T w e n t y S i d e d

After fleeing Marquis Ondore’s swank crib, the game wastes no time in dropping you right off at the start of the next area. Balthier, for the third time at least, caresses his ego by showing off features of his ship, this time a cloaking device he borrowed from a StarCraft Wraith. It’s sadly not inaccurate to say that the first and only cool thing Balthier ever stole was his ship and he has just been riding that good feeling ever since as a “sky pirate.” Vaan and Penelo’s bickering prompt Balthier to baldly lampshade the couple’s status as the comic relief, because sometimes the game is as unkind to me as I am to it.

The task now is to cross the Sandsea. They aren’t just being poetic with the name, either; the sand here is special, and flows like water in a vast, sprawling mass stretching beyond the horizon. Basch describes it as larger still than all of Dalmasca and booooy he ain’t even kidding. This is the first time the game drops you off at the beginning of an immense stretch of wasteland or ruins and says, “have at it, we’ll start up the plot again on the other side.” From here on out, this is more or less how the game functions, and I’ll be perfectly honest: I think the game gains something from this. There’s just something about peering out over the trackless wastes, with nothing on the other side but some magic-charged ruin lost to the mists of history, and fighting my way to the very bottom of it in search of some relic or other that just whips me into the adventuring mindset.

Continue reading ⟩⟩ “A Travelog of Ivalice, Part 6: Sandseas, Sigil Stones, and Staircases of Dicks”

The Rocketeer —PLEASE—STAND—BY—

We open to the party being brought aboard Ghis’ flagship, the Dreadnought Leviathan. Hilariously, the little transport craft has these two protrusions on the front that look like someone welded two swords to the bumper. I can’t help but imagine this little bumper-car ship ramming dreadnoughts with its teensy little fender blades.

As the party is brought onto the bridge, who should be waiting for them but Amalia! Basch greets her as Majesty, and in response she slaps the taste out of his mouth, because nothing good can ever happen to Basch. Ghis confirms that she is indeed Ashelia B’nargin Dalmasca (*snicker* “B’nargin”), and everyone is shocked but Basch.

Ghis does note that, without any proof of her lineage, she’ll simply be hanged with the rest of the insurgents. Basch pipes up saying that he had a contingency for just such an occasion and that he and he alone knows the location of such proof, an artifact called the Dusk Shard. Which is to say, the Goddess Magicite Vaan has in his pocket. No really, it starts glowing right on cue and he pulls it on out. Does the Empire not frisk prisoners?! This is the second time! Judge Ghis finally gets the hint and yoinks it out of his hands, exclaiming, “Well shit, that cleared up quicker than I thought it would.”

Vaan demonstrates his trademark lack of self-awareness by demanding “no executions” before he hands over the stone. Ghis mutters to himself about Vayne wanting the stone for some purpose, and they are led away to the brig.

Continue reading ⟩⟩ “A Travelog of Ivalice, Part 5: Imperial Mercy and Other Lies”

The Rocketeer —PLEASE—STAND—BY—