Vayne Carudas Solidor (
cruentatafoedus) wrote in
concordancegrimoires2015-02-04 04:47 pm
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Entry tags:
[Action/Hunt in the Salikawood | OTA]
That tricky bunny keeps eluding me! Someone catch it and get that Stardust off its tail. Actually, bring me the whole tail. I need both for my potions. No, bring me the whole carcass. The meat will make a fine dinner.
[One path, then three - all are dead ends. Indeed, he did employ his skill, a bit of magick, hop an airship after learning of the Hunt from a strange little fellow to, of course, meander around as though the sticky, steamy jungle had wormed its way into his head.]
[Just go back and forth, the Moogles in the area have explained to him, though the game is rare, something about the little creature has a particular fondness for jumping out and trying to surprise people in the section of map his grimoire provides called The Sun-Dappled Path. They also try to explain that sometimes relentlessly killing a Wyrdhare helps, and he's already killed two of them with no luck (there's also some strange guilt killing the little creatures after they so merrily dropped a chipped hi-potion on his head, skittering away when he jumped at suddenly becoming wet, albeit feeling better).]
[He doesn't admit he's spent a bit more of his time noting the path to the Necrohol of Nabudis, that in some part he is here because...it is there, and he has spent time watching the lumbering beasts, the things that used to be people clambering from the earth thanks to his actions. Surely his brother needs to retain Nabradia, but at times, when he narrowly avoids a bomb thanks to his skills being primarily physically based (and one has indeed already blown up in his face), he thinks it should be left alone.]
[Walking and thinking seems to be about the only thing he can do until the troublemaker appears, and think he does.]
[Whichever god invented the Malboro, by the way, should truly be punished. The smell is amazing.]
[One path, then three - all are dead ends. Indeed, he did employ his skill, a bit of magick, hop an airship after learning of the Hunt from a strange little fellow to, of course, meander around as though the sticky, steamy jungle had wormed its way into his head.]
[Just go back and forth, the Moogles in the area have explained to him, though the game is rare, something about the little creature has a particular fondness for jumping out and trying to surprise people in the section of map his grimoire provides called The Sun-Dappled Path. They also try to explain that sometimes relentlessly killing a Wyrdhare helps, and he's already killed two of them with no luck (there's also some strange guilt killing the little creatures after they so merrily dropped a chipped hi-potion on his head, skittering away when he jumped at suddenly becoming wet, albeit feeling better).]
[He doesn't admit he's spent a bit more of his time noting the path to the Necrohol of Nabudis, that in some part he is here because...it is there, and he has spent time watching the lumbering beasts, the things that used to be people clambering from the earth thanks to his actions. Surely his brother needs to retain Nabradia, but at times, when he narrowly avoids a bomb thanks to his skills being primarily physically based (and one has indeed already blown up in his face), he thinks it should be left alone.]
[Walking and thinking seems to be about the only thing he can do until the troublemaker appears, and think he does.]
[Whichever god invented the Malboro, by the way, should truly be punished. The smell is amazing.]