using that attack was to already be in close range when it spots you.
I had no intention if tussling with a creature like that, so being on foot in Mor Dhona was unacceptable. Mor Dhona had no Aetheryte as far as I could tell, and it also lacked an airship landing. As airships were already so restricted, I couldn't easily just hop aboard and ask them to drop me off.
So the only solution was to go through by Chocobo. This yellow feathered bastard in front of me stood at least 7 feet tall and strutted around, dodging my attempts for interaction. They kicked stronger than a horse and ran twice as fast, so I wasn't getting too close, but it was obvious me and her weren't getting along.
I got this opportunity to rent out a Chocobo thanks to Rowena's hard work. In exchange for delivering some letters with some interested buyers in Ishgard, I could use this Chocobo to get there and then leave her to a porter in Camp Dragonhead to manage after that.
After Ishgard pulled out of the Eorzean Alliance, they severely restricted their business of selling the birds, and so the usage of Chocobo was far lesser than I knew. In game, everyone and their mother got a Chocobo, a quest at Level 20 gave you one for free, then a sequel quest at level 30 unlocked the ability for the Chocobo to fight with you and even level up. Ishgard still wasn't in the Alliance by time 2.0 happened, so this was all very strange to me.
"You really won't come?"
Kweeeehh...
I didn't get it. There wasn't a Chocobo translator laying around anywhere. Did I have to grab a carriage to Camp Dragonhead? Nonsense. There had to be something about me that put the Chocobo off. Trained Chocobo weren't like wild ones. Anyone should be able to ride.
... Was it my hair? An old concern suddenly jumped out to consume my thoughts. What if creatures could see how absurd the color was. I gingerly covered my hair, blocking it from the Chocobo's view, but she looked at me like I was mentally challenged. Or that's what it felt like.
"Ugh. I don't know what you want from me, but you are quite literally the difference between my pleasurable and peaceful Slice of Life sliding back into an absurdly violent Action genre. Can't you have mercy on me?"
I decided to be candid with the bird. Everyday was a fight to keep everything as normal as possible for as long as possible. I wanted to enjoy my peace for as long as I could. Unlike those monsters who trained mindlessly to one shot the final boss, as a mob without the Echo, I had no such burden on my shoulders. Why would I wait for the epilogue to enjoy myself? How absurd! Though, this sentiment, while genuine, didn't really seem to reach the Chocobo's ears....
"...You do have ears, right?"
...Kweh.
It was a useless question as Chocobo didn't understand human speech. I didn't have the Echo, so I couldn't just-
"Oh, I'm an idiot."
I directly got up and fetched my Minfilia. Since I was still in Eorzea, I had easy access to her. It didn't make sense to bypass that. Such an advantage would leave me after reaching Coerthas, I intended to take full advantage of her uncanny ability to speak to Moogles later on as well.
---
"And I'm not sure what to do about it..."
I came back to what I assumed were Rowena's personal stables, covered in bite marks and lacking 3 to 5 hours of time.
"Hmm, which one was it?"
I pointed out the problem bird to my Minfilia, who seemed to be glowing and filled with energy, as well as my cum. Was she getting more powerful? Or was I still drained after the Heavensturn celebration. A new year that greeted me in the form of six days, locked in my room, and brought down to the depths of hell over and over. I could have died. Seriously.
'7?! 7 wives?! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! I'm scaaaaarrreeed!!!'
Minfilia and I walked over to the Chocobo, who now wore a weary expression. With me it was disregard, but with Minfilia, it was caution. What was this energy? Were they incompatible somehow?
"Ok, I've bought my beast translator."
Minfilia gave me a deadpan stare.
"So, I'd like for us to make a deal-"
"Shall I take you here in the stables? I do not mind the Chocobo watching us."
"I-I-I'd like for us to make a d-deal! I'll provide everything and anything you need in exchange for our journey!"
"Ignoring me, hm?"
My body unconsciously shuddered in a fit of joy and horror. The entire lower half of my body was numb. I really needed time to recover. A week straight was too much even for my abnormal sex drive to handle!
Minfilia strongly pressed her massive bust into my chest and stroked my thigh with practiced ease, uncaring of my fatigue and triggering my senses recklessly.
Kiiss-sluuurp-smooch-pop
A slick and familiar tongue tangled with mine and made my little brother, who should've been down and out, come back to life. I moved my hands, sticking them under Minfilia's thin shirt and strongly groping her titanic beasts, their weight and softness filled my hands with a electrifying warmth that I woke up to damn near every day by this point. I still couldn't tire of it.
Kweehh...
"nnm-sluuurp-pah hah...to Coerthas."
Kweeeehhhh??
"huff Does that puff matter? It must be better than mnn! staying cooped up in here."
...
I put the pieces together in my head and silently assumed that it was asking me where I wanted to go all this time. While dry humping my woman's thick thighs, it finally occurred to me that the repeating Kweh noise in my ears might have been a question of sorts. But if it was asking where...
"Then, you could understand me?"
Kweh.
I didn't need a translation for that.
How terrifying! Imagine if I had poured my heart out to this bird by accident! Would it blackmail me?! Why could it understand human speech?!
"Heehee~ She thought you were too dumb to know what the route was. MNNN! M-Most riders ask her if she was ready to g-go to a destination. You were the first to try and hah bribe her before explaining."
Keeweehh.
"The second."
"What happened to the first?"
The Chocobo scratched the ground with her massive talons.
"He had to walk. I think."
Poor guy.
---
"Look at that one...it's impossibly round!"
Kweeweeh.
My Chocobo and I went out on a practice run so that I could get used to riding her. The trip from Ul'dah to Mor Dhona and then from Mor Dhona to Camp Dragonhead was likely to be just under a week. Once I was in Ishgard, it'd take another half a week to reach Master Matoya, assuming that it wasn't heresy to obtain a Chocobo. If I had to walk, then the trip would end up taking half a month most likely. There were no online maps or GPS coordinates in Eorzea. By starlight and compass I would need to find my way.
"Oh! It moved..."
We had taken a detour to blatantly mock one of the more comical creatures of XIV, the Dodo. XIV's Dodo was as round as a ball and had a beak that was as long as the Dodo's body was wide. The Dodo's eyes were silly looking and seemingly stayed in a state of being popped out of its head. The creature was supposedly exclusive to La Noscea. When this one suddenly popped up in Thanalan, I couldn't stop myself from staring at it and following it around.
"Do you think we could cook it? Is any part of that thing even edible...?"
Well I knew the legs were, but where are the thighs, breasts, and wings? How much of that round mass was meat?
Kweeh.
"Ah, you're vegan right? Sorry."
The bigger issue was that a Chocobo was also a bird...I stopped myself from asking what was on my mind. Eating a Chocobo would be like eating a cat or dog right? Yeesh.
---
"This is..."
After a 4 hour run, Francesca and I had arrived in a grassy dune area with a few tents huddled around an Aetheryte. We stood atop one of the many rocky spires that loomed over the area, casting a weak shadow on the occasional beast below.
I pulled out my map to confirm, but still couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"This is Camp Drybone? What the hell?"
In XIV Camp Drybone was one of the more frequently visited locations as it housed many critical NPCs for later questlines. The town sat deep within a crater of cold light brown sandstone and only by following a spiral pathway, carved into the side of the crater and crawling up, would you come across a church and graveyard, both similarly important for XIV's plot.
But this Camp Drybone in my eyes was wholly foreign to me. I hadn't done any adventuring thus far because it was never worth putting myself into danger just to satisfy my curiosity. That changed slightly now that I had Francesca, and I wanted to see the sights before the Calamity wiped these places out, or transformed them into unrecognizable shapes. This gaggle of yutes surrounding an Aetheryte was Camp Drybone. I didn't even know they had an Aetheryte. This "settlement", if one could even call it that, wasn't on the network registrar, most of the miscellaneous towns weren't. Thanks to a lack of military spending, I imagined that a lot of these places fell into disrepair, or grew too isolated and indignant.
'Do I even want to see the others?'
XIV was limited by its hardware, a fact that remained a problem even into 3.0. Considering the incredible graphical fidelity of 1.0, I had come around to understand that these terribly designed areas were part of the compromise that had to be made. All of Eorzea was this bland, rocky, hill-y, forest-y, sandy and cold mess. Reckless noise maps that were slapped in tune with bump maps. That probably meant Mor Dhona as well.
Kweehh!
"Does it look exciting to you? Fine, let's go for a run."
Without another word, I half-guided Francesca down from our perch and into the sandy grasslands for her to run around. There wasn't much here. And of what there was, they weren't too much to handle. Monsters were always dangerous, and I refused to ever take them lightly. Even a half-dead fiend was strong enough to take you down with them. DPS checks could all go burn in hell.
[Blizzard]
Leaning from the off side of Francesca, I swung my longsword, radiating a deathly chill, with all the force my right arm could muster. The tip of my blade slightly scraped against the sand, splashing and separating it into chiseled waves of icy silt.
Shhhiiii-Vwiiii-SLASH
It was faster, sharper, and more intentional than my normal Blizzard. Influenced by its casting medium, a white-blue half-moon of ice cut through the air and struck an unsuspecting spotted coeurl, rending into its body and sending it tumbling across the sands.
It died silently, scared and stiff, blood splashes manifested into bright red stalagmites that barbed out like the quills of a hedgehog. Even the sun seemed to flinch away from melting the frozen blood nails that jutted into the air, serving as a deterrence for any other beast that was privy to my particular breed of natural selection.
Mages were not to be trifled with. Once again, my thoughts reinforced themselves.
In XIV, they enforced a serious combat back and forth between opponents. Some called it a holdover from XIV's ambition to emulate the turn-based combat of older Final Fantasy games. You were guaranteed to be hit, if not by an ability, then at least by an auto-attack. In reality however, battles seldom took that long if you had the right tool to handle your enemy. That Goobbue I faced for example, weak to sharp things, but blunt orbs of Blizzard did nothing but impact its tough skin. Meanwhile, this coeurl could dance with a swordsman and drive him to an exhausted grave, but it wasn't going to easily dodge magic. Especially when taken by surprise.
clink
I felt my longsword snap back onto its magnet. The weight transferred to my whole body and by proxy my Chocobo, though if she felt it, she had no comments about its weight. The best part was that using my blades as a medium didn't require any extensive cleaning afterwards, not that it mattered, as Purify handled most issues in terms of filth. Though, if I were to get the blade corroded in hellish places like the Aurum Vale, perhaps I'd have a different string of words to say.
"Ok, we can continue."
Kweeh!
Coeurl, were basically jaguars with a pairs of long thick whiskers that channeled electricity and a snake-like tail that did nothing but look cool. These beasts had a troublesome ability called Charged Whisker. As one might assume, it inflicted one of the deadliest status effects you could be hit with outside of boss fights, Paralysis. They were also somewhat obsessive. If you spotted one early in the day, it may stalk you for many hours and kill you while you rested in camp. Some enemies could be ran from, and I preferred to do that, but others like that guy were trouble for sure. They had to be dealt with on sight. Coeurl were solitary hunters, so I didn't mind taking one on by itself. A shiver ran through my body. How horrifying would it be to face a pack of these things? Well that was something the Warrior of Light would have to do. Not me. Don't think silly thoughts, Winter.
My eyes somewhat glazed over watching the seemingly endless expanse of grassy sand and tall view-blocking cliffs.
'Somehow, a bit of the magic is gone.'
Those cliffs were put there to obfuscate the player's view, allowing the developers to unload everything behind it. Ul'dah was empty because adding too many objects would kill the frame rate. Gridania was a mess because every turn had to hide 8 other turns for proper culling. I had expected things to be like that in a way, as I was familiar with XIV's sticking points. I felt the pain of limited housing and storage just like everyone else.
I wasn't sure why Camp Drybone was the key to making me fully understand, but that sad excuse for an "town" was too laughable. That old feeling I had upon first arriving here, the dissonance that said things weren't quite right... I could feel it. A pressure started to build behind my eyes as we continued to trot through the desert. I still couldn't identify it, that feeling made me feel slightly sick, like I wanted to puke something up, yet I couldn't.
"Sigh"
'Annoying. Seriously...Hm?'
Just as I was getting ready to turn back, I saw someone come out of the biggest tent in Camp Drybone, not that it was saying much. Silently I steered Francesca behind a dune and began to circle the settlement from afar. I didn't want to be seen and recognized easily.
I continued to put distance between me and Camp Drybone, keeping the tent in-between me and the person that just walked out. Whatever nonsense that bastard was up to... could I leave it alone? What was that crazy son of a bitch doing out here?
I soothed Francesca quietly and moved to perch us back upon the cliff that overlooked Camp Drybone. The cliffs that I was just cursing, now became the perfect cover to keep an eye on my target. I wanted to leave it be, but if that bomb went off after I left my women alone, I'd be kicking myself until I was dead. Why did it have to be him?
The path towards the cliff was steep and winding. On Chocobo, it wasn't difficult, but on foot, it'd be a disaster. I left a Warp Marker in the eroded earth behind my hiding spot. It glowed slightly when initially dropped, but then dimmed in color and shine upon stilling in the crags.
It didn't take too long for me to get back to the top of the cliff, I left Francesca near the Warp Marker. I couldn't risk a pursuit if things came to that. I would need to break line of sight immediately, making it obvious that chasing me would be a fool's errand. Only idiots would turn around upon being spotted and begin to run to their destination or hideout.
'...Corguevais...'
The mage from years ago, I almost forgot him. During the parade, it was him who conspired with that foppish idiot of a scion, knowingly or not, and then failed to control the Goobbue who then rampaged through the streets of Ul'dah. His sand blonde hair was still slicked back in a poor man's imitation of dignity and poise. He wore a disgusting worm of a handle bar mustache, and traditional robes that were obviously dirty and tattered. I was too far away to glean any other details like if he was armed or not.
He stumbled about Camp Drybone, obviously disoriented and talking to himself. Did he go mad? Thancred didn't talk much about that man's role in the events that played out, but my F'lhaminn surely did. At some point, he had kidnapped Ascilia and planned to take her back to Ala Mhigo, considering that the girl didn't have any family left, his motive for doing so was questionable.
I was told that he felt immeasurable guilt for the part he played, but bafflingly enough, when F'lhaminn came to bring Ascilia back, he possessed the very same horn that caused the Goobbue to go wild in the first place. He blew it, which summoned countless monsters to attack the girls and if it weren't for Nielle's other goons, who wanted Ascilia to tell her secrets and explain what Warburton was hiding, they'd both be dead. This strange coward then proceeded to run away, and even Thancred couldn't find him. He was a loose end that was as mysterious as the man that we saw in the Echo, stabbing Nielle and leaving him to die.
Were they one in the same person? Unlikely. This bastard here had already long since fled Ul'dah by time Nielle was killed. I kept watching him from behind my perch, trying to be aware of my surroundings as well in the meantime. It was a cliché to get caught off guard by a sudden x-factor that could sneak up behind me.
Corguevais continued to stumble about the camp, digging into the sand underneath one of the simple wooden tables, and yanking out what looked like a cheap bottle of booze. He continued to yammer, but I was too far away to tell what he was saying. I didn't dare to use any magic, he was still a Thaumaturge after all, I wasn't interested in him finding me so easily.
'Still, I don't see the horn. Maybe it's inside...?'
Why was he here? Who was he talking to? And more importantly-
'Do I kill him?'
Such a thing was going to come up eventually. XIV had you killing bandits, guards, sentinels, and royalty just as much as you killed monsters. Those who were enthralled for example, they couldn't be saved or unenthralled as far as I knew, thus the only solution for them was to die. I wasn't against killing and it wouldn't be my first time either. The bloodsands had purified me long ago. However, that didn't mean I was interested in killing for no reason at all. It still wasn't pleasant.
I couldn't just leave him alone right? But at the same time, he never appeared in the story of XIV again. Maybe I missed a side quest with him, but after the Calamity, many NPCs were taken out of the game and even more story-lines were cut. The entire fiasco with Nielle was something that I believed was one of those very story-lines. A mystery murderer that was intended to be revealed in time, but the game died and was reborn before the writers got around to it.
I watched as Corguevais stumbled back into the tent he once emerged from, spilling his drink all over the ground while doing so. Was there someone in there with him? I didn't want to know. I couldn't let him go, right? Even if he never popped up again in XIV, this wasn't the game. I couldn't be sure that he would never be a thorn in my side again. I didn't know where the horn was, or if he was talking to himself. It was possible that a co-conspirator was in the tent. It was also possible that they were just a whore to help him fend off the loneliness that undoubtedly came from being out here, seemingly alone.
Did he know Niellefresne would be assassinated? Where did the horn come from? Who did he collaborate with? Why did he try to take Ascilia back to Ala Mhigo? Who was there, in Empire controlled territory? Why was he here and not there? Was this a pit-stop, or his original destination?
I didn't want to know. Or rather, I didn't need to know. In the end, all those questions would answer themselves if he died. If nothing changed, then I over reacted. If things did change, I could learn just how far this rabbit hole went.
My strongest spell was Fire. No tricks, no fancy combinations, no unique Dynamis. If I casted Fire, using my longsword as the medium, that tent, and anyone inside were going to end up being nothing but ashes. Fire, Umbral Fire especially, was hot enough to melt most basic armors, let alone those shabby cloth robes. Thaumaturges didn't have any Protect or Stoneskin type spell. If I casted this, he'd be dead. I'd go in to check, then use my Warpstone to come back if he wasn't. But before then, I'd need to cast at least three Fires, just to be safe. It was another cliché for the attacker to arrogantly walk away after assuming their target was dead.
If I could shatter his soul, I would. It was bad practice to allow for reincarnation or some kind of soul reading technique to find my traces. One could call me paranoid, but I took great pride in my genre-savvy knowledge. My Slice of Life could not be interrupted by bullshit like this.
'But do I really have to?'
He never appeared in XIV again. He was already a forgotten character. Even I forgot about him. I was ready to move on. But what if?
...
In the future, I would need to take even more extreme measures. Could I continue to be hindered like this? Someone had to serve as the Voice of the Mother. Someone had to die. I alone would be offering their life onto the metaphorical altar. I had to temper my will. Was this not an exercise? A test? No Aether storm to cool my nerves or shield my will from the forging flames of choice.
I sat in silence for an amount of time that I couldn't measure. I watched the tent carefully, always being sure to never keep my gaze on it for long, else someone would sense my intent. I felt calm, fine, normal. It was said that snipers had one of the lesser rates of PTSD within infantry because when you're so far away, you don't really feel the trauma of taking a life. The disconnect allowed you a measure of meditation and calculation. Not that I'd know.
I looked up at the sky.
I tapped my index and thumb together repeatedly, contemplating my options. It was only now that I realized how smooth the pads were, it was like I didn't have a fingerprint. I obviously did, but I felt no friction in-between my fingers. How was I able to snap?
It was getting dark. The trip was long to get here, if I left now, I'd be able to return a few hours after midnight. Riding through the dark of the desert was a reminder of how I ended up in Eorzea. A funny tale that I was retelling myself to avoid choosing at that moment. But I could retell it no longer.
I felt the Aether surge within me. It seeped through the pores in my skin and infected my lungs with a caustic and intense heat. I could here a ringing in my ears, not the sound of bloodflow, but actual ringing bells. I felt was closer to something at that moment.
I expected a call from one of my women if I was too late. I didn't want to worry any of them. They had to have confidence in my ability, else they wouldn't be able to take their leading roles in the story to come. I had to come back unscathed, unblemished, and unbothered.
I blinked, watching the massive rivers of Aether flow through the sky like the most beautiful aurora. The rivers snaked and twisted, always careful not to overlap. They seemingly spoke to me, sizing me up, granting me permission to use them as I pleased. The bells continued to ring. I could leave him alone. I could continue on as if I had never run into him. This was just cosmic coincidence and not an act of the Twelve to guide my hands.
There was no use thinking on it any longer. I had to get home. I wanted to drink a bottle of applemelon cider and watch the peoples of Ul'dah milling around, going about their busy afternoon days. I wanted to bathe in the sunlight, knowing it wouldn't make my skin any less pale. I wanted to cuddle in the warmth of my bed, hugging my women and ignoring the responsibilities we all had. I wanted to joke around with my siblings and call Thancred annoying nicknames.
Without another word, I shook my head and stood up. Home was waiting. I had to go home.
I glanced at Camp Drybone one last time... and then drew my longsword.