A Brief Introduction
Hello all! Before I get into the story I am about to publish here, I wanted to mention that this is part of an ongoing literary project where I am trying to gather stories from the RPs of folks here on RPC and put them in a collection of short stories/vignettes/narratives that'll eventually be made official in some capacity (hopefully a bound book). You can find details of the project here: Click Here to Visit Thread
Outline and Story Board
Table of Contents
NOTE: Please excuse the formating. Its hard to have paragraph indents and the white space is important to the writing voice. I recommend copy and pasting the text into Word and indenting the paragraphs for an easier read.
Hello all! Before I get into the story I am about to publish here, I wanted to mention that this is part of an ongoing literary project where I am trying to gather stories from the RPs of folks here on RPC and put them in a collection of short stories/vignettes/narratives that'll eventually be made official in some capacity (hopefully a bound book). You can find details of the project here: Click Here to Visit Thread
Outline and Story Board
- Originally named W'Hirho Tia, Resides on the border of Gridania and Ala Mhigo 21 years prior. Age 9 at the fall of Ala Mhigo.
- Becomes a Refugee and finds spark for Adventure while making shady deliveries to and from Little Ala Mhigo in Uldah.
- Travels to Limsa Lomisa to explore and eventually joins Adventurers Guild. Currently Age 11. Of course, he gets turned away for his age.
- Gets picked up by Highlander named Balthazar Lupo, a Wolf Hunter who likes to camp in Northern La Noscea. Learns more hunting and trains to be a Gladiator, remote from Ul'dah.
- Finds out Original Balthazar Lupo was a retired mercenary with moderate repute. Original Balthazar gets killed defending camp and friends from Kobolds. In an effort to survive, W'Hirho takes Balthazar's name, pretends to be him, and inconspicuously takes levequests to earn gil and keep him and his friends alive.
- Trial by fire of levequests help W'Hirho, henceforth Balthazar, get better at fighting and adventuring.
- Balthazar gets found out that he is faking as a mercenary. Gets some fire for it and fights a dual with an old company leader. Loses, buts hows his strength and talent. Gets recommended to Gladiator's guild in Ul'dah for further training. Keeps Balthazar name since everyone knows him by that in Limsa (Friends/Clients/etc included)
- Travels to Ul'dah and begins training as a Gladiator. Takes Levequests to earn gil and make a living. Eventually leaves Guild with satisfactory marks (about lvl 20 in the story line ingame).
- Joins the Adventures Guild at the Waking Sands. Now age 15.
- Takes a seemingly managable levequest with a party. Turns out the levequest is MUCH harder and dangerous than originally anticipated. In a fight against a large group of Amaljaa, Balthazar reaches the limits of his Gladiator training. Most, if not all of his party perish, he picks up a lance and bow, and fights his way out, eventually failing the levequest but surviving. Gains a permanent scar on his face and an to his left shoulder that heals fully eventually. He is age 19.
- Feeling guilty about being the only survivor, he stops adventuring for a while, staying in Ul'Dah and working as an assistant to the Goldsmith Guild. Donates some of his gil to his fellow Ala Mhigan Refugees. He eventually gathers himself, picks up his gear, and begins adventuring again. His first course of action, to recover the remains of his fallen party members and visit their families. At the end of all this, his now age 19.
- Goes to the place where his party failed, armed with a spear and bow. Is eventually successful and was able to recover the helm of his party's tank, the staff of the White Mage, A ring belonging to the lancer and a necklace belonging to the archer. He visits their families to return their belongings, trying to bring them peace. He also returns the lance and bow he took from their bodies when he fought out to survive. Now age 20.
- In order to prevent losing a party again, Balthazar leaves Ul'dah for Gridania in search of more experience and knowledge. There he gains a passion for Carpentry, which he would do for a hobby for many years. Now age 22
- Armed with a new shield and sword, he would continue adventuring, meeting new people, and making excellent staves for Conjurers, Bows for Archers, Lances for Lancers, as well as shields and furniture. He eventually becomes a "Master" Carpenter (level 50 equivalent). Figures he should learn how to use what he made properly and joins the Lancer and Archer's Guilds and gains moderate but not amazing proficiency. (Level 15 in each). Now age 28.
- This leads up to FFXIV 1.0 events.
Table of Contents
- Prelude: Letter from the Chronicler
- Part 1: The Fall of Ala Mhigo
- Part 2: Balthazar the Wolf Hunter
- To Be Continued...
Quote:Letter from the Chronicler
Dear Friend,
Should you find yourself in possession of this book, I wonder as to how you look upon it. Will you look at it with angst and anticipation of the adventures held within? Or shall you leaf through it, merely interested in a secret or treasure contained? Regardless, let it be know, that whatever you expect you must believe me. Believe me that I willingly desire the words on these pages to be the most truthful, bold, humourous and exciting one may imagine – full of tales of adventurers, merchants and tradesmen – true tales of the men, women and children whom you so readily observe today.
Know now that I write is the true story of those who reside in Eorzea. I write them as I was told, changes only made to the style merely to make the words more pleasurable. Should the reader find discrepancy between one tale and the next – merely dismiss the thought of fallacy to make way for a constant truth – we live not alone in this land and the lives of your sisters and brothers speak differently.
Whether you hail from the gold lined prospers of Ul’dah or breathe the sweet sea air of La Noscea, it is my hope that this book carries meaning for you. If you wield the sharpened blade or tempered bow, or are one to choose so in days to come, remember this book, for I write it for you. May your forever walk in the Light of the Crystal.
Sincerely,
A Modest Chronicler
Quote:Part 1: The Fall of Ala Mhigo
A flash blinded him as the wild boar began its charge towards him. Not knowing what else to do, he steeled himself and lashed out – having never killed a living thing before – only to find that in the next moment, the heavy animal would be on top of him having knocked him flat, deader than a doornail. He would try to heave the beast off his chest, but to no avail. He was stuck.
A few thoughts would run through his head: “Are my ribs okay? Where boars always this heavy? What was I DOING?†His mind was moving so fast, he even failed to notice the flump as a tall figure rolled the carcass off of him.
"Generally, it’s a good idea to jump out of the way, Hirho." An elderly Miquo'te stood above him as the then 8 year old Seeker stared blankly at him from the ground in confusion. He reached out his hand to let the boy up. "Though I have to say you do have a great aim. Remember, boy, being brave is great, but it matters not if you are dead. Live to hunt another day, for surely you’ll hunt again."
That was W'Hirho Tia's fondest memory of the time he spent with his tribe, a semi-nomadic sect of Miquo’te Sun Seekers whom at the time was located on the border of Ala Mhigo and the forest nation, Gridania. It was one of many memories of a time of peace; one of many memories of the times he spent with an elderly Nunh by the name of W'Ghana. And those memories he remembered well. It was the first time he spent real time with his father. It was his first hunt and his first kill. And it was the first time someone showed they really cared.
Having grown up motherless, the majority of his time as a youth was spent among peers. And as things usually go, this lead to some sense of alienation in the young boy. Being a child of the Seekers, the only sense of division within the tribe was that of their mothers; many children having been fathered by the same Nunh. When all the children went to their hearths, only he went home to an empty one. While the tribe was by no means hostile towards him, there were no great lengths taken to make him feel one with the tribe. That was until a certain W’Ghana Nunh spoke up.
W’Ghana Nunh was one of many Nunh in this particular Miquo’te community and as such, while he was not the sole leader, he was still a man of great importance. So when W'Ghana seemed to take a special interest in W'Hirho, the act appeared especially odd. Perhaps it was out of sympathy for his alienation and motherless situation. Perhaps it was from a sense of duty as a father. Or perhaps it was a sense of disgust he felt at the almost blatant disregard or disinterest of his fellow tribefolk towards one of their own. Whatever the reason may have been, it was lost to the boy. For whatever reason, W'Ghana took it upon himself to raise the child, and it was for that reason that W’Hirho held his father in high regard. The Nunh acted as both his father and his mother, teaching him important skills from reading and writing common tongue to hunting and gathering from trees, and since the tribe relied mostly on trading the pelts and wood they gathered from the woods, these skills proved invaluable.
This special treatment was not without consequences, however. Much to the dismay of W'Ghana, W'Hirho's alienation increased, possibly due to his peers detesting his apparent entitlement. While bullying had not been a factor before, W'Ghana began observing that the lad was getting in more fights and ceasing to hunt and play with his peers. The tribal nature that is normally so engrained in young Miquo’te began to fall apart for W’Hirho and W'Ghana would soon realize that the young Seeker would one day have to leave, believing now more than ever that W'Hirho wasn't meant to be a Nunh or a Tia of the tribe.
The elder Miquo’te began bringing the cub on his trips to Gridania, where the tribe sold most of their pelts, excess meat, and wood at the time. It was here, at the age of 8, W'Ghana had W'Hirho learn to take over some of the negotiating with the vendors; this is where he began learning to trade, barter, and start making his own coin. His skills and eloquence grew, and with it his confidence. It became more and more apparent that as he grew more social with the other races of Eorzea, he would begin to distance himself from his birth tribe. With every trip to the Twelveswood would W'Hirho golden eyes burn with the fire of adventure; Meeting a wealth of traveling merchants and adventurers set the kindle down for a new stage in the young one’s life. The exotic stories of the great beasts being taken down by daring adventurers and the tales of wealth gained in grand cities such as Ul'dah enraptured the young boy, and with this W’Ghana was certain of his son’s newfound path.
W'Hirho, on the other hand, could never imagine leading such an adventurous life nor of leaving his tribe, but by GODS he wished it so. Perhaps if he hadn’t had wished so earnestly would he not have regretted when the time to leave came.
The year was 1557 when news of Garlean forces reached the border tribe - just days before the Ala Mhigan capital fell to its own internal strife. Fear began to spread – the Miquo’te could have never imagined that the military nation of Ala Mhigo would fall. The facts lay bare: while they had resided in Ala Mhigo for some time they had largely isolated themselves from Ala Mhigan politics. They could not expect assistance from the remaining military resistance. They needed a plan. They needed one now. Many members voiced that they beseech the Twelveswood, having more closely associated with the peaceful nature of the neighboring city-state Gridania. Despite this, the tribe was not without their Ala Mhigan loyalists whose allies numbered among those who refused to abandon their home. The tribal leaders began to debate on what to do, whether to fight for what remained of Ala Mhigo or flee to Gridania. The tribe became more and more divided as they argued in panic on what to do. A decision never came. Garlean forces decended on the tribe like the meteor of Rhalgr - many fought back - but many more fled.
W'Hirho never wanted to leave like this. Forced from the only thing he truly knew, he found himself among the many that fled. The days were blurry; the time leading to the complete domination of Ala Mhigo a distant haze. He remembers that he fled towards the Twelveswood with a young lad named W’Vira and his mother but he lost contact with them upon reaching the border of the late city-state. The end result was clear. As the chaos of conflict raged, its gusts and aftershocks had split the last of the living tribefolk sending them to the far reaches of the four remaining city states as refugees. The soon to be 9 year old Miquo'te was all but alone.
He had fled. He ran as the magitek of Garlemond devestated the lands he once lived. He ran, having lost his father to the chaos; he lost the one attachment he had to the tribe and the one person he cared for most. He left everything without even trying to save any of it. What did I do? The thought of his cowardice destroyed him. His mind was still that of a child and it was now that he began to realize it. He was a frightened child, bereft of the familiar and distraught at his abandonment. The guilt and disgust at himself rotted his mind as the notion that he betrayed everything he was raised to be: a brave Sun Seeker Hunter he was not.
His body wandered, while his mind stood still. W’Hirho even failed to notice the friends he had; those relationships made among the merchants and adventurers he frequented in the months before – a distant memory.They even went so far to give him food, water, clothes and transport in his time of need, doing what they could afford to do to help the boy for surely that is what the Twelve would want them to do. Yet nothing of this time would draw thanks or tears from the young one. He had become despondent, distant, and empty. The trauma of war was too much.
A year passed. The wall between Ala Mhigo and the rest of Eorzea was erected and W'Hirho found himself poor and barely clothed on the streets of Ul'dah. Residents of the grand city looked on the refugee with disgust and glances of annoyance. The merchants and friends whom had gotten him this far had all but given up. "He's given up living." they said. "We're sorry, but we can provide for you no longer." they said. What was he doing? Why was he here? Why did he survive while others perished? He himself began to wonder these things.
The now shaggy, black-haired Seeker cub could be seen eating the scraps of the wealthy just to stay alive. It was awful, shameful, and desperate. He would dig into the trash day in and day out to scavenge what he could. The hunter turned street urchin did what he could to stay alive. To stay alive.
It was at that moment did all the answers to his questions came. To attempt to write of the essence of this revelation here would be only to betray its import. He would live, not for himself, but for W’Ghana, the one he left behind. And with that, an echo could be heard.
"Being brave is great, but it matters not if you are dead. Live to hunt another day, for surely you’ll hunt again."
* * *
Perhaps now you wonder why I tell of such a child. Indulge me to explain; for it is not because of its grandeur that I write it, but because of its pervasiveness. As my duties as a chronicler do I share it - for it is a beginning that is all too common yet shared far too few. Of what he became and will become. Because it will relate to all of us, should we become nationless in this time of great turmoil. But I digress. You the reader should interpret this tale on your own terms. My only responsibility to the story is to tell it.
* * *
NOTE: Please excuse the formating. Its hard to have paragraph indents and the white space is important to the writing voice. I recommend copy and pasting the text into Word and indenting the paragraphs for an easier read.
