4.2

Yes, I no longer actively play FFXIV.

That does not hinder my ability to talk smiggity smack about it when the need arises.

And this need arose.

Something else arose as well, but I will spare the details (read: my penis)

So, yesterday FFXIV rolled out patch 4.2 And because I am still part of the XIV facebook group, I got to witness people jumping ship.

Most of the main griping came from 4.2 changing certain jobs. Buffing some, and weakening others.

Of course, people complain that the "right" jobs weren't buffed and that they shouldn't touch anything else because their job is perfect and they want to be gods.

Having attained god status, I can honestly say it's not all it's cracked up to be. Miracles and stuff cost money, and daddy's a little broke at the moment.

So a while back, I made an entry about the launch failure that was Stormblood. More specifically, the broken NPCs that would not let you progress in the story line.

Having this big of a game-breaking issue, you'd think SquareEnix would have learned their lesson.

You would think wrong, you poor, simple fool.

4.2 gave people even more game-breakingness with another NPC that no one was able to access, and they had to do emergency maintenancing.

Also warrior was buffed to level crazy, and all the other tanks are mad, even though everyone else had been making fun of warrior for being a poorish tank. So, who's laughing now?

Bitches.

But wait! Look over here, quick!

While one train wrecks behind you, there's another, more colorful train wreck just over there.

*points to the housing areas*

People can now only buy one house for personal use and one house for FC use. Which sucks for people like StageReborn who own half the Lavender Beds, but cool for me because I probably lost my house already and it might give me a chance if I ever decide to go back!

Yes, 2018 is turning out to be the Chinese Year of the Bitch. More to come. Look forward to it.

Old Friends

Happy Monday, everyone! Hope you had a good or at least decent weekend. I know I did! Hanging out with friends is always fun. Even if you have the Taco Bell shits afterwards.

That being said, let me share with you something. Not the shits.

Way back when my LS was at its peak, I met two people in particular that helped calm my nerves when I wanted to strangle retarded dune parties. They were Jagermeister, and his wife Luuluu. We had good times together, mostly murdering. But a vast majority of the time we could be found hanging around Bastok or Whitegate just talking and having a grand old time.

We did Dynamis together, leveled a bunch of jobs, explored new areas when Wings of the Goddess was released.

Eventually, we transferred our good times to FFXIV when it dropped, and while it wasn't exactly what we expected, we made the best of it.

Remember when archer needed arrows to attack? Jager cornered the market on fang arrows. I found the easiest place to farm bat fangs and he crafted them like crazy. If I'm not mistaken, he had made something like 60 mil before the transfer to 2.0 happened. He stopped playing afterwards, so I'm not sure how much of that money he still has on his legacy character.

Either way, we still keep in touch and hopefully plan on more adventures to come.

This is Just a Tribune V

Hope everyone is having a great weekend! We're back at it again with another hilarious Tribune review! What do we have in store this time?

None other than the big bad wolf himself, the ferocious Fenrir. I'm scared already.

"That we can now live here in peace...under the blessed shadow of the Great Star Tree...is all thanks to the great hero, Karaha-Baruha...!" Perhaps you have met the wizened Tarutaru named Zayhi-Bauhi while walking through Windurst Walls. He is known throughout the city for his constant speeches praising the great hero of Windurst. Since the end of the Great War, much has been said about the heroism of Karaha-Baruha. Zayhi-Bauhi wanted to speak with a reporter to clarify the story. Dispensing with formalities, he got right down to business. "Listen up. Twenty years ago was right in the middle of that awful war," he said. "At that time, I had just graduated from the beginners class at the School of Magic. I could barely cast a fishing line, let alone a combat spell. Nevertheless, I volunteered to join the guards at Odin's Gate in Windurst Waters to help protect the city. "Even now, I still see it in my dreams. It was the night of the Siege of Sarutabaruta. My Caster Company was in the gate's lookout tower, preparing for battle. The magical barrier on the gate was Windurst's last line of defense from the teeming hordes below. We looked out over our doom; countless beastmen, and Goddess knows what else, covered the land as far as the eye could see..." In the middle of the war, while the majority of the allied forces were massed on the front lines, the Shadow Lord assembled thirty thousand of his best troops to put an end to the threat posed by the Combat Casters. Standing against those thirty thousand was the city guard of Windurst, who numbered less than a thousand--including Cardians. It was as obvious as a Yagudo campfire on a moonless night that the city was about to fall. He continued. "It was a face-off at Odin's Gate. Orders came from the division commander to our Caster Captain: 'Hold them off.' That was all. "The monstrous horde was bathed in the pale glow of the moon. Only a miracle would bring us through to see another dawn. Terror gripped my body and I lost my footing, tumbling down before the beastmen set against us... "I doubled over in pain. All I could hear were the metallic scrapes of swords being pulled from their scabbards and the blood-curdling cries of the advancing beastmen. They had seen me fall and were approaching fast. "The monsters rushed towards me like a wave in a storm, unconcerned with the spells raining down upon them. "I was doomed. But at the very moment I gave up all hope, there was a flash of light and a soul-shaking howl that resounded over the plains of Sarutabaruta! "I looked up to see a shaft of divine light stretching from the top of the magic tower toward the full moon that hung in the sky. "That's right! It was the great hero, Karaha-Baruha! He was summoning! It was an enormous beast! Right there! Above the tower! "And the battle took a tremendous turn! Each swing of the beast's mighty forelegs sent dozens of beastmen flying! The magic emanating from his immense body vaporized hundreds more! "Before we even realized what was happening, the beastmen were turning tail and fleeing. The humongous beast had broken both their ranks and their morale, and now he was hunting down those that had breached the gates to the city. Then, as suddenly as he had come, he flew off. It all happened in the blink of an eye," he said. The old man has likely embellished the story somewhat. But the miracle of Karaha-Baruha is well recorded in history books; it is not the subject of question or doubt. The story continued: "I was the closest to that great beast. Nobody got a better look! It's burned into my mind as sure as the Star Tree is! Even now, I can close my eyes and go back in time, seeing that magnificent creature bathed in the soft glow of the full moon, looking for all the world like the noblest of wolves. "Now listen good, 'cause I've never told anyone what I'm about to tell you. "I heard the hero Karaha-Baruha's voice when he summoned that glorious beast. "`You've done well in holding them off. Leave the rest to my servant, Fenrir,' he said. "Yes! That great creature was called FENRIR! Fenrir... I haven't said that name in twenty years." It is said that Karaha-Baruha gave his life to summon the enormous beast. So Zayhi-Bauhi is torn between love and hate for Fenrir. Perhaps this is why he kept the name locked within his heart for two decades. But why did he want to tell the whole story now? His answer: "Why not? It is my life's work to let the world know the greatness of Karaha-Baruha. "More and more adventurers are following in the footsteps of the great hero. That is a good thing, to be sure. But I cannot tolerate the constant and baseless rumors that we will soon see the rise of a hero greater than Karaha-Baruha. "The great hero is Karaha-Baruha and he alone! If you doubt that, just ask yourself, how many people have summoned Fenrir since that day? Not a single darn one!" Zayhi-Bauhi's story of Karaha-Baruha and the name Fenrir will surely spread across the world, and one day Fenrir's name will appear beside that of Karaha-Baruha in history books. "Let the name of the great hero, Karaha-Baruha, not be forgotten! May we exalt the names of Karaha-Baruha and Fenrir on high!" Ainworth

Now, I distinctly remember beating the stuffing out of Fenrir with nothing but a Carbuncle, so his presence no longer terrifies me.

I also remember him being a worthless summon, and more of a status symbol than fearsome harbinger Ragnarok. Still unsure as to why everyone poops their britches over this guy when Diabolos is obviously the superior avatar.

"My big sister says I can't come home until everrrything is sold." A sign like that would compel almost anyone to buy--and that's just what a Mithra named Ixl is banking on. She's posted this plea at her store outside Impromptu street bazaars often spring up on busy pedestrian avenues. Unlike the sellers at the auction house, those doing business in the bazaar have the opportunity to distinguish themselves by creating memorable signs. While many signs are simple and straightforward, saying things like "Welcome" and "Now taking orders," others are adorned with pictures. Proprietors don't always keep their signs updated to reflect their wares, however. I found one store billing itself as "The Fish Emporium," even though its stock consisted entirely of pies. Another shop, claiming a "wide variety of products," had only a single serving of juice left. As you can see, just browsing bazaar signs can be fun. But what passes through the minds of the proprietors and customers? I spoke with shop owners first. Many put as much care into their signs as they do their actual products. "I've tried to sum up my wares simply and clearly," was a typical answer. Any good merchant will tell you that attractive products and good prices are important, and that integrity is absolutely vital. But a good sign can do wonders for sales. Simple, clear signs like "Fruit Shop," "Junk Shop," or "Cheaper-than-the-AH Mithkabobs" draw in customers looking for the advertised products. Some shops have signs that are clever as well as clear. "Grandpa's Guns & Ammo" and "From Fresh to Fragile" in Jeuno display some of the proprietors' sense of humor. And who's to forget "The Crys-Taru Shoppe," a Jeunoan store run by a Tarutaru who sells crystals? While many bazaar customers would like to see more playful signs, the most frequent response was a request for more detailed descriptions of the wares. Adventurers travel all over the world, finding and selling a wide assortment of food, armor, and other items. Their bazaars frequently offer items you've never seen before. A sign that explains what they are and how to use them would undoubtedly help buyers feel more comfortable about spending their hard earned cash. Both buyers and sellers have legitimate concerns. The challenge comes in presenting your message inside the sign's limited space. However, I spoke to one merchant in Windurst with a somewhat different outlook. I met Himetti while she was fishing in Windurst Woods. She was selling a pair of boots she had acquired on her travels. Her sign consisted of merely five letters: "BOOTS." When I asked how business was going, she just laughed and replied, "They're not selling, are they?" This relaxed saleswoman was untroubled, though. Her thoughts were not on her sign or her sales, but fixed on the end of her fishing line. Looking at all the different signs reveals bits of the individuals who created them. This is what makes the signs so interesting. Even if you never shop at a bazaar, take a look at some of the distinctive signs they use to advertise. They will give you a peek at something different and more personal than the auction house. Contributor : Mizakura / Quetzalcoatl

It's hard to decipher, but this author is talking about your bazaar messages. You know, the thing you put when people check you that is supposed to catch their eye when you're selling, but ends up making them want to kill themselves because it's something dark and brooding.

I swear to Altana, the bazaar messages were 10% comedy and 90% edgelord memes.

Mine was particularly funny. It simply stated "I must have eaten Pinocchio, because this shit just got real."

Laugh, dammit.

No matter the strength of the enemy before them or the ferocity of the foe they might face, adventurers never give up the fight. But even these tireless individuals have found certain terrors that send the cold chill of fear down their spines. So what does it take to scare an adventurer? I set out to find the answer. "Anything that causes pain and boards a ship, I fear," said a Mithra named Kizzy. Kizzy and Wasenshi, both of whom I met in the port town of Selbina, told of their experiences being attacked by Sea Monks. "Sea Monks seem to hate land monks like me," said Wasenshi, a Hume. Not long from their first adventure, this pair finds terror in the prospect of boarding a boat that offers no place to run. Skilled beastmaster Shimaneco travels deep into mountain ranges or caves for days at a time to fish, hunt, or look for materials. Her most frightening experience came when she caught the scent of a particularly nasty beast. Terror struck when she reached into her pack and discovered she was out of the broth she needed to call her pet. It was the dread of knowing that she would face an opponent she had no hope of defeating. Just imagining such a situation makes my palms sweat. A paladin named Zenai said, "Monsters that are taller than me, I usually fear. But an unbalanced party is my biggest fear." For someone who has offered to bear the brunt of the damage dealt by monsters, having a comrade fall must be the most galling thing imaginable. But adventurers can have hair-raising experiences even in the safety of large cities. "I had just acquired a very valuable item. But when I put it up for sale at the auction house, I found that the price had plummeted," said an adventurer named Onji. "I meant to have the delivery service send something to a friend, but I wrote the recipient's name wrong and wound up sending it to someone I'd never met. I dashed back to retrieve it when I realized what I'd done," said Bouz. "I had just begrudgingly paid an exorbitant amount for a chocobo, but as soon as I got outside the city gates, I heard a call for help. I'm a white mage, so I couldn't refuse," said Jackrovin. If you're an adventurer, you've probably had a similar experience that made your blood run cold. Maybe your life was on the line or maybe it was just a silly mistake. Adventurers encounter a cornucopia of terrors, but those that I spoke to had one thing in common: they spoke as if they had enjoyed the experience. They are surely aware that conquering fear, instead of running from it, is the key to growing as a person. This is the adventurer's way of life. "The bigger the fear, the greater the feeling of achievement in conquering it," said a red mage, smiling awkwardly. His name is Yas. He likes traveling on his own to remote places, so he's seen his fair share of peril. He told me a story about forming an alliance to tackle a mission and taking on a leadership role. There's a lot of pressure on a leader. Pressure to ensure that the group has the correct information, that the parties are communicating properly, that everyone is ready, and that nobody falls in battle. This pressure was the most frightening thing he had ever experienced. But he persevered and led the group to the successful completion of the mission. On their return to the city, Yas's companions rewarded him with praise and adulation. And that remains one of the most satisfying things he has ever experienced. Adventurers battle against a wide variety of fears in the war to improve themselves. My own worst fear is deadlines. Thankfully, I had a great number of interesting and humorous stories, so I didn't have to worry too much. This time... Contributor : Myhal / Gilgamesh

Everyone knows my only fear is a retarded party in the Dunes, but what you may not know is I have a longstanding history with the Sea Horror. 

That dude scares the bajeebus out of me.

First boat ride Manaseph took me on, I was killed by him. I spent the next 10 minutes face down while he rampaged the deck, killing anyone and everyone. It wasn't until maybe four years later that my Samurai came back to settle the score, but the Sea Horror still haunts my dreams to this day.

Every adventurer carries a pack. For the well-equipped amongst us, it might even be deemed indispensable. In the course of their travels, many have found that their packs are too small. They often turn to a certain Goblin to have them resized. But what exactly are people storing in their packs? And why? We recently conducted an extensive survey of adventurers on this very topic. Naturally, the contents of an adventurer's pack vary with his job and role in battle, making for an interesting amalgamation of weapons, equipment, and even food. Those who spend time fishing, mining, and crafting pack their bags full of related tools and equipment. While everybody's pack is different, our survey uncovered an interesting and unexpected trend. A great number of adventurers are carrying and caring for items that they have no intention of using. They carry these things for a variety of reasons. "I always carry this with me. Seeing it reminds me of my friend and keeps my spirits up," said one adventurer. He then pulled a sparkling jewel from the bottom of his bag. It was a memento that he had received from a long-lost friend. Another adventurer carries with him a red carnation. He and his fiancee exchanged the flowers in place of rings. This carnation is no less red than the fires of the passion it symbolizes. Another adventurer carries a lone diamond. Her fiance, a goldsmith, asked her to hold onto it until he has the skills to craft a proper ring. There are some who still treasure the adventurer coupon they received the day they decided to journey forth into Vana'diel. Others hold onto a lucky egg, four-leaf mandragora bud, or wild rabbit tail that represents their dreams. Some even keep a Goblin die, just in case they need a "lucky" roll. Over half of all adventurers surveyed carry some kind of lucky item. Among veterans with a high mission rank that figure jumps to a startling 80%. Adventurers' packs can contain a wide assortment of treasures, and in their deepest recesses they conceal the bearer's fondest memories. Perhaps your own pack contains something that has a meaning far exceeding its use--something about your dreams or character, something that says more than words ever could? There is truly no end to the secrets that are revealed in an adventurer's pack. Contributor : Palulu / Siren

I'm gonna level with ya'll: I kept something really special in my bag for years. My friend Alana crafted a bronze dagger with her name on it and gave it to me. 

I love the concept of sentimental items, because it adds something personal to the game. 

Sure, it might be a dagger to you, but to me, it was something my friend worked hard to make and decided I was worth the time it took. 

It's the little things.

The twittering of birds outside my window alerted me to the break of dawn. I looked up to see dim rays of morning sun filtering through the shutters and shining across the bed where I lay curled in a ball. I lay wrapped in the overstuffed blanket mulling things over for several hours. After gathering my resolve, I pulled on the boots that I had tossed on the floor and hoisted my bag onto my back. The morning's glare washed over me as I pushed through the door. I took a deep breath and bounded down the hostel steps. My destination was the armor shop in the port district. I planned to ask the young lady who was running the shop where I might find her sister. If I could see her once more before leaving Windurst, I would be able to ask her about the young Hume she met ten years ago. With that in mind, I raced to the pier. "Hey, where's your sister?" I blurted out as I ran up to the counter. The Tarutaru girl gawked at me, her mouth agape. "Um, sorry, " I said. "The thing is, I'd really like to see your sister one more time. I need to ask her about the man she met. I think he might be an acquaintance of mine." I wasn't sure if she completely understood what I meant. She answered me very matter-of-factly: "I think she's at the Culinarians' Guildy-wuild. Today is her cooking class." The Culinarians' Guild was just a stone's throw from the hostel--exactly where I had just come from. I took off my jacket and started running back. I glanced over my shoulder as I ran. The girl and the storeowner were jumping up and down and waving at me. I waved back with both hands. I checked at the Culinarians' Guild, but there was no sign of her. The Elvaan cook I spoke to was a bit surprised when I asked about the woman. She had been peeling vegetables right behind him but had suddenly disappeared. So she couldn't have gone far. I left the guild and began searching the surrounding area. A quick sprint around the courtyard left me out of breath. I had been running at full speed with almost no rest since I had left the hostel. My knees were shaking. I decided to return to the Culinarians' Guild one more time. If she wasn't there, I would give up for the day. A grove of pink flowers was in bloom nearby, and as I contemplated the blossoms, a familiar hat perched atop a small body came into view. There was something about that person... I'd found her! This was the lady! I had to steady my pounding heart as I approached her. "Hi. I've been looking for you." She certainly seemed surprised, staring at me with her mouth agape. I chuckled when I realized she looked just like her sister at the armor shop. "What happened to your cooking class? You're going to need to know how to cook when you're married." I said. She flushed crimson; I must have struck a nerve. I squatted down next to her. "There's something I want to tell you...and something I want to ask you," I said. I recounted the details of my dream from the night before in the hope that it would match what had happened to her ten years ago. I told her who appeared in the dream and what they had said and done, to the best of my recollection. She fidgeted as she said, "I--I can'taru believe it! It's like you were there watching us!" So my dream had indeed been a "replay" of the past. Somehow, I had expected that. This was not the first time I'd had a strange dream, so the whole situation didn't seem quite so unusual to me. But who was the young man who visited her all those years ago? That was the one thing that I still didn't know. Such speculation was tiring. I lay down on my back, staring out into space. Several of the pink flower petals scattered by the pleasant breeze drifted down and landed on my face. But a certain cheerful laugh echoed in my mind and took my thoughts away from the fragile beauty surrounding me. His laugh... "By any chancy-wancy do you know who he was?" she asked. The question took me by surprise. I sat up. "I'm not really sure. I wish I did," I said. I turned to face her and told her about what happened during the Great War--about my father and my brother. She listened on in silence. "The city became a battlefield. And it was regular people, families with children--not adventurers or soldiers--who were doing the fighting. My brother was only fourteen at the time." "Waitaru here! I've got something-womething to show you," she announced as she scampered off, not bothering to wait for my response. I sat there in a state of both worry and anticipation. Eventually, I heard her high-pitched voice and turned to see her staggering toward me under the weight of something heavy. I stood up and ran to help her. She wobbled as she hoisted up a cloak for me to take. It had the same bright crimson hue I had seen in my dream. The resemblance sent chills down my spine. "This is the cloak he gave me. Look inside the lefty-weft breast of the cloak," she said. The rest of the world vanished as I turned the cloak inside out. Something in the elegant lining glinted. Embroidered in silver thread were the letters R.K. My hands shook and my mouth went dry as I let my fingers run over the embroidery. "Could those really be your brother-wother's initials?" I heard her speak, but I was unable to respond. She continued, her voice quavering: "The thingy-wings he sold to our store that day were all made from very thick fabric. He also said he wouldn't needy-weed this cloak anymore." Ah! Of course. He had said he wouldn't need any of the things he was selling--and he'd acted as if he had wanted to be rid of them. I was so deep in thought that my eyes began to glass over. "I've thoughtaru about this a lot," she said. "He probably-wobably went somewhere warm after leaving Windurst." Somewhere warm. In other words, somewhere further south. And then I remembered my conversation with the Elvaan woman in Sarutabaruta...

BOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG

Something something sister something something blushes.

12/22 Before presenting my account of the mission to the high priests this morning, I took a moment to review my journal. As I read, I began to see the great changes that had occurred within me during the course of my journey. When I set out on my mission, I regarded all beastmen as leading a barbarous and evil existence. But while I can now confirm that they are, in fact, barbarians, they are not the paragons of evil that I once envisioned them to be. Indeed, even if the beastmen were created to be the scourge of people, we can still meet the beastmen halfway; we can compromise. It is almost as if I have come to understand the beastmen. This realization spurred my courage. Then, leaving Leada behind in the room, I went to present my report to the expected clergy. In addition to the priests the abbot and Lord Mouchand, eneral of the Temple Knights were also attending. I am but a lowly monk, yet a veritable pantheon of high-ranking officials was present to hear my report. Though I was nervous and tripping over my own words, I managed to detail all of the events of my journey, starting with my departure from the abbey. I spoke of the Orcs who live for battle, the final moments of the Antica named Sector 2734, the Sahagin who showed an interest in the Goddess, and the Star Sybil's head lady-in-waiting. I told of my capture by the Yagudo, who are the model servants of an evil god and spoke of the Goblins that delivered me from Giddeus. I told them of the Quadav priest who feared the return of Gu'Dha. I explained about the Tonberry assassin that had snuck into our noble city. The priests listened to my story with accepting nods, appalled gasps, and polite inquiries. When my report was complete, Lord Mouchand began to speak. "Our fair country has a history of dreadful and bloody conflict with the Federation of Windurst and the Republic of Bastok. Indeed, before the founding of the Kingdom of San d'Oria, Elvaan were taking up arms against their fellow Elvaan. "We are resolved to wage war on those who deny the glory of the Dawn Goddess. However, we would also know the glory of the gates of paradise opening to the beastmen as well as to us. Do you believe it possible that in a decade, or even a century, we might peacefully coexist with the beastmen?" The general of the Temple Knights looked me straight in the eye. I nodded, choking up with emotion as I answered with a firm "Yes!" "Abbot, I thank you for the opportunity to meet this fine young man. We of the Temple Knights are pleased to welcome Joseaneaut," he proclaimed. I heard the general's words, but I did not trust my ears. Sensing my confusion, the priests explained the situation. The Temple Knights and the Royal Knights are the guardians of San d'Oria. The Royal Knights fortify the borders of the kingdom and protect us from the enemy without. They are brave, but that bravery sometimes leads them to violate their codes of conduct and, in doing so, even contravene church doctrine. The Temple Knights are therefore responsible for ensuring the fidelity of the Royal Knights. This role requires not bravery, but rather a deep and abiding faith, combined with an iron will to resist the temptations of unholy concession. I found it most surprising that the abbot would recommend me for such an honor. My report finished, I asked leave to contemplate the events of the day. I returned to my room to present Leada with the three Ranperre goldpieces that comprised her reward. The coins were of a value far greater than that which was stamped on their faces. Leada was nowhere to be found when I returned to the room. Perhaps she had grown bored and headed into the city to seek entertainment. I gazed out the window into the setting sun and contemplated my future. I still wished to meet with the Gigas to the north. But if I were appointed to shepherd the Temple Knights, I would certainly have many opportunities to bridge the chasm between people and beastmen. Goddess, calm the fluttering of my heart! 12/23 Leada returned to the room just before dawn. "Josea, Leada need help. Is okay?" she asked before I could even offer my greetings. This was unprecedented. I changed my clothes and we headed out into the morning mist that shrouded the city. I followed Leada into a blind alley, where I found another Goblin leaning limply against a stone wall. Leada explained that this was Gloomix, who had helped rescue me from Giddeus. A blood-soaked bandage was wrapped around his left leg. After the daring raid on Giddeus, Gloomix had headed north to join the battle there. When the tide of the battle turned against him, his friends were scattered. Somehow, he managed to find his way to San d'Oria. By the infinite blessings of the Goddess, he chanced upon Leada. He had also stolen a loaf of black bread from the inn and was being pursued by the Temple Knights. What misfortune this was! Goblin merchants are only permitted to enter certain sections of the city. The penalty for violating this prohibition is harsh; I shuddered to think what retribution would be brought upon a Goblin for such an act as theft. Were he to be caught, it would surely mean his life. "We's helping Gloomix!" The plea in Leada's voice moved me. With a suspected Goblin thief running free inside the city, there would be inspections at every gate. And even if he did manage to elude detection at the gates, a wound such as his would ensure his capture. It would...if he were alone. There was only one thing left to do. I would have to aid his escape and send Leada with him as an escort. She must also have already reached the same conclusion, which is why she came to me for help. This would be my opportunity to return the favor of Giddeus--even if it would sacrifice Lord Mouchand's trust in me. We headed to the port under the castle as the sun began to climb into the sky. Rather than leaving through the castle gates, we would row out onto the lake. Unlike the castle gates, the gates out of the port have but one guard each. It would not be difficult for me to distract a single sentry. The two Goblins climbed into a small boat at the pier and covered themselves up. I remembered Leada's reward just as I untied the boat, so I passed the coins to her. "Farewell, Leada. It would be my honor to once again journey with you," I said. "Josea be alright alone. Leada grateful. Bye." We shook hands for the last time. Leada sang merrily as she rowed the boat out onto Nartieneaux Lake:   One gold coin for many explanation,   One gold coin for many trans-lation,   Life makes one coin more,   But the most good reward,   I don't tell you, no temptation. I returned to the cathedral to write this, which may be the final entry in my journal. Now I must beg the Goddess Altana for absolution. I will be judged--perhaps even driven from the church. But I am neither conflicted nor pained, for I chose the path of bridging the gap between people and beastmen... Goddess, may your light shine upon the futures of both people and beastmen.

Hey there... *rubs my temples* Joseaneaut. How ya doing, buddy? Still sucking? Cool.

You really need to stay far away from every race of beastmen as possible, lest they think you represent the other nations and decide we are easy to murder.

You've been far, you've traveled all over the place. That's cool, bro. Now just go home and please stop embarrassing yourself around all I wish to murder.

That would be cool.

The Price We Pay

I get out sometimes. See the world.

The graphics are decent, but the main story is crap.

Did you know that retro gaming stores still exist? They sure do, and this is about one of them!

I was at a local mall because my girlfriend wanted something. A hat maybe, I'm not sure. She always wants something.

We walk past shops with stuff, very uninteresting stuff. When I spot it. Spawn Point Gaming.

I salivate, for this is my realm, and in it, I am king.

Walking closer, I see a big suit of Halo guy armor out front, and I start having PTSD flashbacks. I catch myself before fainting and head in. My body is surrounded by games.

Very, very overpriced games.

I go to the "retro" section, which I put in quotations because "retro" has a very vague meaning these days. Not only did the "retro" section have various Atari, NES, and Genesis titles, it also consisted of PS1 and PS2.

My body now feels old and decrepit.

As I scanned the shelves, my eyes filled with tears at all the titles I loved had been reduced to "retro" status.

Then this came up, and I was filled with rage.

This is being sold, in 2018 mind you, a game that is no longer playable because the PS2 servers have been doused in molten lead, for the low low price of $21.99.

Just the disc. It doesn't even come with a hard drive that you can place upon your mantle and tell your grandchildren war stories about how you breached the retard lines at the Battle of Valkurm.

I wanted to tell the guy at the register this must be a huge, world-altering mistake, but he was very busy in a meeting with General Tso, so I decided its best to leave it be.

Catching a glimpse of the military commander's eyes, I saw fear. Which was not surprising because, as everyone knows, General Tso's chicken.

*hold for laughter and wild applause*

Before leaving, I looked around the store for a Brady guide as well, because that would have been hilarious to do a few blogs on, but to no avail.

As a side update to my real life quest of finding old friends, I am currently in stasis, awaiting response from someone who could possibly crack this case wide open.

I will keep you readers posted. Until then, stay frosty.

Crappy Monday!

Hey, everyone. Here's a shocker: Mondays suck.

This Monday in particulars. Someone somewhere has angered a Jotun tribe and now Louisiana is covered in permafrost. Plus I had to work today.

Eww.

So I got to thinking about stuff while I was mindlessly pooping in the portable toilet. I give a lot of crap to Valkurm Dunes for being such a shitty place. But, pray tell, is the second most shittiest place in all of FFXI?

Well, I have the answer for you. Brace yourselves, because it may shock you to the point of cardiac arrest. Are you ready? Is your soul ready? It probably isn't.

The second most shittiest place in all of FFXI is

*drum roll*

Labyrinth of Onzozo

That's right, the place your mind repressed because it was a horrible decision to make when Crawler's Nest was too full. If professor Lupin opened a wardrobe and told you to think of your second worst fear, out would pop a cockatrice that would immediately petrify your healer.

Every. Single. Time.

This is disregarding Garlaige Citadel and possibly even Altepa Desert, although Altepa comes in as a close third. I have had decent to very-greatly-decent luck with both Garlaige and Altepa. Yet what Onzozo has going for it is the pure fuckery of the mobs placed within.

If you somehow have decent memories of this place, then fuckin' good for you. I had zero luck with parties here. For starters, cockatrice were a bitch. As stated before, they would do a petrifying gaze that would make you more stoned than a white dude with dreads at a Ziggy Marley concert.

Not to mention the fact that there was only one spot you could party, but, there was only one spot you could party. If some other group got the same retarded hair up their ass and decided to camp on top of you, you're fucked. There were not enough monsters to support more than a single party at a time. If you zone in and someone else is there, disband the party and uninstall the game. By the time you take a long hard look at your life, think about the horrible decision you made to come to that Godsforsaken place, then reinstall the game while praying to the heavens above for mercy, maybe the party might have realized their decision was horrible too and logged off.

What made this camp extra sucky was the fact it was designed for about level 38ish, just shy of every job getting their best abilities that would actually make that work. But by the time that happens, the exp drops off and everyone wants to die. And if you decide to go searching for harder pray, you're in luck, because the levels jump up like crazy the deeper you go until you're neck deep in a Goblin Alchemist's ass and your best friend aggroes Ose.

Good times.

Altepa Desert deserves mention because while the camp around the big ass mountain is viable and a cool place to take screenshots, it ends up being a random clusterfuck of stupidity as people spread out looking for the beetles that spawn miles apart. Anticans take up way too much time when you try to exp off them, and you're plainly just better off going somewhere else.

Like Crawler's Nest.

Crawler's Nest has to be the best place to level from 35 to infinity. The monster levels go up in tolerable intervals as you travel deeper, so pretty much every room is viable. Stick with that, and you'll go far, kid.

Eye Are El Gee Eph

IRL GF. That's what it says. 1337 speak, if you catch my 69-420.

Ok, enough of that stupid shit. You came here for funny, and I owe it to you after making you feel horrible for liking FFXI. Which you should, don't get me wrong. But Allow me to make it up to ya'll.

I have a bit of a story to tell, so let's gather 'round the roarin' fiar, rustle up some beans with fatback, and hunker down for another Asrail Storytime Excrapoganza™. Please note that I will not be mentioning any actual names or ingame characters because I do not know if this person still plays and/or stands outside of my window at night and salivates at the thought of my skin as a suit.

This particular tale begins, like most tales of horror, within the slimy walls of Crawler's Nest. I had been helping some random peasant murder water sprites for something Black Mage-related, when there came a shouting of the most sexual nature. As all shouting becomes eventually.

And, as all shouting that is sexual will eventually come down to, people argued over which race would be the most pleasurable to pound in the pud. Men, of course. Always men, with their penises. Some longer than others (ladies).

Then she came.

Like a bolt of lighting striking a magical walking vagina with other body parts, she came. From her mouth came the shout that Elvaan are the most sexually desirable, to which I gave a hearty "Nay, young lady, 'tis the Mithra of the land give the best vajoo, I daresay" or something like that. May have been closer to "Mithra are hot with boobs."

So we discussed, in length, the various ways Mithra were superior to Elvaan. There were many.

We eventually added each other to friend lists, and over the course of the next month, had various online sexytalk that probably ended in unmentionable activities. There was also phone conversations which ended the same way.

'Tis the will of the Gods, and who am I to defy that will?

Through the many late night talks, we discovered a mutual love for heavy metal, video games, and the sex; three things which rank high on my list of desired features in a mate. Also she was of legal age, which ranks pretty high as well, I guess.

I kid, I kid. I made sure of age requirements before I even started talking about how much better the Mithra could fellatiate my dangle-doo. I am a man of respect. Also, I would rather not go to jail and become someone's wife.

Said of-age-girl revealed to me that even though she lived and worked as an elementary schoolteacher in Canada, she had always wanted to visit New Orleans. I told her she should, which at the time, I thought would be impossible. Canada is like, a million miles away, after all.

But guess what happened.

She had rented a hotel in the heart of the city for a week long vacation, to which I promptly made up some story and took a few days off work. I'm just a nice guy like that.

I met her on a cold or warm morning-afternoonish of either spring, summer, fall or winter.

Let's not get into specifics.

The hotel she chose, which I can divulge the name, was Le Pavillion, which I can only assume is French for "One night costs your first born." I wish I was joking, but I just checked the prices, and it starts at $190 a night.

STARTS.

How did this girl afford to take a week off work and pay for a twenty-six star hotel while working as a snot-wiper for small humans? More importantly: WHY DID SHE DO THIS FOR ME??

I mean, I get it. I'm handsome and charming with a nice dangle bit. But at the time, I didn't have a vehicle (which I told her was in the shop, gosh dangit), and I didn't even have a full Viking beard.

We don't speak of those dark, beardless times, or risk invoking the presence of Dagon.

So I get to the hotel, she's upstairs wrapped in blankets, and the A/C is turned down to 'meat locker'. I give her a kiss and crawl into bed, falling asleep in her freezing Canadian embrace.

The next day was full of fun and exploring. Although I lived and ate small crustaceans in this state, I had never really took a leisurely trip around the French Quarter. We visited the few places I knew of. We ate at the Red Fish Grill, which was very disappointing. I took her to Reverend Zombie's, which she really dug, being all metal and whatnot. I made various charming jokes, pointing to things an asking if they had it in Canada. And we even booked a walking tour of the Quarter!

Walking!

Yay!

The tour was fun, and something strange happened. So, if you're not familiar, they have tours down here where a guide walks you around the city and tells you stuff. This one happened to be a ghost tour. We visited various spots where historical figures were murdered and/or committed sudoku.

At this one particular home, the guide informs us of an event that happened on a balcony overhead. A woman, waiting for her husband to return from war, is stricken with grief after learning he died in battle. She hangs herself from the balcony.

Sucks, bro.

As the guide is talking, I'm taking pictures of the balcony. I snap four pictures quickly, no more than two seconds apart. After the tour ends, I take a look at the pictures, and something catches my eye. The first two picture were normal, but the third had a huge glowing orb right above the balcony. The fourth picture was also normal.

I had to do a double take, because the orb was glowing and looked sorta like the moon, yet the moon wasn't out that night at all. We show the tour guide, and he tells us that it's really strange and we caught something unique. We fist bump each other, and kiss.

The girl and I, not the tour guide.

Do I really have to spell this crap out for you people?

Upon returning to the hotel, we notice a vast amount of kids and adult with Jesus type clothing giving us dirty looks, as we were naturally clad in the cold embrace of darkness. Turns out the week she decided to visit was also the week a Lutheran convention was happening in town. Thousands of Bible-thumpers avoided our path and made the sign of the cross while spraying us with holy water.

No fucking joke. Someone sprayed me with holy water because I was wearing a Cannibal Corpse shirt depicting cadavers in various stages of mutilation.

Good times, bro. Good times.

We get back to the room and she inquires as to weather or not I have seen the TV series Dexter, because she brought the first season on DVD and wanted to watch it. I had not seen it at the time, and told her I was interested, so she calls room service and had them bring up a DVD player.

We start watching, and it's a pretty sweet show. Crime scene blood splatter analysis guy solves crimes while covering up his own murders for personal reasons. Pretty sweet. But you know what else was sweet? All that blood got her hot and bothered. That night, we did the sex. And it was pretty... embarrassing.

We were both nervous, and it was all wet and stuff. Just not a very good time. Afterwards we never spoke of it again.

The next few days, she spent most of her time talking about Halo. Which I never really cared for, but to each their own, yet when that's all you start to talk about, it gets a little annoying. She showed me videos of Halo players and told me about how her main aspiration was to become a professional Halo player.

Read that again. Professional Halo player.

*Rubs my temples*

It's about this time I wish she would return to the land of maple syrup and beavers, yet there she remained. Just her, me, and iGotUrPistola.

Needless to say, we lost contact after she left. It wasn't a bad thing, just probably not what expected. We were young, and I had not yet grown a beard of wisdom. Yet it will always be something I treasure. It's experiences like that which make life worth living. And if you let a little not-too-great sex interrupt your flow, you're not living at all, man.

In conclusion, I say to all of you: Go for it. No matter what it is, just go for it. Bad times will always be present, yet it's those bad times that make us who we are, and make the good times even sweeter.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

Addiction

Hey, guys. I know it's Friday, so you have free time. Come sit down for second.

Sit down, right over here. That's right. We need to have a talk.

Even though I joke about how addicted I was to FFXI, looking back, it was a bit scary.

Any addiction seems scary in hindsight, but the fact that I didn't even know it was an addiction is what frightens me the most.

I wasn't lying at all when I said I would wake up in the morning and play until I fell asleep.

That was my life for a good while.

It caused problems with my family. I almost got into a fistfight with my mom's boyfriend over it.

But I didn't see anything wrong. I was just playing a game. Having a gay old time.

Happy time. Having a happy time.

Nothing gay about my time.

I was eventually shipped out to Louisiana because I was just lying around all day playing. When I started working and could afford it, I got the game again and starting doing the same thing.

Come home from work, and play all day.

Some days I wouldn't eat and the act of just sitting there playing would make me physically ill when I tried to stand up, so I would stay home from work the next day and play again.

It wasn't until I moved to Miami and literally COULDN'T play that I started realizing there was more to life than playing, and I eventually stopped playing altogether.

Now, you may be wondering why I always talking so fondly of XI even though I realize now that it was hurting not only me, but the people around me.

Well, to tell you the truth, those years were some of the best years of my life. I made a lot of friends, some of which I still talk to today. I genuinely had fun.

There's a video by HappyConsoleGamer that I think everyone that has played or still does play needs to watch. It's 21 minutes long, so set aside some time, but trust me, it's worth it.

This video hit me so hard because he went through exactly what I did, and it was really shocking to see that I wasn't the only one who was addicted that badly.

I don't mean to bash everyone over the head with reality with these last few posts. You came to this blog probably for poop jokes and fart noises.

That will be tomorrow's post.

But I thank everyone for hearing me out, and if you do feel yourself having an addiction to anything, please, please, talk to someone and get help before you hurt yourself or the ones you love.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some Warframe to play.

As The World Turns

I watch and I learn from the world around me. To the best of my ability.

I am in a FFXIV group on Facebook, and what do I see the most? Bitching. Whining. Complaining about everything. Endgame is this. This job does this but this doesn't do this. Content is this and this and that and that. Complain, complain, complain.

For several months, I have stopped playing FFXIV. Going cold turkey was nowhere near as difficult as when I had FFXI flowing through my veins.

No joke, when I had to go out of town for a weekend during 2006, I was shaking because I needed to play. Had to play that shit, man. It's what FFXI did to you back then. The game played you, man, the game played you!

Even now, I catch waves of nostalgia that make me want to play, although deep in my heart, I know the game will never have the same charm it once did.

I have stated before how brutal FFXI was. Crawl on a pile of broken glass then jump in the ocean for an hour and you'll know how it felt to form a party. Then after 30 minutes, tell everyone you have to go eat dinner.

Despite everything the game did to kick your ass, there was one thing that always picked you up and brushed the blood from your nipples: the community.

While the game itself has changed to the point of being almost single player, I believe at its core, the community will never change.

Lately I have been trying to contact people I used to know, and am getting baby steps closer to finding my long lost friends. But through this journey, I am finding people who remember me, although vaguely, and share with me bits of their fond memories. Yet these memories do not consist of an epic boss battle or a new piece of gear. It's all about everyone they've met along the way, and the friendships forged from the baptism of fire that is FFXI.

FFXIV does not have this type of community, I promise that. I have played the game since beta and have only made a number of friends I could count on the one hand that is not currently stuffed in my pants.

I know I've been beating a dead horse, but this horse needs to become ground meat before people realize just what magic FFXI's community had.

I'm holding onto what little faith I have that my quest to reunite with friends will come to fruition, but I will indeed post all my findings on this blog.

Let me take this moment to thank each and every one of you for being part of a community that created a legendary game that can never be replaced. You all are FFXI.

New Year, New(ish) Blog

Welcome to 2018. This blog will now be converted into a fidget spinner, because that is relevant, if repealing net neutrality hasn't killed us all by then. I literally cannot even, Becky.

Also, hello everyone! It has been a while, hasn't it? Sadly, my living situation is not entirely favorable towards an internet-necessary publication such as this. However, hopefully next month, that will all change and I will be able to post more content than ever! Like, maybe one post a month! Doesn't that sound smashing?

Nothing new to report. I am currently in a hotel out of town for work, and this place has a breakfast buffet, so that's a plus. Pawn Stars is on TV, so I have to listen to an hour of fat guys saying "Let me call in an expert" and then lowball an authentic civil war musket to about tree fitty.

No FFXI things to comment on. I have been fervently searching for a long lost relic of the past, but have not yet uncovered what I seek. That which I desire. My precious, if you will.

It's a web page. Just a web page, you silly losers.

During the more prosperous era of HellsLegion, my good friend Manaseph made a very simple webpage for the LS so people could do... I'm not sure what, exactly. Verify they were in a piece of shit community that didn't really do anything?

That's probably it.

There were tons of pictures people submitted of the early times and the fun we had before the Great Pussification™

I cannot for the life of me remember what service he used, and he can't either, so my search continues. I will keep everyone updated on my findings. Or not, maybe. Fuck you.

Anyways, Happy New Year to everyone, and I do hope you find something to get you through.