Miryn

Please don't make me tank the dolls. @_@ I'm really enjoying the new music tracks, though.

I've been holding onto my eso tomes and still have leftover manifestos, so I can grab a full set of Vit jewelry right now. Also, yay for PLD adjustments! I do miss tanking with my sword and board. I wonder if there are going to be changes to Living Dead as well? With every tank investing in Vit now... I mean, healing up a 21k health DRK is an extra 1-2 GCDs over a 15k one, unless you have Bene at the ready. That can mean the difference between the tank surviving or eating the floor. Not to mention if I'm getting that many heals poured into me over such a short duration I feel like I did something horribly wrong...

There is a part of me that actually misses running 24-mans. Yes, even with the constant yelling at each other, long and annoying macros in alliance chat, tanks fighting for hate on the boss while ignoring the adds eating the healers and dps. Mostly I just want to run something with friends that isn't Expert roulette. And gearing up my alts with something besides rusty Gordian gear would be nice.

I fell out of the habit of marking when Speedflox runs became the norm. These days I pretty much only mark to call attention to something that needs to die ASAP, like Sable Price, and if DPS are on different mobs I just hold both of them. I'd definitely like to see the AIN bonus for Leveling Roulette improved. All my tanks are 60 so I've been using it to level my dps and healers, but once I'm done with those, at least some kind of Eso reward would encourage me to keep queuing for Leveling Roulette instead of ignoring it.

I find that the trick to popping long queues is to either craft something expensive or fly out to the middle of nowhere with the intention of hitting an unspoiled node.

He found the young heiress in the garden, sat by the pond with a book in her lap. The air was warm with springtime and Marcus Lecuyer breathed in the heavy scent of flowers as he approached his charge, regretting that the rattle of his mail disturbed the quiet. "Lady Emmalie, your father wished to speak to- Is something the matter?" The frown that graced Emmalie's face as she turned to him was possibly the longest Marcus had ever seen. "Oh, hello. It's nothing, I just..." She paused to fiddle with a curl of dark hair, "I was thinking... You've served by my side for three years now, and I consider you as close as a brother..." She let her hand drop and her expression turned pitiful. "I... I need your advice." Pride and duty swelled within him and Marcus straightened, one hand planting decisively onto the hilt of the sword at his hip. "Of course, my lady. What is it?" Emmalie nodded. She chewed her lip. "The newest squires; there's a red-haired lad among them with a hint of the Brume in his accent. You know the one?" "Reynaud?" Marcus pulled an image of the boy into his mind. He was loud, overly friendly, and had once been accused of stealing a Sohm Al tart from the kitchens but there had been no hard evidence. "What of him?" "We ran into each other yesterday by the fountain. I think he was trying to sneak extra rolls back to the other squires," Marcus bristled, though Emmalie didn't notice, "but he didn't count on running into me. He..." Her frown deepened further and Marcus's mouth twisted itself to match. "Was he disrespectful? He dared speak against-" "No! Nothing like that, he was actually very kind, and I... I just... Marcus, I think I fancy him!" Her declaration stretched into a silence that filled Marcus with cold, iron dread. He blinked. "You what?" he managed to squeeze out. "I'm in love!" The knight's lack of comprehension seemed to stir Emmalie to great passion. "He's just so charming, and funny, and I... I need your advice on how to talk to him. How to get him to return my feelings! You're a man, surely you know what men want from women. What can I offer him?" The chill spread from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Marcus suddenly felt he'd rather be fighting a dozen wyverns single-handedly than having this conversation. "I, uh, don't know that I'm qualified to-" Emmalie clapped her hands together with such vigor that Marcus jumped. "I know! You're fond of the fig jelly from Jacobus's shop, yes? I'll buy some and give it to him; he'll love it!" Beaming, the young woman wrapped Marcus in a quick hug before she scurried off. She was out of earshot before he found his voice. Instead, he sighed and picked up the tome she'd left behind. The 10 Pillars of Romance was scrawled in golden ink across the cover. "Perhaps a sister would've kept Lady Emmalie better company than me..."

Miryn gladly relinquished the fishing pole. The moment it was free of her hand, she stumbled back and onto her rear, hissing under her breath. 'No strenuous activity', the chirurgeon had said. What a fine, relaxing walk this turned out to be; her leg felt like it was on fire. Whatever was on the other end of the line seemed to be putting up a valiant struggle. Miryn cradled her leg and watched Reina fight its pull. Idly, she wondered if she still had enough strength left to grab hold of the other woman if she overbalanced as well. Catfish? So it was. Despite herself, the man's enthusiasm brought a smile to Miryn's face and she gave him a congratulatory salute. "I don't know that I did anything, except perhaps nearly scare your quarry away. I do apologize for that. My name is Miryn." Her smile broadened as she turned to Reina and nodded. "Thank you for your help, truly."

If anything good could be said about Miryn's tumble, it was that her embarassment over the spectacle had done a swell job of masking the pain of her injured leg. Reina's jest brought her attention back to it however, and she frowned as the wound throbbed anew. The other woman was right - about the leg needing tending, not Miryn ending up anyone's dinner - but for the moment she was more concerned about the fisher-singer in the water. "It can wait, the lad seems to need-" Out of reflex, Miryn took the rod from Laike before she fully registered what accepting it meant. The sudden lurch nearly took her off her feet again and she dug her heels into the bank, wincing as she put unwelcome pressure on her leg. "-help!" Halone's fury, what did he catch?

Miryn spat and swiped her hand across her face. Her clothes were soaked to her chest, her leg throbbed, and red spots were blossoming through the bandages. At least the water was mostly clean, it seemed? It certainly tasted fine. Any worries about possible infection fled her mind though, when a blonde hyuran woman voiced her concern. Miryn winced, more from shame that someone had watched her take such an embarrassing tumble than from any actual pain. She wiped her face again and sent the woman an apologetic look. "Sorry, I'm fine. I-" Another splash from down the bank cut Miryn short - the singing man. The fishing man? Only now did she notice the fishing pole and Miryn sighed at herself. The peaceful calm of morning shattered by a clumsy elezen. This was not the best start of days. Moving carefully so as not to aggravate her leg - or take a second spill - Miryn got back onto her feet and offered the man her hand in case he needed help. "Sorry," she said again. Her good eye flicked to the twitching pole. "Er, you seem to have a bite."

Miryn strolled along the broken path, mindful of protruding stones made slick by the water. Dressed simply in cotton and leathers, though she was a guest of the springs, she couldn't help keeping a small dagger sheathed at her hip. She'd heard beastmen lived nearby and could become rowdy at times. Better safe than sorry. She'd come via recommendation of a friend after her most recent excursion left her with a nasty leg injury, courtesy of a bandit and his axe. Though Miryn was no stranger to places of healing, Camp Bronze Lake was nothing like she'd encountered before. The springs and wine were amazing, just as soothing for the body as the scenery was for the soul. Her friend would not arrive for a couple hours yet, so Miryn took it upon herself to enjoy the springs' other wonders. The lake was glorious to behold in the dawn light and she paused in her walk to drink it in. It was then that she caught a faint verse of song drifting from somewhere nearby. Miryn turned to find its source and sighted a man-shaped lump seated upon the bank. As she leaned in for a better look, pain suddenly lanced through her wounded leg and she slipped on the rocks. Miryn's hiss morphed into a gasp as she fell into the water with a loud splash.

The DRK swords at least are sold in the bar area of the Forgotten Knight. And he had a lvl 60 NIN. If he'd been trying I would've gone a little easier on him. But blaming other people first before looking at what he could've done better irritated the living hell out of me.

The queue times though. ; ;

Met my first Dork Knight while leveling BRD in Sohm Al. Dude had the Moogle sword equipped. That's a i75 weapon. I have the upgraded Ironworks bow. That's i130. There's a 55 ilvl difference between our weapons. I asked him if he had a better sword and he said nope. Okay, then. I ended up tanking at least one mob each pull because he couldn't hold everything and if I didn't have it, then it would be eating our healer. Sometimes the MNK had a mob too. If he'd at least put up Darkside maybe it would've been a bit better, but then again his MP bar was almost always full so perhaps not. I also ended up peeling hate on every boss. With Quelling Strikes. On one of our final boss attempts, he died and had the gall to blame the healer for "being slow". Buddy, if you just got an up-to-date weapon you'd have like 40 more Vitality. Why. I just don't understand how someone gets this far on a Moogle weapon and think everything is hunky dory. The vendors in Ishgard sell i115 white weapons, even one of those would've been better. Aaargh.

Neither Miryn nor I are particularly sociable people. Assuming I worked up the courage to talk to her, I'd try to get her into watching documentaries or maybe some historical fiction shows. Then again, she'd probably just kill me for writing out her background the way it is. Like, straight up murder.

If a tithe and a prayer weren't enough for the Twelve, then that was very unfortunate, because it was all Miryn could afford to give. Her hands were tied as it was. Money for food and shelter, time and attention for matters of basic survival. It already took all she had on a daily basis just to keep afloat. Where was the energy to do more supposed to come from? A surge of frustration washed over her, though she wasn't sure why. The woman was just asking, and not even in an accusatory tone. In fact, a few years ago – in another lifetime – Miryn would've agreed. Faith and service towards a cause greater than oneself; it was the highest honor. "As I said, sometimes what you want isn't what you get. I doubt even the gods fare much differently than mortals." Miryn frowned again. "Though, if the gods were disappointed so much that they turned away from us more than they already have, I suppose we'd have quite the problem on our hands. "So, what then?" Miryn nodded at the woman. "Do you have answers, or are you just trying to make my night more bleak than it already is?" The small crowd around them was becoming less small and Miryn regretted not staying indoors for another ale.