Melkire

Down the drink, shatter the top half of the glass against a table or something, hold what remains by the bottom, and shove the new sharp end into someone's face. ...can't be helped, that's the first thing that jumps into Osric's head. "Potential weapon".

Jameson....

I tend to view lore in most settings as more of a framework that then contains original concepts, rather than a set of definitive rules that must be stringently adhered to. FFXIV is no exception. For this reason, I tend to be more accepting more often of lore bending than outright lore breaking. Most concepts I run into ICly, therefore, don't necessarily require or even elicit the "run, drink it away, and disregard it as a fever dream" reaction. Case in point, I've run into quite a few variations of the Echo, and most of them were well within the confines of what little established lore we have on that topic. That's lore bending; you're working within a framework, but you're fudging a little here and there, and shifting this support beam about half a foot over, which while not perfect is at least within a certain tolerance. Now, on the other hand, if some Black Mage stood in front of my characters and then summoned the fully-fledged Bahamut? That's lore breaking, and I have a tendency to drop the RP right then and there if circumstances prevent me from passing it off as anything less than as-presented. Self-validation of claims that take a hard divergence from the established lore such that we break out of the framework that is FFXIV? Not okay with me. I've never yet had to ditch a storyline or plot or narrative in this way yet as far as FFXIV RP goes, but I've had to do so elsewhere, and it always sucks. Those experiences have instilled caution and selectivity that borders on elitism in me. It's not "this person's RP sucks," it's "I can't trust that RP with this person won't progress into degrees of lore bending or lore breaking that I'm not okay with, so I'm not even going to start RPing with them." This doesn't just apply to lore, either. If we're going to be getting into themes I'm uncomfortable with, an OoC dialogue begins and continues until limits are set and agreed to, or until talks break down and I decide to bail.

Surprise was not on the menu this sun. She had nowhere else to go, after all, but up and in. His eyes swept back and forth over the hull as he moved, never focusing on any one particular point of egress bar the main entrance but rather taking in the ship as a whole, keen and alert and intent on picking out that dull bluish gray fur against the aged wood. Mooring lines were of note. Too many moons spent at sea to not know his way around a seafaring vessel. Anchor or no anchor, you put in at port? You tie yourself down, anchor be damned. That’s just how things are. There. No point in following after her. Keeper. Too fast, too agile, too gods-damned good at the vertical. Main entrance. He barged inside, spun about, and broke for the stairs leading up to the next deck of the Braveheart. They were yelling now, the officers of the Storm, sounding the alarm, organizing as swiftly as they could to restore order. He didn’t have much time. What little he had to spare, he used to barrel into a Triad table and rebound off the scandalized seamen, slipping one’s Maelstrom jacket one off the man’s shoulder and concealing it behind his own back as he staggered away, apologizing profusely before turning around again, his footfalls thundering. He turned a corner and his free hand swept up and back through his hair, mussing it as best he could as he slipped his other arm through a sleeve and drew the uniform over one shoulder. She’s going to hide. No other choice. He’d just have to blend in, then.

Too soon. :cry: (two decades would still be too soon)

The only time damage meters matter is when the DPS is too low. The only time the DPS being too low matters is when failing to meet or surpass soft/hard enrage timers. Meeting or surpassing soft/hard enrage timers requires pushing phases faster. The only times pushing phases faster is even remotely a necessity are the primals, later Coil turns, and a few outlying cases such as Madison from Sastasha HM, and even then, as Sounsyy pointed out, it's ridiculously easy to tell when DPS is too low and/or slacking. No need for a parser for that. Q.E.D., if you're not in endgame content (EX or Coil) and someone's trying to justify chewing you out based on what a parser is telling them, they're probably an asshole. Mini-rant: if you kill the add during the Midgardsormr boss fight and then not activate the generator in time (as in, not one person bothered to try to hit the button), wiping us to the arena-wide AoE, and the tank (myself, in this case) then asks whether we're going to hit the button this time around or if he should bail, eat a 30min penalty, and come back with a group who will hit the button... that tank is not a "diva," nor are they a "whiny bitch ass," and I'm oh so sorry that I decided to need on the Varlet's Haubergeon that dropped for seals. Maybe, if you want that piece of gear so bad, you should suck it up and play the "whiny bitch ass diva" role and experience what it's like for others to blatantly waste your time.

...correct me if I'm wrong, but the concept described here that is being considered by the OP as the mechanical justification for BLU would be, essentially, a FFXIV take on the Sharingan from Naruto. If that is the case, fair word of warning: now matter how different you make this mechanic in minutae, there are going to be a lot of roleplayers who will object to this. Regardless of how you spin it, roleplayers of conjurers and thaumaturges and arcanists and every other school of magic are going to be disgruntled that this concept allows the character in question an intuitive, "unearned" understanding of how certain feats are performed or accomplished. Their characters will be disgruntled because they will take this as an invalidation of their own skills and hard work. Good execution can mitigate this, such as the "you can learn how its done instantly but it will take you months of practice to perform it" idea. That said, this amounts to gimping the character to a significant degree. For the record, I am not saying the OP shouldnt do this. I am saying that the OP should prepare themselves for a certain amount or degree of rejection should they choose to implement their concept as-is. This is especially true given that BLU has yet to be officially introduced to XIV and its lore, despite the existing numbers, however small, of BLU roleplayers.

Hustings Strip was an oddity in some ways. The same red carpets that spoke of prestige and nobility also muffled his footsteps as he walked right up to Ser Coatleque Crofte, his right arm still hanging limp at his side, an envelope held precariously in his left hand. ‘twas the very same envelope he’d torn open not a bell ago. Perused its contents, even. The woman just looked at him at first. Very nearly a glare, her regard. As he’d counted on, though, rather than sneer at him in public forum, she merely nodded. Poise, deportment, Twelve knew what else, she hadn’t left any of it behind her. Improved upon, rather. Perhaps. “Good evening, Sergeant.” Osric Melkire opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Eyed her back. Considered. Weighed his options. “Ser. Pardon if I don’t salute.” He glanced over at his right shoulder, his head canting just enough to accentuate his point. He held out the envelope and shook it slightly. “Lazarov delivered. There somewhere private we can talk?” She peered at the envelope with narrowed eyes. “In Ul’dah? Never. Unless you consider my office private enough.” The Sultansworn gestured for him to follow, then rounded the corner behind her and strolled a meager ways to a door down the adjacent hall. He followed, then waited a mere moment or two for her to open the door and formally invite him inside. The sound of that portal falling shut behind him set him on edge, but he beat down those insticts. They’d been honed a lifetime ago, and had no place her. Not right now, anyroad. Crofte rounded her desk and took a letter off the top before sitting across from him. Her sword, she unbuckled and leaned back against the wall behind her. She gestured for him to sit. “Understand if I am still not keen on trading words just yet.” Ain’t goin’ t’bother with pleasantries. He marched on up to the desk and dropped the envelope there with a flick of his wrist. “No need for words. Just some trust in common duty. I haven’t made copies.” He caught sight of her eyes as they lowered to the envelope for a moment. “Very well. You should be quite pleased with this also.” She took the letter and, as she did, she offered him the one she held. He took it with a wary glance. Some fumbling with the fingers of his left hand soon had it open. He barely moved as he mouthed out the contents. Crofte, Kinslayer yet lives. Barely, but Wolfsong interfered at the last minute. I should have known better than to expect him to come to his senses even after knowing what she had done. Be wary. I know the snake will look to strike back. ~ Shaelen Stormchild “…so that’s where he was. Bastard never…” Wolfsong had never responded to his last missive. Had that missive never reached its intended recipient? Blasted buggerin’ post could be unreliable even on the best of suns. He glanced up in time to spot Crofte’s brow furrowing as her expression turned from disgust to outright anger. He could see the tension in her jaw as she ground her teeth and collected the various contents back together into the envelope and slid it back across the desk. “So that’s it, then,” she finally said. “The man eludes justice, but his plans are foiled. Until he returns with another guise, alias, and renewed thirst for blood.” He smirked. “You look no happier than m’self when y’told me Jameson might still be out there.” He sobered. “Here and now. Mercy.” Her eye twitched, but she took a slow, deep breath. “Sergeant. Osric, if I am not too bold. We can speak of Jameson another sun when our tempers have cooled enough to do so.” The Immortal Flame stared down at her for a long, frigid while. “Fine. To business. How t’approach our Ernis Randolph problem. I’d say we ought t’bring the Blades in on this, but I’m not sure mobilizin’ anyone is a good idea, given the original outline.” The paladin leaned back in her chair and bit her lip while glancing around the office walls. “Given the current situation in Ul’dah, mobilizing anyone could draw the wrong attention. Public opinion is already on a knife’s edge. And the Sultansworn are all but paralyzed.” Melkire planted his palm on the desk, fingers splayed, and leaned forward. “Let me make this clear. I brought this t’you because regardless o’ personal differences ‘tween you and I, we owe this sultanate and her peoples our service. We took… nah, we swore oaths. I brought this t’you instead o’ Jenlyns because…” He took a deep breath, then swallowed something foul. “…because y’ain’t green anymore. You act. You know how, even if I disagree with the ‘why’ and ‘what for’. So. Suggestions. I’d like yours.” She finally managed to look him in the face, and her expression softened somewhat. “You know I was nto trying to shirk such duty, of course.” She peered down at her desk in thought. “Blades are too hamfisted. You have more connections within the Flames, perhaps a smaller elite group could infiltrate these key points in turn.” She gestured to the envelope and the maps contained therein. “Of course you need to decide what the goal is first, before action may be taken. Are we rounding up these men for the gaols? And as always, I will not sit and watch from the sidelines. The Order may be paralyzed as a whole, but I may still act undercover.” He reached up and slipped his turban off to meet her gaze. “We don’t give Lazarov what he wants. Not at this cost. Not ever.” He sighed. “Gaols seem impractical, but we can’t be the ones spillin’ blood. What we really need is Ernis apprehended, and his weapons and that… and that abomination of a machine seized.” Coatleque nodded in agreement. “I would suggest, foolish as it seems, a direct assault. We know where he is. Do not gamble with the city’s lives. You know I am always hesitant to spill blood. But the picture I have been painted by that letter is of ruthless men.” “We know where he’ll be, o’ course, but if we wait too long, we risk too much. Havin’ his name makes things easier… I have an idea, but you won’t like it.” “Speak then.” “We have Randolph’s name. I have milkweed seized from… certain warehouses.” He canted his head to one side again, curious to see her reaction to this suggestion. “Bribes work well in Ul’dah… especially with addicts.” She blinked and quirked an eyebrow. “I am confused as to your intent. You want to merely pay him to abandon his plans and dismantle these weapons?” “Course not. Meanin’ t’wet a few appetites for information. Where he’s holed up, if he’s still where Lazarov said he was, his movements, and so on.” She pursed her lips, then chewed the inside of her mouth in thought. “As much asI loathe the idea of handing out contraband, I cannot disagree with your logic. I would present one additional option as well. Namely, Roen Deneith.” The sergeant’s face went hard. “Oh?” “…do not think worse of me for what I’ve done to her. I chastise myself enough as it were. From what I’ve gathered, she was trying to stop this ‘Scythe’ fellow as well. Nero was supposed to do it himself, but when he changed his mind, she came back. I do not know where she is now. I would imagine she has not gone far.” “Were I her, I wouldn’t want to be found… and the Keeper went lookin’. You’re suggestin’ we risk losin’ time findin’ her? To do what?” Crofte shrugged. “I am suggesting no such thing. If your Keeper is already on her trail, that should suffice. I imagine the woman would rest easier knowing the truth.” He squinted. “What truth?” The woman sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “That her former lover has gone insane and escaped justice. That no more blood will be shed on his account, for now at least. Sergeant, you know I am not good at gathering information. If you think these bribes will get us what we need…” “There’s the other option you suggested. A smaller, elite group.” She nodded once. “That may be our only viable recourse at this time. I cannot act openly without drawing unwanted attention to the palace. But if you tell me where you need me, I will be there.” He nodded back. “I’ve no pull with the Red Wings these suns, but m’self and the other castoffs, we might serve. Shite, Swift did throw us in the same unit. Why the hells not?” He pushed himself upright and ran his left hand back up through his hair. “That and the contraband. Two tasks. Find Ernis, evacuate the civilians.” A slight smirk creeped across Crofte’s face. “For what time but this have the Twelve seen fit to bring your people together, then?” Osric snorted. “Ser, you don’t want t’know. Movin’ on... how d’you want this done? You know more o’ security on the streets than I do. We Flames are more o’ less glorified thugs, after all.” Not entirely truthful, that… but concessions were key in soothing one’s marks. “Knowing is one thing. Pulling rank is another. I had a small advantage with… with Taeros’ influence of the Blades. Alas, that is gone now. The more quiet we can keep this, the better. Judging by the confession, some of those guards have already been paid not to be present either way. That could work to our advantage.” He took a slow breath. “It could. Listen. You said the ‘sworn are paralyzed. You ain’t. The Flames ain’t. I ain’t worth tuco’s piss leadin’ a street cleanup right now.” He smiled for the first time since entering her office. “Would y’like t’meet the Dauntless?” She returned the smile. “If I am going to be working with them, it is only prudent.” He nodded and reached up to tap at the linkpearl in his left ear, his turban still in hand. He turned and strolled to the far end of her office, speaking in hushed tones and whispers. Simple matter to contact the lieutenant and the others; their pearls were never far. Company policy kept things that way. He grinned at the voices in his ear, as if someone had just told him he’d won at life, then he turned back for a moment. “Chamber of Rule? Meet them at the lift?” She looked up at him rather incredulously. It was clear she hadn’t been expecting guests this soon. “As you wish.” He glanced at the door expectantly. “They’re here t’meet you, not me.” She all but jumped in her seat, then stood and rounded the desk again, taking up her sword as she went. He pulled his turban back on and adjusted the mask as she pulled the door open for him. Kanaria Galanodel met them not a dozen paces past the door to Crofte’s office. He wasn’t surprised. She was always near when needed. The three of them made their way over to the lift, only for the sergeant to frown as he spotted two Miqo’te dressed in casual attire. “Not even in…” Gods, not even in uniform. “I was in the middle of working on the rings,” retorted the redhair as he shrugged at his sergeant. “You’re lucky I didn’t show up in my lab coat… though I thought about it.” Osric cleared his throat as he stepped to one side. “Ser Coatleque Crofte, might I introduce Lieutenant Korofi, Lady Siha Xinkei, and Lieutenant Galanodel.” The Sultansworn looked to each in turn and offered a slight bow in greeting, which was, thank the Twelve, promptly returned. Siha smiled in apology as she cleared her throat. “A pleasure, Ser Crofte.” “Osric said you wanted to meet us for a mission,” the redhair asked as he inclined his head curiously. Coatleque smiled. “Yes, though I can hardly be the one to lead it. It seems you have quite the assembly, Sergeant.” He grumbled under his breath. Something about lack of uniforms and improper address and rutting salutes being forgotten and gods knew what else. “Truthfully,” continued the paladin, “I do not know much about your unit besides what Sergeant Melkire has told me.” “What has he told you,” asked Korofi as he shot the sergeant a curious look. “Small,” Osric grunted in answer. “Elite. Professional,” he growled in a biting tone. “Ah… not very professional today. I’ll admit I didn’t take the time to change.” The redhair coughed awkwardly and looked down at himself. “Don’t need professional, rightly speakin’. Need competence.” Siha lifted a brow briefly at Osric, then glanced back to Crofte with another smile as she took a step forward. “Sometimes we don’t have the time. We keep as busy as we can.” “We’re definitely competent,” said the male. “In this case, I must agree.” Crofte nodded. “Can you also be discreet?” “We can.” “We’re not hiring Ki again,” the sergeant all but barked, adamant and steadfast as he stood his ground. “As long as we’re not hiring Ki again.” Korofi looked over at Osric and smiled thinly. “Ki has other things to worry about.” “Quite a few things to worry about,” murmured Galanodel. Melkire sighed with relief as the redhair grinned. “No, if it’s discretion that’s needed I know who to assign.” “Back to the office, then?” The sergeant shifted his feet. “This is… sensitive.” They all nodded, Crofte in particular. “Yes, especially given the circumstances.” “Step lively, then.” Crofte closed the door behind them and rounded her desk again, as Xinkei tucked herself into a corner at a comfortable distance from Korofi and glanced curiously at the paladin. Melkire strolled up to the desk, Galanodel right behind him, and lifted the torn envelope from the desk before handing it over to the lieutenant. Korofi took the envelope, his ears flexing back as he pulled out the contents to read. Crofte leaned back in her chair again and crossed her arms as Osric strolled over to the other corner to stand in front of Kanaria. “Of course, none of this information is to leave this room… for the time being. If this plot gets out, there will be mass hysteria on the streets.” The redhair stopped reading and glanced over at the sergeant. This time, his ears flattened with purpose as the tiny Miqo’te studied the midlander before looking back to the documents in his hands. Behidn him, Siha’s brows drew together as she frowned, but she remained quiet. “I’m listening,” the lieutenant responded, stopping long enough to pull a small gold pearl from his ear. “Sworn can’t handle this right now,” Osric explained. “You know why. Blades we can’t trust with it. Flames in numbers will result in mayhem.” “Our mission is clear, at least,” interjected Coatleque. “We must find this man and stop him before anyone else suffers, or worse. And the Sergeant is correct.” “The man and his weapons. He’s not theonly fanatic t’consider. There are his men.” Korofi slowly passed back the first page of the letter to Siha and muttered, “pass it to Kanaria when you’re done.” Crofte shifted in her chair. “You cannot look to the Sultansworn for aid, unfortunately, since the balance has tipped in this city. But I will aid as much as I can under cover.” The small calico bristled as he read through the second page. “…I understand. The current situation puts all of us in a bind, but it will be easier for us to move swiftly and efficiently, especially with our civilian attachments. We have the luxury of being faces in a crowd.” He passed another page to Siha. “Sergeant Melkire had an idea on how to flush this man out of hiding, or at least find a lead back to him.” Siha passed off the first page to Kanaria as the hyuran woman stepped over to her. The pale Keeper’s frown deepened as she perused the second page, her eyes widening in shock. “Private Od’hilkas and I seized some contraband back when he was still a lieutenant and we were still with the Red Wings. Milkweed,” Melkire explained. “Pearl Lane has its fair share of addicts lookin’ for a fix, and Ernis Randolph ain’t that common a name.” Korofi stopped reading long enough to pull out the steel. He shook the blueprints free as he tucked the remaining pages of the letter under his arm so that he could look each one over in earnest. He sighed heavily through his nose, eyes scanning the blueprints before folding them back up and swapping them with the letters. He passed the third page off to Siha and moved on to the next. “I need not say more to emphasize the gravity of this situation,” said the paladin. “Shite, you ain’t kiddin,” retorted the sergeant. “Brought this t’you first thing. Couldn’t sit on it.” “And for that you have my thanks. This man has been a thorn in Ul’dah’s side far too long.” “You’ve read all of this? Both of you?” Korofi pulled out the second map and started glancing between it and the fourth page of the letter. Siha shook her head behind him and passed another page to Kanaria as she read the next, muttering under her breath. “Aye, though I might o’ skimmed over some details.” “We can keep these?” The calico passed the fourth page back to the Keeper. “Better with us than here in the palace, I think, no?” Crofte smirked. “The Dauntless should keep them, yes. You will be the primary agents that stop this man. Scythe. Ernis.” “Good,” said Lieutenant Korofi. “I want to have a better look at some of it back in my lab.” He handed off the last page to Siha before tucking the maps and blueprints and steel joint back into the envelope. “And what about Nero?” “Gone,” answered t Melkire. “This takes priority.” “It is as the Sergeant says. We cannot afford to go after him while so many lives are at risk.” Siha shuffled another page over to Kanaria. She nodded in agreement, as did Korofi. They all looked grim. “Agreed,” said the redhair. “Ul’dah is our priority.” He glanced at the sergeant. “You’re right, though. Grimsong can’t come this time… and neither can Khalo.” His shoulders sagged, ears flexing and flattening again as he looked back at Crofte. “But if anyone can take care of this, I’m confident that it’s us.” “Mm, I would have to agree,” Kanaria said as her eyes rose to meet Osric’s. The man grinned. Coatleque nodded once. “Would that I could lend you more than just my blade. I have every confidence in you, though.” Osric turned to Korofi. “Can we use Samuel for this?” The lieutenant shook his head. “He’s indisposed. If we have to, we can use A’laric.” The Miqo’te’s gaze shifted back to Crofte. “You’re in too tight of a position right now to take care of this. That’s understood. Don’t fret over it.” “…havin’ an Ala Mhigan might help, though…” “Jin is Ala Mhigan. I’ll message him, Osric. If he’s back from his sabbatical.” “Oh, I was thinkin’ we’d have Crofte here be our plant.” “Hn. But being a ‘sworn….” “Plant?” Crofte blinked and sat upright as she interjected. “Are bearings and voices so easily concealed?” Siha passed the last pages off to Kanaria and gave Crofte a small smile.” “…and a face I know is well-known,” the lieutenant continued. “Even I’ve seen it, and I don’t know anyone.” “Exactly,” the highlander woman said. “Unless you intend to use some method of concealment.” Osric shook his head. “We need t’find Ernis, and we need a voice t’start folks movin’ if we need to evacuate. Dyes and haircuts are cheap, I should know. Throw in some dirt….” “If we need a voice,” asked Korofi, “what about your contact from the Quicksand?” “My whaaa?” “Aya?” Kanaria glanced between the two men. “Yeah, her.” “…that might do. Hold on.” The sergeant turned and fiddled with the linkpearl in his ear for a bit as Kanaria returned to pouring over the last few pages. “No offense, Ser Crofte,” Korofi said. “I’d rather not endanger anything on this mission. You included. And a Miqo’te would pick you out by your scent if they knew you.” He tapped his nose. “None taken, of course,” answered the paladin. “I am known by many throughout this city by now. The further away from Thanalan, the better my chances.” Korofi nodded. “It’s understandable. Besides, it would look suspicious for you to disappear abruptly…. The only way we could work it is if we found you a double for quiet appearances while we found a way to alter your scent. Which is not beyond the realm of possibilities.” Crofte shook her head. “Overly complicated for the scope of the mission. Someone else will have to suffice. I can certainly stay nearby and disguised, in case a blade is needed.” Lady Xinkei looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure how much time we truly have, but… Nero did say that the other bandits were subjugated by force and fear, did he not? If we are careful and thorough, maybe we can find someone willing to turn on them? It is… not the best solution, but if we had no other choice, there is that. Fear is never the best way to hold someone’s allegiance.” “We would have to know who is susceptible, first,” countered the ‘sworn. “It would be wise to have you near, on retainer. I’ll admit… if things do get to the point of the Blades turning blindly on the refugees…” Korofi bristled. “Public opinion may be poor, but they don’t deserve to die for a fear monger.” “Agreed.” Osric dropped his hand from his ear at last and turned back to the assembly. “Aya’s in. Rousin’ folks and getting’ them movin’ out o’ harm’s way’ll be her job.” “Good,” the lieutenant said. “Siha has a point, though. If we can find the weak link in the chain of command… we need to assemble a team and a plan.” “I agree,” said Crofte, but she shook her head again. “But not here, of course. The walls have ears, and even eyes at times. If you have somewhere better suited, we can meet there. With everyone at once.” “Headquarters?” asked the sergeant. “Next sun?” “Our headquarters, yes. By then it will be sufficiently warded, too.” Korofi glanced towards Siha and Kanaria as if to confirm this. “Goblet,” provided Melkire. “Ward Four subdivision, southwestern district.” Crofte jotted that down on a random paper on her desk. “I shall be there. Out of uniform, of course.” She folded the paper and quickly hid it away. “If there were no further questions for the night, Sergeant…? I believe we all have much to think on while we still have time to think.” “No, not unless y’hard any for us.” “Not as of yet. I will review the letters in detail overnight.” “Not much time at all,” mumbled Korofi as he moved to gather the pages from Kanaria. The midlander woman pulled them away slowly, hugging them to her chest while she blinked at her fellow lieutenant. “You can have the blueprints and the steel,” Osric told Korofi. “Let her hold onto the letter.” “I want to to read it again. Rather, I need to. So I’d like to have a look at it soon.” “…Crofte, if you’ve more ink, I’d suggest copying down what you need now.” Kanaria nodded quickly. “I, uh… um… when you are done, then, could I have them back so I can lock them away?” “Yes,” Korofi answered. “But we need to be able to peruse them for now.” “I will write down what I need, and send a runner within the bell,” Crofte said. “Re-sealed, of course.” “Would you take it amiss,” inquired Melkire, “if I said I don’t feel right, leavin’ those pages alone here with you?” “…Sergeant, at this time, I do not feel right leaving myself here alone, either.” Good answer. Kanaria handed the letter over to the lieutenant. “You’ll have them back,” he promised her, before moving to the desk and passing them to Crofte. “Don’t send a runner,” Osric said. “Come yourself. Private by name o’ Mortar guards our door. Y’can leave them with him.” “Elsewise, there’s Plumb as well,” supplied Korofi. “We’re trustin’ Plumb with this? Gods above.” “Plumb’s loyalty to Ul’dah is unquestionable. He’d never let these fall into the wrong hands.” “I shall deliver it personally within the next bell,” the paladin interjected. “Just be sure you have the right man waiting.” Melkire turned and saluted Crofte as best he could with his left arm. “Dunesfolk both. They’ll be in uniform. We’d best be off.” “Ser Crofte.” Korofi saluted. The gesture lacked the finesse of a seasoned soldier, but it was a marked improvement from before. “Yes, I shall see you next sun if not before. And remember…” Ser Coatleque Crofte rose and walked round her desk to let them out. “…watch for the snake’s return.”

ATTENTION: The directory has been pruned and updated for the Month of May! If you wish to be put back on the list, simply post again!

Ah. Osric has a number of beliefs that are essentially undermined by the sum total of his life experience. For instance, his belief that there are certain ideals that society should strive for, such as the supposed Sanctity of Life, is difficult to hold fast to when he is faced with constant reminders, from his past or from his present, of the reality: that there will always be the downtrodden, and that there will always be those who trod on them, and that the former are more often than not at the mercy of the latter. Therein lies the challenge that so defines the character, because the extreme steps that are at times required from him to, in his eyes, bring the reality closer to the ideal often involve Catch-22s, such as his recent decision to condemn and attempt to assassinate a man in the name of the greater good. Much of the character conflict with Osric involves his trying to step away from his history of torture, murder, and other repulsive acts that are condemned by the very ideals he values... and yet he's often required to sacrifice his own stance, his own moral ground, in order to overcome the obstacles that stand in the way of his goals. Validation means little for him, other than as an essential restraint and as a lifeline by which to cling to his humanity. Rarely if ever does he assume that he is "in the right"; every decision and choice is heavily scrutinized beforehand, and he occasionally seeks out others for their perspectives, opinions, and input. The nature of these dilemmas means that those he finds harmony with and those he has friction with are an ever-changing lot, not in the sense that old faces go out and new faces come in, but rather that an ally today is a foe tomorrow, or vice versa. In a perversely appropriate way, those he never finds himself at odds with are the practical, down-to-earth, worldly sort - Keepers such as Kiht Jakkya, for instance. I say "perversely" because in such cases, the man with grand ideals finds the most common ground on the most consistent basis with those who have the "smallest" ideals: food, drink, shelter, family, a corner of the world in which to quietly live out their lives, and the drive to protect those things and only those things, even if it means a fight to the death, literally or figuratively.

Yoshida, you're one year closer to your inevitable demise. Please look forward to it. (Happy Birthday)

[Moderator Hardhat] Moving this thread to Off-Topic. We might need to revamp the description for the Artisan House board, which is meant more for community artists looking to show off or share their work. Vids like these would find their way into either FFXIV discussion, if XIV-related, or Off-Topic. I'll leave a forum redirect up for a couple days, just in case. If you feel the move was in error, please PM me. [/Moderator Hardhat]

I'd like to echo this sentiment, as well. The drive behind this effort turned out to be less "revamp the rules" and more "codify the rules so that we can be a little more standard across the board". The varying degrees of moderator action were in large part a consequence of not having said standards in place for what sort of violation required what type, degree, and/or severity of response. That resulted in surprises for users when moderaction action was taken against their posts, in some folks feeling unfairly treated relative to others, in individual reluctance on the part of staff to moderate the heavier issues without vetting it with their peers, and so on and so forth. The new outline at least lets everyone, users and moderators both, know that "Behavior A is not acceptable and will result in Action X taken by staff". That we're getting all this feedback from you (interspersed with concerns, but that was expected) is a good thing. It means we can revisit the outline as written if need be. It means that we have a better grasp on RPC community expectations for what is and isn't fair play on both the user's end and the staff's. It means we can better manage these forums in such ways as to foster informative discussions, constructive workshops, question-and-answer roundtables, and the like while curbing disruptions and aggressive behaviors that aren't conducive to such talks. In short: love the feedback, it helps to hear from you all!

This is probably the best and briefest summation of the positives and negatives of Tavern RP I've seen yet.

John Carmack as a game designer instead of a programmer.

They weren't enumerated in detail, nor was moderation policy standardized or transparent. This should also make reporting easier, since the specific rule under violation can now be cited. There is also now a "Rules" tab in the site header for easy access and high visibility.

Said scenario should never actually occur as per the rules themselves. They'd be at 2 points across all months, post a meme and that'd be their minor for the month, leaving them at either 2 or 4 points. Yes, but there is a blanket 20 points a year = ban. Edit: Apparently osric's post means I read that wrong. Whoops, no, you read it right, I forgot the per-year clause. It was a late addition and it slipped my mind as a result. As Freelance said, that number 20 is under supervision and might be changed later down the line. On a personal level, Nat, halfway there for 1/3rd of the year seems bad, but you've improved lately. Wouldn't be surprised to see that trend continue, especially in light of temp bans that will see actual use now. Having time to cool off does loads to curb bad posting habits. If you're worried about pre-existing warnings, that's something we can discuss in PMs, as I don't think we'll be counting those, only the ones from now moving forward. FW, please correct me if I'm wrong.

I've seen this on SA and elsewhere. I don't think it's unreasonable. It's an extra step on the mods' part for extra transparency, but I'd be fine with that. Whether this qualifies as "public shaming" is something I can't answer for everyone, but I think in clear-cut cases of violations, it's not shaming so much as reinforcing the fact that the rules are still there. EDIT: I forgot the 20-max-per-year clause that was the crux of the dscussion. Whoops. Chucked that part of my post out b4 more confusion.

I was strolling around in-character through Limsa one day, several months back (closer to half a year, really) when I came across a rather large number of what were obviously roleplayers, most of them from the same free company, standing on some out-of-the-way marble platform in a circle. They were clearly roleplaying, and I got a little excited thinking that maybe I'd stumbled upon a scene and I could have my character react to it appropriately. I'm sorry to say that I stood around for about ten minutes before concluding that they were obviously roleplaying in a public space in private channels, either /party or /ls, because there was no text that popped up in /say, /yell, /shout, or /em from any of them. I decided to move on, disappointed and a little bitter. The supposed lack of public roleplay outside of housing wards and Ul'dah has little to do with location and more to do with lack of interest. If large quantities of individuals truly wanted to roleplay in certain areas on the overworld, they would do so and not fall into the "well, there's no RP here that I can see or find, I suppose I'll go to the Quicksand today" trap. Ask folks who have frequently roleplayed or currently do roleplay in Limsa, La Noscea, Gridania, or the Shroud about their experiences. You'll be surprised. They're either already there roleplaying (be it in public or private, regardless of how frequent) or they've decided they'd rather not bother. EDIT 1: I didn't vote because I couldn't find a "I'm not having a problem" option. I bounce to the aforementioned locations when my character finds reasons or call for it, and the roleplay happens from there. EDIT 2: tl;dr: the folks who want to roleplay elsewhere are already roleplaying elsewhere, if someone's having trouble finding them, that's on them as an individual.

Taking my cue from Hammersmith. Imagine a large cavernous chamber. One half of this chamber is well-lit, and it is filled with people of all sorts and kinds and races and ages and walks of life. In the well-lit section, you can find almost every amenity imaginable. Comfortable sofas, tables, bookshelves filled with texts and novels on just about every subject and topic, toys, entertainment centers, TVs, DVD players, movies, video games, a kitchen complete with every piece of china and silverware you could ever need, a refrigerator that provides all the water you'd ever need for drinking, an oven, a sink and dishwasher, beds aplenty for folks to sleep and fornicate on, heaters, air conditioners..... ...but there's no food. The other half of the large cavernous chamber is dark. Pitch-black, almost. From deep within that void, on occasion, can be heard chilling noises, the cries and screams and grunts and panting of wild animals. Beasts... but beasts that keep to the shadows. In the middle of the chamber, in the grey that marks the divide between light and dark, white and black, is a small coffee table. On that coffee table is a single large hunting knife. Outside of the rather tame cutlery and the wooden chairs and other various amenities that might make for makeshift weapons, this knife is the only real, pre-existing purpose-built weapon in the entire chamber. Melkire is the man that picks up that knife every day and delves into pitch-black darkness, risking his life, in order to come back out with food, so that the people in the well-lit half of the chamber might live one more day without turning on each other and cannibalizing their own population in a chaotic frenzy born of desperation. And he does this of his own free will, volition, whatever you want to call it. Not because it needs doing. That's the excuse he gives the others. Because he likes it.

I'm a demonic man on Aldenard~ Ohhhhhh oh, I'm a demonic man, I'm a nomadic demonic man, I'm a demonic man on Aldenard~ Funny story about this, I logged into my Lalafell alt yesterday and was zoomed in at "body shot" zoom factor while I made changes to the HUD and communicated in LS. Started moving around when I noticed this HUUUUUUGE tuco-tuco next to me. "HOLY SHIT DID THEY ADD A NEW MOB??? ........ oh wait. That's uh. That's terrifying. o_O" Lesson learned, Eorzea looks REALLY DIFFERENT WHEN YOU'RE THREE TO FOUR FULMS HIGH. More on-topic, I don't treat PvE player avatars as "visible". They form a backdrop in my mind, and that backdrop is a generic blob of a crowd. So non-roleplayer racial statistics don't really impact my roleplay or my character's perceptions of racial statistics.

Small sample size (3k amounts to approx. 1% of a large server's pop) Bias in sampling (mainly reddit users, some crossover with official forums) No focus (poll isnt inherently for roleplayers or PvE fans exclusively) The data is more or less indicative of a trend of high interest in Au Ra. It says nothing re: expected longevity of this trend. To infer any other conclusions from the data is to misstep, IMO.

Auto-pruning shoutbox would be nice. Limit shouts to, say, once every three hours, then have them expire/pruned after those three hours elapse.

"FIND ALL OF YOUR THREADS" button on the main User CP menu is a godsend for tracking down every thread you've ever made, and should help anyone who wants to go subscribe to their own discussions after disabling self-alerts.

It's a question of limited resources, ultimately, and whether those resources would be better allotted in certain proportions to favor flexibility of customization or generation of new content. Re: vanity, my God, I hope everyone else remembers the 2.0/2.1 days prior to glamour prisms. Tanks stuck in darklight tin cans, anyone? Armor of Light? You had to grind out capped myth or grind Coil for drops if you wanted to look good AND be effective?