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.

Her speech was about as flowery as certain members of the clergy back home, too, but at the very least she seemed genuine in her words. So, this woman was reaching out to strangers on Emerald Avenue, risking public ridicule (and the occasional sword) in hopes of... illuminating their lives with the Twelve's radiance? For all the time Miryn had spent in Ul'dah and the wide range of people she'd met, she couldn't count many noble or selfless souls among them. It was just so strange to bump into one on the street. Miryn's frown softened in favor of a furrowed brow instead. "I suppose your intentions are as good as any, if not the approach." She glanced at the crowd gathered around the fountain, finding a few expectant stares. Yes, the woman had asked her a question - a very direct question that, in an unguarded moment, had stabbed straight to Miryn's core. Perhaps someone less grim would've happily shared their praises or shortcomings in regards to the Twelve, but Miryn was in no such mood. And certainly not with an audience watching. She shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "I say my prayers, and pay my tithes. You know us sellswords; with danger breathing down our necks every day, it doesn't hurt to have the favor of a powerful friend in your pocket. Sometimes the Twelve listen, and sometimes they don't. Can't blame them, that's just the way it is."

Miryn leaned her head into her hand, letting the sounds of the Quicksand wash over her. She could see the bottom of her mug and didn't even feel a pleasant buzz anymore, but had not the coin to correct the issue. Jobs had been scarce of late and her purse was worryingly light against her hip. One drink a night was already a luxury she could ill afford. Ah, but at least she could count on the Twelve for small favors; at the Quicksand, even the cheapest porridge tasted like the finest meal. But the evening was wearing on and Miryn had no desire to turn in for the night. Feeling fresh air would do her good, she secured her sword and made for the doors. As the evening breeze hit her, so too did a stirring voice from down the steps. Curioty piqued, Miryn joined the small crowd that had gathered by the fountain and pushed her way to the front. In doing so, she accidentally made eye contact with the woman and found herself at the business end of an index finger. Devotion or sin. Miryn stiffened, her eye widening a perceptible fraction of an inch. Perhaps it was the glint of armor and flowing cloth, or the voice ringing with familiar fervor, but she was strongly reminded of the Inquisitors, the weight of their judgement hovering over her house, all she had labored for threatening to collapse into ruin. Emmalie's tearful plea to help her escape... Instinct brought her hand to her sword and she'd gripped the hilt before realizing it. Miryn hastily forced herself to relax and corrected her expression into what she hoped was one of disdain. "My devotion and sins are for the Twelve to know, not you." She frowned. "Who are you to question passersby at random, anyway?"

When I was a fresh 50 PLD, my first job ever, an officer in my FC crafted me a HQ Mailbreaker free of charge. At the time it was worth half a million gil, which was literally more than twice the money I owned. I was grateful beyond words. He got lifelong loyalty from me. This was back in fall 2013; I am still in the same FC, haha.

I just dislike the CoD fight because of all the running around I have to do as DRG. At least the music is boss. It soothes me even through multiple wipes. There was a time when I got into Sunken Temple HM on PLD, asked "How much do you want me to pull?" and got "just f*cking go" in response. I'm damned if I don't ask and damned if I do ask. What am I supposed to do ; ; I am pretty thankful both dps were my FCmates, they kept my temper in check.

When I'm done with tome capping and Coil for the week, I look for T5-T9 clear parties in PF and lend a hand. I've met some really cool people this way, which is extra valuable considering my server's small-town size. Even if we don't clear I can at least offer advice, experience, and encouragement. My friends are usually down to join me if they're not busy, which reinforces my love for them. And all the wiping keeps me humble.

Excalibur and I are ready for the next step of relic. I've even been saving up cash in case it requires some kinda wallet-breaking craft/materia/desynth/ungodlyRNG component again. I wouldn't put anything past SE, having gotten this far now. I've also considered porting Miryn back to Goblin so I can take advantage of her soldiery bonuses for friends. I spend so much time on my home server anyway I haven't formed any meaningful relationships on Balmung, lol. also tempted to fantasia her into Au Ra come Heavensward The new dungeons look rad! I can't wait to muscle through them for the first time with friends and loot more worthless crafting mats from the boss chests.

I macro HG because I sometimes use it before my health gets low. When I do a particularly large pull, I pop Hallowed first and I want to let my healer know not to panic-Benediction me because I'll be fine for 10 seconds while they get situated. I swap out the plain Provoke for my macro version when I'm in content that involves a tank swap. I also love it when the other tank has a macro for Provoke. It's really useful for me to know by sound instead of staring at the aggro bars, when my cotank has initiated the swap so I can duck behind the boss and drop my tank stance without worry of cleaving the raid. Also, if I don't hear my own macro go off, I know my Provoke didn't actually take. D: In 4-mans or non-swap fights though I don't bother with the Provoke macro.

Oh baby that dark knight armor. I thought I was ready to enter the angsty side of tanking with the Divine War set, but that DRK AF(?) is leaps and bounds better looking. Please no boob window or miniskirt on the female version, SE. Please.

I definitely enjoy scars from an aesthetic standpoint for RP. I often make fighter-type characters and scars just seem natural for them to have. Miryn has plenty scattered all over her body, most of them from fighting Dravanians, and more recently a few from clashing against bandits and voidkin. Her only scar of real importance is the one over her left eye, due to planting herself between a charging aevis and her lord's son. It's an example of her very stubborn brand of loyalty and protectiveness.

Seriously, guys. Leave the Spiny alone. Marking it with the stop sign does not mean "kill this first". Dps blowing their stuns for the extra damage on bosses that have moves I want to interrupt is my biggest pet peeve. Yes, even in Ifrit HM. I know most people overgear the content these days and eating an Eruption or two isn't so deadly anymore, but any time I try to Brutal Swing and nothing happens because someone else was triggering DR, I can feel the party's eyes on my back, going "lol what a shit offtank". It's not my fault. ; ; When I'm a dps, tanks that don't interrupt things that are interruptible is my second biggest pet peeve. And I don't want to hear the "oh the healer is super geared, let him just heal through it." The WHM in my static has some special words for people who make him do extra work just cause other players are lazy. Tanks fighting over the boss in CT/ST. I don't even want to MT those places anymore because I know adds will be running amok eating the healers/dps. And can we talk about CT/ST runs with at least one bard in every party, but there is never a Foe Req up, ever?