Curse

BE|Dac · Apr 10, 2005, 09:52 PM // 21:52

A Fool’s life

Prologue:

The thin fog had risen from the west, the evil in the world was thick, and the night shrouded everything. The wind blew through his cloak and sent shivers down his spine. The gates of Lion Arch loomed in front him, with the vines of the Éclair plant wrapped around them it looked almost alive. He knew for sure he would never see it again, he had promised himself to not be afraid of this day. He knew he had no reason to stay, living an ordinary life hiding behind the walls was worse then death. There was nothing for him here; he hated every day in this boring wretched place. He wanted to be out in the wilds and find his place in this world; somewhere out there was a place he would belong. Somewhere he thought, anyway it was too late now, and I can’t go back. He fingered the pieces of cold metal in his pouch, all that he had stolen. He walked out under the arching gates; the guards simply smirked as he left. They must have been thinking “Another fool”, well I am no fool, I will not sit here and wait to die, there is no safe place, they thought Ascalon was safe, that’s why I’m alone now. But I will find where I belong. The gates of lion arch faded as he walked away…

Five years later

What a fool I was. Why am I sitting here in this blasted forsaken charr of a camp! The sun loomed on the horizon and he knew it would be night soon. He thought to himself, maybe it will be my turn, and this will be my last night. He walked away from the fire and the dirty jokes of the other mercenaries. He could never walk away from the smell, no one cared about cleanliness when you where a day away from death. He raked his hand through his hair, it caught halfway on tangles, and frustratingly he pulled through despite the pain. He could feel the icy breeze pierce his cloak and send shivers through his spine. He didn’t mind at all though, these chills felt good. He pulled out his bow and fingered the runes on the side, etched long ago. His fingers ran along the gash in the bows side, he got lucky that day, but many did not. Adventures and dreams in youth had turned to poverty and starvation now; his poverty had made him a mark to the mercenary camps. They offered food and adventure; he ended up being nothing more then a low paid slave. Shipped from area to area from bidder to bidder. Protecting lush fortifications and halls around Tyria from the Ullen River to the Shiver peak Mountains, while being fed morsels and sleeping with the pigs. Now he was in a really good spot, heh, the cheap and tyrannical Remnant Guild hired him, they where raiding the mountains north of Riverside District. He was here because his employer, the guild, Remnants, had declared war on the owners by force of these mountains. It was unknown who they where, except that their interference of the a fishing trade roads through the mountains and had been hurting the Remnants. He had no desire to be here but leaving meant death. Even with there skill in fighting, the Remnants would easily kill them all, and what would they eat. Another shiver down his spine set him out of his reverie; he glanced toward the Remnant camp behind the mercenary’s, and saw the huge tent he and the fellow “mercs” had put up. He could see as the magical energies of fire swirled and glimmered around the tent to keep it warm. He had no dreams of glory now, even at his young age, dreams die fast in the face of reality. He walked up to his roll and layed down to sleep, he felt the rocks of the ground edge into side as his eyes closed and he fell to a dreamless sleep.
They had been marching now for four hours, the effects of fatigue where hurting the mercs, while the remnant monks kept themselves and guild mates fresh and on edge. He had no such fatigue though; his knowledge of nature led his legs to flow like the wind drawing invisible energy from nature. The only freedom he had was with nature and he relied on it to keep himself alive. It was the only thing that kept him going sometime was his love of nature; the protection it gave him with his talents was the only reason he was alive. His mind muted the drums and clanging of metal, his own footfalls where so repetitive he did not notice them. The forces the Remnants had sent where not that large, only twelve mercenaries, and a full squad of remnants. Twenty people total. He glanced at the Remnant squad, a Monk; Jacob was his name, glanced back. He quickly looked away from the mystic’s eyes. Monks where set apart from the rest of Tyria’s citizens, even necromancers where more normal then the freakish monks. They hardly spoke, hardly had emotion at all from what he saw. They never wasted there time with Mercs, he had seen many of his friends, back when he bothered to have them, slain because a monk would not waste his talents on them. Jacob had a heartless attitude; he did it for the gold and nothing more. He was the leader of this raid group; his talents had earned him much fame in Remnants. He had the talent to make a person impervious to attack and redirect a cut from a blow into regained vigor. He would perform his prayers and his energy; glowing light blue mists of pure energy would flow out onto his ally and knock the blades and arrows that tried to invade its space.

He had no such amazing skills, he could fire arrows, but he took pride in his ability to mimic nature and animals to speed his reactions and accuracy. The whole group though was haphazard, but the Remnants controlled this path and the fools would pay, no one in the area had ever challenged the Remnants.

The where marching along a gully with heavy woods on both sides, he was a watch and used his nature abilities to sense anything in the trees along the path, but they did not fear anyone and welcomed conflict, a few dead mercs meant little. He had been sweeping his keen eyes across the trees, they rose high above the group and relayed who the real masters of this area where. The path was winding ahead and the trees blocked all sight far ahead, the mountains that lay on either side of this valley towered above them like huge walls. Then he sensed something in the distance, the wind felt weird. He raised his bow and readied an arrow, his group halted and swords where drawn and Jacob’s mystic energy flew out over his guild mates. He could hear all the trees speaking, chanting, an elementalist preparing a massive spell. Everyone moved to spread out. More blue energy started to surround the Remnants. The other monk was also prepared to hopefully save anyone near death. The chanting continued, he heard strings flex with his innate ability to read the wind. He simply stood there has he heard the twangs of bows being fired. A hail of arrows came down around them all, he stood his ground and swung his bow to collide with the approaching arrow, and then releasing his own, and firing into the woods in the direction of the arrow, he knew it would not hit such a skilled ranger. The others had been prepared and there shields up. But Even more scary was the chanting had ended, and a black cloud appeared overhead, He could see the huge rocks come out of nowhere infused with magical destruction, he felt the earth tremble at the approach, and the sudden realization, We are so Blasted. His muscles came alive with beastly power he scrambled out of the path and underneath a massive tree. He crouched around the side of a tree to watch the destruction, Jacobs chant had begun and the meteors around his guild mates where swatted away, rolling into balls of destruction crashing through the trees. Large scorched paths being forged by these meteors etched into the ancient forest. He could feel the pain of the trees and grimaced. The mercs where not so lucky and a foolish young blade, was turned into mush as a meteor exploded next to him, sending fragments of rock through his body. The rest of the group was not so injured except a veteran that lost a left hand and the rattled nerves. He had seen too much to even give the morbid carcass of a once young mercenary a second thought. He was more interested in why such powerful agents where in this area, and if he would survive. He saw a figure in the woods where the arrows came from, he fired an arrow, and it passed through the figure. The remnant arcanist sent a glowing lightning orb streaking across the path towards the area; it exploded sending a thunder shockwave in the area. The whole area lit up in arcane lightning, so bright was the light he had to look away, after the flash ended three of the scariest looking warriors came out of the clearing charging, they clashed with the meat shield of Mercs in front of the Remnants squad. They all held the biggest hammers he had seen and swung them like they where twigs. The mercs made up mostly of warriors readied their weapons. The first mysterious warrior, in a full Knight’s set of green armor, simply charged into two mercs and swung his hammer from above his head crashing into the head of a brave but dead merc. The merc’s body crumpled with a disgusting sound into the ground, his friended tried to slash at the hammer wielding monster’s side, only to have it crash against stone like skin, turning to flee, but his side was quickly bludgeoned sending him to the ground. The other mercs did not fare any better, with the death of five mercs at their hands. The remnants had begun to try to weaken these monsters, shooting arrows and arcane energies arcing through the well-lit sky. The warriors simply absorbed the pain and seemed invulnerable. Another Lightning orb screeched through the sky towards the warriors slaughtering the mercs. It hit the Green Knight in the side and sent him skidding across the ground. Well they don’t seem that invulnerable, at least one of them is dead he thought as they grinded through the merc squad killing the last of them. After all the mercs where dead, he noticed the other figures walking out, their Master Elementalist and a dark skinned Archer. He noticed the warrior getting up with a swirl of green around him and realized that whoever these people are, they have a monk of equal power of Jacob to heal that powerful of an attack. His bowshots, like a steady rhythm, flew out into the enemy but with the effectiveness of drilling a hole in rock with a mallet. He saw a warrior turn his way, quickly ran along the tree line behind the Remnant’s. He might die later for his cowardice, but it beat the pain the hammer would bring to his insides.

The Remnant squad seemed shaky but confident; they had never fought anything like this resistance. While they had crushed large groups of weaklings, a force of this magnitude was rare. Jacob shouted something and the warriors created a line, with the around arms length away from each other. The four of them looked no match in size for the opposing hammer monsters. The two archers prepared on the flanks, while Jacob, the arcanist, and the healing monk stayed in the back. The opposing knights had no insignia, must be renegades of an old guild he thought. The master elementalist though he noticed with his eyesight, even from this far, had a black insignia on his chest, with a red evil looking skeletal bird on it. He thought, they must be a poor guild then to not afford insignia imbuing. Even the Remnants, considered a weak guild, although powerful in the area, had insignias. The three hammer warriors walked up around thirty feet from the Remnant front line. It seemed the unknown guild would charge the Remnants. The ranger and arcanist moved forward and begin preparing, the ranger igniting a fiery arrow, while the arcanist became shrouded with many arcane auras. The remnants followed suit preparing their blades and weapons with their own energies. The regular hail of arrows was stopped for this time as they both prepared to unleash everything on the opponent. He noticed the shadowy figure again standing behind a tree. He readied an arrow and let forth a powerful shot arching, as it passed through the tree with its force, it also passed right through the figure. He could tell though that he had interrupted what seemed a chant. Then he noticed the figure, which he guessed was the monk; begin a new chant by the exquisite movement of his body. He decided now was a good time to not die, so he unhooked his arrow and tried to blend in with the foliage to watch the battle.

The warriors on both sides begin shouting, the muscles on both sides bulging with energy. A charge shout was given, and led by the green knight the unknown guild’s strong warriors charged, A great plume of fire erupted out of the ground in front of the Elementalist with the insignia, it flew up in the air swirling, then begin raining fire on the Remnant group, The archer’s ignited arrows began flying out at Jacob. All the fire and these arrows where batted away by the powerful protection of Jacob. But when the hammer warriors reached the remnant front line, he knew the protection was not invulnerability, and would be worn down. The Green knight clashed with the best knight in the squad, a duelist, his sword and movement dodging the Green’s blows while replying with thrusts and cuts. He could see the fine mist of the hidden monk flow into these wounds and repair them. The monk had begun walking out into the open. The battle clashed on with no side dominating, the hammers banging heavily against shields and invisible energy when the shield was too slow. The arcanist spells and the archer’s arrows never landed past the shield of energy. Jacob was weakening though. The lightning and arrows where constantly hailing out from the remnant’s ranged and arcane soldiers. But it seemed none of the damage got through. Then it seemed like the whole unknown guild’s troops all became twice as strong, A huge immense Fireball came crashing down through the protection in the middle of the Remnant, while the Hammers rang down with twice the speed, shattering shields and the arm’s beneath them. The green knight hit with a backbreaking smash on the duelists side, sending him to the ground in an unnatural position. They had simply been holding back, waiting for the right to crash through the protection. One of the Remnant’s warriors dead, a ranger injured and on fire, the broken arm’s of the front line from the Crushing blows also replaying in his mind. At this moment the monk appeared and looked like the scariest thing he had ever seen. With the most complex tattoo on his baldhead, his tan skin, and silk red clothes. But that was not the scary part; in his hands he held an artifact that must be of immense power, light orbs spun around it, the energy alone must be insane. He seemed casual to Jacob’s intense concentration, he must not be using any of his energy. As this happened he knew the Remnant’s where dead. They had been holding back, gaining adrenaline. He thought to flee, but realized there was no point. They knew he was there; probably keep him alive to relay the slaughter. Has the hammer warriors blow’s crashed through the protection smashing the rest of the front line, the Elemantalist and ranger both hit the Remnant arcanist with a coordinated volley of flame, he fell to the ground on fire, the healing monk trying to save him but he could not repair the burnt flesh. Now only the two monks and ranger remained. The hammer warriors charged again with unnatural speed at the ranged, two of them hitting him at once with huge thuds as he tried to dodge the blows, he screamed as he felt his insides being smashed together. He fell. They turned there charge towards the healer, Jacob prepared a chant, but the three warriors striking at once as an arrow went through his once powerful body was too much, he fell silently, ignoring the pain. Then Jacob facing, down his foes, had all of his energies concentrated around him. The hammers began thudding against the shield has his expressionless face awaited what was imminent. The arrows hitting it. He noticed the elementalist performing a chant; he looked for the effect and saw a massive meteor streaking from the heavens. It spun in the air, at its immense speed it crashed down on the blue aura sending it cracked into the air where it dissolved, the next round of hammer blows hit with another loud thud, his body crumpled.

His muscles began to flex from his nature attunement, he turned and took one step, then a piercing pane went through his leg, the longest arrow he had even seen went right through his calf and sunk into the ground, pinning him in place. The only way out of it was to cut off his leg. He closed his eyes, awaiting the peace of death. But it never came, he twisted to look behind him and saw the monk, a voice flowed out, mystical and powerful, “I am Dac, this is Blood Eagle land now.” A second arrow hit him in the chest and he fell over with his leg uncomfortably stuck in place. He dreamt of the next world now, Specious the ranger lay dying.