Nero

I'm genuinely curious and confused as to what the goal is in limiting the number of Dragoons. What exactly are they trying to convey with this factoid? Should we be finding the Dragoon characters more badass because the standards are so strict and the fighting is so dangerous? Should our WoL be seen as even more amazing because they're a second Azure Dragoon? Should we think dragons are more intimidating because they can kill Dragoons so easily? Hell, should we think that for all of their training and might, lore-Dragoons are incompetent because they seem to die so often despite the high standards and elite training and specialised equipment? Who knows, maybe they're trying to kill Job RP. It's just a little confusing to me as to why you'd stick your guns to an exact figure. It takes way less mental gymnastics to keep the figures plausibly vague, especially when every other relevant figure in making this "thirty dragoons at a time, ten dragoons presently" figure believable (example: Ishgard's total population, the size of Ishgard's military, the number of soul crystals, the number of Drachen Mail, etc.) is conspicuously absent. EDIT: Also, unless I missed quest text somewhere, we still have no idea how dragoons jump. Basically, WoL gets chosen by Eye of Nidhogg, and now he can jump into the air. Is it exclusive to dragon power or something?

It sounds like you're after a more character-driven story than device-driven, the latter seemingly the case for FFXIV? Because, comparatively, I think the MSQ is an absolute masterpiece insofar as the MMO framework goes. But then, I'm into the BIG THEATRICS rather than the character drama. Perhaps part of the reason why I'm yearning for a character-driven story is because I'm not particularly fond of the plot itself. That said, I agree entirely with Valence's assessment that FFXIV's story is written around the game design, so stuff like my previously huge rant on Thordan's pacing and him being a waste of a character is something I (now) try to be lenient on, because how I see it is the game designers saying "Okay writers, the players need to get to Azys Lla and fight the Knights of the Round. Make it happen" and within that scenario, there is remarkably little room for producing a compelling scenario. Or, "The players are going to fight Nidhogg-Estinien in 3.3, make it so they don't die in 3.0". Of course, all that is me giving the writers the benefit of the doubt, and choosing to believe that they're limited by the development process and not themselves, so it's entirely possible that I'm wrong. But there are moments where the writers are given room to tie up the story, and the majority of these moments tend to be character-driven. The scene following Estinien's recovery--where he talks about what it was like being under Nidhogg's influence and how his desire for revenge has been snuffed--that was a good scene. Aymeric's dinner was pretty much a plot device to get the WoL away from the Fortemps house so Alisaie could sneak in with her arrow wound. These elements can pretty much be written off from a design standpoint since the goals are extremely basic ("End the 3.3 story" in Estininien's case, "Get WoL out of manor" in Aymeric's case, etc.) Where the writers seem to have the most power is in expressing the characters, and where they have the least power is in the greater narrative (because that's driven by the game design), so it's in the characters that I'd like to see them improve.

It can be reasonably assumed that Domans are bilingual in Doman and Common. Not only that, but they are fluent in Common, lacking only in specific vocabulary words and certain untranslatable concepts. Yugiri speaks fluent common. All of the Domans we encounter, even the common peasants speak fluent Common. At no point do we see any Doman struggle with Common, save for very few, specific instances. Even then, Oboro is being modest in his confusion. Aether is one of the only words that is considered "Eorzea-specific", and Oboro never has any trouble with the language ever again except when trying to translate untranslatable concepts like "shukuchi", which for example is written in Japanese as "縮地" which literally translates to "shrink place" referring to how Shukuchi compresses two points within the material realm to allow teleportation. By extension, Raen characters should be just as fluent in both languages. That said, I would be particularly forgiving for anyone who thinks the Doman language is just Fantasy Japanese. The evidence for Doman being a one-to-one analogue of Japanese--albeit old-fashioned Japanese--is strong, even without having an explicit mention or example of the language. In a sense, it's not even Fantasy Japanese: all of the names are directly lifted from 17th century Japanese vocabulary. All of the Doman words we see have direct Earth translations of Japanese. Raen naming conventions are built on Japanese kanji. Raen names also follow Japanese grammar rules like using "no" as a modifying particle. I'm pretty sure there's at least one instance of a Doman name using rendaku as well, and if the grammar rules are the same, then the sentence structure is the same. If the writing is the same, the alphabet is the same. If the words and alphabet directly translate to Earth-Japan analogues, then the words are the same. If the grammar rules, alphabet, and vocabulary are all the same, then it can reasonably be equated to the same language. I'll still roll my eyes a little at gratuitous Japanese--again, Domans are shown to have fluency in Common--unless it applies to Doman-specific concepts or untranslatable stuff like onomatopoeia.

This is the impression I got as well, and it's a baffling design decision for a game that is ostensibly heavy on the story. I can at least give credit that the story writers are probably forced into a railroad and have to do their best to tie everything together as best as they can. I wish the story was given heavier weight though: I assume that Square wanted 3.0 to end with a bang so someone wrote "KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND" on a whiteboard and everyone applauded and did their best to crowbar in the Knights of the Round as early as possible. Even so, the development process doesn't particularly excuse the story writers from being what I can only be described as incredibly wasteful with their opportunities. One huge example of this is the dinner with Aymeric. That entire scene had a uniquely composed setting and was fully voiced with different responses from Aymeric depending on what you choose, and it was also completely worthless because the only thing Aymeric ever said is reiterate the same three things he's been saying ever since 3.1: 1). "We are grateful to the Warrior of Light." 2). "I hope Ishgard can change peacefully." 3). "Ishgard must help Eorzea." That whole conversation was so laughably shallow, and the worst part is that the only interesting bit is in the end where the WoL is tentatively given an opportunity to define themselves to the characters outside of a nameless boss-killing plot vehicle. No, Aymeric, I don't want you to talk to me about how Ishgard is undergoing great change (again), nor do I want to hear about how indebted people are to me (again), and no I don't want to hear about how Ishgard must repay the Eorzean Alliance (again). We have a one-on-one conversation, the WoL and Aymeric at this point are implied to be trusted friends, but since the world offers Aymeric no conflict or real resistance, we hear nothing of it. We don't get to hear Aymeric tentatively relying on the WoL as a confidante and saying that he's unsure about his role as Lord Speaker. We don't get to hear about how Aymeric might possibly like being a politician and a people-pleaser. We don't hear anything interesting about Aymeric at all, but he's really grateful to us and Ishgard is undergoing great change and will have to help the Alliance. Anyway, I'm going to stop harping on this subject now, but I earnestly hope Stormblood's writing is better.

Not sure I'd like to see a new race, because invariably it will end up being something like "Hyur with rubber foreheads" (see: Au Ra being Hyur with horns and scales). I'd rather they just improve the animations for existing races. For non-playable races though, I'd love to see Bangaa or Nu Mou.

The real magic displayed in the trailer is Maybe!Yda managing to fight in an outfit with such a prominent boob window and never having to deal with a serious wardrobe malfunction. New eight-star crafting material: double sided tape. Lots of it.

To expand on my earlier point, my main criticism is that I disagree on the focus of the expansion and that the characters suck because of the pacing of the story. Aymeric, Lucia, Estinien, Ysayle, Thordan, Haurchefant, the Four Houses...on their own and as they're portrayed, all of these characters are, as Valence described, pretty much a write-off. Estinien is an angry guy who gets corrupted by an angry dragon. Lucia is a stale and generic "second in command" character. Thordan was a mustache twirling zealot. Haurchefant was a one-dimensional nice guy whose death really had zero impact whatsoever on a narrative or character development scale. Aymeric is a pretty-boy Reasonable Authority Figure who does not particularly contemplate any of his decisions after the fact nor really suffer any consequences of such (besides getting stabbed with a fruit knife that one time). The thing is that these characters didn't have to be flat. They could have been so much more, and the fact that they were shafted in favour of giving more screentime to the Scions upsets me, because I don't find the Scions to be particularly compelling. And yeah, you could write off all of my criticisms as petulant "Waaah Square Enix didn't write the story the way I wanted it to be written", and you'd pretty much be correct, but I still protest. Thordan is a huge example of this. All hail Archbishop Wasted Opportunity VII. Thordan did not get nearly the amount of buildup he needed. The pacing of his story is terrible. He locks up Aymeric, runs away, ninja loots the key to Azys Lla, goes to Azys Lla and becomes a primal for about twenty minutes before dying. And part of this problem is how easily the majority of Ishgard accepts responsibility for starting the Dragonsong War. Thordan's response to Aymeric threatening to reveal the truth shouldn't have been to lock Aymeric up, but to say "Who would believe you?" The Ishgardians have been the subject of a measured genocidal war that was deliberately transformed into a war of attrition for a thousand years. Aymeric suddenly showing up and saying "Hey guys, the dragons said it's actually our fault, and it totally is" should not have worked as well as it did. The main conflict between Thordan and Aymeric's ideologies in the game is implied to be order versus chaos, except Thordan's idea of "order" is completely batshit and nonsensical. Thordan's whole deal should have been that Ishgard needs the Dragonsong War, or at least the dragons as enemies, to remain stable and to retain its heritage and national identity. For one thousand years, Ishgard's been throwing themselves at the dragons, and to completely undermine the last thousand years of war would do nothing but sow chaos and breed discontent and destroy the unity that's kept the city together all this time. That is the idea of order that Thordan should have been trying to adhere to: the status quo is god, or ends on favourable terms. Instead, Thordan for some reason decides that the path to piece is a world of absolute order at the cost of all freedoms and the destruction of anyone who opposes him. He becomes more one dimensional in motivations than Sauron. This is some insane hypocritical thinking since he opens the gates so the Heretics can assault the foundation to fuel the prayers to become King Thordan, and this motivation completely robs him of any legitimacy. There's no escalation. Thordan immediately jumps to fire the nuke that is becoming King Thordan. There's no buildup. And that's most of Heavensward's writing in a nutshell: the pacing is awful, so all these characters either fix things flawlessly in an incredibly short time, or immediately become insane to move the plot along. Aymeric could have been really good. Here we have a military man and bastard son of the Archbishop suddenly become embroiled in politics and trusted to lead the future of his nation. I keep mocking his getting stabbed with a fruit knife in 3.1, but there was some actual drama there: the nobility accused Aymeric of being a patricidal heretic and saw his removing Thordan as a power grab. And the reason why Aymeric seems mostly flat is because the world doesn't give him any consequences to deal with, and even if they do, we never see him deal with this consequences. Ishgard becomes a seamless democracy with no problem. He doesn't care about the Eyes of Nidhogg at all or the implication that Nidhogg might come back as long as they're still intact. Everyone respects and follows him without question. He faces no genuine conflict that reflects upon his character besides "He's a nice guy and does good stuff". Why is Aymeric never overwhelmed by the politics? Why do we never see his frustration from having to juggle the wants and needs of Lords and commoners? Why does he never think about the ramifications of his actions (fucking EYES OF NIDHOGG, ANYONE)? There is a lot of room for serious depth that goes wasted because ultimately, Aymeric is a side character. And the thing is that Lucia can have real depth too besides being Aymeric's arm candy. She's a defected Garlean. We can never tell if her experience as a soldier in the Empire colours her perception of Eorzea or Ishgard. We never see Aymeric really rely on her except as a patsy or a messenger. If Aymeric is busy running the country as Lord Speaker, shouldn't she be in charge of the Temple Knights? Shouldn't Lucia have some apprehensions on being found out as a Garlean and being put in a position of authority? She's devoted to Aymeric and Ishgard, but we never see her be relevant except when she's doing something in Aymeric's stead. Is she ashamed of being Garlean? And the Scions. Ugh. Here's why I don't like any of the writing for the Scions: they do display a measure of depth, consequence, and respond to consequence, but the thing is that their writing is built on more bad writing. Let's take for example Thancred, who has some real weight among the Scions. He felt responsible for Minfillia since he got her dad killed and feels guilt over being unable to save her. He's grieved over Minfilia becoming the voice of Hydaelyn and is much less snarky and less of a womaniser as a result, becoming more stoic as a result. There's some actual development there. Except, the subject of his dramas was a cardboard cutout who was more useless than a DVD rewinder (Minfilia), the whole reason for her death was idiotic (the entire Ul'dah conflict in 2.5 that started Heavensward...jesus shit), and interactions with Thancred are mostly just exposition. Thancred is always an observer and never a subject. Urianger is about the only Scion I actually like because there is actual emotional depth there and the subject of his affections wasn't totally incompetent. Alisaie got a lot of focus in the last patch, but her character is so transparently a blatant plot device that it's hard to take seriously. She appears and disappears as needed. She had a good arc during Binding Coil where she defrosts but in 3.4 she goes totally Scion-brand flat. And in 3.4, her whole drama was that she wasn't willing to kill a kobold kid who might be tempered. Our teenaged heroine might have a problem with killing children? Stop the presses, Square Enix! Anyway TL;DR, Heavensward's pacing sucked and negatively impacted the potential growths of all the characters which makes them less compelling and makes the story crap, and I think the Ala Mhigo expansion will suffer from the exact same problem. EDIT: Also, think about this: Moenbryda got introduced in one patch and killed in the next, and she was written way better than most of the Scions, and that was with most of her backstory being delivered via exposition dump. Square Enix can do it, they just choose not to.

I thought Ishgard was super interesting. Or at least, it had the potential to be super interesting. Heavensward writing was a mess. The pacing was shitty and the focus was terrible. I have no hope that Ala Mhigo will be any better in the slightest. I am not on board with the game's fetish for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. I get that they're essentially the "main" characters and the vehicle our characters use to travel all over the place and beat up primals, but the characters are flat and completely uninteresting. I don't care! I want to see Ishgard. I want to delve into a conflicted theocracy undergoing rapid, sudden change. I want to see more of these cool characters, and not the ones I definitively do not give a single shit about. Comparitively to the Scions, Aymeric is cool. Estinien was great. Ysayle was really good. Lucia was interesting. Those fucking Fortemps brats were more compelling as characters and had better character arcs than the Scooby-Doo Gang of the Seventh Dawn bopping around the world and killing primals. The Heavensward writing is flat, but I care more about seeing these characters than I do seeing the Scions. I don't care about Thancred's missing pants. I don't care about Krile functionally replacing Minfillia. I stopped caring about Alphinaud when he had the audacity to tell the Warrior of fucking Light to hand out T-shirts to the Crystal Braves. At no point does the story even attempt to portray that Thordan actually has a good point. People love the status quo and, as a whole, hate change. Pulling the rug out from under them by revealing the war should have caused more mass chaos, more conflict than Aymeric getting stabbed by a fruit knife and one crazy lady on a rooftop getting shot with an arrow. In no setting can you get me to believe that a militant, zealous theocracy centred around the waging of a genocidal war can smoothly transition to a two house democratic republic with no issues. Ala Mhigo has the potential to have a lot of interesting themes and conflict. I just don't trust the writers to actually explore any of that, because who bothers exploring interesting themes and conflict when we can watch Yda be a princess or some shit? Look, Papalymo is hitting someone with Tupsimati! That's interesting, right? No. The Warriors of Darkness were pretty decent, but the conflict with the Ascians should really be a background thing, a sinister undertone that adds to the gravity of the Warrior of Light going around and saving the world. The instant you shove the mysteries in our face--repeatedly--it stops being a mystery and it takes all the proactivity away from our characters. Here's how we handle the Ascians: we sit on our happy asses and wait for them to do something, then react. And maybe we'll save Ishgard on the side if we feel like it. It should be the other way around. We should be proactively going to stop the Dragonsong war as our main motivation. We should be going to liberate Ala Mhigo as our main motivation. I don't think we should be going there with the Scions, waiting for the Ascians, and "Yeah cool the Ascians aren't doing anything, I guess we should liberate Ala Mhigo".

Kasrjin found himself having to constantly shift his weight as Karadwyr's full gallop sent them north. A quick glance behind him found that the second wyvern had broken off, leaving him with only one pursuer. His left hand held the great sword over his shoulder, ready to make a wide swing should the wyvern attempt to swoop close to the ground at him. They barrelled towards the canopy of trees to the north to limit the wyvern's aerial mobility. But the beast wasn't breathing its fire. It was odd. One would think that the wyvern would attempt to scorch its target before the canopies would force it to fly low and with reduced speed. The wyvern, while still snarling and roaring, simply paced behind Kasrjin and his chocobo until they hit the treeline. From then, Kasrjin could hear its wings beating from above the canopy, but otherwise could not see it. Karadwyr continued to gallop right off the trail, leading to considerably rougher terrain that forced the Au Ra to harness his blade and keep both hands on the reins. Why would the wyvern cease its pursuit? The trees limited it, true, but there was still enough room to manoeuvre and fly should it require it. Kasrjin himself was only a single individual and lacked the bows, nets, and lances of Ishgardians. If anything, the wyvern should be overconfident. It should have attacked by now. So why didn't it? He tugged on Karadwyr's reins, slowing the bird to a halt. He could still hear the wyvern prowling above in the sky, but it was holding. Did it mean to drive him here into the forest? Was it herding him into a more favourable location? "Let's find some cover," he rumbled to his bird, rubbing the chocobo's neck and snapping the reins again. Only the most rebellious shafts of sunlight managed to pierce the leafy veil, and every passing second added to the Au Ra's tension. He was not dealing with just an angry beast or a hungry animal. The wyvern was an intelligent hunter. It was waiting for something, but what? They continued onward at a slow pace, Kasrjin keeping his eyes upward to listen for the wyvern. Karadwyr stopped and warbled in fear. A split second afterward, Kasrjin heard what his bird had detected. Something was in the undergrowth. In the trees, as well. They were being stalked by something other than the wyvern. There was a low rumble, like a growl, and the Xaela only barely managed to snap his head towards the growl's source before a mass of orange fur, teeth, and claws had Karadwyr screeching and Kasrjin tumbling off his mount. The bandersnatch roared again, opening its massive maw to reveal several rows of jagged teeth, threatening to tear out his throat in a split second as one of its massive paws pinned itself against his chest. One arm felt struggled to hold the beast's gaping maw, the teeth digging into the metal plates of his gauntlets, while the other reached into his belt and jammed the handle of his dagger into the beast's throat, letting loose a spray of crimson fluid. Kasrjin had aimed the knife upward to stab through the bandersnatch's head through the roof of its mouth, and the feline quickly collapsed. The Au Ra struggled to regain his footing and draw his sword, but he felt the wyvern before he saw it. The Dravanian had spent its time in the air eyeing the canopy for the perfect opening, and was rewarded for its efforts with a fearsome divebomb. The gout of flame came first, scorching the ground that Kasrjin had just barely managed to roll away from. He quickly recovered, drawing the sword from its harness in one smooth motion. The wyvern did not pause in its attack; it landed immediately, snapping its maw at him, its long neck shooting towards the Au Ra like a whip. He only barely managed to catch the beast's teeth with the flat of his blade, but one of the talons on the wyvern's wing made a lunge for him, a blow that was only barely deflected by Kasrjin skillfully re-positioning the handle of his sword above his head. Almost immediately, the wyvern's other wing lashed forward and caught his armour by its shoulder plate. Its maw released his sword as the wing threw the Au Ra some distance with a violent swing. Kasrjin struggled to recover in mid-air, but the heavy armour left him tumbling along the ground and only barely did he manage to land on his knees with one hand holding his body up from the ground. The wyvern's talon had punched a clean dent into the underside of the spaulder, and rather than ascend and wait for another opportunity to strike, the wyvern had lunged forward, hoping to finish what the bandersnatch started before the Au Ra could recover. It snapped with its teeth. It made wide slashes with the talons on its wings. Another well-timed roll sent Kasrjin out of the way of its flames. It's using its attacks to keep me at range. Sharp, emerald eyes quickly examined the flexible wings and long neck. So long as Kasrjin was kept on the back foot, he was at the disadvantage; his sword could not reach the vital areas of the wyvern's body and was too unwieldy to match the speed with which the wyvern manoeuvred its head. Kasrjin found himself running out of room; his back was to a river, and he would not be able to cross it without exposing himself to the wyvern. With one hand, he threw the knife in his belt, and with one foot he handily kicked a rock. Both were easily deflected by a wide slap of the wyvern's wings, but though the opening was less than a second, it was all he needed. A swift, straight thrust aimed straight at the wyvern's eye came screaming forward, the metal whistling in the air. Unfortunately, the wyvern managed to manoeuvre its head such that only one of the webbed, ear-like appendages was severed. It roared in pain and fury and let loose another long torrent of flame, forcing Kasrjin to tumble into the river bank for cover. From above, the Dravanian breathed more fire, keeping its head pulled back towards its body as it made jabs and slashes at him with its claws and talons. Kasrjin swiftly ran to the opposite bank, his arm straining with effort as he pulled himself up as fast as possible before another blazing torrent scorched the rocks where he had just been. He had to get in closer. His lungs burned, his muscles were tense. The wyvern glared at him, eager to finish this quickly. In some ways, Kasrjin was lucky; if it was merely an animal, it would retreat and wait. But this was an intelligent being, with pride and anger. Too much pride and anger to simply fly away. It offered him the advantage. Both the Xaela and the Wyvern stared at each other, the river between them. The wyvern was standing atop the higher of the two banks. Whoever attempted to cross the threshold first--fire notwithstanding--would lose. Such that it was that Kasrjin took one step back before powerful legs launched him forward into a sprint, his sword held in both hands parallel with his body, the point forward. Another burst of fire came streaming forth, forcing him to make a diagonal leap forward to sidestep it. One of his sabatons rested upon a rock marking the river bank. A launch forward, and Kasrjin leapt into the air. Not nearly as impressive or majestic as the jump of a dragoon--it was a few fulms high at most--but it would be enough. The point of his sword was aimed right at the wyvern's chest, and the momentum of his jump would be enough to guide the sword's thrust such that the blow would be mortal, even with his opponent's height advantage. The wyvern had to make a snap judgment. Rather than press its offensive, it instinctively tried to step back, closing its wings together to protect its torso. The blued steel of the greatsword easily pierced even the thick webbing of the wyvern's wings. A roar. Kasrjin grunted as he forced his weight on the pommel of the blade, driving it inward to the wyvern's ribs. The claws upon its feet slashed at him, trying to reach his innards and scraping against his waistguard, but the creature's own wings stood in the way of its assault. The Au Ra managed to land on the opposite river bank with just barely enough footing for another follow up. With another effort-filled grunt, he pulled the blade across the wing, causing a spout of blood to burst from its wing. Two smooth motions. One to withdraw the sword. One to duck beneath the talon of the wing aiming at his head. Another to thrust forward again. This time, Kasrjin could see his blade bury itself deep in his opponent's chest. The wyvern's maw filled itself with fire but did not expel the gout of flame that should have come. He withdrew the sword again, and with a shout and a mighty swing, the blade soared upward to cleanly sever the creature's neck. The head dropped onto the grass with a thunk as the creature's body collapsed. Kasrjin was breathing hard. Every part of him was sore. His armour jingled as he collapsed to one knee, the sword falling to the ground. A decapitation was sufficient such that he didn't need to make sure it was dead. The Au Ra patted himself to check for wounds. Besides cuts and bruises and damage to his armour, he was mostly unharmed. He breathed deep, catching his breath. The adrenaline continued to pump through him and his own heartbeat was pounding in his mind. He did not envy the Ishgardians one bit in that moment.

A calm before the storm. -- Alaqu Aljai's eyes glowed as she stared at the tablet in her hands. It was a small, rough piece of limestone, easily scratched with any hard stone. Carved upon its smooth surface were a series of glowing runes, whose bountiful luminescence reflected themselves in the Xaela's crimson eyes as she absorbed the information the runes projected. Finally and with a sigh, she blinked to clear away the thoughts and unease away from her mind; neither went away carefully. One hundred. That was the time limit that Tsanai set. Within one hundred suns, those they had gathered would have to be trained and sent to the western continent in vessels across the northern sea, going around Othard to reach the west. The journey itself was, at minimum, another one hundred suns. It wasn't the distance that bothered her as much as it was the logistics. Schedules had to be set for rigorous training and orientation, supplies had to be gathered, to say nothing of the prodigious amount of lumber--relative to how much lumber was usually available on a glacier--that would be required to construct vessels to hold personnel and supplies. And that wasn't it. All of this had to be done covertly, underneath the gaze of the Tsenkhai and the other Aljai. Tsanai was especially strict on that notion, and though Alaqu didn't know the greater context, she was inclined to agree: resources were strictly controlled to provide the greatest efficiency and benefit to the majority, and so something like this would be at best forced to cease and at worse... She waved a hand through her flame-coloured bob in exasperation. The true irony was that this kind of undertaking could only really be accomplished so long as the cooperating korums were in physical contact with one another, but all of the korums having been gathered together for the Communion presented their biggest obstacle. They somehow had to send fourteen individuals across the sea. Numbers upon numbers piled themselves inside her head. The number of foodstuffs required to create the number of meals over sea, the number of days those meals had to last, the amount of space in the vessels required to hold those meals, possibly for multiple people. The kinds of materials that would need to be secured in order to construct ocean-faring vessels and the supplies, the people who could be trusted to train these fourteen individuals in varying techniques and arts outside of their assigned role... "Are you present, Alaqu?" A familiar voice called from outside the Aljai's yurt, startling her from her reverie. "Y-yes, one moment," Alaqu said shakily, dashing to a stand from her cot to hastily clear the myriad of randomly piled tablets into semi-organised corners. It would be hardly becoming for her to be seen as a disorganised slob when she was trusted with managing the korum's resources down to the very last nail. She didn't need to see Erdeni to perceive her impatient motions; the craftswoman's mood followed a very specific cycle. First she folded her arms, then she began waving her tail, then tapping her foot, shifting her weight, growling under her breath, and then-- Erdeni slapped the tent's opening flap away, stepping inside with her characteristically blunt demeanour. "How fared the meeting?" Alaqu was halfway through shoving another handful of small tablets into a sack, frozen like a tiger cub before a hunter, before the Aljai sighed and sat on her cot, chin resting in her hands. "About as well as could be expected. Arlihl and Albei agreed to lend their aid, although Albei only wants to do it to stick it to the Tsenkhai, the old bat. Aysun, Amal, and Asha are only willing to lend token assistance in the form of some resources. Just some old foodstuffs and maybe a weapon or two; certainly not any lumber." The craftswoman had her arms folded, severely glancing around the yurt. Alaqu could only sigh. "I would appreciate it if but for a minute you would not judge the organisation of my lodgings." "I do not know how you even manage to make your way outside," Erdeni confessed, though the barest hint of a light smile tinged her lips. "That is better than nothing, at least. As for myself, Ersugen was easy to cow into helping. Erbei and Etugan owe me favours, so they will do what they can for us." "You let Ersugen think he could produce a greater volume than you? That is unlike you," Alaqu leaned her head against one hand, the other shuffling with the folds of her robes near her knee as she sat on her cot. "I will have to do more than let him think he can produce greater volume," Erdeni snapped with a scowl, though Alaqu seemed more amused by the artisan's expression than anything. "Ersugen is a great dolt, but his metalwork is...acceptable. At the least, I don't think nails and pegs will be a problem should he maintain sufficient supply." Erdeni paused. "Tell no one I said that." "Then that is at least one less problem to worry about," Alaqu let out another great sigh, rubbing her eyes and horns in succession as Erdeni unceremoniously shoved a pile of tablets to one corner with her foot as to make room on the ground to sit. "And to think, you could have been Aljai," Alaqu teased. "I don't think you'd have had a problem at all with shouting Albei down." "And you could have been Erdegai if you had but a minute of patience. Your hair will change colour ere long at the rate you stay at." Both women gave a small laugh before falling silent. The wind outside had begun to pick up. The open tent flap began to ripple lightly, occasionally letting in the errant flake of snow. "I still contemplate that, if you wish to know," Erdeni said after a long silence. "It is...difficult to assist you from my current role. I can make you a delightful hauberk or pouch, and little else. You have...what is that phrase Kaizhan used? 'A lot on your plate'. You would think our korum has no other Aljai if that mighty list you rattled off to me is any indication." The artisan glanced at her delicate hands, lightly callused from the skilled manipulation of hand tools. Alaqu let loose a wistful smile before laying down flat on her cot, staring at the stretched hide ceiling of the yurt, thoughtfully tapping the obsidian ornaments around her neck. "To tell the truth, I do not give them enough credit. For every problem I feel overwhelmed by, there are ten or twenty that they juggle. It is not a forgiving role. You should not feel so troubled, though. It is not as if the life of an artisan is any easier." Mirroring Erdeni's gesture, Alaqu glanced at her own hands that were soft and smooth--strangers to hard labour. "I think things worked out well with what we became, in the end. I could never be an artisan, especially not with you overshadowing me. Your kites were always bigger, brighter, and flew higher than mine. I don't think attempting to upset that natural order would have been good to me." Erdeni allowed herself a small smile. "Your appeal to my ego is duly noted, but I will allow that your kites were far better at crashing than mine were." "This is what I am referring to," Alaqu said with a deep frown. "You are far too competitive to allow me some dignity, so at least as an Aljai, I take silent satisfaction in knowing that you would be buried under my responsibilities." "I do not doubt that for a second," Erdeni said lightly. "But I would be buried under your responsibilities with the satisfaction that I make the best kites." A small silence fell between them. "Not much time for flying kites any more, is there?" the Aljai said wistfully. "I miss that. Sneaking off to look at the northern lights, daring one another to approach the ice. Collecting stones, too! Although," Alaqu paused as she turned her head to glare at Erdeni in an expression of mock annoyance. "I still don't know why you had to use my stone collection to practise making your arrowheads, especially when you had your own!" Erdeni shrugged again, an amused twinkle in her eye. "You always managed to find shinier stones. An artisan uses the best materials available." "My favourite turquoise, even," Alaqu pouted. "I was going to show it to Albei!" "Surely she would have simply yelled at you for wasting your time searching for stones?" "Or, she would have been impressed beyond belief and no longer yell for the rest of her life. Flowers sprout from her head and she sings a song of peace to all living things." Silence. "...unlikely," both women said in unison before giggling quietly at the image of the old, wizened Au Ra prancing about a sunny field, just because a child had managed to find a shiny rock. "How fare you?", the artisan asked in a tone of uncharacteristic concern, sobering the atmosphere considerably. Alaqu could not help but snort derisively at the question. "I still have to finish the timetable for construction, make arrangements with the Nayantai and Khadai for training...and this is only just for Tsanai's pet project. You cannot even imagine what I have to do outside of adhering to her mad requests. The Yerenai need more herbs, more food, more blankets. Especially more blankets; I think the freeze has made them paranoid. The Jungsai are itching to hunt again. Slaughter season for livestock is approaching so we will need to find a place to dry and store the meat. Kasrjin's latest warband venture has cut down on the number of Khadai. Albei doesn't even think we will be able to venture south this year. It's too unsafe with the beasts and black ones both." Alaqu paused in her complaints to shoot a disapproving glare at Erdeni. "Speaking of duties, don't you have something to do? You typically start frothing at the mouth if you spend half a sun away from your tools." Erdeni had wrapped her hands around her knees, shrugging in response. "I've drawn up my half of the plans for the vessels. I am still waiting on the leathers for the sails; it'll be the only material strong enough to with stand oceanic winds without tearing." The artisan frowned. "And I do not froth. Perhaps in comparison to those far less serious in their duties it may seem that way. Proper Erdegai take their crafts very seriously." "Yes, perhaps all proper Erdegai should be in danger of becoming rabid unless they are making something," the Aljai let out a laugh. Alaqu exhaled and closed her eyes. Moments like this should last forever. It seemed time had stopped. A gentle wind provided a soothing ambience that seemed like it could rock her to sleep. The back of her mind was still pounding away at her myriad of responsibilities, but was quickly silenced. It seemed that this was the first time in ages that Alaqu had been allowed to simply stop and think. Not about the hundreds of problems barraging her every day, but about happy memories, reminiscence, and simpler times. Though, it was not as if she was unhappy. Alaqu knew she took a certain measure of pride in being the leader, the face, even as the youngest Aljai. The castes came to her because she was the only one with the answers, the only one who knew the plan, the one who gave the directions. And the pace meant she was certainly never bored. Still, she could not help but wonder. Would they have had fun working with one another? Would they become competitive? Could she have eventually become Erdeni's rival, rather than a tagalong who liked her leather straps and wooden animals? She felt a jolt and a shiver through her skin as she felt something cold on her forehead. Her eyes flashed open to see Erdeni leaning over her. "I should return. Do not worry about moving the products to the drydocks: I will arrange for that myself. I am no shipwright nor carpenter, but I know who would be the best choice to oversee construction." Erdeni let loose a rare smile before shifting out of the yurt. Alaqu clasped the object that had been placed on her forehead, holding it above her, and she could only smile softly. Shimmering in the light with a seafoam green hue, polished to an incredible shine and tied to a thin string was a piece of turquoise, shaped like a teardrop. Masterfully inscribed on the tail of the teardrop was an image of a kite.

Dark Knights as they are in-game--warriors who use the power of their emotions to draw on magic and wield two-handed swords to punish evildoers--are more or less strictly a product of Ishgardian culture. A Dark Knight is basically Ishgardian Batman, though focused more on straight-out "pay evil unto evil" punishment than justice. Dark Knights don't use void powers. They use their own internal source of aether to fuel the magic they have access to, and the Dark Knight soul crystal channels and focuses their darker emotions to provide form for the spells. If your goal is to be a "magic knight" type of character, then your character will either need a background in a magic class, a Paladin (in which case the magic isn't offensive magic but defensive conjury), or mentored by a Dark Knight.

"An ailment of thought upon which the souls depend." -- The amphitheatre belonged to a civilisation long dead. With every passing year the verdant valley threatened to reclaim more and more of it. Hardy arctic moss had begun to crawl over the crumbling stones that must have once been steps. More and more cracks appeared in the semi-circular benches that formed a perimeter around the worn centre platform. It was not a hidden place--Kasrjin could see it from the mouth of the mountain cave in which he had awoken--but the ever practical Xaela that dwelled in this valley had hardly any use for such a landmark that was so worn in its age. "That loud harpy better have an excellent reason for this," Erdeni muttered underneath her breath. Tsanai had bid the craftswoman to join Kasrjin on his jaunt to the amphitheatre. Her fingers twitched as she walked, restlessly tapping the tools adorning her belts and pouches as if she were imagining her craft being before her in this instant. Kasrjin hid his small smile of amusement; Tsanai must have used quite a prodigious bribe indeed in order to draw Erdeni away from her work during a Communion. He merely patted her shoulder, a gesture that rewarded his hand with a reflexive slap. "I have had quite enough of Tsenkhai meddling," Erdeni gnashed her teeth as the pair sat down. Kasrjin glanced around the amphitheatre, noting the presence of other individuals, most of which he didn't recognise. Jungsai, Yerenai, Erdegai...how long had Tsanai been working on this plan of hers? She had been different since her return from the western continent, but there were close to thirty people here. He raised an eyebrow at his mate's comment. "Have they meddled overmuch?", he queried. Erdeni pinched the scaled bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. "The Communion. Some of the Tsenkhai who had awoken were storming yurt to yurt, asking about the 'forfeiture' this and 'Correspondence' that. What is the point of all of that noise? It is their role to approach these problems; the Tsenkhai should stick to what they do and allow the rest of us to do what we do." "Have they told you what they suspect?" Kasrjin leaned forward, clasping his hands together. His emerald gaze focused sharply with surprise upon seeing Kaizhan take a seat in the amphitheatre as well. "They 'suspect' that someone or something is interfering with the Communion somehow, deliberately or not. Something is not as it should be. I suspect that that is why they are so aggressive in regards to your history as Tsuven, as well." Erdeni flexed her fingers to and fro, her agitation practically tangible. Something interfering with the Communion. Was that even possible? The Tsenkhai would certainly know if there was precedent, and the fact that they were as riled as they were proved that there was not an advisable course of action to refer to. A part of Kasrjin was tempted to let out a sigh when he saw Tsanai step forward onto the centre platform, her azure robes fluttering in a light breeze. Startlingly, Alaqu was accompanying the Tsenkhai as well; she brushed crimson hair from her face as her fingers gestured towards each individual, counting the number of people present. The remaining chatter among those gathered fell silent, and all attention was on the Tsenkhai that had called them here. "I suspect that Kaarad-El is...ill. Perhaps dying, if such a term can be applied," Tsanai began, folding her arms into the wide sleeves of her robe. She did not have to speak overly loud--something about the amphitheatre, perhaps the construction, seemed to amplify her voice such that even Kasrjin and Erdeni sitting towards the back of the theatre could hear each word clearly and distinctly. "It is time to consider our people's reliance on the Correspondence. For generations, the Correspondence and the Tsenkhai have allowed us to conquer anything. This age may be at an end." That shocked them to attention. Erdeni's fingers had stopped moving. "What is your evidence?" rang a voice from the crowd. "The interpretations have become increasingly difficult. We expected this trend to stop an entire cycle ago. It has not, and the problem has worsened. The Correspondence arrives less frequently, less clearly, with less information," Tsanai asserted. Alaqu coughed and stepped forward, runestone in hand. "Losses to the black ones have been greater. The korums collectively lost many individuals to the freeze. Hunts are plentiful now, but the Jungsai have had greater difficulty in their tracking," the Aljai said. The frustration was clear upon her face, her brows wrinkling in consternation. "One of these circumstances happening is not overly important, but a collective drop in efficiency across all korums points to the only common point all korums possess--the Forfeiture, and our connection to Kaarad-El and the Tsenkhai." Murmurs fell over the gathered Xaela. Kasrjin's frown deepened. At the very least, he could personally corroborate that the intelligence regarding the black ones had become more faulty. They were winning, yes, but each battle had come closer to a pyrrhic victory. With their magitek reapers and fire lances, the black ones held a tactical advantage in all situations. Where the Khadai won was in the strategic information fed to them by Kaarad-El; his warband was always one step ahead, one ambush ahead, and could wittle away the great beast of the black ones until naught remained. But they were encroaching closer and closer. If the current trend continued as it was, it would only be a matter of time until the black ones managed to discover the full extent of the tribe's operations. And what would they do then? If they found their numbers, what they were capable of...would that warrant a full invasion of the tundra to stamp out what resistance remained in Othard? "You have been gathered here to prepare. Several cycles ago, the the korums had made a proposal to make for the western continent," Tsanai. "A proposal that the Aljai continue to wholeheartedly resist due to the logistics and material requirement," Alaqu interjected, snapping a glare at the Tsenkhai which was flatly ignored. "I have been to this land once before. I believe that this land holds the answers to our questions. If the knowledge there cannot solve the riddle of Kaarad-El's reluctance, then at the least, we will know if such a location will hold a viable future for our people." "Who else knows?" Erdeni called out, a deep scowl marring her face. "The Tsenkhai? The korums? That proposal was a thought experiment, nothing more. You cannot call so many Erdegai away to build boats and vessels for a wager. Are the korums united on this?" Alaqu shook her head. "The Aljai that I had spoken to are reluctant to allow their korums' efficiency to drop further. Those we have gathered here...those who were willing to gather here will be all who are privy." Erdeni snorted derisively, glancing among the crowd. "Vessels for a journey to the western continent. And you have but a handful of Erdegai. These vessels will have to brave arctic waters. Navigation, supplies, shelter. It must cut through storms." "None of that will be necessary but the vessels themselves," Tsanai snapped, her moccasins beginning to tap on the centrepiece. Kasrjin instinctively glanced away from what was sure to be another vehement argument between those two. "The Correspondence will grant shelter to these vessels. They will seek the beacon I placed on the west's shores." "You have no way of knowing that. This is a journey of what must be at least one hundred suns," Erdeni argued, standing up. "This risk is too great, with nothing to gain!" "We lose everything if we are not at least willing to try!" Tsanai flared. "I cannot control the other Tsenkhai. Kaarad-El's behaviour...it frightens them. Who knows what they will attempt to do to repair it? We do not know if we can even reach the western continent as we are. But I know what will happen if they do not find the answer they seek." She began to pace, her robes bristling with anger. "The Tsenkhai retreat further and further into Kaarad-El. The number of individuals failing to awaken from Communion increases with every passing day. Without Kaarad-El, our people have nothing! Not our system, not our prosperity, none of the things that separate us from those savage southerners, and the Tsenkhai know this. They will be willing to do anything that is required to preserve it...and so must we." Kasrjin's gaze was fixed squarely on Tsanai now. She was almost shivering. Her lips trembled. She paced to and fro. The sleeves of her robes fluttered lightly with the motion of what must have been her hands clasping her arms. The realisation hit him hard, causing his stomach to drop. Tsanai was....afraid. Something she had seen in Kaarad-El had spurred her into this. Either something about the black granite temple itself, or something that the rest of the Tsenkhai were doing. The gravity of this situation must have been incredibly dire. Nothing had fazed Tsanai before. Not the arrival of the black ones, not the freeze, not even...not even Kasrjin's own forfeiture. The feeling his warband felt when Kaarad-El tugged at their souls, the feeling that something was wrong--not just incorrect, but horribly, innately wrong--was recalled to his memory, causing a visual shudder of chills to ring through his body. In the wake of her outburst, all discussion had ceased. Tsanai breathed deeply. "We will send what we can to the western continent. They must seek a solution to this. We must find a solution to this." "Who will go?" a male voice rumbled from the front. "Anyone. Everyone. Whoever we can afford to send. Nayantai. Jungsai. Khadai." Her gaze--almost a glare--flashed toward Kasrjin with frightening intent. "The Mahalai and Aljai will secure supplies. The Erdegai must construct sturdy vessels and supplies. In the mean time, those we intend to send must be trained and taught. Hunting, herbalism, survival, tracking. I will gather every piece of material I can find on the western continent in the mean time. We will not send you unprepared. The essence of our people must go with you so that you may succeed." With that, Tsanai exhaled, nodding to Alaqu before retreating off of the ampitheatre stage. Alaqu, to her credit, managed to visibly resist a tired sigh. "As much as I am loathe to admit it, I have much of the details worked out, and have managed to secure some support from a few other korums. Who we are sending, however... volunteers would make this easier." Erdeni was startled by a sudden movement, as Kasrjin was the first among them to stand.

I understand that line of thinking, but unless I missed some dialogue, I think Aymeric honestly forgot about the Eyes of Nidhogg. It'd have been much more consistent and forgiveable if at least after the fact and after Estinien is saved, he says something along the lines of "We really shouldn't have thrown the Eyes of Nidhogg away so that anyone can find them", or at least acknowledges that it was a decision that will very definitely come back to bite Eorzea in the ass.

The Eyes of Nidhogg. The fucking eyes. Honestly, what was Aymeric thinking? "Let's throw these incredibly dangerous and powerful items that can regenerate an ancient wyrm full of hate and rage down a pit and just hope nobody ever finds them"? I mean, I get that the immediate reaction was to get them away from Estinien for...reasons, but you witnessed first hand that draconic corruption can make Nidhogg come back! Your first priority should be moving them away from Estinien, and then firing the eyes onto the surface of the sun!

The skies that were clear in the morning had begun to gather in ominous clouds, but tufts of rebellious sunlight still pierced through the canopy above. Kasrjin breathed in the cool air as Karadwyr chirped happily at getting to stretch his legs. The chocobos settled easily onto the dirt path that marked the trail leading out of Tailfeather. The forelands were home to many sights; more than once, he and Roen passed by a set of ruins, their stones crumbling still, having been set by the hands of a previous era. In the distance, a faint and ominous emerald smoke emitted a foreboding glow from atop massive insectoid spires. "Anyx Trine is a location. The Ishgardians claim that heretics constructed it to provide a roost for their dragon masters," Kasrjin responded to his companion's query. From within one of Karadwyr's saddlebags, the Au Ra gingerly undid one of the buckles holding the satchel shut and withdrew a thin, leather-bound volume with one hand. He carefully manoeuvred the volume to open with one hand, while his other hand held tightly onto Karadwyr's reins. "Perhaps you may understand it more. I had been given this information by one who had purchased my services. Its veracity is unknown, but it is a lead. This book describes the history of Ishgard’s conflict with the heretics. Our destination, Anyx Trine, is described as a fortification used by the heretics. The structure was built in collaboration between man and wyrm; wyrm contributed their strength, and man their magics. There lay a description of something...similar to what I am looking for." The road stretched out to the end of the horizon. Perhaps now was an apt time to explain. A glance at the paladin's face revealed a curious gaze, which Kasrjin interpreted as permission to continue. "This land contains a great deal of energy," the Au Ra began. "You refer to this energy as 'aether'. It is a resource that is drawn from the environment, or from within oneself. Othard, too, possesses aether, but..." Kasrjin paused and frowned. This would take a considerably great deal of explaining, on reflection, and he was not fully equipped to do so. Tsanai would be far better at explaining the circumstances...but given her abrasive nature, perhaps her absence was the preferable option. Kasrjin’s frown deepened. He did have Tsuven’s knowledge base, but would that be appropriate to utilize? Again, Tsanai would know, were she here. “In the area where my people roam, we utilize aether in a different form. Within a small area, aether does not...hm, disperse.” It was a force of habit that compelled Kasrjin to leave out details as to where his tribe resided, or where Karaad-El was. A part of him in the back of his mind insisted that such omissions were unnecessary, though that part of him was not sufficient to bring forth such details. Still, describing what he had found and why they were approaching Anyx Trine without directly describing Karaad-El was getting increasingly difficult. “In antiquity, my people worshipped this location as holy ground. Once we outgrew that superstition, we realized how aether was used. Heavy concentrations of aether become crystals here in Eorzea.” As if to demonstrate, Kasrjin waved an idle hand at the top of Tailfeather’s azure aetheryte, its presence just barely detectable above the cliffs that surrounded the settlement. “Where we reside, aether is transformed by our location into an...alphabet?” He was unsure of his description thus far. “This alphabet communicates information to us. We may inscribe the information this alphabet conveys onto stone, and give that information to others. It is a method of communication. This volume of heretics describes certain individuals doing the same.” Gingerly, Kasrjin withdrew his hand from the reins and used it to flip some of the pages of the volume, careful to keep his balance. It would be less than optimal to fall off Karadwyr now. “The heretics used this in order to ease communication between themselves and the dragons, so it claims. If it is indeed the same method that my people use for the Correspondence--aether--then it is possible that what I seek is there. The aether in our location was growing erratic, and unable to be formed into comprehensible information. Our survival depends on our ability to utilize aether.” Kasrjin suddenly ceased speaking: that was one important note of information he should not have revealed. A frown crossed his lips as he fell silent. Roen held quiet for his explanation, presumably contemplating his information before making her query. “So… your people can somehow… communicate with the aether? As if it is a sentient being?” She canted her head. “Is this aether something more than just a form of energy from where you are?” “It is a method of communication,” Kasrjin said somewhat solemnly. “It is not a two-way conversation. We may only receive information; whatever delivers it to us cannot perceive us. Members of the Tsenkhai are selected based on their ability to receive and interpret this information. Without aether, we are unable to receive this information. We are also unable to efficiently transmit this information to other members of the tribe. It is, ultimately, the basis of our organisational structure.” “Just exactly what kind of information do you receive from the aether?” Kasrjin shrugged. “The Tsenkhai receive much, though a great deal of the information is unusable without proper interpretation. It tells us when life is detected around our location; the Tsenkhai interpret this to tell where is good to hunt, or when enemies encroach upon our territories. It can reveal information about our environment; the Tsenkhai can interpret this to predict the seasons. It is with the aether’s information and the Tsenkhai’s interpretation that we survive. We remain one step ahead of all our adversities: the black ones cannot conquer us, the beasts cannot starve us, and the snows cannot overwhelm us.” Roen nodded, her expression thoughtful as the paladin turned her gaze rising towards the road. “So you hope to find some hints as to how the heretics are able to communicate with the dragons, using the aether?” She shook her head, her expression growing more intent. “Even if what is written in that book is true… how do you figure we will gain such secrets from the likes of heretics? They are not known to take outsiders in… unless you are one of their cause. “First, we will verify if the information is true. If the heretics still reside in Anyx Trine, then--” Kasrjin's explanation was interrupted by a booming shriek echoing across the sky. Karadwyr squawked in fear, and a hand instinctively went to the greatsword mounted upon his back, his eyes skyward to look for the threat. A sweep of the horizon revealed nothing....until bursting from the gathering cloud cover came a streak of mottled green. "Karadwyr, vakh!" The Au Ra kicked his heels against the destrier's flank, causing the bird to break out into a fearsome gallop. Another streak of green emerged from the clouds to follow the first. Mouths filled with formidable fangs and flickering flames snapped and hissed, as two wyverns descended from the skies in a fearsome divebomb. Another shriek, one audible in its hatred, resounded from the mouth of the lead. "Sah djahs afah an!" The second wyvern, slightly smaller than the one preceding it, unleashed a potent torrent of fire from its maw, scorching the roads. Kasrjin pulled the sword from its harness. Was the wyvern shouting? Was it speaking a language? He neither knew nor cared. "Scatter!" is all he managed to shout to Roen before Karadwyr burst into a run. The terrain was unfavourable; it was mostly open ground. Several rocky spires pockmarked the horizon, but the wyverns had the advantage in speed and range. They could fly, but if the Au Ra's instincts were correct, the wyverns had attacked with an agenda. This wasn't a hunt borne from hunger, but from animosity. That was good. If that was true, then they could be goaded, tricked, and taunted. The wyverns could be spurred to make mistakes. If his instincts were right. Kasrjin was going to stake his life on that "if". He grunted as he hefted the sword over his shoulder, standing up in the chocobo's stirrups in order to better keep his balance. The saddlebags and harnesses jingled as Karadwyr sprinted forward, and the roar of the wyverns could be heard resounding in the sky.

I really like Supernormal Step! I'm a big fan of the art style.

From a writing perspective: the sooner you get the details about her past life and amnesia worked out, the better. You don't need to finalize every small detail, but having a few important facts set in stone--her age, where she was, etc.--makes coming up with everything else on the fly much easier. Set a few concrete facts about your character to use as a jumping-off point. Beyond that, it looks good for the most part, save for a few details. For future reference, the forests of Gridania are referred to as the Black Shroud (EDIT: Or the Twelveswood. Thanks Jana!) To start with, there are technically two groups of "dragoons". The generic term "dragoon" refers to Ishgardian knights or nobles who are proven to have personally slain at least one dragon. These people are not members of the Order of the Knights Dragoon and do not wear Drachen mail or wield Gae Bolgs. The more specific term refers to members of the Order of the Knights Dragoon, who are representative of in-game Dragoons that wear purple mail, wield Gae Bolgs, and inexplicably jump fifty feet into the air. So it'd be worth differentiating which group your character belongs to. As far as lore-abiding goes, this is sort of thin-ice and requires some heavy justification. To start with, members of the Order of the Knights Dragoon are drawn from the ranks of the Temple Knights, who themselves are drawn from Ishgardian citizens. Non-Elezen and non-Hyur dragoons are exceedingly rare. Non-Ishgardian dragoons are unheard of, with the dragoon being a tradition that is exclusive to Ishgard. Going down this route, you will likely be questioned about it ICly and OOCly from the lore-abiding crowd, which is why the profession requires a well thought-out justification. One of the most common questions given to people who roleplay Jobs as opposed to classes is: what does being the Job do for your character, writing and narrative-wise? For example, why does your character have to be a White Mage instead of a powerful conjurer? Why does your character have to be a Summoner rather than a potent arcanist? Why does your character have to be a Dark Knight rather than someone who's really good at swinging big swords? And in your case, why does your character need to be an Ishgardian dragoon rather than a simple lancer (who may or may not have slain a dragon without any of the fancy Jump abilities)? Is she particularly inspired? Is she actually Ishgardian? Does she have a reason to make becoming an Ishgardian dragoon a goal? Besides that, the back story looks totally workable and fine.

You'd need a direct source of Alexander's aether for that, regardless of whether the primal is alive or dead. Bahamut left his aether all over Carteneau from his Megaflare, for example, which is where Dreadwyrm Trance comes from. I admit I haven't read the quest text for Alexander too closely (Mide....snoooooore) but I don't think Alexander actually expends or expresses any aether outside of itself. All of its aether would have to be sourced from inside it, either the creatures it generates or residue from its attacks.

In terms of summoning, I think Alexander is a little bit too much of a stretch, given the circumstances you just described. I don't think summoning an Egi of him would be possible without some seriously weird insertions. That said, if you really wanted to stick with the idea then I see no reason why a particularly judicious summoner wouldn't be able to combine arcanima with magitek to build a construct of sorts...bonus points if any of the goblins of Idyllshire managed some kind of salvage or some such (Did they? You think if there was anything they could unscrew they'd have nabbed it). So I think Alexander the Primal is a no-go, off the top of my head. Something artificial made in Alexander's image might be a more workable solution.

Ehh.... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

"Knights," Kasrjin reported somewhat breathlessly as his hands carefully refastened the harness and the saddlebags. "Close to thirty. Not here for us, perhaps, but it is better that we do not risk it." The Xaela moved to the rear end of the stable and lifted up the bar, allowing the back doors of the stable to swing open before returning to guide Karadwyr out. The black destrier warbled slightly in protest to its bridle being tugged on by the Au Ra, but the sooner they got out of the stable, the better it would be. As the paladin and her bird followed, Kasrjin shut the back door and replaced the bar. "War party. Nets, bows, lances. Dragons, maybe. They look to be camping here. We should leave, just in case." If he had to guess, the commanding officer wanted to appropriate the stables for their chocobos. "We are heading to the location known as Anyx Trine. With luck, we will not be harassed on the way there." If Roen had questions, the journey there would be an adequate opportunity to discuss them as well. Kasrjin placed a foot into the stirrup and hoisted himself over Karadwyr's back, quickly--and somewhat nervously, though he did his best not to let it show--checking the status of the saddlebags to make sure none would fall off during their exodus. The sound of the knights beginning to shuffle their birds into the stable was audible as Kasrjin glanced at Roen. "I doubt we will be able to sneak. It would be best if we simply left in a hurry. Follow my lead." With a crack of the reins, Karadwyr let out a cry as the destrier rapidly accelerated from behind the stable and began to make a beeline for the river. There was a gate leading to the northern forelands, and it was much shorter than going around the mountains. Some of the knights seemed startled at the presence of the sudden rampage of the two chocobos tearing out of Tailfeather, but Kasrjin noted that none of them seemed interested past the initial noise. That was good; either they weren't here to pursue them, or he and Roen somehow avoided recognition. The chocobos warbled happily at being able to fully stretch their legs into a full gallop. Their talons made wondrous splashes in the river, though Kasrjin had to duck his head to avoid being clotheslined by the bottom of the river gate's portcullis. After sufficient distance, he tugged on the reins for a few moments before briefly remembering that controlling Karadwyr required the use of his stirrups as well. Karadwyr's gallop slowed to a canter and eventually a comfortable trot as they made their way to the road, and the Xaela finally allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief. If those knights had been sent to pursue them, even he wouldn't know precisely how to act. "Those men seem to have been on a dragon hunt. Do Ishgardians make strikes into Dravania regularly?" Kasrjin had never seen such a large party in Tailfeather during his hunts.

An unwelcome shaft of light snaked its way through the shuttered windows of the stable and blasted itself against his eyelids like a lightning bolt thrown by a particularly vengeful deity. Kasrjin tilted his head to his left to move his eyes out of the sun before blinking unsteadily. He'd never considered the sensation of wakefulness to be a pleasant one, a notion belied by his usually alert appearance. An emerald sheen could be seen as his eyelids fluttered open and his cognisant functions returned. The steel of his sword had chilled considerably during the night, though the hay was surprisingly pliable. He glanced over to Roen to see his companion still resting; she would wake up on her own, he supposed. The Xaela set about affixing his armour back onto his person, doing so as quietly as he could. A part of him winced at the light jingling of the mail hauberk and the occasional clank of the iron sabatons impacting one another, but he managed with little trouble. Kasrjin was just about to set the greatsword in its harness upon his back when the noise from outside the stable caught his attention. Metal. The characteristic warbling of chocobos. There were...commands being shouted. Tailfeather was a hunter's lodge, so some activity was expected, but judging from the amount of noise alone, it must have been some kind of cavalry unit. He glanced at Roen again, whose chest rose and fell gently in rhythm. She was either more exhausted than she let on or a remarkably heavy sleeper. Or perhaps the Au Ra was simply more sensitive to noise. He crept toward the entrance of the stable, careful to keep from moving the door too much--it had a poor habit of creaking on the hinges, which was useful for alerting him to intruders, at the least. The hunters had affixed a simple bar at the front of the stables, but the gap between the doors was sizeable enough for him to reach a hand through and lift the bar if needed. The gap also enabled Kasrjin to spy outside. The position of the sun indicated that it was but a few bells after dawn, with the blazing light just beginning to crest itself over the mountainous terrain of Dravania. Assembled in the common yard of Tailfeather were a group of Ishgardian knights and their mounts. Kasrjin nodded to himself. Nine...twenty...thirty? It was a sizeable force, comparable to a warband. The men and their birds both were lightly armoured, which meant that whatever endeavour they were engaged on required speed. Pursuers? No, it was unlikely that whatever authority intended to harass them in the city would commit so many men to two individuals. Kasrjin leaned against the door to expand the gap, allowing him to observe more of the knights and their mounts. Some of the chocobos had some kind of rope lattice attached to the saddlebags. Nets? The men were all armed with bows and lances. Some dried blood could be seen caked on their faces. One man stood in a knight's uniform of plate armour, directing the men's efforts to something Kasrjin couldn't quite see. Judging from their state, they were returning from...something. A battle? The armoured knight suddenly made a jabbing pointing motion at the stable. Kasrjin quickly retreated as silently as he could, making his way into the stable where they had spent the night and shaking Roen rather violently. "We must leave," he urged. The Xaela moved to the opposite side of the stable and began checking the birds. Karadwyr warbled in annoyed agitation as the saddlebags were affixed to the destrier again. They were here for something, but if it was them, he would rather not give them something to find.

The ride had been rather arduous--the Xaela had never mounted an animal before, and found himself in a constant state of discomfort and unease at the motion of the black-feathered destrier--but the weather had thankfully been clear enough that they'd been able to make a full day's ride to Tailfeather with little incident. The hunters were amiable enough, having grown somewhat used to Kasrjin's hunts bringing him to their gates, and a quick exchange of coin allowed the use of their stables to store his bird. The sun was just about to dip beneath the mountains, leaving less than a bell before nightfall. Kasrjin's relationship with his chocobo seemed to have ameliorated since the last time he had interacted with the animal like this; Karadwyr shuffled about noticeably less as he checked and re-checked the fastenings of the saddlebags that held his provisions. The chocobo was a massive black destrier meant to carry a fully-armoured knight into battle, so at the least he did not need to worry overmuch about a weight limit. The bird chirped what Kasrjin interpreted as solemn approval as he loosened the straps somewhat, running a hand between the soot-coloured feathers and the faded brown leather of the bags. He hesitated to begin removing the straps and armour of the bird out of a silent fear that he would not be able to re-affix them back onto the chocobo once they had been removed. Karadwyr helpfully warbled in a small protest of discomfort but otherwise, well-trained as it was, it merely poked at the ground with its talons, the buckles of the straps jingling lightly. He traced his hand very carefully along the straps and fastenings before deciding that he was at least confident enough in his ability to remove Karadwyr's armoured helmet. Karadwyr chirped appreciatively at having been freed from at least the confines of the war helmet, and complied rather easily when the Au Ra shuffled him off into the stables to rest. There was a telltale jingle of armour and footsteps that continually surprised him in how light they were. Without turning, he could hear the slight clank her gauntlets made whenever she folded her arms together. Kasrjin glanced towards the stables, peering at Roen from the corner of his eye. "Have you sought lodging? The stables are shelter enough for myself." Kasrjin saw her brows arch and her face crease in combined consternation and curiosity. "Stables? Why not stay at the inn?" The Xaela was taken aback by her statement, though he was careful not to show it. Roen was not the same caliber of outdoorsman as he was; it was unlikely that she ventured this far from Ishgard very often. Civilised places had civilised functions, but wild frontiers like Tailfeather had little use or reason for such luxuries. "...the only residence I could spy is the hunter's lodge," he responded somberly. Roen pursed her lips. "You do not wish to stay indoors?" The paladin stepped towards him, her gaze scanning each building. "I have managed outdoors before, but only when there was no other option..." "I do not seek to impose," Kasrjin grunted as he pushed open the stable windows, allowing the curious black-feathered chocobo to poke its head out and warble. "I am not even sure if there are residences for travellers to stay. The only available housing belongs to the hunters. Caravans often stay with their wagons." "Stables it is...I suppose..." Roen muttered. The Xaela wasn't looking at her, but he could tell from her frown that she was disappointed and apprehensive at staying in a stable. "At the least, there is no danger of freezing." He tilted his head at her. Was she not going to seek proper lodging? "I asked because I assume that you had sought shelter indoors. You need not subject yourself to the same conditions as myself." Roen glanced towards the stables again before letting out a sharp exhale through her nose. "I can make do in the stables." She sounded a bit prideful--unusual. "After all, who knows if we will see lodging once we head further into Dravania. I might as well get used to the conditions." The paladin gave a firm nod, though it seemed to be more for herself than for the Au Ra. "I learned how to weather the cold in Coerthas. I am sure I will survive a night or two in the stables." He shrugged in response. "As you say." Kasrjin stepped inside the stables. The last gleaming beam of sunset crested over the mountains of Dravania, indicating that nightfall would be upon them soon. He found an empty stable and closed the loose windows, settling down near an empty loft where the hay and straw laid out for the birds was almost impeccably clean. He lay his sword across his chest and leaned back against the hard wood wall, stealing some straw for himself to place beneath the small of his back before closing his eyes. Roen followed him into the stables, although her steps were audibly uncertain. Another long exhale was released just before she rounded the corner to enter the stables. She watched him from the corner of her eyes before gathering some hay to arrange into something resembling a cushion. "You are unused to living outdoors?" Kasrjin asked, his eyes still closed shut. "Hm?" Roen sounded distracted as she arranged the hay, the shuffling of the straws sounding rather noisy in the confined stable. "Ah. Well...um. ...No. I Suppose not. I suppose I have always been used to some lodging. I have slept on a bedroll and in a tent... but not often." One of his eyelids peered open at her in mild surprise. "You did not bring one?" Her frown was almost audible. "I have one!" Roen gestured to the saddle she had brought in with her. "I am just trying to see if this stack of hay would be a soft base." Her voice sounded a bit unnerved. "I have never slept in a stable before. What do you do with this hay? Do you use it as bedding?" "As a cushion, at most," Kasrjin responded. "Many Au Ra do not sleep on their back or sides." As if to demonstrate, he lightly tapped the tapered, sharp horns affixed to the side of his head. "I imagine you evenly distribute it before laying your bedroll upon it." His eyes were open and he glanced at her. Roen blinked eyes wide, turning in her seat to inspect him. "You... do not lay down to sleep...?" She stared at him for a moment longer, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes to study his horns. "It depends on the horns. There are some Au Ra who cannot sleep on their sides. Comfort does matter." "So you learned to find... that position... comfortable?" Kasrjin nodded. "It is workable, yes. It also allows me to respond quickly to threats." Roen stared at him for a moment longer before self-consciously beginning to rearrange the hay, standing to retrieve her bedroll from the corner. She snorted at his response as she began to unwind the bedroll, not looking at him. "Practical.. but such vigilance does not make for restful sleep I would imagine." "One learns to adjust," the Xaela said. "The beasts and the black ones both do not take particularly merciful stances to those they catch unawares." He heard the clanking as Roen began to undo her gauntlets, tugging them off her arm. "Were you always so vigilant, even when sleeping amongst your people? I would imagine there would be some occasions where you could just... not be ready to fight. At least for a bit." "Our role demands it," Kasrjin said matter-of-factly. "It is possible to have restful sleep and be alert simultaneously. Even when the....groups came together, I would imagine most Khadai would remain vigilant." Roen's mouth curled into a frown. "Such a burden on those chosen to be Khadai." She turned back to arranging her bedding, working to unclasp her spaulder, beginning to fluff her bed. "If you could choose another role, what would it be?" He paused before answering. "...whatever the Tsenkhai determined would be optimal for me." Tsuven Tsenkhai was in a different role, but Kasrjin could not even begin to explain the...disassociation he felt from his previous role. Roen turned in her seat again, this time to sit on the top of her bedroll as if to test out its thickness atop the straws. She gave a lopsided grin at Khadai. "Oh, just humour me. What job would you imagine for yourself? If say... you were to choose as a Tsenkhai." He pursed his lips in thought. "...I do not know. It is not something I have ever thought about." Kasrjin could not begin to imagine such. To determine one's own role, to attempt to judge one's own capabilities with regard only to wants? This was how people in this land determined things. It sounded like utter chaos. "Personal inclinations are considered, but such as it is, people do not know what they want to do until they have already done it. They cannot be relied upon to make such a judgment themselves. That is why it is--and should be--for others to decide." "Well then," Roen said, putting her hands on her lap. "Perhaps then this is your opportunity to...do a lot of things. And see if it is something you want to do." "I do not quite understand your meaning." "You said it yourself, people do not know what they want to do until you do it. I have seen you fish, and work with leather, and hunt. Do you not take enjoyment in any of those things?" Kasrjin frowned. "Those are...chores. They serve a purpose." Roen rolled her shoulders. "People do fish, for fun. Why I have done it myself." A small smile tugged at her lips. He did enjoy fishing. The Jungsai were loathe to bring one outside of their caste, but those moments were...enjoyable at times. "...I can see the appeal." His admission was quiet. "But all that I do has a purpose in it. I have yet to do any of these things for the sake of implicit enjoyment." "...Have you ever thought to?" She regarded him curiously. "To do something just for the sake of enjoyment?" "I have not. I am sure there are some among my people who have. But I have not." Roen began to undo her belt, setting the metal plating that fell around her waist and hips aside. She set it aside along with her shield and sword. "Why not?" She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. "Your people must know that enjoyment can replenish the spirit and the mind." He frowned. "There are games of chance. War simulations. These things can be enjoyed, but as with all things, they are done with a purpose in mind." The last thing she slid off where those boots, just the heavy metals were set aside to allow her to slide into her bedding unencumbered. "You can still enjoy those things, whether they had purpose or not." "And I have. But they were not done solely for enjoyment's own sake." "Ah!" Her eyes lit up and she held up a finger. "So what activities did you enjoy then?" Kasrjin rubbed his jaw. "Fishing can be relaxing....although frustrating if the yield is low. Some of our war games can be amusing if the snow is not too deep. The Khadai, Jungsai, and Nayantai often compete in athletic contests." "Contests" was a bit of a generous word for it. The Nayantai always won the races. The Jungsai always won hunts. The Khadai always won the sparring. Still, there was some amusement to be had, even as the result was pre-determined by their capabilities. "Hmm," she hummed, her gaze softening. She watched him for a moment longer before she slid further into her bedroll. It was after she shifted a few times over the hay, before she turned on her side to look back at the Au Ra. "Do you miss them?" Her question was quietly asked, a soft murmured thing. "...perhaps what they represented," he responded equally softly, though he did not elaborate. She narrowed her eyes in thought, as if waiting for him to elabourate. When such an elaboration failed to make an appearance, she just peered up at him for a moment longer. "I hope... I hope this gets you a step closer to finding what you are looking for." Roen let out a sigh, and her voice lowered even further. Perhaps she was getting sleepy, it had been a long ride, or perhaps she had grown somber for another reason. "Then you would be able to return to your people..." Her eyes grew half lidded. She turned in her bedroll to face the other side of the room. He glanced at her, but did not say anything, merely watching until her chest began to rise and fall with rhythmic breathing, before facing forward and closing his eyes himself.

I'd imagine there's no real cultural conventions and any naming conventions that Allag had would be based on their language, not their culture. They were spread across Eorzea and even beyond Aldenard, which may be the justification for the mishmash of names they have drawn from Final Fantasy III.

bwC-WHc8TZc I prefer the DDR remix over the original but can't find the source for the track anywhere.