LystAP

Sign X'cinna up for B nyah!

Ture maybe for A!

Notice something about these Couerlclaws? They're supposed to be all women, the Couerlclaw King's harem. But in Stormblood, there are male Couerlclaws now. I wonder what caused the shift in recruiting. Or perhaps SE wasn't paying attention. It is a singular new development that could be relevant to Keepers. Interesting to say the least. However; if I recall we do slay him in a level 29 fate. https://ffxiv.gamerescape.com/wiki/The_Coeurl_King There very well could be a new Coeurl King then; or at the very least- they've regrouped and someone else is running it. I don't think the FATE outcomes are established canon. For example, we beat Svara all the time in the Steel Vigil, but she is actually definitively defeated in the MCH chain, in the quest Securing the Locks. In addition, the Couerlclaw King FATE has been up for a while, but you also get the Moogle Mail quest where he shows up.

There's a pretty interesting development for the Couerlclaw gang in Stormblood, hidden away in the Scholar class quest. It is in the Scholar quest, A Safe Place to Hide. In particular, this excerpt - Notice something about these Couerlclaws? They're supposed to be all women, the Couerlclaw King's harem. But in Stormblood, there are male Couerlclaws now. I wonder what caused the shift in recruiting. Or perhaps SE wasn't paying attention. It is a singular new development that could be relevant to Keepers.

d)! Nyah!

*suggestive lizard noises at the muscle cat* jk :lol: So cool!

Sign up for B) slot. GONNA DO SOME NYAN!

Swole cats! Where's the lizards and popotos? Your art is great!

A! Cinna wants to go after the TONBERRIES.

The little speech at 1:50 in the release trailer. Reminds me of the discussion at the end of the ARR Monk 50 quest. Regarding what was it all for. These little things, SE.

Cinna for the second. With An and Simbles. Nyah.

I sign up for B! On Cinna or Ai. Mmm. Just say Cinna for now.

Cinna for A! NYAH! Otherwise, Reserve for the others!

He also has a Hotgo with a grudge against him. My Hotgo, Chakha Hotgo. She's not very people-persony, but she'll show up anywhere Zanzan's friend does. Honestly, the amount of interest this has generated so far has surprised me. Lots of different, cool avenues of approach when it comes to stories. Awesome sauce! Hotgo lizards are rare. Dotharl lizards are legion.

He also has a Hotgo with a grudge against him. My Hotgo, Chakha Hotgo. She's not very people-persony, but she'll show up anywhere Zanzan's friend does.

Well in SE defence, we really don't know what Ala Mhigan 'aesthetic' is. We've seen the Fist of Rhalgr, who are wierdo religious cult esque group, and a heap of poor hobos, refugees and mercenaries. That said, I don't think it is that far-fetched beyond the 'flamboyant' aesthetic (once more for all we know it might be legit Ala Mhigan aesthetic >_>. Perhaps the RDM class was the 'upper' class type of job? Nobles ect? Ala Mhigans were after all super advanced compared to any other Eorzean city. So writing it off on "well they had to focus on survival" doesn't make exactly sense. They were a wartorn area, and if real life logic applies a little bit to it, nations who actively war then to progress quickly on warfare, so I don't see why it would be far-fetched to have RMD to have its origins there. I think we were all just thrown off by the fact it looks super flamboyant. Honestly, aesthetic wise I could have said Ishgardian, but alas. Maybe we're looking into it too deeply atm with Ala Mhigan influence. So far we only know Red Mages came from the ancestors of Amdapor and Mhachi, around the same region that houses Ala Mhigo, and if I recall correctly, they were primarily Midlander Hyurs and Lalafells. With Ala Mhigans being dominantly Highlanders, it could be as Sounssy stated, the Red Mages could have came before the Ala Mhigans, only to seclude themselves again as they came into power, which could explain their current 'absence'. I honestly don't see Ala Mhigans as the mage sort of society which they have focused so much on lancer legions and monks. Not going to lie, when I read the bit about them fleeing the mountains of Ala Mhigo and whatnot... the first thing that came to mind was that jungle full of dinosaurs that apparently exists at the... south pole? in the X-Men universe. Just, instead of dinosaurs, it's a hidden enclave of ancient magic. ... which then immediately made me think of Dalaran and its big barrier shield in the older versions of WoW. Of note, I recall that the Black Mage corpses in Weeping City seem to be Highlanders.

Limsa Lominsa - Foremast - Parade Square - [Very Slightly NSFW] ——— The sun rose high over the Foremast as a unit of Yellowjackets and Maelstrom guards gathered. Security was heavy, despite the lack of a crowd; the recent Simb’a incident necessitated the large guard as Limsan officials sought to prevent another lost of face. Nevertheless, the lack of a crowd drew some awkward concerns from a few of the guards, “Where is everyone?”, “Did yea he’r? Ever since the Hellfist folks started disappearing, they be saying there is a curse,” “Yea jest? Me thought those only rumors,” “They say this one worked for them dirty Ul’dahians, mayhap they making sure….”, “Sush, yea don’t call down the Trader’s curse by poking yea nose around…, they say them Death's Embrace are involved...” The rumor mill continued churning around as the guards sought to alley their concerns by reaffirming their superstitions. After a bell, drums rolled and the guards automatically scurried into position and snapped to attention with drill-honed precision. Drums rolled and a group of people emerged from the shadow of the Foremast towards a prepared stage. In the middle of the group, bound in tight ropes and in light clothes barely preserving her modesty, was a female Xaela, the prisoner Chakha Hotgo. Her tail sways perhaps unconsciously with the drumroll and she looks up at the open clear sky, her face locked and devoid of emotion. How long ago had it been since that fateful day in Hawker’s Alley, where she spotted aaja… where the world she thought she had lost… came tumbling back. At first it was disorienting, then maddening… especially once she learned of the man… the Zanzan. She was well acquainted with the scheming nature of his kind; while she saw her former mistress as a friend, she knew very well how true that stereotypes of her mistress’s kind, the lalafell, can be. Such silly assumptions however, cast shadows within her mind that clawed at her psyche… once more, it felt as if someone was trying to take away what family she had left. She remembered the sun… the night… cries of fear and terror… the laughter of the massacrers… the roar of the cannon… the yells in the night… screams of outrage … what was she remembering? What was she recalling? The drumbeats synchronized with her heartbeat… with the beats of her minds eye set adrift into the depths of her memories. Before long she was on the platform… and the officer read out the charges and sentence… what was said is said and what is to be done shall now be done. The whip was raised, and the punisher’s face blanked out against the sun (and covered by a hood). With a lash… it came down and the sentence began. One Lash - it barely registered, despite the officer’s strength and sense of duty in carrying out the punishment. Within, the shock was absorbed as she recalled the true nature of her flesh… and mayhap soul. For a soldier of the Empire, magitek was the incarnation of Garlemeld’s superiority over the rest of the world… and to use it… to become one with it… was considered a means of becoming a part of the Imperial war machine. For the shadows of Garlemeld, many did not utilize said enhancements… fearful of what could be lost in the process. However, for those devoid of purpose nor care, said enhancements were means of granting both physical and cultural power among the legions of the Empire. Ten Lashes - Was it her decision? Yes. She cannot deny it. They filled her emptiness with power - with purpose - she was no longer Chakha of the Hotgo - a innocent naive girl of the steppes. She was a weapon… a tool to be used by those who would impose order on the world - a tool did not need family nor did they need to feel… no remorse, no regret. The orderless world of the steppes took from her… the Dotharl as she knew… did not felt remorse nor regret… in a “free” world… they celebrated their slaughter. Those who would go against order needs be cut out before they infect others… if only the Dotharl were destroyed before… she wondered. If only they were all destroyed… Fifteen Lashes - Her body shook, but she felt numb - how many people did she eliminate? Was the Dotharl band the first… when she lead the Empire to their camp? Or her fellow trainee? Or was it the insurgent boy? The corrupt centurion? Eliminate. Eliminate. Eliminate. Erase. Erase. Erase. The whip cracked against her skin - openly breaking and bleeding, but her castle remained strong. Erase, Eliminate, Remove, Cut, Delete. Delete. Delete. So many lives… so many diseased portions… so many possibilities… so many hopes and dreams… erased… deleted… eliminated. Twenty Lashes - How many lives did she delete - eliminate - erase? As easily as a entry into a Allagan data frame or Garlean processor - she removed many confounding variables, without a hint of regret or hesitation. Her orders came down and she carried them out. A shinobi is a tool, a blade used by their masters, the only objective that matters is that the mission is carried out to its fullest. A running family of a rebellious lord. A noisy local official. Annoying pirates off Ilsabard. An army moving through a narrow and collapsible pass. So many faces, all blank and full of regret. Hers or theirs? Twenty-five Lashes - Her master was defeated. It seemed impossible, but it became fact once the apparent missive was sent out. Many had betrayed their homelands, their people, their families, yet a single letter had abandoned them to the hordes. Chakha herself was on assignment in Vylbrand, disposing of a bothersome pirate captain, before learning from her contact of her master’s death and the disbandment of the Shadows. Never since the massacre had she experienced such a shock… but it remained for only a moment. She was alone again… far from those she knew… cut off from her duty and purpose. A blade cast off into the sea. Thirty Lashes - There she would have remained, if not for the experiences she obtained while wandering the land of savagery. Chakha knew who would have need of her services, and who would give her a purpose once more. A aspiring, yet unfortunately overambitious merchant. A renegade paw. A crazed heir. A gang of rogue Blades. Her new masters were pleased with her work and sharpened her blade with praise and generous portions of gil. She was passed along like a borrowed sword - she was a borrowed sword - owned by those who knew of her. A short time, yet a long time, eventually leading her to her last mistress. Thirty-five Lashes - Emerald eyes scanned her face, blonde hair with black highlights frame her head, although Chakha could smell the faint scent of hair dye. She had been passed along from master to mistress to master… and now she found herself in the employ of a girl only a summer or two below her own age. “Hi! I mean… *cough* greetings, Miss.” Her first mission with the mistress, passed over from her old master to the young mistress… was amusing. Infiltration. A trinket shrouded in darkness. She wasn’t sure that her new mistress knew the nature of her work. But the times… was entertaining, at the very least. Forty Lashes - For the first time in a long time, she eliminated relatively little. Here and there, an unfortunate soul. At first, it was a misunderstanding… but as she knew more about her mistress… she became hesitant… briefly… her means of elimination changed. The greatest of her past work was her capacity for delayed action… the army in the pass, the rogue Blades… the renegade gourmet. She refined these skills as she worked about fulfilling the innocent requests of the girl. For a time… she recall… “Because we’re friends, right?” A dramatic yet honest smile, it was a interesting time. The tool felt itself being used in interesting ways, yet it felt something. It did not quite feel… this way in a long time. Forty-five Lashes - It began when she moved to Limsa - Hellfist. What a pompous yet stereotypically Limsan moniker. One name caused so much trouble, she had eliminated, deleted, cut, removed so many others. Yet this one name caused so much trouble, it was another mark - another name to slash off on a lifetime of marks. Mayhap it would have been easier if she did not find her ajaa and learned of the Zanzan which grasped the former’s heart. Twice did she come close to slaying the Zanzan, yet it only looked at her… ‘his’ attempted murderer with strange eyes. Hate she knew. Fear as well. But the Zanzan did not show such emotions. Thus, she concluded that the Zanzan is a deceptive and unknowable being. Even if ajaa ordered her to tolerate him, she still could not bring herself to accept the Zanzan. The Zanzan was not a mark, none desire his death, yet she felt - she FELT. Fifty Lashes - She felt for the first time in years. Days of light and joy, shrouded by a night of fear and terror, the pain between her legs and heart shearing away the brilliance of the past into dark agony through which becoming a object was a means of release. I’m sorry. She said… now or in the past? The object felt… the object desired and despised… the object regret and saw a long line of puppets… their blank faces filling up with features as they turned to stare at the sinner. In a world where life was cheap, the auditor reigned; yet now the soul counter turned her… it’s gaze on her. A snap. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. She was alone again… on the dark steppes… fires in distance behind her… and a new sun rising… figures approaching from the sunrise. The imperial patrol of her past…? her ajaa…? Or a new shadow cast by her own mind? A few bells later - Chakha huddled in her cell, her treated wounds still aching and her horns and tail end throbbing; conjury had closed the wounds, yet the stings of the mind still hurt. She muttered “I’m sorry…” over and over, until a presence pressed upon her. She opened her eyes, and a figure sat there on the floor. It eyed her through reptilian yet familiar eyes, “Regret is for the weak.” It stated in a robotic monotone, a voice she recalled using in the past, “You have become weak, vulnerable.” It stated. “I will regret… for ajaa’s sake,” Chakha replied. The figure just sat there and tilted her head, “Ajaa does not understand. She doesn’t know all that you’ve done. She is blinded. But she will see one day. She will abandon you one day. You are a tool. To cut, to eliminate, to delete, to destroy. That is your purpose.” Chakha closed her eyes, “No. No. No.” ——— Prison Hulk - Off the Coast of Limsa Lominsa - “Ey, who she talking too? She’s the only one in the cell.”, “Shush, they of get delusional after a flogging. Just ignore it.” "How she only get off with fift'ty lashes for murde'r?" "Ant' non left of the Hellfist crew to call for he'r ead. So the Admiralty just wiping their hands of it. Yea know how it works, you don't got a crew to yell at the Command Post, yea just chowder for the fish. The guard muttered, ""Plus, this here lady got the service of Lieutenant Zanzan. They say he could convince the Admiral herself to dress up like a lass, or get the Syndicate to convict themselves in a forthnight with his siren voice. A real enthralling thing that little man is." "Mayhap he be a siren, glamoured in the guise of a man?", the other guard whispered, his eyes shifting back and forth. "Mayhap, gotta keep a eye on that little one."

c) Painting the Town Gold and Red (Friday, April 7th, 2017, 9 pm CST) For CINNA! GANG WAR GANG WAR GANG WAR!

HIHISA HISA - Night over Thanalan - Airship Flight Path #21 - Southbound from Old Sharlayan - Theme - The moon shone brightly in the night sky over Thanalan, light cloud cover with a slight breeze. It was nearly perfect weather for airship travel, which manifested in a line of lights descending and ascending from Ul’dah and nearby Vesper Bay. Amid this ebb and flow of lights - a single light rimmed in blue, rocketed through the outskirts of the airship lanes, before diverting to a new trajectory towards a nearly empty airship dock, usually reserved for official Ul’dahian business, although often rented out to private entities. A new Viltgance-class airship, equipped with corrupted crystal engines and wind-aether treated sails, slide through the air as it approached the airship docks. Engraved on the sails of the vessel was a unique seal, old when Ul’dah itself was young, and a symbol of a prominent family that flipped between the Royalists and its opposition for decades. Near the docks, a group of figures can be seen, a few black-armored Brass Blades around a smartly dressed lalafellin male, his arms crossed and face stern. The Viltgance steered smoothly into the docks, a testament to the skill of the privately-employed pilot and the brilliance of the airship’s engineers and designers. ————— She’s done so much in such a short amount of time, so many mistakes and follies. How could she have redeemed herself? A few suns of punishment - walking up and down stairs? ————— With a clang, the Viltgance lowered its docking clamps and a ramp descended from the airship’s hull. A manservant was the first to descend the airship, and he bowed politely to the lalafell male. Curtly, he moved aside as a another smaller figure descended the airship ramp. The moonlight shone on the figure and revealed pastel pink clothing - a rugged-looking yet deceptively expensive cashmere hood and poncho covering the figure, with bright pink hair akin to that of the Sultana herself. The cashmere hood and poncho were sewed in a complex horizontally-oriented geometry of characters, shapes and other designs. The appearance of the clothing seemed to overemphasize the intellectual capability of its sewer, rather than any actual aesthetic intent. The pastel pink appears to be post-hoc attempt at establishing some form of modesty on the poncho’s design. Nevertheless, the designs contrasted smoothly with the soft features of the wearer’s face, as a desert flower in bloom. ————— A fool. That was what she was. Not a scion of Ul’dah. Not behaving as per her breeding. She fumbled and rolled as many a penniless fool. She behaved more like the now-legendary Captain Simb’a Fuckintia, scourge of the Admiralty, Official Maelstrom Nuisance, the Nightmare of the Goblet Housing Authority (GHA), Avatar of Uninsurable Liabilities, among other interesting monikers. Speaking of the Fuckintia, she heard over the linkshell that the acting First Mate of the Revenge fired those she had recommended. Nevertheless, many of the sailors had expressed the fact they had a ‘wonderful’ time aboard the Revenge, and it was worth the experience to tell their children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. ————— The figure, now identified as a female Dunesfolk lalafell, with slightly similar features as the male Dunefolk lalafell, approached the latter and curtsied respectfully. “I have returned, Lord Cawajewa.” The older male Dunefolk lifted a eye, “Very formal I see, the Sharlayans have taught you well. Nevertheless, you may call me… father, Hihisa Hisa.” Hihisa looked up at her father, Hihijewa Cawajewa. “Yes, Lord Father. I have returned.” ————— “I’m the daughter of Hihijewa Cawajewa of the EADI you know?”… How many times did she use that statement to obtain her own desires? How badly did it end up because of her runaway emotions? She dug her own Masaja Pit and almost brought her family down with her… ————— Hihijewa regard his daughter with a somewhat analytical tone, a far cry from the unconditional loving personality he had exhibited before this fiasco of the Battle of the Gilded Ship. Hisa remained in her posture of respect as her father scrutinized her. She was slightly lighter than she was when she left Ul’dah. The fare of Old Sharlayan was renown for its utilitarianism; what flavorful dishes that exist where foreign cuisine made for academic pursuits. Her face remained relatively unblemished, her emerald eyes glistened in the night, reflected by both the light of the moon and the artificial lights of the city. Her coral pink hair, a trait of the nobility with links to the Ul line, lined her delicate (almost doll-like) features. Her delicate lips slightly chaffed after exposure to the harsh temperatures of the north, but maintained through a variety of alchemical lip balms purchased by her mother before her journey to the Old World. Her hands were enveloped in soft cashmere gloves, ideal protection against the fridge climates of the north and the exposed compartments of Eorzean airships. As Hihijewa scanned his daughter, Hisa also found herself involuntarily self-examining her manner of dress. Far more elegant than the red shirt man, whom she learned had the name of Osik Milkire, from what her sources could send her from Eorzea. A queer last name, but interesting; hyur naming conventions had always followed that of a profession, mayhap his ancestors were dairy farmers? She sent a letter to this Osik Milkire, mayhap he could forgive her for leaving him without contact? ————— It was only through their family’s legacy and the threat of returning a prominent family to the Royalist Faction that the Monetarists ‘pardoned’ Hihijewa. Hihisa was still punished, and with her survival, the case was dismissed, with most parties eager to get the event behind them. However, Hihijewa calculated that it would be best for Hisa to leave the country for a time, outside of the grasp of Ul’dah and other nations of the current Eorzean Alliance. Thus… she was sent to Old Sharlayan. ————— She recalled the prominent family she stayed with, old relations of her father. Her father was a renowned merchant, as well as her grandfather and grandmother on her mother’s side. Her mother and her family oft sent merchant fleets up north into the Big Empty towards the Old World and Ilsabard; whereas her father’s family focused in Thanalan, when it had bothered to deal with mercantile matters during generations that focused on the arcane and law. This discrepancy in family tradecraft philosophy, contributed to the approval by the patriarchs of her family of her father and mother’s marriage, outside of emotional notions of ‘love.’ The marriage of their families granted her father’s side access to practical connections in the Old World and Ilsabard, while her mother’s side obtained a foot in the door in Ul’dahian politics; a stronger connection with the Ossuary and a personalized tomb compartment in the Chamber, also contributed to the marriage approval. In Old Sharlayan, aetherology and aetherochemistry, the knowledge of life energies and their manipulation. Hisa had learned aether-manipulation as part of her Ossuary training, as well as her own studies into her family’s legacy. However, the Sharlayan schools of magick highlighted the ‘process’ of energy manipulation - Hisa found herself enlightened in a native school termed astromancy - or rather pestered by the daughter of her host into being a study partner. The experience highlight an interesting school of study, especially one she would write to her friend Edda on over the course of the stay. If there was a positive aspect that she took from her outcome, it would be her growing relationship with Miss Edda Eglantine, a peer residing in Vylbrand. That such a series of events would lead her to such a new relationship, mayhap the guiding hand of the Traders was responsible for their meeting. ————— After a few moments of observation, Hihijewa walked over to Hisa… he looked into her emerald eyes as she lower her eyes in deference towards her esteemed father. He reached his hand out… patted Hisa on her head. She slightly shook with the pat and looked at her father with eyes somewhere between teary and confused. With a lunge, she hugged her father and cried… “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for everything! I’m sorry…”, Hisa repeated over and over again, while Hihijewa remained standing, rubbing his hand against his crying daughter’s head amidst a fatherly embrace; the guards had turned about as if respectful of this touching family event, although a few sniffles could be heard. ————— The gentle lapping of the waves contrasted with the ravages of the storm. Memories of thunder and levin rip across her memories. Her time on the Iron Bitch with Captain Silverran was a ‘grand’ time. She had rarely seen someone so ‘outgoing’ in a position of command, although it may be expected for Limsans. She recalled the Captain stating that she was not a Limsan native, but from Gridania and Ul’dah, if it made sense. She had a captivating face for a miqo’te with above-average flesh bags compared to most non-lalafells, that often attracted the eyes of the crew. Mayhap she should seek the Captain out in the future, if she or her family should need a experienced captain. Speaking of ‘needs’, Hisa also remembers Miss Jana Ridah, another adventurer she encountered on her seaborne journey of penance. The mission with Captain Silverann and her crew was part of her family’s agreement with the Admiralty in exchange for a degree of leniency in her role in the Battle of the Gilded Ship. Miss Ridah reminded Hisa exactly of the stories of the bloodthirsty, undiplomatic adventurers that constantly invade the Ossuary libraries. Haven’t they heard of rental charges? The last adventurer… conjurer that she can recall was Miss Liadan. She was amazed by the display of raw power conjured from the elementals of the ocean. Hisa had read about Elementals of the Shroud, but she did not expect elementals outside of the Shroud to be capable of such power. Mayhap she could journey to seek Miss Liadan out when the opportunity presents itself… ————— A few bells later, Hisa stood once more ontop her family home. Looking down on the city, it was clear very little had changed since her departure. It to be expected, a few moons would barely be enough to shape a pearl, much less the Pearl of the Desert. Looking heavenward, Hisa recalled the night sky, nearly tainted by the lights of the city, the constellations that appear faded are drawn within her minds-eye. She remembered her aching and bandaged legs… a fate ordained by her own actions. Fate… she should have expected this outcome; the power she possessed led to many consequences… she will have to live with those outcomes. However, it means not mean it was inevitable… many Spoken have desired means of auguring their own destiny for eras. And more took up their own arms and sought to rule their own fate… As she smiled, Hisa looked down upon the city of lights, and drew a card from her sleeves. “Let us see what Fate has in store.”

AIGIARN KHA Ul’dah - Goblet - Dauntless FC House - Aigiarn’s Workshop cum Quarters Aigiarn hummed in her room, the light from the refurbished Allagan illumination node shining on the forming model in front of her. She deftly moved the magitek soldering iron on the carbonized mold, shaping and cutting pieces that she would fit into the model. She stopped briefly and stood back to admire her work, her tail lifting up in a mirror of the fluffy tails of her miqo’te compatriots. Before her… was a model of a Borealis-variant airship. Aigiarn thought about painting the ship in white after that renowned flying divine disaster, but recalled that she was in Eorzea and remaking the White Raven’s ship may cause some of her co-workers to question her allegiances. Her tail drooped slightly, before swishing back into her perky self as she imagined new possibilities. She should paint the Borealis model with gold paint, representative of the alloys being added to new Garlean ships that protect against magicks employed by Eorzeans. To her right was a report requested by the Admiralty as to the evaluation of the threat of Borealis-variant Aurora-class air dreadnaughts. With the ‘removal’ of Captain Silverann from her command, Aigiarn’s services were no longer required. However, the Admiralty communicated an alternative means of fulfilling the obligations of her contract with the Maelstrom. Noting her experience and history with Garlean magitek, as well as her presence at the Battle of Gloam, the Maelstrom submitted a request for a strategic memo from Aigiarn, whom was more than glad to compile the papers and exhibit her mastery of magitek. And... Payday! Formal Memo to the Maelstrom Threat Evaluation of Borealis-variant Air Dreadnaught - Level: EXTREME. The Borealis-variant of the Aurora-class. With a armament of 24 Type 41 Vulca-Rapid Fire Cannons, 40 Type 32 Heavy Magitek Cannons, 18 Type 21 Garlean Fire Projectors, 12 large-scale bomb bays, 14 Type 11 Magitek Rocket Launchers with Garlean fire and concussive variants, with a primary weapon of a Magitek ‘Citadel Buster’ Magitek Cannon. The Borealis can carry a full cohort within its decks, although much less heavy equipment, given all the space dedicated towards armament. First commissioned in the initial invasion of Othard, the Borealis leverages the aerial bombardment doctrine established with the conquest of Ilsabard, which significantly changed the ally/foe casualty ratio in favor of the Empire. In the early days of the Republic, Garlemeld found itself constantly outnumbered and magickly outgunned by a multitude of foes. For a people used to being outnumbered by the armies that drove them north to present day Garlemeld, the Borealis was an affirmation of the power of magitek and airborne bombardment, ultimately crystallized in the bow and stern hull placement of the majority of the Agrius-class’s arsenal. The Borealis can serve as a mothership for 6 Magitek Juggernauts and 4 Magitek Assault Craft. This is compared with the Australis carrier-variant [flying airship hangar], which can serve as a mothership for 24 Magitek Juggernauts, 12 Magitek Assault Craft, and numerous magitek gunships. For close range, the Borealis-variant is equipped with a large Magitek core, capable of commanding hundreds of magitek bits in defensive arrays to account for its topmost vulnerability, included after airborne mounted troops of a Wuxia kingdom nearly brought a Borealis down during the initial invasion of Othard. The Borealis-variant is especially renowned for the Massacre of First Bar - a naval battle in Othard where a single Borealis vessel, the Invidia annihilated an Othardian fleet of 200 ships: 60 ship of the line large-junks with 140 auxiliary ships of medium and small vessels. It is said that before coming to Eorzea, a Borealis class - the Dalamud - named after the fallen second moon - was the White Raven’s flagship of choice, who helmed the VIIth’s fleet’s one-sided victory over a large alliance of warlords and rulers in Wuxia. During the VIIth’s invasion of Eorzea, the Dalamud obliterated an entire joint Gridanian/Ul’dahian division, and was responsible for the demise of the Navigator's Fist and its fleet, commanded by Commodore Haelstrymm’s predecessor, which had then been responsible for patrolling the Sea of Jade. In the end, the Dalamud was sabotaged and destroyed enroute to the plains of Carteneau; evidence later hinted at the involvement of imperial opponents to the Meteor Plan. If the Dalamud had been present at the battle, it could been presumed that it would have inflicted horrendous casualties on the Alliance forces. It is the evaluation of this engineer (and in conference with fellow Ironworks engineers) that Commodore Haelstrymm made the logical choice when choosing to withdraw in the face of the Borealis-variant vessel, barring emotional arguments. This memo encourages the Maelstrom’s development of its own airship fleet to counter Garlean air superiority. The Ironworks, under Vice-President Jesse, with Highwind Skyways, will be more than willing to provide assistance and facilitate Limsa’s aeronautical development. The existence of the Firmatas in Gloam also indicates a means for the Maelstrom to obtain air superiority, while remaining true to Limsa’s nautical roots. It is recommended that Maelstrom Command establish a board for the formal advancement and integration of magitek technologies into the fleet, as well as increased investment into airship development and air/sea integration. Sincerely, Aigiarn Kha Garlond Ironworks OOC - HIHISA HISA - FORTHCOMING CHAKHA HOTGO - FORTHCOMING

Maybe entering? Nyah!

Sign up on X'cinna as tentative! (I have pre-existing appointments before it. >_>)

Thank you! Love your work, kivkeaw!

Chakha for Styrmm's End. *sharpens stabby daggers*

Woooo! Art! Sent you a email!