- Judging by P'yandih's relaxed demeanor, you are beginning to think guild management is easier than Martyn led you to believe.
- In the quest for your nemesis, Martyn has set his sights on the Holy See of Ishgard, and invites you to meet him there at the Holy Stables. Why he would choose such a peculiar location, only the Fury knows.
- You find Martyn at the Holy Stables, tending to its “bestest boy.” He explains that with the Dragonsong War ended, Ishgard's soldiers have been holding tournaments at the Lightfeather Proving Grounds to keep their lances sharp and skills honed. Regular spectators at the Last Vigil have doubtless seen enough tournament bouts to suggest a fighter worthy to be your nemesis. He bids you go ahead and wait for him there while he finishes his duties at the stable.
- You speak with several patrons at the Last Vigil, all of whom name the same tournament champion─Ser Alaimbert of the Spiked Butt. Perhaps Martyn has heard tell of other promising prospects.
- All roads lead back to Ser Alaimbert, but the question remains of whether he is indeed stronger than Martyn. As they are still taking entrants for the next upcoming tournament, your blue mage companion intends to find out.
- The tournament attendant regrettably informs you the tournament is restricted to lancers and dragoons. Fortunately, Ser Alaimbert happens to overhear the conversation and, being enthused by the prospect of fighting a mage, insists Martyn be allowed to participate in an exhibition match. With the matter settled, Martyn makes to prepare himself for battle.
- Martyn is beginning to believe Ser Alaimbert may be the one to best him, and prove himself worthy of being your nemesis. The revelation vexes him, because it would mean conceding defeat in full view of you, his dear protégé. The matter is compounded when the tournament attendant tells you both that the school of blue magic is strictly forbidden. But Martyn has come too far to back down, and so he steels himself as he enters the arena.
- As one might expect, Ser Alaimbert is relentless, and without use of blue magic, Martyn quickly finds himself on the back foot. The situation seems dire as Ser Alaimbert readies to deal a finishing blow, but in a last-ditch effort to protect his pride, Martyn unleashes a series of devastating spells to seal a narrow victory.
- The dust settles, and you are surprised to find that Royse was in attendance for Martyn's spectacular display of magic. It was a bittersweet victory, however, because it proved that Ser Alaimbert was sadly unfit to be your nemesis. Or so it would seem. Now realizing Martyn is capable of wielding more than blue magic, she insists that he become the rival you have been searching for. He is understandably confused, but before he can form a convincing argument to refuse, she ushers you all back to Ul'dah to begin preparations.
- There is naught to do but wait until the Celestium is ready to host its newest attraction. To that end, Martyn bids you rest and prepare for what is to come.
Well now, what have we here? You've the look of a man ready for battle. Which, I assume, means you've mastered Rehydration. Excellent.
And your timing could not be more fortuitous. Martyn has sent word that he's found promising prospects in Ishgard, and asks that you meet him there at once.
He went on to say you're likely to find him spending time at the Holy Stables. As for why Martyn would choose to make roost there, well... Some questions, I feel, are better left unanswered. But never mind that─you had best be on your way.
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Something tells me I'd rather not know why he's biding his time at the stables, but that is neither here nor there. It wouldn't do to keep him waiting.
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Cutscene start.
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Who's the bestest boy in the stable? You are! Yes you are!
Oh, Forename! I-I didn't think you would be here so soon...
Ahem. As you might've guessed, my coffers have all but run dry, so I've taken up work here at the Holy Stables.
Would that there wasn't so much to do here. I've scarcely found time to take up the search for your nemesis. That's not to say I'm without any leads, mind you.
With the Dragonsong War ended, I've been told there are scant few opportunities to practice or develop the art of the lance in actual battle.
So, to keep their soldiers' skills honed and spears sharp, tournaments are bein' held at the Lightfeather Proving Grounds.
Surely, a fighter worthy to be your nemesis could be forged in the flames of such combat.
If we were to inquire at the Last Vigil, I'm sure some few there have spectated these matches at the very least.
You go on ahead. I'll be with you after I, uh...finish my duties here in the stalls.
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Cutscene end.
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Folks have been snickerin' ever since I stepped foot here, but I don't see what's so funny. My hat's not crooked, is it?
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The fiercest of the tourney fighters?
You need look no further than Ser Alaimbert of the Spiked Butt. I daresay no challenger can endure the powerful thrusts of his lance.
You would be hard-pressed to find a lance finer than that of Ser Alaimbert.
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If it is a test of mettle you desire, then I urge you to seek out Ser Alaimbert.
He is a knight without peer, and the very definition of a gentleman. Indeed, he graciously accepts any and all challengers.
He is a knight whose strength at arms is matched only by his valor. If it is a challenge you seek, you could do worse than Ser Alaimbert.
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The tourney champion? Surely, you know of Ser Alaimbert of the Spiked Butt?
One of Ishgard's finest dragoons, perhaps best known for his tireless efforts on our western border. He took to the tourneys, wishing to keep his skills sharp, and he has yet to be bested.
Do you believe yourself capable of besting Ser Alaimbert? That would certainly be a sight to see.
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So, any promising prospects?
No different than me, I see. No sooner did mention of the tourney slip my lips than they began singin' praises of this Ser Alaimbert.
Clearly, he's the strongest fighter they have to offer, but there's still the question of whether he's stronger than me. Only one way to find out.
As luck would have it, they're still acceptin' entries for the next tourney over in front of the provin' grounds. Let's go and have a look.
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Excuse me, sir, how might I go about entering the next tourney?
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Cutscene start.
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My apologies, but I cannot permit you to enter the tournament. I've no doubt a mage such as yourself would make a suitable challenger, but entry is reserved for lancers and dragoons only.
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What? You can't be serious!
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I'm terribly sorry, but I do not make the rules. I merely enforce them.
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S-Ser Alaimbert! Er, this gentleman was seeking to join the upcoming tournament, but he lacks the proper qualifications...
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Ah, so you are the famed Ser Alaimbert. In my search for worthy opponents, I was told yours is the finest lance in all the Holy See. I would take your measure, and see the truth of these claims for myself.
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You've spirit, I'll give you that. All right... I accept your challenge.
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To be perfectly honest, I've grown weary of the same opponents day in and day out. This could prove to be a refreshing─and sorely needed─change of pace.
Have him placed before the first match of the tournament, and lest anyone protest, simply call it an exhibition match. Something to whet the spectators' appetites.
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Y-Yes, of course. Right away, sir.
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And what have we here?
That I should have the privilege of standing face to face with the Warrior of Light. If you are interested, I should very much like to try my hand against you as well.
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What will you say?
1) Perhaps another time.
2) We fought before in western Coerthas, or don't you remember?
Very well. If you should ever find yourself in western Coerthas with time to spare, I am always looking for a good sparring partner.
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Ah, so we did! Forgive me. I often find myself inundated with challengers, and have a bad habit of forgetting faces in the thick of battle.
If I'm not mistaken, our contest was interrupted. All the more reason we should fight again soon. Until then.
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Well, then. It would seem preparations for your exhibition match are in order. A summons will be issued when all is in readiness.
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I've a sneakin' suspicion my predicament may have gone overlooked if not for your company. One of the advantages of havin' a world-renowned protégé, I suppose.
Now, I had best go and get ready!
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Cutscene end.
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Cutscene start.
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I'm startin' to believe Ser Alaimbert may be every bit the fighter people claim him to be. In which case...I may actually lose.
I realize the whole purpose of this venture was to find someone worthy to be your nemesis. Someone who rivals even my own strength. And yet...
The thought of losin' here, in front of you, disgusts me.
Whenever I found myself outmatched, time and again, you were always there to put down the beasts that I couldn't.
And though it fills me with joy to see you grow as a blue mage, I'm not without my pride─without limits to the shame I can bear.
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What will you say?
1) You'll be fine. I believe in you.
2) If you feel you can't afford to lose here, then don't.
I've gotten myself into a right fine mess this time, haven't I? But then, how else are we to find your nemesis?
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Your match is to begin shortly. Please make your final preparations and proceed to the gate.
But first, might I have your name? Or rather, the name you wish for me to announce to the crowd. An alias will suffice if you prefer.
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The Great Azuro will do.
Somethin' the matter?
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No. Not at all. And what manner of weapon will the Great Azuro do battle with?
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I'm not sure my stick would count as a weapon, but I mainly fight with magic─blue magic to be precise!
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Blue magic!? Sir, that arcane discipline is strictly forbidden here.
The last challenger who professed mastery of such arts paraded about the arena vomiting fire, fish, and all manner of unspeakable things. To say our patrons were displeased with their spectacle would be an understatement.
And it is for that reason these tournaments were limited to lancers and dragoons.
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But the exhibition match was already agreed upon.
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It was indeed, and I do not wish to disappoint Ser Alaimbert. Yet I must also consider those come to witness your contest.
That is why I will introduce you as a mage hailing from Ul'dah. A traditional mage, who would not dare wield anything so crude as blue magic. If you do, consider the match forfeit.
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Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight we've prepared a bevy of battles that are certain to shock and amaze. But first, a special surprise─an exhibition match featuring your champion, Ser Alaimbert of the Spiked Butt!
And his opponent. A master of magic, hailing from the shifting sands of Ul'dah: the Great Azuro.
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Do they really intend to do battle in that ridiculous costume?
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Oh, how I've been waiting for this!
Why do you not fight? Have you no magick to show me?
Hmph. A foe barely even worthy of my spear, let alone my butt.
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I swore blue magic is the only magic I would ever use. But if I'm to win this...
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Let us put an end to this!
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The...the winner is...the Great Azuro!
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Cutscene end.
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Cutscene start.
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Well, that was closer than I would've liked. I can scarcely remember the last time I fought without blue magic.
At the very least, it's reassurin' to know I've not grown soft with my other magicks.
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That was quite the display. In all my days, never have I faced a mage so formidable.
It would seem my training has been sorely lacking. Indeed, if my butt is to be worthy of its name, I must train a great deal harder.
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Well, I guess we're back where we started... At this rate, I don't think we'll ever find you a suitable adversary.
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Royse!? What are you doin' here?
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To be perfectly frank, I was beginning to question if you really were searching for his nemesis, and so I came to see for myself how you've been faring.
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I see... And what exactly did you mean, you're not so sure? Anyone with eyes could see I was clearly the victor in that match.
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Which is precisely why you shall serve as Forename's rival.
If I had known you had mastery of other schools of magic, and with such devastating proficiency, I may well have suggested as much sooner.
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Now hold on a minute! You're not really suggestin' I stop using blue magic, are you?
Everythin' I've learned has been in service to betterin' my blue magic spells. I'd never be a match for him without them!
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Oh, I'm certain you will make the best of it. You always do.
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Now, let us return to Ul'dah. There is still much work to be done!
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Cutscene end.
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I heard the good news! Our patrons at the Celestium are in for a treat.
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Who would have guessed the one we'd been looking for was here beneath our noses all along.
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It's good to be back in Ul'dah, but this is not at all how I expected to make my return.
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There is still much to be done before your debut at the Celestium. All in good time, my dear. All in good time.
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Oh, I can hardly wait. The clash of Forename's azure might with Martyn's magic!
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I suspect Royse has planned far more than I'd bargain for, but I'm not exactly in a position to shirk my collar here, am I?
At any rate, if I'm to do battle with you─and without my blue magic spells─you've little need to add anythin' else to your repertoire. Practice your fundamentals, and I'm sure you'll be fine.
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You're only saying that because you're afraid you won't stand a chance if he learns any more spells.
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D-Don't be ridiculous. I'm merely givin' my opinion, is all. He's free to learn whatever spells he likes!
As for me, I think I'm long overdue for a rest.
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