Osiria: The Span of the Empire

It had been a month now since her return. A month since the wagon had brought her back to the nation she had left behind so abruptly several years before.

However, Osiria now found herself suffocated by the sweltering heat, as well as the constant stream of refugees and consumerism prevalent in Ul'dah.

"This city is hotter than Ifrit's asshole," she cursed.

Sand adhered itself to her sweat dampened fur faster than she could shake it off. However, she still believed her decision to re-commit herself to adventuring in Ul'dah had been the right one. Under the tutelage of Master Harmon, she had acquired the necessary skills to become a pugilist of moderate talent and means.

Osiria had relentlessly fought her way across the dunes, but now the cool ocean air called to her and she considered shucking Ul'dah for the rolling tide of Limsa Lominsa. She left a few necessities with Bash for safekeeping, donned her best knuckles and allowed herself to disappear into the aether.

All Saints' Wake.

Osiria: Return to Eorzea.

Osiria rubbed the grit and sand from her weary eyes. "How much longer?" she wondered to herself, cursing the blinding desert sun. Leave it to the Ul'dahns to ferry people about in sweltering caravans. "As if some of us aren't covered in fur," Osiria mentally added.

Had it really been three years since she last set her eyes on the iron gates of Ul'dah? The same rhetorical question kept bubbling up into her consciousness, along with a compilation of emotions, primarily composed of nervousness.

Osiria had deserted both her adventurer status as an archer in Gridania and, eventually, forsaken Gridania herself. She inwardly rolled her eyes at the idea of "finding oneself", but unfortunately there was no other way to describe the leave of absence she had taken.

Due to said absence and the subsequent rearrangement of her priorities, Osiria's rank in the Archer's Guild was gone, her friends spread between the three nations only gods knew where, and yet her drive to serve Eorzea remained as great as always. She had returned as soon as she'd heard of Eorzea's plight, how could she not? However, this time Osiria staked her claim in the city of Ul'dah, land of the silver tongued merchants, whose gates she strove to meet that on very day.

Things were different now, Osiria knew. The roads were more dangerous, the people more corrupt and the adventurers more plentiful. In her own mind, Osiria owed a great debt to Ul'dah, for it was there she discovered much about her own inner strength, the special spark that had led her back to Eorzea. She also knew the Pugilist's Guild would be her first stop inside the city.

Osiria nodded silently, as if to agree with her own conviction.

"Woah there!" the driver called. "We've arrived in Ul'dah! Get your gear, and get out! I've got another run to make today."

Osiria required very little additional prompting and, armed with nothing but the clothes on her back, she jumped out of the caravan and into the bleak desert heat. The white sand seemed to cook her the soles of her feet straight through her thin boots as though they were leather skillets.

"First things first," she noted. "A stop at the Adventurer's Guild."

Osiria: Battle Blood.

Hippocerfs surrounded Osiria and the other adventurers. Great claws stirred up the desert dust as they encroached, circling her like prey, jaws snapping hungrily. She felt her blood surge with the thrill of battle as her breath quickened to meet each hasty step. Others around her cast spells of protection, and soon Osiria too was engulfed in the blue aura of safety. Although she was not raised a mage as those who fought beside her, with a quick bow she revealed her appreciation.

Once the battlewarden indicated their enemy, Osiria let her arrows fly. One after another, she barraged the great monsters with her ranged attack; then chased obediently after the battlewarden to discern their next target. Hippocerfs always attacked in packs of ten to twenty and they spent the better part of an afternoon following their slobber filled tracks.

The ragged band returned to Camp Horizon, all Hippocerfs defeated, as the great sun sank below the dunes. Covered in sweat, dirt and blood, Osiria slumped against a market stall. She cringed when yet another wave of sand whipped through her hair.

Osiria realized her chapped lips longed for the rejuvenating groves of Gridania. She missed the smell of lingering sawdust leftover from workdays at the Carpenter’s Guild and the moist scent of incense wafting across the ponds from the elusive Conjurer’s Guild. Most of all she missed Miounne’s stories and her own sense of belonging in that strange forest town.

And so, she set about commencing her return.

Waiting...

Since SE announced that after the Japan earthquake servers would be suspended, I have been waiting for them to come back online. I worry about my Figaro mates located in Japan. I miss talking to everyone online.

Last night, they announced service will be suspended until at least March 22nd.

So, until then... I will be waiting. Best wishes Japan.

FFXIV 1.16 Patch

FFXIV on Twitter:
abby_cake: Playing FFXIV right now is reminiscent of Big Land in Super Mario. I dislike the gigantic squirrels.
sramdi: @abby_cake You just scored a major +1 for the Big Land reference. xD

And I stand by my statement. What the hell is up with these gigantic marmots? It's like I am playing in 800x600. Take it back SE, or at least let us ride them...

Osiria: An Adventurer's Calling

Osiria had woken up that morning to the unpleasant grit of sand in her teeth. She spat and stretched, then hoofed it to the nearest stream. Her bag contained lavender soap and a mix of coral and mint, intended to clean the desert from her mouth.

The stream was about 300 yalms to the North, and upon arrival she realized she was not the only one with the idea for a morning dip. Several lady Lalafells had already ventured down from Camp Horizon; they were in their underthings splashing playfully in the shallow water. One sat on a rock, dangling her toes just above the waterline and mending several pairs of socks.

Osiria set her armor to one side and slowly lowered herself into the cool stream. It felt delicious against her skin, as though she hadn’t been truly energized for days. Once her head was submerged, she blew happy bubbles toward the rising sun.

It was strange to be around adventurers again after so many days on her own. Almost as strange as it was to be clean.

Her clothes were stiff and sun dried, but she donned them all the same and started back to camp.

The Battlewarden’s cry rang out across the flat landscape, echoing off plateaus: “Join up and explore the surrounding land! Fight the monsters threatening Ul’dah’s safety!”

Before she could give credible consideration to the suggestion, Osiria realized her feet were carrying her toward battle…