I own little more than the shirt on my back. So if you think I own SquareEnix's FFXIV, you are crazy. Do not assume that anything I write is canon. At this point little is known about the game or it's world, and I am simply going by my imaginings.


Prologue: Sunny Skies


The sun beat unrelentingly upon the world, baking everything it touched. The bronzed backs of the locals may have been impervious to such torture, but it was enough to bring the stranger to painful consciousness. The first sensation he felt was the gentle warmth of the sun rejuvenating his battered body. The heat quickly passed beyond gentle, and reached uncomfortable, and did not stop there. The man shifted his body slightly in semi-consciousness and the screaming of his cramped muscles, combined with the gritty feel of sand in his cuts, and rubbing against his raw face roused him instantly. He slowly flexed and worked the muscles of his body til the pain was reduced to a manageable level.

Standing, he took stock of the surroundings. He winced as the sun glinted off the waters of the ocean, and hurriedly turned his attentions to more important, and far less painful, surroundings. He was standing on a long strip of beach, running off into the distance in either direction. The sand was coarse, none of that fine stuff rich people had in their hourglasses, and imagined all the worlds beaches to be made up of. There were broken bits of railings, rigging, planks, and all other manner of flotsam scattered along the beach. It took no great amount of reasoning for him to identify them as the remains of the Galina, the ship he had been aboard. Not too far away a couple of dark skinned boys were carrying off a slightly frayed bit of rope and a few salvageable bits of wood. An Elezen and a Hyur, neither spared more than a passing glance for him. The stranger didn't pay them much heed either, for before him, just beyond the beach, and spreading over the water itself in some places , was the great storied city of Limsa-Lominsa.

Breathtaking is the best description for Limsa-Lominsa. Huge bridges of impossible design connected skyscrapers, and clusters of smaller, though equally beautiful, buildings. The immensity of it all alone could speak for the city's greatness, but that would be like calling a palace a big house. The city's architecture was reminiscent of the great ships of the past, though only in the most romantic of visions. Spires, shaped like giant masts, pierced the sky, all while mammoth buildings perched, suspended above the water by pillars of intricately carved stone. The buildings were all in varying shades of whites, creams, blues, and grays. If there was a color you could find in the sky or the sea, you could find it upon this city as well. It was said that artists would trade their hands and eyes, the very tools of their livelihood, just to be able to portray Limsa-Lominsa in all its splendor.

The stranger stared at this marvel of civilization for a while before coming back to himself. He did not bother to check himself for any worldly goods. Local urchins would doubtlessly have picked his unconscious body over long ago. He simply grunted and began to trudge up the beach towards the city proper.

He was traveled enough to know that outward beauty means nothing, and all cities are the same at heart. There was no trace of the murderous storm that had brought him to this place just last night, but he knew that sunny skies are just the calm before the storm.

"Reeks of fish," he muttered sourly to himself as he went.