#branded charr

[brightwingedbat]

This was Graw Ragehammer. Once a loyal, dedicated and precious member of Commander Nastazya's Rage Warband who graduated fahrar with her.

He went MIA in 1320 AE, last seen fighting an army of new Branded while what was left of his warband could escape back to camp. They'd already lost two of seven, and he was the third. ... Or so everyone thought.

An unnaturally strong willpower, he tries what he can to prevent himself falling under Kralkatorrik's control, but even he's not stronger than a dragon and half of his body becomes crystallised.

His fur loses its lustre, his once bright orange eyes a crystalline purple. He refuses to let the dragon win, despite being a shell of his former self. But no branded nor charr would ever accept a monster with this form, he spends his days fighting and hiding. Striking down Kralkatorrik's minions wherever he can, and avoiding being in the firing line of the legions. As much of a curse this crystal body of his is, it nourishes him, lets him survive.

But...

Perhaps one day, many years after, he'll receive some semblance of relief. He'll always be half crystal, there's no changing that. (Early Icebrood Saga)

But at least he could have a pure crystal that's no longer trying to make him succumb to its control.

[a-charr-can-draw-too]

Partially perfected

[herald-of-aurene]

Tbh I kinda miss her flowers

[achromant]

My Poor Little Meow Meow, Baruhn, but corrupted by elder dragons.

[autumnalhalcyon]

finished the war eternal questline, and the fake-out Aurene death had me punching the air when the commander and what's her dick the crystal sylvari pulled out that last crystal from her "body"

[skaald-of-the-hearth-fires]

legit every single problem the charr have with Branded could have been avoided if Logan had stayed.

ofc Rytlock hates Logan's guts. half his headaches wouldn't even have turned up if the guy hadn't run off in the name of love.

flaming Branded won't let him forget about Logan-flaming-Thackeray, of COURSE Rytlock is so upset all the time.

[commanderhorncleaver]

Daggers? Daggers.

"Eventually... Eventually I'll get around to making Incinerator for him," I say, looking at his 8% map completion. I look at my scrapper's fifty-some percent. "Eventually."

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

Red VS Blue, but make it Guild Wars 2

ok so i'm going to try and make this au make sense if you look at it from either side without prior knowledge of the other but theyre both so entrenched in my brain im not sure how well it'll work if you get lost im sorry in advance- or you can just enjoy the group piece and ignore the insane rambles below the cut! fair warning: its a lot! my red team yapping showing up in full force!

Don't say I didn't warn you :3

Context:

GW2 is a fantasy setting MMORPG, set in the world of Tyria. There are 5 playable races with their own unique cultures and such. I'm using the wikis for the races bc im lazy- the names are links to the proper wiki, but i've VERY ROUGHLY summarized for ease-

ASURA: The smallest playable race, Asura are highly intelligent and have a cultural focus on Academia and Research- furthering the reach of their magi-tech, sometimes at the cost of morals. Asura tend to be characterized as cocky intellectuals, who know more than everyone else in the room at any given time and they know it- but they're going to have a solution to a problem before you've finished explaining it.

CHARR: Giant anthropomorphic cats, the Charr are a militaristic race with a culturally cynical look on the world and a stubborn streak to match, and a general distrust of magic due to some Prior Circumstances. Charr tend to be characterized as gruff, fuck-around-and-find-out types, due to the military culture, and have more focus on their squad (warband) over individual relations.

HUMAN: On the surface, pretty par for the course here, but humans aren't actually native to Tyria- not that this stops them from being a cultural and territorial powerhouse in the setting. There is a fair bit of tension between humans and charr, and humans and some of the non-playable races in the game. Humans tend to be characterized as stubborn, tenacious and resourceful in a Tyrian context.

NORN: visually speaking, Norn appear to be giant humans, native to Tyria. Culturally speaking, Norn value honor and nature in equal measure- you should make a Legend for yourself, but you need to respect the Spirits of the Wild. Typically, norn are characterized as loud and boisterous, but reliable in a fight and always down to celebrate an impressive victory and share a story.

SYLVARI: The youngest race in Tyria, having only existed for about 25 years or so at the start of the game, Sylvari are plantfolk who Awaken from their mutually shared Dream as grown adults. The Dream gives sylvari the knowledge they need to function right out the gate, although the actual extent of said knowledge varies slightly by individuals, and is tended to by The Pale Tree (or the Pale Mother/Mother Tree, as sylvari know her)- sylvari follow a set of tenants given to them in the Dream that encourage compassion, kindness, and a drive to do what must be done called a Wyld Hunt.

__--__

RvB is a Halo machinima set in an appropriately sci-fi setting that is, above all else, fucking ridiculous. The plot, when it manages to exists in a semi-coherent fashion, focuses almost entirely on a band of absolute asshole idiots who cheat death as a hobby, swear a lot, and generally just would be unpleasant people to know but it is incredibly entertaining to put them into situations so that sums up the general vibe of the show. RvB is slightly less relevant to this au as the characters are what I'm yoinking and theyre all getting explained in their gw2 contexts here, but the main point is: the show is silly, and everyone in it is some brand of annoying, rude, mean, stupid or any combination there of. Also? Probably traumatized by war, whether or not they realize it. __--__

BORING STUFF OUT OF THE WAY ITS CHARACTER TIME __--__

THE GULCH KREWE - An Asura research team focused on making self sustaining golems. Technically Vic is the krewe lead, but he never seems to show up at their lab situated in the middle of no where for.... safety reasons. The official, documented by the asuran governement Gulch krewe is really incredibly small, at four asura strong, counting Vic even though there is quite a bit of debate on whether he actually counts since he's never around, but they have a reputation for being the worst krewe to work with. Ever. Of all time. Between reports of "unsafe necromantic practices" and general "workplace threats and harrassment", the only people who stay in the Gulch krewe have no where else to go. The "rank" nickname theme started mostly as a joke, but once it was started it was basically impossible to stop.

"Captain" Bucch Flowers - Asuran Necromancer - Asura, typically, do not have last names. Bucch, is not known for being the typical sort of asura. Eccentric and regarded as "morally questionable" by previous krewes, Bucch is a friendly individual who finds other people fascinating, both in terms of their psychology and physiology. He always has a smile on his face and a warm, cheerful demeanor that some people have claimed to be "unsettling", but I mean, really, he's just being nice. Right?

"Sarge" REDACTED - Asuran Engineer - Sarge took to his nickname with a brand of enthusiasm that really was just a warning to the kind of person he is, going so far as to have his previous name removed or changed on all documents he could. Loud, brash and unapologetic in everything he does, Sarge is the main "threat" of the Gulch Krewe between his wild experimental inventions, with their tendency to either go rogue against their creator or just plain blow up, his complete and utter lack of patience, and his habit of gesturing with his loaded shotgun during a conversation. His volume never drops below LOUD, but he's a very.. unique brand of genius who excels at making things that really shouldn't be physically possible work.

"Doc" Dufresne - Asuran Mesmer - Doc is, by all counts, the odd one out of the official Gulch krewe. Meek and empathetic in nature, Doc tends to be the moral voice of the krewe- one that often gets ignored. He is still annoyed by his ridiculous nickname, even if it is nice to have the affirmation that he really is part of the krewe. He's not even really a doctor! He's not great with medical care or technology. Or fighting. Or much of anything, if he lets himself be a little too honest. But he's part of the krewe, for better or for worse, and if that just means he uses his magic to pull his krewmates away from whatever is trying to murder them this week, then so be it.

The UNOFFICIAL Gulch krewe is a bit more.. diverse. Technically, non-asura don't get listed as krewe on the paperwork. They're hired help, not technically part of the team that gets credited for the work done in the published papers. Generally, this is because most hired hands don't have that much to do with the actual invention or research process- they're just there to be damage control when things go wrong. However with the Gulch krewe... a lot of things tend to go wrong. Technically speaking, there is no reason for a krewe of four three to have separate research teams. There is barely a reason for bigger krewes to do it. However... Captain Flowers and Sarge rarely seem to work on the 'technical' level of anything, and all it took was one offhanded comment from Vic (over comm, no less! couldn't even cause problems in person) for the pair of them to escalate and devolve into a rivalry that would ruin Doc's life, and the lives of pretty much everyone else who inevitably get swept up into it as well.

RED TEAM: Sarge claimed RED as his team color well before the idea of having color-coordination even occurred to Captain Flowers. Sarge claims he hired only the best to staff Red Team, with one exception for canon fodder.

Richard "Dick" Simmons - Human Elementalist - Born and raised in the upper ranks of human nobility, Simmons is a bit of a fish out of water when he's not in the human capital of Divinity's Reach. Of course, being an anxious individual with poor social skills, he didn't really fit in there either. He's got enough of the "I'm rich, you know," attitude held over from his upbringing that combined with a desire for praise, awkward conversation skills and the urge to prove his worth through his own intelligence, makes for a really obnoxious, know-it-all kissass of a man. But he's really good with technology, given his magic tends to prefer the buzz of electricity so that counts for something. Usually. He's not that bad once you get past the defensive nature and whiny voice. Probably?

Dexter Grif - Norn Warrior - With a hard earned feeling of "fuck it, fuck that, fuck this, I'm going to bed" that he trained into himself, Dex would have been perfectly content to spend his entire life lazing around his home city, Lion's Arch, scamming tourists and generally just kind of doing his own lazy thing. Or, at least, that's what he tells himself, as he has to look for actual work on the docks. It sucks. So when some loud mouth asura rocks up, shouting something Dex didn't really listen to beyond being a job, and a supposedly low effort one? Sign him the fuck up. But when the job is evidently not all naps and bored asura-watching, Dexter Grif will make his complaints known. Just... maybe not in range of Sarge's shotgun.

Donut - Sylvari Mesmer - Freshly Awakened, bright eyed, curious and endlessly talkative, Donut (Grif swears that can't be his real name, right?) is the Red team's resident socialite, sharpshooter, grenadier, portal expert and color coordinator. If you need something done, Donut is your man, or he can find you your man. While some people find his chipper attitude and love of 'dressing up' his friends with illusions annoying, and his tendency to veer into innuendos a bit awkward, everyone agrees it's hard to genuinely dislike Donut as a person. Maybe it's a mesmer thing, maybe it's a sylvari thing, maybe it's just Donut being Donut, it's hard to say. Despite his impeccable aim and frankly impressive throwing arm, Donut tends to be a little oblivious to the things right in front of him, but he's trying his best so most people tend to let it slide.

BLUE TEAM: Captain Flowers accepted BLUE as his team's color in good humor, as he tends to accept most things. He was not nearly as intense on his "requirements" for his team as Sarge- truthfully, most of Blue team were picked because Captain Flowers thought they were interesting more than anything to do with their actual skills.

Kaikaina Grif - Norn Elementalist - Kai has been called a lot of things, and not all of them flattering. Her personal favorites include sexy, wild, bodacious and "absolutely insane". She's a diverse gal. When her brother left Lion's Arch to go work for some mysterious asura in the middle of no where, Kai swore she didn't care. That lasted for all of a week, before she decided Dex was clearly up to something else and the asura job was a cover. Upon hunting her brother down and discovering, no really, it's literally what he said it was, she was disappointed. At least, until Captain Flowers offered her a position on Blue team. Being paid to stand around, look pretty, and bother her brother? Fuck. Yes.

Lavernius Tucker - Human Guardian - Growing up an orphan in Divinity's Reach makes a guy either really cruel or really clever. Tucker's never been the cruel type, so he went for clever instead. Though that quickly turned around to bite him in the ass, because being clever, and maybe a little bit of a smartass, means people notice you, and being noticed does not go well for him. Between at least one cult insisting he was some kind of savior from a forgotten bloodline, a jerk or three who didn't like Tucker outsmarting them or standing up for the people they were bullying, and whatever the hell is going on with his kid (courtesy of aforementioned cult), Tucker has more than had his fill of being noticed for being clever thank you very much. He just wants to find a quiet place to lay low and figure out this whole being a dad to a dragon thing. He's done being a hero and honestly he's done being helpful. Tucker's here to get paid, maybe get laid, and not get attached to anyone else that might screw him (or his kid) over.

Junior - Saltspray Dragon - Sort of a package deal with his dad, Junior is still figuring out the quirks and details of being a dragon in a society where 'dragon' is usually associated with the end of times, even for a "lesser" dragon like him. Fortunately, they're pretty solidly hidden in the middle of nowhere, so the only people around are friends of his dad's. Sort of. Junior is shy, generally, and tries to be careful with his size and his magic, but he's still a hatchling and sometimes it's real easy to get carried away when he's excited. Good news though! The Gulch krewe are well versed in shit breaking every other day, so no one gets too mad if something gets knocked off the shelf by his wings.

Church - Sylvari Thief - Some sylvari chose to cut themselves off from the Dream, in an effort to obtain either a sense of freedom from expectations, spite, or just a general desire for peace, quiet and solitude. While Church can certainly guess at his own, personal, reasons for becoming one of the Soundless, he sure as hell doesn't remember making the decision. Or much of anything, really, before about a week before he got hired onto Blue team. Just the name Church, which he can only assume is his name. He tells himself, amongst his internal tirades about his woes and his miseries, that Flowers hired him because he's smart and clearly the asura could see that. Not pity or anything like that. Still, it would be nice to actually remember literally anything. But Church doesn't complain about that- he's got more than enough things to bitch about from being part of the Blue team to distract his ego, his temper and his generally whiny attitude towards life in general. Who needs a past when you're surrounded by idiots?

Michael J Caboose - Norn Ranger- Never without his trusty arctodus companion, Freckles, Caboose is a joyful wall of muscle and hugs that frequently forgets that most people cannot, in fact, support the weight of him and his wolf-bear. Young and with no legend to speak of, Caboose is on a journey of his own making, to find friends that are just... so cool, everyone is going to want to hear stories about them! He just has the very very tricky job of remembering those stories. But hey, what are friends for, if not to help him when he forget a detail or twelve? And honestly, he thinks he found a GREAT group of friends here on Blue team. Sure they can be a little bit mean, but, Caboose has the heart of a skald according to the nice old ladies back home in Hoelbrak, and his heart knows when there's neat things

THE GOLEMS: The Gulch Krewe, official and unofficial, developed two more-or-less completely self-sustaining golems after splitting into their respective teams. They're not perfect, by any means, but they're certainly impressive to behold. Especially given that they both seem to be... well, people. That.. wasn't intentional.

Lopez - "Human" Engineer - Inspired by the dolls made by Tixx in the Infinirarium, Sarge chose to build a golem that looks almost human. His official logic claims that the more flexible build and increased intelligence allows for Lopez (Officially: L-0-PEZ - Lab-OH-Personalized Engineering Zoner. Sarge swears it makes sense. Red team is pretty sure he just made it up because he liked the name Lopez) to handle his own maintenance and upkeep, with improved head to body communication and modular independencies. The side effect of Lopez's "self repairing" abilities (read: his ability to take himself apart to put himself back together) is the fact that his body have very distinct seams, and he's prone to falling apart at them. His head coming off his neck is the worst and most common offender of this problem. Like most of Sarge's intelligent creations, Lopez has a sour attitude and very little respect for his creator. If you asked him, the only reason he sticks around is because it's easier to get his hands on the tools he needs to fix himself. That and no one else speaks Orrian since the continent and kingdom sank over 250 years ago. Well, no one besides Sheila.

Sheila - "Charr" Necromancer - Captain Flowers took a slightly more.. macabre approach to his golem creation. Made from the ethically and responsibly sourced bones of an anonymous charr donor (Captain Flowers's words), Sheila is a feat of magi-tech engineering and necromancy. Due to her... organic internal base, Sheila is much sturdier than your average golem for her size, and the necrotic magic that keeps her together and functioning needs almost no supervision, as it naturally drains minute fractions of life force from things around her, like non-sentient plants and insects. Though there are some... quirks, to be certain, but that's to be expected with such experimental magic! The days where she almost seems like a different person are most likely just her getting used to a shift in the magic, that's all. Nothing to worry about. Usually though, on her good days, Sheila is calm and patient, with a friendly attitude she seemed to pick up from Flowers, although somehow she's a bit better at reading a room than he is. She tends to be the most responsible and level head in the lab, which is fortunate considering she's also the biggest one there, excluding Freckles.

__--__

THE LANCER WARBAND: A tight knit charr warband, working outside of the charr legions mostly for decent pay and interesting jobs, the Lancer warband are skilled fighters, excellent hunters and all around impressive soldiers. Their one weakness? Their inability to get anything done without either a fight or fair bit of chatter (and the occasional argument leading to the fights) first. But once they've settled on an objective, they're nigh unstoppable.

York - Charr Engineer - By far the most laid back and easy going of the Lancer warband, York is the resident gunsmith, philosopher, mechanic and lockpick. If it requires nimble fingers (or claws, rather), York's got it covered. While he tends to be the chattiest of the bunch and that makes him seem distractable, York is often laser focused on his task- he just doesn't feel the need to act like he's focused. He's curious and honest in nature, and is always quick to come up with a joke to lighten a heavy mood.

Maine - Charr Warrior - Silent and deadly are the words most commonly used to describe Maine- not that they would ever come from him. Massive even by charr standards, Maine is brutal and efficient in a fight. By the time an enemy has seen his white fur, they're already screwed. Outside of combat, when it's just the warband, Maine still isn't a talkative sort of guy. He prefers to stand back and let the rest of them talk for him, with a few exceptions.

Washington - Charr 'Thief' (unrealized revenant) - Originally the 'cub' and rookie of the Lancer warband, Wash has earned his stripes as it were for his cunning adaptability on the field and his almost ridiculous good luck when it comes to survival. While he tries to be kind and compassionate when he can, he's more on the pragmatic side than he used to be, and he can't always balance being nice with being realistic. Still, Wash has a sarcastic streak big enough to give York a run for his money, and enough sharp wit and sharper knives to keep just about anyone else on their toes.

Texas - Charr Warrior - A bit of a badass, Tex is the Lancer warband legionnaire and easily the best fighter of them all. She's harsh, even to her own warband, but she cares more than she likes to let on. However, her temper tends to get the best of her, and she frequently works alone to blow off steam. The last time she left... she didn't come back.

South - Charr Necromancer - One of the twins, South is aggressive, impatient and vicious just as much as she is efficient with her magic. She's a survivor and despite her bitchy attitude and general disregard for the rest of her warband, she gets shit done. Maybe a little meaner about it than she needs to be but hey, it's done right? Who cares if a little more blood was spilled or if a few more punches were thrown than were strictly necessary.

North - Charr Guardian - The other twin, North couldn’t be more different from his sister. He’s gentle, understanding and tries to be a shoulder to lean on for anyone who needs it, not just their bandmates. Granted, sometimes this does get him punched, but his kind nature doesn’t stop him from giving as good as he gets. He’s a skilled marksman with a longbow, and his calm nature helps him keep a level head in a fight- useful, when you specialize in placing traps.

'Honorary' warband: When their Legionnaire, Tex, mysteriously vanishes, the Lancer warband is left fumbling in the wake. Fortunately, they have friends they can trust to help them get their bearings.

Carolina - Human 'Warrior' (unrealized Revenant) - not the step dad but the dad who stepped up Carolina has been a fighter and a soldier her whole life, or very damn near it. While not raised to quite the same degree of military as the average charr, her mother ran a tight ship of their home and after her passing, her father ran it even tighter. Her friendship with the Lancer warband started with a night of mildly drunken chaos with York, after which she kept in close contact with the charr. Intense in every factor, loyal, and more than a little competitive, Carolina thrives in combat situations that demand the most of her, which makes her a fast friend for the rowdy warband. Without Tex, the Lancer warband needed a leader, and Carolina stepped into the role of unofficial legionnaire as easily as donning her helmet. While comparisons between herself and Texas make her uneasy, she does admit she likes the feeling of being 'Boss' with the charr.

Reggi "Wyoming" - Asuran Mesmer - Reggi is a bit of an odd ball and a loner before he begins spending time with the Lancer warband. He enjoys a good pun and a bad knock-knock joke, but his disinterest in most scientific endeavors left him with little opportunities within asura society. So he left, took his humor and not much else with him, and has been something of a drifter ever since, more interested in taking care of himself above all else. While the Lancer warband may groan and scoff at him from time to time, they do work well with him, and even a selfish bastard like him needs back up from time to time.

[ilona-art]

Wanted to try a charr in the same style as my latest experiments before opening possible commissions for these. I went with my brand new charr Arminus Copperhorn who I created about 2 days ago.

[commander-gloryforge]

okay. so nona, right. out of all of my commanders, i think she was the least interested in becoming a commander at first. her life has always revolved around the legions, around charr, around ash. the thought of anything existing outside of that was just a waste of time to her.

why would she have to deal with risen, or any of that weird dragon stuff, when orr was so far away, and aside from the brand, she’d practically been unaffected by the existence of the dragons all her life? why couldn’t other people just take care of all that?

it takes a while for her to realise that flame and ghosts aren’t charr kinds only problems, that her small part of a salon that she calls home is ultimately affected by what else is going on in tyria.

it takes even longer for her to understand that someone has to step up into the role of “the other”, and that that someone has to be her.

i still gotta play around with her personality and her views and see how she ends up developing but i like the thought of her doubting her positing as the commander because she feels like she’s not made to lead. all she learned growing up was to follow and be commanded without giving much thought ight to it. she doesn’t trust herself with the decision making and power she receives.

[bigsnaff]

She's just born, and her cries are shadowed only by that of her dam's screams. She's a large cub, too large, and the dam is cut open for the cub to be plucked out when her head won't fit through. It's a shoddy, quick operation, and Oucca Ironsights is sewn up with half a bottle of whiskey poured over her wounds. She lives long enough through the night to hold and name her cub before the Mists take the her.

She's twenty-four when she experiences her second loss. The serrated crystal spines shear through her younger half-brother's gut and bright red blood sprays out against the electric purple. A roar breaks from her throat and her fist rockets upward. Her hand and wrist shatters and so does the Branded. She and many others forgo their Sentinel duties.

She's twenty-five when she experiences her third loss. Howl the Brazen triumphantly tosses his blade up and down in his hand after the fading ectoplasm of an Ascalonian ghost floats down to the stone steps. Then the roof comes down on him. His broken body goes stiff and then goes limp again as a week passes and he's finally dragged out from the rubble. She saws off one of the horns to keep and never forgets.

Her sire dies a week later from unrelated injuries, and it's just another footnote for the history books.

She's still twenty-five when the fifth rolls around. Her arm is grasped within that of another, a silent plea between the both of them. A string of chain with a dog tag at the end, emblazoned with the Crystal warband's symbol, is twisted between her claws. She doesn't get a chance to ask her question before the other charr turns away and the gate booms shut behind him.

She's twenty-eight, and the needles and thistles rake down her arm, glistening red from the superficial cuts. Trahearne clasps her hand in both of his and his golden tears seep through her. A cry is wrought, neither from her, nor him, but the enemy, and Caladbolg cleaves the both of them in two.

She is thirty-two, and her raptor traipses through the Mists where two guiding voices pierce the wind and Blish's voice crackles static through her communicator. Glint beckons her onward, but she looks back and makes her plea as before a judge and jury. The scales tip away from her, and she flees, the voices fading.

It's later that same year that she kneels before the paltry memorial of what could've been a shattered reflection. She takes the General's blade in her hand and she swears retribution not for the last time.

She's thirty-six, body weak and atrophied from a year of slumber. She soaks in the warmth of the light of the final and first Elder Dragon through her fur, a deep rumble in her chest and claws that trace along the glistening scales in order to memorize them. They stand together unburdened for the last time, and Cyna Crystalclaw hears her mother's voice again.

[a-charr-can-draw-too]

Karzah Shatterfang meets Sam Hopetearer 2018 v 2023 sketch

[mistfallengw2]

Speaking of name pronunciations, what better time to share one of my headcanons!

Tyrian is canonically the "common language" in Tyria, and that it's derived from human languages. For us it's just English (with all its variations), be it because that's what the actual language sounds like or because it's the translation we get while playing the game.

Now, my headcanon is that the ancestral languages of both asura and charr are closer to Romance/Indo-European languages than English, as we see strong influences of Greek and Latin in their naming schemes for people, places and things.

Charr are the most obvious, being partially based on the Romans and the fact they use a ton of Latin and Greek in both their names (Crecia coming from Lucretia, Galina coming from Galene, etc), titles (primus, centurion, etc) and their locations (castrum, templum, forum, etc). One thing that stands out is that Flame Legion in particular seems to use the "old words" a lot more often, and that makes me believe it's something "traditional" for charr.

Asura are a bit less evident, but still they don't go more than a few sentences without using Greek/Latin-based words, usually to indicate scientific things and places, which likely means they've been using it for a long time already. While their own names are random sounds for the most part, they often name things using the derived words or the binomial nomenclature directly (ie: the Dominus Crystallum that was a named branded lieutenant held in Rata Primus as specimen).

Now, the pronunciations in the game are all anglicized, and I headcanon it as the common language altering the pronunciation of words coming from other languages over time, and names are also often spelled weirdly because of that. Many new generations probably never learned how to correctly pronounce things, but still I like to think that part of each population still keeps alive the old languages, be it through linguistic studies and tradition or the existence of certain dialects and accents that remained closer to the old pronunciations.

[achromant]

Peace: Commission for pixy <3

[spiribia]

i know they discontinued individual legendary weapon narrative collections because it's too much effort for content that most players won't even experience, & redirected that effort into more generally accessible weapon collection questlines, like caladbolgs restoration. i totally get that, but i kind of wish the aurene legendaries could have some kind of narrative collection to them, at least the first time you craft one, since they all follow the same theme anyway & so youd only have to make one and theres a much broader chance of players experiencing it. one of the rough ideas i was kicking around was a crystal bloom that accidentally got caught in one of aurene's branding blasts, to aurene's horror, & this young charr (ex-iron legion blacksmith) is not good with words and verbalized poetic sentiments so she asks you to help make a weapon instead that will demonstrate to aurene that she understands both the deadly responsibility of wielding aurene's magic but also the potential to do good with it.

[i-mybrunettelady]

commander week day 2 - profession

guardians ahoy. set pre-PS & during later part of season 4. commander: alysannyra ainsaph.

“Hands down, Ainsaph! I repeat, put your hands to the ground and don’t raise them until the light goes out!” 

Nyra almost doesn’t hear it. The wild rush of magic buzzes in her ears, in her bloodstream, lights her up from the inside like nothing else. She can only catch a breath when she feels the grass of the training grounds beneath her fingers. 

“Magic,” she breathes, staring at the way light bursts out of her hands and onto the grass. “Magic!” Tips of the grass fall off, as if cut, and she laughs aloud. “I have magic!” 

Logan Thackeray crouches beside her and puts a sack over her hands. “You do, and you will blind someone if you’re not careful. Maintain your focus on stopping it so we can move from here. Ainsaph?” 

She grins brightly and says, mid-laugh, “This is guardian magic, yeah?” She knows her magical lessons.

Logan’s brow furrows. “Yes. And you will learn to focus, or you will end up hurting someone.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” She keeps grinning and wiggles her fingers beneath the sac. “Gods, I am a guardian now!”

She’s 15 years old. 

A decade later, Nyra’s standing before a gathered crowd of Corsairs, Pact soldiers, Olmakhan, Legions, dwarves, and many more who joined in on her quest to slay Kralkatorrik. She feels at ease with all these eyes on her. Her home is at the helm of the world, in a suit of armor, leading the charge. Thunderhead Keep rises above her in its historicity; who knows how many souls have passed here before her? 

None quite like her, she’s certain. 

“Do we have any guardians here? Any lightshapers?” Nyra asks. Her voice booms in the room; Rytlock catches her eye and nods approvingly. “You aren’t a guardian, Brimstone. But you’ll do great as my sparring partner for this exercise, but only after I’m certain we have any I can pass the knowledge to!”

A chorus of voices rises. Nyra doesn’t catch individual faces, but she catches the confirmation. Rytlock stands up from where he’s sitting beside Logan and Aurene and leans to whisper something in her ear. Aurene makes a noise that Nyra knows means she’s amused. 

Caithe seems to think so as well, arms folded over chest as she watches Aurene with a soft smile. Nyra hasn’t quite forgiven Caithe, but she knows she means well for Aurene. That is enough for now. 

Rytlock gets on the impromptu sparring ring. “Whatcha need, boss? I’m not your dummy so you can just hit ‘till your arms are falling off.” 

“I don’t need you to be,” Nyra shrugs. “I like my dummies when they fight back.”

“Mm, gotcha. I can use some stretching myself.” He straightens to his full height, much taller than she’ll ever be, and stretches his neck. He walks over to get a sword and tosses her one as well. It clinks on the floor until it hits the toes of her boots. 

“Stretch away, old guy. In the meantime, guardians, and especially my lightshapers, I’ll need your eyes trained on me. I don’t know necromancy, or how to soul snatch an animal, but I sure know a thing or two about our type of magic.” She pauses and looks at the crowd. “And I want the Branded to feel it.”

Rytlock turns with a toothful, charr-like smile. “Show them how it’s done, Nyra.” 

She doesn’t need to be told twice.