#ffxiv stories

[arbiterofthedead]

Communion

"To peer into the beyond is but a blessing and a curse... you must decide which is which."

Flickering green sprites came in and out of view as he sat in the center of an carefully drawn symbol that he had etched into the floor with white chalk, such was a common occurrence when he wanted to be alone for a spell or two.

Silence had fallen over the chamber as the Miqo'te listened for something that most could not even perceive, at least not without sufficient sensitivity. Eventually he could begin to hear the faintest of whispers in the dark, wayward souls who wished to retake what they had been deprived of...life.

Yet other voices offered strands of wisdom that had been lost to the ages, tales and ideals that were swept away in the natural tide of death. He would listen to these whispers with interest as he made a promise to himself to carry on these lessons that were once lost to time.

His thoughts drifted to the one whom he had taken under his wing, an inquisitive yet brash soul to be certain, was she even worthy of undergoing this venture that very few survive? Would she take these lessons and use them for perverted schemes? He knew not...

Even the whispers could not inform him on the potential future of this arrangement, as if their own insights were clouded for some reason, an unusual prospect to be faced with. Often the departed offered suggestion or wisdom but when it came to this matter? They were either silent or unsure.

There was much kept in the dark, where he expected to receive some otherworldly guidance...he received more questions than answers. Perhaps time would tell.

@the-sycophant

#ffxiv stories #writing

[aerial-elf]

WoL savior

#ffxiv #elezen #ff14 #ffxiv wol #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #warrior of light #my wol #gvennery #ffxiv cutscene #ffxiv stormblood #ffxiv stories #ffxiv stormblood spoilers #ffxiv aymeric #ffxiv estinien

[bloodstained-bard]

Prompt 6: Ring (FFXIV Write 2023)

Set Two Months prior to Envoy

—-

We are fated, you and I, to meet at the edges of the world and beyond, aren’t we?

The city was cooler that day than it had been in days. Dust still hung in the air, but the oppressive heat had abated to something bearable, at least. Most of the people wandering about carried on with their day in better moods than he’d seen in almost a fortnight. It was enough to leave him with a smile despite the growing nerves twisting in his chest. That familiar sensation had built the past few days culminating in him navigating the stone hallways from the Exchange and into the deeper heart of the city. Here the echoes of voices and the looming fountain bled together in a cacophony of sound that surrounded and invaded the senses.

It was a dizzying place to be in for even a moment, but days had passed since he’d arrived. Information, goods, and now one final piece of business had called him away from the shelter and comfort of his distant woods, away from her warmth. He reasoned that leaving was worth the risk, even for a short while, to try and discover who had set them on this path of destruction and murder. What had been a joyous few months had turned into a pitched battle for survival that had forced his small clan to retreat to their own home, to shelter behind wooden palisades and question what each day would bring. Ruin, or safety?

Banishing that somber thought, Vanric’s boots carried him deeper still until he found himself standing before the merchant's stall. His commission had been submitted weeks ago by courier, and now the moment of truth had come. “Ah, Mister Retelle was it? Welcome back sir, I assume you’re here to pick up your order?”

Nodding as he drew close, Vanric laid a hand to the edge of the counter with a glint in his eyes, and an uncharacteristically jovial smile to his lips. “I am. I know you said it would be another day but I thought one extra wouldn’t hurt. So…?”

Sileas’ smile was confirmation enough and after a bit of digging, she retrieved a small, wooden box and laid it onto the counter.

“I have it just here for you, sir. You know…I don’t often make a habit of asking but the particular nature of this commission, I have to ask is it..?”

A conspiratorial light drew into the Elezen’s gaze as he peeked back at her and he idly brushed a finger across the surface of the box. Unable to keep from glancing inside he slipped the top open, and felt the breath leave him in a sigh. His expression sobered, and his fingers hovered above the small gift inside for a few moments.

“Sir..? Is everything alright?” Drawn from that brief reverie he glanced up at once, surprised by his own absentmindedness. “Forgive me, yes, it’s…perfect. Exactly as I envisioned it…I just…seeing it in person..Thank you, and please pass along my thanks to the rest of the artisans. This…well I’m sure you hear this quite a bit but this means the world to me. Thank you. Now I just need to get it delivered.”

He watched her raise a hand to stifle the little laugh that escaped, and the warm smile veiled behind it. With a gracious bow of her head she wished him well along with a hope he’d return to do business with them again. As he slipped away, through the dizzying spirals of the inner courtyards, the stone pathways leading out into the morning sun, he tucked that small box away keeping it safely nestled in his satchel. It would take another two days to return home, but now that he had everything he needed, they’d pass swiftly enough.

But fate can be as cruel as it is giving…

He’d come to her that day clad in traveling leathers, bow at his back, and a small box held in one hand. What words they shared in parting were spoken letting the wind carry them to the horizon, and the gift was offered. Within a thin wooden box, in a bed of soft lavender cloth, was an earring that glinted in the morning light. A small bar of spun silver twisted together to form a pointed loop, at its top a trio of crimson flowers. 

Their surface was vaguely reflective, the tempered glass drinking in the light to give the appearance of morning dew on the petals, and adorning each in the middle was a single lavender-colored pistol. Beneath the flowers lay a small bronze chain that hung loose, a single strand of crimson hair braided along its length. A tiny translucent crystal shaped like a teardrop clung to the end of the chain glittering in the morning light, and drinking in the glow to cast various colors within. 

“We began on separate paths.”

A hand rose to gesture towards the silver band, following its path to where the loop began.

“And together were wonderful…now we move on separate paths again.”

He slowly curled his finger to follow the diverging path that wound to beneath where the flowers bloomed.

“To one day join again and fulfill a promise. You showed me there is more to the world than the walls I surrounded myself with and called it freedom. I intend to know this new world, to gaze upon it with fresh eyes, and one day…return to you with those stories and make good on my word.”

He drew a breath, swallowing only once before speaking again.

“Until then keep this with you. If you ever have need of me..no matter when, or where, or why…you need only speak to it and I will hear you, and I will come. Until we meet again..”

One final gesture was left; a small kiss laid atop her head in a bed of lavender, a small breath, and then he turned to take the steps that would carry him into that new world.

#ffxiv write #ffxiv write 2023 #ffxiv #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv rp #ffxiv stories #ffxiv writing #my oc #prompts #roleplay

[coeureina]

Don't Miss.

It is Zero’s turn to teach Izani something.

#ffxiv #ffxiv wol #ffxiv oc #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv stories #zerowol #ishanvistories #OTP: Izero #zero ffxiv #zero x wol #ff14 zero #ffxiv zero

[antiquated-dust]

Seeing is Believing

Max turned the vial between her fingers, its contents casting a faint, crimson glow. The shop was dark and dusty, lined with a layer of comforting silence. Tobacco smoke hung thick in the air. She felt at home among the oddities, rarities, and antiquities of Grimorium Verum. Or as close to home as she would allow.

“You’re awfully quiet, Bato.” Max’s fingers closed around the vial, sealing away its light and ethereal warmth. “Gil for your thoughts?”

She stole a fox-quick glance over her shoulder. And there, framed by towers of decrepit books and obelisks of junk she found the greatest antique inside Grimorium Verum. A raisin of a lalafell  hunched over the sandstone counter, milky gaze narrowed through a thick veil of smoke. Grey hair hung limp over his shoulders, left to grow wild and unruly. A black coeurl made fat and lazy laid on the counter next to him. Chirped when the man gave its belly an absent pat.  His lips shriveled into a deeper scowl. The pipe hanging from them bobbed when he muttered.

“Nothin’ important.”

“Same as usual, then.”

Max’s laughter died prematurely when Bato remained quiet. Not even a twitch to hint that she’d been heard. She cleared her throat, gaze flitting to the curio cabinet. A mental note was made: whenever the opportunity presented itself, she’d drag that old sense of humor under the table and smother it.  

“Anyroad- I have something for you.” The vial was returned to its home on the rack. A placard beneath it labeled the vials in thick, black letters - Voidsent Blood. Max reached into her jacket, procuring from its folds a velveteen pouch. She hovered uncertainly. Then tossed the pouch onto the counter. “Happy Starlight.”

Bato’s eyes flicked down to the pouch. Smoke rolled over his lips as he barked a humorless laugh. “Starlight?” - withered fingers curled into the plush fabric- “Heh. Ain’t ya’ just sweet.” He slid the pouch into a drawer, then returned his attention to Max. Stared at her through wire-thin brows. She knew that look very well. It was a look that demanded no nonsense.

So, she tried again.

“I need a favor.”

“O’ course ya’ do.”

“This one is different.” Max’s hand slipped into her jacket once more. This time, she retrieved a slip of parchment.

Bato upturned his nose with a chuff. “Different my ass.”

The note was slid across the counter, pinned beneath her finger. Her voice dipped into a gentle hush as she leaned forward. “Please, Bato.”  

The lalafell grew still and quiet, milky gaze burning a hole into the paper. A sly smirk drew across Max’s lips as she withdrew her hand with aching slowness. It felt good to win.

Bato remained silent a moment more before relinquishing a defeated sigh. He fumbled with the note. Read it over once. Then gave a curt nod. From its resting spot against the counter, he retrieved a wooden cane. A few hobbled steps brought him to the curio cabinet beyond the desk. “Curse th’ day I made that promise t’ ya’ father,” he grumbled as he began plucking jars from their shelves, “ ‘Twixt the two o’ ya’, m’ gonna be bled dry.”

“Oh. You’ve seen him recently?” Max propped either elbow on the counter, watching the Lalafell measure spoonfuls of fluorescent powder onto a scale. The warmth that crept into her smile almost felt instinctual. “And what exactly is my little brother up to these days?”

Bato hesitated. Threw a weary look over his shoulder before tapping off the excess powder from the spoon. “Shovin’ his nose where it doesn't belong.” From a drawer, he procured a draw-string bag. As an afterthought, he added, “Came ‘round here lookin’ for ya’ again.”

“I see.”

The powder was scraped from the scale and dumped into the bag. He sealed it with a taut pull of its strings. “He knows, kiddo.”

The air felt suddenly cooler, and the shadows appeared much darker. Max stepped away from the counter. Found a home for her twitching hands in the comfort of her pockets. “How much?”

“Mo’e than he ought to know. Enough t’ ask the right questions…”

Max drew in a quiet breath and held it until she could feel her pulse in her ears. When she finally spoke, she cringed at how weak her voice sounded in the open air. “Did you tell him?”

Bato’s nose crinkled at the question, lips curled to reveal a picket fence of plaque. “Told him the last I saw of Maxinora was on a boat set for Kugane.” He dropped the draw-string bag upon the counter. “An’ nothin’ mo’e.”

Inklings of relief seeped into Max’s fingers as she reached for the bag. After a moment, she mustered a quiet- “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

Max met Bato’s gaze. She still remembered a time when he looked upon her with warmth. When her puckish antics merited begrudging smiles and smoke-tinged laughter. Cold indifference warped his eyes into something far paler and more distant. He was peering through Max as though she were made of air. In this shop she called home, she was little more than a shadow on the wall.

“I did it for him,” the Lalafell sighed, “He’s finally findin’ some happiness. An’ he sure as shit doesn’t need you fuckin’ it up for him.” Bato plucked the pipe from his lips, dumping the ash into an awaiting tray. “He’s better off without you.”

She didn’t need to hear it from him.

She already knew it. Repeated it to herself until the words tasted foreign on her tongue. As if she could form a callus thick enough to withhold against its bitter sting.

Hearing it and knowing it were one thing. But seeing it with her own eyes was another.

Merriment lined the streets of Ul’dah by way of strung-up lights and Starlight sentinels. Vendors’ pockets were fat and deep from the seasonal bustle. Children were made gleeful by the mounds of snow pocketing the curbs. Warmth filled the air as couples meandered through the night, hand-in-hand. And above all the wonder and delight rose a note of laughter.

A sound she knew better than her own heart beat.

She picked him out of the crowd, though it took a few tries. He was taller than she remembered. More broad of shoulder. The missing tip of his ear was also new. As was his steady gait. She’d recognize those eyes anywhere, even if they gleamed with confidence she knew he wasn’t born with.

When did it all change? 

He wore a bright smile unlike any he’d ever donned. A smile that was unafraid to exist beyond the confines of his cheeks, becoming more teeth than eyes. It was one of growing happiness, much as the sun peeks through an overcast sky. It came from deep inside him. A morsel of his own soul offered in the most gentle of fashions. And she heard it, too, in his voice. In his choice of words. In the way he relaxed in the presence of that white-haired Au ra.

Max watched from afar, hidden in the recess of an alley, as A’gust and his companion disappeared into the crowd. How happy he seemed to be these days.

Much happier without his sister.

But she already knew that

#dribble #drabble #ffxiv stories #ffxiv character #Max Parkhurst #IC Stories #| The Alchemist |

[destiny-islanders]

haven't beaten ffxvi yet, excited to get to the part where the dog flies

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxvi #final fantasy xvi #no spoilers for either game #the crossover gives no story explanation for why wol gets a flying torgal lol #clive rosfield #torgal #destiny doodles #destiny comics

[shakirashakira]

#ffxiv stories

[neneru-nowhere]

For Whom do you Walk

The aetheryte drifted slowly above her, emanating soft light. Everything about it, from the color to the pleasant chime it gave off should have been friendly and inviting. Instead, it filled made the bile in Neneru’s stomach churn. Her company partners were gone now, passed through the crystal and on to Ul’dah. It truly was a wonder of magic--a spatial miracle. Instantaneous travel between two points, as long as you’d attuned with the respective aetherytes. Magic rarely left the little mage in anything but awe.

This was another matter. She knew they were waiting on the other side, expecting the smallest of their party to appear any moment. But she couldn’t bring herself to reach out and focus her own aether on the crystal’s resonance. There were good reasons to prefer travel the old fashioned way, even if it took weeks to reach your destination. And what was so great about instantaneous travel anyway? All it did was make the world smaller, suck some of the wonder and adventure out of it.

“You’re making excuses again,” she chided herself.

Neneru took a deep breath. It was the moment before pulling out a stitch, before jumping in cold water, before giving unpleasant news. And she began the spell.

As the aether that made her started to loose its bonds, she lifted into the air. The world faded and that chiming increased louder, louder, louder. The world became nothing but that soft chime, screaming and unending. And then light and life washed everything out.

In Ul’Dah, Neneru dropped to her hands and knees. She wanted to puke, but she’d eaten nothing. This always happened and she’d long learned her lesson. Her stomach turned inside out and all she could spit up was a little pill of foamy stomach acid. Instead of a gut-relieving hurl, it was a grating burp, sharp like a saw dragging on the back of her throat.

“Neneru! Are you alright?” Bode, the conjuror dropped beside her. Azaeric and Towering Maple joined. Maple, the largest of the three, hauled Nene up with little more effort than a laundry basket and set her back on her feet.

“Sorry, sorry,” she waved away her companions. “I’ll be well. Puss and Pas-” she urped “--passion. I hate teleportation so much.”

“Do you need healing?”

“No!” The panic was unmistakable. Stiffly, Neneru backed away from the others. The last thing I need is dumping more aether on this mess. She schooled her voice back to calm. “No, thankyou Bode. I’ll be alright.”

Turning her back to the others, she clenched her gut in her hands and sucked in deep lungfuls of the hot Thanalan air. “Go on without me. I’ll join you at the Den later.”

At least reliable alchemists were easy to find with the guild located nearby. Bettery living through alchemy seemed like a good motto for the moment.

#ffxiv arr #ffxiv art #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv stories #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy online #ishgard #ul'dah

[icicleteeth]

The young fisherman took the esteemed guildmaster Wawalago's cheeky advice of "A fisher's most important boone is his drink" very literally...

#ffxiv #au ra #that's the story i came up with to explain this when in reality i just wanted to draw a green thing...

[maelgwyn]

I'm suffering, I'm having a great time

#ffxiv #ffxiv memes #I made this #This story just hits you over and over right in the heart huh #There are very few characters I HATE. most of the villains just make me so so sad #And I love that #I want more stories like this #And I am having a good time truly #This game is just really taking me through it goddamn

[battlecrazed-axe-mage]

I’ve never played FFXIV, but based on your posts I have to assume it’s a gay lil dressup game with a surprisingly good story.

That, without exaggeration, is a 100% precisely accurate description of the critically acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV

#fashion is endgame #always #but the story is pretty amazing and you can make it pretty gay depending on your characterization #ffxiv #ff14

[nerdpoe]

guys i'm sorry i've been struck with a crack prompt idea and i have to write it you don't udnerSTADN

Danny accidentally bumps into Pandora's box.

He immediately closes it! It was closed immediately! Super quick! NBD!!!

Except one plague hopped out in that half second it was open.

Danny doesn't even realize he caught it until he pops back to the Mortal realm and goes into his human form.

He passes the mirror in the lab and....those are cat ears. That's a cat tail.

His hands shake.

Maybe it's just him. Maybe he can plead being a meta.

He takes out his phone and checks the news.

In the two hours he's been gone, roughly half the population of humans on the planet are now cursed with cat ears and cat tails.

Justice League is looking into a way to reverse the curse.

Danny looks at the mirror and goes ghost.

Completely human.

Goes human.

Cat ears and cat tail.

Meanwhile, in another state, Jason barricades himself in his apartment.

None of them can ever find out. None of them can ever find out. NONE OF THEM CAN EVER FIN-

Jason thinks he's the only bat who woke up with cat ears and a cat tail.

#neko au #blame ffxiv for this okay #fml #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #story prompt #phanfic #jason in the middle of freaking out #cass just APPEARS like she do and touches the tail #jason's scream is high enough that cass's ears ring #gonna give damian a treat and say he gets it too #u know he'd be absolutely OBSESSED with using the cat ears and tail to communicate with Alfred the Cat better #kid over here just casually trying to learn animal language

[ryuucae]

Sorry for recent absence! I have been working on a project with @fivebrights and can finally share my illustrations for our collaboration story, "To be Spared the Wheel" - a HythHades story based on the Orpheus/Eurydice myth (so...bring your tissues)

You can read the full story here! The illusts posted here are also only previews, so the full images are embedded in Mara's story. Please take a look at the AO3 link if you would like to see them properly :)

#ff14 #ffxiv #hythlodaeus #emet selch #hythhades #art #digital art #illustration #writing #This has been a passion project for months #We'd love to hear if you enjoyed the story!

[aurelienjardineaux]

In Duty, Purpose

  The snowy fields of the Coerthan Highlands were stained with the essence of fallen compeers: Ishgard was on the verge of societal collapse at the hands of its draconic foes from Dravania… those who yet smote at the gates of Ishgard would deal a devastating blow to Foundation, the Brume in tow. Many memorialized statues of Knights of Renown would lay crumbling, defaced by wyrms and their tremendous aerial assault. The rays beyond clouds overcast pierced through the dark, letting through slivers of its holy light on the desecrated battlefield below. Lord Faustin’s retinue lie haplessly on the ground outflanked by the winged cur who would see the lives of men extinguished—The Lord of House de Jardineaux’s magnificent armor gleamed in what little light it could purchase, his warworn frame held taut the grand bow his shot from singing a song of swift precision as it met with Lord Faustin’s now lifeless remains.

Within the trenches dug comrades-in-arms huddled together to shelter themselves from the bloodbath. Bridge seventeen was one of many that bridged the moat that separated the surrounding land of Drachenmoor keep. There was something unforgiving about the innate precision and mental acuity Ishgardian military had over the dragonkith: the arrows flying towards the Ishgardian push were meticulously set ablaze by Ishgardian Thaumaturges with calculated efficacy. Bolts were bent by towershields, raising bulwarks seemingly out of nowhere. While their brethren, warriors of the green unseen by the primitive stock of the draconic army, saw to it that none who dare peek over the parapet escape their lethal poisoned daggers.

The terrifying might of the lance-bearing dragoons ripped and dismembered the comparably larger bodies with ease, like a fisherman in gentle season pulling off limbs of a dead crayfish for sale.Among the soldiers of the onslaught was Aurelien, resplendent in his military-issued Temple Knight armor. His pauldrons bore the symbol of the Order and his halberd an heirloom from long past. In a clash and clang of swords, teeth, nail and claw he sought fights that seemed nearly impossible to win. The elfin Temple Knight swung in windstance. Fast sweeping strike like the aquiline swoop of a predator, both graceful and terrifying. He felled many a heretic around his form, forming a ring of death as the bodies piled around him. You would always find him in the heart of the action, for he –unlike his brother Alois—wasn’t for chairs and lavish celebratory banquets—mere ceremonious in nature, masking the ugly face of wartorn lands.

Rumor had spread through the ranks of the Order of a certain young knight of House Jardineaux precariously pushing forward with unprecedented aggression yet conspicuously avoiding certain death. Members of his company and beyond had vouched for their compeer: arrows seemed to nearly miss him, his form was ever adaptive to the fight before him. The youth of only eighteen winters, he set his gaze heavensward, to the dragoons that flew past the skies. The thrill of battle numbed the thunder of his beating heart, blood singing as the heat rose from his gauntleted feet to the very tips of his arrow pointed ears. His piercingly cerulean hues danced from man to man as he cried out swinging his sword in a crescent sweep with such force that it maimed a few while slashing through the bodies of who dared to approached his blindside….

#ffxiv rp #ffxiv mateus #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv ishgard #ffxiv ishgardian #ffxiv elezen #elezen #ffxiv stories

[coeureina]

𝖨'𝗆 𝖧𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖭𝗈𝗐.

Estinien wants to be sure that Izani’s safety remains above all else.

#ffxiv #ffxiv wol #ffxiv oc #ishanvistories #zerowol #ff14 #ffxiv endwalker #gposers #gpose #ffxiv stories #ffxivmods #ffxiv gpose #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv screenies #estinien varlineau #OTP: Izero #zero ffxiv #zero x wol #ff14 zero #ffxiv zero

[tritoch]

i know a lot of people (very understandably) dislike the paladin job quests in ffxiv, particularly HW, but i do think it's fun that, now that the pre-ShB MSQ revamp is complete, paladins now have a very cool and thematic in-game storyline that happens without a word being spoken: the development of passage of arms.

none of the below is directly stated in the script, but imo it's a fairly obvious gloss on what the game presents, if you assume a paladin warrior of light. spoilers for all expansions through the end of 6.X.

in the new version of steps of faith, as vishap breaks through each ward protecting ishgard from attack, lucia mounts a final desperate effort to hold him back, with a very familiar looking animation:

but even lucia can't hold back vishap's flame alone, so the temple knights surge forward to assist her. their efforts make the shield visually more powerful and larger. the temple knights here band together in defense of ishgard, and their knightly resolve to protect their home is the difference between victory and defeat.

lucia and the knights do ultimately succeed in defending the last ward, as you have to defeat vishap before their shield falls or you lose.

later in heavensward, obviously, we will get ffxiv's most famous (failed) attempt at blocking something with a shield.

this moment can be read as fairly impactful on the warrior of light's development; as i've noted elsewhere, after the trauma of watching haurchefant bleed out in their arms at level 57, at level 58 paladins learn to channel their magic into healing (and it's called "clemency," or mercy. mercy for whom? who was guilty?), and as someone pointed out on that post, at level 58 dark knights used to get "sole survivor", letting them heal in response to a marked target's death.

for a time, you literally carry haurchefant's shield with you, and 3.3 very much literalizes in genre fashion the idea that even when you are standing alone, your fallen friends stand with you. you don't need to call any allies to stand at your side and raise their shields with you because they are already there, in spirit.

stormblood marks a pretty important turning point in the warrior of light as a combatant, in my opinion, and the text makes this clear in several ways. first, in pretty much all your jobs, you've now far exceeded your trainers and are pioneering new techniques. this is no less true of paladin, which for 60-70 abandons any trainers at all for you to show off your peerless skills in a tournament.

second, stormblood is straight up a story about you getting stronger. at level 61, zenos kicks your ass. at level 70, you kick his ass. why? because you fought and got stronger and developed incredible new techniques and became a one-man army.

for a lot of classes, this story lines up nicely with the big rotation changes or flashy new finishers on the way from 60 to 70. SMN is now busting out bahamut and casting akh morn; RDM gets verflare and verholy; DRG starts harnessing nidhogg's power directly through dragon sight and nastrond.

the tanks are divided in two: warriors and gunbreakers get huge damaging upgrades at 70 in the form of inner release and continuation, each of which lets them hit the same button many times for lots of damage and satisfying animations. paladin and dark knight get more protective abilities; dark knight gets the blackest night, and there's been plenty said about that already by pretty much everyone.

paladins get passage of arms. instead of a relentless new attack (and you get requiescat at 68, which is a way bigger deal for your dps rotation), your big reveal at 70 for zenos in your fight in ala mhigo is a superior way to protect your party, a shield that lets you stand for your allies so they never have to fall for you again. it's lucia's same shield, except you need no allies' shields to reinforce you, proof of your martial prowess and your ability to transcend limits, and perhaps in truth a reminder that you never really stand alone.

in many respects passage of arms should really feel like a paladin signature move to you now if you are playing it at this point, because you should be popping it in pretty much every fight (you are using your mits, right...?). basically every FFXIV fight has at least one big AOE with downtime that warrants passage of arms usage, usually after the mid-fight add phase with slowly filling bar. since that AOE usually drops during downtime, there's no reason not to pop passage of arms (which otherwise restricts your movement and actions), and even on normal, sometimes every little bit counts on a damage check even if it means dropping DPS (thinking here of harrowing hell P10N on release, which was...less consistent for a lot of roulette parties than you might hope).

so from 70 onward, passage of arms is in a sense a paladin warrior of light's signature move, and certainly the one a player gets to most actually enjoy (since if you're using it, you're by necessity not doing anything besides moving your camera and admiring your sick animation). it doesn't have any competition in terms of spectacle until confiteor, and those you're usually throwing out in the middle of movement.

it's such a signature, in fact, that the only other person shown using your one-person version of passage of arms is your greatest admirer, who studied your legend for over a century.

and it's when he fails (should've popped arm's length, bud) that the warrior of light decides they can't let their friends fall for them, and sends them away with the transporter beacon. this is all wrong: you were meant to die for them, not the other way around. yours is the shield that stands between your allies and defeat. it is you who will win this passage of arms and break your opponents lance. and you do.

and then later, when they need to quickly establish zero's domain as a place of fallen grandeur, the home of someone who once believed in heroes but is now a cool and cynical vampire hunter d, what do they use? a decayed statue of someone in the paladin endwalker gear doing the passage of arms animation, of course.

from a visible instantiation of knighthood as a joint effort to defend what is sacred, to a tribute to the fallen friends whose memories stand by you and animate you, to a symbol of the wol's power as emulated by their allies or darkly mirrored in other shards.

not bad for a mit button you hit once per fight and otherwise never think about!

#the one-handed passage of arms animation is from a mod that afaik is no longer available #it was junjou laina's eikonic paladin mod but the creator appears to have pulled the version i used #pld #ffxiv #the new steps of faith is a solo duty and there's no way i'm doing all that NG+ for two screenshots #so i got those from youtube (sources in the links) #haurchefant greystone #g'raha tia #lucia junius #tbh i'm corny so i was slightly miffed when g'raha jacked our paladin swag to do passage of arms in an important story cutscene #so placing it in context as him emulating you made me enjoy it a lot more lmao. i'm petty!