Yorgat's Pendant - Complete Fan Novelette

by MrFluffkins

Yorgat's Pendant follows Tanna, a Krytan girl who is caught in the centaurs advance during the Siege of Shaemoor, and a small guild on a mission to retrieve Yorgat's Pendant. A mission that turns out to be far more dangerous than they thought.

Chapter 1:

"Rouse the slaves!" a rough voice shouted, waking Tanna from a nightmare of stomping hooves to another nightmare of stomping hooves. She blinked frantically around at the other people huddled together in a corner of the makeshift pen.

The wooden gate was swung open and three Tamini lancers piled in unto the muddy ground.

"Up, two-legs!" shouted the one in the center. Old men and women moaned, and children cried. There were none in between; the able-bodied had been routed along with the militia by the overwhelming force of Centaurs.

Tanna scuttled to her feet, shrinking behind the elder villagers. The lancers corralled them out of the pen and led them away across the grasslands in a huddled mass of fear and confusion. They stumbled and tripped, bumping into each other. In front of Tanna, a little girl fell and quickly passed her by. She gaped and stared helplessly as the child's pigtailed head disappeared in the mass of bodies. She knew the girl; it was Jenner Rafford's daughter.

A shriek burst out from behind, and Tanna's heart jumped into her throat. She didn't dare look behind.

"Keep moving!" one of the lancers shouted, and everyone stumbled just a little faster.

They arrived at the foot of a hill, blasted by trebuchets, or by Centaur magic. Large rocks lay unearthed, scrambled about like potatoes spilling from a sack. There were troops of Centaurs hurrying about, and bonfires dotted the hillside. Only a fraction of their numbers remained, but there were still too many for Tanna to count.

"Halt!" they ordered. "Form a line, single file." The villagers complied as best as they could. The line they formed faced the hillside, and the leader of the lancers that had herded them from the pen.

While standing in the line there was no one to hide behind, and Tanna felt exposed. The Centaurs just stared at them menacingly, and whenever she saw one meet her glance, her eyes darted instinctively to the torn up ground. They stood there until they were all shaking from the chill of the morning air.

Her cheeks were stiff with salt from tears that she had stopped trying to wipe away. She hated crying but she could not stop. She had no idea where her mother and father were, or her brothers. She didn't even know if they were still alive, or if they had died in the attack. But worst of all was the fact that she wasn't even crying about them. What really made her cry was her dog. They had taken him from her and killed him without a second glance. She knew she shouldn't be crying over him, even if he was the best purebred Krytan drakehound she ever saw; even if he had used to cuddle with her when she couldn't sleep, and play with her when she was sad and feeling left out by her brothers. She didn't know if any of her family were alive and she was crying about a stupid dog. At least she wasn't the only one weeping.

Eventually another group of Centaur soldiers arrived, one of them whispering a message to the one in charge.

"What?!" it exclaimed. The female repeated the last whispered line. Strain as she might, Tanna could not hear what it said; and she was not sure she wanted to. "But the profits-"

"Take it up with the mogul if you wish," the messenger snarled.

The lancer scowled. "Fine," it said, then shouted in its bestial voice: "Orders! The despoilers are fast incoming from Shaemoor Garrison. Secure the slaves. Take the babes and throw them on the fires. Execute the rest in an orderly fashion. Use hooves, spare your weapons for the enemy. None must be left alive for the despoilers to save!"

A collective cry went up from the prisoners, some broke to run. Tanna saw a girl, just a little younger than herself run from the end of the line. She sprinted like a startled deer. Tanna saw the Centaur closing in behind her, saw the distance shrink, saw the lance find its way into her back; she saw the Centaur deliver the final blow and turn to leave the lifeless, bleeding body behind, and she wished she could scream. All around, people trying to escape were trampled into the rocks, bones breaking beneath steel shod hooves. Soon the line was restored to order.

Three by three the remaining people were shoved forward by the jagged lances of the Tamini. The three were forced unto their knees, heads laid against rocks. With staggering suddenness, Tanna saw them get stomped to death, their skulls cracked open between hoof and stone. Three more were forced forward, and Tanna could only stare. One of them to her right was Meena, a girl who was a few years older than Tanna. Meena had used to brag that she thought she had Mesmer talents, but the closest thing she ever came to casting a glamor was flapping her skirts at boys to make them fawn. Her dirty beautiful face was twisted in dazed horror as her head was shoved against the rock. Tanna watched it snap out of shape as the hoof came crashing down on her skull. Meena's body was unceremoniously flung to the side to make room for the next person on the bloodied rock.

Tanna felt the air become warm, and sounds grow distant. Her skin tingled and her lungs begged for her to breathe. Another person passed her stare, momentarily obscuring the gore-covered rock that was soon to be covered with her own blood.

I guess this is it, she thought, surprisingly calm. I wonder what it will feel like. I wonder if it will hurt.

She imagined her head laid on the rock, she imagined seeing the people still left staring at her, and she imagined smiling at them.

The dead were piling up, and there were only a few left alive.

Tanna wished they had taken her first. It was unfair that she had to be left for last; that she had to wait. She felt dizzy.

The air danced with faerie lights, and she felt she was starting to dream.

She fell to her knees, and a Centaur started shouting behind her. Soon she would be impaled by a lance, no doubt. That would probably hurt more than being crushed; ah well…

Her dream became wilder. She felt heat flare against her arm. She imagined the Centaur officer exploding into flame, for some reason.

Except she wasn't imagining it. There was fire everywhere, and where the officer had stood was now a red skinned man with strange hair like petals. A Centaur raised its musket to fire at him; he raised the stones around him to deflect it, then crushed the beast under an avalanche of rocks.

An elementalist, Tanna thought in wonder. With a snap of the mind, she realized he was fighting; whoever he was he must have come to save them. She shook her head, and looked around. The four-legs were piling in from every direction, scores of them. The other villagers stood dazed, but the Centaurs were focused on the new enemy.

Tanna decided to run for it. She scrambled to rise and ran like she had never run before. She flung herself headlong across the muddied ground, panicking with every slip of her feet.

Soon enough she heard hooves closing in behind her, steel clacking against rocks and thudding into the loose earth. Closer; closer. She craned her head around to see. In a dismayed flash she saw the approaching lancer, and she saw the red man still weaving fire at the foot of the hill. And then she fell face first into the dirt.

Hooves thundered ever closer, like boulders crashing down a mountainside. She scrambled away, turning so at least she could see. The Centaur was only steps away; there was no way for her to outrun it even if she got to her feet, but maybe she could dodge its lance.

Then out of nowhere, a mountain of fur smashed into the lancer's side. It flew in a tangle of limbs and crashed into a bush at least ten feet from the point of impact. The horned, armored beast who had sent it flying skidded to a halt, and tossed a wide eyed look at Tanna, then back towards the red man. No villagers remained to be seen. This was a Charr, Tanna realized. Perhaps they hadn't come to save the villagers after all.

The horned, catlike creature sheathed its sword and jogged towards Tanna. She scrambled to get to her feet, but only managed to muddy herself further.

"Hey, pup," the mountainous Charr purred softly as he reached her, "I'll get you out of here."

He grabbed her around the waist with one massive paw-like hand and hoisted her onto his shoulders.

"Hold on to my horns," he suggested. She complied, grabbing a hold of the smooth, bull-like horns jutting out of his skull. He turned quickly away from the skirmish at the foot of the hill and took off on all fours.

Tanna stared at the mayhem behind her. Fire and blood and torn earth littered the ground. Somewhere to her left she heard a loud whistle, and the red man turned towards it. Then with a massive stomp he levelled the earth around him, knocking Centaurs easily of their feet, and burst away with winds swirling and lightning crackling around him.

After good while of Tanna holding on for dear life while the Charr bounded along the war-torn land, they finally came to a halt behind a low hillock. Soon a massive shape materialized out of nowhere, and then a tiny one beside it; a Norn woman – a nine feet tall giant, lithe and muscled like a great big cat – and an Asura – grey skinned with long floppy ears and a flat, fishlike face crowned by a tuft of hair that stood up like a palm tree on top of her head. Then the red man came leaping down the hill, landing with all the grace of a gazelle in the grass. Then came another Asura – this one greenish, wearing some kind of golem-like harness armor and wielding a hammer that looked much too large for him – and last of all was a Seraph soldier, his finely adorned armor and white tabard smeared with mud and ash and blood.

The greenish Asura stomped to the center of the group and spoke in a strangely self-assured manner for someone so small.

"Everyone's here? Good. I trust we've earned our reward, Mackton?"

"Your reward?!" the seraph sputtered, glaring at the greenish Asura, "The prisoners are all dead! You failed, Yark!"

"I saved one," the Charr said from beneath Tanna, softly and almost timidly.

"One girl!?" Mackton raged, "There were scores of pe-"

"We are aware of that, Mackton," Yark said condescendingly, "If you Seraph had not bungled your timing we would have had a significantly higher chance at success. Halfway to noon, we said, so you primitives could tell the time. Instead you bookahs charge in two whole hours early. Two hours! Blame your commanders. We deserved our reward; if not for the life we saved, then for the massive distraction we caused."

The seraph's mouth worked but he failed to interrupt the battery fire of arguments from the tiny creature.

"Now, we had best escape before those hooved gentlemen catch up to us."

"Let's set some traps, Kytt," the Norn said to the palm tree Asura, at which the little creature lit up.

"Splendid!" she squeaked and started producing Asuran, magic looking gadgets from her back-pack.

Hours later the group made camp. Behind them countless pillars of smoke rose against the reddening sky like a massive temple of war to the god Balthazar. The seraph must have clashed with the Centaurs, and hopefully driven them away.

"Dwayna bless us," Mackton muttered, staring at the horizon while the others sought out places to sleep. "They must have gotten to the very gates of Divinity's reach."

"I must say your defenses are lacking," Bleddyn, the red-skinned Sylvari said. Not mocking, just stating a worrying fact. "Where were your scouts?"

"They must have been run down by the Tamini," the seraph said, resting his head in his palms, "The combination of speed and force in this attack is unprecedented."

Tanna was still perched on Throdd Blackfist's shoulders, but now the Charr gently grabbed her and lifted her off. He held her for a second in one massive hand, seemingly worrying over if and where to put her down. He noticed her looking up at him, and smiled a huge wide smile. She pointed to the ground.

"Oh," he said, and put her down. She managed a tired smile.

"Is she un-hurt?" the Norn woman asked. Tanna had learnt during their trek that she was called Felda Gellirsdottir.

"I don't know," Throdd said softly, ears drooping, "She's covered in so much mud I can't tell."

"You didn't ask her?" the Norn said, raising an eyebrow. Throdd shook his head, and Felda sighed. "Are you okay, little one?" she asked Tanna.

Tanna wasn't sure. She hurt all over, and she was pretty sure she'd been singed by Bleddyn. She gestured that she was hurting, but that she would be okay.

"Poor thing," said Throdd, "Looks like she's scared mute. I've seen that happen sometimes."

"You idiot," Kytt chimed in from behind Felda, "That girl is mute from birth. She's talking to you in sign language."

Tanna gaped. Most people didn't know she was actually talking with her hands; they just took her gestures as flailing attempts to communicate. Kytt signed: "pleased to meet you." Tanna signed: "thanks for saving me."

"Well that is fantabulous," said Yark, "But either way it looks like she'll be cold tonight; we have yet to meet the promised seraph contingency, and so we have no extra supplies. That means no bed-roll for the little human."

Tanna's spirits shrank. Last night had been freezing cold, and then she'd been huddled with the other villagers. It seemed like no one would be huddling together tonight.

Throdd's four ears wilted, "But Yark…" he protested, "She's been through a lot today."

"Give her your blanket, share it, leave her cold; I care not."

Throdd glanced at Tanna, then around at the others. Mackton was giving Throdd a particularly suspicious look. Unsurprising; the Charr were until recently humanity's most bitter enemies. Despite the fact that Tanna had seen many Charr living peacefully beside Humans on her trip to Lion's Arch, and despite the fact that he had saved her life and carried her all this way, she still felt a little frightened of Throdd.

"I could give you my blanket…" Throdd said, obviously a little reluctant to sleep in the cold. Tanna shook her head and signed to Kytt: "I don't mind sharing."

Kytt walked over to Tanna and looked her up and down. "How old are you anyway, kid?" Despite the fact that the Asura was shorter than Tanna by two full heads, Kytt still managed to seem like she was looking down at a little child.

"14," Tanna signed.

"Huh," Kytt said, squinting at her, "I thought Humans generally develop their mammary glands by your age. Either you're pulling my leg – figuratively of course – or you're just… twiggy."

Tanna pouted, but Bleddyn answered for her: "Watch your mouth, clot! There is nothing wrong with being twiggy." Kytt eyed him for a second as if she were worried he'd actually taken offense, but the tension was promptly broken by Felda's hearty laugh.

Tanna was nudged from the merriment by Throdd, offering her his thick fuzzy blanket. Tanna had forgotten that Kytt had neglected to translate for her. She waved at the little Asura, who was still bantering with Bleddyn and Felda.

"Right," the Asura said "The Human girl said she wouldn't mind sharing the blanket with you."

The Charr managed to look surprised and worried and delighted all at the same time.

"If that's all settled," Yark barked, "Can I please get some peace and quiet?"

Throdd cloaked himself in the blanket and hunched up with all four paws beneath him, broad chin rested on one of his hands. Tanna lay down next to him with her back to his side and was instantly glad for the heat radiating from his fur. He took a deep breath and exhaled what seemed like half purr, half hum.

Warm and covered with the blanket, Tanna soon found she was exhausted. Sleep eluded her though, because every time she closed her eyes she saw the rock, or Meena's distorted face, or Mr. Rafford's daughter, or her dog. There had been blood on the ground where they skewered him. There had been blood on the ground around the girl who ran. There had been blood on the rock and the hooves.

If she kept her eyes open, however, she saw the columns of smoke in the fast fading light, and remembered that her mother and father and brothers may be dead somewhere out there, or captured. It reminded her of how she had been crying: not for them, but for her dog, her stupid silly dog who hadn't realized what the Centaurs were going to do to him. Throdd's slow breathing felt very much like her dog's had, and once more the memories summoned tears to her eyes.

Ignoring for a second the danger of the creature beside her, she turned around and hugged his furry arm.

Throdd peeked for a second to see the girl crying into his fur, then continued pretending to sleep not to startle her.

Chapter 2:

"Get up already!" Kytt hissed, shaking Tanna roughly.

"It's not even dawn yet..." Tanna signed sloppily.

A gruff groan from behind her made both Asura and Human freeze in place. Throdd hated being woken up early, and he'd be grumpy with them all week if they didn't shut up and stop bothering him.

Ever since the day the guild rescued Tanna from the Centaurs she had slept close to the great big charr. A year ago when they had finally acquired their guild hall, Tanna had reached pet-status with the group, and they'd given her a room of her own. She'd tried to sleep there, but as ashamed as she was her nightmares always forced her back to Throdd's side. Eventually the two of them ended up sharing a room, and the others (especially Kytt) had heckled them for it until Throdd finally had enough and threw the little thief from the battlements. Kytt had landed some twenty strides away from the walls, quietly shadow-stepped back inside, and never spoken about it again. "I didn't know Asura could fly so well," Bleddyn had said to Kytt, earning him a swift punch in the fruit in return.

Throdd generally didn't seem to mind that Tanna slept next to him. Perhaps it even helped him sleep as well. But waking him up early in the morning was a complete no-go unless the room was on fire.

Kytt scowled at Tanna with her huge sparkling eyes, and Tanna conceded. She dislodged herself from Throdd's fur and blankets, and immediately the chill of the morning made her want nothing more than to crawl back into bed. But Kytt had been adamant that it was early mornings, or no training at all. Without Kytt's training, Tanna would never have a place with the guild as anything other than a curiosity.

She got up, put her pants and jacket on, grabbed her bow, and off they went.

Every morning Tanna and Kytt went for a run. "If you can't win, then you'd best know how to run away," Kytt had said, and both Felda and Yark had agreed with her. To be honest with herself, Tanna thought they were right too, but why it had to be so early was beyond her.

Their route would take them south from the guild hall, past Hazran's Rock, towards Nebo Terrace, east to Ascalon Settlement, then it looped back around over the Lionbridge and finally went back north again. The run usually took them less than two hours. Back when they'd started, Tanna had needed to rest three or four times along the way. These days she could almost always run the whole route in one go. How Kytt managed the run with her tiny little legs, Tanna would never understand.

They jogged out of the guild hall gate, and as always Tanna stared down at the remains of the Blood Hill Camps – one of the main staging grounds for the Centaur assault two years ago. The area was still contested from time to time, but the camps themselves had been burned down, and grass was starting to grow back on the blasted slopes.

The guild hall itself was nestled against a cliff a couple of miles east of Stoneguard Gate. The guild had re-built an old Human tower that they had received the deed to because of their significant involvement in the war against the Centaurs – a war which had lasted much longer than it should have because the fool queen of Kryta had decided to support the Pact rather than decisively put an end to the Centaur threat. The Elder Dragons were a massive threat, but they'd waited hundreds of years already, and could in Tanna's opinion stand to wait a little longer.

The run was easy this morning. The sky was clear, the ground was dry, and there was no significant headwind. By the time they reached Ascalon Settlement the sun was peeking over the Shiverpeaks, and people were starting their daily routines.

At one point, a group of boys started sprinting along with them, laughing as they went. They soon tired, however, and one of them shouted after Tanna:

"Whew! You could outrun a Centaur!" the others whooped and cheered.

Despite their encouragement, Tanna's heart sank at the old jest. The line was the cruellest joke she knew, and only people who'd fought the Centaurs knew what it meant. It wasn't simple hyperbole, it was originally a sarcastic taunt; you simply can't outrun a Centaur and if you try, you die. At least without magic it is almost impossible.

The clacking of hooves on the cobbles jerked Tanna from her brooding. Every muscle in her body tensed up, ready for fight or flight. Then she saw it was only a Dolyak, and smiled nervously. Only after they had passed it did she realize she'd drawn her bow. Looking over to Kytt to see if she had noticed, Tanna caught the little Asura making horns with her fingers and snickering at her. Despite the Asura's levity it took Tanna until Nebo Terrace to level out her breathing and heart-rate.

Even when they reached the rich rolling hills north of Nebo Terrace Tanna felt a bit shaken and exhausted by the harmless encounter. The final stretch of their run would begin at the foot of Hazran's rock. From there, they could see the small guild hall, but it was still far enough to look like a toy castle. This part was the toughest, and not only because it was up-hill or because they were worn out.

"Shadow-step sprint!" Kytt squeaked with genuine excitement, stopping to weave a shadow refuge for them. "If you can't reach the gates before you turn visible, you'll clean my room for a month!" Tanna groaned at that; Kytt was exceedingly messy.

The cloak of shadowy magic enveloped them, made them fade into invisibility, and invigorated them. Despite the coming exertion, Tanna grinned. Shadow-stepping was the only high-level skill she had, and the one form of magic in which she had any talent.

"Go!" Kytt shouted, and the shadow refuge fell apart. Tanna focused, and took a step that carried her fifty steps ahead.

The trick was to take a step through the mists, where time and space flow differently than in the physical world. It was always strange, always exhilarating. Once in the flash of her one step, Tanna had seen a creature in strange clothes, leading what she could only describe as a spirit of the dead.

After the first step she brought out her bow; it was hard to do many shadow steps in a row without something to focus them, and arrows could be a perfect catalyst for where to reappear.

She shot and just before the arrow landed some twenty yards up the hill, she 'stepped again. For a mad split second she saw the disorienting fog of the mists again before reappearing and catching the arrow in flight. It was a trick of the mind. The mind gets messed up when it has nothing to focus on; especially when you're messing with time and space. The arrow gave her the focus she needed.

There was still some fifty yards to the gate, and Tanna felt the enchantment slipping. She loosed another arrow, then phased, drew another arrow in transit, shot, caught the previous arrow, phased, and caught the final arrow just inside the gates. A fraction of a second later her invisibility slipped off, and she collapsed to her knees, panting.

"Hah!" Kytt squeaked with a jubilant little hop, "Best time so far! Good job Annie!"

Felda was smiling from the golem ring on the other side of the little courtyard.

"Nice combo for that last stretch, girl," the blonde tiger-like woman allowed, and went back to dodging rapid-fire punches from the golem.

"Hmpf!" a tiny rasping voice huffed from the battlements, "maybe you'll eventually be worth the investment."

Yark had always been in favour of sending Tanna to one of the orphanages in Divinity's Reach or Beetletun. Even if Tanna didn't like him much, she couldn't really blame him. He had built this guild from scratch, and was determined to see it grow to rival the greatest factions out there. For now they were still only a small specialized force, but they had acquired a stronghold thanks to the little genius.

"Oh come on, Yark," Kytt said, voice dripping with scorn, "'the investment' you've made for Annie is barely even seventy silver. I can make way more than that in a day. She could make more than that in a day, if we let her."

Yark just scoffed, and went back to tinkering with his P.E.G.S - a physical enhancement golem suit.

Later in the day, the group gathered in the courtyard as they often did, to spar. It was half entertainment, half practice. The only one who didn't participate or watch was, of course, Yark. He was too busy setting up deals and missions with clients to have time for such 'barbaric tomfoolery'.

While two or more people sparred in the courtyard, the rest were on the battlements, watching. Right now Felda was dueling with Throdd.

From the looks of things, one might think that Throdd would be easily bested. Felda was taller, more agile, but still almost as powerfully muscled as the bear-like charr. On top of that, Felda seemed as sly as a Snow Leopard herself, whereas Throdd seemed simple and dumb. Well, Throdd was far from dumb and just as far quicker than he seemed.

The two rarely clashed; Felda would only strike when she saw an opening, and Throdd had few openings that weren't bait.

Tanna, Kytt and Bleddyn were watching intently. Kytt and Tanna sat with their feet hanging from the wall, while Bleddyn was standing, gazing at the two fighters with the intensity of a wolf staring at cornered prey. On the opposite side of the courtyard, the three hall guards watched to stave off boredom. Calon, Genna and Maek had little to spare for the core members of the guild; they had been hired to guard and nothing else.

With a flash Felda darted forward, weaving towards the charr, her sword glinting in the midday sun. Throdd stood his ground, rotating his body only slightly to catch Felda's sword on his shield, and parry her obscured dagger with his own sword. But Felda didn't go for the direct attack; she shadow-stepped just behind him. Tanna was still taken aback by the precision, despite having seen it a hundred times, but Throdd was not. He pivoted faster than Felda, ready to slam her exposed side with his shield as she turned, but Felda had already switched to double daggers. She snapped back to her original position, and whirled over Throdd's head, raking his arms and shoulders with blunt blades. Apparently overwhelmed by the assault, Throdd hunkered down, and Felda darted around him again, slashing at his right flank. What she wasn't prepared for was Throdd's sudden backhand. The sword took her square across the fore-arms as she stepped back to escape.

The Norn yelped. Even with blunted blades, the force of that swing would have broken her arms if Throdd hadn't held back. The Charr was not about to leave her with a rap on the wrist, however. He sprang after her with all the force of a charging dolyak, slamming his shield into her warding arms. Felda was launched from her feet, dropping both daggers, and crashed into the deactivated golem in the corner of the courtyard. Before she could regain herself and switch back to sword, Throdd was on her with shield stowed, and both blades drawn.

"Yield!" Felda said, "By Bear, you're quick."

"Apparently even Norn can fly, if assisted by Throdd," Bleddyn said. Kytt giggled, sadistically satisfied that it wasn't her being tossed around for once.

"Do you see what she did wrong?" Kytt asked Tanna.

Tanna nodded, then mimicked how Felda had attacked Throdd; scratches to shoulders and arms.

Kytt lit up with pride. "Yup! You can't afford to open yourself up to an attack simply for chipping away at an enemy like Throdd. Against someone like him, you won't get a second chance: you have to go for the heart straight away."

Tanna pondered this for a second, watching Throdd help dust off Felda, then signed:

"Where is a Centaur's heart? Is it in the upper body like a Human or the lower body like with deer?"

Kytt tilted her head and gave Tanna a scolding frown, looking intensely bored.

Bleddyn however, laughed. Unlike Felda, Throdd and Yark, he'd learned to understand sign language quickly.

"Do you want to dissect one, to find out?" he offered with a menacing grin.

"Oh keep your Nightmare Court fetishes to yourself Bleddyn," Kytt said, disgusted.

"You can't tell a student to go for a certain target, and then refuse to let them find where the target is," Bleddyn said, almost melodically. "It makes sense that she'd want to know the anatomy of her enemy."

"She has no enemies," Throdd said in his soft rumbling voice, ascending the stairs to the ramparts. "The Krytans do."

Kytt nodded, "Throdd's right. Don't confuse blind hatred with war."

Tanna frowned. Although the guild had spent significant time fighting against the Centaurs as contractors for the Seraph, only Bleddyn shared her hatred for the beasts. His reasons were fundamentally different than hers though; he used to belong to the Nightmare Court. As such he had a deep seated hatred for the Centaur Ventari, who'd shaped Sylvari culture to a disproportionate amount. Tanna could understand him, but to her it seemed like a feeble hatred.

Bleddyn scoffed. "Want another round, charr?"

Throdd shrugged. "Why not? Just please don't burn my fur off. I hate fire."

"I'm afraid you gentlefolk don't have time for that," Yark said, strolling along the battlements from the keep. "We have an urgent mission, and we might just lose our prey if we don't leave now."

"Our target is Mellark Grundirsson and his crew of pirates. They are operational mostly around Lake Gendarr and have little political importance."

"How can they be pirates in a lake? I've always found that laughable," whispered Kytt to Felda. Felda simply shrugged. Yark had overheard though, and interrupted his briefing to lecture Kytt.

"That would be an interesting point, if they only operated around a lake, idiot. Did I say only? No. These 'lake pirates' are river pirates more than anything, and they can bring their thieving business as far as Divinity's Reach. As a matter of fact, this Grundirsson is infamous for doing exactly that."

Yark cleared his throat and went back to reading from his briefing sheet, "Mellark Grundirsson is wanted for kidnapping a nephew of Minister Arton of Kryta, among many other things. The concerning part of this is that when the Ministry Guard collaborated with the Seraph to ambush the pirates at the mouth of Arca Lake, the brute snapped the hostage's neck, and went on to kill a majority of the ambushing force on his own. He is a dangerous opponent, even for us.

"Recently, Grundirsson took advantage of the indiscriminate hospitality of the Norn capitol at Hoelbrak. There, he stole an item called Yorgat's Pendant and killed its owner." Yark, scratched his ear and squinted at the page. "Hamma Freylindsdottir seems to be the name of the now deceased Norn. The pendant is an ancient artifact of a magical nature, and can be traced back to the Jotun Giant King Yorgat of old; hence the name. The pendant goes for a ridiculously high price, and Grundirsson has secured a deal with a Centaur Mogul named Ytarr Windmane.

"Aside from the Centaurs, the Durmand Priory had previously expressed interest in acquiring the pendant, although Hamma repeatedly refused them. I also imagine we could find a buyer either in Lion's Arch, Divinity's Reach or, perhaps most promisingly, in Rata Sum.

"According to my source, the pirates will be meeting with the Centaurs at Shieldbluff Point tomorrow at dawn, which gives us less than 14 hours to clear Provern Pass and set up an ambush. It is of utmost importance that we intercept the pirates before they meet with the Centaurs, or retrieving the pendant will be nigh impossible. Get ready to leave in 20 minutes time. Tanna, you'll stay with the guards as usual and keep an eye on things here."

Tanna sighed and allowed herself a little bit of a pout, disappointed to be left behind once again.

Chapter 3:

Like so many times before, Tanna stayed with Throdd as he geared up for the mission. He wore mostly the same armor he had when she first saw him, except for the odd repair or upgrade. One of those upgrades glowed eerily on each piece of his gear; arcane symbols representing the Dolyak.

Throdd noticed her staring and smiled a sharp toothed but gentle smile.

"Don't worry Annie," he said in his soft low tones, "We'll be back in a flash. You'll see."

Tanna frowned: she wasn't worried, she was upset to be left behind again, even though she was sure she could be useful somehow. She would make a great scout, if nothing else. Throdd sighed: he probably already knew that was how she felt, but he had hoped to comfort her while also avoiding the subject.

Of everyone in the guild, he was the one most strongly opposed to bringing her on missions. Ever since the talks of leaving her at an orphanage he had been a bit over-protective, and any scenario that would put Tanna in harm's way would make him tense up like a massive guard dog. The only one who still had the nerve to argue the point was Yark, who was of the opinion that they should use every asset available to them. If she remembered correctly, the phrase he continually brandished was: "not using her is negatively impacting our political-economic result budget".

Throdd didn't take long to get ready, and before he left he ruffled her dark shoulder-length hair with his massive black paw. Despite the fact that Tanna had grown a little in the past two years, his hand was still large enough to completely engulf her head.

"See you soon, cub," he said and walked out.

Tanna puffed a strand of hair out of her face, and got a little bit worried as she felt Throdd's familiar scent recede. What if something actually did happen? She sat down on the wide bed and wrapped her arms around herself. Maybe she should be worried, rather than sulking over childish things.

She wasn't a child anymore, but being treated like one made it hard for her not to be childish. Despite her appearance, she was 16 years old; a woman, not a girl. Maybe if she took more responsibility around the guild hall they would start treating her like an equal.

"Why so solemn, Twig?" said Bleddyn's familiar voice from the doorway.

"You know why," she signed back, then added: "Petal." She had a score different plant-themed nick-names for him that he could understand.

"I do," he signed back clumsily; he was far better at understanding than speaking sign language. "And I do wish you would refrain from using that particular moniker; unless you mean to address me as your lover, that is."

Tanna stuck her tongue out at him, and immediately regretted it; it was exactly the kind of childish thing they expected of her. Bleddyn smiled a bit at her obvious embarrassment.

"Quite the caged bird," he mused, eyes fixed on hers in an almost menacing way.

Tanna averted her eyes and stared angrily at the wall. "I don't choose to be," she signed.

"No bird ever thinks he does, Twig," Bleddyn said, losing his almost Human mannerisms for just a second in favor of something more alien. It made Tanna shiver. "But he always chooses it."

He smiled a softer smile, "You could fly away, little bird," he said, "Nothing is stopping you. However, if then you follow us, follow at a distance greater than fifty steps. Yark has a device that detects life-forms."

Tanna stared at him and he stared back, daring her to look away.

Tanna signed: "You should go, or they'll come looking for you."

"So I should," he said, turning to leave, "See you soon, Twig."

Felda appeared out of nowhere in the murk of pre-dawn. As usual Throdd was entirely incapable of detecting her despite her gigantic stature. How someone so big could be so silent was beyond him, and he held a deep respect for the Norn. She was highly unusual, even among her own kind. Like a lioness, proud and rare, and exceptionally stealthy for her size.

"The pirates are already there, waiting on the shore on the other side of the pass. We have to hurry."

Yark huffed, "This is what we get when some people simply refuse to adhere to a time-frame!"

Bleddyn shrugged, "Again, I apologize. Charging my trinket took longer than usual. I do not command the ebb and flow of magic."

"We don't blame you, Bleddyn," Throdd said, "But let's hurry."

"I'm with the fur ball," squeaked Kytt, "And we might want to consider being silent."

"Agreed," murmured Felda.

The group made it through the pass in their regular formation; Felda scouting ahead, Yark and Bleddyn acting as vanguard, while Kytt and Throdd covered the rear. There was little activity on these roads since the Centaur wars had started; few merchants dared to brave the danger and even the seraph were careful with their patrols in this region. Neither group would travel here by night. There was a slight chance they'd run into adventurers looking to cash in on the instability of the region, but fortunately they did not.

At the mouth of the pass they made halt; Felda had spotted something new.

"We're too late," she said, "The Centaurs are already here, and their force is significant."

Yark hissed out a long line of curses.

Felda pressed him, seemingly untouched by the outburst: "What do we do?"

Yark stood silent for a good few seconds, frowning at the dirt. Then he rounded on Bleddyn: "This is your-!" he started, fuming, then just as quickly he changed his mind: "No, never mind; the information came in too late. Let us observe the exchange and act depending on the outcome. That pendant is worth a fortune, but I do not want any of you risking your lives. Such a loss would amount to years of work by a skilled operative. I simply cannot allow it."

Throdd smiled. The gruff Asura did care about the team more than anything, despite his bluster about economic efficiency.

"Felda," Yark said, "If you would please, scout out an appropriate spying location for us. Kytt, you support her if need be. The rest of us will wait."

Mellark Grundirsson was a prime specimen of Norn. He was a head again taller than Felda, and must have been at least three times heavier. He wielded a massive mace and shield, and wore a set of armor that covered intimidatingly little skin. Standing at the head of his mostly Human pirate crew, he towered over everyone present.

Mogul Ytarr Windmane was not quite as intimidating, at least not from a distance. The Centaur was large to be sure, but even with his stature he would be dwarfed by his Norn counterpart.

Throdd watched the exchange from behind the little hill just west of the beach. It was not the only reasonable spot they could have chosen, but it offered a good view of both groups. The pirates were much fewer in number than the Centaurs, but they had the river and their boats behind them, securing an easy escape should the deal go south. The Centaurs numbered close to seventy; far more than the guild could comfortably fight on their own. Spread out the Centaurs easily denied any land-based escape, as if that mattered.

The two leaders spoke, but Throdd could not make out what they said from where he crouched behind the hillock. Soon enough, each side sent out an envoy to ensure the other part kept to the bargain. Centaur and man met right in the middle between the two factions, and presented the goods; the pirate brought out a pendant, the Centaur opened two saddle-bags full of gold. The Centaur nodded towards Ytarr, and the pirate shouted to Grundirsson. The deal seemed to be going according to plan.

But only until the Centaur envoy drove his spear through the pirate's chest, snagged the amulet, and threw it to Ytarr. In midair, the thing started glowing like a faint red falling star.

The pirates howled at the Centaurs, and Grundirsson started charging wildly ahead. The Centaur envoy recovered the sacks of gold and started back to his fellows.

"By the Alchemy," Yark gasped as Ytarr caught the pendant, "That thing must be powered by some sort of soul trap! We need to move."

Grundirsson was fast gaining on the now fearful Centaur envoy, his footsteps pounding the ground hard enough to be heard even by Throdd.

Then with a crack like a cannon, the whole scene exploded into a cloud dust.

Chapter 4:

The cloud of dust reached Tanna even at her perch on the cliff-side, south of the beach. She could not be sure what had happened, but it had looked to her like the Mogul had called down winds like a massive hammer of the gods, to smite Mellark Grundirsson.

She could no longer see what was going on, but she could hear, and it sounded like a massacre. The Centaurs were cheering, chanting the mogul's name as they charged. The pirates were screaming, firing their guns, crying in pain.

Suddenly another blast crashed into the river, casting up just as much water as it had dust. The spray of water cleared some of the dust-cloud away, and Tanna saw that the pirates' boats were utterly annihilated. A crater remained in their place.

It only took seconds for the fighting to die down. By the time it had, the rain from the river blast had soaked up most of the dust, and Tanna could see the remains of the massive Norn pirate on the edge of a large crater. He was torn apart, legs broken, skull smashed, arms dislodged into unnatural angles, and he was covered in a thick layer of dust and mud. His blood was leaking from a thousand wounds, trickling down to create a little pool in the middle of the crater.

Not a single Centaur seemed to have been harmed in the encounter, and every last one of the pirates lay dead or dying in the sand and dirt.

Ytarr Windmane barked a command, and the Centaurs stormed off, right towards the hillock from where Throdd and the others had been watching. Tanna saw the Centaurs flow around the hillock like a stream around a stone. No alarm was sounded, and no sounds of battle followed.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The others must have seen the coming danger and decided to withdraw. Unfortunately that also meant that Tanna would have to find them again, to find out what they meant to do about this new Centaur threat and the failure to retrieve the pendant.

It would be a challenge to find them without accidentally getting within range of Yark's life-detector, especially since the group may be moving in stealth from this point on.

"Yark, please think this through," said Bleddyn, almost pleading, but with the self-assurance of a king asking for a service from his knight. They were arguing the merits of keeping versus selling the pendant.

"Do I really have to explain further?" Yark hissed. The two of them had been at it since they'd left the beach. Currently they were stood in a small glen they'd retreated to, located just a bit west of the pass. The sun was rising while the Sylvari and the Asura argued. The rest of them stayed out of it; Throdd had very little of an opinion on the matter.

"An artefact of this caliber will attract attention of the worst kind. I'm not sure you've noticed, Bleddyn, but our guild is not the Order of Whispers. We cannot afford the kind of heat that keeping the amulet would generate. It could get us all killed, and I'd lose everything I've worked for. It is not an option."

"So we've settled on actually retrieving the cursed thing?" Felda asked.

Yark kicked the dirt, scowling, "After what we just saw, the price for the thing could be raised perhaps as far as 3.7 times the expected value. That is roughly 1.8 times our current investment in the guild hall. It is a ridiculous sum of money; but as you saw, the price is above and beyond worth it. Such an item is – without hyperbole – priceless until someone names a price."

"And still you wish to sell it," Bleddyn said, "With the power of that amulet we could grow ten times as quickly as we could with money for 'almost two' tiny guild halls. No matter the price it is not worth losing such an artefact. You have to be insane to even consider it, with your goals in mind."

"He is right about the danger of it, Bleddyn," said Kytt, "This is the kind of bauble that gets people killed. By all three colleges, the Elder Dragons might even be after it. Jormag would be the likeliest in that case."

Bleddyn's eyes turned on the small Asura, her fountain-like hair waving in the morning wind. His gaze seemed to burn with the same fire the Sylvari was so fond of weaving at his enemies.

"The dragons will come either way, it is only a matter of time," he said. "Keeping the amulet would give us a fighting chance, even against a dragon champion."

"Bleddyn, I wish I could keep it," Yark said, "But we cannot afford it. The sheer number of bandits and Centaurs that would be out to get us would be large enough to keep us besieged for years."

"Lend me the amulet for but a minute, and I could burn them all," Bleddyn said, smiting an imagined foe with a clenched fist. Throdd believed him, but talk of burning people always made him feel sick.

"Bleddyn," Throdd said, "Please leave this decision to Yark; he knows what he's doing."

"And Yark, please consider Bleddyn's position while we recover the artefact," Felda said.

Yark nodded reluctantly, "Agreed."

Kytt glanced at Bleddyn, "Do you agree to those terms?" she asked him.

"Fine," he said, "But I will curse you all for fools if we end up relinquishing the pendant."

"Shall we wait until dusk before venturing further?" asked Throdd.

"No need," said Yark, "It will take us half the day to reach Modniir territory. We should rest at the edge of their dominion, then we move in at midnight; perfect for avoiding attention. Any Centaurs we encounter on our way north, we avoid if at all possible. If they spot us, however… well, we don't want them to alert their brethren to our presence."

"Wonderful," said Bleddyn, "Let us be on our way, then."

The group managed to stay undetected all the way up to the Modniir Gorge, where many battles had taken place between the Seraph and the Centaurs. The ground was dotted with mounds; mounds that had once been piles of corpses that had needed to be burned. Throdd wondered which faction had the higher mounds, the Humans or the Centaurs, and the thought made his ears droop. It was a shame that the two races were still battling despite the obvious stalemate.

"Outrunner!" hissed Kytt, pointing to up the hill to the east; too late, the Centaur spotted them.

"Felda," Yark said, sounding more than a little anxious. Before he could finish giving her instructions, the Norn was gone.

It didn't take more than two seconds for the Centaur to die, and that turned out to be soon enough. While the Centaur raised a horn to her lips to call out to her allies, Fleda appeared out of stealth and cleanly chopped her goat-like head from her shoulders.

The Norn took her time returning after having made sure the Centaur was alone. She sauntered down the hill, wiping her blade off with a piece of cloth. She hadn't even broken a sweat. If she had been charr, Throdd thought that he might have been in love. There was something about her movements, her muscle; her feline grace, that resembled a ferocious Ash Legion minx. He shook the thought from his mind as she approached.

"Done," Felda softly said as she came within speaking distance. "There were no others that I could see."

Yark looked to the sky; the sun was still some time away from setting.

"Well, let's find a not-too-damaged hut to sleep in. Throdd, would you mind taking the first watch?"

"Not at all, Yark," Trodd confirmed.

They quickly found a hut that seemed on the verge of collapsing, but a few solid tests by Felda and Bleddyn made sure that it would hold up. Having travelled through the day, and the night before, they were all exhausted and quickly went to sleep in their equally odd fashions. Kytt sat in a corner with only her head peeking out of a dark blanket. Yark lay curled up, wheezing softly, sound asleep. Bleddyn slept with his back to the wall and his eyes open, making Throdd wonder once again what horrors the poor Sylvari had endured to make him so hard. Felda had a tendency to start out sleeping in a highly precise position, but always ended up sprawled all over the ground, bed or floor; depending on where they were.

Alone, Throdd sat brooding at the entrance, eyes vacantly scanning for threats. He had done this many times in Fireheart Rise; except he hadn't been guarding anyone but himself. He could probably still do it in his sleep, but others tended to not trust sleeping sentries, so he stayed awake.

The hiatus of battles between the Centaurs and Humans showed Throdd exactly what a waste all of it was. The landscape up here was growing beautiful again, despite only barely having recovered from the massive destruction that had taken place. Flowers were starting to bloom in the remains of torn down buildings; saplings were sprouting in catapult craters. As the sun crawled towards the horizon, Throdd fantasized about bringing peace between the two factions.

He missed Tanna. During their times in the guild hall, he always got used to her tiny presence by his side, and always when they went on missions he ended up feeling her absence like a phantom limb; like a scar of warmth in his side. It felt good to be needed by her. Everyone else could move on perfectly without him, but not her. Maybe he was to her what she was to him: someone to ground his mind in the present, to keep him from lingering on the past.

He drifted a little, but still kept scanning. It would be fine: even the smallest movement from Kytt forced his attention to it. He was sure to spot any danger approaching. When dusk came, he would be at least a little rested, and the others could get their sleep.

Tanna darted between huts, zigzagging her way towards the great big wooden complex clinging to the mountain side in the north east.

The structure was unlike anything Tanna had ever laid eyes on; a piece of actual Centaur architecture that lacked the typical rough jagged and intimidating outlines of the war-camps. This structure was probably older, and made for peace more than war. Where the war-camps were like splinters in the landscape, this was like a natural growth of carved wood and leather sheets. It snaked its way up the mountain side with platforms and gardens. Grottos either carved or natural made room for great lodges.

She had spent the first few hours in Modniir territory completely panicked. The first sound of hooves milling about made every hair on her body stand on end, and memories that she didn't even know she had started flooding back. Blood and fire seemed to occupy her mind, and every overheard conversation seemed like the barked orders of the Centaur soldiers that had almost killed her. Even now her heart was racing, and every sauntering hoof snared her breath. She wanted to believe it was getting better, but every sound seemed to prove that false.

She had lost track of the others, but she had some notion of where to go. Ytarr Windmane would be somewhere in the massive mountain side complex. She had overheard conversations about the mogul's victory and his prize, and by the end of each such conversation, the beasts speaking would be looking towards the mountain. Getting there was proving laborious though, and darkness was slowly fading. It may be that Tanna would need to spend the day hiding within the Centaurs' greatest stronghold, and the thought terrified her. One misstep would be enough to make her a slave, or get her killed.

Every piece of land this far in was inhabited, so Tanna had no choice but to sneak among the huts. She had to listen for any activity before every sprint because she lacked the ability to make herself completely invisible like Kytt or Felda. She badly wished she had managed to learn the trick behind the shadow refuge before deciding to follow them on their adventure; and this particular adventure was fast becoming more dangerous than anything she'd heard of them partaking in.

Sprinting down a dirt road leading towards the mountain, she suddenly heard voices approaching from around a bend. Like a startled rabbit, she decided she had to go into the nearest hut, rather than make the detour to hide behind it. As soon as she was safe inside, she realized her decision had been sound: the Centaurs were only seconds away. She hugged the leather canvas of the hut, peering out to see a group of three Centaur guards strolling down the muddy road bearing lanterns.

Only when the voices had long since subsided, she dared let out a shaky breath, and take a look at the inside of the hut. What she saw in the gloom hit her with such fear and disgust that she had to steel herself from running out in blind panic.

Along the edges of the hut were sleeping Centaur children. They slept standing, like little gargoyles looming in the darkness. Even this young, Tanna was only as tall as their chests. Her skin crawled at the sight.

She had only felt such revulsion once before, when she had been rooting out cave spiders from beneath the guild hall, and popped a large egg-sack. The spiders had flowed out of the sack like a torrent of many-legged rats, scuttling along the walls and floor, even weaving their way towards her legs. Back then she had run out of the basement in a panic, and hadn't dared go back down until Bleddyn had gone down there and scorched the place clean.

One of the shadowed Centaur children mumbled something in his sleep, and Tanna imagined the horror he would grow to be. Likely this miniature menace would grow to be a lancer or trampler, trained to kill, burn and enslave, taught to hate Humans above all else. She imagined the thousand other Centaur children sleeping in this stronghold and a rage started boiling inside her. The rage was not mostly towards the Centaurs themselves, but towards Queen Jenna. How could the queen allow this cesspit to prosper, while stripping the defenses of the seraph garrisons to deal with separatists, flame legion, and dragon minions? What threat could possibly be greater than this, and how long would it be until the next wave of destruction came crashing down on towns and villages just like Tanna's?

Not thinking, barely even listening to the outside anymore, she drew the knife she had taken from Kytt's room. She walked up to the closest creature. She hesitated for a second: is the heart in the chest, or in the lower body? Then she decided it did not matter, and reaching up, she drove the point of her blade into the creature's skull. It died silently, and she caught it as it toppled, careful to not let it make a sound. She felt ill at the touch of its tough, hairy, dirty skin.

She made a circle around the hut, repeating the process as if she were rooting out weeds. And she was. She was making sure that none of these beasts lived to grow into murdering raiders.

Halfway around, she stabbed another one in the skull, but the Centaur toppled away from her, and she failed to catch it. The other beasts startled awake. For a frozen second they stared at her, and she stared at them. Then one of them found their courage.

"Murder!" it shouted, shrill and piercing, "Intruder! Despoiler!" The little Centaurs stampeded out of the hut. Horns blared all around, gongs sounded.

Tanna knew she had to get out, to hide someplace. She moved to the back of the hut and made a slit in the canvas. Peeking out to make sure no one was out there, she saw that the sun was rising. This is bad, she thought.

She ran out and across a small path between huts, staying low and behind cover. All around her were Centaur voices and the sound of galloping hooves. All were converging on her location. She had to take a chance, and get as far as possible away from the hut.

She shadow-stepped to the next cluster of huts, and crouched down behind a couple of barrels filled with potatoes. Behind her was chaos of shouting voices and thundering hooves.

She peeked out from behind the barrel and saw a group of Centaurs running straight towards her.

"There!" shouted one of them, pointing its brutal weapon at the barrels. She ran, rounding corners, desperately wanting to shadow-step, but too afraid of what she might run into if she did, or of miss-stepping and getting stuck.

She dived around a corner, hoping to lose her pursuers, and slammed straight into the side of another Centaur trampler. The Centaur staggered; she bounced off like a dog running straight into a brick wall, falling flat on her back. Sounds of her pursuers were everywhere.

She scrambled backwards and vaulted to her feet before the Centaur could turn to attack her, and drew her knife again. Before she had a chance to use it, she felt a grip close around her neck and lift her off the ground.

"We caught it!" shouted the female Centaur who held her in a death-grip. Tanna slashed at her, but there was no way to reach behind her. A sharp crack came down on her arm and she dropped the dagger. Pain flooded her senses, and small dots beat like hearts in her front of eyes. She lifted her hurt hand to her blurring vision, and saw that it was already swelling, but fortunately whole.

Hundreds of Centaur soldiers converged on their location, and through the throng, Tanna could see Ytarr Windmane approach. He strode through the crowd like a boat through water, gaze locked on Tanna.

"Hand her to me," the Ytarr barked, and the female threw Tanna to the ground in front of him. He grabbed her by her swelling arm and hoisted her up to his face, inspecting her like an alien species never seen before.

"This tiny thing did it?" the mogul said, disbelief thick in his voice. At his neck, the pendant glowed its starlight pink.

"She fits the description, mogul," an anonymous enemy said from behind Tanna.

"I don't believe it…" Ytarr whispered, his face sinking into an expression resembling sorrow and disgust. Then his expression hardened, and his eyes darkened with rage.

"Do you see this?!" he cried, trotting around, presenting Tanna like a stained rag to the crowd. "This is what they do! Even their children have hate enough in their hearts to infiltrate our homes, to murder our young!"

He grabbed Tanna by the throat and stared her right in the eye. "Why?!" he demanded. Tanna could answer only in one way.

She brought her left hand to the back of her head, loosened the hairband, and whipped it out into the shape of another knife. With all the feeble force she could muster she stabbed at Ytarr's eye. The mogul jerked his head backwards, but the knife buried itself in his cheek-bone.

The mogul roared in pain, slapping the weapon from her hand, and Tanna silently thanked Kytt for the hair-band. At least like this she was allowed to speak her defiance, and her hatred for the creature holding her.

"Filth! Assassin!" the mogul cursed. "I will strip the cloth from your skin! I will nail you to my battle-standard! And when I march on your lands I will flay an inch of your flesh for every one of my brothers that die!" He threw her like a rag-doll and she hit the ground hard. "Take her to my personal slave-pen!"

Chapter 5:

Kytt appeared out of nowhere, panting and panicked. Now only Felda was missing.

"It's Tanna!" she hissed silently not to reveal their location. Throdd's heart stopped for a second. The Centaurs had sprung into action seemingly out of the blue, and now they knew why.

"What?!" said Yark. "What is she doing here? She literally prevented the success of the entire operation!"

"Where is she now?" Throdd growled. He was not entirely surprised she'd followed them. It was his fault that she had decided to go on her own.

"She was captured by Windmane…" she looked at Yark and Bleddyn, then with a hurt expression back to Throdd, "Throdd… she killed some Centaur children. Then she stabbed the mogul in the face. They're not happy. I don't think we'll be able to get her."

Throdd rose, and prepared to move out.

"That's not an option, Kytt," he said.

"One second, please, Throdd," Yark said.

"I don't have a second," Throdd replied, fists squeezing the hilts of his swords until they groaned beneath his gauntlets, "Either you come with me, or I go alone."

"Throdd," Kytt pleaded, "It's not possible. Everyone is on high alert now. We wouldn't make it a hundred strides before getting spotted."

"Then I get spotted," Throdd said, and stalked off, "Best of luck to you all."

It was his fault that Tanna was here alone. He had to find her.

"Throdd, please!" Kytt said from behind him, "You'll die!"

Tanna was chained up, and bleeding. She'd been kicked and prodded, and her face felt as if it were a beating heart of fire. She could barely open her left eye, and her mouth still tasted of blood. Worst was her arm; now swollen to the point that she didn't dare to move it even the slightest bit.

She was shackled to a pole, her wrists pressed together between her ankles. There was nothing she could do, except shift her weight back and forth between her knees, and mourn the way her first adventure turned out.

In a way, it seemed like this was where she had been destined to end up ever since her unlikely rescue. She'd escaped death at the Centaurs' hooves, only to willingly come back to it. Now she would be a living scarecrow for the mogul's banner.

Only one good thing had come out of this entire adventure, and that beyond the point when anything could possibly come out of it: on her way up to the mogul's slave pen she had spotted a face she'd never expected to see again. She'd seen her youngest brother, beaten down and ragged, working a hoe in a garden, his slave's collar leashed to the hand of a Centaur like a dog.

Every second, her inevitable fate seemed to loom closer. She had given the mogul exactly the momentum he needed to start his campaign into Human lands, and from the pen high upon the mountainside she could hear the sounds of the mogul's growing war band gathering. With her help, he would be descending on the hinterlands with a significant army. The weakened Seraph and Lionguard would be overwhelmed for sure.

She licked her teeth, and spat out blood and phlegm, leaving her mouth dry as a desert. With any luck she would die of thirst before the Centaurs got ready for war.

She smiled; as if that would ever happen.

All she could do was shift her weight, and hope to die.

Soon enough she heard hooves, coming to take her away.

True to Kytt's words, Throdd had barely made it into the stronghold before a sentry had caught him. The first patrol to reach him had been like water upon a rock, and he'd left them dismembered in pools of their own blood. Others soon came, and his infiltration became a mad chase.

Throdd may be no thief like Kytt or assassin like Felda, but he had avoided Ash, Flame, and Blood on his own in the very crucible of Fireheart Rise. He moved between huts with only his hearing to guide him around the furiously stampeding patrols.

A second group soon caught him.

"Invader!" the Centaur shouted and his brother at arms blew a war-horn even as they charged at him.

Throdd sighed and unsheathed his blades.

The first one levelled a lance at him; easily parried. Throdd's return strike separated torso from body. Next; a charger; too slow. Before the charger's blow landed Throdd took his arm off at the elbow, stepped around and stabbed him through the side. The first Centaur hit the ground as the third came, sweeping wildly at Throdd, mad with fear and anger. Throdd dodged, jammed his shoulder between the poor creature's legs, stabbed upwards, and sent him flying like a dislodged watermill of blood behind him. Last were two sharp-shooters, a few strides off; one male, one female. As they took aim, Throdd threw his swords. Both male and female fell, blades buried deep into their skulls.

He retrieved his swords silently and stalked off. More would come.

A loud crack sounded behind him, and pain flared in his shoulder. A rifle. He must have missed one.

"There!" another voice shouted. Not one; another patrol.

This was getting impossible.

At least the view was incredible.

Ytarr Windmane had been true to his word, and now Tanna was fastened to the mogul's battle standard. Just like he had said, he had stripped the clothes from her, and he had even started flaying her; drawing a long strip of skin from her side.

Her arms were stretched out behind her, like the wings of a bird about to take flight. Swimming in pain and fading between consciousness and feverish dreams, and strung to a banner on the edge of a terrace overlooking the valley, she felt as if she actually might fly away.

Before her eyes was the entirety of the Centaur stronghold. Thousands of huts spread out like boils on a victim of the plague, and beyond were the Woodland Cascades. Massive trees seemed no more than twigs, covering the rolling hills in blankets of green. The sun was tumbling slowly towards the horizon, and Tanna wondered if she would survive until dawn.

There was chaos in the stronghold far beneath her. The others must be trying to save her. It did not matter; the closest sounds were far, far away. The entirety of the garrison was alerted. Whoever was down there wouldn't make it far.

The pain was unbearable, and she wanted desperately to throw herself from the flagpole unto the ground hundreds of feet below her. At least then it would be over. At least then the pain would stop. What fate would await her in the mists then? Would Grenth judge her for her violence, or would he understand? Would she be tossed into a realm of torment, or be allowed to rest?

"Burn me alive," whispered a familiar voice from behind her. "Tanna?"

The world toppled over and her head swam. Strong arms laid her down to rest.

"Tanna!" Throdd's voice was full of fear, "Please…! Open your eyes!"

She did, and saw his eyes cascading with tears. She smiled at him, and his eyes widened as if he were witnessing the gods themselves. Then his face twisted in sorrow.

"Hold on," he murmured, his voice warm in her ear, "I will get you off of there. I'll get you out."

His claws shredded the leather cords binding her to the banner, and gently but swiftly he pulled the spikes out of her hands. Each one was like the core of the world tearing through the crust of the earth in a torrent of burning lava, and a breath whistled through her throat in something like a mockery of a cry. She bucked and writhed, and Throdd held her gently to the ground until she stopped.

"Drink this," Throdd said, and poured a potion down her throat. It tasted like mud and liquorice and blood, so thick she almost gagged. Soon her heart pounded and heat spread into her flesh, and only then did she realize how cold she was. She sat up, and Throdd hugged her softly against the plate of his armor.

"Is it true?" he asked, "Did you kill the children?"

For the first time in her time of captivity, Tanna cried. She nodded, tears of regret pouring down her cheeks.

"You fool," he half growled, half murmured, rocking her like a babe in his arms. "You damned fool!"

Through her own sobs, Tanna heard the hooves approaching, stomping up the wooden steps. She bumped Throdd's chest with her forehead.

"Like a rat in a trap!" the voice sent chills down Tanna's spine. Mogul Ytarr Windmane stood grinning at them by the entrance to the terrace. Scores of Centaurs crowded in before him, their weapons trailed on Throdd and Tanna.

"So it is you!" he said, "The mighty Charr: Blackfist! Oh what a thorn you have been, ever stabbing into our hooves. How many of my kin have you and your guild killed? Hudreds? Thousands?" Throdd growled. Ytarr continued, ecstatic "To finally see you slain, and to personally be the instrument of your demise! Ah! I am truly chosen! Kill him! Spare the girl."

"Tanna," Throdd said, "Shadow-step." Then he lifted her from her feet, and turning away from the charging Centaurs, he threw her off the terrace. A shot sounded, and exploded in Throdd's chest as she slipped from his grasp.

Her eyes were locked on his as she fell; and they were full of compassion and sadness. A lance drove through his back, and another, before she hurtled out of sight, towards certain death.

Chapter 6:

Tanna's stomach lurched as she rushed towards the ground. She only had a second to act; otherwise she would die. With Throdd's dying face branded on her retinas she twisted around to face gravity. One second. She focused, assessing her speed and her distance: was she going to die anyway? She was travelling too fast. One second. Then she stepped, hoping to Lyssa, goddess of fortune, that she'd timed it right.

She emerged from the mists a few feet above the dirt ground and slammed into it immediately after, catching the impact on her legs before slapping flat down onto her stomach. She felt her ankles crack under the force, sending cold, sharp shrapnel of pain thrumming through her body.

There would be many Centaurs still around to catch her. In fact escaping now would be harder than it had been just after killing the Centaur children. She got to her hands and knees and looked around.

She was in a vacant slave pen. The gate was open, so she could easily get out, at least. If she could manage to stand, that is.

She got to one knee, testing her ankle under the weight, and it protested, almost buckling under the meagre pressure. She gritted her teeth and tried to stand anyway. She failed, hissing at the burning flash of pain from her leg.

Then suddenly a veil dropped, and four figures slipped out of stealth: Kytt, Yark, Felda and Bleddyn.

"Hello Twig," Bleddyn smiled. Kytt hurried to Tanna's side, supporting her weight.

"Can you stand?" Kytt asked, wrapping her cloak around Tanna's shoulders. Tanna shook her head, while Kytt tied the cloak around her waist with a piece of rope.

"Where's Throdd?" Yark asked curtly. Tanna shook her head again.

Her gesture was punctuated by a loud thump behind her. She turned with rising panic, and saw Throdd's severed head staring up at her.

"We need to get going," Bleddyn said, his voice a distant echo in Tanna's darkening world.

"Too late," hissed Felda. Tanna broke her eyes from her friend's lifeless head, and saw scores of Centaur warriors converging on their location.

"Kytt, stay with Tanna," Yark said, "The rest of us will find an opening! Felda, make sure no one enters the pen. Bleddyn... do as much damage as you possibly can. I will support you." He hefted his hammer, tweaked a gyro on his exo-suit, and stomped off towards the open gate. Bleddyn dashed off to meet the approaching enemy.

It took only seconds for Centaurs to start dying.

Bleddyn weaved explosions of fire and earth, rent flesh with wind and lightning. Yark moved in like a cannonball, each swing of his hammer as mighty as any spell, shaking the earth where it struck, tossing up dirt. Felda guarded the mouth of the pen like a lioness, shredding to pieces any who entered.

"Tanna, drink this," Kytt said, handing Tanna a potion like the one Throdd had made her drink. She gulped it down greedily, and felt the same warmth spreading through her body once more, repairing her damaged legs.

Soon Tanna could stand again, and Kytt unsheathed two Asuran pistols with revolving chambers.

"Let's get out of this trap!" Kytt squeaked, "Ytarr Windmane will be coming for us!"

They met up with Felda, and together the three of them made it out onto the already wrecked streets outside. The Centaurs were actively avoiding fighting now, shaken by the force of the assault.

Bleddyn joined them again, casting swirling winds around them to deflect incoming bullets and arrows.

"Focus on the enemy, not on us," Kytt urged, "We need to keep moving or we'll get bogged down!"

"Correct!" shouted Yark, bulling his way forward ahead of them. "Follow in my wake! Felda, you cover the rear!"

As they moved their flanks became exposed from side streets. Bleddyn did his utmost to cover all sides at once, but even with his incredible mobility, he could only be in one place at a time. Soon Kytt was firing her pistols to take down sharpshooters and bowmen before they could fire their weapons. Tanna followed close behind her, head swivelling to look for any threats the others missed.

They were thorough, and soon the group reached a little market. Stalls lined the outsides of the rotunda, and the few side streets were replaced by an open battlefield. The Centaurs were still coming in incredible numbers: too many for Bleddyn to protect them from, despite mowing them down with all the efficiency of a grim reaper of Grenth.

Kytt swirled around and unleashed a salvo of twelve shots, each finding its mark in the skull of a Centaur. She hurried to reload, but focused as she was on her guns, she did not see the sharpshooter aiming straight at her.

"Kytt!" shouted Bleddyn.

The little Asura looked up. A shot sounded. She shadow-stepped away.

For a brief moment Tanna looked frantically around to find her little friend, and then she saw her. Kytt had miss-stepped: she was stuck, both legs sunken to the knee in the dirt of the plaza. Kytt shrieked in pain and clutched her left eye. The shot had hit.

"KYTT!" Yark bellowed, and dashed to her side, swinging his hammer like a mad rotor above his head, he took down six Centaurs on the way there.

Bleddyn scooped up Tanna and carried her to Kytt. Felda joined them soon thereafter, putting up a shadow refuge while Bleddyn once more protected them with winds.

Kytt was panting, grimacing from the pain and trying to free her legs from the earth.

"You can't, Kytt," Felda said softly, "You know as well as I, the earth is fused with your legs. I'll have to amputate." Then to Yark: "Make sure she drinks the healing potion right away, or she might bleed out."

Yark nodded, and Kytt steeled herself, pressing a hand against her wrecked eye. Tanna gasped as Felda sliced Kytt's legs off without hesitation. Kytt squealed in agony and toppled face first towards the ground, but Yark caught her. To say that the Norn was cold blooded was a vast understatement. Blood gushed from Kytt's severed knees.

Yark produced another vial of healing liquid and forced it down Kytt's throat. She coughed and sputtered, but the bleeding stopped, and the pain seemed to ease.

"Two seconds," said Bleddyn, and Tanna turned her eyes to the Centaurs surrounding the shelter of wind and shadow.

"Tanna," Yark said darkly, "Tie Kytt to Felda's back." Felda took ropes from Kytt's backpack and handed it to Tanna, who got started right away.

"Yark, take this," Bleddyn said as the shadow refuge began to slip. He touched the Asura's hammer, covering it with a sheet of lightning, blending the summoned weapon with Yark's favourite tool of destruction.

Suddenly visible and unprotected, Bleddyn went on the offensive. He threw his daggers out in whirls of fire, scything down all of the Centaurs who were close enough. The daggers returned to his hands and he summoned forks of lightning instead, striking at Centaurs further back.

Then Yark began his assault, roaring at the top of his lungs, and Tanna had never seen the like. Each strike of his hammer was followed by lightning and thunder, obliterating anything in the immediate area. The wild energy crackled around Yark's golem suit, leaving it singed while he remained unharmed. He rushed southward like a battery of cannonballs, tearing up the landscape.

Tanna finished securing Kytt on Felda's back, and the Norn took off after Yark at such a pace that Tanna was hard pressed to keep up; her legs still hurting. The destruction caused by Yark and Bleddyn was unreal.

Behind them an unnatural storm was forming.

"It's Windmane!" Bleddyn shouted, "Run!"

Strikes of lightning began to rain down towards them, obliterating huts and roads alike. The only thing keeping them alive was Bleddyn. Now panting with exhaustion, he fenced with the storm, deflecting the strikes with such difficulty he was almost killed every second.

"One last shadow refuge!" Yark shouted and Felda obliged, hiding them once more from sight. The rapid fire lightning did not stop. "Tanna, Felda! Shadow step as fast as you can! We need to get gone!"

In a sprint unlike anything Tanna had done before, the five of them rushed headlong away from the Modniir stronghold. Only dumb luck kept Tanna from miss-stepping and getting fused with an unwitting Centaur soldier. She began counting the steps; four, five, six... ending at twenty two well outside the boundaries of the Centaur city, safely away from their pursuers.

They had managed to escape, and now found a moment of respite. Bleddyn caught up seconds later, followed soon thereafter by Yark. Neither of them were pursued.

Yark shouldered his hammer and skipped over to Felda. He put a hand gently on one of Kytt's severed legs.

"Are you alright?" he asked, eyes wide and ears perked.

Kytt chuckled grimly, "I've been better, moron. But thanks, I don't think we could have made it out without you. And... thanks for coming with me in the first place."

Yark frowned, "As if I'd risk losing such a valuable asset."

Behind them the storm in the Centaur city intensified, lightning flashing like fireworks in the sky, wind howling like a thunderous revenant. The noise of thunder and gale joined into a raging cry that Tanna could only imagine as a promise of revenge from Ytarr Windmane.

"We'd best be going..." Yark said. "He will be coming for us."

Chapter 7:

The next morning Tanna found herself back in Throdd's room, and every second threatened to break her heart. Everything carried his musky, furry scent, summoning images of his death: His eyes filled with sadness and hope as he threw her off the terrace; his dead face when his head hit the ground; the soft fur of his side as she cuddled up next to him that first time after her rescue, so long ago now. Worse; she knew that the scent would fade, and she feared that soon she might not even be able to remember it. Just like she could no longer truly remember her mother's face, or the scent or her drakehound.

Throdd was gone, and it was her fault. Kytt was crippled and one-eyed, and that was her fault too.

Their escape from Modniir territory, through the Hinterlands, and back to the guild hall had been the most exhausting thing Tanna had ever done. They had only stopped running twice, to warn the local Seraph garrisons of the coming danger. They had not been taken seriously, and Tanna felt certain that Seraph's Landing and Grey Gritta's post would be destroyed within the day.

Ytarr Windmane was coming for them, and they would not be hard to find, holed up in their guild hall. Tanna hoped Yark would come up with a plan.

Then there was a commotion in the hallway.

"Yark!" Bleddyn's voice echoed in the stone corridor. "Stop, please!"

"Out of my way, Bleddyn," Yark commanded.

Felda was there too: "This is not wise, Yark."

The door to Throdd's room burst open, and Yark stomped in. Tanna rose from the bed, startled by the sudden entry. Yark, wearing his golem suit, clanked up to her, grabbed her by the shirt, and with mechanical force he yanked her face down to his level.

"You insufferable bookah!" he raged at her, "Do you realize what you've done?!"

"Yark, stop!" Bleddyn shouted.

"The mission failed because of you!" Yark would not be held back, his face a greenish mask of hatred inches away from hers. "The pendant is out of our reach! Windmane is coming to destroy our guild hall! Throdd is dead! And Kytt...!" Tears beaded in the corner of his furious silver eyes.

"YARK!" Bleddyn roared, "Shut your arrogant little mouth!"

The Asura rounded on Bleddyn, striking him in the chest with golem powered strength, so hard that Bleddyn tumbled out the door.

"What did you say to me?!" Yark spat.

"Do you really think you are the victim here, you egocentric little bastard?!" Bleddyn barked, spitting a gob of yellow sap onto the stone floor.

Yark started clanking towards the door, and Tanna saw the bright glow of fire starting to form around Bleddyn's hands. He was ready to fight back.

"Enough!" Felda said. She lifted Yark off the floor, golem suit, hammer and all. In a feat of massive strength, she grabbed the shoulder pieces of the sturdy piece of Asuran technology, and tore it apart. Yark fell to the ground, astounded by the Norn's sudden and ruthless interference.

The fiery glow disappeared from Bleddyn's hands.

"It's my fault, Yark," he said, voice sagging with regret.

Yark stared at him in confusion. Felda arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms, placing herself firmly between the two.

"I encouraged Tanna to follow us. I told her how to avoid your detection."

"What?!" Yark hissed, "Why?"

"You know damn well why!" Bleddyn spat, "You and Throdd were both so set on holding her down, keeping her cooped up safely in your little fortress. She wanted to be one of us, and I thought this would be her time to prove herself. And she did, but I do regret the fallout of it."

Tanna, pulled from the role of spectator, realized she was crying. Bleddyn was wrong to think it was his fault.

"That does not change anything," Yark stated. "Throdd is still dead. Kytt is damaged for life. We are done. Everything we've worked for, gone."

"Does Kytt want you to blame Tanna?" Bleddyn asked. "I think not."

Yark stared at the floor and kicked at the wreckage of his suit. Then he looked at Tanna, and his eyes filled with a surprising sadness.

"I'm sorry, Annie..." he said. "I know you never meant us any harm. I don't know... how you'll go on without Throdd."

Tanna nodded. Sleep would be hard to come by from now on. No matter what the others thought, she knew that Yark had been right to blame her. It was her hatred for the Centaurs that had led them here. She should never have come along on a mission against them. She should have known her judgement would be too impaired.

"Okay," said Felda, "Let's get your P.E.G.S. repaired, then we have to figure out what to do."

They met in the courtyard, Yark's golem suit repaired with sparkling new materials. One way or another, they had to do something; run or fight. The Centaurs were coming, and their little guild was the main target.

"We have two options, as far as I'm concerned," Felda said. "Either we seek shelter in Lion's Arch, Hoelbrak, or Divinity's Reach... Or we run and hide. Even discounting Windmane's army, the power of the pendant is too much for us to handle."

"What?!" said Genna, one of the three guild hall guards, "You're just gonna start a war with the Centaurs, then run and hide and let innocent people take the hit for you?!"

"Ytarr Windmane was always planning to use the pendant against humanity, Genna," Yark said. "Our involvement is at this point entirely inconsequential. As a matter of fact, we of the guild made great sacrifices to try and keep the artefact from Windmane. We have done more than enough."

"There is another option," said Bleddyn. "If we warn both the Lionguard and the Seraph about the danger, we could make this a battle instead of a war."

"Unwise," Yark said, "If my guess is correct, the pendant works similarly to a soul battery; ancient artefacts used by the Mursaat, and others. Its power grows with every death around it, which suggests that it has a connection to the blood stone. My point: a battle would swing in Windmane's favour as soon as people start dying. The kind of magic he could unleash would be all the more effective in such a scenario."

"That is where we come in," Bleddyn said. "All it takes is one unseen strike, and we could kill Windmane. In a battle, such opportunities should be plentiful; especially for someone like Felda."

Felda nodded, "It could work."

"Hrm," Yark muttered. Then he turned to Kytt, who had been silent throughout the discussion. She sat in a foldable chair looking miserable. "What do you think?" he asked her.

"I may be able to hide," Kytt said with a snarky smile, "But I think running is out of the question for me. I think Bleddyn's idea is a good one. We could still manage to get a hold of the pendant."

Yark glanced at Tanna, "Your perspective, Annie?"

Tanna stared. Yark had never asked for her opinion before. "Well?" he persisted.

"I don't want another siege of Shaemoor," she signed, and Kytt translated. "Besides, if we can get the Pendant, we'll stop the Centaurs in their tracks. We'll be heroes, and rich. Throdd won't have died in vain."

"Very well," Yark said. "If this is what you all think. Putting the Centaurs in opposition to another force and striking from stealth... not an unacceptable notion. Genna, Calon, Maek... would you carry the warning to Nebo Terrace, Ascalon Settlement, and Lion's Arch? Please stress the importance of assembling an army. It is likely that the Hinterlands are completely overrun by now; tell them that."

The three guards nodded, and started towards the gate.

"Tanna," Yark said, "I do believe you need a new short bow? And perhaps some daggers would suit you as well." He turned to Kytt, "Do you mind if she borrows from your arsenal?"

Kytt grinned, "Give 'em hell, Annie!"

Chapter 8:

The Seraph and Lionguard were both quick to rise to the threat of Ytarr Windmane and his horde. Even the vigil (now part of the Pact) showed up in some small numbers. From what Tanna had heard of them, they should not be underestimated even so.

They were all gathered outside of Ascalon Settlement, with the plan to meet the superior force of the Centaurs at Northfields. Yark was talking to the other commanders, informing them of the threat that Ytarr Windmane posed and of their plan to assassinate him.

Kytt had been left at the inn, and would be staying out of the fighting. Tanna stayed at the edge of the small army alongside Felda and Bleddyn. She was supposed to support the two of them as they tried to find an opening on Windmane. It was strange for her to have an actual role in their plans, and now that it came down to it, she was not sure she was ready.

All in all, the defending army was around four hundred strong. Tanna would be surprised if Windmane brought less than five thousand with him. That left the defenders with a 10 to 1 disadvantage, not to mention Yorgat's Pendant. Yark would probably advocate a bottlenecking tactic, using the lake, river, and valley to their advantage. They could also get trebuchet support from the town if they were pushed back too far. Tanna would not like to risk that, however. If the trebuchets were in range, Windmane would be in range of the town. With the pendant, he might be able to cause serious civilian casualties. Unless Felda and Bleddyn succeeded there may be little choice, however.

"You scared, Twig?" Bleddyn smirked.

She gave him an unamused stare. "Of course I am," she signed.

"That is prudent," he said. "You would be a fool if you were not."

As if to punctuate his sentence, a war-horn blasted to the north, echoed by others, followed by drums. The enemy had arrived, and they were not afraid to show themselves. They whooped and cheered as they poured into Northfields.

The defenders sprang into action, starting a forced march to take position between the Centaurs and Ascalon Settlement.

"Come on!" Felda said, "I would guess Windmane will try to find a vantage point to lead from. Somewhere he can weave his spells from."

"The eastern cliff overlooking the vale road is where I would be, were I him," Bleddyn said.

Felda nodded, "Let us circle around, under water."

"You have an aquabreather, Twig?" Bleddyn asked. Tanna nodded. "To the lake, then."

They went straight east, obscured by a cliff between them and the one they were going to. At the edge of the water, Felda and Bleddyn both dived in with such confidence you might think they spent their entire lives in the water. Tanna hurried after them, careful not to be too loud.

The aquabreather allowed Tanna to breathe indefinitely in the murky lake water. It was more of a challenge for her not to simply float to the surface than it was to be down there. She knew there were probably drakes and skale and carnivorous fish in the lake, but tried not to think too much about it as she followed close behind Bleddyn.

He swam like a Krait, using his entire body to snake ahead, and he was quick. With Tanna's frog-style swimming she had to work hard to keep up. She breathed hard in the breather, sending swarms of bubbles floating to the surface.

They surfaced soon, Felda leading the way. Peeking out from the reeds, they found themselves right in the flank of the Centaur forces. Felda pointed towards the cliff, where Ytarr Windmane stood, surveying his forces as they surged forward. Next to him was the battle standard that Tanna had been nailed to. She glanced down at her hands, and saw a pale dot on each hand from where the spikes had been.

"Let's wait a minute," Felda said. "This will only work if he is preoccupied."

Within ten seconds the battle was joined, seemingly on three fronts. The eastern front was just south of where Tanna, Bleddyn and Felda lay waiting in the water. The central front was on the road between the cliffs. Tanna could not see the western front, but she guessed it was very similar to the eastern one. All in all, the front lines on each side would have room for roughly fifty soldiers at a time. That was an eighth of the defending forces. The battle could be over very quickly indeed if it swung in the Centaurs' favour.

Fortunately it seemed the predominantly Human defending force had the stronger soldiers. The vigil on the banks of the western front held against the initial charge of the Centaurs, and as the four-legged soldiers lost their momentum the defenders began to push back.

The battle-fortune only lasted until Ytarr Windmane joined the battle. With the pendant glowing around his neck the newly crowned warlord raised a fist, and with a thunderclap the ground exploded in a cloud of dust, obscuring the western flank from view.

Just like Shieldbluff Point, Tanna thought.

"Now!" Felda hissed, enveloping herself, Tanna and Bleddyn in her shadow refuge.

They moved northward until they reached the rear of the Centaur force, then slipped out of the water, as silent as skelks. They had to hurry, lest the veil of stealth fade before reaching the warlord. Tanna jogged close behind Bleddyn, glancing anxiously towards the massive Centaur army, just strides to her left. Even if they killed Ytarr, and got the pendant, getting out alive seemed an impossible scenario.

A shadow-step's distance away from the warlord, Felda unsheathed her sword.

Ytarr Windmane snapped his eyes onto her, and with a grin he shouted to her, even as he released another deadly blast of wind: "I sense you, Gellirsdottir, Bleddyn! And you, nameless girl! I have a place for you on my banner still!"

Felda shadow-stepped despite losing the element of surprise, appearing just behind Windmane. Her sword flashed, quick as a viper.

The sword stopped short, held by an invisible force. With a hurricane windblast in every direction, Windmane hurled Felda from sight, into the staggering force of Centaurs. The Norn woman yelled in frustration as she tumbled through the air, and Tanna feared she may not survive the fall. The blast hit Tanna like a wall in the chest, throwing her back down the slope.

The veil of invisibility faded, and the dust from Ytarr's blasts was carried off by his latest spell. Tanna was in full sight of the Centaurs in the rear of the army. She chanced a look towards Bleddyn, who was charging full speed at Windmane.

The Centaurs saw Tanna, and when they did they came for her. There was no way for her to fight that many; she was not sure she could kill one of them alone. There were too many for her to count. She had to flee; perhaps lead them on a wild chase to buy Bleddyn some time.

She shadow-stepped northward, away from the oncoming tide of enemies. Bleddyn was engaging the overpowering magic of Ytarr Windmane, and by the looks of it, he was losing. The battle that took place was the stuff of legends. The warlord threw blast after blast of wind and lightning at the defiant Sylvari elementalist. Bleddyn deflected each stroke, weaving his own magic with all of his body behind it, his fists crackling with lightning. The blows struck the ground around Bleddyn, tearing the earth of the slope apart, with all the ferocity of a raging dragon.

Coming up the slope were sharpshooters and archers, their weapons set to kill Bleddyn. There was no way he could defend himself from them while fighting Ytarr. This was why Tanna was with him. This was her moment.

She pulled the short bow from her back, nocked an arrow and fired it towards the Centaurs aiming at her Sylvari friend. As the arrow fell, Tanna drew Kytt's daggers, then she 'stepped just before the arrow found its mark in a Centaur's eye. The spray of blood hit Tanna in the face, and the Centaur roared in agony. She darted in between the beasts, stabbing at their flanks, slashing their tendons.

One last enemy, she thought, heading for the last of the sharp-shooters still focused on Bleddyn. Then she toppled, knocked down by charging hooves. The trampler stormed past her, too far, and was obliterated by the gargantuan battle of magic held between Sylvari and Centaur. More came, and they were upon her before she could get to her feet.

One second, then her bones would be broken by hooves, her skull crushed like it should have been long ago. Still lying, she shadow-stepped. She had no momentum.

The sky turned to purple storms, to orange sunset, to star speckled night. The grass turned brown, was covered in snow, died completely, leaving the rock and earth bare.

Once more Tanna saw that strange creature she had once glimpsed. The creature grinned at her, and vanished.

Get up, a voice said inside her mind. You have to help him.

She did.

"But how do I get out of here?" she asked, not with hands: with her voice.

"I'll help you," said a familiar voice behind her. She turned, and was faced with a massive shape of spectral energy; furry and black-fisted.

"Throdd!" she almost wept.

"Hey cub... We'll speak again soon. For now, we must help Bleddyn. I'll always be with you."

He grabbed her around the waist, like he had on that terrace where he died, and then he threw her once more.

The world solidified, and Tanna found herself hurtling through the air towards the northern end of the slope, away from the Centaurs. She landed on legs much stronger than her own, her hands grasped the earth to slow her momentum, but she did not feel it. Like gauntlets, two massive black paws of spectral matter flittered around her hands and forearms.

Come on, pup, Throdd said within her mind, draw your daggers.

She did, and they extended into ghastly serrated blades, just like Throdd's.

With the comforting scent of fur filling her nostrils, Tanna 'stepped back towards the tramplers.

The Centaurs were only steps away, and they noticed her arrival. Let me take control for a while, Throdd said. Tanna let herself slip into the back of her own mind, and Throdd took a powerful, charr-like stance.

When the tramplers reached her, Throdd danced with her, guiding her hands and the spectral blades sprouting from her daggers. At first careful, Throdd guided her around her enemies' attacks, dodging before swinging, parrying before riposting. Her spectral blades severed flesh as surely as if they had been real, and with force she thought might be greater than Throdd had possessed in life.

Trust in me, she said to him in her mind's voice, you don't need to be so careful.

She smiled, not sure if the smile was hers or Throdd's, and swiped her blades in a crescent ahead of her. The blades extended to reach far beyond what a normal sword would, and the blow struck down a score of Centaurs.

As the spectral blades receded, she felt an exhaustion take hold of her arms, as if she had just carried bars of steel for hours on end. Of course, she thought, power comes at a cost.

Having finally a moment of respite, she looked to Bleddyn and found that he was losing his battle. The Sylvari was encased in spheres of air and earth, desperately reconstructing his defences as Ytarr Windmane demolished them with blows that shook the earth. Snakes of fire licked out at the warlord, but were swatted away without effort.

Behind her, the defenders were pushing ahead again. Bleddyn had spared them from the extreme destruction that Ytarr could cause, and they seized the opportunity to push back against the thickly packed Centaurs.

But Bleddyn was failing fast, every barrier feebler than the last.

No, Annie! You can't! You'll die!

Tanna ignored Throdd's cautioning voice, pushed it to the back of her mind. As she did, his aura vanished from around her hands, his strength drained from her body.

She took a deep breath, stared at the warlord's attacks, seeking a rhythm. The 'step would need precision within a margin of inches. She closed her eyes, and 'stepped.

She opened them again, and she was an inch from Ytarr Windmane's face, just like she had been when she was captured. The only thing different was his expression; now one of intense surprise. His eyes were wide and his mouth gaped in the process of saying or shouting something, or merely to exclaim non-verbally.

She snatched the amulet from his neck, the leather cord snapping under her weight. Then she tried to step again, but was caught in the fringe of one of Windmane's attacks: launched before the loss of the amulet. She could not react in time, and shadow-stepped despite the new element of force.

She flashed into existence again, and the world tumbled around her. She hit the ground hard, her back protesting at the unnatural twist of her body.

She shook her head and looked around her. She had appeared at the bottom of the slope, close to the water. She looked up towards Bleddyn and saw him rising from the crater around him. His shoulders shook; he was laughing.

Then he unleashed a torrent of flames that consumed the warlord in seconds, leaving behind a charred body smoking like a pyre.

A cheer went up from the defenders, and the Centaurs wavered. Bleddyn looked towards Tanna, and for a second she saw that his face was full of greed.

Tanna watched in stunned fear as Bleddyn took a deep breath, then braced to rush at her. She got up to her knees. Then as flames began propelling Bleddyn forward, something struck the back of her head.

The world darkened.

The world swam, echoes of her thoughts dancing in the darkness behind Tanna's eyelids. She opened her eyes, and began feeling a wetness in her hair.

"Good morning, Twig," said Bleddyn's familiar voice, "Or should I say evening? The sun is going down."

"Wait," she mumbled with her hands, "You were attacking me!" Her gestures grew sharper with each word.

"I am sorry," Bleddyn said, sounding only vaguely sincere, "But I did also heal you just now."

So that was what the wetness in her hair had been: water magic.

"I struck you in the back of the head with a rock. The way you were darting around during the battle, I thought deception may be the only way to catch you."

Then Tanna noticed the obvious; around Bleddyn's neck was Yorgat's Pendant. The amulet no longer glowed.

"What about the battle?" Tanna signed.

"After I took the amulet from you I made a display of my superiority to Ytarr Windmane," he spat the name. "Few Centaurs left the field of battle alive, and I think Northfields may go barren for years. The rock of the earth melted under my flames."

She stared at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"You are wondering why I knocked you out," he said. "I think you know. I could not risk letting the pendant fall into Yark's hands; the little fool would sell it. I had to take it for myself."

Tanna signed, "I would have given it to you, if only to end the battle decisively."

"I know," Bleddyn said, this time with actual regret in his voice, "I am sorry. Within the heat of the moment I did not have time to consider it."

Tanna looked around. They were somewhere north of Lake Gendarr. Like Bleddyn had said, the sun was setting, and to the south west a massive column of smoke rose against the sky, dispersed northward by the wind.

"Why did you bring me here?" Tanna asked.

Bleddyn smiled a sad smile. The expression reminded Tanna of the one he had worn when comparing her to a caged bird to convince her to follow the guild on their mission.

"I guess you realize now that I intend to leave the guild behind. Well, although I did bring you partly to keep you away from any Centaur stragglers, the main reason is that I want you to come with me."

Tanna scoffed. "And go where?"

"Everywhere!" Bleddyn spread his arms in one of those grand gestures he was so fond of.

"I'm sorry," she gestured, standing up. Her head pounded when she did, as if a hundred hammers were beating on her temples. "I can't."

"Why?" Bleddyn asked, apparently entirely unable to see any reason for her to stay.

"Kytt," Tanna gestured, as a palm tree on top of her head, "I can't leave her alone now. She's hurt, and she'll need a friend."

Bleddyn sighed at the heavens. "Tanna, we don't belong with them. Their rule is to fit in, ours to transcend. Even if you were to become an equal, you would be no less trapped by boundaries. Yark sees naught but social advancement. You see the need to sometimes circumvent social structures."

Tanna shook her head, "I am not like you, Bleddyn."

Bleddyn grimaced, staring at something non-existent to his left. Tanna turned, and started walking towards Ascalon Settlement in the south west.

"Wait, Tanna! Please!" Bleddyn said behind her, but she kept walking. "Tanna! Please! I don't want to be alone!"

Tanna stopped, and turned to see him – the man who had slain thousands of Centaurs earlier in the day – look truly desperate.

"You are the one leaving, not me," she signed. "I will find you some day, Petal."

She started walking again and did not turn back.