#the garlean empire and its consequences and implications

[xiakha]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Prompt #2 - Horizon

The first encounter that Xiao had with Empire happened when she was but a babe. She was awoken by the rumble of far too consistent thunder and peered bleary-eyed at distant flashes of lightning in the predawn without the clouds to account for it.

Cannonfire, one of her elder sisters told her. There was a battle at sea. Unlike the trading ships that would sometimes anchor just off-island and send merchants to barter goods and services, those ships held soldiers that bartered only in violence and death. Gods be good, nothing of the sort would darken the shores upon which their clans lived.

But there was no such luck. That very afternoon, white sails approached their small archipelago. A bedraggled fleet of motley vessels anchored themselves a few malms away. Within cannon range. Strange men bearing too many weapons limped ashore, requesting succor, promising riches, implying terrible violence. 

The Matriarch, Xiao’s mother, summoned an emergency council of elders, but it was all too obvious their lack of choices. They had enough to fend off a single ship with some casualties, and they had done so in the past. Perhaps they would be able to defend their homes against the current fleet, albeit with heavy losses they would mourn for years to come. 

But there were other fleets. 

Worse, this one was wounded and tired from a day of battle. Others would be better equipped, fresher to the fight. And if what the Roegadyn with the wide-brimmed triangular hat claimed was true, the island chain was half a day’s sail from a newly established imperial trading route. A battle that the clans would need a generation to recover from would now threaten them at least once every moon. The sailors graciously pledged upon their code that they would never bring their conflicts to the islands if they were allowed refuge.

Empty promises pledged to meaningless words. The council instead counted the swords and pistols on the Roegadyn’s gold trimmed coat. It summed the number of gunports reported by their fishing boats coming home. It reviewed what risks and sacrifices and losses the clans could take. The calculations were grim.

Ere the sun tipped beyond the self-same horizon that the sailors had come from, the council agreed to lend aid to the men, offer hospitality, and open their doors. They graciously allowed the sailors to trade in gold instead of murder. The clans offered freely sons and daughters to join crews and provide comfort so that not all of them would be taken by force, so that they all may live at least a while longer.

It was not until much later that the council realized its gravest error, that they had not traded away their tranquil and humble fishing lifestyle to the Empire, but to the Empire’s parasites. The sailors were pirates, raiding from a distant homeland. The bloodstained gold and goods they proffered were stolen. The clans had allied themselves to a foreign state with no local power save the errant and fickle pirate crews that could not be trusted with the open secret that was the Clan Longbao Freeport. Even the crews that swore by the code readily violated its terms while on the islands. If there was any retaliation against violators, recompense came not to the clansfolk that suffered, and revenge was out of the question, lest the treaties the clans signed with the pirates were revoked.

To their credit, the pirates understood what a golden hamsa the archipelago represented, and warded off imperial vessels long before they could sight the shores. They were primarily looking out for themselves, of course, but the clans were thus able to rebuild their livelihoods up from the disruption. After the freeport was established, a market in the former village square arose. Hospitality and mercantilism became the main trades. The clans genuinely prospered from the existential risk. However it was not lost upon the elders that the foreign men and women now outnumbered the Keepers of the Moon that made up their clans, and their young were leaving with the pirates to seek fortunes away from the islands.

In their number, of course, included the youth favored to become the next Matriarch: Xiao herself.

***

Empire followed her to the shores of Limsa Lominsa. She learned its name proper: Garlemald. But she saw little difference in the actions of these claimed enemies of her claimed allies. In many ways, the Lominsans treated those around them with the same terror and menace as the Garleans were purported to. She found more akin with the plight of the “beastmen” than she did the struggles of the former pirates. Indeed, the only reason she did not simply renounce her ties with the city states completely was that she could not abide the terror that was the primals either. That, and she knew not what vengeance would be wreaked upon her home, still offering hospitality to Lominsan pirates, were she to foment insurrection.

The Kobolds and Sahagin at least had more fight in them than her clans had, but that was because the land that they lived on was more valuable to the Lominsans than their lives were. Their crisis was actively existential, instead of passively. But if the “beast tribes” were eliminated, would the Lominsans be satisfied with just Vylbrand? Or would their thirst for conquest continue to the horizons that their ships oft sailed past to seek fortunes and to raid Imperial ships? The Thalassocracy was after all as much a weapon of war as it was a government, if it were not more so. That they did not turn against the other city-states in the same manner in which they preyed upon the Kobolds and Sahagin was a matter of convenience apparently. There were retired pirates that first cut their teeth raiding Ul’Dahn vessels still living the quiet life in La Noscea after all, their trespasses largely forgotten if not forgiven. At the least, she would refuse to aid in the overt destruction.

Xiao was aware there was talk behind her back, that she was unlikely to achieve a rank higher than Storm Captain, that even that rank was more honorary than duty bound. There were none under her command, partially because her activities under Maelstrom were primarily dedicated to primal slaying and being the Warrior of Light, mostly because she was considered too much of a liability to be allowed more than a squadron. After all, she was “too soft on the beastmen” because she refused to drive them back with lethal force, and she rarely slayed any save their primals, leaving even their most tempered captains to slink off to lick their wounds if she could help it.

The only time she was to be disciplined by Maelstrom High Command was for insubordination and assault of a superior officer, charges that were dropped when Xiao made it clear she did not have the words to defend herself, but she did have her axe. Her run through Hullbreaker Isle made it clear that she could deflect direct fire from a cannon with an intimidating amount of ease and could make even the most seasoned captain yield in single combat. The inter-city-state politics that was disciplining the Warrior of Light also became a sticking point. Thus the commander that had ordered the slaughter of Sahagin spawnlings that Xiao stopped was instead tried and convicted before the Admiral. Indeed, it would be difficult to argue that the new accord struck between Kobold patriarch, Za Da and Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn would have happened had it not been years of Xiao’s interventions to defend the Kobolds against her own.

But she was still in this way a perpetuator of the harm that Empire committed.

***

The sins of Empire started back at her once more upon the Azim Steppe. Her greatsword lifted above her head in triumph, the peoples of the Steppe arranged kneeling around her in defeat and supplication, Cirina and her allies all roaring in victory, Xiao was visited by a dark impulse. What was stopping her from usurping Mol rule? She could easily bring her blade down upon Cirina’s head; she could ride back to Mol Iloh and slay Temulun and any that would stop her. Was she not khagan? The entire Steppe was under her rule. She could bring them all the bear against Doma, the conquest would likely be easy. After all, the point of all of this was to rout the Imperials, and the Xaela tribes were the army that they were looking to raise to do so. And with the Domans conscripted and Hien disposed of, what was to stop her from taking the rest of Othard? She could establish a dynasty after “uniting” much of the East, possibly a viable challenger to Garlemald.

It could have been the advent of the long and bloody reign of the khagan, warlord, and possibly Empress Longbao. The horizons were hers to conquer, to chase.

But even as the thoughts occurred to her, she dropped them in horror. She hadn’t the temerity, the bloodthirst, the greed. Oh, it was true she loved a good challenge, and she didn’t shy from contests of strength and of will, but with conquest, would she be fighting against ever greater odds, or would most of her time be spent policing her previous conquests? She saw how Garlemald operated. Ala Mhigo made it clear how miserable it was. They passed by the archipelago she hailed from, a glimmer in the distant horizon, on their journey to the far east. The Kraken's Arms’ helmsman pointed it out as the freeport that bore a similar name to Xiao’s, to which the Warrior of Light dismissed any relationship. But were she to declare herself a conqueror, how long would it be before she returned to her home with blade in hand and fire at her back?

How fortuitous it was then, that the Imperial forces decided then and there to converge upon the Naadam, before Xiao could ponder anymore her newfound authority.

***

Years later still, in Garlemald proper, the Ilsabard Contingent may have met with little Imperial opposition, but they also provided little succor. 

The first full day and night they had spent in Garlemald was fruitless. Sure, they were able to ascertain that at least some survived the horrors of the Telophoroi, said survivors were not forthcoming about seeking aid. The overall mood in Camp Broken Glass was low. 

As khagan this year as well, much to Magnai’s chagrin, Xiao wished to rally the spirits of the members of the Eastern Alliance, and she could use a bit of rallying herself. So it was such that she had just sat down with them for a repast when the white noise of the salvaged and repaired radio crackled into a haunting melody. 

The Warrior of Light was struck with a strange cloying sensation. The tune gripped her chest and throat, and were it not so cold, perhaps tears would have welled up in her eyes.

Sadu first noticed the change in Xiao’s expression, “Ah, so it strikes to the quick of even a mighty warrior such as yourself.”

“‘Tis most melancholy.”

Magnai spoke up, likely to one-up Sadu, “Aye, Maxima said ‘tis a traditional Garlean song, its origins date back to before the empire, when the Garleans were first pushed this far north.”

“What’s the song’s name?”

“‘Home Beyond the Horizon.’”

Xiao looked out to what little glow was left of the sunset. She wondered what love she still held for the islands from which she hailed, and how the song was able to kindle that love into a desperate longing. And yet she also felt nauseated. Was this cause enough? Was this homesick desire enough to motivate a people to drive forth on ceruleum-belching magitek and subjugate all that would stand in their way? Was this excuse enough for Empire? 

It was suffering that perpetuated more suffering, greed that perpetuated more greed, war that perpetuated more war. Conquest was a means to its own ends…

All the way to the horizon.

[chrysalispen]

Prompt #25 - Wish

aurelia bas laskaris, age 16

AO3 Link HERE

=============

Sometimes it seemed as though the entire span of L'haiya dus Eyahri’s life had been defined by the Empire. It had influenced her path even before she was born. Her mother had been in the city of Rabanastre when it fell to imperial troops, and the Garlean soldier who had sired her--- well, best not to think much on him. Mother had wed a cobbler from the edge of the capitol's market district when L'haiya was four summers old. He had raised her, and to L’haiya’s mind he was her true father.

In the old days she might have attended a primary school before taking on her family's trade, but under imperial occupation such luxuries were not afforded to her or her compeers. L'haiya and her half-sister L'jhutei were sent away to a school in the capitol for "the finest education the Empire can offer" as it was phrased by the viceroy ("propaganda," her father had called it, muttering it so quietly that he must have thought her unable to hear), one which had turned out to be a military school. Both sisters had had a commission into the legions after graduation.

L’haiya had almost taken it, too. But then? Well, then she had met Vittora cen Remianus, and Vittora had met her husband, and…

Perhaps it was for the best. Her service to the Laskaris family had earned her a fast path to imperial citizenship, after all; Mama would have said one was as good as the other, were she here, and the equally practical L'haiya was not one to look too much askance at such a boon. Even if it had left her in the rather troublesome position of raising her friend's child.

She stared at that slumped posture, the bowed golden head. From the porch, she could see her charge's shoulders trembling but could not tell if she was shivering from the night air or if she was still crying.

L’haiya felt a sort of stern and helpless pity for her. Although Julian rem Laskaris’ only child had learned something of the importance of controlling herself and learning which battles to pick (particularly in a place like the Empire, where speaking one’s mind in the wrong ears could have very severe consequences indeed), children would be children. The girl was very young and very sheltered, and she had been friends with the boy since they were small. L’haiya didn’t suppose she would have taken well to the news either were their positions reversed.

Quietly she rapped on the door and stepped over the threshold into the garden. The stars overhead were a diamond spray and the air still carried the day's warmth.

“Aurelia.”

“Go away,” the Garlean girl said in a choked voice. “I don’t want to talk.”

L’haiya made her way down the steps and into the grass, her skirts swishing about her legs, and perched herself upon the edge of the Doman fountain next to her charge. Aurelia’s body went rigid, but she said nothing and remained in place. “Your father-”

“If you’ve come to tell me I was a fool, you needn’t do so. I know I shouldn’t have said what I did. I know.” The girl sniffled and wiped at her eyes, then returned her hands to her lap. “But I just- I don’t understand how Father could do this to me. I didn’t even get to tell him goodbye, or wish him well! If I could have had at least a few more days with him then-”

“I think that would have been quite unwise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your father had nothing to do with L’sazha’s early departure, Aurelia. He left under my advisement.” The Miqo’te’s voice was steady. Calm. “And 'tis well that he did. You’ve caused trouble enough for the boy as it is.”

“Sazha is an adult by imperial law. As am I,” Aurelia said stiffly. “We’ve hardly any need for my father’s approval to do as we wish.”

“What you did,” she snapped back, her words clipped and cold, “posed a serious risk not just to you, but to L’sazha. The tribunus would have had him swinging from the nearest gibbet did he know the extent of your dalliance.”

"But he didn't know. We were careful and nothing happened until you decided to meddle in our affairs. Father barely cares enough to ask me about my studies, never mind aught else."

L’haiya wanted to shake her. She took a deep, measured breath.

“I was young once myself. And I daresay I was just as selfish and thoughtless,” she said. “I can hardly fault you for your age. But I feel the need to spare you your blushes by explaining the implications of what you did, as you don’t appear to quite understand the magnitude of it.”

“If we were adventurers, no one would have cared who I am, or what we-”

"The fact is that you are not an adventurer, Aurelia,” she snapped. “And this is not Eorzea. For better or worse we live in the Garlean Empire and under imperial jurisdiction. L'sazha is my legal ward and you are a lady of a certain social status. Better that you be angry with me for a time. It would have been not only dangerous to let the two of you continue on as you were, but it would also have been wildly irresponsible on my part.”

Aurelia looked stricken, her face pale. Relentlessly, L’haiya continued on.

“They hang our kind for far lesser offenses, Aurelia. If you care a whit about that boy, even a fraction of what you claim, you’ll go apologize to your father and put a decisive end to this romance of yours.”

“But-”

“But what?”

Aurelia’s chin quivered.

“I love him. I’ve loved him for so long.”

Seven hells, she might have known it was as simple - and as dangerous - as that. She’d assumed the girl’s interest in her Miqo'te companion to be little more than a childish infatuation, but it seemed their feelings had blossomed beneath her nose into something deeper than she had suspected. She had deluded herself it would pass, and in the meantime, they'd fallen in love with each other. Or as close as a pair of children could get to romantic love.

“I know you think you’re in love with him, Aurelia. But you’ll move on. And so will he. That's the way of things, good and bad.”

“No, I won’t,” she choked. “You don’t understand at all. He loves me, and once I’m done with school and my enlistment-”

“Let Sazha move on with his life,” L’haiya said, in a quieter, gentler tone. Better not to let the girl finish that statement. Better not to let her even entertain the notion it might be possible. “Let him find himself. He deserves better than my largesse and your shadow.”

Aurelia's stare was full of incredulous fury- and then her angry expression crumpled into one of despair, and on its heels welled a single sob of broken-hearted anguish. This time L’haiya put an arm about her shoulders and pulled her in for an embrace, and met no resistance. One of the girl's hands dropped into her lap and the other grasped at a handful of L’haiya’s linen shirtwaist as she buried her head under her governess’ chin.

“It’s all right, sunshine,” L'haiya murmured. “All will be well in the end. You'll see.”

“I’ll never love anyone again.”

“Yes, you will.”

“As long as I live,” she vowed, “never.”

She kissed the bright golden crown of hair and nestled her cheek against its softness, this child who she loved as her own, and let her spend her grief without comment. It was what it was. Years abroad on tour with the army would do one of two things to their relationship - either it would strengthen their resolve to be together (in which case, L’haiya thought, they would have little choice but to defect) or it would cool their passions. L’haiya expected the latter; sixteen was very young, and carried with it little foresight or understanding of the way love worked.

But she knew Aurelia would hear none of that. The girl might have the look of her mother but she was every bit as obstinate as Julian rem Laskaris had ever been.

“Elle?” the girl said, in a small and choked voice.

“What?”

“Can I tell you something? A secret?”

“Go on.”

The hand that had gathered in her shirtwaist clenched into a fist.

“Sometimes,” she whispered, “I wish I had never been born.”

“Oh, child, you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” The words were harshly emphatic. “Mama and Father were so happy together. But then I came along and ruined everything.”

“That’s not true at all.”

“It is. I wish I weren’t who I am.”

“Why would you even consider something so dreadful?” L’haiya felt something in her chest twist. “Aurelia, darling-”

“I mean it. Every time Father looks at me, I see it in his eyes,” she choked. “He resents me. If he had the choice between me or Mama, he’d have taken Mama without even thinking about it. Sazha made me happy. I didn’t have to feel guilty about being myself when I was with him, ever. And now he’ll be on the other side of the world and I’ll just- I’ll be here, making everyone unhappy just by existing. If I just hadn’t- I just-"

"Aurelia-"

"I just wish I could be someone else!” she wailed. "I wish I could be somewhere else, I wish I had any kind of purpose, but I don't, I'm just trapped in this cage and I can't-"

L’haiya bowed her head. There was nothing she could say and little more she could do, to speak either to her charge's frustration or her suffocating loneliness. She was a practical woman who had made a promise to a close friend to watch over her family, but nothing in that promise had prepared her for a man so bereft of his wife he could not bear to raise his own child.

Something had to be done, she thought. Or at least said. It was her fault for allowing Julian to continue as he had done for so many years, not wanting to rock the boat and tell him he needed to behave like the father he was. She decided she would speak with him tonight, as soon as she was able.

But in the meantime, she couldn't leave Aurelia alone like this. So she sat with the girl in silence, and let her weep until there were no tears left to shed.

[nerobombs]

Insert Story Here: Ishgard

(Want more? Check out my Writing tag!)

I saw a few posts about Ishgard floating about, and I guess I haven’t actually written that many things on this blog yet, so I’m going to compile some of my writings about a subject I love to hate.

Anyone who knows me or reads my forum posts (a lot of of the content of which will be shamelessly copy-pasted here because what is effort) knows of the disdainful loathing I have for Heavensward’s writing. It’s not inherently bad--at worst it’s merely mediocre, filled to the brim with paper-thin plot vehicles and McGuffins--but the potential for a good story was there. 

Indeed, compared to most video game plots and MMO plots especially, the level of coherence it manages to maintain amidst the plague-ridden retcon carcass of World of Warcraft and the slightly suspicious smells being put out by Guild Wars 2 (whose story content used to be totally absurd, but they’ve been getting better) could almost be called admirable.

Almost.

I still don’t like it, though, in the same way that a disapproving father wouldn’t be particularly fond of his rebellious daughter’s boyfriend showing off a condom shaped like the head of a great white shark to his mates at school. It’s not the object itself, but rather the implications.

If you plan on reading further, put some goggles on, because there’s a lot of debris in a train wreck.

There’s also some crude humour and crass analogies ahead too.

First, I’ll preface this by saying that I firmly believe that Heavensward’s writing was restricted by the game design. This forgives certain things. For example, if the design priority is to have the players go to Azys Lla immediately after the Dravanian Hinterlands, then the writing’s job is as simple as coming up with an utterly contrived reason to do so. It’s frustrating, sure, but there’s a reason for it.

That said, I still have several problems.

-

1). There’s no Ishgard any more!

The things that interested me the most about Ishgard were, well, the things that made it Ishgard. It was unique. Ishgard was a despotic militant theocracy waging a genocidal holy war against a superior force amidst a tumultuous climate of political ambition, religious zealotry, and class warfare. There was something fascinating about the dichotomous nature of Ishgard's politics and culture, being ostensibly built around order and a single-minded goal yet also being unstable without the unifying threat of the dragons and built on the foundations of a lie (or at least, a historical misrepresentation), and all of this was put against a tense backdrop formed by the terrifyingly absolute power of the Church and the Inquisition.

Except, all of that is gone now. Poof.

Ishgard’s not a dictatorship any more. No, Ishgard seamlessly transitioned from a dictatorship to a bicameral republic with absolutely no conflict or resistance in the slightest. Part of the problem with this is that Thordan was absolutely batshit and the story handled Thordan horribly, but more on that later.

Ishgard’s not a theocracy any more. Since Ishgard is now a secular government, the Ishgardian Orthodox Church has been rendered impotent. There’s no war and no enemy, so there’s no Inqusition. 

And perhaps most offensively of all, Ishgard’s not militant any more. The Dragonsong War is definitively ended. Yeah, you can try to make some weak justification of “But Nidhogg’s brood”, but if killing Nidhogg didn’t end the war then the stragglers are completely meaningless. The thousand-year  genocidal holy war that formed the entirety of Ishgard’s national identity for a millennia is just gone.

That means that there’s no longer any glory gained from slaying dragons. That means the Order of the Dragoon is now completely meaningless. Commoners could become nobles by applying themselves and slaying dragons, but now even that limited and dangerous social mobility no longer exists.

About the only thing that separates Ishgard from the other city states is that they have snow, now. Where it was once an environment ripe for intrigue, it’s now as deflated and as saccharine as any of the other city states.

2). The ending wasn’t earned by anyone

Ishgard becoming a more peaceful state isn’t an inherently bad thing, though. Honestly, that is kind of small potatoes. The problem is how Ishgard got there.

Heavensward’s story had no struggle and no sacrifice. At least, nothing that was meaningful or represented. Literally, Ishgard achieved its peace completely effortlessly. 

Why does Ishgard transition so smoothly to a republic? Why is it that when Aymeric says “Hey guys, the dragons said it’s our fault and they’re totally right”, everyone accepts it unanimously? Why does Aymeric manage to take on the politics of the House of Lords and House of Commons so easily and effortlessly? How come Lucia has absolutely no qualms whatsoever about Aymeric’s aide-de-camp being discovered as Garlean? How is it that the Temple Knights and most especially the Dragoons--in which having a doomed hometown that was completely incinerated by dragons and having lost everyone you loved is almost a requirement--accept the peace so readily?

The most that anyone ever suffers is that Aymeric gets stabbed with a fruit knife exactly one time, and some crazy lady in Falcon’s Nest gets shot with an arrow.

And no, Haurchefant and Ysayle most emphatically do not count. Haurchefant was a one-dimensional character whose death was padded to the brim with arbitrary, ham-fisted melodrama, and Ysayle died in a context that was completely and totally irrelevant to her character arc to the point where her death may as well have not happened and literally nothing in the story would have changed.

I'm not exactly advocating for Game of Thrones-esque levels of character death. But even in light-hearted, idealistic stories, there are struggles. There is an ordeal for our heroes to conquer, and the resolution is earned. Can you imagine if, in the Lord of the Rings, Frodo and Sam really did take the Eagles to Mordor and just dropped the ring into Mount Doom? Pop, just like that?

Estinien's struggle over Nidhogg and subsequently over his own vengeance, then dying in order to keep both of those things from continuing to hurt people he cares about. That's a struggle and sacrifice. That's a price paid to overcome a meaningful conflict, because overcoming all meaningful conflict requires a great deal of effort, sacrifice, or both. But Estinien is just fine too. Turns out, all he had to do to kill his most hated enemy was get possessed by him. Huh! More people should try that.  

Aymeric could have been a really good avatar for Ishgard’s conflict as a whole. Here we have a military man and bastard son of the Archbishop suddenly become embroiled in politics and trusted to lead the future of his nation. I keep mocking his getting stabbed with a fruit knife in 3.1, but there was some actual drama there: the nobility accused Aymeric of being a patricidal heretic and saw his removing Thordan as a power grab. And the reason why Aymeric seems mostly flat is because the world doesn't give him any consequences to deal with, and even if they do, we never see him deal with this consequences. Ishgard becomes a seamless democracy with no problem. He doesn't care about the Eyes of Nidhogg at all or the implication that Nidhogg might come back as long as they're still intact. Everyone respects and follows him without question. He faces no genuine conflict that reflects upon his character besides "He's a nice guy and does good stuff". Why is Aymeric never overwhelmed by the politics? Why do we never see his frustration from having to juggle the wants and needs of Lords and commoners? Why does he never think about the ramifications of his actions (fucking EYES OF NIDHOGG, ANYONE)? There is a lot of room for serious depth that goes wasted because ultimately, Aymeric is a side character. And the thing is that Lucia can have real depth too besides being Aymeric's arm candy. She's a defected Garlean. We can never tell if her experience as a soldier in the Empire colours her perception of Eorzea or Ishgard. We never see Aymeric really rely on her except as a patsy or a messenger. If Aymeric is busy running the country as Lord Speaker, shouldn't she be in charge of the Temple Knights? Shouldn't Lucia have some apprehensions on being found out as a Garlean and being put in a position of authority? She's devoted to Aymeric and Ishgard, but we never see her be relevant except when she's doing something in Aymeric's stead. Is she ashamed of being Garlean?

Oh well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Peace for everyone, yay!

3). The focus of the story was Fucked with a capital F

Maybe it’s just me, but I am not on board with the game's fetish for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. I get that they're essentially the "main" characters and the vehicle our characters use to travel all over the place and beat up primals, but the characters are flat and completely uninteresting. I don't care! I want to see Ishgard. I want to delve into a conflicted theocracy undergoing rapid, sudden change. I want to see more Aymeric, more Lucia, more Ysayle and Estinien. Hell, I want to see more of those fucking Fortemps brats more than I want to see the Scions.

This is also where I kind of start to get a little mad.

I get that the main conflict is between the Scions and the Ascians regarding the revival of Zodiark. Fine. I just don't think that the pacing of a far more interesting storyline (the Dragonsong war) should have been completely butchered in order to make room for the Scions and Ascians who really don't even do anything besides show up in the background and remind you that things are going to happen. Not that they are happening, but that eventually there'll be some kind of payoff.

The Scions get a ridiculous amount of screen time considering how little they accomplish and how irrelevant they are to Ishgard, and it is astounding how little effort the game puts in to make us care about them. I don't care about Thancred's missing pants. I don't care about Krile being Minfillia in all but name. I stopped caring about Alphinaud when he had the audacity to tell the Warrior of fucking Light to hand out T-shirts to the Crystal Braves because there’s no Eorzean word for “delegation”.

The Scions are the main characters, fine. This wouldn’t be such a problem if any of them had more personality or dimension than a piece of drift wood. We had the perfect opportunity to explore in-depth this new land of Ishgard and Coerthas, and instead it was wasted on...the Scions.

Here's why I don't like any of the writing for the Scions: they do display a measure of depth, consequence, and respond to consequence, but the thing is that their writing is built on more bad writing. Let's take for example Thancred, who actually has some real weight among the Scions. He felt responsible for Minfillia since he got her dad killed and feels guilt over being unable to save her. He's grieved over Minfilia becoming the voice of Hydaelyn and is much less snarky and less of a womaniser, becoming more stoic as a result. There's some actual development there. Except, the subject of his dramas was a cardboard cutout who was more useless than a DVD rewinder (Minfilia), the whole reason for her death was absurd to the point of raving madness (the entire Ul'dah conflict in 2.5 that started Heavensward...jesus shit), and interactions with Thancred are mostly just exposition. Thancred is always an observer and never a subject. Urianger is about the only Scion I actually like because there is actual emotional depth there that is revealed after the death of Moenbryda and the subject of his affections wasn't totally incompetent. Alisaie got a lot of focus in the last patch, but her character is so transparently a blatant plot device that it's hard to take seriously. She appears and disappears as needed. She had a good arc during Binding Coil where she defrosts but in 3.4 she goes totally Scion-brand flat. And in 3.4, her whole drama was that she wasn't willing to kill a kobold kid who might be tempered. Our teenaged heroine might have a problem with killing children? Stop the presses, Square Enix!

Also, think about this: Moenbryda got introduced in one patch and killed in the next, and she was written way better than most of the Scions, and that was with most of her backstory being delivered via exposition dump. Square Enix can do it, they just choose not to.

4). What is pacing? Can you eat it?

Ugh.

Like I said, I don’t find it especially problematic that Ishgard underwent radical change. I do have an especially HUGE problem with how it happened, though.

If they really had to pull off the "Nidhogg comes back to life" plot device, then Heavensward should have ended with Nidhogg's first death followed immediately by Estinien's possession. 3.1 Aymeric acting in direct opposition to Archbishop Thordan in order to secure peace with Hraesvelgr's brood. 3.2 would deal with Aymeric and Co. working towards securing said peace amidst the chaos about the Dragonsong War, and still end with Vidofnir getting shanked just after a tenuous peace had been agreed upon. 3.3, Nidhogg dies. 3.4 would deal with the conflict of Ishgard's reformation and hint at Thordan’s plans to become a primal, and the expansion ends with 3.5 as Thordan become a Primal in a desperate bid to secure the theocracy's power after peace had been achieved with the dragons.

You can completely write this off as me complaining that the story is bad because I didn’t write it, sure, whatever. But let’s examine what actually happened.

Instead, more than half of the initial expansion story and the subsequent 3.1 and 3.2 patches is spent fucking around with the Scions and watching the Ascians and Warriors of Darkness twirl their bad-guy mustaches going "Guys we are totally still relevant to the story". Then Regula van Hydrus shows up to join the mustache twirling by going "Please don’t forget the Garleans, we put a lot of effort into recycling the Judges from Final Fantasy 12", and seeing Square Enix completely fucking bomb any potential that Ul'dah had to be interesting by not going through with killing off the Sultana.

Side note, what in the flying fuck was the point of the Sultana’s poisoning and the whole Ul’dah thing besides making it so Raubahn now has to put magazines on his lap to turn the pages? If you can legitimately answer this question--and no, getting the WoL to Ishgard does not count because the WoL already had a gazillion reasons to go there that weren’t idiotic--then I’ll buy you a Night Pegasus mount.

I’m going to highlight all of my subsequent issues with addressing the train wreck that is Archbishop Thordan “Wasted Opportunity VII”.

Like I said, I somewhat understand that the writing is constrained by the game design. But that doesn’t really excuse the fact that Thordan’s entire character was completely bonkers.

He locks up Aymeric, runs away from Ishgard, ninja loots the key to Azys Lla, goes to Azys Lla and becomes a primal for about twenty minutes before dying. His entire load blown in the span of a couple of days at best.

And part of this problem is how easily the majority of Ishgard accepts responsibility for starting the Dragonsong War. Thordan's response to Aymeric threatening to reveal the truth shouldn't have been to lock Aymeric up, but to say "Who would believe you?" 

The Ishgardians have been the subject of a measured genocidal war that was deliberately transformed into a war of attrition for a thousand years. Are they really such easily manipulated little worms that Aymeric and some foreign wahoo who may or may not have actually killed primals can sway a population from the entirety of their millennia-old tradition and heritage with a couple of speeches?

In addition, the main conflict between Thordan and Aymeric's ideologies in the game is implied to be order versus chaos, except Thordan's idea of "order" is completely batshit and nonsensical.

Thordan's whole deal should have been that Ishgard needs the Dragonsong War, or at least the dragons as enemies, to remain stable and to retain its heritage and national identity. For one thousand years, Ishgard's been throwing themselves at the dragons, and to completely undermine the last thousand years of war would do nothing but sow chaos and breed discontent and destroy the unity that's kept the city together all this time. That is the idea of order that Thordan should have been trying to adhere to: the status quo is god, or ends on favourable terms.

Instead, Thordan for some reason decides that the path to peace is a world of absolute order at the cost of all freedoms and the destruction of anyone who opposes him. He becomes more one dimensional in motivations than Sauron. This is some insane hypocritical thinking since he opens the gates so the Heretics can assault the foundation to fuel the prayers to become King Thordan, and this hypocrisy completely robs him of any legitimacy. There's no escalation. Thordan immediately jumps to fire the nuke that is becoming King Thordan. There's no buildup. And that's most of Heavensward's writing in a nutshell: the pacing is awful, so all these characters either fix things flawlessly in an incredibly short time with no consequences (Aymeric), or immediately become insane (Thordan) to move the plot along.

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I don’t trust Stormblood’s content to be compelling at all. Anything that was interesting about Ala Mhigo will be resolved with maybe five lines of dialogue,  tops, if Heavensward is any indication. At best, there will be an offscreen resolution that maybe makes sense if you just don’t think about it.

Ala Mhigo has the potential to have a lot of interesting themes and conflict. I just don't trust the writers to actually explore any of that, because who bothers exploring interesting themes and conflict when we can watch Yda be a princess or some shit? Look, Papalymo is hitting someone with Tupsimati! That's interesting, right? Thancred lost his pants again, uh oh! No. The Warriors of Darkness were pretty decent, but the conflict with the Ascians should really be a background thing, a sinister undertone that adds to the gravity of the Warrior of Light going around and saving the world. The instant you shove the mysteries in our face--repeatedly--it stops being a mystery and it takes all the proactivity away from our characters. Here's how we currently handle the Ascians: we sit on our happy asses and wait for them to do something, then react. And maybe we'll save Ishgard on the side if we feel like it. It should be the other way around. We should be proactively going to stop the Dragonsong war as our main motivation. We should be going to liberate Ala Mhigo as our main motivation. I don't think we should be going there with the Scions, waiting for the Ascians, and "Yeah cool the Ascians aren't doing anything, I guess we should liberate Ala Mhigo".

TL;DR i don’t like FFXIV’s story