This is Just a Tribune VI

Alright, kids! After a brief hiatus, we return with an awesome edition of the Vana'diel Tribune!

*Applause sign flashes overhead*

What's in store for us this time?

Many adventurers have noticed changes around town. "What's happening now?" they wonder aloud. How are people responding to the festival, known as "Hina-Matsuri," that is currently being celebrated?  Articles Hina-Matsuri: Upscale Festival The Furniture Boom Packs for War and Healing  Columns Women of Vana'diel Joseaneaut's Mission

Festival, furniture, and failures of the Elvaan-kind. Let's dig right in!

Adventurers returning home for the first time in a long while are noticing a lot of changes. Many are cocking their heads and saying, "What's happening this time?" Pink-blossomed trees line the streets. Folding screens and three-colored rice cakes from the East are found everywhere. The Carpenters' Guild, the Culinarians' Guild, and the Rhinostery worked together to bring about this festival, known as "Hina-Matsuri," which originated in Eastern lands. But what is the meaning behind the "Hina-Matsuri"? Adventurers hear many things, so perhaps by piecing together their stories we can determine the true nature of the festival. We asked several well-informed adventurers what they knew. "I heard it's a festival to honor somebody important who did something good," said Kenpi (Lakshmi). "Isn't this a festival to pray for chocobos to grow big and strong?" said Kityo (Ragnarok). "It's the 'Doll Festival!' You set up dolls on a 'hinadan' and pray for the health of your daughters. If you forget to take down the doll stand before the end of the festival, your daughters will never marry. You have to be careful," said Gerugeru (Bismarck). "I heard that it's a festival for families with daughters. They decorate the house with mock-ups of the things their daughters will need when they get married," said Asaichi (Lakshmi). The information provided by these and many other adventurers allowed us to put together the following picture of the festival. "Hina-Matsuri" is a festival for protecting young girls from evil and praying for their health. Also known as the "Doll Festival," it takes place on the third day of the third month of the year. The festival decorations include miniature furniture and dolls of nobles in ceremonial dress, as well as sweet rice cakes and peach-colored flowers. This brings up another question. Is the "Hina-Matsuri" that we witnessed authentic? Unfortunately, it seems that there is a sizable difference between our festival and the original. Or perhaps it would be more proper to say that there is a "difference of size." The original festival uses dolls that you can hold in one hand. Due to a misunderstanding, the decorations for the "Hina-Matsuri" were constructed on a much larger scale, allowing actual people to take the place of the dolls. The festival was planned with the enjoyment of everyone in mind, and the spirit of the occasion seemed to reach adventurers despite the mix-up. "I sat in front of the folding screen with my closest friend. It was strange. A lot of old memories came bubbling up. I was aware of how much time had passed and was grateful for all his help," said Poppel (Garuda). "It was fun, I guess. When I returned to Bastok, I was greeted by a grand display of pink blossoms lining the streets. It was simply stunning. There was food, too. But the flowers were the best part," said Greywolfe (Caitsith). A flurry of pink flower petals dances in the breeze. That gentle image has probably made everyone's day a little brighter. Interviews: Finleen / Story: Zenngg

Upon asking people what the F this festival was about, the only person who came up with a concise answer was the dude from Bismarck. Everyone else was stupid and should feel bad.

It figures that my server would be the most educated and informed because I was among their ranks.

Yes, this festival was about dolls and rice cakes and pink stuff. It was all very girly and Japanese, but like I mentioned before, any festival is a fun change of pace.

One adventurer nods his head approvingly while singing the praises of his new furniture. "My Mog House was a cramped mess before, but all the new storage space has allowed me to really clean it up," he says. "Maybe I'm imagining things, but it seems like I'm losing fewer materials when I bungle a synthesis," says an experienced craftsman. "I've gotten better at desynthesis--not that there was much room to get worse," laughs another. Those who have noticed these small changes have two things in common. They all love furniture, and they noticed that their Moogles "have done something with the furniture collection." As rumors spread among adventurers, furniture sales suddenly began to skyrocket. But what has happened to our furniture? To find out, I spoke to Moogles from every country. Here's what they said: "I'm so happy that my master has bought me more furniture to look after, kupo!" gurgled a happy Moogle in San d'Oria. "I now understand the joys of furniture. And it's all thanks to Kupelcian, kupo!" enthused a Bastokan Moogle. "One of my neighbors explained how to draw out the amazing powers locked within the furniture, kupo! Kupelcian is a genius, kupo!" explained a Moogle living in Windurst. With so many Moogles speaking highly of Kupelcian, I decided to find out more about this individual. But the Moogle I asked seemed shocked at the question. "Kupo? You don't know who Kupelcian is? For a reporter, you don't read much news... Kupelcian works at Justi's Furniture in Northern San d'Oria. No, he's not Elvaan, he's a Moogle, kupo!" he said. I headed to Justi's Furniture to meet this esteemed contributor to the Moogles' knowledge of home furnishings. The Elvaan woman at the counter frowned at my request to interview Kupelcian. "Kupelcian is one of our craftsmen. He is working in the back at this very moment. I'm afraid that he is rather shy and more than a little bit--well, sensitive. He will not speak to someone he does not know. I myself have been working at this establishment for many years and he has only begun to acknowledge me. I am afraid that I cannot let him be disturbed," she said. Refused an interview with the Moogle in question, I asked about the rumors surrounding Kupelcian. "Our customers frequently enquire about that. Kupelcian loves furniture more than anyone else in the world. He seems to truly understand the essence of furniture. He does not speak frequently, however, so I cannot be sure," she said. I gave my thanks and bade her farewell. As I turned to leave, she suggested that "Kupelcian's childhood friend Kupatchanon would know more." I was informed that Kupatchanon is the only Moogle that Kupelcian has opened up to. I visited the Mog House where Kupatchanon works and asked the master of the house for permission to speak with him. "I'd like to talk about the recent furniture boom. Is it true that your long-time friend Kupelcian is behind this?" I asked. "Yes, it's true. Kupelcian started the whole thing. I went to speak with him when my master's plants kept dying. Kupelcian gave me some unusual advice, kupo," replied Kupatchanon. "He told me this: If you treat your furniture well, it will treat you well. Understand, kupo? See, furniture created by a dedicated craftsman has a soul, an elemental force. Talk to your furniture; listen to your furniture. It will lend you its power, kupo. Even the youngest Moogle can do this, kupo," explained Kupatchanon, as he carefully polished a large oak table. Following this advice, he began talking to his furniture as soon as he returned home. It was not long before he started feeling the soul of the furniture. A plant withering away in a flowerpot in the corner suddenly burst back to life with a stunning bloom of flowers. Kupatchanon also discovered another benefit. Talking to the different pieces of furniture revealed hidden storage space. Suddenly, there was room to spare in what had previously been a full Mog Safe. "Thanks to Kupelcian, my master's gardening troubles were over, kupo! And the Mog House is much neater, too. My master was very pleased. A Moogle's greatest resource is his friends, kupo!" he said. He shared this newfound knowledge with his neighbors and friends back home. The Moogle network carried it from there and spread the information throughout Vana'diel in just a few days. Even adventurers with no previous interest in furniture went scrambling to furniture stores and auction houses when they heard of the Moogles' little miracle. Carpenters also stepped up production so as not to be left behind in the rush to sell. This is the reason for the record jump in furniture sales at the auction houses. Still, I can't help but wonder what Kupelcian himself would think of the furniture boom. He probably still spends his days talking to his furniture, unaware of the frenzy he has caused. Nolvillant

Not sure if there actually was a 'furniture boom', which sounds awesome considering Bastok had a factory that produced gunpowder, but I do remember a time when I was super into decorating my mog house.

I never actually bought anything for it, maybe a stool or a basket for collecting the heads of my enemies. But 99% of everything in my house was event items or stuff I made myself. I had Christmas trees, a table full of Easter eggs, like... snowmen or some shit. 

And above it all was the proud banner of Bastok I got for completing my rank missions, waving like a flag of freedom. Brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?

Adventurers who fight in parties are often divided into frontline and non-melee roles based on their jobs. Naturally, adventurers with different roles in battle will have a wide variety of useful items in their packs. I decided to take a survey to further explore this variety. Of course, there are jobs that fall somewhere in the middle, but for this article, a job involving physical damage to enemies is classified as a frontline job while one involving magic is a non-melee job. Also note that these results are limited to the pool of subjects interviewed. Let's start with the foods that adventurers carry. Unsurprisingly, meat mithkabobs were the most popular choice for frontline fighters. The next most popular items were meat chiefkabobs and fish mithkabobs. Quite a few fighters reported that they regularly carry more than one type of food. This allows them to adapt their diet to the role they are playing in the party and the party's immediate needs. On the other hand, non-melee fighters tend to stick to just one food. The exceptions were those with advanced cooking skills, who tend to carry the ingredients necessary for their favorite juice. When they or their party need to quench the inevitable thirst that spellcasting brings, non-melee fighters with juice-making skills synthesize only what they need. "I fix up juice whenever there's a lull in the battle," said one white mage. "Spell-casting frontliners like paladins appreciate it when I share. Of course, I'm also improving my cooking skills at the same time. It's a lot of fun." Beastmasters, who call upon all sorts of creatures to fight for them, pack large amounts of the bait and broth that attract their allies. Food is but one type of item that helps in the heat of battle. The survey indicated that a surprising number of frontline fighters use ranged weapons to draw enemies to their parties. Because of this, many frontline fighters carry bullets, arrows, or thrown weapons in addition to their main weapon. While frontline fighters occasionally neglect to pack their ranged weapons or ammunition, the worst thing to forget is medicine. The silent oil and prism powder used to avoid being detected by enemies are the most common medicines found in the packs of high-level frontline fighters. Non-melee fighters tend to keep echo drops to cure silence, and remedies to cure just about everything As adventurers fight and acquire skills, they gain access to improved weapons and spells. Many adventurers carry items that they expect to start using soon. Frontline adventurers reported that they often carry weapons that they cannot currently use, but will be able to in the near future. They carry a new weapon for each type they have been training in. Non-melee fighters, on the other hand, do not limit themselves to new weapons. Rather, they give priority to scrolls containing the spells they will soon be able to cast. Regardless, the items and spells aimed at the most powerful adventurers have a use beyond combat. They serve as motivation to fight harder and gain more experience. But there was one response that was even more interesting. Many adventurers reported that their emergency backup plan is carrying a "scroll of Instant Warp." According to a thief I interviewed, "Instant Warp is absolutely essential for thieves. In the course of a day's work, I come across a lot of treasure chests. Opening chests in dangerous places or failing to pick a lock can result in a real sticky situation. It's nice to know that, no matter what happens, I have my scroll of Instant Warp to take me back someplace safe in a hurry." "I have to make sure to buy a replacement right after I use one, too," he hastened to add. Scrolls of Instant Warp hold an appeal for all frontline jobs. Magic users, of course, have their own spells to escape from danger, so they don't rely on Instant Warp nearly as often. There was one last surprising result from my survey. Adventurers need to carry a great number of things: food, weapons, scrolls, and medicine. I would never have guessed that you could fit so much in a pack, but adventurers manage to keep things organized. In fact, adventurers are constantly rearranging their packs to create extra space. They need to have room to carry home spoils of war that quickly become the seeds of tomorrow's battles. It seems that another necessity in an adventurer's pack is space. Adventurers each have their own idea about the proper balance between necessary equipment and space for new finds. The more I learn, the more I want to know about what people carry into battle. I hope to look at adventurers' packs from another angle sometime soon. Contributor : Palulu / Siren

This is an article I can a million% agree with. If there wasn't some kind of food in your bag while you were partying, you were stupid and should uninstall the game.

I always brought along mithkabobs for lower levels and sushi for higher levels. When I was a mage-God, I always had ingredients for making juices. I was one prepared sonofabitch.

It's pretty much common sense these days to bring status-enhancing food. But back in the day, it was rare to see someone this well-prepared. Food was expensive, and not everyone had the beard of a God that would attract money like a sexy magnet.

The Elvaan woman definitely said that refugees from Tavnazia had fled to a port town on the island of Elshimo, south of Mindartia. Assuming that the young Hume who visited the armor shop was really from Tavnazia, he might be my brother. It's possible that he escaped the carnage in Tavnazia and sought out his fellow refugees. But he didn't reach Windurst until ten years after the war. Where was he all that time? A howling wind rose up behind me. Countless flower petals danced through the air like butterflies, only to scatter like a flurry of snow in the next instant. The world seemed a dream of fluttering pink dots. But what of my father? If the young Hume was my brother, my father would have been with him...if they both survived. "Was he with someone?" I asked the woman, as I passed the scarlet cloak back to her. She shook her head. "There were probably other people-weople on the schooner that pulled into port that day, but he was the only one to pay a visitaru to the armor shop," she replied. So it was exactly like my dream... And suddenly I saw the continuation of the dream, a strange vision, as I walked along the pink carpet that covered the pier. I looked up to see a mirage of my father and brother shimmering through the swirl of flower petals. "A childhood friendy-wiend of mine is the captain of a cargo ship that sails outaru of Mhaura," she said, her voice drawing me back into the real world. "Maybe he would be willing to helpy-welp you. In factaru, I'm sure he would!" she continued--when she realized that I had slipped out of my dream-like state. I stared at the woman and let my newfound knowledge sink in. Her own eyes were locked on mine--I found myself unable to break from her earnest gaze. "His boat docks in Windurst several times a month on a vegetable-wegetable run. I can'taru remember when he'll be back here, though. Or, instead of waiting here, you could go to meety-weet him in Mhaura," she explained. This was all happening too fast; her enthusiasm was sweeping me away. I shut my eyes and forced myself to cool down and think. What if I arrived at Elshimo Island, only to find that this man was not my brother after all? I would once again be face to face with the abyss of despair. "I waited and waited for him for years and years," she said. I opened my eyes when I realized that she was starting to weep. "Every day, my heart was pounding and pounding harder and harder." She pulled her hat down to hide her eyes. It was almost as if she were screwing her head into the hat. "I waited and waited, but he never returny-wurned. It took me more than ten years to realize that he wasn'taru coming back. Everybody else knew," she sniffled. I silently looked up to the sky, watching the last golden rays of sun peek through an opening in the clouds. I sighed. "I'm leaving for Mhaura to see your captain friend. I think that both meeting you and having that dream were due to the hand of fate." "Oh!" she exclaimed, then undid the plain scarf around her neck. She wrote on it with a quill she had pulled from her shoulder bag. "Show this to the captain. I don'taru think he'll turn you away... Also, the boaty-woat is called the 'Kubira-Umbira,'" she explained. It looked like a letter of introduction. I was pleased that she was putting so much effort into this, but the ink blurring on the surface of the scarf made it look like the scribbles of a child. I couldn't stifle a laugh. "Thank you. Really," I said as she blushed full to the ears. I took the scarf as she led me to the chocobo stable, where she spoke with the Elvaan stable hand and rented the fastest chocobo for me. But she cried out as I climbed into the polished saddle and took the reins: "Waitaru!" "Here. Could you return this giftaru to him...for me..." She choked on her words as she offered me the scarlet cloak with both hands. Her only memento of that young man; she had kept it dear for so long... "Oh. Of course I'll take it to him. I promise. But I have something to ask of you." "Y-yes?" she stammered, as she stood on her tip-toes to look me in the eye. "Be happy. Be the most beautiful bride Windurst has ever seen," I said. She nodded her assent as tears streamed down her face.

Sad reacts only.

:(

3/29 "The enemies you were so kind to today will slay my men tomorrow. And yet you ask us to let them live, Temple Knightling..." Today I had another argument with Lord Mieuseloir over the treatment of prisoners of war. The Goddess Altana does not permit the wanton slaying of captives, be they beastman or person. The matter was resolved when I brought an order from the Papsque. Mieuseloir was far from pleased. The constant battles had left my company of knights weary and irritable. So what was the point of my visiting all of those beastman settlements? After Leada escaped, the church decided to pardon me and placed me as an inspector in a company of Royal Knights. Every day since has been spent with people and beastmen killing one another before my very eyes. Among the squads in my company, the Red Wolves, led by Mieuseloir, stand out for both their valor and the perverse delight they seem to take in slaughtering beastmen. In an environment such as this, people and beastmen seem no more than animals that are able to speak. Every day finds a new way to show me my powerlessness. Goddess, what meaning has this horrible war? 3/30 The forces of Altana carried the day today. A company of Bastokan Iron Musketeers was arrayed behind the defensive wall along the ridge in the western half of the Batallia Downs. While the blazing of firearms drew the attention of the main beastman contingent, the Royal Knights flanked them and launched a mounted attack from far to their rear. The opening of a second front knocked the beastman forces into disarray. They quickly collapsed, giving the allied army a rout. In an attempt to prevent further slaughter, I mounted a chocobo and raced after the Royal Knights, following them to the entrance of a tunnel that led to the Beaucedine Glacier. The corpses of slain beastmen lay scattered near the entrance to the tunnel--it was too late. I leapt off the chocobo and headed into the tunnel on foot. Dread welled up within me, keeping me alert. It was a nightmare! Instead of beastman bodies, allied soldiers were heaped one upon another. I could not bear to look at this horror. No sooner had I caught my breath than a war cry roared from deeper within the cave, shaking the walls. This was followed by an agonized scream--the battle was not over. I rushed ahead. Near the north exit of the tunnel, I could see a Gigas doing battle with a group of knights bearing the symbol of a red wolf. It was Lord Mieuseloir's Red Wolves. At first it looked as if they were randomly attacking the beast. But a closer look indicated that they were coordinating their actions very efficiently. The knights in front used their swords to draw the Gigas's attention, rather than to actually cut him. The archers in the back kept a steady stream of arrows piercing his thick skin. The Gigas paid no attention to the arrows and continued to swing his war axe at the adventurers, bashing their shields and sending them flying into the walls. The fighting Gigas was a paragon of courage. I have witnessed many a battle, yet this was the first from which I could not avert my gaze. I realized that the Gigas had a reason to sacrifice his life to protect this place. His valor told me what it was. But the seemingly immortal Gigas soon drew near his end. An arrow buried itself deep in the Gigas's left arm. The creature shuddered and Lord Mieuseloir took advantage of the moment, leaping into the air to bring his greatsword down between the Gigas's eyes. The knights let out a cheer as the creature crumpled to the ground, shaking the cavern. The next instant brought what I most feared. One of the knights let out a cry and charged their fallen adversary, raising his sword to strike, perhaps to avenge a fallen comrade. "Stop!" shouted Lord Mieuseloir, before I could even find my voice. He stopped the knight with a fist to the gut. "He stayed back to stall us while his friends retreated. I'll not allow such honor to be soiled," he pronounced clearly and without hesitation. "Let us go, then. There are surely other glories for us this day!" Lord Mieuseloir caught sight of me as he finished rallying his troops. He approached me, clapping me on the shoulder. "I know not his name, but he shook the allied forces as the right arm of Enkelados. We shall mourn him." Even I know the name Enkelados. He is one of the Uranos brothers, notorious even among the barbaric Gigas. Those who stand beside Enkelados are to be feared. I conducted a funeral for our fallen allies as the sunset painted the sky a glowing crimson. But the ceremony was not only for our allies. The funeral was attended by the Iron Musketeers and the Combat Casters as well as the Royal Knights. I offered up prayers for our fallen, along with prayers for the Gigas and the nameless others that were slain. None objected. As the moon passed by Aeomatra in the constellation Shiva, I broke bread with Lord Mieuseloir for the first time. We shared nothing more than simple conversation, but it served as a chance to relax. When we were finished eating, he looked up at the moon and muttered "Would that I could have such a noble death." He was speaking of the Gigas. I understood when I heard these words. What Lord Mieuseloir finds unforgivable is not that they are beastmen, but that they are his enemy. The saving grace over all of today's bloodshed is that he also sees the beastmen as people. When will this awful war end? Goddess! Open the Gates of Paradise to all souls!

The armor-clad Musketeer soldier whirled around, slamming both gauntleted fists down on the wooden long table with a deep metallic thump. His face red with fury, the soldier crumpled the report and threw it into the face of Joseaneaut, who flinched and squinted his eyes as the balled parchment struck him on the forehead and fell into his lap.

"Are you aware we are at war, Sir Joseaneaut?" The soldier asked him, peering into the Elvaan's half-closed eyes.

Joseaneaut nodded slightly, long hair falling across his face. "I am aware, but that does not mean our lives are any more important than that of the enemy. We are all children of-"

His statement was cut off as the soldier kicked a nearby chair, sending toppling over.

"I know the Church's teachings have clouded your mind," The soldier said, pacing several steps before turning. "But you must remember we are at war. The beastmen are the enemy, and should be treated as such, no matter how 'honorable' their actions may seem. Their simple-minded actions bear no semblance of tactic, only self-preservative instinct. The Gigas was merely protecting his own life. The other Gigas saw this and ran, fearing for their own. I have faced many Gigas around Jeuno, and know how they think. There is no logic, no future planning of any sort. They are animals. Animals that have learned to use weapons, which makes them even more dangerous. Do you understand?"

Joseaneaut swallowed hard and nodded again, brushing the hair out of his eyes with a gloved hand.

The soldier stood up and turned his back to the Elvaan, hands clasped together behind him. "You are dismissed. If I hear of you giving any more reports even suggesting these beastmen are capable of empathy towards their own, you will be punished, is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Joseaneaut said, standing up and strolling out of the chamber. The door opened and a Galka in blue and yellow armor stood aside as Joseaneaut exited, then proceeded inside, closing the iron door behind him.

"You can't keep this up forever," The Galka stated in a deep, barking voice. "You can't keep hiding the fact that these beastmen are smart. Word will eventually get out, no matter how many times you threaten the people tasked with writing the reports."

The soldier sighed heavily. "I realized this a long time ago."

The Galka slid out a chair and it creaked under his weight as he sat down. "So why do you keep it up?"

The soldier turned slowly, and the Galka reeled in horror as he saw the man's eyes were burning red, as if there was a fire kindling inside his skull. "Because people are fickle," The soldier said, drawing the sword strapped to his hip as he moved closer to the Galka, who fell back, fumbling at his own sword.

"If they have any idea what is going on, they would riot. There must be war. Endless war without question, and no one will stop it. I am sorry, my friend, but you have become a liability."

Joseaneaut stopped walking and cocked his head. He thought he heard screaming from behind him, but ignored the sound as the padded helmet muffled his hearing. He adjusted his chin strap and nodded. "Today, I'm going to be a hero." He spread his arms and ran out of the castle, making airplane noises.

I should probably turn that into a fanfiction.