Wandering Minstrel Arrested

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 Connecting all lands and peoples in her everlasting embrace, the sea bears to Limsa Lominsa the wisdom and voices of a thousand shores. In today’s edition, The Harbor Herald investigates the sudden arrest of Red Rooster Stead’s mysterious visitor.

Whereabouts of the Wandering Minstrel

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The sudden appearance of this enigmatic individual at Red Rooster Stead caused quite a stir among the adventuring community. Bedecked in silver adornments and bearing a magnificent harp, his propensity for reciting verses of a peculiar poem to all who would listen led him to be called the wandering minstrel. The minstrel has, however, apparently departed as abruptly as he arrived. Are the comings and goings of an itinerant bard a topic worthy of an entire article in The Harbor Herald? Ordinarily, nay. If, perchance, one learned that the Yellow Jackets are responsible for the disappearance, then the story begins to merit closer attention!






Heavy-handed Justice or Commendable Deed?

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A botanist present at the scene of the arrest furnished us with an eyewitness account. The wandering minstrel was, as always, penning letters and speaking in impassioned tones to visiting adventurers. Without warning, however, a squad of glowering Yellow Jackets shouldered through the crowd and apprehended the surprised bard on charges of “inciting unrest.”


According to the testimony of bystanders, the minstrel was, through the medium of his art, entreating his listeners to prepare themselves for the coming of the Seventh Umbral Era. With nerves strung tight over the Garlean invasion and talk of impending doom, was his arrest an overreaction on the part of the Yellow Jackets? Or was the nomad performer a sinister figure in truth?

The facts remain clouded, but it appears that the guards posted in the vicinity of Red Rooster Stead are on the lookout for potential accomplices and sympathizers to the minstrel’s cause. It may behoove the wise to avoid touching on the subject of the Umbral Era in their presence for the time being. That is, of course, unless one welcomes the prospect of joining the minstrel in his prison beneath the Coral Tower...

Yumah Molkot

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