Grimoires of a rift
Hi there, uh… squires, or whoever will be reading this. Luso here, Bathsua’s out with a stomach flu and she asked me to fill in her memoirs for her, at least until she’s feeling well enough to start fighting again. I… uh… have no idea what I should be writing down in this tome. I’m more used to writing in my own journal, and it works quite differently from this thing. To begin with, it’s not just any journal. It’s a grimoire.
I still don’t really know how it works. I write things down, but most of it writes itself as we go. They say grimoires are magical books, and this one certainly is, though I can’t say much more about it without alarming the rest of the gang. Or enticing Balthier to steal it from me. He has been asking me about this journal of mine, and we know he’s always off stealing relics and items of value.
But I digress. Bathsua asked me to write down some things, because I am always jotting down our adventures. I guess I’ll write something about what I know best – or have known best since I arrived here.
Poaching
I have not always been fond of poaching – or ghosts, but that is another matter – but I’ve learned to appreciate the art of poaching since coming to these shores. It took me a while to figure out how poaching works here, but once I got the hang of it, soon after I was invited to a poacher’s den. These dens aren’t just anywhere either, they’re quite exclusive. I know there”s one in Dorter ( the one where I got invited to) and Warjilis, and have vaguely heard of others, but we haven’t come across it yet.
But how does it work? Well, until you learn how to poach, you’re not allowed in. The merchant will just chase you off again. And when you have learned to poach, the merchant will still have nothing to sell to you until you have actually poached a monster. It is a cheap way to acquire potions and gear when you’re low on gil.
What happens behind the scenes is anyone’s guess, but somehow the employees of the den are able to turn a poached red chocobo into a beautiful little Barrette, and draw some sort of fluids from the behemoth kings to make a perfume called Cherche. I’m not tempted to venture a guess as to how they all do this. I don’t think I’d even want to know. But I have written down a concise list of interesting things we can acquire from the poacher’s den from poaching monsters on our travels.
If Bathsua is still under the weather by the time another entry needs to be made, I will gladly take over again and share some general guidelines on poaching, and why Balthier and Mustadio have spend so long hunting an elusive pig some time ago.
I am Luso, poacher extraordinaire, and these are… um… my memoirs, I guess? Until next time!
Memoirs of a squire 