Curse

d3kst3r · Jan 17, 2006, 01:49 PM // 13:49

Guild Wars - The Orrian Cataclysm
The Lost Volumes
Copyright 2006 by David X.

Foreward

This is a story I've decided to work on steadily. I might write a new chapter once a day or once a week whatever suites me. It's the story of the now destroyed kingdom of Orr which, if any of you have read the manual, know about its sad fate. This story details the events leading up to it. Enjoy :P

Prologue

Lucius the Sage woke up to a cold sweat. He had dreamed of a doom so foreboding that his body shook and his mind was dazed. This was no ordinary dream he knew for he was a man of great power. The King’s sage in fact, he served in the royal court of Orr as an oracle. One would could read the winds, read the stars and foretell the fortunes of an empire. But now he felt grim, like impending doom was upon him.
Standing up from his large wooden bed made of fine oak, he approached the window and looked out the window at the great marble streets of Arah. Fine were they and he knew that the kingdom of Orr was unlike any other in the land. For the city of Arah was once inhabited by the long departed gods of Melandru, Dwayna and Balthazar during ancient times. The buildings left behind by the gods were looked after by generations of skilled craftsmen. Some of the finest craftsmen in Tyria.
Using a small amount of his ethereal skills, he summoned some pure water into a goblet by his side and drenched his parched throat and sighed. The beauty of the land was foreshadowed by the Guildwars which had raged for decades and the bloodshed seemed to have no end. Within the inner city of Arah it seemed peaceful for that was where the noble lived. However on the outer rim, it felt like a civil war. Each day there would be dozens of reported conflicts between different households regularly leading to deaths. The Orrian guards had little sway over the outer rim of Arah.
The kingdoms of Ascalon and Kryta weren’t doing very well either. The none-stop bloodshed of the guilds was even more prominent there as it was in Orr.
Lucius sighed heavily, his age and weariness beginning to catch up with him. His white thin hair had an air of sickness to it and his features were ancient.
There was a knocking on his chamber doors which startled him out of his reverie.

“Lucius! The King asks for your presence,” came the deep booming voice of Malgus the necromancer from the far west.

Malgus had a permanent expression of anger on his sharp face and white pupils in his eyes. His skin was deathly white and his back crooked despite his tall stature. He wore a long black robe and Lucius didn’t trust him. The long years of studying the art of necromancy had deformed Malgus to become something of a mix between the living and the dead. Even Malgus’ skin was cold to the touch like a corpse during winter. But it was his soul that Lucius was concerned about for he saw nothing but darkness there. However the King had need of this sickly creature and otherwise Lucius would have pardoned him from service long ago.

“And I see you have become nothing more than a messenger,” Lucius replied.

“It is an emergency council he seeks from all his advisors. Do not think he has some special need of you,” Malgus replied coldly.

The King’s chamber was a magnificent giant hall of marble and adorned with golden ornaments. King Dorian had been the successor to many generations of his blood line and was generally loved by the people. He was a fair man but a courageous man. However many decades with the Guildwars had made him weary and tired.
Before him now were all his twelve advisors standing in front of him with their heads bowed including Lucius and Malgus. Several servants and high officials also crowded into the hall to see what the fuss was about. On the thrown Dorian looked quite concerned, his face a pale white. Beside him on a small chair sat a young man, no older than eighteen and full of cuts and bruises, his clothes tattered and his black hair ruffled. Two monks stood on either side of this young man with their hands on his shoulders meditating to keep him breathing properly. The young man looked close to exhaustion.

“Charr…,” Dorian’s voice boomed across the hall to shushed whispers. “They have broken through the Great Wall.”

There was a long silence throughout the hall before Lucius spoke.

“You mean the Charr have invaded Ascalon?”

“Worse,” Dorian said, his voice slightly shaky. “They have sacked the city and all outlying outposts. They come in great numbers and we believe they are heading this way.”

Stunned mutters erupted before the King urged for silence. Then the young man beside the King spoke with a gasping breath.

“My name is Aiden. I bring news from Ascalon,” he coughed. “I have travelled for days without sleep or rest with a band of Charr on my tail. I am lucky to be alive. The news I bring you is dire and is straight from King Adelbern.”

“Aiden, how many Charr penetrated the Wall?” asked senior advisor Pollock.

“Hundreds… of thousands… maybe millions,” he muttered. “My father…,” he began to shake. “My father died defending the homeland… King Adelbern bids you to prepare your defenses and to spare no man who can fight.”

“The Charr cannot penetrate the walls of Arah. No standing army ever has!” Malgus spoke arrogantly. “I have foreseen this! In my dreams I saw all the Charr who set foot near Arah become obliterated off the face of Tyria!”

“And I have seen the destruction of Arah!” Lucius spoke before he could think about what was coming out of his mouth. “In a dream I had a foresight. Of great and total destruction of our homeland.”

“None sense! For I have also had a foresight of the destruction of the Charr!”

There were mutters around the hall before Dorian stood up from his throne to speak.

“Nevertheless, if either of you is true, we still must defend and hope for victory against this threat. Now we must convene the Council of War!”

Symeon · Jan 19, 2006, 07:32 AM // 07:32

Wow...good writing man...made a nice morning read. Keep it up, and I hope others comment on this too...

Synapse · Jan 19, 2006, 03:57 PM // 15:57

Excellent, excellent! god I love this place.

Omega Complex · Jan 20, 2006, 08:40 PM // 20:40

Very nice indeed. Well done.

d3kst3r · Jan 22, 2006, 04:24 AM // 04:24

Here's chapter One. So far I'm planning to finish this saga in about 16 chapters and tie it directly into the start of the adventures of those established by the official folklore.

One

Most of Aiden’s wounds had healed throughout the night thanks to the help of the healers nearby who had channelled their skills none stop. Looking outside his tower he could see the large beautiful city of Arah, the City of the Gods. He had only been to Arah once and that was when he was very little. His father had taken him here for his father had wanted for him to see the entire world. His mother had died when he was still a baby and so his father had decided to teach him to be self reliant.

“There’s nobody else you can trust completely and count on except for yourself in this world. And I damn sure are going to make sure that you have all the skills you need to fend for yourself once you’re gone,” his father had told him wearily.

“Where are you going?” the bright eyed young boy had asked.

“All people die. It’s part of nature. Dwayna takes the seed of man into the world and reclaims it once they have had their share.”

And so the lesson had begun in earnest. Aiden had learnt the way of the bow, the sound of the trees, the whispers of the winds and the heart beat of the earth. This troubled him as he gazed upon the young child Cynn whom he had rescued from the fires of the Ascalonian settlements. He found Cynn alone and starving in a house which seemed to have been obliterated by some sort of powerful force. Cynn never spoke about the events before he found her.

“You were watching me sleep?” asked Aiden.

“I wanted to be sure you were ok,” she replied.

Aiden felt weary. He was a young man but he felt old beyond age.

“What do you think will happen to us?” she asked once he had gotten dressed and had something to eat.

“I intend to stay. To defend this place against the Charr. My father loved this city, said that it contained many of the treasures of this world. Just look at the buildings around here,” he pointed to some houses outside. “The finest marble in Tyria. Hand crafted by the gods themselves.”

At that moment an old man entered the room. He wore the brightest white robes Aiden had ever laid eyes upon.

“My name is Lucius,” the man’s voice was troubled. “I have come to gaze upon your thoughts.”

“My thoughts?” asked Aiden.

“You have seen the fall of Ascalon through your own eyes. I wish to see what you have seen.”

Before Aiden could move a muscle Lucius placed his hand upon Aiden’s brow and began chanting. As soon as this occurred Aiden felt his entire body freeze as though paralysed. Then images began to fill his head. The sieges upon the wall, his father fighting alongside him along thousands of guardsmen, the explosion which rocked the world, women and children being slain by foul beasts everywhere. A tear fell out of his left eye.
Lucius moaned and withdrew.

“The armies… they are the largest ever assembled in this world… they will crush Arah like hailstorm upon crops,” the old man said as though foretelling a prophecy.

“But there is still hope right?” Cynn muttered.

“I see a very dark time. Many Orrians will die. But there is hope however… but not for us. I see hope within you young Aiden. I see strength and honour within you. And I sense a great power within Cynn. She will must be taught the ways of the Elementalists,” Lucius eyes became deathly white as though he were in a trance. “For she holds great power… power that will become vital to the salvation of this world!”

Aiden and Cynn both looked at each other befuddled.

“What must I do?” Aiden asked the sage.

“You must travel…” Lucius muttered under his bizarre trance. “Take the girl to the Dark Elemental Tower.”

“You wish for me to seek out the Dark Elementalists for help against the Charr? But they have had no relations with the rest of the world for centuries! And few have ever found the Tower before. In fact nobody even knows where it is!”

“Past the Fetid Plains… you will find the Dead Forest. Centuries ago the Dark Elementalists fought a terrifying war there against the lizard men. Although outnumbered fifty to one, their power was both terrifying and forbidden. The lizard men were destroyed, their race extinct and so the Dark Elementalists were banished from the face of Tyria by all things living. And for centuries they dwell within their Tower that reaches beyond the clouds. Go to the far to the west. You will find them.”

Aiden was finding it hard to take all this in.

“What part does Cynn have to play in all this?” asked Aiden.

“She is the key to defeating the Charr…” and with that last word Lucius fell out of his trance. At first he was confused and for a while was unsure of himself. He looked around the room and wondered where he was. “I’ve been feeling odd lately, I really must go see the monks.”

And with that he left the room.
Without further ado Aiden began packing and making preparations. Since he was a ranger, he travelled light and within a few minutes he had brought all his rations, weapons and some tools to use and was at the stables. He picked the best horse he could find which met with complaint from the stable boy however he was able to obtain a royal decree from King Dorian himself as a royal scout and so took a horse which was both tall, lean and dark. By nightfall he was out of the city gates with Cynn sitting behind him.
And so Aiden’s long journey had begun. He was an impulsive man and acted quickly without time to pause. The humans were at war with the Charr, his father had been slain and all he had left was his mighty bow and a young girl he had saved. If by finding the Dark Elementalists he could defeat the Charr then he was going to give it his best shot.
Aiden looked back at the glowing lights and the mighty city behind him and sighed.

“I hope this place still exists once I come back,” he muttered and rode out into the night.

Meanwhile many leagues away the Charr were but five days march to the capitol of Orr. Ascalon was a smouldering ruin scorched by fire and ash. And deep within the unknown, a dark and hidden foe was yet to show its face.
The Guildwars had officially ended. The war to save mankind had begun.

storm of daeth · Jan 23, 2006, 03:55 AM // 03:55

awesome plz write more soon im looking forward to it =D

d3kst3r · Jan 23, 2006, 07:12 AM // 07:12

This is chapter two and I finally feel that the story is picking up momentum. The previous two chapters I had to spend lots of time establishing stuff so in this one I really had lots of free time to write about action and begin with the plot. To tell the truth I'm making the story up as I write it so I don't really know where it's heading but I'm certain it'll shape itself.

Two

It was nightfall. Aiden had ridden hard all day and his horse which he named Chestnut, had warned him that he would throw him off his back and break his spine if they rode any longer. Aiden then offered to walk and only have the horse carry Cynn to which the horse agreed. When Aiden asked Chestnut why he would rather carry Cynn than himself, the horse replied by farting. Horses had a bizarre sense of humour.

“Aiden, how did you learn to talk with animals?” Cynn asked as they had set up camp in a clearing.

“My father taught me to trust me instincts. He taught me that nature communicates with us via our instincts,” he said as he roasted a rabbit on the open fire.

“What do you mean?” she asked inquisitively.

“Take the sky for instance,” he pointed. “When the clouds are sad they will turn dark. When they feel great sorrow they will even cry. Listen to the whispers on the wind, they will tell you about the texture of the trees, the richness of the grass.”

“And what about animals?”

“Once you trust them and they trust you, you will understand how they feel. Over time this feeling leads to a form of communication. You see animals, unlike humans, don’t require speech to talk. They talk with their instincts, with their feelings.”

Just then a gust of wind blew past the campfire.

“Listen,” Aiden said and they both hushed. “I hear the sound of danger nearby.”

“I feel…” she said as she listened. “I feel the power of the air. Like a thread so fine and so small that it becomes hard to control with the bare hand. I feel almost like I can grab the thread and almost control it.”

“That is quite different to my experiences. However there is danger nearby. You should stay here, I will scout out.”

He told Chestnut not to break any more wind and headed off into some dense trees. Chestnut huffed a laugh and decided that this man had quite a good sense of humour for a human and therefore must be pretty intelligent.”
Aiden swept through the foliage like a gust of wind leaving no sign of his passing until he saw another camp nearby. A small group of Charr were assembled around a camp fire eating meat from a fire. Several humans were nearby locked inside cages with sad looks on their faces.

“Charr scouting party...” he muttered to himself. “Feeding…”

He could distinctly make out a Charr walking around with a part of a cooked human forearm hanging out of its mouth. There was a total of five of them. He had to be swift and efficient. Pulling three arrows out of his quiver, he then took out a piece of flint rock and a small jar of special oil. The oil he wiped onto the arrow heads then with one flick of the flint he was able to produce a spark which landed cleanly on the arrow head. The arrow head went alight immediately. He dipped the other two arrows onto the flame and soon he had three flame arrows. Reading the wind, he placed all three arrows on his recurve bow at once, the tails of the arrows held in position using the gaps between his fingers.
For this shot he had to be precise for it was one of the hardest tricks his father had ever taught him. He required great concentration and skill. Back in the old days his father had spent hours none-stop teaching him the triple shot.

“Why must I learn something so elaborate that I’ll never use?” he had asked both exhausted and tired. His fingers had been shaking with weakness from repeating the same trick over and over.

“I don’t care if you use it only once in your whole life,” his father began. “But one day it will save your life.” And so he had spent the rest of the day practicing until his fingers were numb from the pain.

“You were right,” Aiden mumbled now as he released his hand and sent the arrows flying into the night.

The next moment he could hear the sound of cloth being set alight and the sound of roaring as he hid behind the foliage. Telling from the racket he could pin point at least three Charr who had been injured and another two who were now running around aimlessly.
Wasting no time he placed another arrow into his bow, this time it was an extra sharp one. In one fluid motion he stood up and took aim. His eyes met with the lone Charr who had spotted him and within a split second the Charr had received an arrow straight between the eyes knocking him down.
By now he had been spotted and the remaining Charr who had not been set alight had returned fire with an arrow of his own. It missed Aiden since he stood both under cover and in the dark. Aiden hadn’t paused even to hesitate. With a measured breath he placed a third arrow and aimed. He released both his breath and the arrow at the same time and watched it slam into the eye of his attacker.
The smell of burning Charr flesh filled his nostrils and he almost paused to remember the smells of Ascalon as it lay burning. But he had not time for that. He rushed forwards into the camp amid the chaos and stabbed a panicking Charr in the heart with his dagger. Another Charr rushed at him with his war axe and for a second it seemed that Aiden was left defenceless. Suddenly he kicked up a big pile of dirt with his foot, bringing it up into his foe’s eyes blinding him temporarily. It was enough time for Aiden to go in with a quick kill using his dagger to the temple.
All of a sudden he was knocked down from behind and felt a large foot stomp onto his back pinning him to the ground.
From behind him came the roar the single Charr he had not killed. The Charr was smarter than his companions and had managed to douse the flames off himself by rolling around on the ground.

“Tasty human!” it growled in what little human dialect it knew.
Aiden began to make peace with the earth and the air and said a silent prayer to Dwayna when he heard the voice of Cynn.

“Stop right there!” she said. “I won’t let you kill my friend as long as I live!” she yelled.

The Charr made a sound which seemed to be a burst of laughter.
“I mean it!” she said. She sounded like a little girl throwing a tantrum.

“My axe very big. You human, very small,” growled the Charr. “What you do eh?”

Cynn looked around desperately for some what to defeat this foe. Then she looked at the Charr directly in the eyes. Its eyes showed arrogance and bloodlust. Cynn’s eyes showed desperation and determination. They stared for a while as though having a battle of wills.
Then Aiden noticed something odd. The wind began to talk, however it wasn’t talking in the familiar chaotic way that nature so often spoke with. Now the wind seemed to talk with some sort of order, some sort of organised clarity. And it began to pick up strength. It began to speak of fierce things, of anger and retribution.
What began as a small gust of wind suddenly turned violent and angry and the entire camp began to shake terribly. The eyes of the Charr shifted from arrogance to fear. Then it took a step back, its axe taken out of its hand by the echoes of the wind and thrown far away.
Aiden quickly spun around, took out his weakest arrow and fired it into the Charr’s face in a quick motion, the wind carrying the arrow and causing it to become ten times deadlier than it normally would be.
The wind died down as quickly as it had started.

“What did you do?” asked Aiden.

“The thread…” she began.

Quickly their attention was turned to the prisoners in the cages who had witnessed the entire event.

“I’ll get you guys out,” Aiden assured them and within a few minutes he had unlocked the cages using a key he had found from the corpse of a Charr.
There were three of them. A mother, her child and a young man who seemed about the same age as himself. Aiden explained to the mother and child that Arah was to the east, gave them some food and bid them safe journey. As for the young man, he was known as Little Thom and would in time become a legend.

Meanwhile far away a lone crow, black as the night, graceful as the wind and yet crooked like a deformed old creature flew across the sky past many lands. Its eyes scanned the plain searching and prowling like a predator. Finally it had reached its destination, a broken old shrine located on the outskirts of Arah. The streets which surrounded this shrine were dark and dirty, the foulest of men dwelled here for this was the backwater section of the city. Where all the sewerage was diverted. The air reeked of corruption here. The crow fluttered through the window and perched upon the hand of the necromancer known as Malgus, its master.
Malgus would pray daily to the statue of Grenth at the heart of the shrine and then would proceed to study the occult arts of death a dark basement filled with divining tools and scrolls.

“What news from the Charr?” asked Malgus, his eyes brimming with malcontent as he stared into the crows dark eyes.

“Coming! Death!” it chirped in an inhuman croak like some dying creature trying to mimic speech.

“And what word from my master?”

“They… Will… Come,” it sounded out hoarsely. “Your brethren.”

Malgus grinned. An army of necromancers would come under the guise of aiding King Dorian. And in the last moment they would turn against him. He had already made a pact with the Charr. The destruction of the human lands would aid them in their bid to create a massive army of undead which would ravage all the lands of Tyria. And he, Malgus would lead them as their general.

megalomaniac_mutant · Jan 23, 2006, 07:07 PM // 19:07

Awesome writing.

Hero Chaos · Feb 02, 2006, 07:15 PM // 19:15

Question: Is Lucius the one who made the Cataclysm happen or was it Vizier...the dude from Sanctum Cay? I have read the whole story so dont know if you mentioned it or not.

d3kst3r · Feb 03, 2006, 02:44 AM // 02:44

I'd figured that if Vizier caused the Cataclysm then logically he should have been wiped out as well. As for who did it I'll leave that a mystery for now.

kdhoney44 · Feb 03, 2006, 01:52 PM // 13:52

Awesome writing cant wait to read more

d3kst3r · Feb 04, 2006, 03:09 AM // 03:09

Three

General Dresden set the pile of Charr corpses on fire and stood back with a hand on his nose to prevent the foul smell. It had been the fifth scouting party they had hunted down and killed in just as many days. He knew that there would be dozens more in the field scouting out Orrian outposts and reporting their positions. The least he could do was ensure some of them didn’t make it back.

“Even in death these Charr smell worse than horse dung,” Dresden spat with a menacing look in his eyes. A scar hung under his left eyelid like a sign of malice.

“I wonder why they even bother scouting out our positions,” replied first officer Granice, his tall build made his heavy hammer look like a toy in comparison. “If what our own scouts say is true they have enough troops to wipe mankind off the face of Tyria. If it weren’t for the Guildwars we might still stand a chance.”

Dresden knew about the hardships of the Guildwars for his family had ruled over one of the most powerful guilds in Orr. The Crystal Dynasty guild owned palaces, armies and had commanded a vast amount of respect. And even at the height of their power, an assassin had managed to sneak into his father’s chambers at night and slit the old man’s throat. Dresden had slain the assassin by himself after his ultra sensitive ears picked up something out of the ordinary which woke him up instantly from a deep sleep in the chamber nearby. When Dresden had struck, the assassin was so surprised by the speed at which his swords move that he could see the fear in his eyes. The swords moved like a blur slicing through flesh and armour in such a manner that the assassin’s arms had not fallen off until five seconds after the cuts.
The assassin had been imported from beyond the sea and was of Zaishen heritage. He suspected treachery from Ascalon and had sworn revenge. However the Charr took it for him when they burst over the wall.
Dresden sighed a long sigh. His battle wounds scarred his body like markings of battle. He was tired and weary and had seen enough bloodshed to last most men a lifetime.
Over on the hill the rest of his battalion were practicing the art of the sword with each other and he felt a feeling of pride in his chest as he watched them. But it was probable they would never become as good as him. His skill with a sword was unparalleled. He was a Swordmaster of the highest order and his skill had so exceeded that of his peers that he possessed a very rare skill. His hands had become so strong and ambidextrous that he was able to wield two swords each with an equal amount of skill as though he were only wielding one. With two swords he could parry any attack be it an arrow or a sword or even a hammer.

“Footwork!” he yelled at a stumbling soldier.

“The men are tired. They’ve been pursuing Charr without sleep for the past three days,” Granice told him. “They need some rest or their reflexes won’t be too sharp.”

“There is no rest when the fate of our lands depends on what we do,” Dresden replied.

Granice placed his hand on Dresden’s shoulder for a while then left to prepare the horses.
Suddenly a cry came from atop the hill. Dresden spun around and saw one of his scouts running towards him, a young ranger boy who looked bruised and tattered.

“Sir! The Charr main force!” he yelled.

“Where?” everyone was silent.

“At least four days march to Orr! They’ll be here at nightfall!”

“We must warn Arah,” Dresden said sternly. “Everyone get mounted, we leave straight away,” he ordered to a frantic packing of bags and supplies.
Across the orange horizon he could already see the sun floating just above the land. The scene was a beauty to behold but contrasted strongly against the bloodshed that was to come. He smiled at the irony of it all. He had little doubt that Arah would be destroyed and that he would die defending his city. But he also knew that there was no other path for him, he was a warrior and that was his destiny. He knew that he, like all men would die sooner or later, whether it be of old age or by the axe of an enemy it made no difference to him.

He turned to his men.

“Prepare an ambush,” he ordered without any hesitation in his voice. Every single one of his troops stopped in their tracks and looked at him. “You heard me, we’re going to attack this threat head on.”

Granice approached him and signalled that he needed to speak to him alone.

“We have a few dozen men with us and you propose we take on the main force of the Charr army? Its suicide.”

“No. I wish to slow them down, buy Arah as much time as we can,” he smiled.

The first attack came the next morning. A mass horde of Charr were walking across a clear path that led through the forest. They all moved on foot as there were no beasts that would carry them. They trampled the ground wherever they moved to the resonating beat of their footsteps. The Charr war-leader Uggh thought he noticed something odd about the patch of ground just ahead but decided it was minor, his bestial instincts ignoring the minor details. All of a sudden his forward flank burst into flames and were bloodied by hundreds of sharp spikes which shot out of the ground. They had lost about a dozen soldiers when Uggh pulled back.

“Traps!” he screamed a guttural cry.

The message was relayed quickly by word of mouth all the way to the back of the column which was about fifty miles. Such was the size of this army that they were forced to split into a line formation just to get through the forest area. This in turn made their flanks vulnerable due to the single-file way that they proceeded.
Uggh ordered another bunch of troops to replace his forward flank and this time he was more weary. Snatching a bow from one of his body guards, he fired at the next patch of ground that looked suspicious to him and watched as it burst into flames. The first sign of resistance. But he was not worried, he had more troops to his disposal than there were traps. After all, he was the commander of the biggest standing army in the world of Tyria. This thought made his chest swell with pride and he gave a loud animal-like sneer.

“Timber!” came a voice that was distinctly human deep from the trees which lined the side of the path they were on. The next second many tall trees began to topple down directly onto their path followed by a hail of arrows.

This double strike so confused his troops that they did not know which to react to first, the trees which were falling on them or the arrows which were ripping them to shreds. It all happened so quickly and in an instant most of the forward flanks were suffering casualties. Uggh himself had managed to dodge one of the trees and caught an arrow in his hand in mid-flight. He didn’t become the war-leader from being weak, he was handpicked because he was the fastest, the strongest and the most brutal of them all.

“Return fire!” he ordered his forward flanks while they were already in a state of chaos.

The Charr archers quickly took out their bows and began firing into the darkness of the trees hoping that the sheer number of their shots would take down their foes. But it was hopeless, the many trees provided ample cover and Dresden smiled as he hid in his position behind a fallen log.
Dresden motioned his troops for silence by raising a hand. He looked out at the forward flank of Charr and at the chaos he had caused. More Charr were scuttling over the fallen tree trunks which had blocked their path so they could refill their flanks. He spotted the leader of them all, a big powerful Charr who had sharp eyes and carried a giant axe the size of a man. He knew it would be folly to attempt an assassination as this leader would surely be able to kill any man under Dresden’s command without much effort. He had seen the creature catch an arrow in mid-air after all.
Uggh by now had sent a scout party of forty Charr into the dense forest, more than enough to defeat Dresden’s small force in open battle. However this was not open battle. And Dresden knew this forest like he knew his homeland. His men had rolled dirt and grass on their armours to prevent being smelt out by the Charr. The enemy had keen noses.
Dresden motioned to his men to take up new positions which they obeyed quickly and swiftly.
Stomping through the dense forest, the forty or so Charr walked with their weapons drawn and their senses sharp, but not sharp enough as they had already passed Dresden’s force who were all standing hidden behind tree trunks holding their breath. And now that the Charr had walked passed them, their backs were in full view of the humans.
One group of Orrian soldiers took out bows and aimed their shots, the other group took out their swords and prepared to charge.

“Fire!” Dresden yelled as dozens of arrows shot into the backs of the Charr knocking most of them dead instantly.

Before there was even a time for pause the other group of Orrian soldiers charged in right behind the arrows at full speed cutting down as many Charr as they could before the Charr even had time to spin around. The remaining handful of Charr still standing were swiftly dealt with, Dresden beheading two in one swift movement using both swords.
Dresden’s heart was racing from the adrenaline which came with such bloodlust and the careful and lethal execution excited him. He was about to congratulate his men and move onto the next phase of his plan when suddenly he heard the loud footsteps of heavy beasts running. He turned around and saw what seemed like hundreds of shapes moving towards him in the distance.

“Move!” he ordered and so the men did.

They ran to a pre-determined spot behind a giant fallen log and knocked their bows. This time Uggh had sent an army of over a hundred Charr to take out their human harassers. However Dresden had planned for this also and within moments the new force had stepped into the next bunch of traps that had been planned for them. The advancing Charr stopped abruptly in an area brimming with traps that sprang dust, flame and spikes into the air. From above in the high trees four of Dresden’s men were waiting hidden in the branches with large containers full of oil. They poured the oil down onto the Charr soldiers and another second later a dozen arrows with burning tips fired into the fray setting the hundred Charr on fire.
The screaming of dieing Charr was sickening and inhuman, the smell even worse. They watched for what seemed an hour but was actually a few minutes at the agony. Finally the last fire died down and Dresden was relieved. He had done his duty and probably the most efficient ambush of his career. He would look back on this day with pride and dignity. That all came to a halting crash when he felt the sword slide under his chin.

“Petty humans,” came the growling voice of a Charr.

He looked around and saw the rest of his men all in similar positions with Charr holding swords to their necks.
Then it dawned on him what had happened. The first group of Charr had been sent to locate their position within the forest. The second group was a distraction. However Uggh had sent a third group that would circle around and catch them from behind while they were busy killing the second group.

“Human flesh,” another Charr growled while licking its lips.

Food For the Charr, thought Dresden. How unflattering a way to die.

Goats17 · Feb 04, 2006, 10:11 PM // 22:11

dude, you are an amazing writer. U should be an author

d3kst3r · Feb 05, 2006, 03:58 AM // 03:58

Thanks to everyone for their support and motivation. Here's chapter four.

Four

Little Thom, despite his name was not little by any means. He was a strongly built young man with much body hair and even more brute strength. But despite this he was rather simple minded and honest. These were qualities that made Aiden smile during the past day as they travelled through the forest and had recently arrived at the foot of a large mountain.

“According to the map there is a secret passage that serves as a shortcut that will take us to the Dead Forest,” Aiden explained gazing at the map.

“But what’s the catch?” Little Thom asked with just a hint of arrogance.

“Well this map seems to be over a century old… and nobody I know of has ever crossed through this passage since this map was written.”

He looked accusingly at the skull and crossbones on the tattered piece of paper which marked the entrance to the passage. But what disturbed him the most was the name of the passage itself: Point of No Return.
Upon entering they all noticed that there was absolutely no light within. The only light came from a torch which Cynn held close to her. Chestnut stood near Cynn for he was afraid of the dark and protested strongly with Aiden not to come here.
The passage was like a giant maze, each path splitting off into five more the deeper they went. It was no surprise that no mortal had dared venture here for a hundred years. Luckily for them they had a map.

“I don’t like this place,” Cynn said as the torch shook in her hand. “It feels like there something alive down here that isn’t natural.”

“I don’t like it either,” replied Aiden. “I can’t sense the wind or the heart beat of Dwayna.”

At that moment they saw a giant stone figure with an inhuman face of such unnatural ferocity they all became startled.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say that was a statue of Grenth,” Little Thom said and shook them all out of a daze. “The necromancers must have built this place.”

They carried on through the darkness without a single spoken word for what seemed like an eternity. They had no sense of time, no sense of direction and no sense of their surroundings. All they had to guide them was a tattered map given to them by Lucius. After a while they decided to rest due to weariness. Chestnut was feeling ill and there was no water or pastures in this place.
The set up a small camp in a cavernous cave-like area where they decided to rest and have something to eat.

“Thom,” said Aiden placing his hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for coming with us.”

“What choice do I have?” he replied. “There’s nothing left for me. The Searing took everything from me. My father’s lands, our prized hogs…”

“I remember your prized hogs,” smiled Aiden. “The pride of the outer settlements I seem to recall.”

“Life was so simple back then. All we had to think about were the land and our annual hog competition. My family stayed well clear of the Guildwars.”

Thom and Aiden had known each other briefly during childhood when Aiden’s father used to get rid of the pesky river skale from destroying the crops. His father took pride in clearing pests for farmer and earned a good living at it too. During the warm season he’d take Aiden with him and together they’d shoot skale. Those were some of his favourite moments of his childhood. And now all that was gone, ripped apart by the Charr. A tear appeared in his eye as he remembered his father fighting a horde of Charr. Outnumbered twenty to one the old man was still able to put up a good fight and take a few down with him.

“Run Aiden! Forget about me!” his father had bid him in the heat of battle, the fires of Ascalon burning, the sky black with smoke.

“What about you?” Aiden yelled back unable to do anything but watch as the Charr surrounded him.

“Dying is part of nature boy,” his father’s voice contained a warmth and character despite his impending death. “I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”

And without another word his father turned and began to fight with boy in hand and dagger in pouch, his chest beaming with pride as he fought off the Charr with his last breath.
Tears streamed down Aiden’s face as he ran further and further away, his legs felt like they were made of stone and a heavy burden upon his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Cynn said sitting close to him.

“Yeah… I was just thinking,” Aiden replied gazing directly into the fire of the torch.

“There’s something I want to tell you about,” she began once Thom lay back against a wall to sleep. “About how you found me.”

Aiden remembered the morning he had found Cynn. It was in one of the outer settlements. She was buried within a heavy ruin that was once her farm house. It had burnt to such a degree that it was pitch black and ready to crumble as though made of charcoal. What alerted him was the sound of a young girl crying. When he investigated he was surprised to find Cynn lying within the rubble with a few minor scratches.

“I’m sorry about your family,” Aiden tried to comfort her. “I know what it’s like.”

“I have a dark secret I’ve not told anyone. When the Charr came and destroyed everything around me something happened,” she had the look of an angry child trying to get rid of a heavy burden.

She was looking out the window of her family home as the Charr surrounded the farm burning everything in sight. Her mother, her father and her brothers ran out armed with swords to fight off this threat but knowing that they would meet their doom.

“I want to help you fight,” she cried as her family were getting ready to meet the Charr threat.

“No Cynn! You are too young, you must stay inside where it’s safe,” her stubborn father replied. Then he placed her hand on her face gently and sighed. “You are my daughter and I love you dearly. It would kill me to see you in any danger.”

“Please daddy.”

“You stay here,” was the final reply.

Moments later she watched and wept as her entire family were slaughtered like the very farm animals they kept before a feast. She banged her fists against the wall in terror as she Charr began to set the farm house on fire. She cried at the sound of beast-like laughter outside. As the fire crept inside and spread her dread turned to pure hatred at the Charr. Closer and closer the flames got, the smoke made her cough uncontrollably. How badly she wanted to just somehow control the flames that were engulfing her and force them upon her foes. Such fury burnt within her that suddenly she let out the loudest yell she had ever though possible and such was the fury that was unleashed that the flames themselves began to reel back.
Outside the farm house the Charr watched in astonishment as the fire leapt up from the hut in the shape of some sinister phoenix that had risen from the ashes. They all tried to flee in terror as the phoenix flew around engulfing everything in its path killing dozens of Charr instantly.
Such chaos had never been seen before by the Charr, it was like something totally unholy and vengeful and unstoppable. A few of the Charr fired arrows at it to no effect before it engulfed them also. A trail of death and destruction was left in its wake before all the fires suddenly just went out seemingly from exhaustion. And inside the house Cynn lay quietly with no tears left to cry and no more will to live.
Aiden wrapped a warm blanket around Cynn and hugged her. At this moment he felt as though he’d give his life to protect her, to save her from the horrors she had faced.

“I’m so sorry,” he said with a sadness in his voice.

They rested for what seemed an eternity in the darkness of the passage known as the Point of No Return until Thom woke up wearily. For a temporary moment he forgot where he was, his dreams had been unpleasant and served as a reminded of what had been destroyed.

“Wake up. We need to move,” he said rousing Aiden and Cynn from their sleep.

They packed quickly and began to move further into the dark unknown with a future that was uncertain and little hope left within them.

Goats17 · Feb 06, 2006, 02:28 AM // 02:28

Honestly dude, I would buy a book from you. If you are not taking writing in University i will hunt you down and slap you. YOU ARE AMAZING. Keep'em coming.

d3kst3r · Feb 09, 2006, 02:50 AM // 02:50

Five

Just three more days were left to prepare for the oncoming Charr. The defences had been well prepared outside the city perimeter with thousands of Arah’s armed guards lined up along the walls bearing the royal crest. Their weapons promptly sharpened, their armour cleaned. And within the city itself the residents were hysterical with fear, the atmosphere was that of mass panic. A handful of people fled the city to the country-side for safety. However like all big disasters, the majority would stay back to safe-guard their houses and their possessions as though they were the only things that mattered to them in this life.
Houses were being boarded up, shops being closed, the law was hard to contain as so many of Arah’s armed men had been forced into or conscripted into the army.
That day as the sun slowly began to set over the murky orange horizon, Lucius retreated to the Inner Sanctum of the city in a troubled state. All day long he had been having an impending feeling of doom, a feeling so strong it made him physically ill that his gut felt sour and he was unable to eat.
The Inner Sanctum of the city was located right at the city’s heart, straight underneath the royal palace. It was located deep and dark under the ground and was guarded by powerful magical seals.
Lucius walked through the main corridor leading to the Inner Sanctum whispering the chants casually which unsealed each magical door in front of him. All in all there were about thirty doors, each one with a different password required to unseal it. Lucius was one of only a handful who knew the magical chants to open them.
The Inner Sanctum itself was both dark and murky like some sort of abandoned basement that was centuries old. Mould and dust hang in the air and an unnatural light burned from the ceiling which provided just enough illumination for the eyes to see around.

“Artifacts of Power!” Lucius exclaimed in awe as he always did whenever he came to such a place.

Scattered all across the room were dozens upon dozens of the most dangerous artefacts in the land. Artefacts that no one man was allowed to possess for fear of the destructive power he could wield. The law of Arah stated that theft of any such artefact would result in public execution, something that had not occurred for centuries.
The artefacts themselves were assembled by the gods back in the ancient days and were placed into mankind’s hands for safe keeping on the condition that they never be used unless in the most dire situations.
This was a most dire situation.
Lucius’ eyes scanned the artefacts in the room. There was the Sword of Khartoum, a powerful weapon wreathed in flame which is said to have been used by the first hero to slay the powerful Titans. There was the Unnamed Hero’s Skull, a powerful necromancer weapon believed to be made from the skull of that very hero who defeated the Titans. The Original Bow of Ithas lay on a shelf, it was believed to be a bow which never missed its target. He could feel the power emanating from all these artefacts at once, filling his being, beckoning him to their use. But he would have none of it for mankind had sworn an oath to the gods to protect them.

“Beautiful aren’t they?” came a voice from the dark.

“Who are you?!” Lucius demanded to know.

“I was sent for by Malgus. I lead the Dark Aura Guild, the most powerful guild of necromancers in the land. And I was sent to Arah to aide in the oncoming war,” came a voice that was both regal and calm.

“Who gave you permission to enter this place?”

To this question the stranger smiled and took a step out of the darkness. It was only then that Lucius realized the size of this man. He was both tall and extremely strongly built. He wore robes which covered most of his body and a tall round turban-like hat on his head. His face was tanned and he had a slight goatee. But it was his eyes which gave him away as a necromancer. Those twin pale specks which spoke of a lifeless existence devoted to the dark arts. However this man was extremely healthy looking to be a necromancer, a fact which made Lucius wonder.

“I once served in the royal court Arah a few decades ago. I see the seals haven’t been changed.” Then after a slight pause he introduced himself. “My name is Vizier,” he smiled.

Lucius shook his hand hesitantly trying to find out his intentions.

“What leads you to the Inner Sanctum,” he asked Vizier after regaining his composure.

“This place draws me. These artefacts are works of art and I long to glance upon the finest artwork in the land,” Vizier replied but Lucius had a feeling it was more to it than that.

Then all of a sudden Vizier picked up one of the artefacts, the Unnamed Hero’s Skull.
Lucius quickly moved to point his staff at Vizier in a defensive position.

“It’s a marvel such powerful tools are no longer used,” Vizier said casually and coolly.

There was a moment of long silence and Lucius could feel the tension rising through his body like a chill.

“You know the agreement with the gods…” Lucius said, his voice shaky.
Vizier then casually placed the skull back where he found it and smiled warmly.

“Well it’s time I went to prepare my guild for battle,” he said and walked out of the Sanctum leaving Lucius alone.

Sweat was gleaming down Lucius’ forehead. He had seen the greed in Vizier’s face and had tried to read his mind but the barriers were too strong for him to penetrate.

“These necromancers are up to something,” he muttered to himself before he too left the chamber.

Meanwhile several stories above, the King sat on his throne receiving scores of war reports from the front lines. Hundreds of messengers hustled and bustled their way through the royal court each day and the atmosphere there had reached fever pitch. The King had not slept for days and a troubled look crossed his face.

“Your leading general Dresden is reported missing,” came the message from a young man.

This only added to the mounting tensions in the King’s mind. The previous day he had lost an entire battalion who had set up an outpost near Orr’s perimeter. No doubt the main attacking flank of the Charr army had slaughtered them before they could report back.

“Give me a report on troop numbers on our side,” he ordered his chief priest.

“Currently we have two hundred and fifty-two archers, six hundred and nineteen warriors, a dozen elementalists trained in the arts of area effect spells, forty-three monks, fourteen mesmers most of which however were called to duty from the local Actors Guild where the normally perform plays, and a batch of necromancers have just arrived and are awaiting count.”

“And how many do the Charr have?” he asked in a troubled voice.

“Rough estimates… Twenty thousand will battle us at Arah, another eighty thousand right behind if they ever need to replenish their ranks.”

That was a total of over a hundred thousand Charr that would have to be slain in order for them to survive. The King slumped against his thrown trying to overcome his fear with pure determination.
The others in the court looked to him for support and hope for that was all they had left.

“We need more conscripts,” he finally said. “Get every man, woman and child over the age of fourteen and give them a weapon.”

A wave of hopelessness suddenly spread throughout the court. King Dorian was determined to take on this threat head on for the City of the Gods was too precious a thing to have destroyed. His family had sworn a blood oath to guard it with their lives and the lives of their people and he would not be the one to break it. However the true threat was not the Charr. The true threat was within.

storm of daeth · Feb 10, 2006, 12:17 AM // 00:17

awesome plz write more im hooked

longboringname · Feb 10, 2006, 12:30 AM // 00:30

what he said

d3kst3r · Feb 10, 2006, 03:26 AM // 03:26

At around Chapter Five I've finally formed together the entire story in my head. Before that I was just writing hoping that the story would form itself. All I'll say is that the conclusion is going to be a gigantic finale of Biblical proportions :P
Anyways here's chapter six, which has also been by far the most difficult chapter to write so far.

Six

“We have arrived the Dead Forest,” proclaimed Aiden as they stepped out from the darkness of the passages, out of the side of the mountain to behold scores upon scores of sickly looking trees as far as the eye could see. “According to this map the Tower of the Dark Elementalists should be somewhere inside this vast forest.”

Little Thom gazed over at the map and sighed.

“Whoever wrote this map didn’t mark it clearly enough. The tower could be anywhere! It’s like a needle in a haystack!”

“Knowing Aiden’s skills I bet he could find that needle,” Cynn joked, it was a pleasant distraction from all the impending feelings of doom they had.
Aiden listened to the wind intently trying to pick up traces of whispers from the leaves.

“These trees… they do not speak as though they are alive,” his voice was sombre. “This place is cursed!”

They all looked at each other out of a growing feeling of dread and proceeded on.
Aiden was right, the colours of the forest were sickly green and drab browns everywhere the went. The trees looked shrivelled and unnatural, like grotesque statues made by some long dead race. The sun light barely penetrated through thick trees and began to remind them of the dark passage the further they travelled inwards.
As they travelled further within strange things began to happen. They began to hear faint voices like bizarre traces in the wind that were hard to make out. A few times Cynn claimed that something cold had touched her but there was nothing around. No animals, no insects, nothing. Even the shape of the trees began to wane as though they were trying to convey a feeling of unwelcomeness to the travellers.

“I don’t like this place,” Cynn spoke in a quiet voice.

“Neither do I. An ancient war was fought here centuries ago and many people died,” Aiden explained. “Their corpses were not properly buried but instead were sunk into the soil gradually. Their spirits still linger here.”

It was no less than a few minutes later that they suddenly witnessed something which stunned them. Before them they saw a plain where thousands of spectral beings stood. These beings were in the forms of men and wore armour and carried swords and were in the middle of a mighty battle like some sort of scene out of another age. Their enemies were not visible and it looked as though they were fighting thin air however the injuries that were inflicted upon them were testament to the hazards of the battle.

“Regroup! This time we have them!” yelled a gruff looking spectre that seemed to be the general of the army.

The rest of the army regrouped and charged at their non-existent attackers only to be torn to shreds by some sort of powerful fire magic that burned them all into scorched bones. Mere seconds later they were back and looking healthy once more and the battle had restarted.

“They must be ghosts,” Cynn said after the shock had subsided.
Aiden approached the army leaving Cynn and Little Thom behind and cowering behind some thick trees.

“Where are you going?” Little Thom asked with a shaky voice.

“To talk to them,” came the reply.

Aiden approached the general who seemed not to acknowledge his presence at all.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the Tower of the Dark Elementalists,” Aiden asked the ghost general.

“Not now,” the general replied without looking down at Aiden. “Today I lead my men to glory.”

And before Aiden could say another word the general bid his men to attack and Aiden could only watch as the thousand or so ghosts ran into fight their none-existent foes. The battle raged for a while and then the general gave the order to regroup.

“Regroup! This time we have them!” he yelled. Aiden sighed and shook his head as once again the ghost army were obliterated.

“This is hopeless,” he moaned as the ghost army respawned a moment later.

By now Cynn and Little Thom had come out of hiding and seemed to be no longer afraid of the ghosts.

“Let me talk to him,” Cynn said and approached the general.

“Eh? What’s a little girl like you doing here?” the general said acknowledging her presence as she approached.

“I’ve come to warn you of their tactics,” she replied. “The king sent me as a spy to find out their strengths and weaknesses and to warn you just before the battle.”

The general grinned and gave a loud barbaric roar.

“And what information do you bring?” he asked.

“I warn you never to regroup during the battle. Doing so will give them enough time to cast a devastating fire spell that will destroy your army in one swift move,” she warned him in a serious tone.

The general seemed to ponder her words for a minute and then thanked her for the information. The ghosts charged into battle gallantly with swords drawn and shields raised. This time however the general did not give the order to regroup and suddenly everything stopped. All the soldiers looked around puzzled and in confusion.

“What’s happened?” the general asked nobody in particular. “I feel as though… as though I’ve been… set free.”

“You have all been dead for centuries, slain by the very foes you fought here. Go now in peace and know that your sacrifices have never been forgotten by the rest of mankind,” Cynn spoke with a wisdom that was far beyond her age.

They all stood in the confusion for a while until the general nodded in silent agreement and they all started to fade like dust being blown away by the wind.

“Wait! Before you go, where is the Tower?” Aiden asked.

“Climb the highest tree and you will see it,” the general replied pointing his finger over at an area beyond the plain. “I bid you farewell…”

And with that the ghost army that haunted the Dead Forests for centuries were no more for they had found peace.
The group walked to where the general had pointed and surely enough, there they found a tree so large, its base would take a grown man several moments just to circle around it. Hundreds of vines hung around it making it easy enough to climb.
Aiden secured himself into position and began to climb the mighty tree, vines in hands and all his gear on floor below him. Cynn and Little Thom looked on, ready to catch him if he ever fell.
With his nimble feet and swift hands, within minutes he was at the top. He looked down at his travelling companions far below him and they seemed to be the size of pebbles. Fortunately for Aiden, he was not afraid of heights.
Clambering through some thick leaves, he peered out at the forest. The view was breathtaking, there were trees as far as the line on the edge of the horizon and the warmth of the sun put a smile on his face for he had not seen it for many days.
But the most spectacular sight was the Tower itself.
To say it was huge was an understatement. It was a giant building made of the blackest stone that reached up far beyond the clouds. It was so high that Aiden had to tip his head over just to examine it. Never in the lands of Tyria did he believe that such a giant building could exist. A building so tall that the top of it reached beyond the heavens. And suddenly he felt a strong feeling of uncertainty. He wondered what sort of people the Dark Elementalists were; these spell casters who had shunned the rest of the world and exiled themselves to live in this tower forever. Would they help against the Charr? So many thoughts and emotions buzzed through Aiden’s head at that moment like a swarm of bees that he nearly forgot where he was.

“Do you see it?” he heard Little Thom’s voice from the foot of the tree.

“It’s amazing!” Aiden exclaimed. “Truly amazing!”

Symeon · Feb 10, 2006, 03:51 PM // 15:51

Your commitment and the quality of your writing has me almost speechless...I'm amazed...if you don't have a job yet, become an author, I want to read your books - really!