Note: While this is indeed a Final Fantasy Tactics fanfic, most of the characters are entirely original. However, Alazlam, Ramza, Orlandu, chocobos, and several other people, places, and things are property of Square and I take no credit for them. You know the drill.
To: Hama Croine, Moderator of Ancient History Committee, Ivalice Center of Historical Studies
From: Alazlam, chief scholar of ancient history, Igros University
Dr. Croine, you may remember me from my controversial report on the subject of Ramza Beoulve and the Lion War, which was sent to you around two years ago (once again I apologize for the numerous typographical errors found in that report).
As promised, I have finally finished translating the ancient scripts and compiling them into a full report. To say that the findings are incredibly revealing and informative would be an understatement.
Have you ever heard of a man named Jardin Greyhelm? If not, I'd question your prominent position in the Ivalice Center of Historical Studies. According to legend, he saved the world from an attack of demons, and, while the myth has exaggerated the truth, you will be interested to know that Greyhelm was an actual figure in history. He lived around one hundred years before the Fifty Year War, the period we historians refer to as the Dark Age as we have precious little knowledge of that time. I have discovered his military record, part of which I have copied here:
Jardin Greyhelm
Social Class: Noble
Military Class: Apprentice Swordsman
- Basic Skills- Mastered
- Stasis Sword- Mastered
- Dark Sword- Mastered
- Shellbust Stab- Mastered
Military Rank: Captain
Questionable Behavior: None
Comments: Respectful, valiant, and obedient
As you can see, he was your average poster-boy soldier beginning a promising military career.
Now I will let you read my exact discoveries. I have compiled all the information into a tale that will be a welcome addition to the history books. Our story begins during the first year of the legendary Gaian War, at Mandalia Plains.
FFT: THE DARK HARVEST
CHAPTER 1: HOMECOMING
A pathetic groan escaped from the shrouded mouth of the Black Mage before his soul fled to the afterlife. Jardin pulled his iron sword out of the body just in time to parry the blow of an enemy knight wielding a broadsword. Keeping his eye on the weapon, Jardin danced to and fro like a drunkard with a new bottle of Mako Whiskey, waiting for the knight to make an attack. The sword moved! Greyhelm laughed as he dodged the clumsy blow and counter attacked, cutting through cloth, iron, and flesh. The knight fell silently, a pool of blood slowly gathering under him. He glanced about his surroundings for more enemies, but there were none to be found.
Captain Jardin Greyhelm pulled his drenched cloak about his shoulders as he surveyed the battlefield. A heavy rain pelted the ground, washing the blood and gore down the hill in small rivulets. Towards the east, one of his Black Mages hit a knight with Fire, totally incinerating him. His best monk scored a thief's jaw with a devastating uppercut, and a lancer crashed down on a White Mage with a mighty leap. The battle was clearly won.
A good thing too. This band of enemies had come down from Tabreum, the country to the north that was at war with Ivalice, with the intention of attacking the Magic City Gariland. Jardin and his squad had intercepted them here to prevent them from reaching their destination. Gariland trained the best magic-oriented soldiers in the country, and its downfall would have been a terrible blow for Ivalice.
Jardin allowed himself a smile, pushing his light brown hair out of his face. At twenty-three, he was well built but a little short compared to most men his age (a fact that puzzled him as he looked at his tall, strong family). Despite his stature and a brown scar that stretched across his forehead, his well-defined cheekbones and cheerful personality usually made him pretty popular with the ladies. After stretching his arms and yawning, he began preparations for the march back to camp. His work was interrupted, however, with a cry from one of his men, who was running toward him at a deliberate speed.
It was Romalion "Romo" Descarei, the highest-ranking soldier in Jardin's attack squadron, and his best friend as well. Romo was a knight experienced in archery, and his sniping abilities with a crossbow were legendary. As always, Romo had his shoulder length sandy blonde hair tied into a tight ponytail, which, now wet, clung to the light ring mail (Romo's favorite armor) on his back. He was holding his tempered steel helm under his arm and letting the rain wash the battle filth from him. A short sword clattered about his legs as he ran.
"Ahh, hello Romo!" grinned Jardin. "I'm glad to see you're alright!"
"So am I," laughed his friend. " But I feared an attack little, as I shot down any soldiers that tried to climb the hill I stood on. But enough of me! That was some impressive swordplay, my friend. Stasis Sword- wow! It almost makes me wish that I was training to be a Holy Swordsman as well."
"You'd probably change your mind when you realize how long it takes to reach Holy Swordsman. I'm afraid I won't experience the honor until I'm forty or fifty."
"Heh, you're probably right, considering my patience."
"It would be infinitely harder for you, anyway, as you are not a noble."
"Oh well, my abilities suit me just fine," Romo said with a chuckle.
"Well, why don't you help me rally the troops so we can get back to camp."
A week later at the military encampment, Jardin idled lazily in a hammock. Sighing, he reached for the meager pile of mail that awaited him. He leafed through the various envelopes and scrolls, looking for items of interest. There wasn't much there except a few letters from friends back home at Igros, a letter from the military, and his salary (which managed to extract a quiet whoop from the young captain). As he reached for the military letter, he found himself dreading what it could contain. What if it had orders to move out again, so soon after the battle at Mandalia plains?
Jardin broke the wax seal carefully, unrolled the scroll, and read the message, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
"Captain Greyhelm," it read, "we would like to congratulate you and your men on your recent victory at Mandalia, not to mention the previous accomplishments at Sweegy wood, Luron highway, and your impressive rescue mission at Fort Garilesh. We would like to reward you for this impressive track record. You and your men will be allowed two weeks leave to visit your families and friends. In addition, you will receive a bonus in your salaries next month.
"Once again, congratulations on your accomplishments. We will be watching your military career with interest. General Heagan Withrope"
Jardin nearly fell out of his hammock as he rushed out of his tent. Racing past the rows of drab brown tents, he ran to the camp center. A small bonfire always burned there, and several bodies huddled around it in a tight circle, seeking the heat. Jardin grabbed one of these figures by the collar and yanked him out of the ring. Romo blinked in surprise as Jardin shoved the letter in his face.
"Look, Romo! We get two weeks off! Two beautiful weeks free from violence, bloodshed, and battle! Two glorious weeks in a real bed, free from this military crap they call food! Two wonderful weeks of-"
"Okay, Jardin! I get the picture! But this IS wonderful news! I can't wait to see my family!"
The two friends walked off together, talking excitedly about friends and making plans for the next two weeks.
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