He had a bunch of scrolls bundled under his sinewy arms. As he walked his way to the inn, the bridge to Deverol Island to his left caught his attention for a moment. As he looked north, his mind raced across the texts he had just read, about the history of Lion's Arch, about the men and women from all across Tyria who believed the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, about the warm sea breeze rustling his leafy blue sylvari hair.
He spaced out for a second, diving headfirst into the sound of the seagulls flying over the Inner Harbor, the blabbering of merchants complaining about the Black Lion Trading Company, the laughter of human cubs and charr kids, as he always mixed them up.
When he came to himself, he remembered that he had to get his belongings at the Inn, in case he didn't want the tab under his name to grow any heftier before he returned to the Priory facilities in the Shiverpeaks.
But he never had the chance. Just as he straightened himself to go back on his way, a sharp buzz zapped across the sky, in a shape he couldn't quite make out. What followed was a jumbled sequence of events that he couldn't sort out. First he heard the screams, before anything else. After the screeches, the red dust raised from the ground, and the crashes and bangs deafened him. The kids and cubs playing on the bridge were gone, and a large splintered board came flying in his direction, just to sink deep in the sand inches from his leg. He was so astonished that he did not even think of ducking or dodging. The little air he had left in his lungs produced a terrified gasp as he figured out the skyline of the city against the scarlet tinted sky on the horizon. The asura gates were toppled, sprawling bridges were shattered, and docked ships were sunk. Not even the Lion statue escaped the massive attack of whoever did this: the beast's body laid several feet apart from its formerly attached head, water gushing from its hoses aimlessly and making smoke rise from the flames that now took over what used to be the Grand Piazza.
He did not notice when Aleister appeared right behind him with his fern hound. The green-clad ranger tapped his shoulder, and while they haven't been exactly the best of friends, Eosaph couldn't help but look to him and ask: "What do we do now?" he said in a terrified tone. Aleister replied, short and dry: "We get out of here." producing a longbow and sprinting away from the Inn, heading south and making a sign for Eosaph to follow him.
He did not know what became of the scrolls he was holding before, but when he realized he was already holding his scepter and dagger and chanting ancient words older than himself to create protective barriers of wind, earth and water to dispel the numerous projectiles fired by the sylvari and krait who seemed hell-bent on knocking them out. "Toxic Alliance…" Eosaph thought, and his mind raced through what he saw in his last year, from the Molten Alliance displacing norn and charr alike in the Shiverpeaks and Ascalon to the crazed Marionette and its ray of doom. "Scarlet." Aleister said, as if he was reading his mind. Before Eosaph could answer, he stepped the remains of a wrecked bridge, only to see the boards give in and fall through the opened gap. Aleister did a double take and returned to try and take Eosaph out of that pinch. As soon as Aleister stepped what seemed to be the only firm board in the structure, it all fell apart, dropping the two of them into the sea.
As they swam a short stretch back into the beach, a Toxic sylvari sorcerer began conjuring a fountain of foul water beneath their feet, but a precise arrow out of Aleister's bow took him down, while Eosaph extended both hands and drove a mighty fiery phoenix across her chest. A bunch of startled passersby joined them, while they made their ascent back to the remains of another bridge, hoping to walk around the eastern ward and get to the northern exit of the city.
In the middle of the way there was a giant wurm, and using his regained courage Eosaph conjured a hammer made out of air and lightning to face the beast head-on. With the support of two other elementalists and a mesmer, they managed to take the wurm down only to see that twisted metal creatures were taking its place on holding that particular spot. He got separated from Aleister in the mess that followed, but alongside with the other three mages who helped him out, he made his way to the Mystic Plaza to see an even more terrifying scene.
The Mystic Forge was gone, its pedestal now a mound of crushed stones. The sea of people he saw fighting their way to the northern exit was rivaled only by the sea of people he saw fighting in the Plaza itself: parents struggling to save their children, merchants struggling to save their trade, and brave heroes struggling to drive away the wretched creatures who were reaping what those people held dearest. Among this tide of fighters, he could make out the silhouette of Sirena. He wanted to hug her, to smell her leaves and make sure everything was okay. But he knew she was holding her own. Before he lost sight of her, he could see her creating a purple bubble of chaos magic to protect a group of people who were being attacked by Aetherblade pirates in the far west side of the square.
Only now he noticed how hard it was to breathe in the Plaza. First, he assumed it was because of the crowded people in the area. Then he reached for his throat and realized there was more to that. The towering figure of Magnus Irondawn, the chief of the Lionguard, raised his best command voice above the mess, shouting: "Get out of here, you bloody lot. Don't try and be a hero or this cursed miasma will kill you all. Retreat to live another day and save what remains of our city…" but before Eosaph could understand the rest of what the captain said, his eyes blacked out and he felt his legs give in.
A whirl of screams, crashes and whooshes played over and over again in his head, until he found himself making a massive effort to open his eyes again. After blinking three times to steady the focus of his vision, he could understand more or less where he was. Above him, a canvas tent and its limp door flapping against the cold wind, allowing him to see a snowy field outside. "Calm down, twig. Easy now." said the charr nurse tending to his wounds. "You have to be in top shape if you want to make the difference in this war."
(I was in the first wave of people who got inside Lion's Arch right after the patch. They said we were going to be reallocated into one of the adjacent maps, but that didn't happen to me. My best gaming experience so far. Thank you, ArenaNet.)