Lore:Faires
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Firefall Faire 2011
Smallest Flint Sparks Grandest Fire
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.
Moonfire Faire 2012
Risen from the Ashes?
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.
Traditional Dress the Key?
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.
