She Finally Arrived!

08-02-1012

While I waited anxiously for my wife to arrive, I trained as a monk up to a strength fifteen times greater than when I had began, and I trained as a warrior up to thirty times stronger than I once was. After reaching this level, many townsfolk offered me new quests to learn the abilities of a Paladin and a Ninja and a Dragoon, and many others. Then one day my Moogle finally received a letter about my wife. Her passport was ready and she was coming to Vana’diel in a few days. I worried at first if she was able to able to tie up all of our loose ends back home, and then I wondered what I was thinking—glad that I could finally see her again. It had been almost four years on this world since I had seen her. The letter? Oh, I shall read it to you:

Boswen,

Hi, Darling! Oh, how I have missed you so! Have you enjoyed yourself while you were waiting for me? I can’t talk long. They finally got my paperwork in order and I am waiting to board the flight to Vana’diel! I hope you were able to learn the ropes there and get familiar with the place. I’m sure I will need your help when I arrive. I can’t wait to see you! They finally got my passport paperwork in order and I will be on my way to Vana’diel soon. Please try not to miss me too much—I will be there soon! Oh, Sweetie… It will be so good to see you again. Have you found any nice places for us to go on dates? What are living arrangements like there? I guess I will find out soon enough. The attendants here tell me it is a long trip, but that something called “Moogle Magic” should get this letter to you within minutes! Oh! They are calling for us to come aboard. Don’t worry about the shop, dear. Our family gladly offered to take care of it for us while we were away. I have to go, but I will see you in a few days, Darling. I love you, Sweetheart!

Your Loving Wife,
Eponine

P.S. You like that name? It came to me in a dream one night when I was thinking of you.

Back on our home world, my wife and I managed a medieval Arms and Armoury shop. We had just started off less than a year before I left, but we both felt a higher calling to Vana'diel... Unfortunately, her passport took almost two months longer to process than mine had taken. I shall have to tell you about her and our adventures together in one of my next entries. I was relieved to read that we had found a caretaker for our humble shop. Our family has always been willing to watch over us and guide us as needed, and this was no exception.

Although our marriage was recognized by our home world long ago, we plan to have a ceremony here one day as well. It would be both to reaffirm our commitment to each other, to celebrate our new life on this new world, and to invite the cherished friends we hoped to gain to witness our blessed union. Even as of this writing we have not yet had our ceremony. Perhaps we will one day…

Death and Life

08-01-1012

This concept of jobs and levels themselves were still somewhat foreign to me. This was probably the cause for the many "dirt snacks" (that's local slang for getting knocked out) I tasted. After finishing off the current monster, my companions would often chime in with things like “Mmm, how’s that dirt taste?” to which I would reply “Needs salt.” This was a common theme, as death almost always seemed to result in landing face down. Luckily, there was always a helpful citizen around to "raise" me--another concept I still don't quite understand, even now. Perhaps we are only made unconscious and the mages here simply cure that ailment, like any other.

Back home death was the end. If you were shot in the chest and had no doctors to heal you, you died shortly after that. Even their curing magic still amazes me. I can be dripping blood and full of cuts and bruises and other battle scars--but a few simple chants from a healer and it's as if nothing ever happened (except for the stains on my clothes, maybe). Back home we had no second chances, no magically ability to bring you back to life. Even worse, one single shot would kill you. I've been shot multiple times with goblin crossbows, and I've only "died" from these shots if I was already severely injured or had no healer with me. Not only that, but it seemed that the stronger I got, the less it hurt when I was shot by the goblins I fought back in Gustaberg. Nowadays I don't even get scratched--that is, if they can even hit me. At my current level, I can either dodge their crossbow bolts (not likely), or their hands quiver with such fear when they see me, that their accuracy becomes incredibly poor.

I'm still not really sure what happens between those last breaths of consciousness as I hit the ground, and magically arising to my feet. I can never remember anything during that time. It feels like I am drawing my final breath, then I suddenly realize that I am rising up from the ground onto my feet--almost instantaneously. One time my group was not able to find someone to raise me in time and my spirit could no longer hold on. Luckily, I did not vanish completely but was sent back to something called a "Home Point."

The first time that I died outside of town I somehow wound up back in my Mog House. The last thing I knew was that I was trying to slay a massive sheep up on a hill. Then suddenly I was in my room looking straight at my Moogle. Before I realized he wasn't the sheep I started to take a swing at him. He winced expecting pain, but I luckily pulled back before I could hurt the little guy. My Moogle noticed how pale I suddenly went and how shocked I must have been. Dying and returning to one’s home point can be quite a jolt the first few times. Luckily, he seems infinitely stronger than me in case I had not been able to pull back my punch. I quickly apologized and explained what I was doing on the hill before being sent home. He understood and explained to be about home points and how I could set mine at the giant crystals around town--it would certainly save him a few more possible whacks on the head. I can only imagine what I would do if ever I accidentally hit my little Moogle buddy. I felt so bad that I bought him some stuff he asked for the next day--not much, just a Beetle Ring and a Power Bow. To my surprise, he came back with a gift of a bigger closet so he could hold more of my neat junk... and more armor and whatnot too. A quick hug and a thank you and then I went off to attempt those sheep again…

New Beginnings

07-30-1012

My clothes seemed completely out of place here. I was so glad to shed them and adorn the "race specific gear" I was finally issued--they even gave me a real sword! I met several of this world's other races that first day. Galkas, one of the many races of this world, live here in Bastok as well. In only the few days I have been here I have noticed how unfairly they are treated by some of the townsfolk, as if they are lower citizens then humans ("Humes" they call us). I never could understand that.

I was really excited on the first day that I got to go out and use my sword. I soon grew much more experienced at battle and was easily slaying ... (*sarcastic drum roll*) worms and bees. Oh boy, I thought. Woohoo. I could squish those things back home, although much smaller, mind you. After fighting many pesky worms and lizards I acquired various ore and something called fire crystals. I visited the local Goldsmith’s Guild to see if they could explain how it worked. Indeed, Reinberta and Fatimah were able to just that for me. I soon learned how to smelt the copper ores I had found into copper ingots and then later how to combine some copper and zinc ores into brass. I must admit, my first few attempts looked like shiny animal droppings, but Fatimah was able to show me how to fix them and do it right the first time. If I wanted more practice but had run out of ores from the worms I killed, I could even buy more ore from Teerth or Visala. The guild members who ran the shop were all very helpful and very courteous, but I suppose any business would want to treat its customers kindly. I’m not yet sure if it is heartfelt kindness or just a façade to get more of my gil. I’ve only been here for a few days, so I have not yet had time to gain anyone’s trust.

A lack of gil and thirst for more strength compelled me to go back and fight more of the vermin outside. Though I felt like I had grown stronger, I sure didn't feel like I had accomplished much. I wanted to rid the land of the real pests--the growing problem of the local beastman hordes just outside of town. One of these strange beast races was called "Quadav" -- massive humanoid turtle-like creatures that packed a mean punch. Anything that could swing a sword at you with what seems like the strength of a five oxen must surely be avoided until you have gained the strength of seven bulls--or until you can get a few of your friends to help take it down.

To my amazement, there were even "Goblins" here -- something I thought only existed in comics about web-slinging super heroes and what not. These little punks fought dirty, doing things like lobbing bombs and wildly charging at their opponents. Sometimes they would knock me right off my feet for a moment. They weren't that difficult of a monster, as long as I choose the easier looking ones. (Dear me! It felt strange saying "monster" when I had first started as an adventurer.) If all else failed, I'd simply wind up next to my Moogle, stunned. Still, time brought more and more of these Goblins across my path and I began to form quite a grudge against them. The infamous "Dunes" and those blasted Jungles didn't help any. (I'm sure you've all heard of these places by now. That horribly bright sand always had a way of getting under my skin and making stubborn monsters harder to fight. And I hated navigating those confounded jungle trails--I got lost more than any good adventurer ever should have.) I've lost count of how many times those darn Goblins have knocked me out cold. And those little boogers just love to sneak up on you when you're in the middle of beating up something else. Much later in my adventuring career I finally reconciled my differences with the goblins--at least to some extent. In Jueno, one of them aided me by magically increasing the size of my backpack, while another crafted me a wonderful new set of armor from some simple patterns I found around the world. In a land far away from Bastok called “Aht Urhgan,” I even fought along side them, aiding the town in its defense against the great and many evils of that land.... But I digress. Those are other stories far ahead of this one, to be told some other time.

I still enjoy beating up the evil Goblins every now and again, but I don't target them anymore than the other local monsters. At one point I was so furious with them that I wanted to come back to the dunes when I was stronger and slay as many of them as I could find. (This startled some, while others suggested I take up the Dark Knight profession). It was a long and hard journey up to my warrior’s twentieth level. After all, it was my first job and learning the ropes is not easy. After increasing my warrior skill twenty times over, I talked to an old coot named Isacio that wanted some kind of magic skull, a worm and a crab shell. I didn’t understand why, but I happily obliged. Something about proving myself worthy was the only way he would teach me his fighting techniques. After giving him what he requested, he taught me how to wield the abilities of multiple job classes. I didn’t feel any different, so I had to test out this newfound skill. I returned to Bastok, laughing at the garbage that tried to attack me on the way back. I had tried out each of the jobs I had learned for a few hours when I had first arrived in Bastok. Each seemed interesting, but Warrior had caught my fancy first, as had Monk, albeit much more briefly. When I arrived in The Dunes as my Warrior, I was asked to distract the mobs away from everyone else and focus it’s attention on me. I was happy to take the heat, as I had plenty of good healers during my time there. Monk’s naturally high health and vitality seemed the perfect support role to my warrior class, and vice-a-versa. Too my surprise, I felt stronger playing Monk with this new support role ability than I felt beforehand. After increasing my monk skill just ten times over, I suddenly remembered how to provoke a monster’s anger against me. It was quite thrilling!

The Great Republic

07-29-1012

As I arrived here, I was greeted by a kind welcoming committee and shown around Bastok. After spending the day viewing all the sites of this wonderful city and getting a good grasp of my surroundings, I decided to retire for the evening. One of the benefits of this wonderful adventurer program is the free studio apartment they give us. The kind townsfolk explained to me how to get to my apartment--they call them "Mog Houses" here. What exactly is a "Mog" I wondered. It didn't take long to find out. Upon entering my room, I was greeted by a marvelous creature called a "Moogle." I had seen them in the brochures but thought for sure they were some type of hologram. In fact, I think I startled the poor Moogle. I reached out my hand to try to put it through what I thought was an empty image. Instead, I nudged him in the stomach and suddenly pulled back my hand, shocked. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you guys were real," I told him. "There's nothing like you on my home world." "Oh, I didn't mind, Kupo. The other Moogles told me this might happen, Kupo!"

It was odd to have this servant-like creature at my beck and call, but also somehow comforting. He explained to me all about the "job" system and how armor and weapons worked here. It was not so different as I had imagined--probably much like the medieval age was back home, with a few exceptions. I could probably equip anything I chose back on my home world, had I the strength to carry it. Here, however, there was some kind of magic that bound armor and weapons to specific job classes and experience levels. Some armor was even bound to an individual's soul and could not be used by another.

So, with the day nearing to a close, I decided it was best I get some rest. The first few nights were slept on the uncomfortable floor, but I didn’t mind. I did some errands for the local townsfolk as best as I could for a few days, trying to earn money to buy a simple bed. I sure wish they furnished these places too. The Moogle told me that I would have a furnished room if I visited the other nations. I planned to do just that -- if only so I could sleep in a nice warm bed. In the meantime, I learned a lot about this adventuring thing from the townsfolk, my Moogle, and other adventurers. I couldn’t wait to get my armor and a decent weapon so I could start training to protect my wife when she arrived.

A New Land

I had originally planned to release this post as one long entry, but I decided to split it into five parts for easier reading. I've been working on it off and on since Christmas Eve morning, so I hope they are well worth it. So without further ado, I give you my sudden burst of first entries in character. Enjoy!

07-28-1012

I am called Boswen. I was born on my home world as "Bowen," belonging to the Swan clan. This world was in the 4th month of its 436th year at the time. A new life and a new world requires a new way of thinking--so I try to base my time lines upon this world. Some would say that I am nearly 600 years old--surely a magical being like the once immortal elves of the distant lands of Lothlórien. Few from this world know of that place. Nay, I would guess that some might have even traveled here from there. Had I told the townsfolk my age in their terms, some would think I had gone mad or would simply not believe me, while others still would be frightened of me. I am only 22 on my home world, so I thought it best to choose a similarly suitable age for this world. The concept of age doesn't seem at all like that of my home world. Why, I know some friends that arrived here in Vana'diel on its 938th year--that's nearly 74 years ago! Where they were born or what their true age may be, I do not know. But they don't seem a day over 30! Some wonderful mystery about this world is it's ever-present youthfulness. Sure, many of the townsfolk range from young children to wise elders, but the adventurers seem to have a youthful fire that burns within them—even the gray-haired Elvaan.

When I had signed up to become an adventurer back on my home world, the form only asked for one name--neither my given nor my surname, just a name. It was as if Vana'diel’s adventurer recruitment stations wanted to create a sense of unity or something--or perhaps just didn't care. They said that some of the townsfolk were the only ones with traditional given names and surnames. Adventurers were known only by their first name and country of citizenship or preferred job class. Examples they gave were great adventurers such as "Alison the Amazing Thief," "Argentos of Windurst" or sometimes just by first name, such as "Guankim." By the suggestion of my dear wife, I combined my first name with my clan name to form "Boswen." New life, new thinking, and now I had a new name. They also suggested I seek the assistance of local guilds, such as "The Treant Alliance" or "Wings of Fire," or "Thumb Monkeys."

I arrived in Vana'diel on what was the 3rd day of Vana'diel's 12th month, in the 966th year of the first age. That was almost 45 and one half years ago, according to this world. If I had aged that much on my home world, I would have been considered "over the hill" by now. Here in this great land, however, I feel as though I am barely into my youth. Even though time seems to move much faster here, my physical body seems to age much slower. My years in Vana’diel will surpass the age of my parents soon--quite an odd feeling. When last I saw them, I was leaving their land to travel to Vana'diel and enlist in Bastok's adventurer program. I always wanted to see new places and try to really do some good for the world. I had hoped that I could do both this way--maybe even become one of the great Mythril Musketeers I read about in all the brochures. I can no longer remember my true age, but it matters not anymore. I plan to live out my days here as a citizen aligned towards a lawful good nature. I have always been an honorable and kindhearted soul that enjoys helping others in need and would gladly lie down my life for that of my friends.

I regretfully missed the turn of the millennium here--it must have been a sight to be seen, or so I imagine. What struck me as odd, however, is that none of the four nations here had any kind of celebration to commemorate the new millennium. Why, back home it was a grandiose event! Everyone was worried that the coming of the third age would cause mass problems with their primitive technology. At the same time, everyone was celebrating the coming of the New Year and the end of the present one. In this world, celebrations of Christmas cheer and the New Year only happen once every 25 years or so. Could it be that this world moves 25 times faster than my home world!? It sure doesn't seem as such. Days and nights here don't seem any different than at home, save for a much more beautiful horizon as far as the eye can see. Mayhap I just don't notice the ever passing of time.

Contemplations of Completion (OOC)

I have sometimes contemplated what I will do if I ever feel like I have "completed" FFXI. I don't think that will happen anytime soon, and I don't think I could ever stop without reason. Nor could I stop because there is some newer "better" land on which to live, as some of my close friends have done (with WoW and PSU). I enjoy FFXI so much that I have decided FFXI may be my first and last MMO. I do not wish to stretch myself thin, attempting to live a dual life between multiple lands (MMOs). I believe to do so is foolishness. I could never become a master of either life. I could truly only carve out a meager half-hearted existance in both. I have seen it happen with many of my friends who have attempted to live in both worlds. I am grateful that they have not left me entirely, and I am happy that they are enjoying life where they felt it was greener. But I am also saddened, for my life is here and here alone.

Also, if my life in Vana'diel must cease (either by way of unforseen events in real life or by way of the dreaded inevitably of servers permantly shutting down), I wish to retire gracefully and in good standing with my fellow comrades in arms. I wish to complete my career as someone viewed as a kindhearted old man who was thought of as a hero in his youth. I desire this not for want of fame, but that I could be truly thought of as someone helpful, someone who made a difference in the lives of his companions.

There is nearly nothing that can stop me in my quest at this point. To me, finally attaining level 75 with at least one job, fooling around with merit points for a month or two, and beating all of the missions is what I see as a complete life. (That is, I would like to at least attain Bastok Rank 10, and complete ROTZ, CoP and ToAU... Maybe even complete Sandy's and Windy's missions too.) I might even try to gain the highest possible ToAU Mercenary Rank. To me, that would be "beating" the game (just like when you see "The End" on the off-line FF games). Or at least, that would be the biggest chunk of meat of the game, if you will. Like in all previous FF games, there is a main storyline, and then there are countless hours of side quests to do. To me, the missions are the main storyline and my main focus.I might even try Dynamis if I can get a high enough level job to be helpful there. I hear running through them all has some interesting storyline to be read. I might even try to finish all my currently active quests and do join a "God"/HNM LS. Getting my Goldsmithing the rest of the way (currently at 64.7+1) to 100 is still something I'd like to complete, if I can ever find a good way to earn 30+ million in a reasonable time. You know, some other neat stuff like that...

But truly, all of that is just side quests to give me additional stuff to do on my journey. Not to make light of all the other non-mission stuff to do within the game. I enjoy almost every aspect of life in Vana'diel--accept maybe the dunes :P But the real reason I think I'll stay in Vana'diel is the family. Even after the servers shutdown, I could never forget the life I enjoyed here.I enjoy role playing, and Paladin is my favorite job (if you haven't noticed by my blog title). Sure, I have other jobs leveled and I enjoyed doing so, but I play them primarly to become more verstile by having plenty of good support jobs. I also enjoy a change of pace every now and again. I liken it to a vacation for when too many wounds have dragged my spirits down. But at my heart, I really like the Tank role. In Vana'diel, I live to be a valorous protector of the weak, fight honorably, and do good service for my friends and loved ones.

If by some unforseen event, life forces me to retire early, I don't think I could ever sell my account to gil sellers. My life in Vana'diel is like a piece of me, and to sell it to those good for nothing gil sellers would be like sending my own kin as a sheep before the slaughter.

P.S.: This post is the result of reading a wonderful blog: Memoirs of a FFXI Thief, by Alison the Amazing Thief. Thank you for inspiring me, Alison. Specifically, it started as a comment I was going to make (before it got too long) to this post.