Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
at adventu, we believe that colorful story and plots far outweigh the need for a battle system. rp should be about the writing, the fun, and the creativity. you will see that the only system on our site is the encouragement to create amazing adventures with other members. welcome to adventu... how will you arrive?
year 5, quarter 3
Welcome one and all to our beautiful new skin! This marks the visual era of Adventu 4.0, our 4th and by far best design we've had. 3.0 suited our needs for a very long time, but as things are evolving around the site (and all for the better thanks to all of you), it was time for a new, sleek change. The Resource Site celebrity Pharaoh Leep was the amazing mastermind behind this with minor collaborations from your resident moogle. It's one-of-a-kind and suited specifically for Adventu. Click the image for a super easy new skin guide for a visual tour!
Final Fantasy Adventu is a roleplaying forum inspired by the Final Fantasy series. Images on the site are edited by KUPO of FF:A with all source material belonging to their respective artists (i.e. Square Enix, Pixiv Fantasia, etc). The board lyrics are from the Final Fantasy song "Otherworld" composed by Nobuo Uematsu and arranged by The Black Mages II.
The current skin was made by Pharaoh Leap of Pixel Perfect. Outside of that, individual posts and characters belong to their creators, and we claim no ownership to what which is not ours. Thank you for stopping by.
[attr=class,bulk] Despite Dion’s careful wording, it was clear that the healer took offense to his implications. Even through the haze of his pain, he could see the insecurity in her eyes and the way that she pushed her hair behind her ear, perhaps subconsciously touching where she might have otherwise been branded. No matter his condition or the earnestness of his admission, he could not help an instant regret in how he must have harmed the woman who had saved his life and whose magic even now worked within him, dulling the pain that should have left him only in death.
Though once again, her words surprised him.
”A…summoner?” His brow furrowed as he tried to piece together her meaning. She stated that she had a duty to her people that overcame all other barriers, but that did not align with Dion’s admissions of confusion, and that single word struck him as of great importance. It was the kind of word that one used self-evidently as though no others were required. A summoner. But that implied a summons of some kind, and what was it that she meant to summon? It was a bizarre phrase, one that he had never in his life heard used, and all the time his confusion mounted as each and every one of his assumptions of social reality crumbled away.
His final questions, for some reason, seemed to cause her alarm. Realization struck her in an instant though what it was she had realized, he could not say. She claimed that he was “new here.” New? He felt his head spinning with the effects of pain and disorientation alike. Before he could ask her to clarify, she pulled a chair from the desk with her potions and returned, sitting with the look of a tutor ready for a lesson of utmost importance.
Dion watched her, his head tilted to the side without raising it. Now that she had ceased her spells, their numbing effects waned, and he found it difficult to concentrate through the persistent ache that spread across his body. He tried nonetheless as she spoke.
Her story was…creative if nothing else. Dion frowned, his brow furrowing further.
”This is not…Valisthea?” he asked slowly. She mentioned a land called Spira, her native continent, it seemed, which was not that which they now occupied. Dion had learned of the outer continents, of course. He knew of its people, and he knew of the many refugees from those lands which were driven to the Twins by the Blight. The names of these places had been left vague at best which had frustrated him when his duties involved socio-political interests, but he knew of them nonetheless.
He knew of King Barnabas Tharmr, Warden of Darkness and dominant of Odin, who was said to have crossed into Ash nearly a century prior. He knew just as well that Lord Cidolfus Telamon was likewise no native to the Twins. He knew all of this, and still…
Even on those outer continents, they had Bearers. They knew of the Curse and its burden. They knew of Valisthea. This woman knew nothing of the sort.
She called their current location a “world.” As opposed to the world he knew? Was she speaking metaphorically or…?
It was too much to ponder, and far too much to make sense of.
”I…” he started with no clear direction in mind. It would have made his tutors in etiquette cringe and slap the back of his hand. But what was there to say to such a claim? Nothing, perhaps. But silence had only hindered him thus far.
”I…fell in a conflict with a false god,” he said slowly. ”I sacrificed myself so that my two remaining allies might defeat him in my stead. That is the last I remember.”
To any Valisthean outside Ifrit’s Hideaway, his claim would have seemed almost nonsensical. They knew nothing of Ultima or the cause of that terrible fortress in the sky formed of the remains of Twinside.
”If this is…truly another realm as you claim. Then could this be the Goddess’ doing?” It was a question for himself, quiet and contemplative. He closed his eyes, his will leaving him once more. ”And is it mercy or a curse…?”
[attr=class,bulk] Yuna watched Dion carefully as a mix of familiar emotions played out over his face. Confusion, denial, sorrow. She wished she could cure those for him along with his ribs, but she couldn’t help much with anything except to answer his questions as they came up. Summoners were apparently unfamiliar to him, which made her smile a little sadly. “You must not have them. In general it seems to just mean people who can call upon creatures of great power. In Spira it was a bit more complicated than that, but that story can wait.” Learning about summoners was definitely not the most important thing that must have been on his mind right now.
Dion finally mentioned a “Valishthea” and asked if this was not that place. “No, it isn’t,” she said gently. “Zephon is the continent we’re on right now. In the country of Provo. Lots of farmers and traders come through here.” That was the barest overview, but Yuna didn’t want to overwhelm him with too much information while he was still healing.
Perhaps in response to her comment that the people who were brought to Zephon usually had something to do with world-ending disasters, Dion shared the memory of his sacrifice directly before he had woken up in her clinic. “A false god…” Yuna smiled at him a little sadly given how familiar that sounded. “Then you’ll fit right in around here. I think we’ll have a lot to talk about when you’re feeling better.”
Dion then asked if his teleportation could be the doing of his goddess, which Yuna had no answer for, but she clasped her hands together as he asked whether being here was a mercy or a curse. “I think it can be whatever you make of it. I’ve seen plenty of people find their own purposes here and grow to be happy. As long as you don’t let yourself stagnate.”
It occurred to her that he was probably worried for the other two people that he’d mentioned. The two who had gone on to fight his false god while he had stayed behind. “I’ll let you know if I hear of anyone else from Valisthea,” Yuna offered as she stood up from her chair again. “You’re the first I’ve heard of so far, but there could absolutely be others since you just arrived.” Yuna herself hadn’t had much luck over the years finding her guardians, but she wished the best for everyone else who was new to their search.
[attr=class,bulk] The healer was, as ever, kind. She spoke with patience and sympathy, answering each of his questions with an almost motherly compassion. She was truly gifted in her craft. If he allowed his mind to still and simply listened to the cadence and warmth of her voice, he might find himself lulled into a peace he had never known. Between the pain and the confusion, it was a strong temptation, but he found that he could not. A lifetime of expectation and purpose would not allow it.
”I must return,” Dion half-breathed, his voice cracking with the effort. ”While I still draw breath…” But he could not finish the sentence, not while his head spun with its proximity to death.
His body urged him to drift into the quiet peace of oblivion. He would wake again, healed to the best of this woman’s abilities, or he would not. Even the act of speech had exhausted him. But his sense of duty kept him from that temptation.
”Even if Ultima has been slain…Even if my comrades defeated him, the realm was in chaos. I must take responsibility for its people. For my people!” His stomach turned at the thought of the empire’s territories, fractured and abandoned with neither armies nor leadership to defend them. Even he had chosen to lead his men to Dhalmekia where they might defend Storm’s last remaining city rather than rallying the people of Sanbreque. He had not been able to face them as their failed prince, as their corrupted Bahamut, as the slayer of his bloodline.
”There must be a way. Whether this be the work of gods or men, there must be…!” Dion trailed off, fighting to catch his breath. ”Until that time, I cannot rest.”
[attr=class,bulk] Dion didn’t seem to think that she was lying, but Yuna didn’t know if that was a relief or not when he looked so horrified. He protested that he had to return home, and the summoner nodded slowly since she didn’t want to dash his hopes entirely. “I don’t personally know of a way, but…there have been people who come here and then are just gone one day. Maybe they really did find a way home. Zephon is a big world. You can explore it yourself once you’re healed.” And then because Dion seemed to need to hear it, Yuna gave him a firm look. “Once you’re healed,” she reiterated. He’d already cracked his ribs again. If he did it again, she was going to start charging him for ethers.
He expressed that he needed to take responsibility for the people of his realm, and Yuna smiled more gently. “So you are a leader.” She knew his worries all too well. She could only imagine how Spira was faring when the church of Yevon had been revealed as a sham and Sin was suddenly gone. Even if the source of their suffering was gone, the world was still in chaos. “Trust in the people you’ve left behind,” Yuna advised him as she looked down at her hands and twisted the silver blossom-shaped ring around her finger. “Even when it hurts to not be there with them.” Her guardians would help guide Spira forward, and there were enough good people in each of the temples that Yuna just had to hope that everything could be okay. There wasn’t much else she could do from here.
Dion reiterated that he would not rest until he found a way home, and Yuna gave him another sad smile. “Alright, but maybe you should rest right now? You can sleep while I work if you want, and then hopefully the pain will be gone when you wake up.” He’d probably have some residual stiffness for days, but that was only because his injuries had been so bad to begin with. Yuna had feared for his life when he’d first arrived, so she was just grateful that Dion had woken up at all.
[attr=class,bulk] The healer’s voice was soft and reassuring. She humored him, but that’s all it was. A kind, well-intentioned humoring. He knew the tone well enough to recognize it even in his half-conscious state. He wished that he could thank her for it. He wished that he could feel gratitude, but beneath the panic, the confusion, and the pain, there was no room for such sentimental things.
It pained him that he could not grant her the proper dues of respect. Perhaps at another time when his chest did not ache as much with his wounds as with his desperation. He would owe her a great debt indeed for the comfort she had offered him, a stranger with nothing to his name. He owed her his life, and perhaps in time, he would find the chance to offer it to her.
For now, however, the healer was stern and assertive in her instructions. He must cease any thoughts of return until he had healed. It was a reasonable request, and one that he feared he could not follow.
Still, Dion took the effort to nod slightly in recognition. She granted him advice – to trust in those he had left behind. His heart ached with greater force. Terence. It was the only name that came to him. The only face which swam ever familiar in his mind. Perhaps he could rest easier if he knew even if he still lived, but he did not. Neither did he know of Ifrit’s cohort nor the forces of the Holy Order of Dragoons. Dion had fallen in battle, one of three dominants remaining who still had the power to stand against Ultima, and yet, it had been for naught. That dark god’s strength made child’s play of even an Eikon’s power. With Dion’s fall, only Ifrit and the Phoenix remained.
Did Valisthea still stand? Did humanity still grace its surface? And why was it that Dion still drew breath, that he was ever conscious of the rapid pounding of his heart?
Had the Goddess taken pity upon him? Was this his reward for his service unfaltering? It felt far more like the cruelest of punishments.
Dion let his head fall back with an exhausted sigh. The healer insisted that he rest. And, as much as he was loathe to admit it, he could do nothing in this state but worry.
”Thank you,” he muttered. It was lackluster and far less than she deserved, but he found he could muster nothing else. Instead, he closed his eyes once more, this time unconcerned for his conscious state. She would work easier, he thought, without his resistance. Even so, he could not help the thoughts that weaved their way through his subconscious, teased out like a weaver worrying at their threads.
When he dreamed, it was of darkness all-encompassing and of a great, unfathomable fall.
