Tabrett

Oh, page 7. You will live in infamy. And some of our nightmares.

Aww. I didn't make the list? Sadness.

@Molt - So far, I haven't encountered any real difficulty using it on my phone (if that's the route you're going). It's easier on my laptop, but it still functions just like any other text chat program. Pretty much.

I think I'm on an art high right now. Everyone is so impressive! Kerr is definitely on the waiting list for you, Liddel! Just let me know when you have some free time/inspiration!

There is going to be a ton of manqo'tes, I imagine. You'd be welcome within the fold. :cat: I think there are... five or so lurking around the forums already. You have plenty of time to decide, though! Go with what you want!

Welcome back!

Hi! It's good to have you~

A short bit on Kerr's thoughts/feelings after the final trailer for 1.0. "We all knew it would happen. Dalamud would fall. It was inevitable. Yet, we could not be prepared for what happened. The sheer destruction of it... The villagers had fled to Gridania by then, seeking the protection of a larger city as the Garleans struck at our throats. But no walls would save them from what Dalamud unleashed. The skies burned that day. I will never forget the sound of Eorzea screaming. So many were taken from us. Not just our soldiers, but our elders, our wives, and most mournfully... our children. I held some of them as they died, drug the charred bodies of others in from the streets. Blood and ash ran through Gridania like a river that day. For me, sometimes the smell still lingers. However, I know the Garleans made a grave mistake. They could not finish us, not all of us. We clung together and limped on -- toward a day when we could seek vengeance for what was done to us. We survived. And we will not forget." -- Kerr

Omgawd. It's so pretty!! I'll definitely want one for Kerr eventually. Please keep me in mind for later. I can't wait to see more! I'm so jealous of you artists. I have no talent there. ;_; ::runs off to devour wiki::

That cutscene was amazing! I had imagined Dalamud to be a prison or shell or some sort, but I was not really expecting that. At all. Brilliant.

Those are very small underpants, sir. As someone else on the forums said: "Take all my thumbs up!!".

It will have them. Yes, FFXIV will have the gays~ ::plotting:: Edit: Wow I was tired. I'll leave it for silliness purposes though. I'm really looking forward to getting to play with you too, Gerik. I have a feeling our characters shall inflict a flirtascious hell on all. Lovingly, of course.

Amazing art, Kei!! I'd love to see more!

::wolf whistle:: I think all archery should now be done this way. Very nicely done, Gerik.

((This was previously posted in the Dalamud Cometh thread and takes place just before the fall.)) The wooden planks that made up the floor were old and worn by the travelers that passed through seeking shelter for a time. Kerr thought that with all the refugees it must have nearly been worn through. He imagined he could feel each ridge of the grain where the sand from their shoes had ground grooves deep into the wood. It was a modest-sized building, being some years of age. It always smelled of many bodies and the candles used to mask the sweet stench of sweat. There was a constant low murmur of voices of those that came to seek solace in the presence of others; those that came for shelter from the growing red doom. Comfort was not what he sought, kneeling dutifully on the floor before a Miqo'te woman of some age who sat amidst a pile of her possessions that looked to have been hastily collected. Perhaps it was all she owned in the world now. There was white to her ears and sprinkled throughout her tail, but her eyes were everkeen. She held the letter than he had brought so tightly that the paper creased. He could see it tremble between her hands before he dropped his head forward, fixing his eyes on the worn grain. The minutes ticked by like hours â every breath a slow drag of agony as he waited in anticipation. Finally, her words came and the relief was almost enough to make him sick. "She is dead then, my daughter..." It was not a question. It need not be when it was all laid bare in explanation in the missive. His hands clenched so tightly upon his knees that the leather issued a quiet protest. For some time, that was the only sound that passed between them. He felt dizzy from the press of the silence; the weight of her stare. But he bore it without complaint. He would offer no paltry excuse, no plea for himself. He was guilty of it, this crime. The blood of this motherâs child stained his hands and he would hear her words. He would feel the sharp sting of her wrath, should she give it. It mattered not that the girl had begged for the release that death would bring. To deliver this letter had been her final request of him. He would honor at least that much for the woman heâd had hand in torturing. "And the children?" "I know not," he mustered himself to answer. He truly didn't. He was not even sure the number of them, though he knew two to be his. Taken shortly after birth, he'd not ever seen them. The woman sat back in her chair with a rustle of clothing and a sigh weighted with the choices she now had to make. "So young... to bare such a burden. How old are you, child? Are you even sixteen summers?" "Eighteen," he responded with quiet surprise, glancing briefly up toward her face. What did she mean by these questions? Her stern expression made him uneasy and he returned his eyes to the floor. "Just..." he amended. She sat forward on the edge of her chair, reaching out to him as quickly as a striking snake to roughly catch his chin and force his head up. Her eyes were the same soft brown as her daughter's, but they were filled with pain and ferocity that he had not seen in Mirage until the end. The fire in her calmed him. He knew what to expect now. When a woman looked at him like that, he knew well the nature of what they asked. "She begs me for your life, boy. Begs for my mercy, which I am not yet sure I am inclined to give. You owe much for the life you have lived -- and those you have taken. Is that the legacy you wish to leave to your name? Will the people left in your wake remember only suffering?" the matron growled, digging her sharp nails in against his cheek and giving him a quick shake. "I have spared your life. As such, I lay claim to it. I will see that debt repaid. Remain and serve those other than just yourself -- or face your death this day." Seeing the cold light in her eyes, Kerr did not doubt she would strike him down in an instant if he refused her. Yet, there was nothing in his old life that he could return to now. The brief life and the death of that one girl had changed how he viewed everything. His answer was simple and grave. "I will serve."

Now that Kerr's wiki is up, I'm going to be posting some of my original fiction for him here on the forums. I'll just update this thread when there is something new. If you have any comments, please PM me with them as I'd like to keep this thread as clean as possible. That's just my OCD showing its head there. No offense. To start off, here is the blurb that was posted with his Wiki: "My story begins like so many others -- with a woman. My mother, specifically, who died when I was still a young boy. I honestly don't remember much about her, but Behr would sometimes tell me stories when the drink had softened the blow of his memories. Knowing now what I do of her life, I can certainly understand why. The clearest recollection of my mother that I have is from the day she died. I had never known a woman's hands were normally soft, supple things. Hers had always been rough. Too many of her years had been spent barely surviving for her to have the hands of a lady. Then again, she hadn't had the mouth of one either. But she had been beautiful. Her eyes had glowed like steel in the forge light. I have long since forgotten the color. "I'm not coming back this time," she had told me solemnly as she pulled on her bracers. Fear had struck me as quick as a blow, but a sharp flick of her tail and a hard look forestalled any childish wailing that might have come from me then. "Listen to me, Kerr. There will be time for that later, but you must listen to me now." She told me the truth then of this vagabond life we lead. She told me the things I would have to do to stay alive. My life would follow the path that hers had taken long ago, and she apologized to me for that. I know that she must have loved me fiercely, just like any other mother. That she tried to protect me in the only ways that she could, teaching me to become a survivor like she had been. To be strong like the strength I saw in her that day as she went willingly to her own death. "We choose our own paths in this life, Kerr. There will come a time when you have to choose what kind of man you will become. I pray to the Twelve that you will not make the same mistakes that I did. "The light of your father shines within you," she told me, her voice soft with affection as she looked into my face. I had been shaking so hard that I thought I might come apart, but she only smiled. She touched my face, kissed my brow. "He was a good man. You can be too." My mother was the first woman to touch my life... but she certainly wouldn't be the last."

Yay! That's wonderful news! I'm hoping to post the wiki sometime today. He's pretty much a set character. I just have to get all the info down and out to you guys (and girls).

It's looking great! I love all the updates. Question though. Can we reserve a spot if we didn't have a 1.0 character or is it for people who've already been in game?

Wow! Tadir! I remember you from back when the RPC first started before FFXIV even launched. I had wondered if you still played. Awesome to see you back.

I saw the picture on the wiki. Uriah is such a cutie! Welcome at last~ I'm sure everyone will love having you here with us!

Thank you, Aysun! That's very helpful.

This looks great! I'm excited about some of the new features. For our veteran players: how much change has been made to this? Other than the overhaul for the UI, can you notice anything different? Bust and body sliders aside. What do you guys and girls think?

Can anyone suggest some of the better places to find lore? Some things are easy to search if you know what to look for, but does anyone know someplace I can find more of a complete history/lore? I think it would be very helpful as a new player. Thanks guys (and ladies!).

((His race is subject to change, but the story will hold true. It may be a bit premature, but I wanted to get involved so badly that I couldn't help myself.)) The wooden planks that made up the floor were old and worn by the travelers that passed through seeking shelter for a time. Kerr thought that with all the refugees it must have nearly been worn through. He imagined he could feel each ridge of the grain where the sand from their shoes had ground grooves deep into the wood. It was a modest-sized building, being some years of age. It always smelled of many bodies and the candles used to mask the sweet stench of sweat. There was a constant low murmur of voices of those that came to seek solace in the presence of others; those that came for shelter from the growing red doom. Comfort was not what he sought, kneeling dutifully on the floor before a Miqoâte woman of some age who sat amidst a pile of her possessions that looked to have been hastily collected. Perhaps it was all she owned in the world now. There was white to her ears and sprinkled throughout her tail, but her eyes were everkeen. She held the letter than he had brought so tightly that the paper creased. He could see it tremble between her hands before he dropped his head forward, fixing his eyes on the worn grain. The minutes ticked by like hours â every breath a slow drag of agony as he waited in anticipation. Finally, her words came and the relief was almost enough to make him sick. âShe is dead then, my daughterâ¦â It was not a question. It need not be when it was all laid bare in explanation in the missive. His hands clenched so tightly upon his knees that the leather issued a quiet protest. For some time, that was the only sound that passed between them. He felt dizzy from the press of the silence; the weight of her stare. But he bore it without complaint. He would offer no paltry excuse, no plea for himself. He was guilty of it, this crime. The blood of this motherâs child stained his hands and he would hear her words. He would feel the sharp sting of her wrath, should she give it. It mattered not that the girl had begged for the release that death would bring. To deliver this letter had been her final request of him. He would honor at least that much for the woman heâd had hand in torturing. âAnd the children?â âI know not,â he mustered himself to answer. He truly didnât. He was not even sure the number of them, though he knew two to be his. Taken shortly after birth, heâd not ever seen them. The woman sat back in her chair with a rustle of clothing and a sigh weighted with the choices she now had to make. âSo young⦠to bare such a burden. How old are you, child? Are you even sixteen summers?â âEighteen,â he responded with quiet surprise, glancing briefly up toward her face. What did she mean by these questions? Her stern expression made him uneasy and he returned his eyes to the floor. âJustâ¦â he amended. She sat forward on the edge of her chair, reaching out to him as quickly as a striking snake to catch him by the chin and force his head up. Her eyes were the same soft brown as her daughterâs, but they were filled with pain and ferocity that he had not seen in Mirage until the end. The fire in her calmed him. He knew what to expect now. When a woman looked at him like that, he knew well the nature of what they asked. âShe begs me for your life, boy. Begs for my mercy, which I am not yet sure I am inclined to give. You owe much for the life you have lived â and those you have taken. Is that the legacy you wish to leave to your name? Will the people left in your wake remember only suffering?" the matron growled, digging her sharp nails in against his cheek and giving him a quick shake. "I have spared your life. As such, I lay claim to it. I will see that debt repaid. Remain and serve those other than just yourself â or face your death this day." Seeing the cold light in her eyes, Kerr did not doubt she would strike him down in an instant if he refused her.  Yet, there was nothing in his old life that he could return to now. The brief life and the death of that one girl had changed how he viewed everything. His answer was simple and grave. "I will serve."

I wish I could be there for this. Remember to take lots of pictures to show us later!