#turns out aurene crystal is actually like

[guildtree]

Writer's Game: First Sentences

Tagged by @accidentallyadorable, who also made me realize I've been gone for almost 24 hours. Woops. I swear I'm still here, I'm just so used to lurking I tend to turn invisible sometimes.

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.

I'm counting two WIPs so that I actually have 10. From newest to oldest:

"Why won't you talk to me?" (Unnamed Aurene magic fic, first chapter drafted)

Entering the Priory’s Special Collections strikes Kasmeer dumb with awe. (Unnamed Kasjory fic set in Special Collections, needs editing)

In the afternoon sun, the glare of sunlight off Elona’s sands is blinding. (Honor Amongst Thieves - Zafirah meets Caithe in the Crystal Desert; somehow this fic now has the most kudos)

Where is she? (Fight Ask Ficlets - a batch of little fight scenes written for an ask game)

“Hey! Watch it!” (Cantha is for Lovers - Valentine's Day fluff with Kasjory and Gorrik/Taimi)

Marjory really wished Kasmeer was here. (Year of the Bunny - Lunar New Year fic centered on Marjory and her family)

Kasmeer took Marjory with her when she returned to Seitung Province, or maybe it was more accurate to say Marjory insisted on following her. (Business and Pleasure - slightly spicy Kasjory one-shot written to break out of writer's block)

Marjory really should have known Kas was going to be a cuddler. (Moments of Peace - fluffy 5+1 Kasjory)

When it came to tranquility, there was no beating the Jade Sea. (Date Crashers - comedy Kasjory fic where everything keeps ruining their dates)

“Jory? Jooorrry! Hello? Are you there? Marjory Delaqua!” (Left Behind - Marjory and Taimi helping each other heal after Balthazar's rise, and the first fic I ever posted.)

You can see I started as a Kasjory writer and that that ship isn't going anywhere anytime soon. Also that I like to start fics with dialogue. I'm going to be that guy and say that if you see this and you want to participate, consider yourself tagged.

[pact-pooh-bah]

Hey there! I'm Gamma.

25, he/they

Thought it was about time to make a blog for gw2 specifically! You can find my main here: @gammaneise

This blog'll be for oc posting and art if I actually get around to it.

Hope to see y'all~

Characters:

NOTE: some of these guys are summarised in a non-updated manner. Updating info is probably gonna require a whole lot of story progress for each.

This being said; spoilers!

Charr

Bassus - Blood Legion Guardian, hardass. (Possibly tribune AU wise)

Riaraff - Blood Legion Warrior, gruff dad vibes. Long term rivals with Bassus and his ex-warbandmate.

Velus - Blood Legion Revenant. Bad rep for being friendly/empathetic with ghosts. Accepted into Riaraff's warband when turned away from others.

Spitz - Iron Legion Engineer. Riaraff's sister, tough but friendly. Specialises in artillery and warmachines.

Lupis - Ash Legion Thief. Nihilistic and abrasive. Currently working with the Order of Whispers.

Vocula - Ash Legion(?) Ranger. Reserved and stubborn. Specialises in training arachnids and insects; especially devourers.

Myrrha - Reaper and Pact Commander. Jovial despite everything and a little out of touch. Overly confident with herself at the worst of times. Came back a little glowier with some help from Grenth.

Ignatius - Blood Legion Fire Elementalist, ex- Flame Legion. Currently serves in Riaraff's warband; his recruitment severing the initial group.

Human

Mae - Guardian, raised in a family of Canthan engineers. Aided the Crystal Blooms in watching over Aurene.

Sying - Warrior, ex pseudo-herald of Balthazar. Currently works for the vigil.

Gerold - An engineer living in Divinity's Reach. Ran a simple family business before EVERYTHING else happened and he isn't very happy about the change in plans.

Tamir - Sunspear scourge that narrowly avoided being one of Joko's awakened. Trains and rides griffons.

Munir - Air elementalist that works among the Durmand Priory. Always charged with a current (he gives awful static shocks).

Norn

Hrani - Guardian, kind, soft-spoken but still an enthusiast of the hunt. Accompanied by his trusty springer, he travels around (preferably icy) mountainous regions.

Gunnhildr - Warrior, an older, talented fighter who's trained to watch over and travel through the mists. She mentors youth to follow in her footsteps.

Ingri- Revenant, Hrani's younger sibling and a student of Gunnhildr's. A handful to deal with and cocky to boot, but ultimately a talented fighter.

Dagrun - Engineer, worked to invent a method of shapeshifting that would be more efficient and last longer, though ended up accidentally permanently fusing herself with a cat instead while testing it. Carries the same air of aloofness expected from a cat.

Fjolmmod - Ranger, an older champion of the hunt who keeps to himself these days. Gunnhildr was an old hunting partner/rival of his, and they're still close friends.

Bardi - Mesmer, a budding scholar working within the Durmand Priory. Though he spends a fair amount of time keeping an eye on Munir on his escapades, he has his own studies to focus on.

Fridgeir - Ice Elementalist from a family fractured by loyalty towards Jormag. Though he takes himself a little too seriously, he's typically very reserved and not confident.

Asura

Dnulle - Guardian, following in her father's footsteps by studying golemancy and creating new variants of defensive golems. Polite, but very stubborn (and vengeful).

Pjug- Warrior, Dnulle's father. Before the divorce, he and his wife invented new golems together, though these days he specialises in manual piloting golems and upgrades to their designs. Undoubtedly, his sour attitude and refusal to admit wrongdoing led to their separation.

Phibba - Revenant, Dnulle's twin sister and Pjug's daughter. Has an air of refined elegance around her and prefers the finer things in life, like experimenting with the Inquest.

MNG0 (Mungo) - Engineer, an inventor of elixirs, explosives and firearms. Having an unhealthy level of confidence, she throws caution to the wind with her experiments. She considers Dagrun her assistant, partially being the cause of her condition, and the pair travel and experiment together.

Bhoppu - Ranger, spent most of her studies out in the Caledon forests and focuses on inventions that encourage symbiosis between asura and their environment, including new methods of cooperation with wildlife.

Dhippek - Mesmer, a notorious prankster with a terrible track record study-wise. He never ended up presenting his thesis and left to live amongst the skritt. He currently works for the Order of Whispers, being incredibly talented in the way of glamours and disguises; and not much else.

Lhil- Necromancer, a tiny, megalomaniacal reanimator with an overly dramatic manner. Though he's a talented necromancer, he's no lich, but he'll certainly act like one. Lhil's magic takes a toll on his body, and he often has to sacrifice health for power.

Ghossa - Earth Elementalist, and Bhoppu's granddaughter. Her inventions centred around sustainable agriculture and the betterment of crop output, and she spends her time teaching progeny about the elements and how to harness them.

Sylvari

Ainefinn - Guardian, a member of the Crystal Blooms and a good friend of Mae's. Typically cheerful and high-energy, and willing to go wherever the wind blows or her dream takes her.

Buchran - Bladesworn, borne of a different tree. He shows disdain for other sylvari's way of life and lived disguised amongst separatist bandits before Riaraff took him in. A very unorthodox cowboy.

Faolan - Revenant, an unknown creature in the Mists that manifested as the head of a sylvari once finally finding a way out. Mae's family built a body for them, and they've travelled with her, since. Has an air of robotic politeness about them, and a sense of curiosity about their world.

Briudris - Engineer, shrewd and analytical, working for the Vigil. Incredibly to the point and lacks patience for arguments or discussion, thus coming across as rude to those unaccustomed to him.

Calyseach - Thief, a trained assassin who takes her wyld hunt very seriously. She finds interacting with her peers rather awkward, and prefers to work on her own.

Sechnall- Ranger, his wyld hunt foretold the slaying of a dragon, and too intimidated to take up the call, he separated himself from the pale tree and the majority of his community. Disguised as a travelling human bard, he's made a reputation as quite the charmer and free spirit. His overgrown fern hound, Willow, follows him everywhere, with her own personal glamour.

Brychaen - Mesmer, the one who aided Sechnall in the creation of his glamour. Curiosity pointed him in the direction of Divinity's Reach, and he takes an interest in exploring other communities and cultures in a more personal manner. Though he frowns upon Sechnall's abandonment of his duties, he feels a certain level of responsibility towards him and considers him a friend.

Catan - Necromancer, once a firstborn, now a mordrem. One of the first to answer Mordremoth's call, he found little else important, having a colder, detached manner with his peers, coupled with a lack of respect.

Meretilde - Elementalist, with no specific preference (though she enjoys the combustive properties of fire). Her volatile attitude makes her an enjoyable companion, but not as reliable. She has an almost noble style and air about her, at least until the opportunity for action arises.

[pact-valkyrie]

bad posture queen resents her own redemption arc. more at 6

[heraldofaurene]

now mind you as someone who mainly has norn & charr characters my heart cries out for more & better content exploring the particular things i care about.

will the norn move north again now that Jormag is gone? what was it like for them to see other races (the charr and to a lesser extent the asura) ally with their ancient foe, and will that have consequences for international relations?

what’s up with the svanir- are they totally broken without Jormag, or is their concept of the Great Dragon Spirit broad and resilient enough to change? they’re unique among the dragon “minions” in that they have, by and large, chosen that path of their own free will, and even developed an entire ideology around it… so what becomes of a Jormag-less misogynistic dragon cult? (narratively, i think it would be interesting to see a faction break off and attempt to reconcile their beliefs with worship of aurene- likely clashing with the crystal bloom along the way).

what the fuck do the kodan think about all the meddling with the balance of the world that’s gone on lately? what will their philosophy make of aurene now?

how’s the whole post-civil war period going for the charr? this is a society whose traditional values around loyalty & authority have been seriously tested. one branch of the flame legion is being reintegrated & bringing with it old social tensions and totally different norms. iron and blood both have brand-new imperators. presumably there are now a shitton of ex-frost legion charr recovering from dragon corruption and trying to find a place as new beings in a radically reshaped society. how many gladia are there now, after war casualties and defections, and will their numbers change charr society? we got some hints in TIS as to the state of the treaty (treaties?) with kryta & ebonhawke, but how is that actually playing out?

anyway yeah. I Would Like to See More. but asura & sylvari probably deserve a turn in the spotlight first

[evilpol]

1, 8 & 9 - For Junav, and Arengar

12 for El

13 & 14 for Tayro

17 In General for the Universe of Many Cats

28 for Fenrar

(you ask for a lot so I hope this provides :>)

fdghjjhg thank you for asking dear <3

Arengar Hopebringer

1. Write a basic lowdown of your OC. What's their deal? Arengar is the Pact Commander (technically speaking, a Marshal nowadays but the title never stuck), a Vigil Warmaster and an ex (? it's complicated) Blood Legion soldier. Grandcub of Blood imperator, Bangar Ruinbringer, Arengar's been the perfect image of a young Blood soldier with a lot ahead of him, before losing his entire warband in a skirmish at Fields of Ruin. Young and scared, Arengar saw running away as a preferrable option, compared to facing the Legions tribunal and becoming a gladium, given the Legions' view of warbands' sole survivors and gladia as a whole, becoming a highwayman and eventually joining in with a gang of other charr, raiding nearby villages and robbing travelling caravans, until his group got stopped by a squad of Vigil soldiers put on the task. The leader of the squad noticed Arengar's combat prowess in an ensuing scuffle and saw that the young charr actually fights like he knows what he's doing, clearly having previous proper training, taking him in custody, asking him questions about how he ended up in that situation and eventually offering him a choice: he can be taken to a prison, sent back to face the Legions' tribunal and be judged as a deserter, or join in with the vigil and have his crimes be brushed away at the promise of service to the order. It's quite obvious which one Arengar picked. Serving in Vigil has been the best thing that has happened to Arengar for years, going through the ranks and eventually, as a Warmaster, getting involved with the creation of the Pact and becoming it's de-facto leader after the failure in the Heart of Maguuma. With Arren stepping down and leaving and Trahearne dead, Arengar was the highest-ranking Pact officer still remaining, having the duty of picking up the pieces of the Pact now all on his shoulders, which he dealt with... As well as he can, eventually embracing his new role as the Pact Commander and living up to his last name, Hopebringer. Yes he might play a little too hard into the whole Commander thing, barely letting himself be, well, himself, beyond being the commander, the hero, the leader, but it's a whole another wall of text to write.

8. Biggest strength and weakness? I'm going to kind of combine that one, since I like it when character's strengths are *also* their weaknesses, which is exactly the case with Arengar. His biggest strength is his determination, his willingness to do anything to reach his goals, he's laser-focused, if he's got his eyes on something, he's gonna get it sooner or later. However that's got a flip side of him often focusing on One Thing and lacking the big picture vision, being judgemental and having extreme difficulty letting go of the plans he built and ideals he's been having all his life, like accepting that killing the elder dragons is no longer the right solution and instead having to save Kralkatorrik in the Crystal Desert, let alone having to work with a dragon that is Aurene. Arengar is stubborn, hard to make change his mind and commanding, however he's also a great leader, willing to go any lengths for his people.

9. What do they THINK their biggest strength and weakness is? Arengar is a simple charr, quite proud of his combat prowess, seeing it as his biggest strength. Blood Legion training combined with years of service in Vigil sure do yield their results, that much is undeniable. On the opposite, he often sees himself weak for relying on other people a lot, building idols for himself out of others and sticking too hard to those ideals he's built in his head. Junav

1. Write a basic lowdown of your OC. What's their deal? Junav is an ex-olmakhan turned awakened soldier in Joko's army. Not out of being killed and awakened into his service mind you, but rather completely by the virtue of his own free will. Junav left Sandswept Isles as a young charr, growing on stories of the old legions, seeing them something to aspire to, unsatisfied with the simple life of Olmakhan. Junav always was a warrior, the biggest, strongest one in the village, growing bored just fighting off scarabs and an occasional sand lion. He loves to fight, loves the adrenaline cursing through his veins, loves the chaos of the battlefield, obsessed with pushing himself to the limit and becoming better, and the village life just couldn't provide it. After leaving for the mainland Elona, he served as a travelling bounty hunter for a couple of years, and taking down giant beasts for a reward satisfied him for a while, until his run-in with the Awakened army. Seeing them in action reminded Junav of the stories about the charr legions he heard as a cub: an unstoppable army, razing through the land, walking over their enemies' head. He wanted to be a part of a force like that. He joined in with them, first as a mercenary in free employ, soon as a full-time soldier. It's been everything Junav ever wanted: a solid military structure and more than enough opportunity to practice and hone his skills in a real battle, with oh so generously provided "target practice", until over the years he managed to climb all the way up to becoming a member in the Mordant Crescent, Joko's elite force. At some point during the years he got killed in a sunspear ambush, already gaining quite a lot of infamy in their ranks as a ruthless and horrifying enemy, but Sunspear celebrations didn't last long, as Junav got awakened at Archon Iberu's request, taking a revenge on the people who killed him in a bloody way, and they weren't coming back, unlike him. Junav's main deal is his obsession with bettering himself, willing to do anything to be a better fighter. He enjoys the violence, the battlefield, however he is not a mindless murder machine. He's got somewhat of a honor code, he's loyal to a fault and would never break his promise. Also despite what it might seem like, Junav surprisingly does not like fighting just for the sake of it. In his eyes, you should fight to better yourself, to push yourself to the limit and test your skill. Killing defenceless villagers is pointless in his eyes, it's too easy and does nothing to test his abilities, if he's fighting, he's fighting either because he was ordered to, or because he wants it, wants to try himself, to have fun.

8. Biggest strength and weakness? Junav's biggest strength is most likely his loyalty. He holds his word to his grave, serving whoever he swore his oath to with unbending determination, willing to serve and fight until he cannot hold his weapon anymore. On the flip side, his biggest weakness is likely his lack of strong morals. Junav has a code of honor, but his morals are flaky at best. He doesn't care about innocent people dying, just sees it as tasteless because they can't even put up much of a fight, where's the fun in that. Doesn't care about all the atrocities Joko and the Mordant Crescent have commited, only cares that he swore his oath to them, an oath he is going to follow up until Joko's death.

9. What do they THINK their biggest strength and weakness is? Junav doesn't like to think he even has a weakness. For his biggest strength, however, once again, being a warrior his entire life, having dedicated all of himself to it, his biggest strength is his combat abilities, and rightfully so. He takes great pride in how well he can fight, loves to spar, likes to take on a challenge, and nothing looks too big or hard to him.

Elmarenn

12. What's something they could talk about for hours at length? For all of his snark and sarcasm, surprisingly, El doesn't actually talk much. However, if asked, he can ramble about animals, especially fern hounds, for hours. He's a ranger and been working with fern hounds for ages while he's been living in the Grove, he knows them and he loves them. Alongside with having a guilty pleasure in romance novels, even if he finds Snargle's ones a little too crude for his taste.

Tayro

13. How recognizable are they? Do they have a reputation? Tayro has... A reputation in the Inquest, and it ain't exactly good one. I mean, hard to avoid having a reputation when you're literally injecting ley-line goop into yourself on a daily basis. His reputation is that of a group weirdo at best, and an insane, unstable and reckless threat at worst. Which is, hard to argue with, given most of Tayro's invention attempts ended up exploding, and his only successful one is slowly eating at his brain and all his internal organs, poisoning him with ley-magic. He's been contained to the job of a field operative, a bruiser meant to clean up Inquest's mess instead of working at a lab for a reason, even though most of his "clean-up" attemps result in even more mess than there was left before.

14. Are they actually good at fighting? Do they enjoy it? In terms of martial skill/weapon mastery, Tayro isn't actually that great, neither is he that gifted of an elementalist. However, it's hard to argue that ley-magic fueled elementalist abilities are quite dangerous and explosive, and it's exactly what happens every time he gets in a fight, and Tayro sure does enjoy it. Enjoys feeling like he's good at something, like he can have respect and be scary, even if that involves using outside elements like slurping up ley-line goop.

17. People with Commander ocs, is there any part of the main story where your oc's story diverges? Everyone else, is there a part of your oc's story that follows the canon one? There's actually not that much of divergence between the canon story and my universe, beyond adding a lot of extra characters as members of Commander's squad, and as a result a lot of the "roles" of the canonical Dragon's Watch being taken on by them. Good example: Teo being usually the one summoned to blow things up as opposed to Canach, along with being in command of the guild's airships. Another thing that does diverge is Arengar accepting Almorra's offer at the beginning of s3 and becoming Pact Marshal, instead of Logan getting the position. Arengar also isn't Aurene's champion, not in canonical way at least, with Caithe being the closest thing to Aurene's Champion in canon's understanding of it in my universe. There is no special magical connection between Arengar and Aurene, and instead of being picked as her champion while she still was in an egg, Arengar chooses to follow Aurene, work with her and serve as her 'Champion', having a relationship more reminding that of a young princess suddenly in charge of a nation and her trusted knight and bodyguard over a parent/child one. The underlying theme in my universe is people forging their own fate and choosing their way, fighting against all odds no matter what destiny or the world tells them, and Arengar choosing to be Aurene's knight is a big part of it.

Fenrar

28. What is their character arc, if they have one. Fenrar doesn't quite have a character arc, but the closest thing he has to one is slowly learning to care about people besides himself, as well as about the world as a whole, instead of only caring about his research and treating other people as pawns in it. Fenrar isn't actively malicious, but he's a reclusive researcher obsessed with his work and the Mists as a whole, he finds it extremely hard relating to people and their emotions, remaining somewhat distant from a lot of issues Commander's squad faces, even if technically he is a part of it.

[antariies]

Visions of the Past: The Departing

Summary: The Commander never told Braham about their first death at the hands of Balthazar. Years later, he finds out in the worst way possible.

Characters: Pact Commander, Braham, Aurene, Balthazar

Notes: Commander’s POV (2nd-person); set before Jormag Rising; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; 5.6k words, CW: blood, gore, character death, anxiety attack; the departing is and will always be one of my favorite instances and it sucks that we never got an emotional confrontation about it between braham and the commander. hope i did it justice. enjoy!

—

“Commander, can I use the Scrying Pool to view your memories?” Braham asks one day, apropos of nothing, sliding into the seat across from you.

You slam your glass of water back down onto the table with a loud smack, screwing your eyes shut and leaning forward as you choke on your drink. After a few seconds of intense coughing and waving away Braham’s apologies, you finally clear your throat enough to be able to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, squinting at him in confusion, “you want to… what?”

“Uh, use the Scrying Pool to view your memories?” he repeats, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Only with your permission, of course.”

“…Ah,” you nod slowly, letting the question fully sink in. You bring the glass of water to your lips again as you search for the right words. “That’s…”

A complete and total invasion of my privacy, your mind supplies helpfully.

“...a strange request,” you mutter into the cup. The only thing stopping you from shutting him down on the spot is the fact that it’s Braham. He wouldn’t ask this of you without a damn good reason. “And you want to see them because…?”

At this, Braham lights up, squaring his shoulders. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what the lost Spirits said. About how I need to be a better leader if I’m going to beat Jormag, y’know? So I figured, since you’re the best leader I know-”

You can’t help the fond eye roll you give him.

“-if I got to experience some of your memories, then maybe I could learn from them,” he finishes, nodding once in determination.

“It’s definitely an unconventional way of learning,” you remark coolly, resting your chin on your hand as you level an even, challenging stare at him. You’ve cowed countless soldiers and politicians with this look alone, honed to terrifying perfection over the years.

Undaunted, Braham sets his jaw and meets your gaze dead on. “I know nothing can replace first-hand experience, but I think this would be a good way for me to practice without, uh,” his eyes flicker down for just a moment and he swallows hard. “Without the risk.”

You quirk an eyebrow at that, but you don’t miss the way he absently fiddles with something small and wooden in his free hand and-

Oh, you think, recognizing it and finally understanding. Oh.

It’s been months, but the memory of your first day in Bjora Marches stays fresh in your mind.

It had been freezing cold in the barracks of Jora’s Keep when you and Braham had gotten locked in, but the ice that froze in your veins when you watched him stumble upon the mangled body of his former guildmate was colder still.

“Alva,” he’d whispered, stricken with grief as he sank to his knees beside her body.

“I’m sorry, Braham.” The words sat like ash on your tongue, tasting the same as the first time you had ever offered your condolences and every time after that. You never really got used to it.

“Garm… used to rest his head in her lap.” Braham had pulled her head into his lap then, smoothing her hair out of her face with the utmost care. You turned away to give him as much privacy you could, but the dead silence in the barracks meant you heard every hitched breath and muttered prayer to the Spirits. When he returned to your side after a few minutes, he was clutching a small wooden figurine.

“It’s Wolf,” he explained softly when he caught you looking, “Alva made one for each of us, but I gave mine back when I left, I… I had no idea she’d kept it all this time…”

.

.

.

He carries it everywhere now: a constant, physical reminder of his failures as a leader and as a friend.

You know the feeling all too well.

Unbidden, an acrid tidal wave of bitter jealousy swells up inside you. It’s not fair. You never had the chance to practice leadership because you were thrust into your rank, your title, in the middle of a war. You had no one to guide you. Every lesson you learned was written in blood and people paid for your mistakes with their lives.

The wave reaches a roaring apex, then swiftly crashes and breaks against the rocks of your guilt and better judgement.

It’s not his fault, you tell yourself, that you were given the short end of the stick. If you had had the opportunity to practice, to learn from someone else’s mistakes without risking the lives of anyone under your command, wouldn’t you have taken it too?

Of course, you think, picturing the Pact Memorial that still stands in Caer Aval to this day, of course I would have.

“Of course,” you say, gaze and voice gentle, “I think that’s a great idea, Braham.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting- wait, what? Really?” He stares at you incredulously, the beginnings of a disbelieving grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Are you sure? Because I honestly didn’t think you would say yes so-”

“Well, now that you mention it,” you start mildly, before stifling a snort and shaking your head in amusement as he scrambles to retract his words. “Yes, Braham, I’m sure. C’mon, let’s go before I actually start having second thoughts.”

As he helps you clean up the remains of your lunch, you can’t stop your mind from dredging up every embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in the past eight years. You shut your eyes in a fruitless attempt at blocking out the memories, a long-suffering sigh trapped in your lungs.

It’s okay, you reassure yourself, you’ll be in control of the memories you show him. What could go wrong?

.

.

.

“Hey, Aurene- oh. She’s not here.” Braham says, stopping at the entrance of Aurene’s lair.

You walk past him, a smile stretching across your face as you look around the room. It teems with plant life. Curtains of ivy hang from the tops of the room’s arches while giant Maguuma lilies and dozens of other flowers grow out of cracks in the floor, reaching toward the sunbeams that stream in from the open skylight. Clusters of Aurene’s iridescent Brand crystals cover the walls, filling in the holes left by years of neglect.

In the middle of the room, the Scrying Pool gives off a faint light of its own, its waters swirling lazily as you approach. The spot where Aurene normally sits is vacant, though, just like Braham said. Closing your eyes, you reach out to the bond you share with her. It hums at the edge of your consciousness, quiet and comfortable when you’re not actively talking to her. You give the slightest tug.

‘Just checking in. Where are you?’

A few moments later, a familiar sight flashes in your mind. A vast stormy sky, filled with blue-tinted thunderclouds and stretching as far as the eye can see. The Mists.

Then, Aurene’s voice in your head, clear as day. ‘Trying to figure out what Jormag is up to. So far… I still have no idea.’

“Are you talking to Aurene?” Braham asks. You nod. “Tell her I said hi!”

‘Braham says hi.’ you relay.

‘Hello, Braham!’

‘Alright, we’ll let you get back to it.’ You smile inwardly, a rush of affection warming your chest. ‘Be safe. I love you.’

‘Love you too, Champion.’ Aurene croons happily in your head.

“Aurene says hello,” you say, opening your eyes. “She’s keeping an eye out for Jormag in the Mists right now. I don’t think she’ll be back for a while.”

“Oh,” Braham says, slight disappointment coloring his tone, “Does that mean we can’t use the pool?”

“I’m not sure. Wouldn’t hurt to try, though,” you answer, walking over to it. Kneeling as close to the edge as you dare, you lean over to look into the waters. Your reflection wobbles with every ripple from the pool’s constant, self-sustained swirling and you study your distorted face until you catch some movement above your mirrored shoulder that doesn’t seem to be from the pool.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warn lightly, tossing a flat, unimpressed glare over your own shoulder.

Braham, to his credit, looks sorry for maybe half a second before grinning in a way that is decidedly far from it. Still, he concedes and backs away from you with his hands slightly up in surrender. “Oh, like you wouldn’t do the same?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I would never,” you lie, turning back to the pool so he doesn’t see your smile. You make a note to push him into it at the first chance you get. “I’ve used the Scrying Pool a few times now and I can tell you that it’s way easier to view your own memories rather than someone else’s. Feels different too.”

When you first used the Scrying Pool to view Ryland’s memories, it wasn’t anything like Kas’ glamour during the All-Legion Rally. You weren’t just wearing his face and spectating from inside his head, you were Ryland. You felt everything, including his thoughts and his emotions, as if they were your own. It had felt so real that after waking up, it took a few seconds for you to realize that you weren’t him. Aurene had to calm you down as you scrambled around for a flamesaw that was never yours and shouted for a warband you were never a part of.

You can only imagine the state you would have woken up in if you had overstayed your welcome in Ryland’s memories.

It was different with yours, though. Those were easier to fall into, like slipping into a dream, and you always woke up from those with complete clarity.

Speaking of your own memories…

“I think I know the perfect one to start with,” you say, dipping a hand into the pool and focusing on a memory you’ve already used it for. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to access a memory without Aurene here, never mind control it. You don’t even know if two people can go in together, or whose body Braham would end up in. So you start off easy. Something you both remember. The leather of Braham’s armor creaks as he settles down next to you and does the same. He watches on in awed silence as the water glows brighter, swirling faster and faster until a small whirlpool forms in the center and pulls at the lily pads closest to it.

A familiar darkness crowds the edge of your vision and you let yourself fall backwards into the memory.

.

.

.

It’s not hard to spot Braham when his blood-red hair contrasts so starkly against the bright, white snow that covers the land and comes down heavy from the sky.

That, and he’s also waving at you from where he stands outside the gates of Cragstead.

“Hey!” he greets once you’re in earshot, shouting over the wind, “Hey, thanks for coming.”

You glance around. “Just us, huh?”

Braham grimaces. “You heard what Brimstone and Whitebear said. I tried sending out notices too, but…” he shakes his head, determination hardening his features. “Nevermind that, we have to go. My friends are in there.”

Turning your eyes upwards, you catch sight of billowing plumes of dark smoke as they start to pour into the sky. A strong gust brings the stench downwind and both you and Braham wrinkle your noses in distaste at the same time.

“No time to waste,” you nod. “Let’s go.”

You tighten your grip on your weapons and follow closely behind Braham as he leads you through the driving snow to the heart of Cragstead, cutting a path through the strange alliance of Flame legion and dredge along the way.

This is an evacuation mission, first and foremost, you remind yourself. Your gaze sweeps over the empty lodges and homesteads, searching for people. It’s not so different from the evacuation missions you used to do with your order when Zhaitan was still alive and a threat, its Risen minions encroaching further and further into the homes of Tyria’s minor races.

You find the villagers soon enough, all rounded up into small groups in the center of the town and trapped inside shimmering domes of fire magic. An equal number of charr and dredge guard each dome, their mechanical weapons whirring and spitting the occasional flame.

Braham growls at the sight and hefts his mace, rolling his shoulders in anticipation.

“Wait,” you caution, throwing an arm out to stop him from charging in. “We can’t just rush in. We’re way outnumbered.”

“We took care of those other guys just fine,” he argues.

“Those were just stragglers we picked off,” you gesture at the domes scattered around. “Here? There’s a dozen of them and only two of us. We can’t take them all in an open fight-”

Braham makes a frustrated noise and you hold up your hand.

“-which is why we switch tactics,” you finish, flashing a sharp grin at him. “They haven’t noticed us yet. Here’s the plan.”

The thing is, you’re no stranger to being outnumbered. Your entire time in Orr was spent leading handfuls of people on high risk, high reward missions, after all. It was kind of your specialty.

So it’s with practiced ease and calm authority that you explain your plan now, laying out a classic divide-and-conquer strategy that’s gotten you and your small squads through countless skirmishes against all odds.

It’s a flawless ambush, all things considered.

You and Braham hit them hard and quick, fighting in tandem as you push the offensive and give them no time to react or warn their allies before you cut them down. And with the help of his protective guardian magic, you two manage to free everyone without a single casualty.

“Where are the others?” Braham asks immediately as he helps an older man to his feet.

Despite his clearly injured arm, the man pulls him into a quick hug before answering. “They were chased up the mountain, to the shrine. I wasn’t- I wasn’t fast enough…”

“It’s okay, Haslo, I’ll go. Will you be-”

“We’ll be fine, thanks to you.” Haslo claps him on the back. “You and your friend be careful!”

When Braham looks over at you, you nod. Of course I’m coming with you.

The trip up to the shrine is shorter than you expected, but you think that might have something to do with the lack of flaming charr or dredge along the way. That only puts you more on edge and you ready your weapons, wary.

You don’t hesitate for a second at the entrance of the cave, charging in to catch the massive Flame legion charr and his grunts off guard. You’ve only known Braham for a few days and fought alongside him for less, but you two fall into a steady rhythm almost instantly, barely having to exchange words. You make quick work of the goons, letting him take care of the hulking charr. Braham doesn’t even let him get a taunt out, stunning him with a shield bash before swinging his mace into the charr’s snout with a brutal, deadly uppercut, spraying blood across the cavern walls.

With the threat taken care of for the time being, you and Braham free the rest of the villagers and escort them down the mountain, dispatching any stray Flame legion or dredge who tried to escape in all the chaos. While there weren’t any casualties, fortunately, there are still plenty injured, so while he talks to some of the other villagers, you help tend to the wounded as best you can. They have a long walk to Hoelbrak ahead of them, and you don’t envy them the trip.

You’re tying off a bandage when you hear him call your name.

“There you are,” he says, stopping in front of you. “Hey, thanks for everything. Really, I mean, I don’t know if things would’ve turned out as well as they did if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Glad I could help,” you say, tilting your head at him. “What are you going to do now?”

“After we get everyone to Hoelbrak, I’m gonna find out where all these Flame legion and dredge are holed up so we can track them down.” He pauses, then rubs the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “Uh, that is, if you still wanna come along…?”

You smile and cross your arms. “Guess I’ll see you soon, then?”

The pleased grin Braham gives you is warmer than any hearth and twice as bright.

“See you soon!”

.

.

.

“Oh no,” Braham mutters, the first thing you hear as you blink away the last of the memory. “Oh, Spirits, noooo.”

“Something wrong?” you ask, keeping your voice light even as you eye him up and down in concern. It was his first time using the Scrying Pool, after all. Had it affected him differently?

He shakes his head. “No, I’m fine, I just… I just can’t believe I used to wear my hair like that.”

You keep a straight face for an admirable three whole seconds before bursting into snickers. When Braham groans and buries his face in his hands, you only laugh harder.

“For what it’s worth,” you say, smiling, “I thought it suited you.”

He glowers at you. “You’re just saying that.”

You make a non-committal noise and wiggle your hand in a “so-so” gesture. He groans again, falling backwards onto the floor.

“That was really cool,” he says after a while, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. “Being in your head, I mean. I felt so… in control the whole time. Like I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself.” Leaning backwards on your hands, you tip your head back and close your eyes. “You were impatient—well, you still kind of are—but you handled yourself better than some soldiers twice your age. And you’ve only gotten better since then. Give yourself a little more credit, Braham.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him flush at the praise, sitting up abruptly.

“Thanks,” he coughs into his fist, fighting a grin. “So, uh, any more memories you feel like sharing?”

You hum. “Several, actually. Ready to go again?”

.

.

.

You, grabbing the handles of a cannon with both hands and holding on for dear life as The Glory of Tyria lurches to the side, sending Destiny’s Edge, Pact soldiers, and Risen alike sprawling flat on the deck. When the airship finally rights itself, you waste no time, bracing your shoulder against the cannon and shoving hard until you have Zhaitan directly in its sights. The Elder Dragon is on the verge of death, pieces of its own body sloughing off itself as it clings desperately to the side of the tower. You take a deep, steadying breath and fire.

You, the only thing standing in between a crowd of fleeing civilians and a swarm of cutthroat Aetherblade pirates as they drop down from their airships. Lion’s Arch can be rebuilt, but lives can’t be replaced. You do a quick headcount, zero in on the weakest-looking one, and leap into the fray.

You, tracking down your teammates one by one as you tear through the dark, vine-twisted labyrinth under the Silverwastes, an undying behemoth of a Mordrem wolf hot on your heels. You lead them all safely through the maze, driven by the fierce desire to protect your friends. You will not lose anyone today.

You, the legendary Pact Commander, at your best.

After a few back-to-back trips down memory lane, you both decided to take a short break. For his part, Braham had opted to swing his legs over the edge of the pool, dipping his feet in. When he asked whether or not it was okay to do so, you just shrugged and told him you had already cannonballed into the water before. Multiple times.

“How are you feeling? No headaches or anything?” you ask after a few minutes of rest.

“Nope. I do feel pretty commander-y, though.”

You snort. “Commander-y?”

“Mhm. I’ve been in your head too long. Any second now, I’m gonna start spouting a bunch of your expert advice.” Braham clears his throat and puts on an exaggerated voice that you swear sounds nothing like you. “‘Remember, it doesn’t matter how long the hog’s been dead. It doesn’t matter that it’s been sitting in a toxic cloud. You can always try to eat it.’”

You roll your eyes and swipe your hand through the water, splashing him. “Okay, that’s it, I’m revoking your pool privileges. We’re done here.” You pause, expression turning thoughtful. “Actually, I think we are done here. I don’t think I have any more memories to show you. None that would help, anyway.”

“Hmm, what about your time in Elona? I wasn’t there for that.”

“Uh, you definitely were,” you say, shooting a quizzical smile at him. “Or do you not remember storming Joko’s palace with me?”

“No, no,” Braham laughs, waving dismissively, “I meant before that. I wasn’t there for… ugh, what’s his name again? Balthazar?”

For a brief, blissful moment, you only recall the part where you killed him.

Then your free hand flies to your chest on instinct, ghosting over a wound that no longer exists.

“What about him?” you ask, a little louder than necessary. You cringe inwardly, but Braham doesn’t seem to notice.

“Well, everyone told me you somehow took control of Joko’s Awakened army and got them to fight on your side,” he shakes his head, chuckling. “I didn’t believe them at first, but that sounds exactly like something only you could pull off.”

You can hardly hear yourself over the frenetic pounding of your pulse in your ears. “Did they… tell you anything else?”

“Not really,” Braham frowns, finally turning to face you. “Why, is there- woah, hey, are you alright?”

You open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.

“Commander?” His voice spikes with worry.

Swallowing hard past the lump in your throat, you try again. Still nothing.

You’re so preoccupied with trying to force yourself to speak that you don’t even realize your other hand is still in the pool until you feel the tug of an old memory on your consciousness.

Ripping your hand out of the glowing water in a panic, you can only stare in horror as that does nothing to stop the ancient, powerful magic from pulling you helpless back into the dark.

.

.

.

Everything hurts.

You wish it would stop.

It doesn’t.

You throw yourself to the side, narrowly dodging a fireball as it blazes past your head. Ducking behind a crumbling pillar, you press your back up against the stone and try to catch your breath.

You’ve bought yourself some time, at least.

This is a fight you know you can’t win, but the walls of flames surrounding the spire prevent your escape, so your only hope is to keep Balthazar distracted until reinforcements arrive.

“Any second now,” you mutter, and you don’t know if you’re trying to reassure or convince yourself.

You grit your teeth as another wave of pain wracks your body. There’s a nasty gash in your side, larger and deeper than the rest of your cuts, and it oozes sluggishly, soaking your armor in blood.

It’s bearable for now, but you can’t afford to be slowed down.

“Are you hiding, Commander?” Balthazar sneers, “How pathetic.”

Your answer to that is to dart out from behind the pillar, launching a flurry of attacks along his flank and back. When he twists around to send a volley of fireballs your way, you just tuck yourself into a neat dodge-roll, avoiding them all with ease. If you wince and stumble on the landing, you pretend not to notice and hope he didn’t either.

“Aw, you missed!” you taunt, sounding way braver than you feel, “How pathetic!”

Balthazar’s face contorts in fury. “Enough!” he shouts, and both the flames surrounding him and the spire seem to burn hotter than ever.

Before you can react, the ground beneath your feet erupts in a column of fire and you scream as your world is engulfed in a white-hot inferno. When the initial blinding agony finally passes, you find yourself sprawled out on the ground, pointed stones digging into your back and your weapons flung too far out of your reach.

Get up.

You only manage to twitch your fingers.

Get up. Now.

Your throat burns raw. When you try to speak, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a pained whimper.

GET. UP. BEFORE BALTHAZAR-

You sense Aurene before you see her.

“Ah, the scion, finally come here to defend her champion.”

Finally…?

It clicks. Your heart stops.

Balthazar’s been toying with you this whole fucking time.

It’s impossible for you to form words, let alone make any sort of loud noise, so you try to warn Aurene through your shared bond instead, panic rising with every passing moment that she doesn’t respond.

‘GET AWAY,’ you practically roar at her, ‘TRAP. IT’S A TRAP. YOU’RE FLYING RIGHT INTO A TRAP, TURN AROUND, PLEASE-’

And Aurene roars right back at you. There are no words you can hear—you don’t think she’s old enough for that yet—but she can convey her feelings through the bond and right now she’s drowning out your desperate warnings with them. She refuses to abandon you. You are her guardian and her champion and she loves you and you promised over and over to protect her so she promised the same and weren’t you the one who taught her about loyalty in the first place?

It takes one self-sacrificing idiot to know one. You would laugh if you weren’t so fucking terrified of losing her.

Your vision swims and you only catch glimpses of Aurene’s skirmish. She’s a bright blue blur, swerving expertly in the air as she dodges fireballs and lets loose her devastating dragon breath every time Balthazar tries to swat her out of the sky. Snarling, he launches some sort of phantasmal chains at her and-

No.

No, no, no, nonono-

“Aurene!” you scream. The exertion sends you into a coughing fit, but you don’t care.

You’re crying now, too. You don’t care.

Balthazar is saying something, but you stopped listening to him ages ago. It’s a monumental effort just to crane your head towards Aurene, your vision clearing long enough to see her staring at you, eyes blown wide in fear as terror rolls off her in waves.

She tries to apologize and you rush to soothe her.

‘It’s okay, it’s alright,’ you reassure, ‘you have nothing to be sorry for, I love you so much, it’s not your fault, never your fault.’

Maybe you’re projecting a little. Whatever.

You only stop when a giant metal boot steps squarely into your line of sight, blocking her from view. You glance up.

Balthazar towers over you, his giant, flaming greatsword hovering menacingly by his side.

The fear that lances through your gut is primal.

You can’t die yet. Not here. Not now.

He notices the way your wide eyes trace his sword and bares his teeth in a humorless grin. Oh, he’s enjoying this, relishing the power he has over you.

“I thought you would put up more of a fight, given your reputation,” Balthazar remarks casually, circling you. With a lazy wave of his hand, his sword floats over and suspends itself in midair right above your chest.

Your already labored breathing dissolves into short, shallow gasps.

You can’t die. You’re not ready.

He lets the sword hover for a few more seconds before grabbing the hilt with both hands, raising it higher over your body. His face twists with hate, eyes blazing molten gold as they bore hungry and vengeful into yours.

You don’t want to die.

The edge of the blade glints orange from an indifferent sunset.

Please.

There’s a sickening crunch as he swings it down hard into your chest, punching through your armor and sternum and crushing most of your ribcage in the process. Then the blade severs your spine and you lose all feeling in your lower body.

Distantly, you think you hear someone scream, high-pitched and anguished. Was that Aurene? Or Taimi? Maybe both.

Certainly not you, although you’d tried to. What remains of your lungs are filled with more blood than air at this point, and it pours out of your mouth when you open it.

I’m sorry, you think, but you can’t remember what you’re apologizing for. Or who you’re apologizing to.

You’re so tired of blood. Tired of pain. Tired of feeling.

Everything hurts.

You wish it would stop.

It does.

.

.

.

The only reason you don’t wake up choking back a scream and clutching your chest like Braham does is because you’ve relived this in your nightmares far too many times for it to rip that kind of reaction out of you anymore. Still, it takes you longer than normal to push yourself into a sitting position and even longer for your pulse to even out. Fighting the urge to curl up and disappear from the world, you rush over to where Braham sits hyperventilating.

“Hey, Braham, hey, look at me, you’re okay, you’re okay. You’re here, you’re alive,” you reassure, and you’re surprised at how calm you sound. You work on getting him to match your breaths, counting out every inhale and exhale.

“Oh, Spirits,” he chokes out after his breathing steadies, his voice nearly cracking as tears prick in the corners of his eyes, “that was… how- h-how did you survive that?”

Your mouth shuts with an audible click. Biting your tongue, you look to the side, carefully avoiding eye contact.

You could lie.

Lie and tell him the airship made it just in time and the medics brought you back from the brink with a miracle. Another close call, but you pulled through like you always do. Spare him the pain, the grief. It’s been years, and there are more important things to worry about right now. It would save you both so much trouble.

“Commander?” he asks softly, earnestly.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I didn’t,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

Deafening silence, for a beat.

Two.

Three.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Braham says eventually. When you finally bring yourself to look at him again, his brows are furrowed in confusion. He stares at you in concern, scrutinizing. “You’re… definitely still alive.”

“I sure am.” Neither of you miss the tired bitterness that bleeds into your sarcasm. You wince and sigh, running a hand over your face. “I’m sorry, it’s just… It’s a long story.”

And to this day, you still haven’t told anyone all the details. You’re not sure if you ever will.

“Who knows?” Braham asks.

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, Rytlock, Canach, and Kas were there when it happened. Taimi… overheard.” You don’t know which is worse: being the one to hear you die, or finding your body after the fact.

They’re not the only ones who know, but they’re the only ones who matter. Even then, you swore them all to secrecy.

“Taimi called me around that time,” he says.

Your eyes widen. “Did she…?”

Braham shakes his head. “She was crying too hard,” he says, speaking slowly as he focuses on remembering. “She said something about you, but she couldn’t get the words out. When I tried to ask her what was wrong, she just hung up on me. Then she called me back a day later to say it was nothing and to pretend it never happened.”

“Huh,” you say, because you can’t think of anything else.

“I always wondered what she was trying to tell me,” Braham smiles sadly at you. “Guess I know now.”

You swallow hard. “You’re… taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”

“I’m not the one who died,” he shrugs, even as his hand comes up to brush across his chest absentmindedly.

But you know how it felt, you think, How I felt.

The thought hangs in the air, unspoken.

“Are you okay?” Braham asks after a while.

“Yeah,” you answer quickly, automatically, “I’m fine.”

He raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Are you sure?” He looks pointedly down and you follow his gaze.

Your hands are shaking where they rest in your lap. Gritting your teeth, you clench them into fists. They don’t stop.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, more to yourself than anything. “I’m fine.”

The shaking travels up your arms until your shoulders are trembling as if under an invisible weight. This is so embarrassing, so humiliating. You’re pathetic. You-

You don’t resist when Braham pulls you into a warm embrace.

“It’s been years,” you mutter, blinking rapidly against the itchy heat behind your eyes. “I thought I’d be over it by now.”

“It always hits you when you least expect it,” Braham says quietly, “I’m sorry, Commander.”

The noise that comes out of you is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. You know he knows you hate pity, but this is the farthest thing from it. “When did you get so wise?” you tease.

“Learned it from you,” he says, voice tinged with pride, and now it’s your turn to flush. He squeezes you tightly once before letting you go. “Are you okay?” he asks again.

“Yeah,” you say, and this time you mean it. You breathe in deep, feeling lighter than you have in ages. “I’m okay. Thank you, Braham.”

“Glad to hear it,” he grins, and promptly shoves you right into the Scrying Pool.

His boisterous laughter echoes off the walls and drowns out your indignant spluttering. When you pull yourself out of the pool, drenched and dripping water everywhere, he scrambles to his feet and breaks into a dead sprint down the hall.

You chase after him, smiling, and leave your memories behind you.

[knight-of-the-thorn]

character bingo ask! :) vlast and crecia, if you'd like? @kerra-and-company

Sorry for the wait there, very interesting pair these two!

So the main reason I did not put wasted potential here is I think the setup and delivery of everything that makes Vlast tragic is done very well in the short period of time that it has. Because one of the main things that's tragic about Vlast IS the fact we never got to know him. Aurene had a brother, but she never got to see him. She never knew him. And maybe they both wouldn't have been so lonely if they had that chance.

He's what Aurene could have turned out like. He's what I hope Aurene will never have to be. Two hundred years and the only ones you manage to make a meaningful connection with are ones who are only concerned with the function you're meant to serve, yet always was told he wasn't ready. Never truly empathizing with those you're meant to protect, yet he cares for his family so he continues to fight. He sacrificed himself for someone that his sister cared for, even when he hadn't met her. I think that tells you everything you need to know about him.

Truth be told, going through Vlast's memory crystals is the moment I actually realised just how invested I'd gotten in the story, because it genuinely just made my heart ache, and I couldn't stop thinking "we cannot let this happen to Aurene". It resonated with me as a storybeat a lot.

Anyways I'm a sucker for Champion of Vlast Aus. Glint owes me child support I stole her daughter I'm coming for her son next and I aim to collect motherfuckers.

Yeah Crecia's pretty cool I feel like meeting her really explains a lot about Rytlock. She generally seems like she has a lot more common sense than most of the people the commander works with, she was emotionally involved in the situation in Icebrood, but she was also correct about the best course of action at every point. Like, she did try to pull both Bangar and Ryland back, but was able to accept when they had gone too far and take decisive action. You even see some of that come through in the Requiem piece where she's first mentioned, when Rytlock takes sohothin, she stabs him so she can keep her cover. Her emotional involvement and stake in a situation is always clear, but it's never a detriment.

Overall, good character, great backstory, always a delight to see would love to have her back. Would love to see the other members of stone.

[thief-commander]

Oxalis bossfight! Potentially together with Trahearne?

This is going to be fun

I can imagine Oxalis being a legendary raid boss fight. His theme would be something orchestral, epic, and dynamic, something like this (but an extended version).

His name would be displayed like “Oxalis, Warden of the Cycle”. 

His boss arena would look something like the Grove, a huge platform in a tree with branches and roots forming a wall around it.

Oxalis is a warrior, he uses sword/torch and rifle and applies conditions (bleed, torment, burning), so condi cleanse is important. The fight would consist of 4 phases. 

Phase 1:

Oxalis fights melee-style, using his sword to perform a variety of  quick swings while his opponents are in close range (he focuses the tank of course). These attacks inflict bleeding and torment. As soon as they get mid-range, he uses his torch in his left to blow fire at them, leaving the ground burning in a fan shape in front of him (similar to that Legendary Wyvern attack in GW2). He also has a leap attack, which is used to close the range between him and his opponent and has a knockdown effect.

Phase 2: 

After Oxalis gets to 66% health, roots start to rise up from the ground in the arena. He disappears from the arena and appears on one of the branches overlooking the arena. He takes out his rifle and starts summoning allies. The players only have to fight one ally at once, but they are all Champions with a lot of health and different movesets. While they fight, Oxalis targets one of them from time to time and shoots a projectile that insta kills the player. To avoid this, the targeted player has to hide behind a root. After Oxalis shoots it, the root disappears and is put on cooldown before it appears again. The champions he summons are the following: Caithe, Crystal Bloom of Night (condi thief), Nash, Shadow of the Champion (sylvari, power staff daredevil), Gorsedd, Mender of Thorns (sylvari, power reaper) and Midhir, Mistwalker (sylvari, condi renegade). 

Phase 3:

After the players subdue all of the champions, Oxalis switches back to sword/torch and returns to the arena with the “Furious” status effect, which basically means that his damage and the range of his fire attacks are increased. Now the fan-shaped fire attack has the visual effect of Balthazar’s flames (a hint that the Commander might have absorbed some of his magic after Balth’s death) and covers a quarter of the arena, so stacking  and dodging is recommended. He uses this attack regardless of how far players are from him.

Phase 4:

At 33% health, Oxalis calls upon Aurene and does a full-platform aoe that you have to block/dodge (it’s not insta kill, but does damage and can down players). The fight continues as before, but this time Aurene supports Oxalis, performing flying attacks that leave a flame trail that damages players.  At 10% Trahearne appears at the side of the arena and is heard talking to Oxalis, attempting to calm him down, but he does not join the fight. 

When Oxalis gets to 1%, he falls to his knees and gives up, asking the players to stop. The players don’t actually kill him or the champions in this encounter, they just subdue them. After the encounter, Oxalis’ name turns green and the players can have a conversation with him.

[the-shiniest-plant]

OC Interview: Fionnuala

Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!

(I was tagged by @uselessidiotsquad and @thoseofuswhoblossom! Hi, guys!)

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

- Hi! I’m Fionnuala, Nuala to friends, family, and anyone who finds my name difficult to pronounce. I’m a member of the Crystal Bloom, one of Aurene’s Champions, former Slayer of the Order of Whispers, former Warden, and Maker of Friends! Nice to meet you all!

What is your Gender Identity, Orientation, and Relationship Status?

- Cisgender Female, Panromantic Demisexual, and Single. Turns out not a lot of people want to date someone who’s dragon-branded… which I can understand.

When and where were you born?

- I was born in the Grove about…. Five minutes after midnight… sometime in the Season of the Phoenix, in… 1310! Yeah, that’s about right. I can’t remember what day, but the day doesn’t really matter to Sylvari more than the time of day, so… I guess it makes sense. Does that answer your question well enough? Yes? Good! What’s next?

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

- I fight with two longswords - one in each hand - and though I’m heavily armored I can and prefer to jump in and out of the Dream like most Revenants do the Mists in order to get the drop on my foes. I do use hammers from time to time when I need to hit something far away that I can’t get to. Though, most of all, I like to use the magic of Aurene to lend support to my allies in battle - regeneration, strength, cunning… though I can’t do that too much or it wears me out. Still makes me happy knowing my allies may have survived because of these gifts.

Lastly, are you happy?

- Well, I’m as happy as my current life situation allows me to be. I know I could be happier, if I had different circumstances, but right now I feel like I’m… content at the very least - my brother is safe, my Mother is getting healthier by the day, and I’m always willing to answer Aurene’s call to service. I’m a bit lonely, in all honesty, when apart from my friends in Rurikton, but for now I’m okay with that - I figure when the right person for me comes along, I won’t be so lonely anymore.

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

- I have a pod-brother, Sitheach! He’s a wonderful person, and I love him dearly. We’re very close, and we write to one another all the time when he’s on missions for the Pale Reavers, just to keep each other posted on current situations. He’s been home for a bit now, which is a blessing. His boyfriend misses him terribly when he’s away so seeing them back together warms my sparkly little heart!

Have you ever run away from home?

- Nope! I’ve been called everywhere I’ve been, so technically I haven’t “run away” from anything.

Would you consider marriage or having children?

- Well, marriage is a foreign concept to Sylvari, as is childbirth, but I would absolutely love a partner, and would certainly adopt orphaned children of other races if my partner was also okay with raising them, as I highly doubt with my duties as a Champion of Aurene would allow me to effectively raise a child alone. I like to think I’d be a good mother, though.

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

- Pfffft, what kind of a question is that!? Why on Tyria would you call someone a friend if you secretly hated them? How silly!

Which friend knows everything about you?

- The only people on Tyria that know all about me are my brother, and my best friend Elspeth. That being said, I’m rather open to questions so if you see me in public and want to know more about a specific sliver of my life, just ask! I’ll do my best to answer.

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

- I can definitely read and write, as most if not all Sylvari can do that from emergence, and… does the Dream count as schooling? I know learning from Mentors does, but I feel like I learned more from the Dream than I ever did from my mentor - sorry, Maeryn, but it’s true!

What’s the eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

- I don’t think I’ve made any predictions like that, it’d be handy if I could, though… I wish I could’ve predicted the attack on the Grove during the World Summit… if we were prepared… maybe, just maybe Mother wouldn’t have been so grievously injured…

What is something that you were embarrassingly late in realizing?

- I partially understood how the other races weren’t born from pods, but what I didn’t know was the process of mammalian conception and live birth, until a kind Asura explained it to me during a stay in Divinity’s Reach. Hi, Quizz! Hope you’re well!

Do you have mental health or physical issues?

- Hoo boy, where to start… Anxiety and a bit of depression, mostly. Not being on the scene in time to help defend mother during the Shadow of Mordremoth’s attack… it really hit my self-esteem, so now, whenever I’m too late to save an innocent life, it… it haunts me for days…

What is your current main goal?

- My current goal is to protect the people of Tyria and help them in whatever way I can. It may or may not be a compulsion that I get from being Branded, but I’d likely do that anyway without the compulsion, so it works out.

Choices

Drinks or food?

- Drinks! Nothing like a good glass of Nectar after a long day of doing good things!

Cats or dogs?

- Dogs. Sylvan hounds. Specifically the puppies... I need to visit Danador’s Kennel again!

Early bird or night owl?

- Definitely a Night Owl! Which makes sense because of my Cycle. I thrive in the Evenings!

Optimist or Pessimist?

- My friends have never known me to be anything but optimistic in all my endeavors, and I certainly don’t plan to stop now!

Sassy or Sarcastic?

- Ooh, hard choice… they both have their merits… can I say “both”? Is that okay? I honestly can’t choose with this one!

Have you ever…

Been caught sneaking out?

- Of a Nightmare Camp? Yes. On several occasions, actually. I got a lot better at not being caught after I joined the Order of Whispers. Mostly because I didn’t have Ellie to help distract my foes so I could make an escape, if I was caught. Which I wasn’t! Not after Whispers.

Broken a bone?

- Never! Not even during Dragonstorm! Rather lucky on that front, my Priory friend lost her whole arm! Hi, Vledda!

Received flowers?

- No. Grown several myself, though.

Ghosted someone?

- Like, turned them into a ghost? Probably several people.

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

- Oh, plenty, when I was a sapling. I understood humor more and more as I kept living.

And there you have it! I tag @moonlit-grove again because I want Sitheach Lore, dang it!

[crimmson]

ok anyway here’s integris’s shit kinda scratched out. i have to actually catch up on the living story, the last thing I got to was caithe becoming aurene’s bestie

Integris doesn’t really have a wyld hunt or calling of any sort. like a lot of sylvari, she does sort of look up to the firstborn so when rumor spreads that the sylvari are immune to zhaitan’s influence and that Trahearne is building a coalition to travel to Orr and cleanse it, she’s like  “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i’m not doing anything else” and joins up with the Pale Reavers detachment within the Pact. Gets trained, finds out she’s pretty good at shooting stuff, war is scary but feels like she’s kinda found her groove, and they’re doing the right thing. (There was a theory at the time that maybe the sylvari were a sort of natural defense that Tyria was developing to fight back against the dragon minions, so at the time it was like ‘maybe this is what i’m meant to be doing? maybe this is what a wyld hunt is?)

Zhaitan dies, Integris flits around with the rest of the Pale Reavers, everything is hunky-dory until Mordremoth starts waking up. there’s probably a general air of uncertainty among all the sylvari as mordremoth is waking up but before the actual reveal. I have to imagine they’re hearing or feeling his influence at least a little, even if they have no idea what it actually is.

The actual Pact insertion into the jungle and immediate destruction of the airships sends everything straight to hell. Former squadmates suddenly no longer trust the sylvari, the sylvari can’t even fully trust each other, and they’re forced to work in all-sylvari squads that are easily left for dead by the majority of the other races because nobody else wants to work with them.

Integris becomes increasingly, severely bitter. She’s pissed at the rest of the world for leaving them for dead even as they continue putting their own lives on the line, she’s pissed as she watches her squadmates get dragged away by the jungle kicking and screaming, she’s pissed as some of them give in and become mordrem, and she’s extremely pissed at the Pale Tree for keeping them all in the dark. In her eyes, the Pale Tree is no better than Mordremoth. She thinks that maybe if the Pale Tree had told them the truth about themselves, they could have steeled themselves against Mordremoth’s influence. She hates the idea that any semblance of free will that the sylvari might have had is a fabrication, and that their only options were ever the Pale Tree or Mordremoth.

News of Trahearne’s death hits pretty hard, since she looked up to him and his quest was the whole reason she was in the Pact in the first place. It just kinda cements her “actually fuck mordremoth AND the pale tree, how much of this could have been avoided?” attitude.

(jokingly but maybe what keeps her from turning is sheer unadulterated anger at All Of This)

Post-HoT, Integris is bitter and quiet, and you’ll be lucky if you can get more than a sentence or two out of her. She’s still with the Pact, though she still despises them as a whole for what she perceives as a massive failure to support her people. But being with the Pact keeps her away from the Pale Tree and the Grove in general, which is good. She hates it. She’s frankly not sure what would happen if she had to go back to the Grove. She might straight up strangle the Pale Tree’s avatar. She might burn down the Grove too just for good measure.

And the Pact is still in the business of fighting dragons, so that’s good enough.

Integris knows of Aurene in general but has never dealt directly with her, and is somewhere between indifferent and distrusting. Begrudgingly she will admit that if it’s possible for the sylvari to fight and ignore Mordremoth’s influence, then it’s possible that Aurene isn’t an evil world-ending monster. But she still doesn’t like it. And she ESPECIALLY doesn’t like it when Caithe WILLINGLY gives herself to a dragon, and a bunch of sylvari follow suit. In her mind that’s exactly what they were trying to avoid. That’s exactly what a whole bunch of them died for. Integris has sort of become mildly obsessed with the idea of free will and personal choice. To be honest she probably thinks of Caithe and the rest of the Crystal Bloom sylvari and weak-willed or foolish. Maybe not as much with Caithe, in that case she’s probably more disappointed because of the whole ‘looking up to the firstborn’ thing.

and eventually i will catch up on the living story and see how she would fit in :)))

[i-mybrunettelady]

----- 1334 AE

Liv offered to come. El remembers Liv’s whiskers trembling, as they often do when he’s annoyed, but doesn’t want to lash out; it’s always been one of the charr’s greatest mysteries, how he manages to keep his annoyance from fanning into rage.

“I can go there alone,” El said, pulling on his too big fur-lined coat.

“There are Elder Dragons,” Liv pointed out. It was cold in Lion’s Arch, but El dreaded how cold it’d be in far Shiverpeaks.

“I want to see Aurene. See what’s so special about her. See what’s made Caithe abandon all sense of normalcy and betray us for an Elder Dragon. Besides, Alysannyra wouldn’t risk Trahearne’s life. She can do few things right, but that she cannot allow herself to fuck up.”

“Alright,” Liv sighed. “Don’t get yourself in danger, though. I’ll worry.”

Liv offered to come, El turned him down and now he is heaving alone in the cold shithole that is Eye of the North, trying to chase away that special aftertaste of vomit that only an asuran gate can produce. But he has to see Aurene, has to see what drove Caithe to betrayal. Because it feels like betrayal, because every Elder Dragon comes to be big and green and scream in his mind, and willingly joining the oppressors of mortals on Tyria cannot feel like anything but.

He senses Trahearne before he sees him, deep in conversation with Aife. There’s a noticeable weight of worry in him, worry he keeps hidden and cannot shake off.

“El,” the Firstborn greets, brow shooting up in surprise. His glow isn’t as noticeable as it was before.  “What brings you here?”

“Aurene,” El says curtly.

“Hello, Elandrin,” Aife says with a smile. “How did your self-defense lecture with the saplings go?”

“Lecture with the saplings? Aife, my dear, you can’t have found a worse replacement.” Trahearne shakes his head in disbelief.

“I agree,” El adds. “Don’t think it was my idea. Oh no. Canach and I had a bet and how in the Pale Tree’s branches could I refuse a bet?”

Trahearne pins him with a fond, but serious stare. “How much money did he milk out of you?”

“Enough for two masterwork daggers,” El sighs sadly. “In my defense, nobody got burned. Badly. I don’t envy you Luminaries.”

“Good thing you’re not a luminary,” Aife laughs. “We’d all be ash by now if that were the case.”

“Aife, wait here a moment,” Trahearne suddenly says, going around the table to stand before El. He lowers his voice and asks, “Are you sure? There’s Jormag too-”

“They’re all evil things,” El says harshly, squinting. “But I can handle myself. Thorns, you’re like Liv. I’m not a defenseless little sapling, I survived Maguuma by myself!”

“Jormag whispers,” Trahearne frowns. It’s a strange expression. El feels anger with an equally strange undercurrent of guilt radiate from his friend.

“I should know how to defend myself from dragons whispering in my head,” El bites out angrily. He’s capable, strong-willed. What’s another Elder Dragon?

Trahearne purses his lips. El feels his annoyance beat against his own, and he’s ready to argue if need be. But ever the calmer man, the Firstborn doesn’t take the bait. “Just beware,” he says with resignation, turning to go back to Aife. “They don’t play fair and minds like minefields are at most risk.”

El bristles. “Your dearheart told you that?”

“Yes,” Trahearne says. “If only you two could get along, my life would be a lot simpler. You’re more similar than you’d like to admit.”

“Never let a wrong ripen into evil,” El says sardonically. There’s conversation all around him, sylvari projecting fear and excitement in equal measures, grunting of the charr, laughter of the asura. Blades clash and people who look important - a white-furred charr with tattoos beneath her eye and a big, darkhaired norn, a short-haired human and Logan Thackeray, a floating mass of energy that talks for fuck’s sake - all converse in words he doesn’t quite get.

They’re all here because Alysannyra gathered them. Maybe he even asks her where she got a floating magical being so he could get one for himself.

He turns on his heel and moves towards the corridor. There’s a curious sense of ancient magic lingering in that direction. That’s when he sees her. She’s translucent, white, on her throne of pale crystals, smaller than he expected her to be, but with a long neck and a soothing voice. El hates it, hates how kind it seems, how gentle, when all dragons do is destroy. There’s no kindness within a dragon.

She’s deeply engaged in a conversation - argument - with a charr who doesn’t sound like a charr. Alysannyra sits beside them, purple eyes attentively looking between them, as if waiting for an opportunity to interject. She looks on edge, there are dark bags beneath her eyes, and her legs keep bouncing, like she’s about to run and needs to be prepared at any moment.

Just as she’s about to open her mouth, the charr turns to El and speaks in that smooth voice, “Ah, a visitor!”

“Elandrin?” Alysannyra asks, standing up. “What are you doing here?”

“Sight-seeing,” he says deadpan.

“Please,” she shakes her head. “My day’s bad already, don’t-”

“If you think I’m here for you, you’re an idiot,” he says honestly. “I’m here to see your elder dragon. And Jormag, it would seem.”

“Hello, sylvari,” Jormag says sweetly, a sudden shift from their firm tone from earlier. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“As long as you don’t call me fodder,” he all but hisses, managing to rein himself in.

“No,” Jormag replies, “that’s my brother’s role, but my brother is dead. You’re marginally more defensive than that compatriot of yours who resides here. I do not see the reason, really.”

“I will not be swayed,” El bites out. “I won’t accept anything you offer, you frigid lizard.”

“Do not antagonise Jormag,” Aurene says and it’s as if crystals fall from her mouth when she speaks.

“Aurene, let me handle this,” Alysannyra says gently.

“But, mother, he-”

“I know what he said,” her champion replies. “And I know he stands by that still. But I ask you not to fight my battles for me. It’s...” She waves her hand.

“Hypocritical of you, Champion,” Jormag tsks. “She just wants to protect you. It’s her choice, after all.”

That seems to have hit a nerve. “Shut up,” Alysannyra hisses.

Mind like a minefield, El thinks. It burns to admit Trahearne was right.

“I’m Elandrin,” he says. “Elandrin Aien. I’d rather be that than sylvari.”

“Of course, Elandrin Aien,” Jormag replies. “I’ll call you whatever you wish to be called.”

“Do not listen,” Alysannyra says, “do not engage. Jormag wants that. They cannot be trusted.”

“You’re protective of me?” El frowns.

“No, I value my own life and mental health,” she bristles. It’s as big of a compliment as she’ll ever pay him and a nearby sylvari chokes on his drink and stares at him. “And besides, Trahearne will end me if anything happens to you. You’re very dear to him.”

“How lovely of you,” he says. “Aurene, you say you like mortals, no?”

“My mother and father are mortals,” the dragon says. “I love them. All of them.”

“You do not make minions? Little Aurene-imbibed underlings?”

“None.” Aurene sounds confused by that line of questioning.

“How do you know that won’t change? How can you be sure? What’s your goal in pretending to be kind?”

“Pretending? I’m not pretending. I do not wish mortals harm. Elandrin, what is the purpose of this?”

“He’s distrustful because of Mordremoth,” Alysannyra explains, crossing her arms. She taps her heel on the ground. “My advice would be giving up. He’s set in his ways. He won’t listen in the best of times.”

“There’s no good in Elder Dragons. Only things they’re capable of are evil. I wanted to see what turned Caithe to your side.” El shakes his head. “False promises.”

Aurene keeps quiet.

“Mind your words,” Alysannyra warns. “It’s my daughter you’re speaking to.”

“And you’re the greatest traitor of them all,” El continues, “if this creature is your daughter. It’s all you could ever do. I knew it would happen, but he didn’t listen.” She closes her eyes, reaches out for her magic, taps her foot against the floor harder and mumbles to herself.

“Mind your words,” she repeats, with more firmness.

“Elandrin!” Trahearne’s voice booms from the hallway. He’s angry. “Is that why you came here? To insult?”

“If need be,” El replies.

Jormag laughs. “What a lovely show you mortals make,” they comment.

“And you, Lyss? Threats?”

“I’m a mother,” she says. “I was just defending her honour.”

“You two are impossible,” Trahearne mutters. “I’ll discuss this with both of you if I have to, and I clearly do. You’re behaving like saplings.”

“Tell you what, Aurene,” El says, eyeing the dragon. “Save Tyria and I may yet believe you don’t plan out imminent destruction. If not...” He shivers at the thought of the Mists. “Save the world, Alysannyra, and I’ll think you a little less of traitor.”

“Of course,” she says, holding his gaze. “It’s what I do. With or without your thanks.”

"With or without my thanks," he mocks. There's an admission of fighting back that wasn't there when he called her a murderer two years ago.

He doesn't know how he feels about it, so he turns to leave. "I'm returning to Lion's Arch, Trahearne. Call for me when you want to talk to me. I'm sure I've heard it before but..."

He doesn't wait for any replies. There's someone who would actually be happy for him in Lion's Arch.

[kerra-and-company]

I’d be very curious to hear about timeline 10 👀 (also don’t worry about sending me one lol, I honestly still have asks from this set I keep forgetting to answer so I’m still working through it myself ^^;)

Gotcha gotcha lol, and thanks so much for the ask! :D @mystery-salad

10. the timeline in which something big to them never happened.

Ooh boy, okay. I have many thoughts on this, so we’re doing it for Kerra and Ari. I was going to do more characters, but this got super long and I have homework, so we’re sticking to those two for now. Under a cut because as mentioned before, this got kinda long lmao. Spoilers for pretty much the entire story, up to and including Icebrood.

Kerra: If we take her as the focal character for this, a major event in her life was the discovery that her Wyld Hunt was “wrong”--the Dream wasn’t telling her to go after Zhaitan, but another dragon (who turned out to be Mordremoth). If that wasn’t true--if her Wyld Hunt was actually Zhaitan--she would have stayed with the Pact after his defeat and continued to help Orr or wherever else the Pact was focused. She might never have met most of Dragon’s Watch, and she probably wouldn’t have participated in the majority of LWS1 unless called on by Logan, Rytlock, or Eir. In that case, she’d have joined as an outsider, clearly known to be the Commander, and it would have taken Braham longer to warm up to her (esp. if she came on Eir’s recommendation).

Additionally, the events in spiral are prompted by Kerra’s realization that she had a different Hunt than she thought, but the majority of the emotions she exhibits there are still tendencies she had prior to that. She felt immensely guilty for every death caused on her watch, and she felt like she had to be perfect. Without that realization, she’d keep trying to be perfect, and she’d push herself to the limit to do so. Her new breaking point would be at the end of LWS2 with the reveal of the Pale Tree and Caithe’s Mordremoth secret, and it would be absolutely terrible timing. She wouldn’t be able to run, so she’d have to keep fighting while desperately needing space to process or, at the very least, someone to tell her why, if she’s been perfect, her Mother and her sister kept lying to her. And, as she is still very much actually with the Pact in this AU, there’s a high chance that she would have been on the Glory of Tyria at Trahearne’s side when the fleet was brought down. And if captured by Mordremoth (likely, since all of the leadership on that ship was), she’d have been stuck in a blighting pod, too.

There’s two ways that could go: one, considering her emotional turmoil at this point, she could be more vulnerable to Mordremoth and therefore be turned Mordrem. She’d be an absolute terror as a dragon minion (or champion), and a lot more lives would be lost, if the dragon was ever defeated at all. Two (the happier version), she could be forced to fight for herself, thereby forcing her to at least slightly accept herself if she doesn’t want to die. She’d make it out of the pod, weak and her physical form slightly altered but still very much her. Funnily enough, it might actually be easier for her to save Trahearne in this AU--she’s been touched by Mordremoth’s corruption and could force her way into his mind on her own. And after the dragon was defeated, whatever form that ended up taking, she’d make her way to Caithe and Tarir and meet still-in-the-egg Aurene. She’d be Champion, but the road would be rougher, and more people would die.

(On a less main-story note, this also would push Kerra getting involved with her partners way farther down the line, probably to PoF at the earliest and the end of LWS4 at the latest (and therefore pushing her sprouts’ birthdays down the line, too). And she’d actually be a lot closer to Caithe here. Having firsthand felt just about the strongest pressure the dragon had to offer and knowing your sister felt it too tends to bond you, and in this AU it also makes Kerra forgive her much more readily.)

Ari: Her biggest event would be Weylon’s betrayal, hands down. Without that, her warband would have stayed together, and her ‘bandmate Pol would still be alive. None of them would have joined any of the Orders for a while, so they’d have kept running missions for Ash against the Flame Legion and the Branded. Ari would have learned to drive tanks, not airships. Pol would eventually have been headhunted by the Priory around the time the Pact was targeting Kralkatorrik, so they all would have gone to Thunderhead Peaks and then Dragonfall. Brook probably would have joined the Crystal Bloom, and Casca would have joined as well, for them.

On one level, it’d be really hard for Ari. On another, at least it would be an amicable parting (unlike in the main canon), which is definitely not nothing. She’d find a new home fighting with Almorra--in this AU, she’d join the Vigil, not Whispers--and she’d keep in touch with her ‘band as much as possible. Weylon and Lifa would fight with Ari until Kralkatorrik’s death and then rejoin the legions. In this version of canon, both of them would be swayed by Bangar’s “one charr” crap, and they’d end up with Dominion. In the main canon, it’s only Lifa who does--Weylon’s firmly Flame Legion. However, both of them are also much more likely to be talked out of it in this AU (probably by Ari and Pol), so there’s a good chance they leave before being turned Frost Legion under Ryland.

Ari would meet Cio in Drizzlewood, the Vigil recruit learning to fly choppers and the Priory engineer who knows how to fix them. It’d be a much different first meeting; here, they’d hit it off right away, though it’d still take them a while to fall for each other.

[whiskeyworen]

Thoughts on Kralkatorrik

Fair warning. Gonna be dealing with lots of spoilers from Season 4. These are just my musings and thoughts, so feel free to reject them. Most of this is coming from mulling a lot of stuff over and over in my head to make sense.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Kralkatorrik lately, and I’m starting to wonder if he’s possibly one of the most utterly tragic entities we’ve ever encountered in Guild Wars 2. The Elder Dragon of Rage and Crystal...being the most tragic, pitiable, and sad beings I’ve ever seen. I was thinking about how Glint mentioned that at some point in the past, Kralkatorrik had approached her, driven by a vision he wanted her to confirm or deny. It was the vision of a world without Elder Dragons, without him. She claimed that the concept terrified him and drove him into a rage, and whatnot. But I’m wondering about that, simply because of what we know from War Eternal, from his final confessions to the Commander and Aurene. About not fearing death, not fearing anything. So why did Glint say that he WAS afraid? It made me wonder.... when did he have that vision? Was it shortly before he spoke to Glint about it? Or was it further back in history, in the forgotten, unwritten ages? Which made me think further; Glint had the gift of prophecy. To look through the skeins of fate and see particular outcomes and work towards them. But she couldn’t see past a certain point, because that point did not include her in it. In fact, from the memory crystals we find in Path of Fire... when she met Destiny’s Edge, she was surprised: “These heroes are...not what I expected. Do they have the courage to endure what's coming? The will to drive it back? “ I think that’s because the group she DID expect was Dragon Watch...from further down the timestream. She knew it was a group of mortals coming, with a sylvari, a charr, a human, and an asura...among others perhaps...but the group before her didn’t look quite right. She misinterpreted her own vision, and as a result, Destiny’s Edge tried to fight Kralkatorrik too early. Glint and Snaff died as a result. But... Kralkatorrik, for all his size and power, could have easily smeared or branded Destiny’s Edge. He didn’t though. Rytlock talks about having been close enough to ‘blow kisses’ to Kralk, but Kralk didn’t end up killing them in the end. Because that wasn’t part of the grander Vision. Back to the point, we know Aurene has prophetic visions, and looked through multiple outcomes to try to find one where she and her allies didn’t die against Kralk. And failed. Because that was a historical point that HAD to be met and bypassed by something not shown. Which made me wonder... if Aurene is prophetic to a degree, and Glint moreso, to the point of seeing decades, centuries down the road with some degree of accuracy (not perfect but pretty good)... did that mean Kralkatorrik could as well? Could he, by extension, see extremely FAR down the road, but perhaps not have the refinement to see any other paths? I suddenly had this idea that Kralkatorrik, in the far ancient past before he became the Moving Mountain Range of a Dragon, possibly when he first evolved up to a more powerful state, had had the greatest, deepest, and longest Vision. One that he saw all the way to the end of his own life, so many millennia down the road. And that it didn’t terrify him. It didn’t anger him. It just was. It was unavoidable (because he didn’t know HOW to avoid it, without wrecking the balance of the world himself, which he would have been very aware of), but it was tremendously far off. He could do almost anything and easily avoid it... but yet he didn’t. He took on the role that had been set for him. Perhaps he’d been granted a vision of where someone referred to him as the Elder Dragon of Rage and Crystal. Seen his own, enraged actions in later millennia. So he put that on as his image, projecting a false rage, but one honest enough to convince generations of mortals. Maybe even mixed in a bit of actual rage, because who likes being shackled to a fate they can’t alter? To be denied choice? With his Brand, over the passing of years, he could have easily reworked all of Tyria every time he awoke. But we see little if any of his influence other than in the Brand itself. And the Brand is a pretty permanent mark on the landscape. Pretty sure something like that doesn’t fade in a century or two. There should be entire swathes of landscape still bearing Brandmarks from the previous Risings, but there doesn’t seem to be. What if, just maybe... he was following a long list of events he had to make sure happened, to ensure that particular future came to pass. The one with Aurene, the Commander, the Pact, and Dragonfall itself? Every other Elder Dragon (barring Jormag, who claims to want only to be left alone, just ignore the ice minions) when they awoke tried to expand their territory as far as possible, and conquer and devour all in their path. But when Kralkatorrik awoke, he only burned a path straight south, and parked himself near the Tomb of the Primeval Kings. For YEARS. He drove south, and then sat somewhere. The only time he left that spot was to ‘confront’ Destiny’s Edge. As the Long Vision said he must, because he HAD to. He had to let Glint be un-linked to him for years, only to be forced to re-take her and her ending up dead because of it and the resulting battle. He had to watch as essentially his daughter died, knowing he could have left her alone and alive. But having to do it because if she lived, the Vision would go off-path, and the end result would be less-than-acceptable. So Glint dies, Snaff dies, and Kralkatorrik nurses a long, painful hurt that he knew was coming for ages. Imagine knowing that someone you cared about would turn on you, and you had to kill them. Imagine knowing, even worse, that that was the GOOD outcome. The one that HAD to happen. Mortals knew of him as the Crystal and Rage Dragon, because that was the image he had to plant in their minds. They HAD to hate him. They HAD to fear him. Fate needed them all bound together in a force strong enough to take him down, and he was the needle that sewed it all together through dozens of smaller, unseen movements over the years. Towards the end, after he’d absorbed all those toxic magics that he had no hope of containing, no hope of filtering and releasing in the ways that Aurene had been taught, because no one had ever taught HIM how to do it in ages past... He’d been almost insane with pain. But even then, he was still trying to follow the script. He knew he had to do...things... even if he wasn’t truly sure what they were. After such a long life, there must have been moments of ‘is this the part where I....’ by the dozens, but he probably knew his time was up, and knew he HAD to resist hard enough for everyone to be fully convinced of it. He had to fight back against us, because the script demanded he do it. So that there would be enough anger that we (the Commander, Aurene, the Pact) would not hesitate, not pull any punches, show no mercy.... Because it was the right thing to do. Kralkatorrik knew ages before that he was going to die, where, and how. Maybe not When, but one only needed to look to the events that would unfold to pick the proper time. He knew he would be hurt every stage of the path. From the loss of Glint, and possibly Vlast (the grandson he’d never properly met), to having to Brand Aurene to set her on her proper path. From Branding Ascalon and countless living beings to make the Charr, and by proxy Tyria hate him enough to fight him hard enough to make the Future possible. To facing down Balthazar when he frankly didn’t need to, even knowing Aurene was in that Warbeast, and being injured by it. Even chasing Aurene through the Mists, and into Thunderhead Keep, and then retreating back into the Mists to recupe some strength...that was only so there’d be time for Aurene to recover and gain her true abilities. He could have easily levelled the mountain, and instead he left...because Fate demanded he do so. There was no anger in him at the end. Only love for Aurene, regret for Glint, and possibly even those he’d Branded (I’m interpretting it that way because it’s very possible he did like Mortals, but because of his role in Fate, he HAD to kill and Brand them, and that hurt.), relieved resignation that he was at the end, and gratitude. In a way, all the horror, all the pain he caused... all the destruction, as oddly limited as it was compared to other Elder Dragons... was all FOR Tyria and the world. He played the role of mindless villain, because it was his destiny, and he could not shirk it. Could not see another way out that was beneficial to the world. So he took up that dark mantle, and wore it, and never let anyone else know, not even his own kin. Right till the end. Even Jormag never caught on. That’s how well he played the role. It’s impressive...and haunting. To knowingly do horrible things even though you don’t want to, but because it’s absolutely, 100% necessary. And to know it’s going to cost you Everything, right down to your own life... but everything will come out better for it afterward. I’m not even sure I’ve explained the scope of this thought properly. But it digs at the back of my mind now when I play through PoF, and Season 4. I can’t un-think these thoughts, not after hearing him at the end of Dragonfall. Hearing that he KNEW, and had always known, and was unafraid of it.

[primeval-scion-of-the-mists]

Kinda messy but here’s the commander relationships meme done with my AU commander Vesuvia and her sisters! I would’ve done my main commander Adayra & her co-commander or my EU commander Manawydan & his co-commander but honestly none of them really interact with any of the canon characters oops. That’s actually why I ended up making an AU commander cuz I wanted a character that interacts with the canon characters and follows the canon storyline fairly strictly. 

I’ve never actually posted about Vesuvia and her sisters so here’s some quick basic intros for them!

Vesuvia: Pact commander. Vigil. Blood legion but born in Flame legion. Warrior. Middle child. Brash, fierce, strong beliefs, will do whatever it takes to defeat her enemies, really good at motivational speeches that get people ready for battle, insecure, tends to distance herself from people, feels emotions very strongly

Etna: Co-commander. Order of Whispers. Ash legion but born in Flame legion. Ranger. Eldest child. Blind from burn scars on her face from her father. Quiet, prefers to work from behind the scenes, intelligent, excellent battle strategist, hates being babied because of her blindness, can hold grudges for a long time, tends to bottle up her emotions

Amiata: Pact & Dragon’s Watch member. Priory. Iron legion. Elementalist. Youngest child. Only related to Vesuvia and Etna via their mother. Friendly, curiosity driven, dislikes conflict, quick to forgive, deeply loves her family and friends, great at motivational speeches that keep people together in hard times, low self-esteem

Template for this meme can be found here and was made by @duskroots !

Made a couple relationship explanations under the cut. Includes spoilers for the GW2 storyline

Explanation for Vesuvia’s relationship with Rox: I added “complicated” to theirs because of Rox joining the Olmakhan, which Veusvia saw as her abandoning Dragon’s Watch and her in favor of the Olmakhan. Rox saying “I finally found a home. A family. Not that Dragon's Watch wasn't like a family, but...” hurt her pretty bad since she felt that was Rox saying she and Dragon’s Watch weren’t enough. Vesuvia still loves Rox, but is currently angry with her.

Explanation for Vesuvia’s relationship with Caithe: Most of it is pretty self-explanatory if you’ve played through HoT. The end part where respect turns to dislike takes place after Aurene hatched. When Caithe explained herself, Vesuvia started to respect her again... Until Caithe became Branded by Aurene, that is. Since then, Vesuvia has grown to dislike her again out of jealousy due to her own insecurity and the fact she feels Caithe is intruding on her relationship with Aurene. Vesuvia also dislikes the Order of The Crystal Bloom(she appreciates that they want to help Aurene, but she’s afraid of them forcing Aurene onto a pedestal for them to worship like she believes the Zephyrites do with Glint) and since Caithe is the leader of that order, it certainly doesn’t make their relationship any better.

Explanation for Veusvia’s relationship with Logan: Originally she had only ever heard of Logan from Rytlock, so you can imagine he didn’t exactly paint him in a good light. Vesuvia hated Logan for abandoning Destiny’s Edge and his treatment of Rytlock. It wasn’t until Logan and Rytlock began to make amends that Vesuvia’s hate died down and she began to respect him.

Explanation for Vesuvia’s relationship with Zojja: Vesuvia found her annoying and bratty at first. As Vesuvia got closer to Eir, these feelings of resentment got stronger as Zojja continued to treat Eir badly. When Zojja and Eir began to finally make amends, Vesuvia began to respect Zojja but admittedly still isn’t that fond of her.

Explanation for Vesuvia and Etna’s relationship with Aurene: Due to Aurene being the scion of a dragon, neither of the two charr were particularly excited about her hatching. They felt Aurene would end up like all the other Elder Dragons, but as time went on and they got to know her, they realized she was different and they came to love her like family. Vesuvia views Aurene as her daughter while Etna views her as her niece.

Explanation for Etna’s relationship with Braham: After HoT, Etna began to strongly hate him for the way he was treating her sister Vesuvia. They definitely got into a few physical scuffles over his harsh behavior. When Braham started to make amends with Vesuvia, Etna’s hate for him began to die down since she felt he is starting to make up for what he’s done. They have yet to become friends again, though, since Etna is still a little bitter.

Explanation for Etna’s relationship with Caithe: Caithe and Etna were fairly close before HoT but afterwards their relationship has become a bit rocky. Etna didn’t like the way Caithe had acted when she stole the egg and though she understands why she did it, she still thinks she could have handled it much better. They have since made up and are friends again, but Etna is still a little wary of her and is hesitant to open up to her again.

Explanation for Amiata’s various dislike moments: Because Amiata is not a fan of conflict, she found Zojja, Logan, Rytlock, and Braham’s bitterness all very annoying and did not enjoy being around them because of it.

[cousinslavellan-archive]

“Your glider is magnificent, Commander! Wherever did you get it?”

“It’s, ah... they’re wings, actually. My wings.”

A headcanon and story point for Tangled Paths that hasn’t happened yet, I wanted to talk about the wing-thing this morning. Cause it’s been mentioned in a couple oneshots and... idk. Need to type it out.

Being connected to a Dragon - even a baby one like Aurene (at the time) - can cause changes, I reason. We see this with Caithe later on, though not to the same extent. If the Commander is Aurene’s Champion, it makes sense they’re getting something out of the Bond - stronger magic, resilience, something.

Shortly after arriving in the Crystal Desert, Terra starts to notice an itch, along her shoulder-blades. Not necessarily painful, but irritating, and one that doesn’t go away. It turns into a dull sort of ache while she travels, and she gets used to it - not noticing the tiny clusters of crystals that have pushed through her skin, blending in with the glow of her markings.

It’s not until sometime late Act 1 when the wings emerge - snapping out on instinct to catch herself from a sharp fall, glider unprepared in this territory that favors mounts.

She’s clumsy, at first - and only uses them when she needs to, pretending that they are a glider, as much as possible. Terra’s not entirely sure where they go, when she ‘tucks them away’ - it’s like an Aasimar summoning their wings for battle, almost, where they vanish again shortly after. 

She gets better at using them with practice - and they get stronger, over time, especially after they’ve visited Glint’s Lair, which is when her hair also begins to change and grow - but rarely keeps them out ‘on display’.

I need to work on the hows and whys a bit more, but this will come up in TP soon enough, so. Hurray.

Top two screens are early PoF before I swapped her hair up - last screen is near the end/ POSSIBLY while hunting for Griffon things. It’s been a while.

[omnivoroustree]

To Kill A God

I wrote Cat’s version of To Kill A God, the second last instance in PoF’s story. It’s 1503 words and mentions @cactuscommander’s Styran.

Catragna loved Elona. While their brother had no particular affiliation with any part of Tyria (aside from the Grove), Cat loved the desert sands, shifting around brand crystals, settlements, and spires as blue as the sky they reached towards.

They mounted their griffon and dived down until they could feel their leaves twisting and crackling in the wind as the ground flashed past; a stream of harsh sun-bleached colours and rich purple, all disappearing beneath golden feathers. This was really their home now. It had been years since they visited the Grove, and their bond was with the rest of the sylvari had grown weak. Earlier that had made them uneasy, but now it made them feel free.

The griffon, Lyra, pulled out of the dive and landed lightly on a cliffside, surveying the area. The Domain of Vabbi extended below them, marred by  brand crystal and swarming with Awakened and Forged. “Come on Styran…”

Their brother had been missing for a while now, leaving only a promise to ‘be back soon’ from a few months earlier, and a series of nonsense claims about an afterworld (not the Mists) and a café. The only cafés were in Lion’s Arch, or occasionally Divinity’s Reach, but Styran wasn’t anywhere in Tyria. Not even near the lesbian pride rug, which Cat had checked several times.

When the whispering melody of sylvari thoughts had become unpleasant, Cat had given up and returned to Elona, passing the time with a mixture of bounty hunting and half-hearted dragon hunting. And, of course, god hunting. Balthazar would be here, but Cat wanted Styran to be here too. That was seeming less and less likely with every second that passed.

Not enough time. Lyra glanced at Cat, who nodded, and she took to the air again, drifting over to a massive staircase and bounding up it. The war god was waiting for them. Cat dismounted, and raised Sohothin. “Let her go,” they said, advancing slowly. Balthazar sneered, beginning a speech that Cat didn’t bother to listen to, opting instead to slash at Aurene’s chains. They didn’t break.

“Well there goes my plan.”

Balthazar was powerful. Way too powerful. Cat swung Sohothin around blindly, but it turns out that a flaming sword is not the best thing for protecting oneself from fire. Balthazar easily knocked them off their feet, and they dropped Sohothin. It fell on Aurene’s chains, and this time they broke.

“Oh, nice! You can help me fight.” They gave Aurene a hug, then dodged a slash of Bathazar’s sword. Aurene chirruped happily, and Cat ran over to her, and they attacked the god at the same time.

“Why won’t you die and be done with it?”

Cat sheathed Sohothin and drew their staff, which they were still not accustomed to, but at least they were more used to it than the sword. “Why won’t you die and be done with it?” They retaliated, twirling their weapon around then furiously hitting his kneecaps.

Balthazar clearly decided that was not worth answering. A few Forged joined the fight, and Cat focused on them while Aurene continued to fight Balthazar. He yelled at her angrily, prompting Cat to deliver a particularly vicious blow to his shin before turning back to his minions.

Then something clicked. Cat leaped into the air to avoid Balthazar’s sword, stealthed, and swept the legs out from under a Forged soldier, whacking him repeatedly until he stood up, then they jumped again, spinning around and bringing their staff down on the soldiers head. He slumped to the ground, while Cat was in the air again.

It had taken a long time to learn staff fighting. They thought they had it earlier, but now they had actually figured it out. And it was fun. They continued to fight that way, in an acrobatic, almost elegant style that left them constantly out of breath and exhilarated. The last few Forged didn’t stand a chance.

Balthazar was insulting Aurene again, and Cat managed to reach his shoulder. Unfortunately, they didn’t expect that, and bounced off and began to roll down the stairs. They swore, trying to stop and clamber back up into the battle, but their staff couldn’t gain a purchase and their wrist twisted badly when they tried to grab onto a stair.

They hit something soft, but they were moving fast enough for it to leave them winded as well as dizzy. They blinked, waiting for the world to steady itself, and saw Lyra standing over them. She helped them to their feet and carried them back up to Balthazar, diving at him and doing some damage before flying off again.

Balthazar looked at the sylvari disdainfully, and they glared back. Aurene blasted him from behind with a barrage of iridescent flames, then gave the most adorable triumphant roar. “You cannot win,” the god hissed, ignoring Aurene and instead directing all his fury at Cat. “The gods have abandoned this world.” He readied his sword. “Abandoned you.”

He swung the blade into the ground where Cat was a moment earlier. “Actually, I think they abandoned you.” They dodged a second attack. “Aurene, over here!” Balthazar stumbled under the force of the duo’s onslaught, and Cat grinned. “You’re weakening. About time too.”

Then something unexpected happened. Their staff caught fire. They tried to blow it out, and when that failed they threw it on the ground and tried to stomp it out, but the staff had already turned into charcoal and ash, held together by a thin and fragile line of intact wood. It was Balthazar’s turn to grin.

“I am fire!” he cried, calling down a barrage of firestorms. “I am war! And what are you?”

“Still standing!” Cat called back as they were knocked into the ground for the third time. They drew Sohothin as they stumbled to their feet, but Balthazar hit them again, and the sword went skittering over the edge of the platform. They made a small, panicked sound.

Their wrist was throbbing, the adrenaline no longer enough to mask the pain. They could see Aurene growing tired too. They were going to lose again. And this time, the consequences were going to be much worse. “We were so close,” they said quietly.

Balthazar got ready to hit Aurene, and Cat saw her eyes widen. She wouldn’t be able to dodge that strike. Cat instinctively grabbed the nearest makeshift weapon, and lobbed it at the back of his head.

Their shoe bounced off his helmet and hit the floor pathetically.

Balthazar stopped. Turned around slowly, and laughed. Cat’s shoe began to smoulder. They tried throwing their second one, and it almost hit his elbow, instead joining Sohothin in the sand far below them. Balthazar’s sword met their chest, and while it didn’t get far through their armour, it left them lying on the floor, ready to either slowly bleed out or get cleaved in two just like their brother.

Balthazar walked over, Aurene frozen behind him, staring at the sylvari that had been with her since she hatched. “You did better this time,” Balthazar said, “You didn’t fall to your death before I could kill you. Congratulations.”

Cat stealthed, crawled across the ground. “Still fighting? How courageous of you. You might have been a good soldier if you were not so stubborn. And stupid.” Cat grabbed onto his foot. “Oh, are you begging? That won’t help either.”

“I’m not begging,” Cat insisted, then turned their attention back to their task. They were a thief. They should always be able to find something to fight with, and they should be able to steal from—

There was a satisfying click, and Cat tore Balthazar’s boot off and shadowstepped away.

“What?”

Cat hurled the shoe at his head, and there was an ominous sound, a combination of a crash and what might have been the crack of bone. The god fell. Blood pooled around him as he feebly cursed Dwayna, Melandru, Grenth…

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Cat told him, then the last bit of life left Balthazar’s body, and the magic was set free. Cat stumbled backwards, dazed, eyes open wide and unseeing. They cried out for Aurene, but they couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel, couldn’t sense. Even if the dragon did respond, they didn’t notice. They curled into a ball and rocked back and forth.

Sensations slowly started to come back.

The first one they noticed was pain. The cut on their torso was deeper than they thought, and caused sap to stream down their side. Their wrist had gotten worse, and the rest of their body was coated in bruises and burns. They opened their eyes.

Aurene was there, and they smiled, but then she flew off and they started to cry. They were alone. Even Kralkitorrik left after he had gorged himself on magic. They lay back, letting tears wash ash from their face.

Cat was unconscious by the time Dragon’s Watch found them, bandaged them up, and carried them back to Amnoon.