Final Fantasy XIV: The Winter Calamity

"Firewa'er. Till make ye' go blind an' drag yer soul 'low deck."

God. What the hell do they put into Firewater?

"What perchance would be slightly more tolerable?"

"Grog."

"Grog?"

"Seafare' Grog. Don't nothing' come from knockin' it back, but a sore 'ead an' a broken marriage! Ararar!"

Thancred drank deep to that.

In Aleport, they mainly handled drinks for the common man. Well, my Blacksmith took up residence in the Northern Shroud. His alcohol would be coming in from a bar in Fallgourd Float called the Bobbing Cork. 

Fallgourd Float was a village built upon a lake. As the name suggested, it floated and bobbed up and down. The thought of it made me queasy. Would the bar be even worse? Could he even make it back home?

"What kind of spirits find their way to Fallgourd Float?"

"Wine a plenty. The treeknobs buy 'em by 'e barrel."

Thancred put down his drink temporarily.

"Brandwine as well?"

What's Brandwine?

"Nay, 'atta go to Ul'dahn 'eathabeds."

"Hear hear."

They shared another drink. Within the thick walls of Aleport, we found a Captain who had docked with his crew. While he handled the shipping manifest, his men were set loose to whore and dine. They would make fantastic converts. It's always the ones who were the drowning the deepest in lust that became the most ardent priests. It is them, who had the gall to spread the good word, or die trying. Brave bastards.

Thancred and the Captain chatted back and forth as I watched the port's activity outside of the window. There was a commotion on the docks. A fight had broken out, most likely pirates considering the strange placement of a ship that loomed over the docks and wasn't tied to the port. Naturally I stood up and jumped out the window to help the citizens of Aleport. My ultimate move was performed with haste. Doing nothing. 

If I was the Warrior of Light or got XP from killing things, maybe this would've been a moment of development for me. The struggle between gaining tangible power or doing the right thing. A representation of a man's inner demons, struggling against its confines to escape and reek havoc.

'Oh, another one down.'

Unfortunately for the citizens of Aleport, I had no such demon. Neither did Thancred. It was why we got along so well. Besides, the guards were doing their job well enough. I stopped paying attention to the bloody battle taking over the right-most dock and looked up at the clouds going past instead.

I wanted to cherish these times of peace and feel myself in the moment. I had been running around like crazy, so it didn't feel bad to slow down. I wanted to tour Eorzea with my girls before the Calamity arrived. Costa del Sol would be nice. Hehehe.

---

"Ra-k."

Papalymo was carefully inscribing runes into a rough, but durable stone. If the stone was too fragile, it could not handle the pressures of condensed Aether and would crack, if not explode. Obviously if the stone was too hard, it was impossible to carve. And what runes were carved in would erode and "spill" the Aether outside of its carved channels.

'Have I done it...?'

The green eyed Thaumatuge carefully inspected his work. Looking over each rune and comparing it to his designs. In under a week, he had reached this stage. A blessing afforded to him thanks to Yda spending time with her bloody cult. 

"Hmph!"

Papalymo channeled his Aether into the stone. A soft blue glow emanated from the carvings. 

'No flaws thus far...'

Unlike his compatriots, this Lalafell was not one to get overly excited until the job was done. His careful and attentive nature, while sometimes crass, had contributed aplenty to his career. 

The runes reaches the expected threshold and then one of the runes, one carved to be thinner than the others "snapped", changing to a different character. 

vwooom

The stone buzzed slightly, and became still. The runes still showed an amazing and persistent glow. Papalymo, in his utter shock, hastily reached out and flipped an hour glass while recording his recent steps. 

This was the furthest he had come thus far. A sense of joy filled his heart, but likewise a sense of unease. He watched in silence as the sand in the glass ticked to fill small etched markings in the glass. 

His body ached from sitting so still, his breathing was shallow. Afraid that even the smallest variable could end his best experiment yet, earlier than necessary. 

'Twelve above...'

It still glowed. The erosion of the runes, or the cracking if the stone, neither had happened. Papalymo didn't know when it happened but his hourglass was already empty. His throat was dry and his fingers twitched. Even now, the Archon was not ready to call it a success. He had never been so thankful to that blasted cult before now. 

Using his fine and practiced control, the mage let his Aether leak out of his body. A flushed cloud of magical untold floated above his head. With a slight amount of anxious force, he grabbed the stone and rubbed his finger over the "lock" rune. The thinnest line of them all. 

VWOOOOSSSHHH

A strong rush if Aether coursed through his body, replenishing his Aetherpool.

"..."

He...

"I HAVE DONE IT!!!!! AHAHAHAHA!!!" 

It was a success. The Aetheric Storage Stone, the first of its kind, was founded. The echoes of this discovery would echo far into the future. 

Papalymo sprinted, dived and worked like mad. He had to create copies of his work, lest they were lost in a stupid accident and he'd have to rediscover his research. An exhausting and demotivating act that he did not wish to experience a second time. 

Hardness. Pressure. Aetherial Synergies. Proposed standards for the runes and how they worked. Papalymo wrote every factor in his experimental haze and double checked the values. Even if he couldn't pull it off a second time right away, such a success was nothing but a promise of future innovations. He was heading in the right direction. 

"Incredible..."

The young scholar, Winter. He was truly incredible. Where does one stumble upon such a thing? Probably from the same place in which he got his magicks. The sheer amount of possibilities that such a thing afforded the world... 

'Owowow... Headache.'

Stressed Papalymo out somewhat. Thancred mentioned that he believed there to be a force in the background feeding the Primals or providing crystals. Papalymo was inclined to agree with the sinful bard. Something rotten was looming over Eorzea. 

knock-knock

"Papalymo? Are you quite alright in there?

"Come in!"

Y'shtola, his fellow Archon could probably add valuable insight into his theory and what could be improved. After handing his work over to her, he walked around and stretched his exhausted body while sipping Cactuar juice. He hadn't felt fulfilled like that for a long time. 

When Winter came back from whatever new task he had thrown onto his shoulders, Papalymo fully intended to grill the young man for more insights into his work. He said numerous times that the runes could be optimized. Inlays of different metals could augment or degrade how the Aether moved or held within their carvings. 

How many kinds of metals existed on Eorzea? Too damn many!!! Each one promised another insight into Runic Carvings and by proxy, into the nature of Aether itself! Brilliant! Too brilliant!!!

Y'shtola seemed just as determined, taking careful notes with a firm scrunch of her brow, watching the stone endure and hold Aether with little fault or pause. Papalymo kept sipping his juice and staring down the stone. Daring it to break or erode. And yet, nothing. 

He had a long life ahead. Papalymo intended to dig out every Runic secret he could. His mind swirled with fervor. This is why he became an Archon. This exact feeling. The heated pursuit of knowledge.

---

"I'd like this sent to a friend of mine. Do your porters make special orders? I'm willing to pay if needed."

"O-Oh! T-That won't be necessary sir! I'll send it wherever you please!!"

"Are you sure?"

Thancred and I had arrived in Wineport. A beautiful little town, sat in a wide crater, that was dotted with roses and poppies. Their bright red sat pridefully against the pure white stone that composed the majority of Wineport's buildings. It reminded me of another game's aesthetic where you ran through a city colored white and followed markings colored red. 

They had a special brew here called Baccus Wine. It was made with the similarly named Baccus Grape. A species that was wiped out during the Calamity. Another source of money had appeared before my very eyes. And I only remembered because this wine was used to complete one of the very worst quests in the entire game.

A Realm Reborn was lackluster in the story department. It was understandable coming off the disaster that was 1.0, but it was a struggle for many getting into the game for the first time. 

Over the years, the devs cut down on the tediousness of those 2.0 quests with fantastic retroactive patch work, but they still were a bit painful.

I glanced at Thancred, who then glanced at me.

"No."

"Tch."

I would have to steal the wine myself. Unlike an assassination attempt, committing a robbery was far more involved and likewise far more difficult. I couldn't just hire some nobody to do it for me. Even now in the Astral Era, one bottle set me back almost 80,000 gil. I simply couldn't afford to buy up their stocks and wait for it to appreciate in value either.

I needed to talk to my Kan-E and see if the elements had an issue with me digging out a wine cellar below our home. I also wanted to establish a seed bank. I wasn't sure which crops died during the Calamity, but regrowing them myself would be very beneficial. With my shell company, which I still hadn't established, and Rowena being the front, I felt rather confident about doing the latter. 

But to steal wine? And seeds? I didn't have a pocket dimension. Pirates weren't yet outlawed... I'd need a boat of sorts. This would be far easier if I could stealth like a Rogue, but their guild didn't exist. Yet, wasn't there a Rogue right here? 

I looked at Thancred again. 

"Whatever it is, no."

I'm gonna get you, you bastard. I'm not doing this myself! You're perfect for the job!

"I'm NOT doing it!"

"Tch."

Damn Archon. Thinks he's too good for his old ways. I wanted this done before the pirate ban came into effect, but there simply wasn't time to plan and commit such a massive act at that time. I'd have do pirate the wine away after the ban. Whatever ship I was on could be caught by Privateers and I'd get locked up for sure. My power wasn't enough to let me fly and I wasn't excited to swim away either. 

"Thancred..."

"No."

'Fuck! Come on man you're perfect for this! I need MONEY MONEY MONEY!!!'

Wait... Could I carve runes onto the wine casks?! HAHAHA! What if I used Return?! I was a genius! It was fine! Fuck Thancred! I had this covered! 

"Oy."

With the wine for Gerolt bring packaged, I felt a bit of relief. If this didn't make him crave a good drink like the games, then I would need to find a different way to persuade the man. If he ended up famous, with thousands and thousands of orders, I'd be in an even worse position. I didn't want to break him if I could help it. 

"Ignoring me again..."

One might ask, why not just go make friends with Gerolt? I did have a habit of doing such a thing. The key word was exclusivity. No matter how close I was to Rose, it was impossible for me to have him put me before the guild. Many friendships were like that. Unless they were someone on you inner circle, putting yourself first was common sense.

Gerolt was a legend. A disgraced one, but a legend even still. I couldn't afford some rich asshole strutting along and buying the man to work at their private estate in Ishgard. I needed those weapons for the Scions and the Warrior of Light. 

What kind of friendship would I need to cultivate in order to get him on our side, and for free? That's right. Free. It goes without saying that these weapons were worth entire villages.

Alcohol was just the correct choice. The obvious and perfect, correct choice. There was nothing wrong with it at all.