The Priory encampment overlooking Deserter Flats was something of a bastion of calm in this otherwise fractured land. Researchers and their guards milled around between brightly-coloured tents, and the air was thick with the sounds …
Sleep didn’t come quickly that night. As the thunder broke every minute or two, my heart pounded in my chest. Though I lay on my usual cot, the floor yielded less so than dirt; it …
“I’m sorry, but without the appropriate shipment forms it’s just not going to happen.” The gate guard folds his arms and levels a stare directly at Treen. “Forms? Since when?” Treen responds. “They may not …
The Priory encampment overlooking Deserter Flats was something of a bastion of calm in this otherwise fractured land. Researchers and their guards milled around between brightly-coloured tents, and the air was thick with the sounds of laughter and fevered debate. Whatever the Priory were studying out here, it was enough to keep them busily occupied, and scholars are never happier than when they’re working.
I felt as if myself and my companions were bringing a certain aura of doom into the camp. We were battle-weary and bedraggled, and our newly-acquired ranger alternated between wild sobbing and pitiful wailing. He was still slung over Weir’s shoulder, bleeding profusely down the charr’s back; I was beginning to hope he’d pass out from blood loss sooner rather than later.
We were greeted on the western edge of the encampment by an asura in Priory robes, who seemed unconcerned by our tearful ranger. Hands behind his back, he rocked on his heels, looking up at everyone but me. “Welcome to this humble Priory outpost, travellers. How may I assist you?”
Sleep didn’t come quickly that night. As the thunder broke every minute or two, my heart pounded in my chest. Though I lay on my usual cot, the floor yielded less so than dirt; it was hard and uncomfortable. I could feel every little slit between the hardwood floors. Even with Ragnvaldr lying next to me, his breathing soft and comforting, I could only curse Tobih for calling the bed.
Angel had left her house nearly two hours after we had settled down in our cots and beds. It had been another two and I hadn’t heard the door open or shut. I wondered where she could be. My mind stopped at that and thought of the soft bed again. I couldn’t think very well with how tired I was. My eyelids would become heavy and eventually drop, allowing me almost a minute or two of rest. Then I would wake again, time to change positions to try and find myself a little more comfortable.
Rain poured onto the roof of the house, winds pressing it to the glass of the windows. It was a pleasant sound unlike the thunder. Flashes of light would follow, illuminating the dark corners of the room while creating long shadows in other areas. A single candle’s flame danced in the corner of the room closest to the stairs. The stairs that lead to that warm bed.
“Forms? Since when?” Treen responds.
“They may not want to state it openly, but folks in Lion’s Arch are more nervous than a room full of pirates and a spot marked with an X – no form? Then you’re not coming through with that thing.” The gate guard points at me, but I play my role well and do not move an inch. Play it dumb, Treen and Genni had suggested. I am certain Treen would have liked to add that this would be no problem for me. These asura seem to have little regard for others where intellect is concerned, but he had kept quiet.
“Right,” says Treen. “Where’s the form then?”
“I don’t have one, and besides, it needs to be completed two days beforehand and carry an inspector’s seal. You can get one from-”
Treen interrupted, “I don’t have two days. I need to get this Golem to Hoelbrak.”
Well all, the secret has been revealed! No it’s not something to do with Scarlet, it’s a new contest we’re having! If you haven’t been able to tell from our teasers, CoT is now going to be putting out a webcomic for your enjoyment! What does this have to do with a contest, you ask? Well if you are one of the lucky winners, you may have a chance to design a character to be used by CoT in our comic! Here is a breakdown of the prize and the rules:
Prize: Our comic will be following a group of 5 adventurers on their travels throughout Tyria. Check out the comic page at www.chroniclesoftyria.com/comic to see the character profiles of 2 of the 5 characters, Koorg, and Tryffyn. That’s only two characters I hear you say, well that’s because we’re leaving the creation of the other 3 characters to you! That’s right, the winner of the contest will have their character forever immortalized within our comic as a permanent member of the main party! On top of this, the winner will also receive a portrait of their character as drawn by our resident artist Saune (check out more of her work here: http://maazka.deviantart.com/gallery/)
There will be 3 winners chosen, one for each of the remaining races (human, charr, and asura).
“Why don’t you relax a bit, Kumara?” said Silias.
The ale flowed round and round in my stein as I kept turning the mug on the table. For some reason, staring into the maelstrom eased my tension and drowned out all that was around me. However, Silias’ words butted me out of this trance-like state. I glared at him, but he just smiled back at me, as he always did. Anything I did couldn’t faze him the least, and that annoyed me. However, it did help me keep this job; my attitude should get me fired, but thankfully, Silias managed to put up with me.
“I am relaxed,” I said in a low voice.
I felt a gentle movement at my feet. It seemed that even Thornfang did not believe me. That guy never left my side, although in the beginning, I thought he did; he was just so stealthy that it was easy for him to go unnoticed. A perfect companion for a scout. Over the past month, he had grown quite a bit, more than I expected, which must be a sylvan hound thing.
April 2012. Almost two years ago, Chronicles of Tyria was founded and I could not have hoped for a better outcome. I’ve met wonderful people, we all formed an amazing team and today, I am proud that CoT is still standing tall amongst other Guild Wars 2 communities. We started as a one person fan fiction site and have become a full blown GuildWars 2 fansite with forums, a podcast, community events and more.
I am proud of what Chronicles of Tyria has become and I could never have done it without everyone. However, with new opportunities and the ongoing (but very awesome!) challenge of being the mother of the cutest little Guild Wars spawn ever and being wife to an amazing husband who works hard and away from home weeks at a time, I am writing this post to announce my ‘retirement’ from CoT. While I love and adore this community, I feel like I can’t keep up with everything. The patches, the community events, the work within CoT… I would love to participate in all of this but unfortunately, I am only slowing things down. I promised to be present to several people only to let them down because there isn’t enough time for me to fully work on said events. An MMO community is a big task to take on.
Crispin Redbeard met my attempt at a joke with a glare so icy it would have frozen a fire elemental in its tracks. “That is some courage you have,” he said in a voice so quiet I had to drop my head to hear him, “considering you’re completely surrounded and outnumbered.”
I glanced around and couldn’t suppress a chill down my spine at the sight of the hundreds of pirates waiting eagerly for Redbeard to give the order for a massacre. My gaze continued to my colleagues. Christof’s face was impassive and Ellen’s showed no sign of fear, while the members of my little party and Ellen’s men met the jeers of the pirates with raised chins and rebellious glares. Still, I knew they must be feeling as wary as me. No matter how skillful the soldier, if you’re overrun by vast numbers, it’s likely you’ll fall.
I regretted my joke and met Redbeard’s eyes silently. He walked around me, and I stood motionless, fuming inwardly while he took his time to size me up.
After the raid on InGenium, I found myself unusually thoughtful, trapped by fragmented memories and hazy plans. I kept seeing Zurra’s face, over and over again, but when I tried to picture Flikk, I could recall nothing but blood. He’d been my master and the sole reason I’d left Rata Sum, but when I thought of him, it was bound and broken, slumped in a chair with his life bleeding away from him.
I was so consumed by my thoughts that our next move was made entirely without me. Brooding on a rocky outcrop, I found a heavy charr hand settling on my shoulder. Weir.
“You all right, darling?”
I nodded, allowing myself to feel a moment’s comfort from the touch. For a guardian the size of a house, Weir was surprisingly gentle, and I thought he understood me far better than Spark ever could.
“I’m fine,” I said, getting to my feet and brushing myself off. I realised that, all around me, my companions were packing their belongings and stamping out our meagre fire. “What’s going on?”
“We’re moving,” Weir explained. “Caolinn wants to go south, to some ruins. Spark thinks it’s a good idea.”