#duke barradin

[skaald-of-the-hearth-fires]

DoF:RefTE chapter 5 - Throwing Fire

Dreams of Freedom: Reforging the Edge

Chapter five: Throwing Fire | (AO3 link)

Across the Shiverpeak Mountains, in the once-human land of Ascalon, Tribune Rytlock Brimstone lashes his tail impatiently. He has only half the force he needs to take on the ghost of the human Duke Barradin - and half of the force he has isn't even Blood Legion. “Where’s Centurion Krysknife?” Rytlock rumbles to the charr behind him.

The soldiers shift nervously on their feet, claws clicking on stone, and avoid his eyes. Several of them have twitching ears. The highest-ranking charr - a Blood captain - mumbles, “I don’t know, Tribune.”

“What’s that, soldier?” Rytlock demands.

The captain clears his throat. “I said, I don’t know, Tribune.”

Rytlock snarls to himself and turns his back, glancing quickly over the non-Blood troops as he does so. Quite aside from the additional troops under Centurion Krysknife’s command, and regardless of the fact that Rytlock outranks him, things will run more smoothly if the Iron soldiers have an Iron leader to look to. And having a guardian on the team, at that.

Rytlock hates waiting on guardians. Reminds him of Logan. His replacement Blood Legion pendant shifts in his fur. Rytlock wants to claw it out and throw it away. But he doesn't, and instead turnes to glower through the archway into Barradin's chamber.

At the far end, the chamber contains a coffin, topped by a grandiose statue in the prideful human style. The room is shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the sickly-blue glow of the Ascalonian ghosts. No telling how many, of course - the bloody things prefer staying hidden, unformed trailings of mist drifting about.

The underground crypt is getting on Rytlock’s nerves, and waiting had never been his strong suit - he thirsts for Barradin’s blood... metaphorically, of course. Stupid ghosts don’t even bleed right. Barradin and his ghost army had been sieging the Black Citadel for weeks, in enough numbers that they can’t be killed quickly enough to matter, and Rytlock is about fed up with fighting off enemies that come back a few days later. Defeating Barradin himself will, hopefully at least, cause the other ghosts to scatter.

A surge of ephemeral pain that is beyond the physical shoots through him, and he clutches at his chest in pain, claws passing through a transparent blue blade. Rytlock roars and spins around, ripping his own sword out of its stone sheath. Fiery blade in his claws, Rytlock slashes repeatedly at the human ghost until it disintegrates, then angrily slams the flaming sword back into its sheath.

Not even Sohothin kills the Ascalonian ghosts easily, and it is brother to the sword that created them in the first place!

More ghosts spring up, and the rest of his soldiers spread out to tackle them as more periodically materialize out of thin air - probably reforming from the last time they’d been killed a few days ago. What a blight on Ascalon… !

Rytlock slashes through the ghosts angrily. His soldiers fall back and let him take the killshot on each ethereal foe. Although each ghost has a different reform timer, killing them with sohothin does cause them to take longer to reform. A day instead of a few hours, a week instead of a few days. That's a hint right there that Sohothin is linked to its brother-sword somehow, and to the curse of the Ascalonian ghosts.

Half-a-dozen charr die in the battle, but when the ghosts are cleared, there is still no sign of Centurion Krysknife. Rytlock is about ready to charge Barradin’s tomb, reinforcements or no reinforcements. They’re losing soldiers by the minute in this siege, soldiers that Black Citadel leadership - including, no, especially Rytlock - can’t afford to lose.

He fumes for a minute in silence. The ghosts don’t threaten Ascalon themselves - the charr had defeated the humans once already. But the charr fight on other battlefields, too - the minions of an Elder Dragon have been only too eager to overcome steadily weakening defenses. This - none of this would even be an issue if Logan had stayed. The brass had been keeping it from the soldiers, but Ascalon doesn't have much time left. A solution to at least one of the three major threats to the Legions has to be found, and soon. Preferably the ghosts - they're the most annoying and least beneficial to kkill. A permananet solution would be... lovely. 'Till then, temporary solutions are the best to be had.

That’s why he, a Blood Legion Tribune and the feared wielder of Sohothin, is leading this mission to put a stop to this siege, and not Centurion Krysknife, who apparently wasn’t going to show up anyway -

Just then, the sound of many claws clicking on stone reverberates throughout the crypt. Rytlock doesn’t wait for them to arrive and starts speaking immediately.

“Fall in, soldiers! It’s time to remind these ghosts who’s in charge.” Rytlock is about to go on, when the newcomers - a mix of the three Legions but predominantly Blood - round the corner. They are led, not by Krysknife, but by another Iron Legion soldier, a well-armored charr with rust-colored fur and a big bulky backpack probably filled with odds and ends of machinery. No evidence of him being a guardian. Scorch it. Rytlock nearly snaps at him to ask where Krysknife is, but it isn’t relevant. This Iron soldier is in the lead of Krysknife’s forces - if Krysknife couldn’t come, he couldn’t come. He continues, “we’re going to hit Barradin so hard it’ll take him weeks to reappear! Move out!”

Fuming, Rytlock leads the way into the last chamber. As the troops separate into their warbands, that Iron soldier remains alone. He doesn’t have a warband. Krysknife had sent him a bloody gladium. A gladium to lead his warbands! Well, no - Rytlock would have to lead Krysknife’s command, on top of the others. He snarls. He’d asked for a qualified Centurion for a reason!

…but at least, Rytlock muses, pulling out his pistol and aiming for the ghosts that are charging his position, at least Krysknife sent someone, and at least that someone came. The loyalty of a charr is hard to break. Not fickle like certain humans he could name. He resentfully unloads a few rounds from his pistol into one of the ghosts, picturing it with the face of Logan Thackeray.

Now that's satisfying. The ghosts blindly charge his position, and Rytlock gladly engages them, slashing wildly with fiery Sohothin, tearing them apart, picturing each one with Logan's face. He'd destroyed any hope Destiny's Edge had of killing the Elder Dragon. He's the reason for the force of dragon minions embedded within Ascalon. He'd betrayed Rytlock's trust... Rytlock had given him his Blood pendant, and he deserted!

Rytlock slashes through the ghosts mercilessly. His allies give his flaming sword a wide berth.

A new wave of ghosts appears, and Rytlock shouts to the soldiers behind him, “dig in and stand fast!” The charr spread apart in a line, waiting for the ghosts to come to them. There’s the Iron gladium on the end of the line, wielding a flamethrower, scorching the ghosts as they approach him. He seems to be holding his own, so Rytlock ignores him and fires more pistol rounds into the ghosts as they charge, switching to Sohothin as they get inside the flaming sword’s range. A few hot minutes later, the ghost onslaught fades and, finally, ceases.

For a moment, all is still. Rytlock breaks the formation and strides toward the statue.

Immediately, more ghosts coalesce out of nowhere.

“Rally to me!” Rytlock roars, now charging, slashing with Sohothin. “Cut them down, stomp them flat.” The line of charr breaks and surges forward, ramming into the ghosts and tearing them apart. They converge on Rytlock and the loose collection of warbands face off against the ghosts as the incorporeal forms flood around and surround them.

Rytlock finds himself fighting side-by-side with the Iron gladium. He is a blur of rust-colored fur and flames. Rytlock can’t help but approve, grudgingly, of the gladium’s choice of weapon. Most charr would avoid fire as a matter of course, but this one had embraced it. Rytlock’s own Sohothin is looked at in fear and awe by other charr (something Rytlock quite enjoys), but this one joins him fearlessly.

The last wave of ghosts is defeated, but the respite is brief; Rytlock grins in satisfaction as the form of Duke Barradin coalesces in the center of the chamber, ringed by ghostly attendants and guards. Barradin roars, his voice distorted by ethereal matter; “filthy animals! You will regret this!”

Rytlock doesn’t need to repeat his orders; the charr surge forward, some bounding on all fours, weapons flashing, firing, and slashing. Rytlock makes straight for Barradin while his troops finish off the ancient duke’s coterie of ghosts. This is his task. Rytlock bares his fangs in a snarl as he ducks Barradin’s swings and returns the favor, tearing ethereal matter from Barradin’s form in raggedy trails. The other charr surround and flank Barradin, and he is pierced by a dozen blades.

Finally, his form wavering with instability and wreathed in flames, Barradin turns and flees intangibly through the mass of charr behind him, toward his tomb and statue. The charr make way for Rytlock, none wanting to accidentally deal the final blow to their quarry.

But suddenly the statue above them creaks, groans, shifts; Barradin’s ghost vanishes; and ghostly energy flares from the statue, from its mouth, eye-holes, and every stony joint of its massive chest. The statue swings a huge sword in one hand and a massive fist with the other, and smashes down upon the warbands, crushing and scattering them. It roars in Barradin’s ghostly voice, “I will not be defeated! I will destroy you all!”

Rytlock rises from the ground with aches that will become bruises later, and hoists Sohothin high. “You lost this war long ago!” he roars, “and we’ll kill you until you get the point!” His soldiers roar in return and charge the statue. Rytlock clambers atop the tomb, making sure to keep his claws out so as to disfigure the regal human relic, and wedges Sohothin between the statue’s stones, prying them apart.

The charr bash the stones, smashing them. The rust-furred gladium ratchets up the heat on his flamethrower. Barradin howls.

“We burned down his kingdom and buried the ashes!” Rytlock roars. “Make him remember that day!” The day his own king turned him into a mindless, vengeful ghost rather than admit defeat - yeah, that's gotta be a pleasant memory. He yanks Sohothin around inside the statue, and Barradin roars, swinging wildly, flinging charr across the room.

Flamethrower boy dodges and climbs up beside Rytlock and then continues clambering up the statue, despite the heavy backpack with the machinery of the flamethrower. He finally reaches the top and wrestles his flamethrower around to blast Barradin in the face at full heat. A cheer comes from the doorway behind them.

Barradin claws at his face in agony and flings the gladium to the floor, where he crumples.

“Forward, Legions!” Rytlock shouts, glancing back at his scattered soldiers. “Finish him!”

There is a new charr, white-furred, barreling across the floor from the doorway, a massive sword held high, a snarl on his face. He pauses a moment next to the flamethrower-wielding gladium - hm… perhaps no gladium after all - who stirs and seems to speak, before the white-furred arrival joins the other charr as they surge forward. Rytlock turns back to the statue as they reach him, and stabs Sohothin into any available hole in the statue.

Stones are smashed, and the ghost roars in agony. Stones are dislodged, and the statue wavers. Its base is cut out from beneath it, and it falls, stones raining down around Rytlock and piling up past the tomb he stands on. He leaps out of the way, landing ten feet away on all fours as pieces of the statue continue to rain down. Last of all, Barradin’s fire-scorched head lands with a thud on the mound of the ruins of the statue.

Rytlock rears upright on his hind legs and stretches head and shoulders above the other charr, looking around at his soldiers in grim satisfaction. Flamethrower boy is getting up, and his white-furred maybe-warbandmate is hovering anxiously next to him. There is no sign of any more ghosts, and the other soldiers are gathering around, looking to him for next actions. Rytlock returns to a natural position and grins at them. “Mission accomplished. You’re heroes now, boys and girls; congratulations.”

The soldiers roar in victory, but while this battle is won, it remains to be seen if defeating Duke Barradin had ended the siege outside the crypt. Motion catches Rytlock’s eye as Barradin’s head rolls off the pile of rubble and across the floor. Rytlock frowns, realizing that the rumble from the falling statue had not stopped, and indeed is getting stronger. “Report back to Smokestead!” he barks.

“Yes, Tribune!” comes the chorus of replies.

Rytlock sheathes Sohothin, its flaming length disappearing inside the stone scabbard. Rytlock drops to all fours, and bounds towards the door, followed by his warbands. Rytlock spares a glance for the Iron soldier - that flamethrower-to-the-face trick was impressive - but he seems to have recovered nicely and is running alongside the others.

Rytlock chooses the most direct way out of the crypt, avoiding the side passages. Occasionally another ghost pops up, but each charr gives it a slash of their claws and by the time the whole column passes, the ghost is dispersed.

Emerging outside the crypt, Rytlock sees that the ghosts attacking Smokestead seem to have retreated at the death of their leader, and the charr are regrouping. Rytlock turns to his troops, grinning again. They’d done it. The ghosts are gone and the Black Citadel is safe. It won’t be overrun today, not by long-dead humans or by other foes - Rytlock envisions dragon minions bleeding out of a miles-long scar in Ascalon, and bares his fangs in a grin. The battles aren’t over yet.

But for now, Rytlock’s troops had earned their victory. “Report to Smokestead,” Rytlock repeats. The crypt collapses with a loud rumble as the soldiers salute. Aah, and maybe that ghostly mouse won’t be reforming at all. That’d be something indeed. One can hope, at least. The charr scatter, heading to meet up with their respective legionnaires and centurions.

One rust-furred, flamethrower-wielding Iron Legion soldier stays behind, frozen, staring at the entrance to what is now rubble. Now is as good a time as any. “Name and rank, soldier.”

“Howl was in there,” the soldier says irrelevantly, still staring.

Rytlock snarls. “Unless this ‘Howl’ was a ‘bandmate of yours, I want your name and rank, soldier.”

“Yes, sir! Sorry, sir.” The soldier turns to Rytlock and salutes. “I’m Vargok Hellforge, of the Forge Warband. Howl was my legionnaire.”

“I see.” It’s always unfortunate to lose a ‘bandmate, but in Rytlock’s estimation, this Hellforge fellow is decent enough to replace him. He doesn’t know the warband, though, and that’s not his call. “I assume Krysknife was your centurion?”

“Yes, sir. I don’t think he survived.”

“He didn’t,” Rytlock snorts, “if he had to send a soldier without any leadership experience to lead his troops to a pivotal battle. But you did an admirable job. I like your flamethrower; innovative, thinks outside the box. Find the rest of your warband and report to your Tribune.”

“Yes, sir!”

Rytlock turns away. Now these ghosts are dealt with, at least - for now - and the Legions can focus on the dragon minions in eastern Ascalon. At least until the ghost forces recover... Rytlock stomps toward the Village of Smokestead and the gate to the Black Citadel, lashing his tail. He needs a breakthrough. There has to be some way of reversing the curse of the Ascalonian ghosts.

Or at least, some way of slowing them down. Rytlock passes warbands gathering, repairing damage, rebuilding defenses. The dragons are only getting more bold and more powerful, and with the ghosts participating in the war of attrition to wear down the charr Legions...

Well, this situation isn't tenable. Something has to change. Rytlock's research on the curse that turned the humans to ghosts two centuries ago... hadn't been going well lately. Absolutely no clues on if Sohothin could help reverse the curse its twin had cast. And the Legions don't have long left.

If only there was a band-aid solution to tide them over... something to nudge them into a holding pattern, at least...

Who am I kidding?

Rytlock has two leads, and two only: the myth, untenable and unsupported, that his sword Sohothin has the power to reverse the curse; or the proven strategy of teaming up with Destiny's Edge and Logan-flaming-Thackeray, and slaying the Elder Dragon outright.

Rytlock would take the myth.

[anghraine]

I still don't quite have the fortitude to play the Charr level 10 story (key notwithstanding), given how even the tutorial had Rytlock gloating about reminding Barradin's tortured ghost of, uh, the horrors inflicted on his people by the Charr that Barradin himself lived through—

—before the conquest drove his king mad and Barradin got killed by him / transformed into a vengeful ghost who is both eternally frozen in time and functionally immortal.

(Fun fact: Barradin was actually the next in line in the traditional Ascalonian succession, not Adelbern, who was more of an Eärnil-type noble war hero and given the crown by popular acclaim. Barradin was totally chill about this, firmly supported Adelbern as king despite grumbling from some snobbish nobles, and seems content with the engagement of his daughter Althea to Adelbern's heir, Prince Rurik.

Then the Charr invaded, in the course of which they captured Althea and burned her alive among many other things, and Rurik got killed trying to lead Ascalonian refugees to Kryta before being turned into an undead horror by the former grand vizier of Orr and current lich lord. Said lich had unleashed the magic that wiped out the Orrians (including himself, in a sense) in response to ... the Charr's attempted conquest of Orr. IT'S A LOT but, anyway, I've always felt really bad for the Barradins, and sometimes wonder if things might have gone differently if Barradin actually had become king instead of Adelbern, who seems to have been competent and well-liked before the Searing, but couldn't hold it together after.

I'm not invested enough to write a GW1 AU that nobody would read, lol, just ... idly curious, I guess.)

*deep breath* howEVER, I did use my spare character slot to make my first sylvari character. I didn't care for them aesthetically for a long time, but after warming up to their look and also wanting the achievement points for the racial storylines and cultural armor, and enjoying playing stories I haven't seen before, I decided to try one! I was thinking it might be fun to follow the counter-cultural trend with my punk Charr activist and have my sylvari be an aggressive, temperamental explorer type, so I made her a (fire-oriented) elementalist with the red-gold "hair" and eyes option. Cycle of Noon, etc.

I just finished the level 10 storyline (Shield of the Moon variant) and a) it was actually fun and not frustrating, which was very nice! Also, holy shit, Caithe is 100x more hardcore in the sylvari personal story than she seems when you play as human and only meet her as Logan's elegant, sensible (wrt the dragons), but somewhat naive ex-guildmate. But as a sylvari, she's both super impressive and also a mess, which was really fun after nearly always playing humans.

[bigsnaff]

When the village of Smokestead trembled as the colossal statue of Duke Barradin collapsed from underneath, a weary asura stepped out from the Lion's Arch gate in the Black Citadel and made his way to the village, unknowing of the assault.

Cyna Crystalclaw's legionarre rank, stripped from her upon the death of two of her 'bandmates under her charge whilst battling the Branded over a year ago, was unceremoniously re-granted when the former legionarre of the Crystal warband, Howl the Brazen, ate solid stone as the catacombs collapsed on top of him.

The asura and charr passed as they headed in opposite directions — the charr to report to her centurion, and the asura slowly making his way to his workshop in the village. The remnants of a loss clung to both of their features as their gaze crossed one another's, but they said nothing.

The asura had returned from the ruins of a recently-destroyed asuran city, where the loss of his firstborn son, among many others, plagued his heart. But it had been a year of mourning, and he decided that it was time to return to work and regain a sense of normalcy. He departed from his daughter, who in turn returned to the Durmand Priory to advance her apprenticeship, and him to Ascalon.

A week later, Cyna would be given the news that her sire had unremarkably passed from an infected wound, and being such a decorated soldier as him, he would receive a ceremonial funeral by pyre that she was expected to attend.

Cyna had scarcely known her sire. This was not uncommon for charr. In the man's eyes glistened a lost favor for her that had not left ever since the death of Cyna's younger brother-by-blood at a botched mission into the Dragonbrand — the same incident that caused her the stripping of her legionarre rank.

Nonetheless, she desired to retain her rank this time, and so, despite her better judgment, she attended the funeral — and gazed, emotionless, into the bleeding sky, as the former Centurion faded into ash — as all eventually would.

Days passed, and following the Smokestead Assault, the Legionarre Cyna Crystalclaw now had a reputation for smashing ghosts. Her centurion soon contracted an individual with a penchant for building machinery that was similarly adept at such a task. Cyna was then forcibly partnered with a very strange asura that smelled of oil and iron.

The individual was Dokks; the same asura she had passed on the day she helped to fell Duke Barradin. The two recognized one another, and this time, Dokks smiled. Cyna did not.

But Dokks was nothing if not persistent. As the two worked together to arrange a plan that would ideally prevent another ghostly assault on Smokestead, Dokks would talk with Cyna. Her cold exterior scarcely seemed to phase him. He would talk of his cubs — his progeny. He would crack jokes, and try to lure Cyna into them as well. He would ask her questions of her interests and ideals, to which Cyna's answers, if any at all, were short and curt.

But slowly she warmed to him. She became fascinated by his outlook, and inquired as to what led an asura to the High Legions. A traveler, she finds out, to which an agreement was struck between him and the Iron Legion. Limitless resources — all for his expertise.

Dokks' presence became a comfort to her; a warm face, of such things in the Legions were rare, and directed at her even rarer. And if Cyna discreetly inquired to her centurion that her and Dokks' partnership to be extended, well, she'd never tell.

Cyna would eventually be handed a letter. A posthumous missive from her sire. Through the contents she discovered that his sole inheritance to her was a glorified treasure hunt. She grit her teeth as she crumpled the letter in her hands and stamped it into the dirt. She would never find the Diessa Chalice that Argus Foolkiller left to her.

After the sudden and bizarre desecration of Howl the Brazen's grave occurred, Cyna was tasked with joining the Order of Whispers. And so it was she said goodbye to her warband — for a time, of course; she would undoubtedly return once a proper link was established between the Order and the High Legions. But she also said goodbye to Dokks, of whom she had more doubts of seeing again — though she didn't expect her heartstrings to be plucked so deeply at the realization.

And it seemed almost a lifetime passed within less than a year, as Cyna rose through the ranks of the Order, lost yet another friend upon Tybalt Leftpaw's sacrifice, and became, perhaps, another form of legionarre, after the retaking of Claw Island, standing beside the sylvari Trahearne.

When she first entered through the gates of a reconstructed fortress that she now commanded, she heard a familiar, chipper voice beckon her — and she smiled as she knelt down to greet her friend.

[alta1r1an]

Catpost: Zavrik Duskbringer

He's been around a while now! and you've seen him too! but now it is time for me to *tell* you about Zavrik Duskbringer.

29 at the time for it to roll into 1325 AE, an ash legion soldier of the Dusk warband that at the time was on assignment in the area of the Black Citadel. Called to the front to assist in yet another one of the Citadel's engagement with the ghosts, he tragically lost most of his warband and was forced to rebuild it.

During the fight against Duke Barradin he made the acquaintance of one Tribune Brimstone. A connection that would aid him in the very next investigation he as an ash legion soldier would undertake: A flame legion plot against the citadel. It continues from there (i.e. I havent really written most of it yet)

Zavrik is... atypical on the surface on what you'd come to expect from an Ash soldier. Warm, extroverted, happy for a good scrap and lover of a good party.

However none of those traits come with him being trusting or one to make genuine connections. Everything he does is for his objective. He's safer with everyone at a distance, easier to do his work when he can exploit close relations without being bound by them.

That also makes him: a flirt, a talented drinker. Even a certain Tribune he makes friends with! But he hasn't done a single hookup without leaving the bed cold in the morning.

I am, excited, to try and drag him through the story. It has been years since I did a playthrough of gw2 (the last time was when it was coming out! in high school for me!). This time I get to do it with a pretty Charr who is hopefully going to be a loveable disaster.

[brightwingedbat]

Meet Tharrhon "Rhon" Lionheart. Commander, one of a different universe to Nastazya.

22 years old in 1325 AE, he's an Iron Legion soldier who serves as the bodyguard of his warband, the Heart Warband. Keeping enemies distracted so that his warband can unleash the ammo rain.

He earned his warband name for his dignity and bravery, "like a lion." His warband had nothing to fear with him nearby, sadly due to a Centurion's order he was not able to protect them in the assault on Duke Barradin, leaving only his warbandmate Euryale Fireheart standing beside him on returning from the battle.

Battered and in low spirits, but not broken. He gets promoted to Legionnaire as he works on rebuilding his warband, and setting forth on his path to be Commander.

[skirmishing-barnstormer]

oh look, I finally post a blorbo ooooOOOOOHHH SHNAP

Anyway, this is Calanthe Roanstroke, my oldest and most well traveled character. I'm still working on a story for her, but I like the idea of her and the Roan warband being sentinels along Kralk's path before being called to Smokestead for the assault against Duke Barradin.

I still dunno what I'm doing with her armor and design, I just know that around LWS4 when an olmakhan healed her/revived her its how her horns got glowy, and now shes stuck with them haha

[i-mybrunettelady]

Sometimes I forget how deep my Ainsaph family lore goes...

Like, Nyra's family descends from Duke Barradin's brother so she is, in fact, related to Barradin as well! I do wanna make an Ainsaph family member, an idea I've been cooking for a hot second now, but I will enjoy the game with Sofka rn (she isn't related to Nyra at all, she's a totally other guy)

[wall-legion]

The Last of the First: Garrus Firstblood

Garrus was born the second of a litter of triplets to sire Vitus Bladesight and dam Domitia Nightcaster, and it was said to be lucky that she was an experienced dam at that point in her life because it was a difficult litter to bear and bring into the world. Garrus and his one of his two sisters, Fausta, survived: the runt, Horatia, would not. Such was the way of the world with litters that produced multiple cubs. Garrus was unremarkable when he was a young cub. He was polite and minded his elders, to be sure; he engaged with the other cubs his age in all the right ways; and when it came time for his entry into the fahrars he made it into a respectable enough one that made his parents proud. If one were looking for evidence of a future savior of Tyria that far back, one would be hard pressed to find any proof of concept. It was as he progressed in the fahrar that his true talents began to emerge. He had a knack for getting animals to trust him due to his quiet, patient nature. He was able to disappear into a crowd, in spite of his increasing height and horn length. His tracking skills became the talk of the higher-ups, in the fahrar and beyond. There were mentions of those in his extended family: “he’s the nephew of Liath Slaughterclaw, you know,” legionnaires would say in passing as they started talking about whether or not to recruit the young charr as the time grew closer. He found a group of friends in his fahrar, his first “practice warband” before they would be recruited into a larger one. They fought like they had always fought as a unit together. The legionnaires now truly sat up and took notice. At recruitment, Garrus was one of the first to be announced, called into the Ash Legion and recruited into the almost legendary First warband. He couldn’t believe his ears when everything was said and done; more so when his “practice” group was also recruited with him. It was like a dream come true. For a few weeks, everything seemed like it was going the way it should be. They were training with the First, they were outfitted with their new kits, and they had moved into their new quarters. They were given their official names, now that they were in the warband: Garrus remembered asking naively if the Blood Legion would be upset that he had been given the name Firstblood, and the old Ash legionnaire who had named him just laughed and laughed in response. Then there was the announcement: they were taking on a human ghost, someone called Duke Barradin, in his own tomb the next day. It was one ghost. How bad could it be? The answer would prove to be “very, very bad”, Garrus would think in retrospect, trying to not recall walking past crushed bodies or hearing muffled voices screaming for help under dusty rubble. Trying to not relive the memory of looking at Aulus Firstdawn, an elementalist his dam’s age, who had been singing something bawdy and racist about humans one moment and the next was just gone under a wall, and the weird vacuum that was the silence that followed. He helped get out who he could, but the legionnaires called for them to fall back after a while. Anyone who was left would be retrieved at a later date. But Garrus had performed so outstandingly, and in front of Rytlock Brimstone! Rytlock himself was impressed with the young charr and said he should be made legionnaire, to replace one of the ones who had died in the assault! Garrus returned to barracks, laid on his bunk still covered in grime and dust from the tomb, and tried to not weep like the cub he felt like. So many had asked him if he thought that was exciting: it wasn’t. It was horrifying. He did want to serve his warband, his legion, his people, but not at the expense of others dying. Not like this. But the wheels turned, and as a cog in the machine, Garrus turned with them. He was made legionnaire and, as it turned out, Rytlock had other and greater plans for the Ash Legion upstart who proved himself quick and clever in the tomb. Suddenly it wasn’t just legionnaire, it was going with Rytlock to Lion’s Arch whenever he met with (or, Garrus thought, perhaps “clashed with” would be more appropriate) his old guild. It was after one of these “visits” that Garrus decided he needed some time away from... well, everyone. He loaded up on supplies, and headed out into the fields with his pet at his heels. He was perfectly content that day to just spend some time training with his stalker, making sure that they were in tune with each other, and instead he found himself helping to defend an asura from a Flame Legion shaman. When it rains it pours, I guess, he mused, as he listened to her prattle for a bit before he could finally introduce himself. Her name was Qirri of Pazz. He wondered where Pazz was. It took a bit before he learned that asura introduced themselves as from their more accomplished parent, and Pazz was her sire. He never told her that he originally thought that her father was her hometown. He probably never will. Then it was “oh Garrus, you should meet with the three Orders; they have a conflict and I’d like your input on it”, which turned into him having to pick an Order to join. Naturally he chose Whispers; it was the closest to Ash Legion so it felt like a good fit for his skills. Qirri chose the Priory, and suddenly he had to leave the tiny asura to her own devices. After having traveled with her for weeks, there was a heart-rending loneliness in the idea of leaving her with someone else as they parted to train with their respective orders. But duty called, and as a responsible charr, he listened. And since then, duty seems to have been calling nonstop. First Claw Island (and the incident that led to necrotic damage to his right arm, causing Qirri to invent a glove to help stimulate the muscles in that arm and assist with drawing on his bow string). Then Zhaitan, then all of Scarlet Briar’s madness and machinations. Then Maguuma and Mordremoth (after sending Qirri home, because she got so sick and she was so mad, and he was certain he’d lost the only friend he was sure he’d ever had). After that it was off to the Crystal Desert and taking on Balthazar and actually dying and having to get himself and Vezz out of the Mists, then that musty bastard Palawa Joko, before finally facing down Kralkatorrik. In the middle of all that, hatching and raising the dragon Aurene with the guild, and teaching her to work with the mortals of Tyria instead of in opposition. In the midst of everything in Elona, a moment of reprieve: his guildmate Agaue, a fellow charr, accepted his advances. She doesn’t travel much though, having brought her mother to the Olmakhan charr. Her mother was a Flame Legion dam and treated horribly by that legion. The Olmakhan are treating both women with kindness and care. Garrus knows it’s what’s best for both of them, even though he misses Agaue terribly. Thinking for a moment there might be a breather, but no, his own people had to start a civil war because Imperator Ruinbringer had to want a dragon for himself (as if Aurene belonged to anyone!) and the charr as a whole. Thankfully it was subdued, but in the process the linked dragons Primordius and Jormag arose. Jormag and Primordius destroyed each other, and almost destroyed their champions, Ryland Steelcatcher and Braham Eirsson respectively, in the process but Aurene’s intervention saved them. Garrus had to intervene as Ryland attacked his parents, but when Ryland tried to stab Crecia he could not act in time to keep Rytlock from stopping their son by killing him. Having to follow Gorrik to Cantha to save him from being kidnapped by former Inquest member, now Aetherblade pirate Ankka, and having to navigating both jade tech and Canthan politics to figure out how to find the pirate and how to deal with the last Elder Dragon, Soo-Won. Dealing with the aftermath of Ankka’s actions when she used her device to attack Soo-Won and inflicting Void upon the world. And now... whatever’s going on in that mine. He’s tired. He hasn’t seen Agaue in ages. Hasn’t properly talked to her other than in letters. He’s so worried about Qirri. He’s worried about if he’s properly doing his duties to the Black Citadel since he hasn’t sired a cub yet. His right arm hurts all the time now, because of just how much fighting he’s done for ten years straight since the injury at Claw Island. Even the new glove Qirri made with jade tech only just takes the edge off, but he won’t tell her that. Worse still, he wants to be able to go home, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t know where that is anymore.

[ohpollenpowder]

So first on the block is Tarsicia! So here is what she looked like as of Personal Story! Didn't have her Olmakhan horns at the time, so these are the horns she had then. I tried to use skins that we had at the time, didn't bother doing that with colors though. On to the information!!!

She's a run-away cub from a Flame Legion outpost, doesn't hide her origin either, so she had a slightly more difficult time in the fahrar—the Blood Legion took her in at Blood Keep. Sargeim Ghostweld took care of her wounds—countless times—and eventually, she started giving back as good as she got. She got an addition to her reputation as being a Flame Legion cub, she was a bit of a pyromaniac herself. All unintentional, mind, when she got highly emotional, her Guardian flames would burst forth and take little heed in sparing her target.

Ended up at the Black Citadel to further her lessons as a Guardian, to try and get some control over her emotional state as well. At this time, her point of view of the world was very black-and-white; not so much in the good-vs-evil sense—though that is in there somewhere—but in the traditional Charr vs Humans and the Three Legions vs Flame. Think…kind of like a Paladin?

Got Rytlock's attention in the same way as story—the fight with Duke Barradin's ghost; the Ghost warband lost fewer members than the majority that was lost in story, however. Vuddat Ghosthammer, Ovidus Ghostreave, Zilol Ghostblade and Dolabella Ghostsoul were the ones she had the most interactions with. Out of the four, she got along best with the old and grumpy Ovidus, a Warrior and their Legionnaire.

The fight with the Duke left Ovidus gravely injured, so much so that he was "forced" to retire—he wouldn't spread it around, but he was ready to retire anyway. He chose Tarsicia as his replacement; Vuddat almost instantly challenged her for the role, to the death as his honor dictated. He was five years her senior, more experienced, and Ovidus' second-in-command at the time, so he had thought he was a shoo-in. Rytlock oversaw the fight, Tarsicia fought him to the point where Vuddat surrendered, and because of her morals (and not wanting to lose more bandmates), she turned her back on him to head to the side of the ring. He—of course—attacked her back and her Guardian flames completely engulfed him.

If we're being honest, the first time Tarsicia met the others in Lion's Arch, she was very skeptical—more so at old bridges being mended. But she also didn't care for any of them at first glance, very "judging the book by the cover" of her. Izar and Oiba were both very aloof, keeping to themselves. Nilo and Emrys were already talking up a storm with one another. And Nicoletta seemed to be a mixture of both.

She met Nicoletta again when they met up with their mentor—a group mentorship under Forgal. They found out after his death that Forgal had requested the both of them despite the fact it would double his workload. Nicoletta, she found, was actually shy and a bookworm but chose the Vigil to help her assertiveness and confidence. Tarsicia took her under her wing for that bit.

The dungeons were how she slowly got to know the others, though she did end up getting to know Nilo more quickly; twins, she found, were often attached at the hip. Nilo was the more confident/loud twin, but he had the problem of being overly confident as well. (Hint to his missing hand.) Izar, as it was, just held himself back out of fear of further abandonment. Raven eventually convinced him to try. Emrys and she bonded over professions, believe it or not, seeing as he was endlessly curious about her Guardian abilities. Oiba was the last she got to know—another shy sort—seeing as she mostly socialized with her pets when her nose wasn't buried in her research. But one of the things she was researching—and Tarsicia agreed to help with—is Guardian flames and how do they choose what they burn.

Claw Island was…hard. At least leaving it was. Izar and Emrys both had to hold her back as their mentors pulled the doors shut behind them. She wanted to go back and fight with them, not leave them. Still, she recognized their courage and sacrifice. Nicoletta often used the excuse that she was sad and needed comfort to curl up in Tarsicia's paws, but they both knew that it was Tarsicia that needed the comfort.

Trahearne… She had some misgivings of. He was a Necromancer, why couldn't he have done more in Orr. But when she saw the chaos of a fully-stocked, "natural" Risen environment, she quickly understood the magnitude of their sheer numbers. Still, it took until the cleansing for her to have true respect for him.

Zhaitan felt like a sigh of relief once the Elder Dragon fell, like they had been given more time. (lol) This was the first push of magic that hit them, and it affected them all like a terrible cold after the fight. Tarsicia was left with an awareness of her friends'—they're friends at this point, not yet a guild—locations and general state of mind. Helpful, but she didn't reveal this until Heart of Thorns when they got separated. As time went on—and more magic was absorbed—she's been able to add connections.

But that's jumping in time! So we'll stop with the ending of Personal Story for now. More details will be added in here and there, of course, once we have everyone to the end we'll start again and go on with Living World Season One stuff!

[guildwarsgirl]

Got another character slot and decided to bring back my warrior from Guild Wars 1, Amy Barradin, the widow of Prince Rurik and eldest daughter of Duke Barradin.

[anghraine]

Here's the GW1/Gwen Thackeray rambling post I promised @venndaai a ... while ago. It is extremely rambling, and also, I feel like I should probably warn for something. GW1 keeps the true brutality of the Charr invasion offscreen, but it doesn't really conceal what's happening.

Um—okay, CW for, hm, military conquest, mentions of large-scale killing and enslavement, including sometimes specific references to the means of death. Also spoilers for a lot of GW1.

As I've mentioned before, Gwen is my favorite character in the entire series, despite the GW1 writing being more uneven than GW2's (I think GW1's writing tends to be conceptually/structurally "better" but the execution on the sentence level is very unreliable). I can't remember everything I've said about it before, so here are ALL of my Gwen/Ascalon Blorbo Emotions.

GW1, especially the original game (re-titled Prophecies), tends to be very railroad-y in story terms, even by comparison to GW2. As a Prophecies character, you're an Ascalonian living in your home before the Searing, and a new member of the elite Ascalon Vanguard led by King Adelbern's son and heir, Prince Rurik.

As the game starts, you're finishing up your training in Ascalon City. You receive the command to go just outside the city to meet the trainer for your profession (usually mesmer in my case). The moment that you walk out the front gates, you see a shrine on your left, attended by a female monk, and a dark-haired little girl skipping around. Both the monk and the girl have quests for you.

The girl, of course, is the young Gwen (she had no other name back then). We're not told her age at the time, though if I recall correctly, the lore says she's ten. In my opinion, she looks and acts considerably younger.

In any case, she has lost her flute just across a nearby river. She's too afraid of the local skale to fetch it herself, and asks you to do it for her. However, when you kill the skale and go across the river, you discover the flute is broken, much to her dismay.

You do your various early adventures, and when you go back to the city to sell to the merchant, you have the option to buy things like a flute, a fairly expensive red cape, and the like. These are things you can give to Gwen. If you buy her the flute, she always has it afterwards (well, until the Searing...), and if you talk to her again after buying her a new flute, she'll follow you around and periodically heal you by playing the instrument.

You can also give her red iris flowers, to her delight. They're her favorite flower and spawn throughout the pre-Searing zones (if you talk to the right person, you'll discover that she uses them to make flower wreaths for a friendly dolyak). If you do this enough, she bonds with you, and will eventually give you something she considers valuable: a red shred of a tapestry (its purpose would not be revealed until the third expansion—it's part of a hall of achievements).

As she follows you around, she also chatters quite a lot about various things, including what little we know of her early history. Unlike a lot of NPC major characters, she has no ties to royalty or aristocracy or anything like that. She's the daughter of a random adventurer and of a village woman near Ashford Abbey. She sort of wants to be a warrior, but she really likes the mesmers' superior sense of fashion, and it's a struggle (#relatable; also, she does ultimately become a mesmer).

She mentions one specific mesmer, incidentally: Lady Althea, the daughter of Duke Barradin. Althea runs a theatre outside of the city, teaches students in illusion magic, and true to mesmer form, wears one of my favorite outfits in the game.

—but which tragically has yet to be ported to GW2. Anyway.

As the pre-Searing game progresses, we learn that after the last king died, the next person in the line of succession would have been Duke Barradin, Althea's father. He stepped aside for Adelbern, a war hero, and thus far, a competent and largely popular king who is loyally supported by Barradin, among others. The only opposition to his rule at this point comes from obnoxious snobs.

Anyway, Althea is engaged to Prince Rurik, Adelbern's son, and little Gwen wants to go to the royal wedding. She's never actually seen the prince and wonders if she ever will (she doesn't, in the event).

*deep breath* Then the Searing happens.

The Searing is devastating for both the land and the Ascalonians. The earth is turned into a cracked desolation marked with burning crystals. Rivers turn to sludge. Thousands of people are killed in the Searing alone and thousands more flee from the Charr invaders. Althea Barradin is taken captive and burned alive, down to ashes. Other people are captured and enslaved. Even GW2 says the Ascalonian aqueducts ran red with blood after the Searing.

As for the PC, you belatedly discover the details of this upon returning from a two-year Vanguard mission away from the heart of Ascalon. The full Charr invasion force is still being held back by what remains of Ascalon's armies, but Charr forces break through at points, and it's obvious the Ascalonians are now losing.

Meanwhile, the Ascalonian people are deeply traumatized. Enough of them went insane after the Searing that Ashford Abbey has been converted into a mental sanitarium. NPCs are trying to put together a census to figure out who is even alive at this point. In the battered but still standing Ascalon City, the random guards are like:

By and large, GW1 does not pull its punches.

As for Gwen, you have no idea what happened to her at this stage, though you find her flute—broken again—out in the desolation beyond Ascalon City. In fact, Prophecies never reveals what happened to her, and the two stand-alone expansions are in totally different locations with different, Charr-unrelated, plots (they're set in Cantha and Elona respectively, and for the full stories, you would make new Canthan and Elonian characters to play them).

Meanwhile, Prince Rurik (who adored his fiancée Althea) and the PC gradually realize the Ascalonians can't win this war. They need to accept the help offered by their traditional enemies in Kryta and take refuge there for the sake of their people. King Adelbern is ... not the same after the Searing and increasingly irrational. He refuses and disowns his son when Rurik argues with him.

Rurik is like ... fuck it, and he leads anyone who will go with him into the Shiverpeaks to get to Kryta, including the PC. Some friendly dwarves help out (there were lots of dwarves back then), while the malevolent Stone Summit (who I think oppressed the dredge??) try to kill the refugees and end up just murdering Rurik for no particular reason. This series of events is why the Ascalonian sector of Divinity's Reach is "Rurikton," though he himself never made it to Kryta.

BTW, Rurik's sword would be found and seized by Rytlock many generations later. This is what Logan is referring to in GW2 when he snaps at Rytlock, "Gut me? With what? That human-made sword you looted from Ascalon?" And 200+ years after the fact, Adelbern is still grief-stricken by how terribly wrong things went with Rurik. His mental state seems to have declined even faster after Rurik's death, which Rytlock mocks him over in the Ascalonian Catacombs dungeon. This is a tangent, but, well.

After Rurik's death, you lead the refugees the rest of the way to Kryta. There, the also-theocratic but ostensibly benevolent White Mantle leadership of the country has offered you a settlement for the Ascalonian refugees. (The settlement is continually besieged but still standing in GW2, though the Ascalonians there are treated fairly dismissively.) You help the settlement and White Mantle for awhile before discovering the latter are super evil. You end up switching allegiances, and helping to overthrow them and place the daughter of the former king of Kryta (who fled during the Charr's triple invasion of Kryta, Orr, and Ascalon) on the throne.

(This post doesn't get into the invasions of Kryta and Orr, which don't have even the tenuous justification of the invasion of Ascalon. But they also happened around the same time, and the Orrians were terrified of experiencing what the Ascalonians did.)

The plot continues but is mostly unrelated to this arc. So you deal with Canthan stuff in Factions and then Elona stuff in Nightfall. And then, some eight or nine years after the Searing, you end up traveling wayyyyy north into Norn lands (this is the first time we encounter Norn) and discover a sanctuary there, the Eye of the North, which is actually home to a bunch of Ascalonians.

I can't remember if it's a GW2 retcon or not, but the Norn were actually pretty pro-Charr as far as the invasion went, apparently because they thought it was super badass, so they let the Charr pass through their lands. But they also let Ascalonian strike teams have a base up north, presumably also because they found it badass (I don't actually remember the rationale for the Ascalonian base otherwise).

Anyway. These Ascalonians are the early Ebon Vanguard, who at the time, are an elite force answering to King Adelbern and operating deep behind Charr enemy lines. Their numbers have grown, however, through the rescue and recruitment of human former slaves, prisoners, and refugees of the Charr. This matters because you're greeted by one of them when you arrive—a Vanguard member named Gwen.

Yup, it's her, at last.

So we find out what happened to her. She has some quests, and becomes both a hero (an NPC companion with a lot of player control options) and actually playable in a sort of mini-episode where you try to finagle her escape from the Charr and find out what her life was like before then.

Real bad, it turns out.

Back in/after the Searing, her mother was killed, and tiny Gwen wandered desperately around the devastated landscape, looking for help. This is kindly illustrated!

Instead, the Charr found her and enslaved her, which was apparently their standard practice for children. According to Gwen's official story, she "toiled under the constant lash" of Charr masters for seven years. Many other human slaves around her either broke and/or were killed. Gwen herself was afraid of the Charr but also developed a seething hatred of them.

At seventeen, she tried to escape and was quickly recaptured and judged useless by the Charr, except as a final entertainment. See, they had this fun practice of setting up gladiatorial matches inside their camps "for the glory of the legions." They'd set unarmed human slaves against wild animals and get a kick out of the humans being disemboweled (this is 100% canon!). So here's 17-y-o Gwen right before her planned disembowelment:

However! Gwen was smart and tricky enough to outwit the beast supposed to kill her, and she managed to kill it (iirc) and escaped into the labyrinthine tunnels below. These turned out to be the Charr's grisly depository for the bodies of those killed in the death matches over the years. Gwen was hardened enough by then to make her way through the dead, determined to escape for good. On the way, she discovered a book of mesmer spells and was able to learn them as she continued on.

She knew she'd be killed in an even more painful way if she were ever captured again, and the only thing to do was to keep going. She emerged from the tunnels and fled her pursuers, striking out for the mountains. On the way, she was discovered again—this time, by members of the Ebon Vanguard operating in Charr territory. She escaped with them, joined the Vanguard, and served them loyally.

That's not the end, though. By the time the PC meets Gwen, she is still very psychologically damaged, and part of her ruthlessness and rage comes from lingering fear. In the course of the plot, you end up freeing some Charr dissenters—not dissenters from the conquest or the Searing (this is explicit), but from being subject to theocratic rule based on gods who have turned out to be false (this is why Charr in GW2 are so hung up on trusting weaponry and "not false gods"). One of these dissenters is Pyre Fierceshot, a Charr hero by GW2 (and also a playable companion-hero in GW1). Gwen is immediately and intensely hostile towards him, as might be expected, while he proves to actually be trustworthy.

He calls her "mouse" (as Charr call all humans) and vaguely trolls her, but is ultimately fairly understanding of why she's so angry and scared. He turns out to be kind of trying to help her overcome her terror, and when the PC asks if he blames her for her rage and fear, he responds, "No. She was a prisoner of the Charr." But in his view, her fear is still crippling her and he's trying to get her to overcome it (because she's not useful!).

Gwen and Pyre end up cooperating in order to accomplish assorted things, but mainly working to spark a Charr revolution against the shaman caste whom Gwen and Pyre both have reasons to want gone (as does the PC, especially if you're a Prophecies character—and therefore an Ascalonian survivor of the Searing). Gwen does ultimately end up processing (some of) her trauma and overcoming her fear, and faces Pyre again. He asks if she's come to apologize, and this is what she says:

I want you to know: I do not like you. I do not forgive you. But most of all, I do not fear you. I hate you. There’s a difference.

me: 😍

I was concerned that her arc would culminate in her being shown to be wholly unreasonable and forgiving the Charr dissenters even though they're deeply complicit in what she, the PC, and their people have suffered. But no! She never forgives the Charr (at least in life), and she is never anything but a relentless opponent of them who seeks revenge and gets a lot of it, because she kills so many Charr that they remember her with fear and hatred as Gwen the Goremonger.

What an icon <3

Sometimes people will be like, well, the conflict depends on your POV, the Charr did bad things, but so did Gwen to become the Goremonger #bothsides. And I'm just like, "how dare you besmirch the honor of my blorbo, Gwen did nothing wrong in her entire life, THANKS."

But then we get to my least favorite part of her arc, though she remains incredible overall. It's the obligatory het stuff that I was complaining about awhile ago.

I don't know when they decided she was going to be the ancestor of the human mentor in GW2—maybe it was planned the whole time for Eye of the North (third expansion), maybe not. They had a sort of proto-Living World thing with new releases after the core Eye of the North story while working on GW2, which were meant to culminate in the founding of Ebonhawke. The arc got cut short because of a push from higher-ups to get GW2 out (RIP, Ebonhawke arc that I would have been incredibly into).

Some of what we did get, though, involved Gwen's romance with Keiran Thackeray, another member of the Vanguard. He made "advances" that she coolly rebuffed, but this turned out to be more a product of her trauma and difficulty connecting with people or trusting them than anything else. When she thought he and his unit had died, she was deeply upset that she'd never get the chance to make things right blah blah blah. It's got shades of Han/Leia in ESB, which would normally be a compliment (my favorite movie!), but isn't from me (I dislike the Han/Leia dynamic in 80% of ESB, actually!).

Anyway, he's not actually dead, and she's super relieved, and they end up getting married, and I suspect this whole "she needs to get over being cold and hard and he's just the guy to do it" dynamic exists mostly for the sake of Logan's existence in GW2. There's also a subplot involving her dead mother being on Team Keiran that I won't go into, but it all just feels kind of forced "of course our strong female character needs a man" to me.

It might annoy me a bit less if Logan, the result and likely partial cause of Gwen getting slated for romance, were not as bland as the romance itself. But while I generally like him, he is very milquetoast. I used to call him the beige heartthrob and even so, only realized how bland he is when I played a sylvari, and discovered the mentors are not all like that.

On the bright side, the obligatory het romance does not prevent Gwen from a life of righteous bloody vengeance. If anything, her husband likely helped out, which makes him slightly less annoying. They served together in the north until Adelbern sent the Ebon Vanguard and a suspicious number of civilians south to establish/fortify/defend Ebonhawke. Gwen's superior had died earlier and Gwen was in charge by then, and to go by the account in GW2, she made for an inspiring and hardcore leader on the way to Ebonhawke and in its defense over the rest of her life. She's a beloved hero and icon to the Ascalonians of over 200 years later, and her grave is still imbued with the magical power of being that cool.

[tinkerclaw]

Evokers

The news of the ghost containment units had reached the Separatist camp at the base of the Breached Wall. They were units designed to contain the ghosts of those who perished in the Foefire, and as rumor would have it, to be used as batteries to power the Charr siege engines. The humans at Camp Althea was stirring but few were willing to trek into the middle of Charr territory. The notes from the Separatists camp near Loreclaw Expanse stated the containment units were stored in Exterminatus HQ, not far from where Duke Barradin's Estate previously stood...

A pair of eyes gleamed red as they caught on to a couple slipping out of Camp Althea. They were speaking with hushed voices.

"How dare they continue to exploit us even after death!?"

"Wasn't the Searing enough? Vile beasts."

Typical propaganda bile that was passed between the Seperatist to instigate and justify their anger and hatred. Nothing new to the ears of the couple's follower. They were heading east towards the Breach, close to the epicentre of the Foefire, instead of braving the treacherous remains of the Great Wall. Their shadow went ahead of them, anticipating their route, to warn off any poor unaware Blood Legion grunts on guard duty.

"There's a couple of Speratists coming through here in a little while, out to mess with the containment units." The charr had not revealed itself from the shadows entirely, but had gruff female ring to it. The grunt at guard spat, "and you don't think I can deal with them?" Of course he was going to take that in the wrong way. "Oh, you could deal with these idiots, but wouldn't it be more fun to watch them tamper with Iron inventions first?"

Playing off of the internal rivalries between the three Charr legions, she knew the grunt would stand down and let them pass at the expanse of the Iron Legion.

Shortly after the Humans arrived at the Breach, scouting for Charr activity. There was hardly a ghost around to be seen roaming like they usually do, attacking anything living.

"Coast is clear. Let's press on." The female, donning a bow from Ebonhawke signaled for the male to follow her. He was carrying a similarly adorned rifle. "Those lazy beasts, aren't cats supposed to be mostly nocturnal?" The male scoffed at the lack of a fight.

From the Breach and onward they were a lot quicker and stealthier. Their biggest threat would probably have been an ambush by the outcast Flame Legion that were stalking the southern parts of the Fields of Ascalon, but since most of the ghosts of Duke Barradin's crypt had been contained the legions had put in more resources towards keeping Flame in-check.

Upon arriving at the Charr's Triumph, they could scout for guards at Exterminatus HQ. Two infront, but they could probably sneak in through the back.

While continuing scouting for patrols they were hidden underneath the statue of Charr hero Pyre Fierceshot. "Heh, to think they had their females as pets!" The male looked slightly amused with the thought as he gazed the statue of the Ranger. "Are you dumb? They are just as capable... Especially at killing. Come on, let's sneak in already."

He knocked off the statue's hind claw with the butt of his rifle as they moved out. The red eyes looked upon the vandalism from a distance. It would be such a pleasure to watch them releasing their demise upon themselves.

They snuck around to the back and climbed in. The Charr that had followed them showed herself at the front calling for the attention of the two in front. "Summon a few troops specialized in gathering ghosts. We're about to have an emergency training." Not particularly happy with the words of the Ash centurion the Iron Legion Charr obeyed. As they took of after the passing patrols, the Ash Centurion fixed her gaze upon the Humans dropping down to the platform behind the containment units and slipped back into the shadows.

There was a faint light emanating from the containment units. The ghastly energies was only barely being held back by the magically infused metal walls. The compression valves and safety levers were easily accessible but hard to operate by anything smaller in stature than a Charr. Good for them that they were two.

[meeeeeeese]

Rugan, what is a defining point in his life? What would he be like had that not happened/had he not met a specific person. What would that Rugan be like if we asked him how he felt about things?

For Rugan, the biggest defining point happened when he charged down into the crypt to duke it out with Duke Barradin at the very start of the personal story. Had that not happened, he'd have never met Rytlock, most of his warband would likely still be alive and he'd have never gotten on the path to becoming the dragonslayer. As for what he'd be like, he would probably still become a weapons engineer of some renown, and have noticeably better mental health. Though with this Rugan never going out into the world beyond the legions he'd probably remain a touch prejudiced against the other races, but no where near to the point where joining the dominion would seem like a good idea.

As for how this Rugan would think about things, he'd be a lot less concerned about the world at large, more focused on his tinkering and following orders from above. Essentially just living his life rather than breaking himself worrying about the fate of Tyria.

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

Chest Glitch

This morning I watched a pretty cool video pitting the AI and stats of the NPCs in Dark Souls games against one of the game’s horrors, the Mimic.

I particularly liked how most of the time, if the Mimic wins the fight, the editor lets its full animation play out, where it walks back to where it was, sits down, and closes, once again becoming utterly indistinguishable from a normal chest.

This afternoon I was playing Guild Wars, and there’s this odd little glitch.

When you fast-travel to Piken Square, there’s a series of places in town you might appear: in the back by the merchant, next to the gate, next to the Xunlai Chest and Duke Barradin.

It’s possible this glitch occurs every time you travel in and it’s only visible if you appear directly next to the chest, or that it only happens if your arrival point is the one next to the chest and Duke. Doesn’t really matter. What happens is that the chest spawns in 90 degrees off of its proper orientation. This happens on the axis that would be reasonable! It basically looks like someone shoved it along the ground  by one corner. It’s not knocked over on its back or standing on its side. So if it sometimes spawned in a little differently you might not notice it...except...

When you show up next to it, it corrects this in real time. So you appear next to the chest, and it’s 90 degrees off, and then it turns 90 degrees.

This is weird. And if you’ve spent a while the same morning watching people get eaten by a Mimic, perhaps a little disconcerting.

[brightwingedbat]

im gonna keep trying this--How about a scratch!au situation? Galvar or Vita is the parents of Naz and Allius is the father Marcus and Tantalus? (or something to help pull the uh, extended family out of that) but what ideas might go down in such a situation if Galvar is the commander? (@commanderhorncleaver)

I don't think I can see my characters in an au like that, given how much I design my characters based on their parents. Nastazya gets her face from her dad's side, Galvar looks more like Marcus. So Galvar doesn't actually look like his grandsire on Naz's side, he'd have to be from the Marcus side but then Vita doesn't make sense cause she gets Naz's looks lmao and the Marcus side also doesn't have the orange/brown spots that Galvar has.

However, I do have thoughts about a generational shift au that for my charr ocs only, shifts the generation back a couple decades. ie all my character relations still exist, but the ages all shifted. So Galvar is 21 during 1325 AE, Naz and Marc are still his parents. There's differences cause of them not going through certain things already of course, but this is more of a focus on the Render Warband instead.

Galvar would be the Commander here, and go through the personal story instead. Vita and Lorranu are in his warband, though at game start Lorranu is away for taking care of her and Galvar's cub Tygil. Vita is present at the Duke Barradin battle, though she survives along with Dinky. Patia is in Iron Legion in the Driver warband along with Chip's cubs Bolt, Spark and Rivet. Allius is an Ash Soldier in his own separate Storm warband. They fill in the Iron and Ash personal stories. But don't have much presence beyond core.

As for key story moments which will get into spoilers for gw2.

Galvar is mostly a solo adventurer, Lorranu ends up being the legionnaire of the warband though Vita takes over while Lorranu is busy with cub duty.

Galvar goes through story as you'd expect, but he gets very attuned to Aurene's magic. Shows through his Guardian flames too, which get the prismatic tint to them.

The civil war ends up extremely rough for him, cause Vita ends up getting killed by Vishen during the push to Wolf's Crossing. He gets fucking enraged, and honestly does not fault Smodur at all for what he does to Cinder. Galvar is far too hateful of the Steel warband for taking his sister from him. His Aurene-blazing Guardian Flames is quite a counterpart to Jormag-Ryland too, you could not get more perfect nemeses.

Eventually during the Canthan void outbreak, he ends up losing his left hand during the first part of the battle. But when Aurene gifts him more of her power and makes him Champion-formed, he gets a shiny new crystal left hand made of her prism-brand. At this point, the guardian weapons he summons take form of Aurene Legend weapons rather than the typical blue Guardian ones.

So now we have the world saved, and Galvar the shining example of the Dragon Champion Commander with his new crystal paw. (And then Gyala delve trauma time woo)

[ascalonianpicnic]

Astorin Miststep - “Don’t think I won’t limp over there to knock some manners into your head.”

Charr Revenant - cis man, he/him - gay and still single somehow

Astorin had a pretty standard childhood in the legions. Ash and proud growing up. His warband, the step warband, was always a bit of a ragtag group, taking in those that didn’t have elsewhere to turn and giving them a chance to show off what they were really made of. Astorin was always the unofficial leader, and then he was promoted to actual leader, following the devastating battle against Duke Barradin. Now acting as Legionnaire of the step warband, he helped it recover and regrow. During this time, he and his entire warband proved top tier time and again, and Astorin himself entered into a relationship with Yahuk. After a while, his name was well enough known that the Order of Whispers reached out, recruiting him. Astorin said his goodbyes and left his warband in the capable hands of a trusted friend, joining Whispers to try and do some good against the dragons. It wasn’t long before the pact was founded, and he eagerly joined.

Astorin served the Pact for a good run, joining shortly after it was founded. He was a good spy and an excellent soldier, always glad to lend a hand and defend those who needed it. When the Summit in the Grove was announced, he was quick to volunteer to serve as a guard. And when the mordrem attacked, he was the first one to leap to action, defending citizens and guests alike with all he had. He fought bravely and saved many lives, and he went down in the battle.

Even the medics who attended to Astorin cannot say for certain whether he died or not. He certainly seemed to, and it made the fact that he recovered even more miraculous. Astorin didn’t come back unchanged, though. Open awakening, he had strange new powers, magic he had not had before as a daredevil. As he healed and recovered, Astorin took his time to explore and practice with this new magic, meeting great legends in his Dreams, including Glint herself. He was never one to sit idle, so he trained as much as he safely could. While he healed, though, word came back of the Pact Fleet’s crash into the jungle. The Dragon had felled every airship, and now the entire army was trapped. Astorin, still very much in the process of healing, left then and there to help.

He saved many lives and brought much needed help to the Maguuma, but at the cost of never quite healing right. Following the death of Mordremoth, Astorin retired from field work, and from the Pact as a whole. He lives in a small house of his own on the outskirts of Ascalon. During the events following the Maguuma campaign, he was enlisted to babysit various members of Destiny’s Edge, helping them sort out their personal problems and keeping them out of trouble for a while on behalf of Aqun and Laighe (who belong to @mystery-salad). Zojja is the only one who still currently lives with him, though the two have become close friends over the years. He still keeps in touch with his old warband as well, and on days when his leg isn’t hurting so much and he doesn’t walk with too pronounced of a limp, he’ll visit the Black Citadel to help with training cubs or to talk with soldiers recovering from permanent injuries.

---

Astorin’s injuries from the Summit, worsened during his Maguuma trek, left him with chronic pain and a permanent limp. He’s still a skilled fighter, utilizing his revenant abilities to navigate the battle field rather than his feet. Most days, he prefers to stay at home and learn new skills and hobbies instead though. The Pact and his old warband make sure he’s well set up, so he doesn’t have to work, but that doesn’t stop him from helping out and taking on some of the Pact’s paperwork when it gets overwhelming for the folks still working there. Every day living with Zojja is an adventure in itself, with all of the “accessibility upgrades“ she’s made to the place. There have been a few explosions. But it’s fine. Everyone important walked away, after all.

(end notes: as mentioned in oriphio’s post, i made astorin on the same day as him and variott. I was soon to discover that as much as I was super interested in charr lore and history and culture, I hated their run cycles and I was so bad at revenant as a class lmao. Also his last name in game is actually fadefoot im just too cheap to get a name change contract uwu.

Astorin actually plays a major part in an alternate universe @mystery-salad and I have, where their Taomesin is commander. Astorin covers all the paperwork and other desk work for Tao in that universe, covering the important parts of the pact that they can’t and weren’t ever trained to handle. He and Rhosill end up as a “thing” in that universe and its cute~ just two tired old men~)