Lore:The Harbor Herald
The foremost paper in Limsa Lominsa, reporting on matters of pertinence and currency to seafarers. From the haughty bluster of pirates to far-reaching developments in foreign diplomacy, The Harbor Herald never fails to put into port with the day's haul of fresh tidings. Based in the hub of trade upon the five seas, no other paper can claim the same wealth of knowledge in international affairs.
The only known reporters for the Harbor Herald so far are Yumah Molkot and Petyr Winsome. Anything else about the publication is unknown.
Harbor Herald - Final Reckoning Nigh (04/10/2012)
The morning mist shrouded the Lominsan docks, lending shape to the air of tension that reigned supreme. Arrayed in splendid black livery and wearing a look of mythril resolve, Chief Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn strode up the gangway to take her place aboard the Triumph, the mighty galleass serving as the Maelstrom’s flagship.
Lovingly wrought by the master shipwrights of Naldiq & Vymelli’s, the newly christened vessel smelled of fresh paint and promise. Upon her yet spotless deck, beneath the rippling dragon galley ensign, stood score upon score of our nation’s stalwart defenders, who saluted their commander-in-chief as she performed the customary inspection. Nodding to them in acknowledgement, the Chief Admiral then bellowed the order to weigh anchor, her powerful voice piercing the solemn silence. So it was that the Triumph made sail to join her 28-strong fleet comprised of warships from the Maelstrom, the Lominsan Armada, and myriad pirating crews.
Even as I put quill to parchment, this combined Lominsan fleet is en route to Vesper Bay, the maritime gateway to Thanalan, bearing a burden of soldiers. Upon making landfall, the Lominsans will merge with the forces of the Immortal Flames and the Order of the Twin Adder. Maelstrom officials have been tight-lipped about their plans thereafter, but all evidence suggests that the allied army will then march for the Carteneau Flats in Mor Dhona, where the VIIth Imperial Legion is presently entrenched. It would seem the final confrontation between the Eorzean Alliance and the Garlean Empire is just beyond the horizon.
As the main Lominsan host traverses the Strait of Merlthor on its way to the fields of reckoning, a second is in the midst of being assembled. At the heart of this auxiliary force is the Foreign Levy, the Maelstrom unit formed of adventurers and specializing in land warfare. Thus far in the conflict, adventurers have been instrumental in dealing with Garlean presence across the realm. With their strength joined to the main host, the Maelstrom will reach the zenith of its might—the least we will need if we are to smite the imperial invaders once and for all.
I urge all Lominsans to join together in prayer for the good fortune and safe return of our fighting men and women. May the Navigator guide them to the shores of victory!
Yumah Molkot
Harbor Herald - Wandering Minstrel Arrested (22/08/2012)
The sudden appearance of this enigmatic individual at Red Rooster Stead caused quite a stir among the adventuring community. Bedecked in silver adornments and bearing a magnificent harp, his propensity for reciting verses of a peculiar poem to all who would listen led him to be called the wandering minstrel. The minstrel has, however, apparently departed as abruptly as he arrived. Are the comings and goings of an itinerant bard a topic worthy of an entire article in The Harbor Herald? Ordinarily, nay. If, perchance, one learned that the Yellow Jackets are responsible for the disappearance, then the story begins to merit closer attention!
A botanist present at the scene of the arrest furnished us with an eyewitness account. The wandering minstrel was, as always, penning letters and speaking in impassioned tones to visiting adventurers. Without warning, however, a squad of glowering Yellow Jackets shouldered through the crowd and apprehended the surprised bard on charges of “inciting unrest.”
According to the testimony of bystanders, the minstrel was, through the medium of his art, entreating his listeners to prepare themselves for the coming of the Seventh Umbral Era. With nerves strung tight over the Garlean invasion and talk of impending doom, was his arrest an overreaction on the part of the Yellow Jackets? Or was the nomad performer a sinister figure in truth?
The facts remain clouded, but it appears that the guards posted in the vicinity of Red Rooster Stead are on the lookout for potential accomplices and sympathizers to the minstrel’s cause. It may behoove the wise to avoid touching on the subject of the Umbral Era in their presence for the time being. That is, of course, unless one welcomes the prospect of joining the minstrel in his prison beneath the Coral Tower…
Yumah Molkot
Harbor Herald - Bombard Backlash (30/07/2012)
Perhaps you remember, gentle reader, the façade that was the Moonfire Faire? This festival was fabricated for the purpose of drafting gullible adventurers into the ranks of an emergency Bombard-banishing squad. The explosive intruders appeared the very same night that meteors fell to earth across Eorzea, and it was only the intervention of said adventurers that protected our cities from indiscriminate incineration. Such a positive outcome is also the only reason the festival was not more widely condemned for its underhanded recruitment practices.
And now it appears that the Moonfire Faire will soon be upon us once more. I have heard an increasing number of tales that speak of Bombards rising in all their smoldering horror from nothing but ashes—ashes that escaped the bleary gaze of faire workers during the aftermath of the previous invasion. According to reputed scholars, an extraordinary surge in the strength of elemental fire is again responsible for the disruption to the aether’s natural balance. In the end, however, the cause matters little. What concerns us now are the massive incendiary invaders poised just beyond our walls.
But now that the innocent mask of the Moonfire Faire has been stripped away, who in full possession of their mental faculties would willingly volunteer for Bombard battle duty? I would fault none for such despairing thoughts, but the Adventurers’ Guild was ever an organization with a card or three hidden up its collective sleeve. It appears the resourceful members of the guild have obtained a shipment of rare garments from the mystic East, and intend to hand them out to any soul brave enough to stand on the front lines of our defenses. Thus do they appeal to an adventurer’s unquenchable lust for the exotic, as well as the inherent good nature of our would-be saviors.
This year, I urge you to embrace the faire. Everywhere I turn, I see fear and uncertainty etched on the faces of ordinary folk as the Garlean Empire marshals its forces to overwhelm Eorzea. A dose of Moonfire frivolity mixed with a dash of monster-mashing madness may be just the elixir we need to uplift our floundering spirits.
Yumah Molkot
Harbor Herald - The Cieldalaes to See Combat (25/07/2012)
Limsa Lominsa has been teeming with brawny types of late, and I speak neither of pirates nor dockhands. Nay, the strapping lads and lasses who have assembled are arrayed in the striking colors of the Order of the Twin Adder and the Immortal Flames. Lest readers wonder, the members of these outfits have come to the Navigator's Veil for no other purpose than to partake in joint military exercises alongside our own homegrown talent.
The exercises are set to be held upon Turtleback Island and Locke's Lie—two uninhabited isles belonging to the Cieldalaes. Even as I put quill to parchment, hordes of fell beasts are being transported to the two locations in order to produce actual combat conditions. As a matter of precaution, civilian access to the entire archipelago is forbidden until further notice.
With Turtleback Island and Locke's Lie serving as stopovers for open sea fishing expeditions, transforming them into battlefields will greatly inconvenience fisherfolk—if that camp were to raise objection, no one would bat an eyelid. As such, it rather came as a surprise when our fishery's leaders did the contrary and gave their blessings for the exercises to proceed. This reporter, for one, could not help but feel warmed to the core by this attitude of cooperation.
Besides the fisherfolk who have vacated the isles, other civilian concerns have also stepped forward to proffer aid. Chief among them is the Brugaire Consortium, which recently announced that it will be supplying a large shipment of arms in support of the exercises—at no cost.
In response to recent fluctuations in the market, the consortium is sourcing these arms from the city-state of Radz-at-Han, far across the Jade Sea. I should note at this juncture that these are no ordinary weapons—they are fashioned from a peculiar stone called Giantsgall,* a material traditionally used in the making of Near Eastern arms. I caught glimpse of one such blade hanging on the hip of a Twin Adder officer returning from a drill, and humbly asked if I might examine it up close. Let it suffice to say that I was duly impressed by the craftsmanship.
With the conflict against the Garlean Empire anticipated to further intensify, a climate of cooperation is very much in evidence in Eorzea. If we all but do our part for the greater good—each man, woman, and child—victory will yet be ours.
Yumah Molkot
Harbor Herald - Imperial Invasion! (06/06/2012)
The offensive efforts of Garlean forces have grown ever more insistent.
Time and again their flying warships have rained troopers upon our camp on Vylbrand, and time and again the stalwart soldiers of the Maelstrom, along with the assistance of both the local militia and adventurers, have weathered the steel-clad storm. There are some few who, after claiming such trifling victories, might think the imperial threat little more than an occasional nuisance. Those who possess the wits the Twelve gave a gnat, however, might be more inclined to question why the Empire, with their overwhelming superiority in numbers, continues such seemingly scattered and ineffectual forays.
Our puissant publication may have acquired the information needed to answer this very question. According to our Maelstrom sources, it appears the Garlean Empire has constructed a base of operations in central Aldenard, in the region of Mor Dhona.
The Empire has long exhibited uncommon interest in this area—one might recall the fleet of warships deployed to occupy Mor Dhona some ten years past. Though that particular attempt was foiled in rather spectacular fashion by a dragon of immense proportions—whom the dominant theory holds to be the legendary wyrm, Midgardsomr—the imperial forces have, it seems, finally succeeded in establishing a foothold in the region.
Could it be that these half-hearted assaults on Eorzean cities were intended to accomplish nothing more than to divert attention from the Empire’s base-building activities? Maelstrom officers have responded to our posited hypothesis with a non-committal, “the investigation continues.” What elusive prize do the Garleans hope to gain with the construction of this new base? As is often the case, scholarly opinion on the matter diverges rather wildly—some theorize the desire for ceruleum to power magitek weaponry, while others put forth the crystal mines as a likely candidate. There are even those who believe the entire operation a façade for a more sinister purpose. Whatever the truth may be, all can agree that, at the very least, the Empire has gained a significant foothold on Eorzean soil. One hopes that the upper echelons of the Maelstrom are corresponding with their counterparts in the Twin Adder and the Immortal Flames to contrive a swift reprisal to this unsettling development.
Yumah Molkot
Harbor Herald - Garleans in the Vale (22/03/2012)
If any of us ever harbored doubt that Dalamud grows larger by the day, that doubt is now surely dispelled; recent days have seen Menphina’s faithful hound burgeon to such proportions as to render its epithet of “lesser moon” seem inappropriate.
When Dalamud first began taking on a crimson hue, some few folk regarded it as a portent of evil things to come. In the beginning, such beliefs were met with indifference, and the believers largely scorned. Of late, however, a perceptible change has swept across the land. Brawny sailors are being observed hurling profanities at “Menphina’s bloody cur” for unseasonable storms out upon the high seas. While over in Ul’dah, where wealth ever reigns supreme, wares of dubious utility are flooding the market, one such product being a miracle draught purported to ease chronic backaches triggered by exposure to the lesser moon’s light.
According to Ishgardian stargazers, the celestial body indeed draws near. And while this is undeniably a cause for concern, this reporter would remind readers that no good shall come of jumping to conclusions and acting out of fear. For verily, there are other threats to our safety and wellbeing far worthier of attention. In particular, I speak of the Garlean Empire, whose activities upon Eorzean soil have intensified of late.
Our sources in the Maelstrom have revealed that imperial troopers have been sighted in Coerthas, within a long-abandoned mine called the Aurum Vale. Those unfamiliar with the mine are like to envision endless veins of gold—and indeed its every surface seems aglitter with the precious stuff. Yet be fairly warned that this is but an illusion born of the mingling of mythril ore and natural deposits of sulfur. Folk are more like to find their death than riches within the Vale, for its underground lakes hold not water but a potent corrosive known as Goldbile, the result of contamination by the two aforementioned substances. Besides scorching the flesh, the liquid also emits a noxious gas that renders breathing an exercise in agony when inhaled, an affliction known as Gold Lung.
No living creature can survive being in the Vale for any length of time save those monstrosities that have evolved to thrive in the forsaken environment. The occasional fool is known to venture in, driven by the dream of striking it rich, but the Garlean motive remains shrouded in mystery. One theory posits that the Empire seeks to survey the mines for crystal lodes, but this is as yet unsubstantiated. Military tacticians are in accord that, unlike Dzemael Darkhold, the Aurum Vale serves no strategic purpose, and we are left to wonder in trepidation what diabolical plot the Empire is in the midst of hatching.
We at The Harbor Herald shall keep our eyes firmly fixed upon all developments within the Aurum Vale, and would duly appreciate the assistance of those adventurers and travelers bearing firsthand information.
Yumah Molkot
Harbor Herald - The Bonds of Love (31/01/2012)
Those who have sojourned in Limsa Lominsa may have come to know one Dympna Tinstyll. An independent exporter of exotics, Dympna is also an avid enthusiast of the culinary arts, and it is for that reason that we are proud to present The Good Salt, a column in which Dympna can share her delectable knowledge with all of Eorzea. Today she writes about a very special chocolate treat said to have the power to make the feelings in our hearts known to those we love.
Arabelle de Valentione. The legendary Countess of Ishgard who risked all that she had and was in her quest to discover true love, and whose name is now immortalized in the Eorzean holiday of Valentione’s Day. Be my Valentione! Three simple words to communicate that most profound and heartfelt of sentiments—love me as I love you. Yet simplicity is no substitute for courage, and implicit in these words is the confessing of one’s deepest feelings, the laying bare of one’s very heart, and the unshakable fear of rejection. For the shy and timid among my audience, and for all whose faces are quick to take red, allow me to share news of a certain chocolate for which you will no doubt be pining.
Words may be wind, but wind reaches all, and the hushed winds that have reached the Herald tell us that the chocolates are now being prepared at the Bismarck. Some say that the gourmets there have learned something of the divine concoctions made by the maiden servants of Menphina, goddess of love. Still others claim that a rare and valuable spice extracted from Meracydian gold is used in the baking. All that can be said for sure is that a truly unique and amazing recipe has been devised. What is more, it seems the commissioning of the Bismarck to produce these treats came at the hands of none other than the Adventurers’ Guild. Most interesting indeed!
The restoration of the Grand Companies in each of the three nations has served to create rifts between adventurers. Could it be that rivalry and infighting may come to exact a toll on the solidarity and fraternity among them? It seems such misgivings are not altogether absent within the Adventurers’ Guild.
It is a splendid thing indeed that the adventurers have come to take a sense of pride in the Grand Companies to which they pledge themselves, be they of the Storm, Serpent, or Flame. Amidst foreboding rumors of the coming of the Seventh Umbral Era, however, Twelve forbid that the needs of the realm’s citizenry go unattended due to bickering and bitterness between factions of adventurers. Yet there is no malaise what cannot be set right by chocolate! Whether all we have heard is truth or lies, what cannot be denied is the movement that has begun—a movement meant to foster and promote love among adventurers, be it romantic or fraternal. And these chocolates are the key to its success! But do they truly possess the power to communicate one’s love to another as we have heard? Can Valentione’s Day fan the flames of love beyond the barriers put in place by the Grand Companies as the Adventurers’ Guild hopes? Whatever fate the gods may have in store, one fact is clear—I simply have to try one of those chocolates!
Dympna Tinstyll, Culinarian Columnist
Harbor Herald - My Little Chocobo Makeover? (19/01/2012)
Allow me, if you will, to venture some hundred years into the past, as I recount for you today a tale of bravery, loyalty, and heroism the likes of which our Eorzea has not seen since. The date is 1468 of the Sixth Astral Era. The forces of Ala Mhigo have crossed the Velodyna River, whose waters form the border with neighboring Gridania, and now claim dominion over the East Shroud. With its invasion into these lands sacred to the forestborn, Ala Mhigo, a garrison state known for its jingoism and expansionist ambitions, sparks what will come to be known as the Autumn War.
But Gridania would not be made to stand alone for long. The following year, the three nations of Limsa Lominsa, Ul’dah, and Ishgard—keepers of the watch over Mhigo’s hegemonic belligerence—would dispatch reinforcements to the embattled area. By joining their might to that of Gridania, an alliance is formed, and the Ala Mhigan offensive is stifled.
Serving in the last altercation of the Autumn War, the Second Battle of the Shroud, is a young Elezen knight of Ishgard by the name of Beltrant Durendaire and his spirited warbird, Ouranos. Riding alone on a routine scouting, Beltrant discovers a flying column of Ala Mhigan infantry and archers on a clandestine march devised to maneuver wide of the allied front and flank it. But he, too, is discovered by the enemy, and before he can spur Ouranos to bolt, an Ala Mhigan volley of death rains down upon them.
For every ten archers who miss their mark is one who strikes true, and in the blink of an eye both rider and mount are riddled with arrows. Somehow, in spite of his wounds, Ouranos finds the strength to break into a full gallop, and only narrowly escapes the enemy’s grasp. And then the true miracle—from some inner fount of unending will and love, Ouranos, guided by instinct alone, bears Beltrant back to the allied camp, miraculously keeping his unconscious and near-death master in the saddle the entire way. The life of Ser Beltrant saved, he makes known the movements of the enemy flying column, and by his report the allied forces avoid encirclement at the hands of the Ala Mhigans, and in turn execute a counteroffensive that would turn the tide of battle and eventually deliver one of the most monumental victories in Eorzean history. Sadly, Ouranos would not know the victory for which he was solely responsible. The wounds suffered and the toll exacted by the return journey would prove too much for the bird—indeed for any bird—and mere moments after seeing his master back to the safety of camp, Ouranos collapsed, never to rise again.
Despite grievous wounds, it is thought that it was a single arrow to the side of the breast which in the end claimed the life of Ouranos. A single, crudely made arrow. One among a hundred. Such an insignificant thing to claim so grand and noble a life. Determined never to see such a tragedy repeated, the armorers of Naldiq & Vymelli’s have created a new set of barding from the fires of their forges. It weighs heavy on the heart to think that such armor may have perhaps saved the life of Ouranos, whose self-sacrifice born of loyalty saved the lives of so many others.
I have it on good word that designs for the new barding, which was commissioned by the Maelstrom of Limsa Lominsa, are now complete, and mounts are already being outfitted with the first batch crafted for testing in the field. Should the results prove favorable, Naldiq & Vymelli’s will begin mass production.
From what I have heard, the barding is ingeniously devised so as to protect the vital areas of the body and head, yet without hindering the speed or movements of the chocobo. Moreover, there are slated to be a variety of forms to appeal to as wide an aesthetic range as possible. It would seem we are finally drawing near the day when the heavily armored chocobo will at last be a reality—albeit one hundred years too late.
Harbor Herald - Maelstrom in Motion (22/11/2011)
Limsa Lominsa has been abuzz with activity these past few moons, as the Maelstrom went about recruiting members and making myriad other preparations for its launch. All of this culminated in a ceremony to officially inaugurate the Grand Company’s reformation. Helming the proceedings was none other than Chief Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, who stirred the hearts and minds of the audience with words of courage and resolve.
For the benefit of those who could not attend, the following is a summary of what transpired that day.
The official inauguration for the Maelstrom was held within the Bridge, a fitting venue for an event of such magnitude. While the ceremony was open to the public in theory, the limited space meant that naught more than a score or so chosen via lots could attend. A popular jest circulated that one was more like to discover Mistbeard's secret cache than win entry into the upper levels of the Mizzenmast that day.
As the scheduled hour drew near, Lominsans from all walks of life began filing into the Bridge, their wide eyes drinking deep of such sights as the administrative heart of the thalassocracy offered. A deep silence fell over the venue as the Chief Admiral ascended the dais. Opening with a comparison of our city-state to the Galadion that founded it, she went on to petition unity among all citizens in this period of turmoil.
As any hot-blooded sailor will attest, a gathering without incident is no gathering at all. By that measure, the ceremony qualifies with flying colors, for not long into the speech a gruff-looking pair of men—by all accounts, pirates—made to disrupt the proceedings. To their dismay, however, this served only to further impassion the Chief Admiral, who soldiered on unflinching, winning more hearts to her cause in the process. Having once led the unruly crew of the League of Lost Bastards, the woman plainly knew something of crowd control.
In this way the ceremony came to a close on a high note, with the Chief Admiral pledging to guide the vessel that is Limsa Lominsa safely through the storm. Her inspirational statements did much to allay anxiety, and this reporter was duly impressed. Yet it remains to be seen how well the crimson standard of the Maelstrom will fare against the might of the Empire. And even as the Garleans advance on Eorzea, disquieting rumors are rife that the Seventh Umbral Era is near at hand.
The collective hopes of the populace now rides upon the Chief Admiral's helmsmanship, and her decisions and actions in the days to come will be observed with great scrutiny.
Yumah Molkot
Harbor Herald - My Little Chocobo (25/10/2011)
There was once an ordinary little boy who came from a working-class family. His father was a fool of a man, a dockhand who squandered all the meager coin he earned on drink. Yet one blustery day, in an inexplicable fit of affection, the drunkard saw fit to gift his son with the object of his desire: a chocobo egg. Over the moons with joy, the boy went about tending to the life blossoming within with such singleness of mind as only children are capable of.
After a fortnight went by, however, what emerged from the confines of the shell was not a noble steed in the making, but a dodo chick nigh as round as the encasement that had held it. Struck dumb and racked with disappointment, the boy fell into the depths of depression, becoming still more disillusioned with the father in whom he had precious little faith from the first. In time, however, he came to appreciate that a chocobo was not an object within the means of a simple laborer, and learned to look back in fondness at his old man’s gesture.
Owing to its ideal natural environment, the Holy See of Ishgard has long been Eorzea's foremost producer of fine chocobos. Decades ago, however, the city-state began imposing harsh restrictions on exports, quoting a dwindling chocobo population. This led to a steep decline in the number of the birds across the continent, which was said to have plunged to as low as one to every fifty-score folk, giving rise to the fear that chocobos would vanish from the face of Eorzea entirely.
Avian lovers now have reason to rejoice, however, for some days ago it was announced that Ishgard will once more supply the other city-states with mounts. The move has raised many a smile upon the faces of rental stable operators, but much more is at stake than the prosperity of local businesses. The resumption of imports was made possible only through the joint effort of the Grand Companies of Eorzea, who impressed upon the Ishgardians the vital nature of fleet-footed reconnaissance units in dealing with the Garlean threat. So it was that the isolated mountain nation relented and agreed to provide all three Grand Companies with birds—but not without conditions. Reluctant to relinquish their monopoly on chocobo breeding, the Holy See will permit naught but male birds to leave its domain. In response, the other nations have raised their voices in objection, and are seeking to overturn what they deem a profit-driven decision in the midst of wartime.
Not waiting to see how the protest will unfold, the three Grand Companies have proceeded to make provision ahead of the gathering storm. At home, no sooner had word arrived of the return of chocobos than the Maelstrom commissioned Naldiq & Vymelli's with the mass production of reinforced barding in a bid to strengthen its military capacity on land. Jests can now be heard among sailors that the thalassocracy will finally have a cavalry to call its own.
To end on a personal note, the thought of majestic steeds in tight formation, arrayed in gleaming suits of armor, is enough to set this reporter's heart aflutter. Indeed, it was the very imagining thereof that put me in mind of my childhood—of my little chocobo that was not quite a chocobo, but whom I adored nonetheless.
Petyr Winsome
Harbor Herald - Adventurers in a Maelstrom (03/10/2011)
Just when one has gotten used to the incessant flapping and occasional snapping of the dragon galley ensign, the Maelstrom comes up with a new means to vex the populace: intensifying its recruitment drive. Spearheading the effort is a celebration dubbed Foundation Day, which entails posting barkers in the city-state whose obnoxious blaring puts one in mind of apkallus during breeding season. Suffice it to say the din rings like steel grating upon steel inside my poor noggin which, at the time of this article’s writing, is still swimming in ale imbibed the night before. And so today I delve into the Maelstrom’s agenda with a hint of peevishness.
It is scarce a secret that the brass hats of the Maelstrom have taken a fancy to adventurers. So much so, in fact, that it verges upon being an obsession. But why adventurers? What have those free spirits done besides the obvious - that is, adventuring - to warrant our undivided attention? The reason, dear readers, can be ascribed to our nation’s fondness for the sea.
As any Lominsan worth his salt will know, our nation's head-of-state is chosen from among the myriad pirating bands via a grueling contest called the Trident. Tradition decrees that the triumphant captain assumes the office of Admiral, while his crew becomes the fulcrum of Limsa Lominsa’s standing navy, the Knights of the Barracuda. Not only has this practice given rise to a proud maritime culture; it has also birthed what is arguably the mightiest armada ever to sail the five seas. However, this is not all bountiful plunder and fine weather. In casting our lot with the deep, we never quite found our - shall we say - land legs.
"But don't we have the Yellowjackets?" I hear some of you say. Yes, it is true that the Yellowjackets are an infantry unit. And yes, they keep the peace within and without the city, and do an admirable job of it besides. However, all-out warfare is quite a different beast, and we must ask ourselves how the armada would fare in protracted conflicts on land. I, for one, do not imagine it to be much prettier a sight than a fish out of water. And here is where adventurers come into the picture.
"What!?" I hear your baffled voice. "But those bloody landlubbers can't stand on deck for nary a bell without their guts turning inside out!" Mayhap the open sea ill agrees with the stomachs of most adventurers. However, this is precisely what makes them so valuable an asset to Limsa Lominsa. How many of us can boast having slogged it from one end of Eorzea to the other, traversing forest, mountain, and desert, all in the name of some trivial errand? This reporter is of the opinion that, in the course of their gallivanting, adventurers develop an affinity for land warfare that is second to none. In a rare show of insight and humility both, our higher-ups have conceded that naval might alone will not avail us in the conflict to come. And in seeking to caulk the hull that is the Lominsan Armada, their eyes came to a rest upon adventurers.
Perchance there are those weak of stomach who have taken offense at this article. If you happen to be one such delicate flower, then mayhap the Navigator's Veil, where insults fly ceaselessly and a man's worth is measured by his brawn, is not for you. If you can take a good-natured jibe on the chin and laugh it off, however, we have a Maelstrom uniform here with your name lovingly embroidered upon it.
A common enemy exists, and only in union can it be overcome. Let us fight, sailors and adventurers side by side, that we might taste the sweet stout of victory and together feel the pounding of hammer on anvil inside our heads the day after!
Yumah Molkot
Harbor Herald - Bombards Ablaze (08/08/2011)
Connecting all lands and peoples in her everlasting embrace, the sea bears to Limsa Lominsa the wisdom and voices of a thousand shores.
In today’s edition, The Harbor Herald takes a close look at the sea change that has been brought about by the appearance of a maelstrom…
Never take a pirate at his word. Theirs is a lot given to exaggeration and hyperbole—those of our own Lominsan waters not least of all. For something in the pirate mind compels them to lay claim to the greatest boast, no matter how unlikely or unbelievable. No doubt they would all swear before Llymlaen herself to having seen a sea serpent as long as a galleon, or a dazzling storm of shooting stars that light up the night as bright as day. Ever have these free souls of the seas told the most grandiose lies at every possible utterance, just as naturally as they cast their sails or row their oars. But such is not always the case, as I recently discovered…
Allow me to share with you a certain tale from the lands of Coerthas in the north, told to me by a pirate who earns his keep sailing up the White Maiden to sell off his plunder. The following words are his own, untouched by mine own quill.
“Aye, ’at bleedin’ meteor plopped down right there on the outskirts o’ Owl’s Nest, it did. ‘Fore I knew what was what, a bomb bigger’n an aldgoat rose up from that selfsame spot. Watched with me own eye as it took to eatin’ e’erything around it, growin’ bigger ‘n bigger all the while. Finally made its way right up to the gates of Ishgard, it did. Gahaha, I bet them fancy-as-you-please knights roastin’ in their armor made for a tender meal! Tell me they didn’t! Gaha- Hm? What else, you say? Not much, really. I heard them Ishgard folk are callin’ the thing a Bombard, but that’s all I know, Twelve take me if it ain’t.”
Were this but a sole account, perhaps it would be easy to dismiss as idle banter - the boastful stylings of some pirate raconteur. But what if I were to tell you that before ever speaking to this man, I had word from one of the Herald’s own correspondents in Ishgard? A man of unquestionable character, he claims that a tremendous explosion could be heard and felt throughout the city from the direction of the Gates of Judgment. Moreover, a number of fully armored knights were reported to have suffered severe burns, and a wave of heat washed over the entire city and lays there still now, plaguing the Ishgardians day in and day out.
By now no doubt all have heard of the Firefall Faire being prepared for in Eorzea’s cities. But tell me this - do you not find something strange about these festivities? Why, I ask, in the midst of these the year’s hottest days, must we be forced to look upon balloons fashioned in the likeness of bombs, and everywhere reminded of this unbearable heat from which we constantly seek even the briefest of respites?
And is it not a particular peculiarity that the Adventurers’ Guild, in dire straits as it is in recent days, has seen fit to affiliate itself with these so-called faire chaperones? Little and less of this faire sits well in the belly of this reporter…
One rumor maintains that said guild received an extremely generous boon from the city-states’ coffers in exchange for rallying adventurers to help eradicate these infernal bombs. And what of the balloons, then? All part of the plan, it would seem. Some go so far as to make them for decoys meant to deceive the eyes of these explosive monstrosities. Perhaps you thought yourself safe behind city walls? Perhaps you thought that such tales were no more than stories told by wetnurses to children in faraway lands? The fact remains that a meteor fell to Eorzea, and an outbreak of fiery chaos has followed in its wake. And as if that were not foreboding enough, I leave you with this final disquieting thought…
An entire storm of meteors has now been confirmed to have fallen in the vicinity of La Noscea.
Yumah Molkot
Harbor Herald - The Maelstrom in Ishgard (21/07/2011)
Change is afoot in Limsa Lominsa, and blind is the sailor who has failed to notice. While it is true that our city-state’s wharves are inherently dynamic places, ever-vibrant with the coming and going of vessels, folk, and freight, the changes of which I speak fall not into the daily norm.
The dragon galley has launched—the sleek, black craft on a field of red that is the ensign of the Maelstrom, Limsa Lominsa's recently revived Grand Company. Pennants bearing the oared dragon now snap and ripple across the city-state, raised at the behest of our military's brass hats. Their purpose: to kindle citizen morale. It would appear that our leaders have forgotten that Limsa Lominsa is a port of freemen. Did it not occur to them that such an overt display of jingoism would sooner wake a spirit of defiance within hot-blooded sailors than instill them with a sense of unity?
This brings me to a concern that has been hot on Lominsan lips of late: precisely how does Admiral Merlwyb mean to wield the might of the Maelstrom she has amassed at her fingertips? Not wishing to wait for the tide to wash the answer ashore, The Harbor Herald struck out to shed light upon the dark depths of uncertainty. Only through great difficulty and a stroke of good fortune were we able to obtain a top-secret document, the contents of which we now divulge to our readers in hopes of laying to rest the collective anxiety of the populace.
Attached is a confidential document sourced from the Maelstrom, painstakingly procured by our investigative team. We are given to understand that the knightly orders of the Holy See of Ishgard had been distributing copies of it to hired swords ahead of the operation to retake Dzemael Darkhold.
Being in the midst of construction, extensive sections of the Darkhold remain unwrought and unsecured. Nameless perils lurk in the shadows, and knights and hired swords alike are firmly warned against venturing beyond the bounds of the designated operation area.
Much remains beyond our knowing at present, such as the manner of traps the invaders may have laid. In light of the youngness of the hour, however, our strategists deem it unlikely that the enemy has had time to entrench itself in the Darkhold. Commit the strategy to memory and heed to the letter any orders given you, and together we shall prevail.
I. Chocobo Stable Entrance
Ishgardian miners were set upon and overwhelmed by firearm-bearing invaders in the midst of excavation. Casualties in excess of a score.
II. The Gullet
Murder holes and hidden compartments had been scheduled for construction. The invaders will not have overlooked the position’s potential for laying ambush.
III. Grand Hall Entrance
A point of strategic importance that leads to the Darkhold's innermost depths. The likelihood is distinct that the invaders will welcome us with an array of fiendish traps.
Any sailor worth his salt will have heard tell of Dzemael Darkhold, the subterranean fortress meant to become Ishgard's bastion in its unending war against dragons. According to the document, however, the Darkhold was handily seized by invaders noted to be of exceptional guile and equipped with firearms besides. Excluding Limsa Lominsa, only one nation boasts a military force that fits such a description: Garlemald. The information recently put forth by The Mythril Eye in its article "Disaster at the Darkhold" corroborates with this conclusion.
As it stands, one mystery remains: to what end does the Maelstrom possess knowledge of Ishgard's military secrets? Our analysts speculate that Chief Admiral Merlwyb seeks to gauge the Empire’s military capacity on the pretext of an investigation. Further, should the opportunity to claim occupation of Ishgard present itself, she is not like to decline it.
After nigh a score of centuries in repose, the Maelstrom, the Lominsan squadron of legend, finally raises anchor once more. But towards which horizon does it sail? Will it cast its might against the Garlean Empire in a showdown, or ride the tide of chaos to the shores of Eorzean domination? The answer, dear readers, will become apparent in the midst of the coming storm.
Yumah Molkot
