Are you obsessed with Ishgard's lore? Because I know that I'm obsessed with Ishgard's lore! I present to you a 116 page PDF that compiles all of the levequest descriptions from Coerthas Central Highlands (Observatorium and Whitebrim) and Ishgard (Temple Leves).
There's tons of fun little bits of useless silly trivia to downright harrowing worldbuilding about Ishgard's religion and military practices. So, enjoy!
I. Am. In. LOVE!!!!!!!!! Their shop. The 3 legendary birds?! Beautiful!!! Ghastly and Haunter are INCREDIBLE! Vulpix, Ninetails, ugh they’re all so so amazing. Your are is incredible Lanipuna!!!
Day 2 - Memories/Shadows 🥘
https://archiveofourown.org/works/47680207/chapters/120316960
As the dawn crept over the Rhotano Sea, Gylian stood on the Limsa Lominsa docks, fishing pole in hand. Patience was key in fishing, a lesson she'd learned the hard way. She cast her line wide, determined to reel in a fresh catch for the paella. Her first tug on the line brought a rush of excitement, only to be replaced by laughter when she pulled up a particularly grumpy-looking Sea Cucumber. Shaking her head, she released the creature back into the sea, promising it she wasn't about to make a cucumber-infused paella.
Her determination paid off as she soon reeled in fresh Rose Shrimp and Maneater Clams, their shells glinting in the early morning sun. With a victorious grin, she thanked the Rhotano for her bounty and ventured onwards.
The lush fields of La Noscea were her next stop. Kneeling among the golden grains of Bomba Rice, she began to harvest. As she picked a Heavens Lemon from a nearby tree, she accidentally squirted some juice in her eye. She yelped, doubling over with a groan.
Tears welling in her eyes, she saw a Sheep watching her with a look of mild worry, chomping away on its cud. Despite the seriousness of the moment, she couldn't help but find the absurdity of it all amusing
She tried to stifle her laughter, but it escaped through the watery veil of her tears. "Shush, you," she said, rubbing away the tears.
With her pride slightly bruised but her spirits high, she returned to Mor Dhona for the markets of Revenant's Toll. The lively hum of traders and shoppers filled the air. Gylian beelined for Aldred Tranter's stall, her appraising eye on the gleaming bottles of oils and bowls of powdered spices on display. The young Hyur, just a few summers her senior, smirked at her approach.
"Ah, a Scion graces my humble stall! What can I do for you, Lady Atwell?" Aldred greeted with a bow that was a touch too dramatic.
"I'm in need of Frantoio Oil and some Paprika, Aldred," she replied, suppressing a smile at his grandeur.
"Only the finest for Eorzea's savior," he proclaimed, reaching for the vials. He paused dramatically before revealing the price, obviously inflated for the sake of his theatrics. "That would be... three thousand gil."
Gylian raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Three thousand? Last week it was half of that. Has the oil been blessed by a primal in the meantime?"
A chuckle from the crowd made Aldred's smirk waver for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "I assure you, Lady Gylian, my goods are of the highest quality."
Just as Gylian was about to respond, an elderly voice rang out, "Enough with the show, boy! Just sell the goods at a fair price."
Brangwine had been idling at the side, eyeing the goods herself. Her stern gaze, however, was now fixed on Aldred. The haughty merchant deflated slightly under her no-nonsense stare.
Jutting a thumb towards the woman, Gylian returned a smirk, "I believe the lady has a point. Two thousand seems fair."
Aldred snapped his gaze back to Gylian, mouth agape as if he'd been struck by a thunder spell. He stammered for a moment, but with Gylian's calm, steadfast gaze on him, and the elder's severe stare, he was quick to buckle. "Two thousand? For a Scion and the formidable Brangwine? How could I possibly refuse?"
As he handed her the vials, he added hastily, "But you better keep this a secret, Gylian! I can't have the whole of Revenant's Toll expecting discounts."
Gylian couldn't help but laugh as she handed over the gil, giving Aldred a theatrical salute. "My lips are sealed, friend. Thank you for your generosity!" She even exaggerated the bow he had performed earlier for added jest. Aldred just sighed, rubbing his temple with a half-hearted grumble about 'meddlesome adventurers and nosy old ladies.'
~*~
Upon entering the kitchen of the Rising Stones, Gylian found F'lhaminn and Higiri preoccupied with prepping meals for the patrons of the Seventh Heaven tavern. She was a familiar presence in the kitchen, but the extra enthusiasm in her stride today did not go unnoticed.
F'lhaminn looked up from her chopping board, raising an eyebrow as she took in the assortment of fresh ingredients in Gylian's hands. "I see you've been busy, Gylian. Should we be preparing ourselves for another culinary experiment?"
Gylian chuckled, tying on her apron and pushing up her sleeves. "You're not far off. Though today, I'm aiming to satiate the peculiar craving of our resident rogue," she replied, a twinkle in her eyes.
At this, both F'lhaminn and Higiri paused, exchanging a glance that was a mix of amusement and intrigue. "Our incorrigible Thancred Waters has requested something special, has he?" F'lhaminn asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.
In response, Gylian gave a nonchalant shrug, her grin widening. "Indeed. Our friend apparently has a sudden hankering for paella."
Now both of the Scions looked genuinely surprised. "Paella? That's quite a specific request," Higiri noted, her interest piqued. Gylian was known for her innovative twists on traditional dishes, and a classic like paella seemed slightly out of her usual repertoire.
"Apparently he felt it prudent to offer me a challenge," Gylian said, her voice filled with determination. "And I've yet to shy away from a good culinary dare. 'Sides, I figured it could be a nice change of pace."
The other women shared a good-natured laugh, their heads shaking in amused disbelief at Gylian's enthusiasm. "Alright then, don't let us get in your way," F'lhaminn said, patting Gylian supportively on the shoulder before turning her attention back to her own tasks.
Meanwhile, Thancred returned from an excursion in Ul’dah. As he made his way toward Minfilia's solar within the Rising Stones, his nose twitched, catching a whiff of a scent that was both familiar and peculiar. He chalked it up to Higiri or F’lhammin preparing evening meals for the Scions or patrons of the tavern.
However, as he passed, a quick glance inside revealed Gylian's figure, her movements fluid and focused as she chopped ingredients with precision. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched her for a moment. It reminded him of their time in Bismarck, not too long ago, when she had masterfully whipped up Blood Currant tarts for him and Minfilia.
Taking his time before meeting with Minfilia, Thancred found himself casually leaning against the kitchen's entryway, observing through the slightly ajar door. His gaze was drawn, almost magnetically, to Gylian. She moved with a practiced grace and poise that was entirely captivating, her hands confidently maneuvering the ingredients with an artist's touch. There was something genuinely enchanting about seeing her so engrossed in her craft, so entirely in her element. A gentle warmth spread through his chest, his heart fluttering almost imperceptibly as he admired her unassuming brilliance in the culinary arts. He decided to tarry there a while longer, finding himself more intrigued by the cooking spectacle than he'd care to admit.
Suddenly, a firm hand planted itself on his shoulder, causing him to jump out of his trance.
"Seven hells, Y'shtola! Don't sneak up on me like that!" Thancred chided, heart racing from the sudden interruption.
"Oh, wouldn't want to have Gylian spot you watching her from the shadows, now, would we?" The Miqo’te retorted, her teasing smirk lit up by the glint of jest in her verdant eyes.
"Nonsense. I'm merely appreciating the art of cooking at its finest. It's... therapeutic if you must know," Thancred defended, swiftly regaining his composure. "It just so happens that Gylian is... part of the scenery."
Y'shtola cocked a brow at his reasoning, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I see. It's 'therapeutic,' then. But it is intriguing how your therapeutic gaze always seems to find the same 'part of the scenery.'"
Thancred rolled his eyes, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. "Merely a coincidence, Y'shtola. Besides, one can't deny Gylian's culinary talent. Even you must admit, her culinary artistry is rather captivating."
"True, she is quite adept in the culinary arts," Y'shtola agreed, her gaze briefly turning toward the busy kitchen. "But your interest in her seems to go beyond her cooking abilities, wouldn't you agree?"
Thancred felt his cheeks warm under Y'shtola's knowing gaze, but he quickly brushed it off with a chuckle. "Don't start with your theories, Y'shtola. Gylian and I are friends, and nothing more."
"Very well," Y'shtola relented, stepping away from him. "I was merely stating my observation. It's good to see you enjoying the simpler pleasures in life."
"Perhaps you're right," Thancred conceded, his gaze wandering back to the energetic figure of Gylian in the kitchen. "There is something rather... captivating about her fervor and dedication. It's, dare I say, inspiring."
"Much like how you approach your own responsibilities," Y'shtola observed, her voice carrying a tone of gentle insistence. "Perhaps it's more transparent than you care to admit, Thancred, but your fervor for your duties as a Scion is just as palpable. It resonates through each action you undertake."
Caught off guard, Thancred blinked at her, taking a moment to consider her words. It was rare for him to be at the receiving end of such comments, and he was momentarily speechless. However, a flicker of a smile soon graced his features, and he offered Y'shtola a small nod in acknowledgment.
"Perhaps you're right, Y'shtola. And perhaps... it's that shared passion that draws me to her, in more ways than one." He cast a final, thoughtful glance at the lively figure of Gylian in the kitchen before moving away from the entryway. "Now, I best be on my way. Minfilia awaits."
Y'shtola's lips twitched into a small, knowing smile as Thancred departed, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Indeed she does. Though, I imagine your thoughts will be elsewhere during your meeting."
As Thancred's figure disappeared down the hallway, Y'shtola's gaze returned to the bustling kitchen. The sight of Gylian at work was indeed a comforting and inspiring one, a testament to her dedication and love for her craft.
She found herself musing on Thancred's words. Though he had dismissed her observations with humor and deflection, Y'shtola had seen the spark in his eyes when he watched Gylian. It wasn't just admiration or camaraderie – it was something deeper, something he himself might not fully realize yet.
"Interesting..." she murmured, her thoughts a swirl of intrigue and curiosity. Turning her attention away from the kitchen, Y'shtola took a final glance in the direction Thancred had departed. "Perhaps it's not just the paella that'll surprise him tonight." With that, she strode off, leaving the aromatic scent of cooking and the sounds of the bustling kitchen behind her.
~*~
At last, F’lhaminn summoned the Scions for a meal. Though there was nothing in particular to be celebrated, none were willing to turn down a fresh meal. Before them was a spread of sukiyaki, compliments of Higiri’s Doman heritage that F’lhaminn assisted her with, as well as Gylian’s paella; enough to guarantee any of the Scions’ palates should they prefer one over the other.
“Compliments of our resident chefs, as well as myself,” F’lhaminn said warmly as the excited Scions took their seats. “Higiri has been more than eager to indulge you all with a change of taste as it were, with her Doman recipes.”
“And some added paella, with shrimp and clams caught straight out of the Rhotano!” Gylian beamed, her finger pointed proudly. To her, this was just another challenge she proudly fulfilled that Thancred bestowed upon her - little did she know however there was more to it than she realized.
As the Scions dug into the mouthwatering dishes, Thancred couldn't help but observe Gylian closely, noticing her wide with excitement and satisfaction as she watched everyone enjoy the food. It was infectious, that kind of joy and pride, and it was one of the things he loved most about her.
"This is exquisite, Gylian!" Alphinaud commented, his eyes widened in surprise at the burst of flavors. "You've outdone yourself."
"Indeed," Minfilia agreed, her smile warm. "The richness of the seafood paired with the fragrance of the spices... It's a culinary masterpiece."
Gylian couldn't help the blush that crept up her cheeks at the praise. "I'm glad you all enjoy it," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I was a bit nervous about the paella, but it seems I had nothing to worry about."
"Paella, you say?" Y'shtola asked, her curiosity piqued. "That's an unusual choice. What inspired it?"
Gylian hazard a glance at Thancred who happened to meet her eyes. Before she could answer, his somber look gave way to his characteristic, crooked smile. “I found a recipe, I gave her a challenge. I suppose you could say it was a whim.”
At the moment, he preferred not to delve into the true reason behind the creation of the dish, preferring to focus on Gylian’s success at recreating it. The details he’d reserve later for Gylian.
"All whims aside," Y'shtola said, her gaze flicking between Thancred and Gylian, a teasing smile curling at the edges of her lips, "it turned out to be a splendid idea."
"Indeed," Thancred agreed, his eyes never leaving Gylian's. "Splendid and absolutely delicious."
The dinner carried on with laughter and conversation filling the room, the Scions praising Gylian for the excellent meal she had prepared. Yet, underneath the light-hearted banter, Thancred found himself caught in the glow of Gylian's radiant joy, anticipating the opportunity to share with her the deeper reason behind the 'whim' that inspired the dish.
And as the evening concluded, and the Scions departed, their bellies full and their spirits high, Gylian slid into one of the empty seats next to Thancred before he could leave - although he had no intention to after the cutlery and dishes were removed from the table.
With a bottle of wine in hand, Gylian slid into one of the empty seats next to Thancred before he could leave - although he had no intention to after the cutlery and dishes were removed from the table.
“So,” she said, taking a swig of the bottle. “Something tells me there was more to this than just a challenge.”
Thancred chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. "You're as perceptive as always, Gylian," he conceded, his eyes meeting hers. "Yes, there is more to this."
He proffered the bottle from Gylian, giving it a deep swig as if mulling over his next thoughts. "You see, the paella... it reminds me of something from my childhood. Something precious."
Gylian watched him, chin in hand, as he began to explain his fateful meeting of Louisoix, and his attempt at snatching the man’s coin purse. His life changed forever after that, when he accepted the elder man’s offer of becoming his protege - contributing to the betterment of the future, he said. And then to commemorate the moment, not only was he given the surname ‘Waters’, but also a real, solid meal of his choosing.
“The paella…” Gylian said.
“Aye,” Thancred said, a reminiscent smile on his face. "It was the dish Louisoix chose for me and has been a favorite ever since. It reminds me of that turning point in my life; transformation, promise, and second chances. Of the person I've become."
"Your paella... was an exquisite concoction that still lingers in my memory. And it was perfect in its own way."
Gylian began to look back on a brief meeting with a chef during her culinary travels and something that stuck with her ever since, motivating her behind every dish. “…I suppose I have a special ingredient to thank for in that case," she said.
Thancred raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparked. "Oh? And what would that be?"
“Love,” she said simply, finding herself flushing at the words - but whether or not that was the wine, was up for debate.
Since their intimate tryst inside the store room of their new headquarters, neither broached the subject of any feelings beyond their mutual desire for one another. Gylian, ever thankfully perceptive had been quick to pick up on Thancred’s nature of being a charmer of women, living in the moment, focused on being a dedicated Scion and protector of Eorzea since the day they met.
As much as she already desired more from him, other than brief sexual encounters, seeing the look he was giving her from reliving one of the few, happy moments of his past felt like reward enough.
Thancred stared into Gylian's eyes, taking his time to note the sincerity in her expression and the faint blush that had tinged her cheeks. The air between them seemed to linger with what she said. "Love," he repeated softly, a small smile forming on his lips. "Now that's an ingredient that cannot be found in any market."
"True, 'tis not," Gylian admitted with a chuckle into her wine. "…And certainly doesn’t cost three thousand gil.”
you ever know someone and you think “god i love you. i wish we could’ve known eachother when we were carefree and 11. i wish we could’ve played together as kids”
"The way you furnished your apartment so quickly," Thancred noted with a light, breathless laugh as he reclined on the bed and welcomed Gylian close to him after an unexpected tryst. "I'd dare say you were expecting me here all along."
"I'll leave that up to you to figure out," Gylian said with an equally breathless laugh into his arm, absent-mindedly tracing her fingertips across the ripples of his abdomen.
When the Doman refugees arrived, Gylian decided to surrender her living quarters for one of them to occupy. She was out in the field or at the Drowning Wench's inn more often than not, so it seemed only natural. She hadn't considered the prospect of getting an apartment in Mist - which also felt just as right.
With her meager savings, she was able to procure a humble apartment, with a decent view of the bay from Red Rooster Stead. Her means of furnishing it as swiftly as she did however, in truth, was her desire to finally have a stable place to call her home, without the on-goings of Scion presence and perhaps somewhere to keep more than just weapons and equipment. As much as she desired to keep tomes for herself, her lifestyle up until that point didn't allow her such a privilege. And now, she had it.
And yet, somehow it turned into a private refuge for her and Thancred to escape to - without actually intending it to.
So, it came as no surprise to her when he jested about giving his personal input on the aesthetics of her new abode, turning it into a subtle invitation of sorts. An unexpected one, but something she couldn't ignore.
Their relationship - if you wanted to call it that - was complex, to say the least. Their first sexual encounter was meant to be a one-time thing. However, tried as she might to seek romantic prospects elsewhere, the man still drew her like a moth to the flame... without even trying.
And thus began the unspoken, precarious balance between friendship and desire. She wanted more - gods, she did - but she accepted his reasons, whatever they were, to not venture beyond a heated mess of two impassioned, tangled bodies.
That evening happened to be one of those moments of said heated mess.
As Thancred's hearty yawn echoed through the room, breaking her from her thoughts, he slowly sat up at the edge of the bed, the sheets slipping from his body revealing a tapestry of scars scattered across his physique. Her gaze was drawn to a peculiar scar on his lower back, just above his waistline. Small and slightly irregular in shape, its puckered edges hinted at a wound that had been deeply inflicted and imperfectly healed.
"Fancy a drink? You've left me quite parched," he quipped, poised to rise from the bed. However, at her sudden touch, his breath hitched. He turned to look at her, his eyes questioning.
"Hold on a moment, Thancred," she murmured softly, as he allowed her to lightly trace the edge of a particular scar. "This one. It's... different."
He chuckled lightly, a slight hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Ah, that one," he started, looking at the scar. "A relic from my childhood."
Gylian’s curiosity was piqued by his words. "Care to elaborate?" she asked, her eyes shifting from the scar to his face.
"Elaborate, huh?" Thancred asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he met her gaze. He settled back down, gently capturing her hand against his chest.
He was quiet for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "If you recall, I was an orphan in Limsa Lominsa," he began, his voice soft but clear in the quiet room. "And when you're a child on those decks, you learn quickly that food is a luxury."
One day, he explained, the sharp pang of hunger in his belly had driven him to theft - a single, flaky tart that had been carelessly left unattended by a market stall. But his triumph had been short-lived when a larger, stronger lad had spotted his prize and decided he wanted it for himself.
The scuffle had been brief and brutal. Thancred was strong and quick for his age, but he was no match for the brute force of the other boy. He had been tossed aside like a rag doll, crashing into a pile of refuse and debris.
And right onto a jagged piece of rusted metal.
"The fight didn't end well for me," he swallowed, recalling the shadow of pain.
Gylian’s breath hitched at his words, her fingers instinctively tightening around his. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, his voice steady as he continued.
"Even a small fishing hook was a treasure in those days," Thancred mused, his thumb brushing over the ancient scar. "I remember managing to steal one, along with some thin wire. It was from an old fisherman who'd left his tools unattended. Desperate times called for desperate measures, as they say."
He paused for a moment, lost in the distant memory, before he continued. "I snuck into a quiet corner, behind a stack of discarded crates, where no one could see me. The pain... I won't forget it. I had to bite down on a piece of driftwood just to keep from crying out. But the alternative... leaving the wound open... it was not an option."
His voice took on a solemn, reflective tone. "The worst part wasn't the pain, though. It was the fear. The fear that I wouldn't do it right, that it would get infected. That I would die alone in some forgotten corner, just another street urchin lost to the city."
His grip on her hand tightened slightly as he finished, his eyes meeting hers again. "I cleaned it as best I could with a small flame. Then, with shaky hands and teeth clenched against the pain of the seventh hell, I threaded the wire through the hook and started to sew."
"The crude stitches were jagged and uneven," he said, his voice softening. "I still remember the sensation of the metal dragging through my skin. But it worked. The wound closed, and although it healed badly, at least it healed."
He chuckled then, a bitter, hollow sound. "I suppose it's ironic that my first lesson in survival wasn't from the streets or the seas of Limsa, but from a fight over a bloody tart."
Gylian squeezed his hand gently, her heart aching for the pain he'd endured. She knew of his rough childhood in Limsa Lominsa, of course, but hearing the actual details brought a whole new level of understanding.
"I'm sorry, Thancred," she murmured, pressing her lips to the scar. "No child should have to go through that."
His gaze softened, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sad smile. "It's in the past, G," he said, his thumb gently brushing against her cheek. "But thank you. It means a lot."
As they laid there, basking in the comforting silence, Gylian found herself admiring him even more. His scars were not just reminders of his past struggles, they were also testaments of his strength and resilience.
"And you say you're not amazing," she whispered, her eyes meeting his. "You truly are, Thancred. In more ways than you could ever know."
Thancred's lips curled into a warm, appreciative smile, his gaze softening as he took in her sincerity. "From anyone else, I might dismiss that as empty flattery," he admitted. "But from you, Gylian... I can't help but feel a little moved."
He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, his touch lingering. "Though I must confess, I'm not used to being the recipient of such heartfelt compliments. You might be spoiling me."
Gylian chuckled, a soft and endearing sound that stirred warmth within him. "I think you can afford to be spoiled a little. The Twelve know you've earned it."
"Well," he said, his voice taking on a teasing lilt, "if you insist on indulging me, who am I to refuse?"
She rolled her eyes at his antics, but there was a fond smile on her lips. "There's that incorrigible rogue I know and tolerate," she quipped, giving him a playful nudge.
"Only tolerate?" Thancred echoed, feigning offense. He moved closer, their bodies flush against each other, and began to trace small circles along her arm with his fingertips. "I was hoping to at least rank as 'mildly endearing'."
Gylian laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Oh, you're endearing alright," she teased back, tracing a finger along the curve of his jaw. "Mildly annoying, too."
"But you must know," she continued, her voice softening, "you're also incredibly brave. And you should never forget that."
"Brave, eh?" Thancred asked, a playful spark in his eyes. "Or perhaps I’m just too stubborn?"
"Perhaps a little bit of both," Gylian conceded, a warm smile playing on her lips. "But I wouldn't have you any other way."
She ran her fingers through his hair, eliciting a satisfied hum from him. Her gaze fell back to the scar that had started their conversation. It was a reminder of his strength, of his resilience, of the boy he once was who had to grow up too fast.
"I must say," she started, her voice a soft whisper, "these scars of yours... they add to your charm."
Thancred laughed at that, a rich sound that filled the room. "So, my dear Gylian," he said, his voice dripping with mischief, "you're saying you find my scars... alluring?"
"I'm saying," Gylian shot back, meeting his playful gaze with a teasing smile of her own, "they tell a story. Your story. And that is something I find very captivating."
Thancred paused, taken aback by her words. Then, he smiled – a genuine smile, warm and unguarded. "Well, then... perhaps I should consider getting a few more."
"Only if they're won in worthy battles," Gylian replied, raising a brow in mock admonition, "and not over stolen tarts."
Welcome to Wolcred Week, a special little time to celebrate and spread love for our WOL/OC ships with Thancred Waters! The event will take place June 4th-10th 2023, and welcomes any type of creative works, including gpose, art, fanfics, etc!!
