I did my first Provenance Watcher tonight. I had never been up there before (besides the cut scenes with those devil-cats and weird moogle) so I was quite excited.
We gathered at 6pm. By 8pm, we had finally filled up the alliance by shouting, after begging specifically for a war for several minutes and getting countless tells of "I'm dnc and whm and bst, can I come?"
We took ages to get there-- some of us retraced, VW warped to Pashhow Marshlands (S), and ran. Some of us used recall-pash. Some of us stayed in Jeuno, and when our whm decided to finally drop and go get us, we warped to PW as the whm was warping to Jeuno. Finally, we were all gathered around!
We entered the first battle and killed Pil first, then Pil's evil twin. We entered the second battle and killed whatever was in there, which I have already forgotten. We entered the third battle, fought the wrong one first, the tank holding the other got hate-blocked, there was much death and hilarity ensued. Our ranger threw a temper tantrum and left mid-fight, our ninja couldn't stay because we'd started two hours late because half the ls didn't show up and none of Jeuno wanted anything to do with a random fill-up box for PW.
We took another hour finding replacements for the two that had left and getting them out to PW. Understanding that we didn't want to fight all three mini-battles again, the two replacements kindly got their own KIs.
We entered the last mini-battle. One of our men forgot to refresh his moogle-stones. We stood inside twitching with nervous energy while he ran out to the Walk of Echoes to refresh his stones. Once we were finally all assembled, we fought the last mini-battle once more. Some of us died for the cause. Some of us didn't listen when the alli was bellowing at them that the mobs had switched places and therefore they needed to switch which mob they are fighting. Our tank holder got splattered. But in the end, we prevailed! We wiped the floor with their faces and exited to fight the beautiful crystalline dragon, Provenance Watcher.
We explained four times that everyone needed three cut scenes-- two with devil-cats and one at the crystal. We fidgeted for five minutes while waiting on weakened timers. Finally, at slightly after 10pm, we were nearly ready! Our leader set a specific battle plan-- blms figure a stun rotation, corsairs put up rolls, DDs hold the rolls on the exit, bards do a bard rotation, sch number 1 put up embrava, and, when embrava went down, sch number 2 would re-apply it.
An over-eager member entered the crystal immediately upon hearing these detailed instructions. Oh no! We don't even know if everyone is at their keyboard! We cried, but we entered the fight. There was a flurry of confusion while we sorted out who would get booted from parties to allow bards in. Sch number 1 popped embrava. Sch number 2 popped embrava. The blms had neglected to set up macros for their stuns, so no one knew where we were in the rotation at any given time.
There was much splattering to be had that day. Many died for the cause, and the ethereal white paws of Provenance Watcher were stained red with the blood of blms whom he had drawn in and murdered. No hints were given for staggers, and no temporary items were refreshed. It seemed hopeless!
Ah, but we had a plan! A desperate last-chance gamble to make the last four hours worth it-- we had corsairs. The plan was a success! The corsair renewed the two hours of the schs, and we could once again have a dear embrava!
Our resolve renewed, we set out once again to defeat the might Provenance Watcher. He had up two fetters. NUKE FATTERS! Shrieked a bossy sch. Fatters? We wondered. Why, but our figures were slim and trim! We nuked that fatter, but Provenance Watcher was a clever old man, and he took advantage of our nuking and confusion over who on earth's turn it was in the stun rotation, and he murdered our DDs and pulled out another fetter. NUKE! Shrieked the sch. So we nuked, and nuke hard we did, but it was a melee fetter and our strongest and most mp-wasting fireballs did but a scant 0 points of damage.
We fell that day, under the white dragon claw stained red, so it looked suspiciously like strawberry milk. One of our members admitted to having gone to lunch while we fought. Our leaders growled and hissed. There were accusations and finger-pointing, there was debate and debacle.
We timed out and fell dead at the feet of another linkshell, who was no doubt filled with glee and courage at the sound of our dying groans as we fell.
Ah, beautiful, majestic, pristine yet bloody Provenance Watcher-- I think I hate you.