recursal/Fanatic-Fandom huggingface dataset:
Writing Prompts Archive/4/Meralda Swiftspear

*Meralda was stumbling through Pearl Lane, with her red strands of hair freely sprinkling all around her head. Her strut was rather inconsistent and chaotic. A couple of shady catcallers has attracted her attention:*

Catcaller A: *whistle* "Hey, beautiful? Should you be here at this hour?"

Meralda [mumbling]: "Eh... I.. Me walkin' 'ome."

Catcaller B: "Perhaps we should show you the way, hehe."

Meralda: "Go a-away, k-k-creepy..."

Catcaller A: "Well that isn't nice, lady."

*Catcaller grabed Meralda's wrist, madly grinning at her. Meralda looked wildly back at him, through her crismon strands, trying to break free. When she notices that the other one started to reach for her, she quickly punted the first one right between his legs, then she drunkenly leant against the other, danced around him, pushed him against the wall, then grabbed him by his clothes and head and hit him against the wall again. Once the both men have been neutralized, she continued to shuffle along her way, until she saw a few Brass Blades, laughing and drinking the night away. She attracted their attention to her, speaking almost seductively:*

Meralda: "Hey, boys! It seems I took a wrong turn and got lost. Could you help a poor girl out?"

*One of the Brass Blade grinned at her and beckoned her to come over.*

Brass Blade: "Of course, lass. We will take care of you, hehe..."
Writing Prompts Archive/4/Kieo Exodin

*“Thank you so much, Kieo, sir!” The child handed him a flower and hurried back to her parents side, the group leaving together. It brought a smile to his face, watching them leave happy after what they'd gone through.*

*The click of familiar short heels on the paving stones, approaching him from behind. Kieo smiled brighter as he turned around.*

*“You really are a hero, huh?” The hyur was lean and strong, long deep brown hair tied back in a messy bun.*

*“I wouldn't steal your title like that!”*

*The hyur laughed, stopping in front of the taller man to gently take the flower. Kieo knowingly crouched, so the man could tuck the flower into Kieo’s own long hair.*

*“I’m no hero quite yet, green bean. Look how many people you helped today.”*

*“I couldn't just not help them..”*

*“That's why you're a hero. And lying to yourself, my love.” The hyur fixed Kieos hair and patted his face before letting him stand properly again. The cold metal of his engagement ring was still so unfamiliar, a recent addition, but welcome.*

*“Redan, I told you..”*

*“This is your passion. You should go for it. Forget all the adventuring business, that's not you.. I know you want to be an investigator, so do it!”*

*“..And lose my main source of income?”*

*“I’m here, Kieo. I can support both of us until word spreads, and then you'll be famous..!”*

*They laugh together, Kieo’s hands in Redan’s.*

*“I won't be famous.”*

*“You could be. But you will be happy as an investigator.”*

*“..I know. That's definitely okay?”*

*His arms wrapped around the shorter man, leaning to rest their foreheads together in a simple affectionate moment. A sign of their trust and support for one another.*

*“More than okay. You'll be happy, and you can help so many people..!”*

*“I hope so..”*

*“You're gonna be great, Kieo.”*
Black john

black john is an enemy that helps corrupted\_john in red john 4.

## apearance

hes a fuzion of the difrrent john's from garfelf. his body and head is from garfelf 2, his mouth and eyes design is from garfelf 5 (robotic disaster) and his hands and ruler are from garfelf 1.

## story

he was a part off the john family, and did lots of bad stuff when he was a kid. when he was 16, he fell in a dark, dark pit and died. hes now a demon, reprecented as a demon of guilt. but in red john 4 corrupted\_john brought him back, and now hes coming for you. if you try hard, you can change him back and make him help you.

## gallery

front view off his demon form.front view of his good form.
Writing Prompts Archive/1/Kazenone Alagar

*The bell chimed softly as the door to Antiqua Alagari opened, a new arrival. Rufus stirred slightly on the counter, a beady eye opening to assess the patron before closing in apathy and settling back down.*

*"I'll be with you in just a moment", called Mr. Alagar from a back room, dusting himself off and stepping out with his best retail-smile on. "Welcome to Antiqu... Oskar?!"*

*The Roegadyn swung round from the Hingan plate armour display with a grin like a well-fed lion. "Stumpy! Shit is good t' see ya! Man this's fancy-like, what poor bastard didya whack for alla this?"*

*14 years on, and he's still as rough around the edges as the day they first got paid. Ostyrkhra Syhrabyl to give him his full name, but too many syllables to simple mercenaries.*

*"Hold on, i'll close the shop and grab some ales. How have you been? What are you doing back here?"*

*"Aye, been well. Keepin' my belly full and silver in me pock'ts. Heard you'd settled down an all, got yaself married didya?"*

*"Well I got myself retired from that life, but no, not married! Not sure where you heard that one from... I've been enjoying things at a slower pace. After the last gig we had I decided to try finding a buyer for the coins rather than selling them off to Fence. Turned out he wasn't being too honest about the worth of half the loot we grabbed. Glad to see you're doing well, old friend. Have you heard much from the others?"*

*Oskar tilted his head and scratched the side, the weight of memory grinding his mental cogs almost audibly.*

*"Prushka... last I heard she went chasin' dragons. Some hefty coin on the line there, but ain't worth yer life. Ain't heard from her in few years now. Jamis though, Jamis took a job nobody ain't touching, and just kinda... vanished. Bunch of rumours flew round about it for a bit but, just nothing..."*

*Silence hung in the air for a moment, the details sinking in. Reflecting on this, Kazenone raises his bottle.*

*"To absent friends then"*

*"Aye, t' absent friends"*
Artifacts of the Ancients

Pre-War artifacts are universally rare and valuable, but are otherwise indescribably varied. The following is a selection of some of these artifacts, though many others exist. The prices listed are the average cost of one of these artifacts on the open market, but individual artifacts may bring much higher or lower prices, depending on circumstance.

## Types of Artifact

Pre-War Ranged Weapons

Pre-War Melee Weapons

Pre-War Armor

General Artifacts
Writing Prompts Archive/11/Myst Fulgar

*It hadn't really given him time to think. It had all happened in seconds really. He had pulled on his aether tethering it to theres in a brief moment to pull himself closer. Landing just in front of the body of Rayne as he hardened his mana like a shield. The force of the katana bouncing off it made the figure stumble back.*

*This man...the prince of his old home...eyes that reflected no life just hunger for an opponent. He felt so small compared to him. Gathering his staff the runes lit up around his feet. Like laylines but different. The one spell he had learnt but had promised not to cast unless he had too. One cast though...surely that would stop this man….no one else would get hurt.*

*He could hear someone screaming behind him to stop. But it was too late to stop now. The staff white hot in his hand as the primordial magic channeled through it. His own veins felt hot. As he felt like lightning was coursing through his body. He eyes alight as he pointed the staff towards the monster in front of him. It was time to end it once and for all. No one else had to die after this moment…*

*"Zettaflare!"*

*His body felt on fire as he felt the raw magic course through him. It was like watching his veins turn to liquid lava glowing red hot under his skin. Squinting through the pain he saw the staff in his hands crack slowly crumbling in his hand.*

‘Nana…..I’m sorry…’  He thought as the last of his magic drained with the spell. As the blaze slowly faded his staff fell breaking into pieces around him, The gift bestowed to him. His knees collapsed as he looked from his hand that was disintegrating like ash to infront of him. His breath catching in his throat.

*Damaged yes...but the monster of a being stood there still. His ultimate spell…. Had been mostly deflected. Looking to his hand to see his body slowly turning into ash, two coloured eyes looked up to meet the figure walking toward him.*

*‘Ah…. I guess I was right….I am no hero after all….’ He closed his eyes bracing his fate with a sad smile.*

“I truly am an idiot…” He murmured ears low as he heard the slight whistle of air as the sword was raised.

‘Forgive me everyone….I let you down…Please...don’t be sad...’

The last thing he thought as the blade came down.
Writing Prompts Archive/11/Josuke Sulyvahn

*Since starting my butler work at Her embrace. It's not easiest jobs i took. Yet is has to be the best i ever took. If i go back a year or more. Would have laughed if somebody came and offered me a job as a butler. Mad Jackal of Ul’dah, Working as a butler would have been a joke of the year. Yet here i am..*
I find myself thinking. If this is all just a dream. Just some illusion. Waking up back in Ul’dah As that man i still hate and fear. Man who caused shit and crossed so many in his path filled with violence and madness. Still serving the bosses like an loyal mutt.

Path i took after i painted walls red with the man who hurt my sister…

I don't regret what i did to that noble shitstain. I don't regret what i did to his family after murdering my father and burning down my home. But i regret what path i took that after that.

*I did things i can't even write down. Path that took almost everything i had.*
People i dared to care were taken away. People who means world to me was almost placed in situations where nobody should be put in. I lost my eye because i tried to give a better life to one i loved. I even lost my own flesh and blood due one of my bosses had a grudge. Child i never were allowed to meet or talk to.

Honestly Who would want to find out im his or hers father.

I saw myself as a man who never deserved another chance. Yet few gave it to me and it's something i can't be thankful enough. Best way to pay the kindness back is to work hard and to keep old me away. Yet i can't shake the feeling. Feeling knowing how i'll meet my end.

Back than. I thought i'll get stabbed by an rival gang. Die in streets of Ul’dah.

*Now… One day. Somebody i fucked over finds me here. Living the dream. Somebody who holds grudge. Come and take his or hers revenge. Ending my life in slowly and painfully.*

If that ever happens. I won't go down without a fight.
Writing Prompts Archive/4/Morgana Browne

*"I was a new recruit to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. I only joined because I was told that they could tell me more of the Echo... I was sent, along with Gilka, to Camp Drybone in Thanalan to investigate a series of crimes. We figured out what was going on, and set up an ambush.... only to be ambushed ourselves.*

*The took us back to their lands and broke us into two groups. Gilka and I were separated. They took my group to the Bowl of Embers first. There were several soldiers, including the ones who had betrayed us. I was forced to watch as they summoned Ifrit; forced to watch as he, despite their begging, breathed his flame upon us. It washed over me like a summer breeze... but ... When I turned, none of them were of their own minds anymore. It was the first time I had seen anyone tempered... I turned back... and the primal was shocked. His followers didn't understand. He said that my mind belonged to another... and then said that I must die...*

*And then there I was... just him and me in a circle of fire. I only had Ame, my amethyst carbuncle, to defend me. She kept me strong with shields as I fought and dodged  and pressed.... Until by some miracle, I emerged victorious. It was not long until Gilka arrived back with Thancred. Both were surprised, but overjoyed that I was okay... But I will never forget their cries... nor the change.... nor the realisation that I had a gift that meant I could protect people.*

*Back in my village, most were content to watch and record history... were glad that families from the New Sharlayan settlement returned home instead of interfering. But it was in that moment that I realised that if I did nothing, I would change the course that fate had plotted. Regardless of what they thought... though my parents are of a slightly different mind, I had to help. I still have to help. I can help make this world a much better place than it has been. And so that is what I have tried to do, on every step of my journey. Make sure I leave things a little better than before I came, wherever I can."*
23 mars 4799

**3 mars 4799** est une année au japon qui va changer de bon nombre de produit de N Tmc.

**4799年3月3**日是日本的一年，它将改变**N Tmc**的许多产品。

Le passage de 4799 à 4800 sera surement fêté, avec en plus le succès du projet mondial de passage informatique à l'an 4800, après un suspense sur ce que seraient les conséquences du bug de l'an 2100.

## Évènements

* 3 mars : abandon de la N tmc au Japon. Elle sera ensuite remplacer le 27 octobre par N cable.e.
* janvier : Arrêt de la production de la Hi-tec .
* 31 décembre : sortie du Minitel cable.e au Japon.
Writing Prompts Archive/9/Arturon Satsujin

*Arturon Satsujin awoke with a start, beads of cold sweat beading his brow and running down the back of his neck. He'd had the dream again. He found his katana by the light of the dying campfire and drew the black blade from it's sheath and laying it across his lap, ready to clean and sharpen as a part of Arturon's personal calming ritual.*

*Arturon collected a few items from his nearby satchel, a cleaning cloth, a bottle of oil, a whetstone and a flask of the cheapest, strongest drink he'd procured on his last visit to a bar.*

*Arturon used the cloth to clean excess dirt from the blade, focusing on the details of the dream as he did to push the vivid images from his mind through the simple task of weapon maintenance.*

*They came at him, knights clad in the blue and white of the Holy See of Ishgard. He could see the hatred burning in the eyes, smell the coppery scent of fresh blood filling air. It was not the knights that scared him.*

*He looked down, a dead temple knight lay at his feet, these men came to avenge their comrade, his hands came up, carrying a blade as long as he was tall, 3 hands wide at the thickest point. Each swing went through men like cannon fire. Steel plate and chainmail alike parted with ease, the flesh and bone beneath parted easier than that. Laughter rang out, his laughter, but it was not the laughter that scared him.*

*A darkened room now, a lantern flickered into life, illuminating a chamber furnished with little more than a bed and chamber pot, a cracked, dirty mirror hung on the wall opposite the bed, he approached it, appearing as just a grim silhouette in the dim light of the lantern. He reached up a hand and wiped away the dirt, revealing what truly scared him.*

*Arturon wiped the excess oil from the blade with a scrap of waste cloth, he would probably be doing this again in a few nights time, but for now the image of who he used to be, coated in gore, face twisted in what felt like a permanent expression of rage and hatred, the bottomless abyss behind the eyes, would stop haunting his dreams for a time.*
A List of Books

Here is a list of all the books that we have added to the world and a description of them.

## Books known to be at Her Embrace

* The Succubus Saga - An account of a man who became possessed by a voidsent and all the things that were done to stop him.
* Twelve Shades of Azure - A risque romance novel about an Ishgardan commoner who fell in love with the Azure Dragoon.
Behemoth's Quake

Skill Name: Behemoth's Quake

Skill Level: MAXED

Skill Rank: A

Requirements: 500+ Attack

Active: The user stomps their foot on the ground and sends out a strong Quake Wave within a thirty meters range every 1 second for 10 seconds. Each Quake Wave deals a fixed amount of 200 physical damage that ignores all defenses.

Special Note: This skill can also be leveled up through repeated usage and proper execution.

Cooldown: 5 minutes
Writing Prompts Archive/7/Lark Weaver

*There was a reason the menu never served a pork dish. Originally there was but the moment the gammon steak hit the pan and the sizzling smell hit Larks nose he had bolted to empty his stomach into the nearest ceramic bowl. Teddie had found him curled up quivering still an hour later.*

*Jun'a had called it ptsd…. Though he had laughed it off. He was fine, really just a stomach bug most likely or the meat was rancid…*

*He stopped laughing when Albert had to carry him back after a stalking mission through some farming areas ended with him fetal in a pale shaking mess. All it had taken was the smell of cattle being branded to bring him to his knees.*

*Jun'a had done some tests...worked out what triggered it.. though it was hard…mostly the smell of burning skin...but mostly pork…. It didn't surprise him...pork was closest to hyur…*

*Confused as to why suddenly now it was a problem the only answer that could be given was the possibility of now that he had left his master his mind was slowly trying to process the trauma…*

*He cut pork from his diet that day.*

*While Jun'a had offered to refer him to therapy to talk through his truma he chose to just distract his mind with alchole and sex. Much to the other disgust… but why deal with his past when he could just bury it away….*

*Things had adjusted as of late… he prayed Kyruno would never question why he never brought any form of pork product...then again he wondered if the alchemist even paid attention to what he ate while nose deep in research. He still drank...but not as heavily always stopping at tipsey… though he still craved human contact to calm himself Kyruno was quite warm even with his cold personality. Currently curled next to the other feeling fingers comb through his scruffy ginger hair he closed his eyes content he would only have pleasant dreams for once.*
Writing Prompts Archive/11/Mis'to Raesthe

*No thought to slow him down.*

*No time to regret it.*

***\*Boom\****

*Mis’to sees the barrel aimed at his son and he is already between them. He already made his decision. It wasn’t a choice. Not really.*

*There’s a cold, a creeping cold he knows far too well. It hurts less than he thinks as legs give way, as darkness starts to rush in and sound fades. “Run,” he whispers, knowing what will befall the rest as soon as he falls unconscious.*

*Yet still, he stepped in the way.*

*He can feel Morgana’s hand, squeezes it with what life he has left. He has to trust this to her, to save him. Save everyone from him. Even as everything turns black.*

*This ending is happy. This time.*

*But no doubt, that time will come again. Choose to live and see those he loves die, or step in the way and trust that others will save him?*

*It’s not a choice. Not really.*
Writing Prompts Archive/3/Kahvichi Sulyvahn

*Would anything be different if…*

*Abathur opens the door to his usual inn room. Small and almost empty room containing pillow and blanket on the floor. He sets down his katana and sits down, Leaning against a wall. He removes his mask and gazes it “Huh… It's been a few years already…” He takes a small flower inside the mask and focuses into it “Ya know… I still wonder what would life be if… i wasn't late… Our girl would love you into bits and you would spoil her… and i would be watching from the side… smiling.” Abathur smiles warmly as he mumbles to himself. He puts down his mask and flower down and slide into his “bed”. He places his head against the pillow and gazes the roof. He mumbles “I miss you… I wish i could come there with you… But not yet…” He takes his amulet into his hand and watches it “Even if you are here. One thing will never change. Just one last part of the puzzle and i'm closer…” He shuts his eyes and falls asleep with thoughts that keeps him smiling.*
Adelena Duskthorne

Owner of her own business, 'Duskthorne Acquisitions'. Acquirer, adventurer... and privateer when she can. Highly sarcastic, fond of trading verbal barbs with others. Impulsive, typically reckless and doesn't always think her choices through. Fiercely loyal and protective of those she likes and cares about. Beneath everything, a woman with a good heart and good intentions. Uses an apartment in Mist for her business' main office, has a home in the Goblet. Loves La Noscea, will travel as far as needed for work or adventure.

((Will add more once I get the hang of this!))
I can do it better then you

from one of the house, you can hear the Great Allagan genius yelling on the top of her lungs. why is everyone keep on bugging me, do I have a sign on my door saying I got nothing to do so please bug me. The person that is staying in front of Snowflake, okay said Snowflake. tell me what you like to do with me and so I can say no and then I can go back to work. well, you may not know but I am Stephanivien and a friend of your named Cid Garlond said you can help me in more than one way. How do you know Cid Garlond said Snowflake. Stephanivien says to Snowflake that he is doing some work for Cid Garlond. okay okay said snowflake, let's go back to the start.

How can I help you Mr.Stephanivien? I am the owner of the Skysteel Manufactory and I am a researcher and developer of ballistas, cannons, and other advanced armaments designed. I like your skills to helping the Skysteel Manufactory make better weapon said Stephanivien. I see that you know how to fish for people like me said snowflake, show me what you got. Stephanivien puts onto the table a High Steel Culverin and says this is what the Skysteel Manufactory can make right now. snowflake takes a good look at the weapon, I can see it was well made but on how it was designed, it sucks said Snowflake. Stephanivien looks right at snowflake, how can the design suck. this is top of the line weapon that was just made yesterday. i know it can be hard to hear someone tell you that what you made suck. right now I can tell you four way to make it better but I don't have the parts on hand but only one of them I can do said snowflake. Snowflake takes out two fire and earth Cluster from her box next to her and put it on the table. now with the cluster, I have this will make it more powerful than your old gun. let's see, give me three hours and I will show you what I can make. Stephanivien says a new gun within three hours? Snowflake takes Stephanivien upstairs and tells him you will see in good time.....

after some time, Stephanivien hears snowflake walking up the stairs. as snowflake gets to the top of the stairs Stephanivien sees the weapon being covered up with a cloth but even with that you can see a glow coming from it. Snowflake says with confidence, this will blow you away.
Writing Prompts Archive/3/Artair Aldwin

*A necklace, often unnoticed by most. He wears it all the time and takes it wherever he goes. It reminds him of who he was, how his life was before his affliction. Should he ever  go too dark, it always helps him back to the light.*

*The necklace is a simple silver chain threaded through a golden ring. Ishgardian design. The ring that belonged to his late wife; Astrid.*

*Though Artair as since moved on and found another loving wife. He'll never forget Astrid. He can't. It's one of the few things from his old life he still holds close.*
Chivalrous code

**Courage**
More than bravado or bluster, today’s knight in shining armor must have the courage of the heart necessary to undertake tasks which are difficult, tedious or unglamorous, and to graciously accept the sacrifices involved.

**Justice**
A knight in shining armor holds him- or herself to the highest standard of behavior, and knows that “fudging” on the little rules weakens the fabric of society for everyone.

**Mercy**
Words and attitudes can be painful weapons in the modern world, which is why a knight in shining armor exercises mercy in his or her dealings with others, creating a sense of peace and community, rather than engendering hostility and antagonism.

**Generosity**
Sharing what’s valuable in life means not just giving away material goods, but also time, attention, wisdom and energy — the things that create a strong, rich and diverse community.

**Faith**
In the code of chivalry, “faith” means trust and integrity, and a knight in shining armor is always faithful to his or her promises, no matter how big or small they may be.

**Nobility**
Although this word is sometimes confused with “entitlement” or “snobbishness,” in the code of chivalry it conveys the importance of upholding one’s convictions at all times, especially when no one else is watching.

**Hope**
More than just a safety net in times of tragedy, hope is present every day in a knight’s positive outlook and cheerful demeanor — the shining armor that shields him or her, and inspires people all around.
Writing Prompts Archive/5/Kazenone Alagar

*Kazenone had always been a morning person, well suited to waking up at dawn ready for a day of adventuring. These days however, he was busier with the usual business in the shop. Every day had to begin with a fresh cup of tea with pastries as Rufus plodded around the shop floor doing his 'inspection'. Kazenone liked to keep busy during breakfast, some mornings it would be doing the accounts, others it would be stock checks or planning, some it would simply be writing notes on the dreams of the previous night.*

*The shop sign would need to be flipped before long, and the earliest and keenest scholars would begin their day, along with the cafe staff. A quiet hum of activity filling the bookshop once more.*
Writing Prompts Archive/8/Kazenone Alagar

*Another busy day in town. Gathering supplies, making enquiries, catching old acquaintances. But now with the large tasks out of the way, Kazenone’s mind was no longer racing from job to job.*

*The boat back to the Lavender Beds would arrive in a few minutes. He had counted on having to wait, to take in the pure beauty of the Whispering Gorge, it’s waters stretching out into the forest and marking the edge of the domain of Elementals. There was nothing to do here but wait, and watch the gentle ripples, and listen to the low chirping, and feel the gentle breeze lifting off the waters, carrying a faint smell of moss.*

*This moment would not last, but that made it all the more rewarding. A small reprieve from work and bustle, venturing out but not far enough to be unfamiliar. Enough to just… be.*
Writing Prompts Archive/13/Mjern Hyskaris

*“If I knew tips from working in a bar bring so much money, I would settle down ages ago”* thought Mjern, sitting on her golden throne.
It was a hot summer day, so the scantily clad Viera servants decided they should start fanning their dark skinned, white haired employer with big palm tree leaves.

Mjern stood up and slowly gazed at the entirety of the “Fist of Fury” she established months ago. The guests slowly started pouring into the main room of the mansion, a big round room with places to sit all around, with a big golden throne seen right at a high pedestal on the back of the room. In the center was a space that seemed like an arena. Servants were finishing piling all sorts of items. Big rocks, strangely looking metals, whole suits of intricate armor, parts of fantastical beasts were all scattered around the arena. Martial artists from lands foreign started coming in one by one by the arena, after all the guests took their places.

A man clad in golden armor got up the pedestal and approached Mjern, bowing his head down.
“Welcome, welcome, let us proceed, shall we? We’ll be both commenting tonight” Said Mjern to the au’ra man as they both faced the cheering crowd and the gathered fighters.
*“A lot of his tips really funded building this place”* She thought about the man standing beside her. She raised her hands to silence the crowd and began an annual speech.
“Welcome again, noble guests! Welcome to the Fist of Fury. And welcome, great fighters from all over the land! You know the rules. I have gathered the things you see before you this week for you to smash. As usual, the fighter picks his target and has to destroy it with a single hit. No weapons or magic projectiles allowed, only fists, legs, heads, whatever technique you use. Let’s go with the first contestant, shall we?” She looked down on the arena, crossing her hands.
*“Huh. I never heard of a bartender funding a whole arena with just tips alone. And such a weird one at that.”*
She thought to herself when the first contestant approached a big slab of adamantite, focused himself and punched the metal with his fist, not putting a dent on it. A loud crack suggested the contestant had broken his hand.
The crowd fell silent.
Mjern put her palm on her face and loudly said “Healer, we already have the first victim. Get to work” and the crowd exploded with laughter and cheer.
Writing Prompts Archive/8/Kyru Celeste

*His feet were aching and his pale eyes had bags under them from exhaustion. His work meant being on his feet for hours on end, travelling from merchant to merchant throughout the city-state of Gridania, creating and restocking potions and materials for those that request it; for a hefty sum of money, of course. The days quickly turn into nights, and only when he steps outside to find the sky turning black does he realise the time and begins to set forth for Westshore Pier to return to his Atelier. He could just retire to his mansion, but he has become somewhat obsessed with his work, nary giving himself a moment away from creating potions and attempting to come up with new alchemic products. Moreover, returning home meant having to face his parents, which he really was not in the mood for.*

*Kyruno made his way to the perimeter of the Pier and sat down, dangling his legs over the edge to view the usual ebony sky amidst him. The gentle warm wind whipped at his short golden hair as his tired eyes focused on an individual twinkling star amongst the thousands. The silvery white moonlight sprinkled over the calm flow of the river beneath him and for the first time that day, he felt at ease. The luminous glow of fireflies danced around him as the mellow rustling of the forest’s branches graced his ears but even still, his mind was focused on the next ingredient he could substitute to make his next elixir more potent; his attention constantly and obsessively fixated on creating a draught that no other renowned alchemist could possibly dream of accomplishing.*

*It was as if Gridania’s pulsing heart was aching for him to rest. Kyruno suddenly took note of the rich earth and slight scent of flowers surrounding him and in response, he inhaled deeply, feeling a tiny bit of weight lift from his shoulders. However, this sense of warmth was short-lived as he saw the ferry approach his sight from the thicket of trees in the distance. He slowly forced his body to rise, and he calmly brushed off his clothes before standing upright yet again - his shoulders never slouching.*

*‘I should use tiger lilies in the next one…’ he murmured to himself.*
Writing Prompts Archive/6/N'yalla

*N’yalla values trust above all. But her standards are high, and very very few meet them. This doesn’t mean she questions people, or won’t socialize. N’yalla is extroverted almost to a fault, and loves nothing more than company. However there are things she must keep secret, from friends, from lovers, and everyone else. So N’yalla’s acquaintances are many, but close friends. The kind that truly know her, and what is up to in the late nights. That number is null.*
R'vhell Rivier Tia

Born on La Noscean soil, Vell is an accomplished Arcanist with a bit of a troubled past. Trying to put his logic before emotions, Vell has the problem of appearing rather blunt or inconsiderate. While in reality, he deeply cares for others.

In reality, Vell is a Summoner. Which he rather not speaks of, as he considers it a dangerous thing to be known. However, he knows he cannot keep it hidden that he is a Summoner and also has a Crystal of Light. Which proves to be quite a struggle for his future.

## Early Life

Vell has been born to a reclusive section of the Raptor tribe, having their typical piercing amber eyes which is the pride of the tribe. That very heritage of piercing amber eyes seem to be working against him occasionally, giving him stinging headaches from time to time. This requires him to use glasses, to prevent him from getting headaches.

However, the circumstances of his birth weren't in his favor. Born between the two rather reclusive tribes in the eastern zone of La Noscea, Vell was destined to be a reject. His father came from the Gigantoad (H) tribe, who still was a Tia at the time Vell was sired, making it much more of a taboo than it already was. But the poor child's luck turned out for the worse as he was also the runt of the tribe, being deemed better off dying on his own.

Shortly after being abandoned by his own tribe, a Hyurian couple found him before things turned out for the worse. The couple took him in without much arguing as it is known Miqo'te can fight among each other and live a harsh lifestyle if not living in the city. It is known around the parts that the reclusive Raptor tribe live in the area and therefore, his new adoptive parents had assigned him to be still part of it. Attempting to keep his heritage intact while giving him their last name, Rivier.
At about six summers old, the issues why he was abandoned by his own tribe started to arise. His physcial development was rather poor as he wouldn't grow much and the occuring headaches prompted his parents to look for options to prevent them from happening. Another thing of note was that his behavior was quite different from the Miqo'te children living around him. This quite bothered Vell and he started locking himself up in his parents house, eventually finding himself an old book that had some traditional Hyurian recipes in it, sparking his interest in baking and cooking.

During his years growing up, Vell and his parents would visit Limsa Lominsa, eventually Vell saw a Carbuncle and he would become enamored with the aetherical creatures, telling that he has found his goal to work towards to.
The next years things went relatively alright,
N'yalla

The only student of the mysterious Shafifi Ufifi, N'yalla is a rising adventurer slowly building a name for herself. She values her freedom and helping others All the while using her adventures as a way to test and improve her skills.

## N'yalla Ufifi

"You'll never know until you try right? Come on. Let's give it our all."

## Powers and Abilities

### Physical Abilities:

Athletic, being a fast runner and good at evading during combat.

### Magical Abilities:

Adept mage with a unique use of magical focus. Freely able to manipulate Water, Wind, Thunder and Fire for combat purposes. Slowly studying and unraveling the secrets of Black Magic.
Writing Prompts Archive/3/Mis'to Raesthe

*I step out of the Stray Sheep into the welcome night air, the pain in my forehead still lingering. Though the cool breeze helps, it’s still a fight to keep the nausea down.*

*I managed to get myself cut off. Made the decision to pursue the Garleans I was chasing to buy the rest some time. They didn’t survive the fire that I did.*

*I’m not a good liar.*

*But I’m very good at half-truths.*

*It was after I gave up adventuring. When I realized I couldn’t handle what I did - and what I have - any more. It was an attempt to settle, to have a life that was more than just wandering clan to clan. A family.*

*I nearly got it.*

*With no one there to see, I finally allow myself to touch a thumb to the pendant that lies on my chest.*

*It...it wasn’t just for curiosity that I started travelling, kid.*
Writing Prompts Archive/4/Lark Weaver

*He walked at her side. His small 7 year old legs struggling to keep up with her long strides. It was odd for her to take him out. But he didn't mind the uldah sun shining bright above. He wondered where they were going..but he didn't want to meet her fowl mood by questioning her. Instead he gently squeezed her cold fingers marveling in the slight twitch back.*

*They walked for some time until the sun no longer shone on them. Eyes glowered at the pair from the shadows. He whimpered slightly stepping a bit closer to his mother's skirt for whatever comfort the cold woman would offer to her son.*

*Soon they soon in the depths of a dark alley, a canopy to shield the area from spying eyes and plenty of goons to scare away lost souls. His mother didn’t seem to bat an eye at leering stares as she requested to speak to the boss.*

He didn’t understand the words they were speaking but soon an arm grabbed him pulling him away from his mother. “Mama…” He squeaked out as she snatched her hand away. Taking a small coin from the man's hand. Without even a goodbye she turned on her heel and walked away. Reaching out to her the vice like grip on his arm stopped him from following.

In seconds barely giving him time to register he was pulled sharply back, the hem of his shirt yanked up over his head blinding him to what was happening. People were shouting in his confused state he barely could make out words...was something cooking in the background?

It wasn’t until burning hot sensations from his pelvis tore him from the flurry of thoughts. The smell of burning skin filled his senses as he croaked so much pain traveling through his small body that he couldn’t even scream. It was only when the first brand was completed that a wave of sickness ran through him not even preparing him for the next brand. That one made him scream. Muffled by the cloth before everything went white.

He groaned as he sat up in bed. Now many years older as he stood scratching his messy red hair. Looking into the floor length mirror he spotted the same brand on his hip...even now he could smell the sensation of burning skin when he looked at it. Phantom pains running through him at times. Number 22...the successor to number 21… he wondered if they ever picked a number 23 to succeed him had he died...or had Teddie never pulled him from that life….somewhat….ah the tavern was open tonight wasn’t it…
Samara Grey

## Character Notes

* Name Samara Grey (Sam,Sammie)
* Age 29
* Hyur Midlander/Highlander
* Scholar of aether and lost magics
* Mixed Fighting style
* unique aether manipulation
* Can see a persons  aether

## **Early Story**

### **The Black Widow**

Samara knows very little of her history and can only recall flashes of her early life. she lived in the Black shroud with a group that claimed to be freedom fighters. She would find out later down the line they where common bandits using her gifts to out play anyone that challenged their camp.

When Samara found out about the camps lies she killed them on the spot from a fir of rage. vowing to her self she would hunt down every bandit she could find, the Hyur would spend a lot of her early years capturing bandits and using her skills to break them into submission.

Slowly she developed a network of people to help her with her plan to punish the people that would harm others in her twisted vision she was the only person that could solve the bandit issues.
Writing Prompts Archive/13/Escher Strange

*Escher Strange was used to seeing Tia Lin sit on various things - floating armchairs, fat cats, his lap - but a mountain of gil was new.*

*He pushed up his spectacles. "I'm sure there's a very logical reason behind this."*

*Tia picked a coin from the pile and flipped it in the air, smirking. "Made a killing in the markets."*

*It was hard to look at Tia amid the sparkling gil pile. Escher shielded his eyes and focused on the wall to his side instead. "I'm...so proud of you?"*

*"You should." Tia caught the coin and leapt off the mound, He bounded over to Escher and motioned to the gil. “And the best part is it’s all ours!”*

*Escher blinked. “Ours?”*

*“Of course, Mine, yours, and Lynnie’s!”*

*“But I’ve not done anything.”*

*“Moral support counts.” The Miqo’te wrapped his arm around his waist. “So! What would you like to do with your share?”*

*The pink-haired Hyur looked at Tia, the gil pile, then back.Tia’s tail swayed eagerly, waiting for an answer. This was a bit too much pressure in such short notice. Escher’s parents weren’t destitute, but it went without saying that teaching and research did not rake in the coin. He was taught to save and live within means, and the pile of money in front of him only reinforced the message. If left alone it could vanish in days, best stash some aside before that happened.*

*“W,well, some to save-”*

*“For retirement? Smart move,” Tia enthused. “We can’t be adventuring forever.”*

*“Have we paid all our debts?”*

*Tia gave a thumbs-up sign. “All done!”*

*“Donated to charity?”*

“Yep.” Tia rested his head on Escher’s shoulder and stroked his waist. “This is ours to do as we please.” Tia looked at his partner and purred. “You know, the Mujikoza just premiered a new play.”

Escher raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”

*Tia nodded. “And I’ve always wanted to try out some of the Shiokaze’s rice wines.”*

*“Dinner and a play? Sounds like an idea.”*

*“It is,” Tia drawled.*

*Escher’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea, I’ll ask Hien if he wants to come.”*

*The reply hit Tia like a thousand of Ramuh’s thunderbolts. He shot a look at the Hyur. “What?”*

*“He’s always wanted to have dinner but never had the chance. It’s near the Doman Enclave so he should have no problem sneaking out for a night. Do you think Yugiri would join?”*

*Tia bared his fangs. To the unwitting, it looked like a wide smile. “Sure. Why not invite everyone at the Azim Steppe too?”*

*“I don’t think they can all fit into the theatre, and they’d cause a ruckus at the Shiokaze. Best keep it to a small group for now.” Five claws sank into Escher’s waist. “Ow.” He turned to Tia and saw a rolanberry-red Miqo’te ready to tear him apart.*

*Pain turned to realisation, and he snickered. “Silly kitty. Of course it’s going to be just us.”*

*Tia crossed his arms, cheeks puffed. “Not funny.”*

*“Are you still up for it?”*

*Tia side-eyed him. “It’ll take some time to get ready,” he huffed.*

*He beamed. “It’ll be worth the wait.”*
Writing Prompts Archive/10/Kaldalis

*Family. What does that word mean?*

***There’s little noise in the room beyond the sound of a leather belt fastening.***

*Is your family those you grow up amongst? Those you raise to be better than yourself?*

***Then a series of ‘chinks’ as chainmail is moved.***

*Most believe family is who you pick to be as such, however I do not believe that to be true.*

***A quartet of thuds as greaves and sabatons are placed and fixed.***

*No, I do not believe family is who you are born to.*

***Metal is moved upon metal, straps secured.***

*Neither is it restricted to those you yourself give the gift of life to.*

***More metal upon metal, then a pair of hisses and thuds, followed by the grinding of leather as gauntlets secure themselves.***

*It’s not even those you choose, as you rarely like your entire family.*

***A final sound of metal latches sealing, the sliding of a helmet’s visor down to cover a face.***

***‘Are you ready Kal?’ Kieo asks from outside the room***

***‘Always.’ I reply***

*Family? That’s simple really. Your family is who you’d die for.*
Sehsha Maieth

**Appearance:**

- Green eyes

- Pale blond hair

- Grey skin

- Cheek scar

- tall, "lightweight" build

-Age: 38

**Early Years(Age:0-18).**

Born as the 3rd child of a family of fishers in Lakeland, Carrilaut spend most of his youth without special treatment or remarkable events.His education consisted mostly of what his parents were able to teach him, and smaller bits of knowledge he was able to find in conversations, as reading was never a strong skill of his. Beeing passionate and ambitious made him not just following in his fathers footsteps, but to improve on his dads skills and knowledge wherever he could, trying to gain knowledge of more then just the Lakelands fishing grounds. By the age of 18 he commonly ventured out to the Rak'tika greatwoods to cast his line at the Tusi Mek'ta Lake.

**The nights blessed(Age:18-26).**

Intruding deeper into Rak'tika for his fishing expeditions (and to feed curiousity), Carrilaut eventually met a patrol who was part of a group calling themselves the nights blessed. At Age 26, Carrilaut took his father out for a birthday trip to show him the world beyond the borders of the Lakelands. Fishing at his favourite spot for a while they were eventually found by a stray sin eater.With his father frozen in shock at the sight of the beast, Carrilaut pulled him into the lake to save him, but couldnt keep both of them afloat till the danger passed. His father drowning before they could it back to shore. Back on the shores with his lifeless body, he spend multiple hours weeping till he passed out from exhaustion. When he woke himself, he found himself in the small camp of the nights blessed, who offered him shelter,solace, and an opportunity to say goodbye to his father. That day he decided to never go fishing again, till he had proven himself capable to prevent such a tragedy in the future.

**Changing families(Age:26-28).**

Filled with conflicting emotions about what happened at the Lake, Carrilaut ended up staying with the nights blessed, afraid to have to tell his remaining family of what he felt responsible for. Joining the Cult as a person of limited talent, he had to relearn how to fill his part in society, resorting to basic muscle work at the start. Over the next year he developed a habit of returning to the shore of Lake Tusi Mek'ta to grief his father, spending hours silently mourning his actions.

**A New Life (Age:35).**

Having grown into a decently skilled hand to hand fighter and pugilist over the last 7 years, Carrilaut rose in confidence and reputation within the nights blessed, beeing a stable member of the patrols.He even picked up his fishing rod in times of dire need to help make ends meet in a way he could. Having grown into their customs, he also adopted a deviated version his fathers name with "Sehsha" as his new name, alongside a peridot pendant as his Birthstone.

*Trivia:*

-Y'shtola showed up when Sehsha was about 34 years old

-grown up as a fisherman, Sehsha still enjoys fishing, even if connected with strong feelings about his past.

-he loves singing

- over the past yeas his birth name has been almost forgotten.
Writing Prompts Archive/3/N'yalla

*With a joyful hop to her step, N’yalla returned home. It was rare for her to get a good mission, even rarer for her to be recommended for one. There was a voidsent on the loose, and N’yalla’s sensitivity to aether would come in handy as well as her firepower.*

*There were a lot of choices to make about her outfit, something that took N’yalla far too long to decide. But one thing was easy; choosing her robes. Special missions required only the best garments, and all of her best garments were dear gifts.*

*She put on long red robes, far too expensive for her to ever by with her own money. A gift from her mentor. Next she stuffed the pouch with her trademark magical rings. While she had to replace a few, most of them too were still relics from her mentor. Next she grabbed her staff that was mounted on the wall, and sheathed it behind her back. A gift from her mentor. Finally when she was near the door she checked a hidden pouch under her robes, close to her breast. Her crystal was there, snug and safe. The final gift her mentor had left her.*

*N’yalla smiled as she left out the door. Her teacher had left her with everything she needed, from knowledge to equipment. She owed everything to her. So now, N’yalla had to make her proud.*