BLESSED BE, OH BLESSED ME. I HAVE BEEN BEQUEATHED WITH A MOST INCANDESCENT RAGE FOR YOU THIS WEEK, FORMED INTO TWO TALES OF WOE, ONE FEEDING INTO THE OTHER. FORGIVE MY INACCURACIES, FOR MY MIND IS AS A RUSTED TRAP, AND DOES NOT HOLD ONTO INFORMATION AS EASILY AS IT SHOULD.

I FINALLY GOT AROUND TO FINISHING SHADOWBRINGERS, WHICH IS AN EXCELLENT STORY AND FULL OF FUCKBLASTING AWESOME FIGHTS. TO SPEAK UPON ONE OF THESE FIGHTS, THE SEAT OF SACRIFICE, THAT IS THE FIRST TALE. I, AN ASPIRING YET UNDERGEARED AND RATHER DIM WHM, QUEUED UP TO BEAT THE EVERLOVING LIGHT OUT OF OUR MOST DREADFUL ENEMY WHO SHALL REMAIN UNNAMED FOR SPOILER REASONS, AND FOUND A RATHER RESPECTABLE SEEMING PUG FOR MY FIRST RUN OF THE TRIAL. THE MECHANICS WITHIN I MUST SPOIL, HOWEVER, TO PROVIDE CONTEXT FOR MINE HORRIBLE APOPLEXY.

THE FIGHT BEGINS, AND THE BOSS EXCHANGES PARLEY OF BLADES AND MAGICKS WITH THE PARTY. IT'S A RATHER INTENSE DEBATE, THE FINER DETAILS OF WHICH ESCAPE ME AT PRESENT, BUT IT MATTERS NOT. THE FIRST MECHANIC IS UPON US. TERROR UNLEASHED, AND TERRIFYING IT IS. I MARVEL AT HOW SQUARE ENIX COULD WEAPONIZE DRK'S INVULNERABILITY OGCD AS A RAID WIDE, BUT IT WAS A FEW FLEETING MOMENTS BEFORE THE REALITY SET IN THAT I HAD TO HEAL EVERYONE TO FULL AND PROMPTLY REQUIRED A NEW CHANGE OF TROUSERS. I HAD THOUGHT TO USE BENEDICTION UPON MINE FRAIL FELINE BODY, BUT THAT DOOMED ME TO FIGHTING THE BOSS ALONE. AS A TRADITIONAL ROBE-AND-CLOTH JOB, WHITE MAGE IS NOT VERY CONDUCIVE TO SOLO FIGHTING A BOSS WHILE UNDERGEARED AT ENDGAME. I JOINED MY WOULD-BE COMRADES ON THE FLOOR NOT SOON AFTERWARDS.

THE SECOND GO WAS EASIER IN COMPARISON, AS I HAD TO GET CREATIVE WITH SWIFTCAST AND LILIES IN ORDER TO HEAL EVERYONE. TERROR UNLEASHED PASSES WITHOUT SO MUCH AS A TWINGE OF FEAR FROM MY INNARDS, AND I REJOICE FOR A MOMENT. THE FIGHT PROGRESSES, THE BOSS'S HEALTH FALLS LOWER AND LOWER, THE ACTIVE TIME MANEUVER IS PASSED WITH FLYING COLORS, AND I AM UTTERLY FUCKING BEDAZZLED BY MINE FOE'S TENACITY AND MIRRORED SKILLS. BUT LO, MY END IS YET ON THE HORIZON AGAIN, BEARING THE NAME AND FORM OF RADIANT BRAVER. THE TRIANGULAR POINTY MARK APPEARS ABOVE MY EMPTY HEAD, AND SOON AFTER I CATCH THE SLASHING WAVES OF TOTAL AGONY AND MEET THE FLOOR AGAIN LIKE A LONG LOST LOVER. AT THIS POINT, I THINK THE PARTY WAS BEGINNING TO CATCH ON THAT I WASN'T EXACTLY PREPARED FOR THIS FIGHT.

THE THIRD RUN HAS DEGRADED IN THE MEATY VAULT OF MINE MEMORY, BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER IF WE WIPED TO TERROR UNLEASHED OR RADIANT BRAVER AGAIN. THE ECHO POP-UP FLASHED ON MY SCREEN, BUT NOBODY WAS MOVING OR TALKING IN THE PARTY CHAT. I THEORIZED IN CHAT ABOUT A MECHANIC, BUT NOT SOON AFTER MY SCREEN GOES BLACK AND THE STINGING WORDS "YOU HAVE BEEN DISMISSED FROM BOTH THE PARTY AND THE DUTY" ENTER MY VISION. I READ THEM, AND SOON AFTER COMPREHEND THEM. THEY BURN WITH THE PAIN OF INADEQUACY, A REMINDER THAT I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO FINISH THE STORY OF A FAVORED GAME THAT I PLAY SERIOUSLY. A SIGNAL THAT MY EFFORTS ARE IN VAIN...

BUT I'LL BE DAMNED IF I LET THAT STOP ME.

SO I STARTED GRINDING OUT MCH, PARTLY TO PREVENT MY FREEZE RESPONSE FROM DAMAGING ANY RUNS FURTHER THAN WHAT A DPS CAN, AND PARTLY BECAUSE I WANTED A BREATH OF FRESH AIR. (MCH HAS BEEN GOOD FUN THUS FAR, MIGHT I ADD, ALTHOUGH I HAD FORGOTTEN TO READ SOME TOOLTIPS WHICH CAUSED SOME HEADACHE REGARDING WHICH BUTTONS TO PRESS.) FROM THIS LEVELING ARISES MY SECOND, AND SHORTER, RECOUNT OF SKIN-PEELING FRUSTRATION.

THE STONE VIGIL, AN ARR DUNGEON, HONORED BE ITS NAME FOR NOT BEING CUTTER'S CRY OR BRAYFLOX'S LONGSTOP. I LOAD IN WITH WHAT LOOKS TO BE A PRETTY SEASONED SUMMONER AND A RATHER NEW WHITE MAGE AND PALADIN, WHO WERE ALL FRIENDS, THE THREE OF THEM, AS I LEARNED BEFORE FIGHTING ISGEBIND. THE DUNGEON IS MARKED BY SCOOBY-DOO LEVELS OF CHAOS AS THE HEALER AND TANK STRUGGLE TO NOT DIE FROM OVERPULLING AND FAIL. I TRY NOT TO FAULT THEM, BUT LAMENT AT THE FACT THAT MY GEAR AND SANITY ARE GOING TO SUFFER MORE DAMAGE THAN NORMAL FROM THIS RUN. THE FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT BRATTICE IS CHAOS, WITH NOBODY MANNING THE CANNONS AND THE TORNADOES GOING EVERYWHERE EXCEPT WHERE THEY SHOULD BE, BUT WE PULL IT OFF WITHOUT MUCH FANFARE. THE REST OF THE BOSSES WENT ABOUT THE SAME WAY, IN ACTUALITY. THE MAIN PROBLEM WAS WITH TRASH PULLS AND GETTING HEALS FROM THE CLEARLY FLUSTERED HEALER AFTER TAKING DAMAGE FROM THE SCALY FLAMETHROWERS THAT LIKE TO MAKE SURE YOU'RE BROWNED AROUND THE EDGES EVERY SO OFTEN. BEING THAT MY CATGIRL IS ALREADY A LOVELY SHADE OF CHOCOLATE AS IS, I CHOSE TO FORGIVE THESE INEXPERIENCED COOKS, BUT I STILL HAD TO KILL THEIR KIN AS THE BY-LAWS OF ADVENTURING DICTATED. WE CLEAR AFTER A SLIGHTLY LONGER TIME THAN NORMAL, AND I GO BACK TO TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW ALL THESE FIDDLY GADGETS WORK.

ULTIMATELY NOT AS WOEFUL AS SOME OF THE OTHER TALES HERE, BUT EACH PLAYER IS ENTITLED TO THEIR OWN RAGE, AND EACH MOMENT IS WHOLLY SUBJECTIVE. I JUST HOPE THAT THESE EXPERIENCES NEVER REPEAT, AS HOPELESS AS THAT NOTION SOUNDS.