Final Fantasy 14 - Tumblr Posts
https://archiveofourown.org/works/35598871
This isn't quite what you're describing but it's along the same lines, if you want to read it. It's really good!
Warrior of Light Raid
It occurs to me now that there are eight scions and they can fill a full raid team now.
Thancred and G'raha Tia - Tank
Y’shtola and Urianger - Healer
Alphinaud, Alisaie, Estinien, and Krile - Damage
Now you may be wonder why that's important.
See that's a full raid team without the Warrior of Light.
Now imagine if in the future there was a solo duty that pitted the WoL against them as a reverse raid. Whether it's for fun, whether it's due to them being corrupted or something or!
If something went wrong with a shard of use rejoining or some other thing and for a single duty WE were the bad guy. Can you imagine a WoL that's rouge. We'd be an final trial boss or even a Ultimate if we were.
I don't think they'd ever do it due to how complicated it'd probably be and it's risky, but wow that would be cool. The WoL's whole thing is being incorruptible to, so I doubt they'd ever do that.
It'd also show off why exactly were the Warrior of Light and the Scion's vanguard.
Not to mention if it went down the rouge route then you'd have some serious heartbreaking dialogue from the Scions trying to stop them.
Seriously imagine Alphinaud and Alisaie saying how much of an inspiration they are, Thancred how much he owes you for saving Ryne and himself on the regular, Urianger pledging that he would save you as you did him, Y'shtola on how much she respects you and worries for your safety, Estinien on how you are his equal and the greatest warrior he ever fought with, Krile on how much she owes you and looks up to you, and man- just imagine what G'raha would say. That could be its own post.
God it's never gonna happen but I need that.
the scions reporting for duty support
Zenos yae Galvus
I'm tired of this human duet
No civilizing hides
Our animal impulses
Some sketches with my crybaby WoL, which I've made last year.
He's from keepers of the moon tribe, and the figure of his babushka (grandmother) is very important to him since childhood. She spent a lot of time with him, played and taught herbalism. Thanks to her, he began to study arcane and magic art.
↳ ʜᴀᴜʀᴄʜᴇꜰᴀɴᴛ ɢʀᴇʏꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ ✦ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴛᴇᴍᴘꜱ ✦ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴜʟʟᴇʀ
— ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ ꜰᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ʀᴏᴀᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴꜱɪᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴍᴇ.
you should go ahead and play it
HAVE YOU HEARD OF THE AWARD WINNING MMORPG FINAL FANTASY XIV, NOW WITH AN EXPANDED FREE TRIAL UP TO LEVEL 70 THAT INCLUDES HIGHLY CONTROVERSIAL EXPANSION STORMBLOOD WITH NO LIMITS ON PLAY TIME, NOW AVAILABLE ON XBOX?
I'm still pretty new to final fantasy 14 is this funny?
Got my first ever tattoo, it was a wonderful experience and I’m so happy with the result >:3
Cold
It was one of the few things Brynhorn Fiske hated, but found himself in more often than not. Laying belly down in snow would do that to you, and of course, he was doing just that, sighting down the sights of his rifle as he breathed slowly, evenly, watching as far below him on the mountain, Garlean soldiers passed through a small mountain pass. He tracked the first soldier, his head appearing in his sights, a tiny little black dot, as his finger slowly shifted from the trigger guard, resting against the trigger, taking a slow breath, letting it out even slower...
"Boo!"
Bryn felt his eyes narrow, slowly turning his head to stare at the ashen haired joker as the Hyur assassin snickered next to him, the sniper slowly removing his finger from the trigger. "You are lucky I have good trigger discipline," the soldier growled out, his voice deep and rich for his age, the thirty four year old Sergeant pushing up onto his elbows and disrupting a few small pebbles of soft snow.
"We would have been fine," Thancred chuckled out, "the sound wouldn't have reached them from here."
Bryn shifted his gun, rising to his knees as he shouldered the pine wood rifle and sighed, the younger man still very much a silver tongued tease. "You're right, but they would have noticed their Lieutenant dropping dead at the head of the line."
Thancred actually looked mildly concerned at that statement, looking down towards the mountain pass, and then back at the all white clad soldier, before nervously saying, "You couldn't hit that...right?" Bryn just gave him a stare, his silver eyes gleaming as he repositioned the hat on his head, the snow dusted linen hiding his short cropped black hair as he turned and began to trudge through the snow towards the next lookout, Thancred following along behind him and calling out, "Right!?"
︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Bryn was back in the snow, belly down, the angle of the slope steep enough to give him a natural angle down towards the pass, nearly fully covered by snow now that they were closer, his rifle sticking out from it and angled down towards the next section of the pass. Nearby, Thancred tossed a knife up into the air, catching it blade first, and repeating, the Sergeant mildly annoyed at him. He would have told him to stop, if the sun was out, but the day was blissfully cloudy. Correction, it was bitterly cloudy. It made the snow an extra few degrees cooler, and that just added to the soldier's mounting annoyance. He wasn't used to all of this sneaking around, waiting, and watching, more a man of action with his militant background, but after joining the cloak and dagger operation out of Limsa Lominsa, he had adapted, quickly. It wasn't his preferred method of engagement, but he could be deadly at the long ranges the organization wanted him to observe from.
He let out a slow breath, watching the pass, the slow progression of the Garlean soldiers, not even bothering with the sights this time as his finger rested on the trigger guard. The snow had fallen thick the evening before, and it was showing, the foot soldiers slogging through the soft powder as their black armor stuck out like beetles on paper, the sniper thanking the guild for providing him with a white coat, white shirt, and white pants, even a pair of leather boots with white fur sewn over the brown material. It kept him camouflaged, even better than Thancred's white and black coat.
"What's your camouflage again?" The question was mumbled, the Sergeant's cheek pressed to the butt of his rifle as he glanced at the younger, but senior in the guild, rogue. It actually got the spy to stop tossing his knife, look at Bryn, and then raise his arms as if it was self explanatory.
"A rock!"
"Rock's don't move."
"You are zero fun."
"I thought this wasn't supposed to be fun."
Thancred narrowed his gaze, and then let out a grumbling curse. "I preferred my last detail. No one to babysit, and plenty of beautiful women to court~" Bryn actually groaned, and Thancred laughed at the sound, returning to tossing his knife as the soldier shifted slightly, looking back down his rifle at--
"Hey. Where's the patrol?"
Thancred stopped tossing the knife, looking down towards the mountain pass, as Bryn rose to one knee, sighting down his rifle and slowly scanning, the rogue crouching down as he too looked for any trace. "How the...there is nowhere else to go but...wait..."
He tapped Bryn's shoulder, pointing, and the older soldier shifted his sight line to where he was directed, closing one eye as he took in what his eagle eyed leader had.
"A door? Metal... Huh, magitek I think. See a keypad."
"You can see that?"
Bryn just nodded, continuing on with his explanation as he looked slightly to the left. "Single guard, blends in well with the rocks and door. Still stupid to wear black in snow."
"When do they not wear all black?" Thancred drawled out, sitting back in the snow. "Well, we have the location of the secret Castrum! I think we've seen enough."
Bryn had to agree, rising to his feet and stamping them slightly, getting the blood flowing as he shifted his gun onto his shoulder, lifting his gloved hands and blowing on them before answering. "Plenty. Let's head back and--"
The crack of the rifle rang out, and Bryn staggered back, slamming back into the snow as pain blossomed in his side, laying on his back, nearly starting to slide down the steep mountain peak, he saw for the first time the Garlean scout who had just shot him, the still smoking blade-gun pointed right at him, and the pristine white armor enough to make the soldier eat his earlier words. Already, the scout was aiming at Thancred, the rogue leaping forward, ready to close the distance as Bryn reacted on instinct.
The crack-BOOM of his rifle, brought to bear against his shoulder, sent a ball of aether spinning towards the scout, stabilized with spin and cutting through the cool air. The poor sap didn't stand a chance, Bryn's older, less advanced rifle far more accurate thanks to familiarity and old, lost technology, the concentrated ball of death slamming through the visor of the scout and snuffing out his life in an instant.
Bryn lowered his rifle slowly, already panting as pain began to truly radiate from his wound, blood seeping into the snow under him and staining his coat a rich, vibrant red. The crumpled Garlean began to slide down the mountain, his armor dragging him along, as below an alarm sounded and soldiers began to pour from the door. The rogue was at Bryn's side in a moment, handing him a fistful of bandages that the sniper pressed to his wound, hissing in pain before making a move to get to his feet.
"You can't--"
"I can and I will." Bryn cut him off, not needing to hear that the wound was bad, or that it would slow them down. Instead, he just pressed his rifle into Thancred's hands and then pulled himself up, swaying slightly as blood slowly dripped from between his fingers and around already stained bandages. "Go. Get them the location. I'll follow."
"You're kidding!" Thancred was incredulous, his brown eyes shining with disbelief, and his mouth working open and closed, a few sounds like words leaving his lips, but he didn't get the chance to say them.
"No. Go. You're the leader, you know the mission takes precedence."
"And you're my charge!" Stubborn. Someone had mentioned that about Thancred, Bryn didn't care to remember who. He just gave the well built man a shove and growled out angrily.
"And I'm saying go! I've survived worse, now let me do what I'm trained to do, and go!" Thancred hesitated, then tried to hand back the rifle he still clutched, Bryn waving him off with a quick, "I'll be better without it," only then turning and starting to make a rapid, half sliding half running descent down the mountain, angling away from the Garlean forces trying to pick their way up it. Bryn watched him go, making sure he didn't turn back, before he too turned and headed along the mountain ridge, but going up and away from the approaching forces.
He knew he had a long few days ahead of him as every step barked with pain in his side.
︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Three days later, when Bryn walked over the threshold of the guild in Old Sharlayan, the whispers began. Thancred had returned only the day before, begging that a search party be mounted, but finding no one willing to search for a body. Not a single one of the unsavory bunch expected him to crawl through the door, but to walk through it? Tattered white clothes stained red with blood? He shocked them all.
For a long week, some swore they had seen claw marks in his clothes. Others said they saw a healed bullet wound on his left side. Others whispered his eyes glowed unnaturally. But no matter what was said, his name was whispered nearly reverently, and an old moniker made a resurgence from his military days.
"Silver Wolf."
He never told anyone what happened up on that mountain. Not even Thancred. All he would say was that he hid, and waited until the danger passed.
And that he hated the cold.
He let out a little sigh of relief at her apparent disinterest at getting slightly bloodied, even if it was after a slightly long pause. He did, for a moment, wonder if he was about to receive the business end of her staff when she reached out for it, especially with her other hand on the knife at her waist, but her words, the shrug, and her relaxed posture convinced him otherwise. His easy, happy smile returned to his face as he gave her a soft nod and winked.
"Happy to have helped! Given your confidence though, perhaps I should have left them to you?" His tail flicked at his jest, his eyes thought anything but still, slowly taking her in again as she had just moments ago. Fur. Across her cheeks and neck. Light and barely noticeable, but there. It wasn't totally unheard of among the more tribal Miqo'te, and he supposed he shouldn't be so surprised or intrigued by it, but he was, at least more respectfully this time, keeping his gaze short and respectful as he listened to her voice, taking it in and memorizing it. It wasn't an odd thing for him, so focused on sound in his line of work, he would more often than not recognize someone by their voice before even seeing them. In this case, he noted the slight hesitance, the almost stiff tone, as if rehearsed or thought out, and simply watched her as she brushed off her clothes.
"I'm glad to hear you are unharmed, I was afraid when I heard the challenge I would find an unfortunate sight of another victim." Unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up as she mentioned the dangers of brambles, he could only shake his head as he chuckled. "Careful, I hear those brambles can be deadly, sneaking up and taking out your fingers before you even have a chance!"
Still chuckling, he gave her another look, and realized as he met her eyes that she too carried the telltale signs of a Moon Keeper, his surprise flickering over his face for a moment, before he gave her a curious look. He hummed thoughtfully to himself and remarked off hand. "You're a ways out here, without a guard or help. I'm guessing you're familiar with a blade as familiar as you are with a plant, yet I haven't seen you around before."
For a moment, he opened his mouth, about to ask her who she was, and then laughed, realizing he had not even introduced himself yet after leaping in and disturbing her day. His flipped his bow back onto his back, resting with his quiver, before placing a hand on his chest, over his heart, palm flat, and bowed at the waist with practiced ease. "I am Kaleh'a Quickdraw, an archer currently employed by the Twin Adders to hunt down the beast I just felled. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance!"
In less than a minute, the encounter was over.
The excitement that swelled in her chest had quickly deflated once the rest of the beast's flock had run off. Her preparations for a fight were quickly tossed to the side, and what she would have considered good fun was bleeding into the earth at her feet. Her frustration was clear, but more so at the fact that she was upset that she hadn't heard the hunter bounding over behind her. It was clear that she had let some of her skills learned at the castrum atrophy since her change of career. Violence always seemed to bring that sickening animalistic instinct back to the surface. The thrill of battle was a note only ever plucked by necessity, but stuffing the need back down under the other aspects of her being was difficult.
The short coat of fur on her skin prickled as she calmed herself. While the adrenaline rush she was expecting had still flooded her system, she had to keep her wits about her now that she had company. It was a shame that her privacy had come to a close, but she wouldn't forget her lessons. After all, she still needed the practice being sociable, and what better a subject to work with than a fellow Miqo'te? She heard stories about the reputation the Moon Keepers had made of themselves in the Twelveswood, but truly meeting one in broad daylight was a real treat.
She observed him carefully, ignoring the dead beast at her feet and took a step to turn towards him. She noted the way he stared. As if she hadn't been self-conscious about it already. She knew she looked different, and most who met her stared in the same way he did. It's why she preferred her privacy. Cyra's eyes examined every visible ilm of him. Traveling from the clearly worn armor, to the smooth wood of his bow, the moon-kissed tips that poked out from under his hat, and the sudden shyness and shame that overcame his expression when he noticed her staring back at him.
Cyra let out a slow sigh through her nostrils, ears flicking lightly as she sorted through everything she had learned from Bryn about social graces. Better to think and be sure of your words than to speak what first comes to mind. Finally dropping her stare from his, she relaxed her posture, her palm resting on the butt of her knife at her hip, and her other hand reaching for the staff stuck into the dirt. At the mention of her sullied foot-wraps, she finally took the moment to glance down.
"It's of no consequence." She shrugged. "My thanks for saving me the trouble of having to kill it." The healer looked back at the slain beast, letting the remainder of her anticipated bloodlust drain out of her with its blood into the earth. It wouldn't do to be upset for someone doing the dirty work for her, and she reminded herself that his quick action saved her the possibility of having yet more gore-stains to scrub out of her clothes. She began dusting off the dirt and detritus that clung to her clothes after the blue-back fell forward to its fate.
"I am unharmed, save for some minor lost battles with brambles." She tried to lighten the mood, distract the hunter from his shame and hopefully keeping it casual enough to keep him from asking too many questions.
Someone caught G'raha at it again
pentiment
final fantasy 14 hrothgar cock and balls
like if you agree
