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    1. OutlawTorn 10 yrs ago

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Songs that helped inspire Michael J. Saulnier's' Final Fantasy I-III

Alexisonfire - Young Cardinals
Main Theme

Gary Jules - Mad World
Ana Maria Grace's Theme

Creed - Bullets
Casius Magnus' Theme

Bullet For My Valentine - Hearts Burst Into Fire
Seto Bobaloo Sobral's Theme

Burn Halo - Save Me
Stryker's Theme

Disturbed - Overburdened
Marrick Cross' Theme

Creed - What If
Cid Armstrong's Theme

Walk Off The Earth - Red Hands
Banion Warbear's Theme

Fallout Boy - My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light 'Em Up)
Lillian Nobunaga's Theme

3 Doors Down - It's Not My Time
Bastian Fairhart's Theme

Epic Score - Prepare For The End
Sarovoc Ducrinus' Theme

RipTide Music - Ultraviolence
Leo Strata's Theme

Evanesceence - My Immortal
Ana & Seto

Epic Score - Creator of Worlds
Bahamut's Theme

Epic Score - Time Will Remember Us
Alexander's Theme

Imagine Dragons - Radioactive
Bahamut ZERO's Theme

Skrillex - First of The Year (Equinox)
Lyra Strata vs Lillian Nobunaga

Disturbed - Deify
Marrick Cross & Sarovoc Ducrinus

Lifehouse - Broken
The Death of A Heroine

Alexisonfire - This Could Be Anywhere In The World
An Ode To Zenobia

Epic Score - They Hit Without Warning
Gilgamesh vs Alexander

Epic Score - You Were Born For This
The Final Battle (Seto vs Sarovoc)

Gothic Storm - Whisper Of Hope
Remembering The Fallen

Final Fantasy VIII OST - The Landing
A Foreboding Conclusion
Owen and Allison Watson sat together in a nice restaurant in downtown New Haven. It was their favorite spot in town. Owen brought her here on their first date four years ago, and they have been coming here since.

Allison was twenty-five. She had long brown hair, fair skin and brown eyes to match her hair. She laughed out loud, smiling.

"I'm not kidding," Owen said, taking a sip of his coke. He had to drive home tonight, so Allison was drinking wine alone. "It was fucking crazy, there was a pack of wolves just staring at me. One of 'em had the brightest blue eyes. I don't know," he said, pecking at his food. "Felt like they were gonna attack me or something."

Allison giggled. "Whatever."

"I'm serious."

"So what happened?"

"I shot one of 'em and the rest ran away." Allison's jaw dropped. "I'm kidding," Owen said, laughing as he tried to get the words out.

After the laughter died down, Allison got more serious.

"Anything else weird happen at work lately?" she asked, sipping her wine.

He was a little put off and it left a tell.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, his mind racing at this point.

She smiled. "Steve put me up to it. He's worried about you, and now so am I."

Owen leaned back in his chair. He was upset that his best friend and partner would sandbag him and ruin a dinner with his girlfriend like that.

"It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing, it sounded pretty serious. He just wanted ME to talk to you."

He granted a tiny, wee little smile. "Fair enough, but it was nothing... just a... Look, it's better if you don't know the details."

She rolled her eyes. "Fair enough. Just promise me you're okay."

He smiled wide. "I'm fine."
Main Characters

Anastasia Maria Grace
Seto Bobaloo Sobral
Casius Magnus
Marrick Cross
Cideon Armstrong
Hans Venechenko
Lillian Nobunaga
Banion Warbear
Biggs Armstrong
Wedge Armstrong
Dorian Cunin
Juakeem Mohinder
Sha'elle
Boko
Henato Bobaloo Sobral Jr.
Sedato Bobaloo Sobral
Bastian Fairheart
Allister Galloway
Vicks Hitaku
Henato Bobaloo Sobral Sr.
Elder Kirin
Chieftain Akena
Priestess Talla

Sarovoc Ducrinus
Chief Agent Victor Chimera
Agent Leo Strata
Agent Lyra Strata
Agent Tallis "Tank" Cortez
Agent Callixta "Raven" Ravana
Agent Simon "Cypher" Heidt
Lucious Ducrinus
Lazarus Ducrinus
Tybin Marks
Sabin Marks

Lead Cast


Character histories have been summarized, highlighting main points of a character's background and origin. This has been done to keep some stuff held for IC development, given that I currently have no co-writers, only readers. Consider it anti-spoiler measures. :)

More characters will be added.

Ana

Name: Anastasia Maria Grace
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Race: Zenobian
Occupation: Resistance Fighter
Alignment: Divine
Personality: Ana is a simple girl with simple needs and values that drive her complex way of life. She's humble, semi-shy, polite, and passive. To meet her on the street, you would think she's a sixteen year old choir girl from a local church. She radiates innocence and pureness. But beneath her genuinely angelic shell, a beast lies dormant. Ana is willing to fight and die for her values of freedom, equality, and universal justice. We meet the fragile desert rose in Zenobia, but as this journey unfolds, the fiery beast will emerge, and we will see a new side of Ana stand up to fight for the people of Zenobia.

History: Ana grew up in District 89 of the slums of Zenobia. Not quite the outer badlands, but not quite the sophisticated sub-metropolis of the inner slums; a District in the middle. It was still no picnic, the slums will be the slums. With three of her best friends, Jin, Willow and Kato, she helped form and lead The Zenobian Resistance... Four kids from the slums. Noble, however meager. Ana and her friends decided to make a move, and a big one. They aim to hit Zenobia Prime, and hit it hard.

Seto

Name: Seto Bobaloo Sobral
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Race: Tribe of Sobral
Occupation: Mercenary
Alignment: (Chaotic) Righteous
Personality: Seto struggles with identity issues, and responsibilities of a past he left behind a long time ago. Seto has a lot to learn about himself, where he comes from, and what that ultimately means... For a long time, he's viewed being honorable and righteous as weak, naive even. He's built a complex defense system around his heart, attempting to harden himself against the world, and obtain what he believes is power, control, and a strong will to impose upon his foes. By nature, however, Seto Sobral is a man of the old world. He values honor, truth, justice, and the old way of life.

History: Seto was raised amongst the ancient tribe of the Sobral Clan, one of the oldest races on the planet, survivors of the Great War thousands of years ago. He is the youngest of three boys, and was always the runt of the litter. His brothers Henato (oldest) and Sedato Bobaloo Sobral are tribal heroes, fine warriors and honorable men. Long has Seto lived in their shadow, struggled with the pressure of conforming to their mold. Ten years ago, when Seto was just 15 years old, he ran away from the tribe in search of a new home. A place where he could find his true self, and be accepted for it.

Seto unknowingly carries with him something of such importance, such magnitude, that it will forever reshape the face of history, once again...

Note: The (Chaotic) in Seto's Alignment refers to events which occur when Seto comes into possession of the summons Diablos, and Doomtrain. They subsequently taint his "soul"; their dark power influencing and consuming him, before he is relieved of this burden by Casius Magnus.

Cas

Name: Casius Magnus
Age: ?
Gender: Male
Race: Black Mage
Occupation: Nomadic Warrior
Alignment: Chaotic Righteous (Divine)
Personality: Casius, not unlike any Black Mage is governed entirely by logic, reason, and a factual, non-emotional frame of mind and existence. Black Mages feel the very basics of human emotions. Rage, sorrow, guilt, fear, but they are so dull, so repressed that they aren't allowed to influence the choices and judgment of a Black Mage. As a result, Casius' personality is very odd. He is a quiet, gentle man, but when the necessity presents itself, Casius is very violent, destructive, "devastating".
History: Casius was raised in one of the most prominent of Black Mage tribes. A disciple of martial arts and Black Magic from the time he was just a young boy. Casius became a powerful, well respected member of the Black Mage tribes, favored to lead the Tribal Council one day. But as Casius aged, he became restless. He longed for more. More power, wisdom, experience, as opposed to growing old within the biased, closed off Black Mage tribes. Against the will of the Council, Casius left the tribes, sacrificing his heritage, and his roots. For any Black Mage who chooses the outside world over his own people, is considered an exile, no longer welcome amongst the tribes. Casius now travels the vast expanses of the world, seeking his higher form of existence.

Note: The (Divine) in Cas' Alignment refers to something very special. How can I put this... Casius proves himself beyond reasonable doubt, and in exchange for what he does, he is... "rewarded". You'll have to wait well into Final Fantasy IV for this one.[/i]

Cid

Name: Cideon Armstrong
Age: 52
Gender: Male
Race: Zenobian
Occupation: Captain
Alignment: Good
Personality: Cid is a rough and tumble old stallion who is both compassionate and wise. He bounces from determined hardass, to passive sage where and when needed. He becomes the leader of the protagonist crew in many ways. But it's more than just his ship that earns him the title of leader. He is decisive when he must be, and supportive when he must be. He's a well balanced mix of the various Cids we've encountered in the franchise, as he was created to be.
History: Cid is a retired member of the Zenobian Army. For twenty years he served the Ducrinus Administration, running ships, leading units, and training soldiers. Over the years, Cid witnessed aweful things, even played a hand in some of them. But he continued to serve his country and people, a duty which, at the time, felt like the right thing to do. But after the Zenobian army destroyed a small town where his brother lived with his wife and children, Cid's attitude changed completely. After the death of his brother, he was charged with caring for his nephews, two small boys. It was no easy feat for the old war horse, but he had to do what he had to do. He was still overwhelmed by the guilt and rage of his past, and with the help of some rebels, he was inspired to atone for his sins, and work toward earning his brother's forgiveness before they met again in the world beyond. Cid came into possession of a small, outdated airship, and began to raise his nephews aboard the vessel he called, The Valiant. For years they have been sailing the skies, assisting rebel forces abroad. It's the only way Cid knows how to atone for his past, and avenge the death of his brother.

Stryker

Name: Stryker?
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Race: Zenobian
Occupation: Retired Zenobian Special Forces/Owner & Operator, Rebel Radio
Alignment: Good
Personality: Styker is a bit a of a brute. He's quick to draw, and quicker to pull the trigger. He avoids nonsense of any kind when it comes down to business. He's a rough, tough customer who is rarely known to mince words. He has a very low tolerance for dramatics, very little patients, and he likes to get things done in swift and convincing fashion. He's usually the one offering brute force solutions to problems while the rest of the gang waste time worrying about the little things.
History: Stryker is a former Zenobian Special Forces soldier who served Lucious for a very long time, knee deep in the Ducrinus filth. He wrestles with demons and ghosts from his past as he tries to reform himself, and atone for his sins. After the death of his daughter, Stryker's wife left him, unable to cope. He's been alone since. Several years after, while hanging around the slums, Stryker overheard a group of Zenobians listening to a man on the radio. This man had been sending transmissions over the Zenobia News channel's signal. Prerecorded messages to the Zenobian people, telling them that they weren't alone, and that the revolution was on it's way. The man, although captured soon after and executed, had become a hero of the common people. It inspired Stryker on a profound level, and the rest is history.

Lilly

Name: Lillian Nobunaga
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Race: Surbian
Occupation: Swordstress
Alignment: Good
Personality: Lilly is a strong willed, tough woman. She is compassionate to the rebel struggle, and despises the Zenobian Empire. She is one fiery woman with more attitude than most men could handle. She's a soft spoken, quite woman who is very introverted. She's a true warrior princess of the Surbian people, who were wiped out by the long arm of Zenobia twelve years ago.
History: Lillian Nobunaga is a native Surbian warrior trained in the art of Swordtrem, an ancient martial art formed around the use of a sword against any sized and armed foe perfected. Twelve years ago, the Zenobian Empire reached Surba in their conquest to overthrow and destroy the old world. Lilly's people were massacred, leaving only a tiny portion of them alive to this day. Lilly proudly, and viciously carries the torch of her people, burning bright through the edge of her blade.

Biggs

Name: Biggs Armstrong
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Zenobian/Arnene
Occupation: Rebel
Alignment: Righteous
Personality: Biggs is the strong, silent type. Like Casius, he usually has little to offer the conversation, besides what's necessary. Like his little brother, Biggs is a free spirited, philosophical man who values insight into the world, and the set of morals his uncle Cid instilled in them.
History: Biggs and Wedge share an identical history. After their village was destroyed by Zenobians, they were taken into the care of their uncle Cideon, a man they hardly knew. It was tough for them both, but they had each other, and eventually, they warmed up to Cid, learned to love him like a father. They've spent most of their lives aboard The Valiant, helping in the fight against the Zenobian Empire.

Wedge

Name: Wedge Armstrong
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Zenobian/Arnene
Occupation: Rebel
Alignment: Righteous
Personality: Wedge is a simple man. Like his brother, he's a dreamer, somewhat naive at his core. The Armstrong brothers have been sheltered by Cid, despite their living aboard an active rebel vessel, and being rebels themselves. Cid raised the boys with a strong moral code and value system, in many ways, teaching them based on the mistakes of his own life. Wedge is a light hearted, fun loving young man who loves as passionately as he fights.
History: Biggs and Wedge share an identical history. After their village was destroyed by Zenobians, they were taken into the care of their uncle Cideon, a man they hardly knew. It was tough for them both, but they had each other, and eventually, they warmed up to Cid, learned to love him like a father. They've spent most of their lives aboard The Valiant, helping in the fight against the Zenobian Empire.

Marrick

Name: Marrick Cross
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Race: White Mage
Occupation: Rogue Paladin
Alignment: Good
Personality: Marrick is a strong willed, arrogant and confident man. Since his betrayal at the hands of his former master, Marrick has grown callus and bitter. He's learned to be ruthless and calculating; even underhanded when he must be. His own survival and interests have become his primary concern, although his loyalty at heart will always be with Whiteguard and his people.
History: Marrick was born into and served the Whiteguard Paladin's Order. For twelve years he devoted his existence faithfully to the Order. Never questioning or doubting the teachings of the Arch Mage, or the tasks and duties he was given. He was a model Paladin, and servant of Alexander's creed, and the Arch Mage's will. But all of that devotion and loyalty was betrayed by the Arch Mage four years ago. Marrick (who had been betrothed to a young maiden after reaching the rank of Master Paladin) had developed a secret love affair with the granddaughter of the Arch Mage for several years. Their love was forbidden in more than one way, as it were. Arianna was only 18 years of age when they first met, making her two years shy of the purity age as the White Mages decree. When a young woman comes upon her 20th birthday, she is deemed old enough to pursue affairs of the heart and body. But not only was Arianna too young for the 28 year old Paladin, but she was the granddaughter of the Arch Mage. Two years into their torrid love affair, Marrick, drunken with love for Arianna, kneeled before the Arch Mage seeking his blessing, and permission to take his granddaughter's hand in marraige. This, of course, outraged the Arch Mage, and Marrick was subsequently stripped of his rank, land, and exiled from Whiteguard forever.

Left as an outcast, Marrick travelled for years, seeking a new home. It was through his travels that Marrick learned of the Zenobian Empire, and their conquest to destroy everything, and everyone. He has since become affiliated with the rebel forces, helping where and when he can to keep the Empire at bay, and away from Whiteguard.

Banion

Name: Banion Warbear
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Turrian
Occupation: Warrior Monk
Alignment: Righteous
Personality: Banion is a gentle, loving, wise man who is very in tune with the forces and balances of the world. He loves and respects nature, and all of the animals and life which belong to her. He is passive by nature, but aggressive when he must be. A true protector, and guardian of nature.
History: A child of Turra, and proud tribesman. Banion grew up a fierce hunter and warrior. Gifted with size, strength, athleticism, and a remarkable personality. He quickly became a student of the Temple of Turra, studying Turrian martial arts and the belief system of the Turra monks. He became a hero of his native land by the time he was just 22, earning the name, Warbear.

At 25, Banion was summoned back to the Temple of Turra by his masters. It was not a celebratory occasion. Word had reached Turra of a vast, evil entity sweeping across the eastern plains, consuming with machine and fire everything in their path. Zenobia!

Banion has been leading his fellow tribesman ever since, fighting the Zenobians using the powerful, mystical arts taught to him by the Turra Monks.

Sarovoc

Name: Sarovoc Ducrinus
Age: 41
Gender: Male
Race: Zenobian
Occupation: President, Zenobia Prime
Alignment: Wicked
Personality: Sarovoc is a callus, monster of a man. Plain and simple.
History: N/A

Victor

Name: Victor Chimera
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Race: Zenobian
Occupation: N/A
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Personality: Victor is a ruthless, calculating man, but often misunderstood. Victor is a man who has been molded by the Zenobian government to serve a single purpose, complete any task assigned to him, without question or hesitation. His past, the things he's done, is the only thing he knows. His sense of right and wrong has been shattered by his masters. Despite his effectiveness as an Agent, he is a man like any other. Capable of love, sympathy, fear, happiness. He is emotionally aware and empathetic to certain situations. Unlike most of our Antagonist cast, Victor has the capacity to identify right from wrong in those extreme cases, such as Ana Maria Grace, and his compassion for her. But let's not forget, although Victor chose to spare Ana from Sarovoc, his solution was to kill her...
History: N/A

Leo

Name: Leo Strata
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Shinjan
Occupation: Zenobian Agent
Alignment: Wicked
Personality: Leo is a text book sociopath. He rarely shows any form of personality at all. He is a man so broken, so damaged, that he is more dangerous than a nuclear warhead.
History: N/A

Lyra

Name: Lyra Strata
Age: 32
Gender: Female
Race: Shinjan
Occupation: Zenobian Agent
Alignment: Evil
Personality: Lyra is a wicked little thing. She enjoys the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of the kill. Only in Lyra's case, the prey are human beings. She's witty, even has a sense of humor, perhaps some compassion where her brother lacks it. Unlike Leo, she is capable of emotion, or at least she isn't afraid to show it.
History: N/A
Regarding The Summons


I have put a serious amount of work into not only the Summons, and how they fit into this story, but also the lore and stories behind them all. Fundamentally speaking, this series of stories is about them. They consume a large portion of the plot in the first 5 stories. They will be the consistent characters in every story, and this is because they are not just spells or incantations, conjured to retire one's foes. They are Deities; Gods and founders of the world. I played with many ideas, so many, trying to (as with most of this project) make it perfect in every aspect and right. In the end, I felt it was so fitting, ultimately right for them. Not only have they felt like deity figures to me this whole time, some being inspired by deity figures (Odin, for example), but they even, some of them, have elemental foundations or attributes. Does God of Fire suit Ifrit, or Goddess of Frost suit Shiva? Hell yes! And after I assembled a [starter] pantheon of sorts, it was as though I'd stumbled upon something Square and Mr. Sakaguchi had placed there all along. A little insider-Easter egg they'd been working on for 8 games, it made so much sense, and fit together so perfectly. The main summons of the first 8 games made a perfect set of deities to form the foundation of a stage that could host multiple epics of legendary calibur using the beauty and genius of Final Fantasy principles and influences. That's how I gave this story and series a purpose, an anchor, if you will. The summons were the key to taking this from the concept for 1 story, to a 5+ part epic series. And the process of building the summon system all started with Bahamut.

Let me take you back to '87, share with you a nugget of FF history. FFI has just dropped on the NES. At this point, there are no summons. They won't come until FFIII. But, who's this big, blue, badass dragon who periodically helps me throughout the storyline, watching over my quest like some sort of guardian? Bahamut! And he just upgraded my party's classes for them... You're radical, B-man, like totally far-out dude!

Indeed, before the summons themselves, at square 1 when it all, this epic, wild journey began, Bahamut was there. And in many of those early games he was the most powerful summon on the roster. Even in Tactics, he's the strongest of the bunch.

In fitting fashion, Bahamut is the oldest, most powerful God. He is THE God of Gods; creator of worlds. But in creating the world, Bahamut needed assistance when it came to certain things, or at least you could say it made things a lot easier. So Bahamut created Greater Gods to govern over the forces of the world, and help give it life.

To govern time and the principles that would contain the world (physics); Ramuh, the wise and powerful sage.

To rule over the conflicting forces of darkness and light;. Hades, sorcerer of destruction and weaver of shadows. And Alexander, holy knight of purity and justice.

To represent the conflict between them, and the neutral, ruthless nature of war; Odin, the mounted warlord. 

To rule the soil and rock; Titan, the mighty giant.

To rule flame and ember; Ifrit, beast of hellfire.

To rule water and ice; the twins, Shiva and Siren, beautiful and fierce.

To rule thunder, most powerful and volatile of all elements; Palidor, great wyvern of thunder.

To rule the sky and winds; Sylph, soft wispmother of the night skies.

Together, Bahamut and his ten Greater Gods created the world, and all of it's creatures. But five very special species were created. These creatures were of greater quality and potential than all of the others.

First, showing the others how, Bahamut created what is now known as The Tribe of Sobral.

Then Odin butted in and tried his hand, creating regular men which can be found all over the world in great numbers. (Ramuh then proceeded to shorten their lifespan as compared to that of the White Mage, or far superior "Sobral"(Bahamai, meaning child of Bahamut, or Bobaloo, child of the dragon)).

Alexander (displeased and annoyed with Odin and his creations), created the superior White Mages. 

Now Hades came forward from the vast darkness, grinning at his brother Alexander, no doubt intending to upstage him. He created a race of men second only to the Bahamai. A race with a vast physical, mental, and mystical capacity. The Black Mage. (This upset Alexander, but his resolve and confidence in his children remained, and they rose to become the dominant, most powerful race of men for a long era in those beginning times. But after The Great War, their empire collapsed, leaving most of them slaves which have faded anonymously into bloodlines all over the world. This has left hundreds of millions of part-White Mage people living oblivious to their gifts and potential.)

Last to create his men was Ramuh, who in typical fashion, mulled over the task for an extended period of time. When he was finally done, the Time Mages were born. A race that would ultimately be the greatest of them all. Living for thousands of years. Having access to a well and scope of power so great, it can be entrusted to only the chosen few. Having acute, other-worldly senses. They live in seclusion, rarely making outside contact.

An era passes which sees mortal men grow and flourish. But the first serious problem comes in the form of a rebellious, destructive god.

Palidor's wild, violent, unpredictable nature draws much mortal and god attention. Great thunder storms smash the world, often for days, sometimes weeks on end. Something must be done, and coming as no surprise Ramuh steps up to the task.

He steals dominion over thunder by turning Palidor into a staff which he uses to wield his power.

Things return to normal again.

But the hands of gods grow restless when idle. Again Bahamut teaches the young Gods how to use his gifts.

Being the oldest and strongest of the group, he created two offspring, all more powerful than any other God.

Neo Bahamut, Guardian of the Sun.

Lunar Bahamut, Guardian of the Moon.

But Bahamut also, for reasons which will never be known, created Chaos Bahamut by purging some of the evil and darkness from himself (for he was equal parts "good" and "evil", light and dark).

After The Great War, Lunar Bahamut and Chaos Bahamut became Bahamut ZERO to protect the world from anything like that happening again. Bahamut ZERO is the most powerful force in the universe. A space-dwelling dragon of immense size and power.

Each Greater God created Lesser Gods to act as servants, slaves, pets, or messengers.

From his blade, Alexander created Crusader, mighty and brave paladin. 
He also [after The Great War] created Knights Of The Round(there once was twelve...) from the souls of Bahamut's chosen heroes who had proven themselves during or before The Great War. 

Hades created Diablos, fiend and warlock of the underworld, from the darkness of the underworld. Later, he created Doomtrain, train of the damned, from the forlorn souls of the dead. 

Odin created Gilgamesh, the mystic and masterful warrior, from the fiery soul of Sleipnir, his horse, and the essence of the warrior from Gungnir, his sword.

Ramuh created Quezicotl, another great wyvern of thunder, from [Palidor] his staff.

Ifrit created Phoenix, fiercely burning bird of prey, from a great breath of fire.

Titan created Golem, giagantic guardian of stone, from a chunk of rock from the earth.

Shiva created Icen, great frost serpent, from a lock of her hair (Icen was killed in the Great War).

Siren created Leviathan, great sea serpent, from a lock of her hair, as her sister created Icen.

Sylph created Typhoon, wild and furious whirlwind, from a raging tornado.

The lore and history of the Summons will be explored in further detail in Final Fantasy IV, a story some of you will get the chance to participate in. New Summons will also be introduced in Final Fantasy IV, including Cactuar, Knights of The Round(now 15 with many more yet to be seen...) and Hades will make his debut.
A Word For The Readers



Final Fantasy is something that has been in my life for over twenty years, which is practically my entire life. It has inspired me from as early back as I can remember. Before the world had been seduced by the story of a little flower girl from Midgar, I was sitting in front of my sister's NES slaying hordes of goblins and wolves on a quest to save the world in the original Final Fantasy title.

I'm not fucking around here... As a radical vintage Square fan, someone who not only enjoyed those games, but a young boy who was profoundly moved and inspired by those games, I'm promising you a beautiful, unforgettable story. I mean, Square games inspired me profoundly when I was growing up. Xenogears, especially. Words cannot begin to describe how genius and masterful the storyline is. It's something my heart longs for everyone to experience, because it's so perfect. As a 14 year old boy, it moved me as a human being. It opened up my mind in a way that was indescribable, and I've been chasing that in a good story ever since, unable to find it anywhere.

The concept of this story came to me pretty quickly when the initial idea was formed. But I've worked tirelessly on the details of fleshing out this story, world, and these characters. The result is, in my (obvious) opinion, the ultimate homage to not only (but primarily) Vintage Final Fantasy, but Vintage Squaresoft. I've included franchise staples like Cid, Biggs, Wedge, and the classic airship. I've also harkened back to some fan favorites. The Black & White Mage. I've also drawn a lot of inspiration from the Final Fantasy Tactics Job system, including Time Mages, and Monks. And for those who were itching for it this entire time, the Summons play a massive role in this world, it's lore, and the storyline of Final Fantasy, and Final Fantasy IV, a role play you will have the chance to participate in and help dictate the outcome of.

I've chosen to make the summons the deities of this world (I'll be getting directly into info on the primary set of summons right away, as they are at the core of this world and series of stories. I always felt the summons were shelved; sluffed off as backdrop spells who had story and character only in the eyes of the people who created them. FFVI was brilliant in that respect, with the Espers having real character and playing such a role in the plot of the game. I wanted to do that as well, but in my own way of paying tribute to FFVI). Mortals came to command their power centuries ago, and that helps form the premise of FFIV. We'll dive into the story behind how and why that happened, and whether or not it was a good idea to go digging them up after centuries of being dormant, as well whether or not they should be buried once again.

To clarify for everyone; Final Fantasy I-III are essentially three parts to one complete story following this set of characters and their journey to rebel against the Zenobian Empire.

Final Fantasy IV takes place some time after the events of I-III. It features several of the original characters, and is a direct sequel to the first three installments (as all future stories will be; set in the same world).

Final Fantasy V takes place a while after IV, and the time of our original heroes. But it keeps coming back to the summons, and Zenobia. 

"What's down there? What secrets of my fathers do you keep, dear uncle?"
-Sarovoc Ducrinus, Final Fantasy II

The plot of V is focused around yet another summon, and yet another dark secret of Zenobia that will stir up even more trouble. Truth will have it, there is a reason for Zenobia's drastic leap in technological advancement, and it's not really good scientists and engineers... The destruction of Zenobia's core has disturbed something very old and powerful. Something that has been held captive, and locked away for centuries. A dark and forgotten secret of Zenobia's shady, mysterious past. When this problem becomes evident, it will be up to a new era of heroes to save the world from this long lost deity's revengeful wrath.


But for now, let's walk through this journey together from the very start. And focus on the unforgettable, profound story of Ana Maria Grace, the average girl from the slums of Zenobia who inspired the world to fight, and who became a legend for generations upon generations to come.

 It's going to be everything you expect from a Final Fantasy, and hopefully more. This isn't your standard grade FF. It's probably going to be one of the more mature and complex Final Fantay stories you've digested. I strived to make this story perfect, turning to Xenogears, FFVII & FFVI a lot when in doubt. I have a lot of confidence in this project, because in 7 stellar years of role playing, creating over 50 unique, interest capturing and successful RPs, this is the best story I've ever concieved by a sizable margin.


I believe Square-Enix would be proud.


I hope everyone enjoys this story, and I want to thank everyone who reads it ahead of time.
This story is Dedicated to Sunal Wolfsbane, my dear old friend.


The night was hot and humid. The streets of New Haven were quiet and eerie. The orange light from lampposts was polished into a fine, dense glow by the heavy moisture in the air. It was one of those nights when the empty streets felt both inviting, and menacing. For Deputy Sheriff Owen Reznik, this particular night had been quiet, uneventful so far. He sat in his squad car eating a hamburger and listening to the radio at a low volume. He was putting in a solo shift tonight. New Haven was a fairly small, relaxed town. Deputy's often worked the graveyard shift alone, although backup was never too far, should it be needed.

Owen was a caucasian male of thirty-two years with short black hair and a hansom, defined face with bright green eyes. He had a small, jagged scar above his upper lip from when he was eleven years old. During a Little League baseball practice, he had taken a fly-ball straight to the mouth after failing to catch it with his glove. Funny thing, fear. He never quite shook that one day, that one incident. As a result, he became a bench-warmer, and didn't return for a second year. Sometimes you have to ask yourself; if I had caught that ball, that fateful day, could I be playing for the Yankees right now? Fate is not to be taken lightly, you see. Even if you don't believe in it. For fate in of itself does not exist, it's just a word we use to make the course of our lives more tangible; to vindicate our failures and glorify our successes. You get up in the morning and consider calling in sick. Instead you get in the car to drive to work, and you're T-boned by a semi two blocks from your home. Was it fate, or random chance? Could you have actually stayed home, or by your own will and admission, was it your destiny to cross that intersection that morning? It's enough to drive you insane. Luckily for Owen, he was a simple, new world man of simple beliefs. As far as he'd be concerned, fate would play no part in the events which were about to unfold.

The dispatcher, Carey came over the radio.

Owen. You're around Kennedy Park, right?"

He re-wrapped the burger and put it down in the passenger seat, swallowing that last bite. Grabbing the microphone, he answered Carey. That old familiar doubt and anticipation lingered in the back of his mind. You never knew what your next call would be. What you'd be going into. A kid caught shoplifting, or a standoff with six heavily armed criminals. You could say it was like a box of chocolates; you never knew what you were going to get.

"Yeah, Carey. I'm sitting on Park Lane right now."

"I need you over on Agricola. Some sort of disturbance between two men. It's the alleyway by 85. Doesn't sound serious, but be careful anyway."

"Copy that, dispatch. Heading there now."

Carey was a sweet young girl, only 19. She was attending university to be a criminologist. Owen liked her. Figured if things were a little different, if he hadn't met Allison... but there we go, dabbling in that fate nonsense again.

He pulled away from the curb he'd been parked at, heading north on Park Lane toward Agricola Street, which was only a few blocks north-east of his location. Kennedy Park was a nice area during the daytime, but it seemed to change after dark. It got more gritty and dangerous. So this call came as no surprise.

Cruising slowly down the street, he came to the alley near 85 Agricola. He shut the lights off and stopped discretely, assessing the scene. He made eyes on a man hunched over and mounted atop another person. He quickly called for backup, exiting the vehicle afterwards.

He approached the scene with his side-arm grasped firmly, the suspect directly between his sights.

"New Haven Sheriff's Department! Put your hands in the air where I can see 'em!"

He couldn't see the victim, but the person wasn't moving at all. The suspect however, slowly stood up with a menacing, hunched posture.

Owen's stomach tightened. "Easy! Keep your hands where I can see them, or I will open fire!"

The man slowly turned around, locking eyes with Owen. He held something in his right hand. Looked like a knife, or something long and metallic like a blade.

"Put the weapon down, and those hands up! Last warning!"

The suspect didn't comply, but rather advanced on Owen, as if to will his gun away and attack him as he had the poor soul laying behind him.

Owen panicked and squeezed the trigger as he'd been trained to for years.

A round exploded from the barrel and found it's mark in the suspect's chest. It pierced the left side of his breastplate with a vicious shock wave of recoil surging through tissue, flesh and clothing. What should have been a direct kill shot, seemed to have avoided him all together as he pressed forward still.

Owen squeezed the trigger again, horrified with disbelief. The man absorbed yet another 9mm round at close range. This one he actually seemed to feel. It slowed his pace, almost staggered him. That's when Owen heard the squealing of brakes pinching rubber. His backup had come crashing in at the sound of gun shots.

The suspect finally yielded, turning from Owen, dashing into the darkness of the alley, dropping the tool he'd been holding in the process. Owen took a few calculated steps to pursue, firing two more rounds which may or may not have found a mark.

What the hell just happened? Could what just happened have really happened? No time to really digest it.

His sight moved down toward the unidentified weapon. A long, metal spike, bloodied at the tip. This night couldn't get any stranger. With so much adrenaline and emotion surging through him, he almost picked it up, contaminating the evidence.

Settling down a little, he holstered his side-arm and rushed to the victim as another Deputy ran down the alley after Owen, gun drawn.

"What the hell's goin' on, Reznik?" the Deputy asked in a panic, looking around the scene frantically. He'd never had a call like this before. Shots fired and all. New Haven was a model American Town. Nothing like the neighbouring city of Blackwater, which was full to the brim with crime and violence.

Owen knelt next to the victim. There was blood everywhere. On the ground around him, soaked into his cloths, and all over his neck and face. As Owen went to check for a pulse, he took notice of two evenly spaced puncture wounds on the left side of the neck. He tightened his brow, perplexed even more than he had been. It would take a week to come off this adrenaline rush.

Hands slightly shaking, he checked the man for a pulse. No good. He was already dead.

Owen stood up slowly, glancing around the alley, inebriated with fear, shock, and confusion.
A LEGACY WRITTEN IN BLOOD
Rising

Introduction


"I prefer to go out at night, when the sun has rested after a long day of polishing the earth. The light is inherently forgiving in nature. It has a way of shining a false beauty over even the ugliest of situations. It gives cosmetic value to an otherwise worthless piece of merchandise. The light is the great deceiver, not the darkness. When the shadows close in around us and threaten to remind us of who we are, it's in the light we seek comfort and salvation.

I walk the streets of this forsaken city, past the dregs, junkies and whores. I see and hear everything that happens in these streets, this concrete Gomorrah.

I see a man, a spineless worm, unemployed and hooked on crack cocaine. He collects welfare checks from his brother's mailbox and lives with his girlfriend and her two small children. He spends every penny chasing a high he'll never satisfy and watches her kids suffer, neglected and deprived of a mother and childhood.

His eyes are fixed upon a young woman, a prostitute. Her long blonde hair, slim figure and schoolgirl face earn her the money she needs to care for the product of a trick gone horribly wrong; the uninvited seed of a low-life rapist. A foreign invader who left upon her both a gift and a curse, a bitter sweet signature left upon her world in the form of a pure, and life-long maternal love, marred by the memory of her violator every time she looks him in the eyes.

The pipe in his left coat pocket is still warm, and his mind races, the pane of glass between himself and reality slightly cracked and smudged. Only two things rest on his feeble, one-track mind; that perfect backside and the sexual release it will offer him, and the $600 which rests in her purse beside a loaded .45. Nothing good happens tonight, nothing that can be summed up beautifully, or packaged neatly by a deep moral observation.

People hide within the light, hoping, praying that all of their superficial bullshit is in any way true, or in any way will protect them from the cruel reality of the human condition... evil. Sin, and the capacity to commit sinful acts of violence, greed, or deviance dwell within us all. The road to heaven is paved with corpses... so watch your step."


—Preacher
This story is heavily based on a principle of mystery and suspense.

No information can be provided beyond the IC right now.

PM Me if you are interested.
Chapter 1
Sands of Zenobia


Ana dashed through the crowded, busy streets. Posters, banners, post-it adds and fliers were pasted, hung and tacked all over the city. In windows, on walls, utility poles, news stands, hanging from wires and cables strung from building to building, and on billboards laid out everywhere. People in fancy, new world cloths walked or drove vehicles around town, shopping and going about their business. The inner slums were booming on that sunny Saturday morning.

She stopped as she passed a television set in the window of an up-scale home electronics shop, just outside the core of the city. She leaned against the glass, listening to the sound of the picture machine. It was a simple recording of a woman giving a news update. News feeds were the only thing you could get in the slums, and the news was filtered propaganda.

"Efforts continue today in the signing of energy contracts that will allow Zenobia Prime to construct reactors and generators, virtually over the houses of land owners in the slums. Dozens of city blocks have had to make way for the massive project, forcing thousands of residents out of their homes if these contracts are signed. Why should people give up their homes for these new reactors, Mr. Ducrinus?"

"Excellent question. One year from now if those very same people didn't have power to cook, or listen to their radios, they would be crying, asking why we didn't build enough reactors to meet the energy demand in the slums."

Sarovoc Ducrinus, brother of Lucious Durcinus, the Emperor of Zenobia. Sarovoc was the President of Zenobia Prime, an umbrella corporation inside the framework of the Zenobian Government housing MiraTech, the corporation that controls all of Zenobia's energy supply. They are a big time technology powerhouse that is responsible for everything technologically advanced in Zenobia, and the majority of the continent.

"Shouldn't believe what you hear on the news."

Ana turned around, smiling. "Jin!"

Jin was her best friend, and ally in the resistance. He stood 5'9", a few inches taller than her. He had a lean build, brown eyes, and scruffy black hair coming down to his eyes. He wore a black and red leather coat, just like hers over a simple white shirt and jeans with scruffy white shoes. They both wore buttons and patches clipped onto and sown into the thick leather fabric. They were a variety of rebellious and anti-government slogans, resistance logos, a few Rebel Radio patches. On the back and shoulders, was a home-made crest hand woven into the fabric. It was their resistance patch, their symbol of freedom, and justice; a depiction of Zenobia's core, as seen from the reaches of the slums, and a white dove flying free in the sky around it.

"The others are waiting," he said, "let's not keep them."

She nodded, walking with him under the far peeks of Zenobia's core.
Introduction Part 1
Reflections From The Future


My name is Hans Venechenko. You don't know me, but you know our story. You know her legacy.

It's a story of love, hate, friendship, betrayal, courage, and sacrifice. All the hallmarks of a good story. It's about rebellion, men and women taking a stand to defend their land and people before there was nothing left to fight for. It's the journey of how one girl from the slums of Zenobia inspired the world to form a revolution, to take our freedom by force, although at a grave, and unforgettable cost.

This is her story, but it's my story too, and I'm about to share it with you.


Introduction Part 2
Desert Rose


Ana Maria Grace rolled over in her comfy bed of soft, warm, purple sheets in her cosy little room. She was sound asleep, dreaming of some better time and place, a land of innocence, love, and peace. Angelo slept comfortably beside her. He was her large, furry brown dog.  Her beautiful blonde hair rested over her forehead, covering her left eye. Her sparkling green eyes were shut as she slept the morning away against her fluffy purple pillow.

The buzzer inside of her old mechanical clock clang it's usual dull, metallic, insistent racket. New clocks had something called a chip that was made from data or something. Here in the slums of Zenobia, there was no fancy, fussy technology. Bikes that ride themselves, you just sit and stare at people passing by. Neat little boxes that show moving pictures; nothing so sophisticated.

The inner city was like something from a comic book or fiction novel. Some futuristic metropolis turning time like the inside of a clock. Late at night you can look out your bedroom window, peer north into the night sky, and see it's lights glowing, flashing and blinking like stars hung just above and below the horizon.

She opened her eyes quickly, smiling wide. She smacked the plated spring on the clock, silencing it for another twenty-four hours, and leapt from her bed, starting Angelo as she did so. He slowly got up off the bed, jumping to the hardwood floor with a surge of energy that would last for the next 12 hours.

"Can't come today, Angelo. I'm goin' to the inner districts," Ana said, leaning over in the doorway. She shut the door on him, and he tilted his head with a whimper.

She jogged down the stairs of her tiny home, running into the kitchen where her mother was sitting, reading the Zenobian Times over a cup of tea. It was a shabby little home nestle into a nook of Zenobia's slums, but it was cosy, warm, neat and welcoming.

"I made breakfast," her mother said lovingly, eyes fixed on the article still, no doubt retaining the words as she spoke to her daughter.

"Not hungry mom," Ana replied, kissing her on the cheek, heading for the door.

Ana's mother looked over her shoulder at her oldest daughter as she grabbed her coat from the rack. "Stay away from those left-wing, hooligan friends of yours!" her mother yelled out to her as she dashed out the door.

The streets of Zenobia were bustling that particular morning. Buildings, trees, structures and rooftops towered over power lines and into the sky. Bikes, strangely built cars and trucks filled the busy streets. Some were paved or stone, others were run down dirt roads, usually in a series of gritty backstreets networking the outermost corners and reaches of the slums.

Far beyond the cluttered, towering groupings of buildings, the massive structures and sky scrappers of the inner core of Zenobia loomed on the horizon like pillars of the heavens, watching over the poverty, despair and corruption that ensued every day amidst the outer slums.

OutlawTorn
Presents...​



Inspired by Squaresoft's Body of Work From 1987-1999
Created by Michael J. Saulnier (OutlawTorn)


Dedicated to Hironobu Sakaguchi,​ and Final Fantasy fans everywhere​
© 2007-2024
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