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Hello everyone and welcome back! We must, unfortunately, return to Luciane for a brief time. But we won't have to deal with her for very long.
I should warn you all that this update is going to cover a BRD job that has since been changed, however mildly, with the recent expansion launch. So things may not necessarily be the same. This update is going to reflect the state of the job as it was when I recorded it.
When was that, you ask?
...yes. The answer is yes.
Well met, Ginger. Would that we had the time for banter, but we're all up in arms here. Yet another Ixali dirigible has been spotted over the Twelveswood, you see. Their reappearance calls to my mind the Battle of Griffin Crossing. Well, I say "Battle"-most are agreed that "Massacre" would be rather more apt. Aye, the Ixal dealt us a crushing defeat that day. Right around this time of year, it was, more than two decades past.
A humiliating episode in our history, to be sure, but heavens forbid that we ever forget it. Failure is the finest-if not the kindest-of teachers, and few things drive a woman better than its sting. Ah, but do let's speak of cheerier matters. Mayhap you've already heard, but a renowned archer has recently returned to the Twelveswood-the one they call the "Godsbow."
That's just a title, of course. His birthname is Jehantel, and he was once of the Gods' Quiver. The man was a legend even then, and there was no honor greater than being taken under his tutelage. But that's not all there is to him, mind you. Jehantel was also a skilled bard, one of the rare few capable of inspiring others to great feats through song.
Upon learning that the Godsbow had returned, dozens of us flocked to him in hopes of training under a legend, yours truly included. Alas, the meetings haven't unfolded quite as we had hoped. Jehantel has refused to teach each and every suitor that has approached him thus far.
Though, it should be mentioned that the topics he is reluctant to instruct us in do not include poetry and song. He seems exceedingly keen to teach us all about them. Some few of us were tempted to take him up on the offer...save that we have a nation to defend. Far be it from my intent to belittle all those bards out there, but I like my chances rather better charging into battle with a quiver than a harp. <sigh> And here we were hoping that transcendent mastery of the bow might be ours...
Hm? By the sparkle in your eyes, I'd wager you have an interest in that selfsame poetry and song. Come now, there is no call for shyness, and there is more to life than battle. If you would present yourself as a pupil to Jehantel, I happen to know his whereabouts.
I'm given to understand that he has made his camp somewhere west of Quarrymill in the South Shroud. Jehantel is an agreeable sort of fellow, and should be willing enough to meet with you. Truth be told, I'm still holding on to hope. If you could find a way into Jehantel's confidence, mayhap he can yet be persuaded to train us.
I wish you the best of luck, friend.
So basically the greatest living archer in recent memory has returned to the Twelveswood and wants to teach song and poetry, but will not teach archery skills. Ginger wants to learn how to be a bard, and she's not beholden to any city-state, so she's off to learn from Jehantel.
Oh this is a sight I've seen many a time and more. Jehantel can be found just outside of Quarrymill. Some other time, when we're not learning about bardic skills, I'll tell you all about how much time I spent in Palace of the Dead.
The answer is "a lot" and then more for good measure.
Ah, another guest. You are kind to pay me visit, young one. Naught gives us elderly folk more pleasure than the company of the young. Add to that a steaming pot of tea and the beauty of the Twelveswood, and we could want for little more!
Ah. But the curl of your lip tells me that tea and scenery are not what you desire. You seek knowledge of archery, I take it? In which case, I'm afraid I must disappoint you...Ginger, was it?
Yes, yes, I am Jehantel, the one they called the Godsbow-but that was in another life. I have long cast aside my bow, taking instead a harp to my breast. For years, I have lived as a bard, going wherever the wind blows, exulting in the beauty of creation through song.
To be sure, I still have the eyes to recognize a promising archer when I see one. And you, young one, have promise. Keep your nose to the grindstone, and one day you may count yourself a virtuoso of the bow. Yet know that virtuosity is worthless without virtue. Aye, the words of the Ballad of the Vainglorious Fool tell us this much.
Actually...
...You truly wish to remain and learn poetry and verse? Well, well, well...I must admit to being rather taken aback. In uncertain days such as these, there are few indeed who would devote their time to song as opposed to more "tangible" endeavors.
You intrigue me, young one. I find myself growing curious as to how the melodies of old might find expression through you. I do believe a certain friend of mine would be of the selfsame opinion. Aye, that would be as good a place as any for us to begin.
Listen well, Ginger. There is a moogle named Pukno Poki, who can oft be found wandering an area situated east of here. I would have you present yourself to him. Pukno Poki is possessed of a discerning eye for talent. If he sees potential in you, I should be well satisfied that you indeed have the makings of a bard.
Heed me, O Puissant Althyk! Turn Thee over the hourglass of time, that we might gaze upon the battles of yore!
Way over in the far corner of the zone we can find our moogle friend waiting.
Kupoarrrgh! How could this have happened? It's just so...embarrassing! A blunder for the ages, kupo! Hm? You understand what I'm saying, don't you? That's a rare talent, I'll allow, but you've caught me at a bad time, kupo. Now, be a good adventurer and show yourself out-
Hold on now...
Jehantel sent you!? You should have said so sooner, kupo! You do know that Jehantel is no ordinary bard, yes? His songs can salve your heart and strengthen your resolve. They can banish your fears and fill you with hope...and that's not even scratching the surface! Why, to hear him perform is like bathing in sunbeams, kupo!
I've asked, begged, and pled more times than I care to count for Jehantel to stay and sing in the forest. Only now has he deigned to set foot here again...but he's refusing to sing for us. That's a blatant breach of promise, kupo!
...But what's this? Why, your being resonates with a chord similar to Jehantel's! Perhaps even identical, kupo! By the Twelve, this means that things may yet turn out as planned! Why, you might even have it in you to surpass the man, and that's saying a lot, kupo!
Egads! Your coming had so excited me, my predicament nigh escaped my mind! There's a charm that I had meant to give to Jehantel, you see, but it was stolen as I napped, kupo! I roused just in time to espy the thief and attempted to give chase. Alas, drowsiness robbed me of my balance and I was...delayed by this tree.
Last I saw of that overbold brigand, he-or possibly she-was scurrying towards Takers' Rot, kupo. Now, I realize we've only just met, but would you mind recovering the charm and delivering it to Jehantel in my stead?
We just need to march into a hive of catgirl poachers, steal something, and march back out. It's actually pretty easy because we use a bow to drive arrows at high speeds through the air.
Like two minutes later we find the item in the back of their hideout.
Back at Pukno Poki...
Have you recovered the charm?
I have the soul crystal right here!
You did it, kupo! Please, you must now deliver it to Jehantel. Tell him that Pukno Poki thinks him a cunning rogue, but is excited nonetheless! So excited, in fact, that he cannot help but sing!
Kupololololo~?
It really is a soul crystal too.
See?
Welcome back, Ginger. Hm? You have a charm and a message for me from Pukno Poki, you say?
These are his words and not mine, mind...
A cunning rogue, am I? Hah hah hah! I suppose I must explain. Pukno Poki and I go back a long way, to when first I took up the harp. I made a promise to him then, one that I have yet to make good on.
Pukno Poki has long desired that I remain in the Twelveswood to sing for the rest of my days. Regrettably, I have been ill able to oblige him. Duty called, you see-I had battlefields to stand upon and comrades to protect. Moreover, an event came to pass that rendered my being in the Twelveswood...problematic. I thought that by taking eager souls such as you under my wing, mayhap it would suffice to appease Pukno Poki.
Of course, he saw straight through my little ruse. What the moogles lack in grace, they amply make up for in wit. The creatures are great lovers of song. That you return with this charm is proof positive of his high regard for your potential as bard and archer both.
The charm is a crystal known as the Soul of the Bard. Pukno Poki asked that you bring it to me, aye, but he meant for you to have it. It is a gift from the moogles, bestowed upon those they deem worthy of walking the path of the true bard. The Soul of the Bard harbors memories of the past-verses and refrains sung by the bards of old.
As you gain in worldly experience, more of these memories will find expression through your being, imbuing your song with powers untold. Now, it may surprise you to hear that bowmen and bards are as next of kin. By the same token, mastery of song is dependent upon one's prowess as an archer.
The sense in this will be lost upon you at first, but in time the realization will dawn that bow and harp are but stringed instruments played by the same hand. Go now, Ginger, and let your body and soul drink deep of the melodies of old. When next we meet, I hope to see a fully fledged bard standing before me...one who exceeds even Pukno Poki's wildest expectations.
:hmmyes:
Heck yeah! Ginger can now strum a lyre and shoot a bow.
Bards eventually learn three different songs to play in battle, starting with Mage's Ballad here. It... raises party damage by a whole 1%. 
It also has a high chance to reduce the cooldown of Bloodletter by 7.5 seconds.
New with Endwalker, which need I remind you launched more than 10 years into the game's life, is that the 1% damage bonus now applies to the Bard singing the ballad as well.
Bards are not typically well represented in most parties you'll see. They require way too much work for way too little payoff. And the party buffs they bring, like 1% extra damage, are so meaningless they may as well not exist altogether.
In most cases, Dancers can do what Bards can do better and with far less work required.
Before we continue with the BRD quests... let's go visit Simpkin in Gridania.
Have you come to listen to the silken strings of Simpkin, traveling troubadour and master minstrel? No? You do, however, have the look of one who lives life on the road-and on the subject of wondrous wanderings and the musical expression thereof, I do mayhap have some small wisdom to offer.
When I suddenly find my heart stirred by some spectacle of nature or inspiring act of derring-do, I simply let the emotion of the moment flow through my fingers and into my harp. I've found no sound to be as achingly beautiful as one born from that instant of genuine joy or wistful sadness.
You need no special training or knowledge to give voice to the music of the heart-only a willingness to play the score as it writes itself across your soul. If you can accomplish such a surrender, then you will have created a piece unique unto yourself. And what melody could be more precious!?
Aye, I knew from the moment I laid eyes upon you-here is a woman whose spirit begs for instrumental interpretation. Pray release your inhibitions, and favor the world with your performance!
Be sure to read this carefully. They make you super duper pinky promise swear not to play licensed music with the Perform action.
99.9999% of what anyone plays with the Perform action is licensed music. Square had to know this was not only completely unenforceable but something literally no player would read.
To begin, you should simply play whichever notes catch your fancy. Let whimsy carry you up and down the scales, revel in the soaring heights and plunging depths, until you find a song which resonates with your being.
Painted with the experience of your adventures, the timbre and tone will be yours and yours alone. Ah, I wonder what manner of music will fill the air... May the wind catch your composition, and deliver it unto my covetous ear!
These are all the instruments that Ginger is now suddenly capable of playing on a whim. There's even more at the bottom.
I pick one of the electric guitar options and the perform screen pops up. There's 17 keybinds here and nothing you assign will ever feel comfortable. I'm serious. This is at least a lot better than it used to be, where the perform actions were just literally every note that you could possibly play with pitch and octave shifts included.
Ginger at least looks pretty cool with her silly beret.
Things that bother you never bother me, I'm so happy I'm high... Ha ha! Living in the sunlight, loving in the mooonlight, having a wonderful time~
Ah, that glint of determination in your eyes is a testament to your newfound strength. You put me in mind of my salad days, Ginger.
Hey...
Hm? You would know why I truly abandoned the battlefield and became a bard? That I took an arrow in the knee is what most folk believe...but it is quite clear you are not "most folk." Very well. I shan't insult your intelligence with an untruth.
For now, allow me to answer by saying that everything in creation is given to change, and man most of all. I was drawn to the power of song-the power to touch the very souls of men-and decided that I must pursue it. Sadly, that power has been all but forgotten in this age of cynicism. Such songs as those performed by tavern bards serve no purpose beyond the amusement of drunkards. But that was not always the way of it. There was a time when song could shape the outcome of conflict.
Ever since nations first quarreled, armies have fielded archers wherewith they rained death upon the enemy from afar. As the battle unfolded, however, the distinction between the lines of friend and foe would grow hazy. Yet the archer's part did not end there. He had to stay ever alert, with arrow nocked and eyes trained upon the struggle. Even as his comrades fell, turning the earth red with their blood, the archer could ill afford to avert his gaze, lest that moment cost another his life.
One need not have a vivid imagination to appreciate the torrent of emotions that raged within him in that moment. Nerves near to fraying, his breast fit to burst, the archer did the only thing he could: he sang. His bow became a makeshift instrument, plucked as an accompaniment.
At first, the archer sang only to still the roiling within. But his voice chanced to carry to his comrades. It inspirited those engaged in combat, lending strength to their sword arms. And to those who lay upon the precipice of death, it granted a measure of peace. Realizing the tactical potential of song, yet loath to set aside skilled archers for that purpose, armies began raising dedicated regiments of minstrels. But the members of such units were no warriors, Ginger.
Fair of voice and nimble of finger, these career minstrels could find a place in the hall of any lord. Yet they knew naught of the burden borne by those who charge into battle-whose lot is to dance with death and sup on pain. And so their songs rang hollow, holding no power over the hearts of men.
In eastern La Noscea, spirits are said to haunt the trees of Raincatcher Gully. I would ask you to travel there and await the emergence of these specters. Through force of arms you are to release the spirits from their tormented existence and, in the doing, ease their unfathomable suffering. With such a deed might you draw forth an ancient melody from the Soul of the Bard.
Clear across Eorzea we travel...
To this random hilltop in Eastern La Noscea.
Here we have to kill some random enemies. Sure...?
Welp, back to Jehantel we go!
Welcome back, Ginger. In your eyes I see a layer of understanding...of regret, and of futility. And in your heart? It now echoes with the strains of an old song, newly discovered.
Embrace this song, and as you play it in battle shall ever more powerful emotions beset and temper your soul. When your stock of tales has grown, pray return and regale me with stories of your adventures.
Warden's Paean is a cleanse! If they don't have a debuff to cleanse, then it puts a shield on the target that prevents the next debuff from landing. Pretty handy!
This is an odd time for recollection, but it was a spring day when a bard first came to my hometown. He played the most sorrowful chords, even as his words tantalized the ear like the breath of one's first love. Many a maiden's heart was stolen during his visit...and doubtless more besides.
Ginger. Would you believe that common bards, too, were born of archers? This may seem far-fetched upon first hearing, but it isn't so far a stretch. Ask yourself this: what becomes of soldiers when conflict gives way to peacetime? Some have lives they might return to, aye, but most must needs take up a new trade to make ends meet. Well, it so happened that many who had once bent the bow took to strumming the harp.
They wandered the realm, singing passionately and earnestly of the war as seen through their own eyes-of sweet victories and bitter defeats, of sacrifice and cowardice. Their songs so captured the imagination of the people, nary a day passed that a bard was not called to perform, be it in a humble tavern or some great lord's hall. Alas, their popularity proved their downfall. Intoxicated by the attentions of the masses, the bards took to embellishing their songs in a bid to outdo one another.
And over time, each song was shorn of verity, till the bard's repertoire contained not one shred of truth. By now you will know that such songs have no purchase upon men's hearts. Certainly, a bawdy tune may set off fits of laughter in a sailor, and a sorrowful ballad summon tears from the eyes of a soft-hearted maiden. Yet these are but pale shadows of what songs can achieve.
For a blessing, this decline did not escape the notice of the moogles. As great patrons of the arts, they feared that the true power of song might be lost to mankind. So it was that they labored to gather and safeguard those crystals known as Souls of the Bard, that they might be bestowed upon worthy men and women.
Now, well as I know you relish listening to my sermons, I daresay it's past time we moved on to the practical side of the lesson. I know I have mentioned this previously, but tell me, are you perchance familiar with the Ballad of the Vainglorious Fool?
I don't believe so...
Nay? Well, that won't do at all. We must remedy this posthaste. The song recounts the Massacre of Griffin Crossing, a battle that took place decades past, wherein countless Gridanian lives came to a premature end. Ah, but do forgive me-I seem to have mistaken the proper order of things. Before I begin, I must be convinced that the point of the tale will not be lost upon you. Elsewise I will have wasted my breath in the telling of it.
Now, heed well these instructions. You must make your way to Wellwick Wood, where resides a mated pair of aldgoats that have but recently lost a kid. The pair has been driven mad with grief, and only death will put an end to the uncontrolled rampages. Linger in their territory until you encounter the beasts, then let fly your arrows of mercy. As you liberate them from their sorrow, so too shall your soul resonate with the echoes of poignant melody.
Down south in Eastern Thanalan we find the next quest location...
...and a pair of goats later we're done!
Welcome back, Ginger. I can almost hear the cries of mourning that have seared themselves into your soul. That you remain unbowed by such anguish is a testament to your spirit's fortitude. Yet even as your heart swells to contain these new experiences, you must not neglect your skills with the bow.
A resilient heart must needs have a robust body in which to beat. Once you have trained both to equal strength, then shall I perform for you the Ballad of the Vainglorious Fool.
Army's Paeon is the next song that Ginger learns, and the last one she will learn in this LP.
It's the "strongest" song in that it increases direct hit rate by 3%. It also reduces Ginger's GCD by up to 16% if she plays it long enough. This is an incredibly powerful effect as you might imagine.
I am also not sure if that effect even comes into play at such a low level. It's remarkably difficult to get tooltip information that isn't for max level players because who honestly cares what skills do in Labyrinth of the Ancients or Praetorium? I'm sure someone will correct me on this and if they do, I'll edit it in below.
Welcome back, Ginger. By your tranquil countenance, it is plain that both your body and soul are in readiness for the next stage of your journey. Very well. The time is ripe that I teach you the Ballad of the Vainglorious Fool.
The song tells the tale of an archer of the Gods' Quiver whose peerless skill was surpassed only by his hubris. Alas, that hubris led to the annihilation of his entire regiment at the battle which has come to be called the Massacre of Griffin Crossing. Ahem!
Jehantel gets out his harp.
Standing guard in dead of night,[music note]
An archer, wearying of the sight,[music note]
Drunk on pride and starved of glory,[music note]
Forsook his post to claim victory.[music note]
Ten score yalms had the archer crept,[music note]
When shrieks rang out whence his comrades slept,[music note]
For he was not there to see the knives,[music note]
Nor to ring the bell and save friends' lives.[music note]
Ah, but hold that thought-what your tongue claims to understand interests me not. As before, I'd sooner have you demonstrate the fruits of your learning with bow in hand. This time, however, you shall have the pleasure of my company.
I would have you escort me to the Gelmorra Ruins in the North Shroud. It is there that some few fallen from the Massacre of Griffin Crossing have been laid to rest. Pray honor this place of remembrance with a bouquet of lilies. Heed me, O Puissant Althyk! Cast Thee back the rains to the firmament, that we might gaze upon the battles of yore!
We're headed off to Fallgourd Float in North Shroud.
Kiss of Chaos
It's raining when Ginger and Jehantel arrive at the memorial site.
The enemy van!?
However, his eyes widen...
The camera is swaying and shaking here. It's meant to be Jehantel's point of view.
No... I...I cannot...
Another flash of a dead friend.
Ginger apparently did not hear him muttering to himself until this point.
An Ixal scout party descends on Ginger and Jehantel...
A Fine Death
And the truth finally comes out. The Ballad of the Vainglorious Fool is obviously about him, and he's still dealing with the guilt of letting those he was watching over die.
Normally Ginger would be the first to yell at someone for being a dick, but even she realizes this is not the time, nor would it do any good. Plus it's just a handful of Ixal.
The duty ends once the scout dies.
Sacred Bonds
A little ways away, she finds Jehantel by himself.
As you have doubtless noticed, I am no longer capable of wielding a bow-I, whom they call the Godsbow.
I had hoped that the years would take the edge off the memories...but I hoped in vain. Absolution does not come so easily. Heed me well, Ginger, for I shall reveal all to you. The man sung of in the Ballad of the Vainglorious Fool, whose hubris doomed an entire regiment-he and I are one and the same.
Being no stranger to the bow, you will know that the archer's role in battle is that of support. His charge is to thin out the enemy line, that his comrades might gain ground in the field of battle. By that most basic of criteria, I was unfit to hold a bow from the first.
From the way he's clutching that miqo'te, I have to assume he had feelings for her.
In my pride and lust for glory, I sent countless souls to a bloody grave-good men and women all, with loved ones and bright futures awaiting them. I lost the will to live that day, becoming an empty husk of a man, tormented in sleep and wakefulness both by the memories of my crime.
Even in A Realm Reborn, you can see shades of what the game will eventually become. Bard's job quests are nothing until the 45 quest when they suddenly shift into maximum "holy shit." When I said in the previous update that character writing is what the game does best... just look at Jehantel here. Those flashes of his dead comrades were powerful and kind of chilling.
A new melody resounds within you, I see. Though this outing was rather far departed from what I had in mind, that it still bore fruit gives me comfort.
On that note, let us conclude the lesson. I daresay I have no cause to worry that you will repeat the selfsame mistake as the vainglorious fool. Ginger, I would be alone for a while. Take yourself back to camp-I shall make my own way there presently.
I am glad to see you safely returned. Though I rasp my voice hoarse through the saying of it, I cannot tell you enough times how much I regret dragging you into such danger. ...And yet, there is more I would ask of you. If you would do me the kindness of lending your ear, then pray speak now.
Rain of Death is another AOE skill for Bard. It shares a recast timer with Bloodletter, and Mage's Ballad reduces the CD of both by half each time it procs. It's pretty powerful!
You will listen to my request though you know me for the vainglorious fool I am? I am humbled. The boon I ask of you is simple: I would have you sing for me.
Ginger sings for Jehantel
Tranquility
Hearing your song this day, I am convinced that you are well on your way to surpassing me, as bard and archer both. Soon there will be naught left for me to impart to you. Ginger. You have proven yourself worthy of the consecrated garments worn by the true bards of old to honor the Keeper. I speak of the choral attire.
The attire was entrusted to me when Pukno Poki and I first met, deep within the Twelveswood. The moogle and I had traded scarce more than a handful of words when he proffered to me the attire along with the Soul of the Bard.
At that time, I knew not the true power of song, and so declined the gifts...but Pukno Poki would not be denied. For all his good humor, the moogle can be as unmoving as a rock. "The attire chooses the wearer, not the other way 'round," he insisted, and I found myself yielding to his will. In mastering the verses of war, I won acclaim beyond my wildest dreams upon the field of battle, and for a time I was well pleased.
Alas, my lust for glory knew no bounds, the consequence of which you are already aware. It was in the wake of the Massacre of Griffin Crossing. Stricken with guilt, I wanted naught more than the earth to open up to swallow me whole. I had lost the will to live, aye, but I was too craven to end it myself.
And so I took to wandering aimlessly, in search of a place to die, far away from the judging eyes of men. Disillusioned with the power of song, I committed an act of folly: I scattered the choral attire across the realm. "If truly the attire chooses its wearer," I challenged, "then let it find its way back to me."
Determined that I would not be proven wrong, I went to great pains to ensure that the attire would never again see the light of day, and the pieces now rest in places of peril. Being the proud fool that I was, it never crossed my mind that mayhap another was meant to don it. I would entrust the choral attire to you, Ginger. But as you can see, you must needs brave the dangers to claim it. I shall mark its whereabouts on your map, but I can afford you no further aid beyond that.
I am deeply sorry that my folly of years past has entailed this burden upon you. But Althyk works in mysterious ways-in His wisdom, it may be that He has sent this trial to test your spirit. I mean not for my sentiments to encumber you, but I am convinced that you are the one chosen by the choral attire.
But pray do not take that as license for complacency. Trials wouldn't be called such if they failed to tax one's ability. Stay ever on your toes, Ginger. I would have you return whole of body, and bearing the four parts of my surrendered raiment.
The first piece is at Urth's Gift in the South Shroud.
Way up in the ass end of the East Shroud, in tempered Sylph territory we can find the second piece.
Way over next to Castrum Meridianum we can find the third piece.
And then somewhere vaguely near the Sahagin beast tribe we can find the fourth piece.
So, you have returned-sound of body and mind, I trust? And you bear the four parts of the choral attire! I knew you for the true owner of these garments ere I heard your song. Since the day we met, your determination has reminded me of much that I have lost...and would have again.
I have at last settled my heart on a matter that has plagued me for some decades. When my preparations are complete, you shall know of my decision. Until then, may your song lift the spirits of your allies, and your arrows seek the hearts of your foes.
Ginger is wearing an Ironworks set because she's level 50.
You have done well, my young apprentice. In returning with the choral attire, you have reaffirmed my faith in you. I see no further reason to withhold from you the existence of the final piece in the set...the piece that has brought us together.
Listen well, Ginger. When I put down my bow, I vowed never again to set foot in the Twelveswood. That I now forsake my oath is for no other reason than to impart my knowledge to one who would succeed me. Lest you wonder why I should deem that so important, permit me to relate to you an event which brought about a great change in me.
My most recent journey had taken me to Ul'dah, where I found myself ambling through the marketplace early one morn. Browsing the wares on display, mine eyes were met with a relic from my past: a piece from the choral attire that I had discarded decades before, countless malms away.
I felt at once that it was not mere chance that had reunited me with it, and put forth the coin with nary a pause. Holding the garment in my hands, I resolved to find a worthy heir to my legacy. Alas, no sooner had I arrived in the Twelveswood than I found myself mobbed by archers seeking to hone their skills. Amongst those who came, not a one showed the least interest in poetry and verse.
Sorely discouraged and regretting my decision, I made to strike camp and leave the Twelveswood once more, never to return. It was then that you appeared, young one. When you expressed your desire to learn song, I could scarce contain my joy.
Looking back, I am fully convinced that our meeting had been preordained. Your coming has instilled me with the courage to attend that matter of which I spoke earlier. I am ready-ready to make a pilgrimage to the scene of my regiment's demise.
Ever since that fateful day, I have been haunted by visions of my fallen comrades, torment graven upon their bloodied faces. Lost to hope but too craven to end my own life, I wandered the land aimlessly, seeking a place to die. But the heavens denied me even that.
Yet just when it seemed that despair would draw me wholly into its black abyss, never to emerge again, a melody resounded within me. It was then that I awakened to the power of song and found new purpose in life.
I embarked upon a journey to master such verses as would bestow peace upon the fallen, that I might lay the tortured souls of my comrades to rest.
It has taken long years, but now I believe I can offer a requiem worthy of my comrades. To do so, however, I require one last favor of you, Ginger. I would have you escort me to the west of the Observatorium, in the Coerthas central highlands.
It is there that we shall find the scene of my regiment's demise. Your presence kindles within me a courage I had thought lost. I would have none other by my side as I undertake this pilgrimage-now, as I enter the most daunting stage of my life.
Once you arrive, I ask that you pay your respects with another bouquet of Nymeia lilies. When my requiem is sung, you shall have the final piece of the choral attire.
Here on an unremarkable cliffside is a grave marker for the massacre.
Ginger places the Nymeia lillies on the marker and...
Jehantel strums his lyre...
Damnation
And from the direction of the Observatorium comes an ixal. Sure...?
Several ixal.
...many ixal.
We are surrounded! And our foes seem disinclined to listen to parley.
Breaking Boundaries
You must survive this, Ginger! My soul is overburdened with the deaths of too many dear companions.
My bow... I cannot... Does cruel fate seek to stain my hands once more?
Jehantel the Godsbow: I shall aid you as best I can. Ginger! To my side!
Jehantel the Godsbow: No more lives will be lost to my folly! May my songs envelop and protect you! Ginger! You must not fall! Hear my song, and be invigorated!
Ginger is a deadly shot with her bow now.
Ginger. Without you, I would not be standing here this day. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Forgive me, my friends. I have kept you waiting overlong.
The camera focuses on the last ixal...
...who is not dead.
He goes to make a strike of opportunity at Ginger...
Quick as a flash, the arrow pierces its skull.
Seems like Jehantel's hands have not forgotten their skill.
Tranquility
It was you, young one, who helped me to remember how. I had known this for some time, but your presence is as a salve for the wounds of my soul. Your coming has delivered me from the nightmares of my past.
My worthy successor. To you I entrust the final piece of the choral attire. Don it, and go forth to fill the hearts of men with courage and purpose.
Though the seasons may turn, bending a man's back and dimming his eye, so long as there is life, there is reason to hope. Thank you, Ginger, for showing me the truth of this.
With the blood of my comrades upon my hands, to simply draw breath racked me with such guilt as I could not bear. But the time for mourning is past.
I shall take up the bow once more and lend what aid I can to the Gods' Quiver. In fighting for those who yet live, I do my fallen comrades the greatest honor.
Yet another melody resounds within you, I see. Then there is naught more I can impart to you. As equals, let us together give praise to life and all the joy that it brings!
I thank you again, Ginger. You have blessed this old fool with the gentle touch of salvation. Eorzea awaits! Go forth now, and inspire endless hope and courage with the beauty of your songs. May we one day meet again.
Battle Voice increases the direct hit rate of yourself and nearby party members by 20%. Direct hits are basically a second type of critical hit. If a strike is both a direct hit and a critical hit, that's when you'll see big dick damage numbers.
This concludes the bard quests for FINAL FANTASY XIV: A Realm Reborn. In order to undertake the next series of quests, you must first meet the following requirements:
You must have completed the main scenario quest "Before the Dawn." Once you have done so, the next bard quest will be available from Jehantel.
There wasn't a lot to say about the BRD quests, but they were pretty good regardless.
NEXT TIME: We finish off patch 2.1 with some hard mode dungeons and a peek at everyone's favorite drunkard and his moneylender.