It is nighttime in Woodhaven. A gentle frigid breeze blows through, and a Charr guard smothers a cough with her parka. The flickering torches barely provide enough light for her to see her colleagues on the opposing wall. There is little noise – she can just about hear the unearthly growl of a cultist's ghostly minion on the tower's main room – but she knows this peaceful quiet will not last forever.
A mild noise teases her senses – a slight whistling sound. Her heart pounds, her grip on her shield tightens; she knows exactly what that sound is, as so many of her wounded and now deceased colleagues have described back at camp. The war is no longer far away – it is about to come crashing right through their door.
"Trebuchet! Brace yourselves!"
The whistling sound has now grown into a deafening roar. The guard looks up, and she sees it – several large flaming projectiles, heading straight for her section of wall. She stands there for a moment, stupefied, all her senses lost in bewilderment. A fellow guard calls her name, pulling her back to reality.
"Stonemaw! Vinna Stonemaw! MOVE!"
It was now or never. She dashes down the stairs to the courtyard with her colleagues, barely managing to brace for impact when the first of the shots hit the wall. The explosive force of the impact knocked her off her feet, and debris rained on her. The next shot sent a piece of wall flying straight for her, crushing her right leg. The pain is too much; her hearing and sight dim as the painful sensations overtake her. She sees the bloodied, broken body of an archer, contorted in an unnatural pose, and cries in pain and despair. She barely hears the sound of the alarm as darkness overtakes her.
Early morning in Rata Sum. Some asura have started ambling around the large superstructure, relieving their fellow researchers as they take shifts watching their experiments. Merchants and travelers alike are walking into the mercantile district, bringing fresh merchandise from all over the world through asura gates. The whirring sound of golems and machinery echoes throughout the various levels and walkways of the bustling city. A charr and an asura stand near the gate to Lion's Arch at Magustan Court. The asura clears his throat.
"Ahem! Ladies and gentlemen, please take a moment out of your busy lives to listen." Some newcomers gather around, eagerly listening. "Join the Battle for the Mists! Defend our world! Geniuses and others needed to keep evil at bay! Fortune, glory, and victory await the conquering warrior! Come one, come all!"
A merchant heckles from the other side of the square. "Oh, sod it, you shameless scum! You already have sent many to their deaths with promises of prestige and victory. No one is going to win the Endless War! You aren't defending anything! It's nothing but an arena where the strong kill for sport, and you are not going to be sending anyone there. Not today, not ever!"
The charr growls at the heckler. "Come off it, or I will gut you where you stand! Mists business is our business, and it definitely isn't yours."
The small crowd surrounding them already had dispersed, having lost all interest. The asura sighs, sitting down. "Let me reiterate, my dear feline friend, for the umpteenth time. These dust bunnies have no interest in gut-wrenching, mind-blowing war! We'll never get recruits. At the rate the Mist War has progressed, and seeing as most of our recruits don't make it back, I'm not surprised the public isn't exactly enthusiastic about joining."
The asura stretches, relaxing on the courtyard steps. "It's your turn to dance and sing. I tell you, the more time I spend in this recruiting gig, the more doubt I have on the things I'm saying. One day, I'll forward my resignation and have a nice vacation in Southsun Cove."
The charr scoffs. "Just be glad you are not on supply escort duty."
He straightens up, letting a sigh. "But, you're right. The Mist War will still be there tomorrow."
"You, there, sylvari in the blue robes! Come here, and let me tell you what I have been through. Let me show you what the Mists are like."
