Entry undated
It has been a long while since I had opened up the leather cover of this journal. A great deal has happened since my last entry. Too much to account for here. I had met people, been to new places both dreamy and dire, made contacts and lost contacts, even managed to begin a walk to great personal power.
In all that, however, I was still aimless and wandering. No matter the causes I lent my arm to--and they were worthy of my time and efforts--they still felt short of that which I needed. The direction and purpose I have sought across the whole known area of Eorzea.
So, then, my wandering has led me to the doorstep of an unassuming small plot in the Goblet, the ward of the fabled Red Wings. I had heard tell of these fighters, though naught much more than assumption. I know they operate within the authority of the Immortal Flames, of whom I have little love for. However, if they are the avenue to the purpose I seek, I will release my conscription to even my beloved Maelstrom to see me become more than a sellsword.
Those whom I have met are warm and welcoming enough, with Miss Cliodhna and Ser Koporo being personal standouts. My direct superior Lieutenant Aire seems to find me engaging enough to not be annoyed, and she carries my sense of humor besides. It still is odd that I report to a superior, though. I have been by myself for so long that it will take some adjustment to become part of a rank and file.
It is not too dramatic for me to say that this is my last real chance at this adventuring life. Should this not fulfill what it is I seek, then I will renounce myself to my armorsmithing trade.
I pray to any ears above that I will not have to come to that. I have experienced too much to merely just....settle.
It has been a long while since I had opened up the leather cover of this journal. A great deal has happened since my last entry. Too much to account for here. I had met people, been to new places both dreamy and dire, made contacts and lost contacts, even managed to begin a walk to great personal power.
In all that, however, I was still aimless and wandering. No matter the causes I lent my arm to--and they were worthy of my time and efforts--they still felt short of that which I needed. The direction and purpose I have sought across the whole known area of Eorzea.
So, then, my wandering has led me to the doorstep of an unassuming small plot in the Goblet, the ward of the fabled Red Wings. I had heard tell of these fighters, though naught much more than assumption. I know they operate within the authority of the Immortal Flames, of whom I have little love for. However, if they are the avenue to the purpose I seek, I will release my conscription to even my beloved Maelstrom to see me become more than a sellsword.
Those whom I have met are warm and welcoming enough, with Miss Cliodhna and Ser Koporo being personal standouts. My direct superior Lieutenant Aire seems to find me engaging enough to not be annoyed, and she carries my sense of humor besides. It still is odd that I report to a superior, though. I have been by myself for so long that it will take some adjustment to become part of a rank and file.
It is not too dramatic for me to say that this is my last real chance at this adventuring life. Should this not fulfill what it is I seek, then I will renounce myself to my armorsmithing trade.
I pray to any ears above that I will not have to come to that. I have experienced too much to merely just....settle.
