Disclaimer: Guild Wars is property of ArenaNet. All characters (Save for any Guild Wars characters, like Rurik) are my own.

The Charr Wars

Prologue

Ascalon. A kingdom located in north-western Tyria. A place of beauty and mystery. A thriving center of commerce and honor. A place of glory. Far to the north of this lush Eden is a far uglier facade of Ascalon. A place called The Northlands. The Northlands are inhabited by creatures called the Charr. Beasts born of fire, ember and ash, bred for one purpose. To consume and to destroy. The Ascalonians built a great wall, over five-hundred miles long. It's sole purpose was to keep the Charr from their beautiful cities.

And it worked, for a time. Ascalon was at peace, the Charr were but the rumors of drunkards and children, kept quite by the city guard. No one would believe what form of destruction can be wrought in one short, tragic day.

The last day dawns on the kingdom of Ascalon. It arrives with no fanfare, no tolling of alarms. The few who would remember would speak fondly of the warm morning breeze. The people of Ascalon carry about their daily lives; unaware that in a few short hours, all they knew would come to an ended.

The king of Ascalon, Adlebern, stood atop a plateau where he could veiw the battle which raged below. Several dozen of Ascalon's veteran warriors, the Vanguard, held the city against a relentless Charr assault. Wave after wave was dispersed by the tiring soldiers. Dispersed, but just. Adelbern, adorned in his fur-lined cape, the burning weapon held at his side, sighed and turned to the young boy standing behind him. "Scribe." He mused in a gruff, commanding voice which could only come with age.

"Yes, mi'lord?" The scribe responded instantly, willing to do anything to please his king. King Adlebern swung his sword before him, the soft crackling of the burning blade adding to the chaos below.

"These Charr are relentless... But we must hold the Wall at all costs!" He focused his attention to the battle below. "Take this message to Sir Tydus." he paused to let his scribe prepare. "Go forth and recruit the strongest; the smartest. Bring me the heroes who shall lead our kingdom to glory!" He flung his sword up, blade to the sky in victory.

"Yes, my lord." The scribe darted off to find Sir Tydus to deliver the message. Adlebern looked about the battlefield and sighed heavily.

"And may Dwayna have mercy upon us all."

-Seven Hours Later-

A small caravan of Ascalon Vaguard trudged through the Northlands at night, traveling north, praying to meet a band of Charr animals. This chain of wagons traveled silently in the still night air, one in particular noticeable in the rear. The monotony of the brown wagons was broken by a lone female figure perched above, her head scanning the dark horizon endlessly. This wagon held ten individuals, nine, if you include the lone figure on the roof. Starting from the entrance on the left, there was a Warrior. A woman named Serras Nerra. She was sound asleep on a bench, her sword leaning against an easily-accessable wall. The man next to her, a Ranger by the name of Kouga Wolfwalker, sat bearly awake, plucking at the string of his bow, checking it's tensile strength.

Next to Kouga was a rather petite looking woman, her figure hidden by the robes. Her name was Kyyranna Anasi; a transferr from Elona and a Sunspear. Her head was back, her eyes covered by her hood and leaning against the back wall, her Scythe braced between her legs. Seated next to Kyyranna was Sakura Mitsai. A Ritualist from the land of Cantha to the south, and also a transfer. The headwrap around her head shielded her eyes from any light that may have been present in the dim light, and a staff gripped in her hand.

At first glance, one may think the woman sleeping on the back wall bench was a corpse. Her skin paler then the midnight moon. Her eyes, when opened, were a strange pale green. Despite this look of death, the woman had very fair skin. The only dead-giveaway, excuse the pun, was the sight of her chest rising and falling as she breathed. She was a Necromancer by the name Erizen Prophecy. Her friends called her Arisen Prophecy; a mistake which originated to her first days in the Ascalon Vanguard Academy. When they were told to give their names, she had said "Erizen Prophecy", which everyone heard as "Arisen Prophecy". The name stuck. Only her close friends were allowed to call her Arisen Prophecy. However, Erizen was, by all accounts, awkward as far as Necromancers went. Instead of drawing the line at reanimating bodies, she also went as far as creating them. She was the only one of the eight who did not conform to their profession's stereotypes.

On the bench adjacent to Sakura was a man adorned it bright white armor. A transfer from Elona, he was a Paragon, and a Sunspear. No one really knows much about him, save for his quite demeanor. It took the nine Vanguard Soldiers four weeks to even learn his name; Sogolon Vimiria. Arrogant and headstrong, Sogolon made sure everyone knew that he was named after a great Sunspear hero who died several hundreds of years ago. A fact no one except Kyyranna really cared about. His arrogant demeanor got everyone in more trouble then anything else, but like any true double-edged sword, nine time out of ten, the same arrogant behavior got them out of it, too.

Next to Sogolon was a very, very small woman named Maria Despair. But unlike Kyyranna's petiteness, it was not how thin Maria was, but how small, physically, she was. Standing only four foot six, she was tiny beyond comprehension. But, when mocked for her hight, she always had the same retort available. "Hey, you be tall. That's cool. When things start heating up, when the arrows start flying. I'll be sure to hide behind you, okay?" Maria was not asleep. She rarely slept any longer then an hour. Instead, she was seated on the bench, her feet pulled under her indian style, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes shut. She was, as she was always doing, praying to Dwayna for a safe trip. Unlike the other nine Vanguard in the wagon, she was whole-heartedly against combat, for she had seen the power it had to change men's lives forever.

Next to Maria was another woman. While not quite as short as Maria, standing at five nine, this woman gave off a bubbly aura. And it fit. Rurik had once described her as "The cute candlestick". Her natural personality was a cute, friendly school girl. But, when the battle turned on, so did her bloodlust. Mastering fire magic, she usually left her opponents a burning corpse. Quistise Trepe was her name. She, like Maria, wasn't very fond of weapons. She relied on her connection with the arcane to defeat her foes. Therefore, she saw weapons as superfluous tools.

Finally, seated next to Quistise and closet to the exit on the right side, was Setsuna Mia, a Mesmer. However, unlike most Mesmers, she was a big team-player, using her mind-altering Domination abilities to confound her opponents. Unlike everyone else, she was the only person who would forgo the extra protection her mask afforded her in exchange for the atheistic value of not wearing one. Something most everyone neither understood, or cared to.

Moving outside the wagon, to the top of the canvas, we see the final member of the caravan. A lone, slender figure who was seen earlier. Her name is Xenobia Shadoweaver, her chosen path in life is that of the Assassin. Her voluntary job every night was to keep watch over the wagon, and be sure nothing became of it. A job she did with deadly efficiency. She was supposed to alert Rurik of any trouble, but she often found herself ignoring that rule, and dropping whatever it was quickly, and with no sound, save for the dull thud of the body striking the ground.

-

The night progressed without incident. The wagon train had stopped to allow its occupants sleep, without the rough riding of the road. The only two people who were awake was Xenobia, on her nightly patrol, and Erizen. The Necromancer within the wagon stirred uneasily in her sleep, plagued by some unknown menace. Sweat poured down her face, pooling under her head, trailing down her top, turning her blood to ice. If it were at all possible, her skin's tone turned paler then normal, then fading to a soft ice blue. She began to toss and turn violently, muttering some unknown sentence over and over again in her sleep. Atop the wagon, Xenobia heard Erizen stir. Concerned, the Assassin, leaped towards the edge of the wagon, grabbed the frame firmly and flipped into the entrance. She landed with a soft pat of her feet on the wood. Her eyes, already attuned to the dim light, adjusted further. She saw what was making that sound. Erizen was muttering 'don't... don't kill them...' to an unknown assailent. She crept towards the disturbed Necromancer and reached a hand out to check her temperature. As a reaction, Erizen snapped out of her trance, grabbed the sword from her side and drew it up to Xenobia's neck. Seeing this reaction coming, Xenobia grabbed one of the Sai's from her shoulder pouch and blocked the blade.

"You're fast..." Xenobia smiled behind the mask. Putting her Sai away.

"You're faster..." Erizen replied, dropping the sword. She managed to sit up, despite the weakness she felt in her bones. "What's wrong?" Erizen asked Xenobia, trying to pretend she was fine.

"You're not yourself now, are you?" The Assassin asked. The Necromancer simply smiled weakly and waved that thought away.

"Nonsense. I'm fine." She replied.

"Don't lie. I was trained to read people like a book. And you're wide open to the world. What's wrong? Who's killing who?"

"Oh... that. It was nothing. Nightmares."

"Sometimes, Arisen, nightmares are just dreams gone bad. But, most of the time, expecially the nightmares of a Necromancer, they hold something behind them. Tell me about these nightmares."

"It's nothing. Trust me. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine in the morning." She laid back down and tried to go back to sleep.

"Alright. But I'm going to watch you..." Erizen tried to protest. "Like it or not, I'm watching you. Don't worry. You'll never know I'm here. No one ever does." Erizen nodded, then went back to sleep, Xenobia sitting on the ground before her, her ever watchful gaze upon her.

-That Morning-

Everyone filed out of their wagon in the morning and stood at attention, facing their Prince. Xenobia, Kyyranna, Sogolon and Sakura had simply accepted him as their Prince, despite the fact they held no loyalties to him, only to Elona and Cantha, respectivly.

"Good morning, everyone. I trust you all slept well, as we have a fight on our hands. One of our scouts reports a group of Charr moving this way. As soon as everyone is fed, we shall press eastwards and meet them head on..." he trailed off, distracted by some fact. "We are missing someone... no... two someones. Find them..." He told everyone, thinking they went AWOL.

"Prince Rurik!" Xenobia shouted from the rear wagon. Everyone turned their attention to her. Xenobia was one of the two someones Rurik thought were AWOL. "Come quickly! Something's wrong with Erizen!" The eight closest to her rant he fastest.

Rurik and Xenobia entered the wagon at the same time. On the bench lay the Necromancer, her skin icy to the touch, barely breathing.

"What happened to her?" Kouga mused from the rear.

"I can't say. I was watching her last night... and I must have dozed off. Yea, right. Me. Doze off... That's a new one. When I came too, she was like this. I tried to see if she was alright, but she's cold. Piercingly cold." Xenobia moved closer. Rurik put his hand to her forehead, but retracted it instantly.

"By Balthazaar's Beard! She's dead cold, yet still breathing! How could this happen?"

"If I may interject, Prince..." Setsuna added. "I've read a bit about pure-bred Necromancers. I've heard they have the ability to gain strength from the deaths of their foes... but the death of anyone close to them weakens them. Slightly, but it does. This cold could be drawn from the death of someone close to her..."

"Yea... but does she even know enough people to be plunged into a deathly chill like that? If what you say is true, it would take... hundreds of people... thousands, maybe." Kyyranna replied, squeezing her head between Rurik and Kouga's shoulders. Xenobia nodded.

"That's what I find so weird about the whole thing. As far as I know, she doesn't know that many people." Xenobia spoke again. Rurik sighed.

"Well. If we don't know what caused this, we have no way of treating it. I'll have one of the monks watch her... it's all we can do right now. We can't pull back because of one sick Necromancer. We move to meet the Charr. Grab your belongings." Everyone filed out of the wagon, leaving Xenobia to her thoughts temperarily. The blond-haired Assassin reached over and moved Erizen's hair from her face. She muttered something inaudible, then leaped from the wagon.

-North of the Ascalon Wagon Train-

The phalanx of Ascalon Veterans stood strong in the bitter chill wind. On the horizon, a line of figured appeared and began to approach the soldiers. Charr. And lots of them. Several of the men began muttering nonsensical, babbling panicked words, and right down locking up with fear.

In the lead were the remaining nine Vanguard. From left to right was Serras, Kyyranna, Sogolon, Kouga, Xenobia, Maria, Setsuna, Sakura, and Quistise. Serras' face was adorned with a huge grin. The only place Serras was really, truly happy, was in the heat of combat, the bodies of her slain enemies at her feet, standing knee deep in their blood. Kyyranna held her head low, muttering some prayer to Melandru (One Kouga mimicked), her Scythe in her hands, the pointy, stabby end facing the advancing Charr army. Sogolon was dead silent, his spear held aloft over his head, his shield in his hand. Kouga was once more tuning his bow, muttering Kyyranna's prayer to Melandru. Maria busy casting some of the few Protection Prayers she knew on herself and some of her friends. Setsuna was busy dancing in place, a way of bolstering troop moral. Dominating the minds of the weak was her first job. Making people smile; her second. Sakura had summoned several spirits, (namely a Spirit of Shelter, a Spirit of Pain, and a Spirit of Blood Song.) And, to add insult to injury, cast Vital Weapon on Xenobia, Kyyranna, Sogolon and Serras. She was smiling at her job-well-done as she pulled the headwrap down around her eyes.

Quistise was standing on the end of the row with her hands over her head, a small flame floating in mid air. After several seconds, she pulled the flame (which had grown into a ball of fire) close to her chest. She smiled, cradeling the ball, adding:

"It's like a big, lethal loogie!" She turned to Sakura. "Wanna hold it?" She grinned, holding it out to the Ritualist. Sakura pleasantly declined. The Charr stopped advancing. The large Flame Wielder in the middle growled audibly, even over the several meter distance. He threw his arm forwards, urging the Charr in his command to charge. Rurik did the same, adding:

"FOR ASCALON!" His cry was echoed by Sogolon and Kyyranna shouting "FOR ELONA!" and Xenobia and Sakura roaring "FOR CANTHA!" At this point, both armies charged towards each other, and the epic battle began.

-

The Vanguard were horribly outnumbered, but in no way out gunned. While the Charr had the advantage of size and numbers over the Ascalonians, the Ascalonians had the advantage of training and skill. Plus the occasional Firestorm conjured by Quistise. But, the Charr had another, hidden skill that the Ascalonians weren't expecting. Charr had about four times more stamina then humans did, so they could fight for longer periods of time the their fur-less foes.

Serras collapsed to one knee, supported by her sword, breating heavily. Her friends rustled around her, blocking and parring the Charr's blades. Pulling her pride into her stomach, Serras stood and drew her sword again. Towards the middle of the mass, Rurik had driven his Fiery Dragon Sword into the gut of a Charr Mind Spark and in response, the aforementioned Mind Spark flipped over, broke it's skull open on a rock, and quicker then you can say 'that hurt', the lifeless body began convulsing in place. Serras collapsed again from exhaustion right before the body. She watched it's pained death throws, before the chest of the creature finally exploded producing a golem constructed entirely from flesh and bone. The massive creature stretched and roared into the waining morning light, the sun about to reach it's apex over the heads of the humans and Charr. Ascalonians and Charr alike stood in feared wonder lust. The newly created Flesh Golem roared again, brought it's hands high above Serras' head and held them there. As a reaction, Serras pulled her shield up to block the massive blow. She closed her eyes and heard the crunch of bones snapping, but felt nothing. After opening her eyes and dropping her shield, she saw the Flesh Golem pulverizing a Charr Axe Fiend into dust. It then turned its malicious gaze to a Martyr who was about as shocked as you could be.

"What on Tyria?" Kyyranna questioned, kicking her scythe out of the gut of a Flame Wielder. "Give me my scythe back you fuzzball!" She called, struggling. The Flesh Golem the charged through the group of Charr like a bowling ball through pins. As several of the recently deceased Charr hit the ground, they, too, exploded into similar Flesh Golems, one even before it hit the ground.

"I don't know who's doing it, but keep it up!" Sogolon called. Kouga smirked. The tide of battle had shifted heavily in their favor.

"Prince Rurik! No one's doing it! None of us can do something like that."

"Sorry I'm late." A female voice called from Rurik's side. He turned his gaze to see Erizen riding a Flesh Golem, her sword in hand.

"Erizen!" Her nine friends shouted.

"I feel much better now. Whoa, hold up." She raised her hand up, a green aura surrounding her fist. From one of the nearest corpses, several tailed, headless skeletons appeared, and began lobbing bone arrows from their tails.

"I didn't know you were a Minion Master." Kyyranna smiled.

"Neither did I, to tell you the truth. I just decided to give it a try, and to tell you the truth. It's fun.

"Excellent! Let's give these Charr something they'll never forget!" Rurik called.

-

The Charr, needless to say, were at a heavy disadvantage. For every one of their troops that fell in combat, another was animated for the Humans. The Charr commander, seeing that fighting and loosing more troops would be an unintelligent idea, decided to pull back. He motioned to several of his suborniates to sound a general retreat which, to the humans, sounded like a frenzied battlecry. Some falling to the Flesh Golems, others managed to escape with minor to moderate wounds, the majority of the Charr army did manage to fall back, the ranks breaking into a chaotic about face.

"Stand down! We have them on the run! That shall show those dogs not to mess with Ascalon!" Rurik shouted as the Charr disappeared just as they had appeared.

Five of the Ascalonian soldiers were killed in that fight. The first to die was killed in a particuarly gruesom method which I have opted not to delve into, to save the sanity of some of our younger readers. The second simply couldn't get out from under one of the Charr stampede. Numbers three, four and five, were all killed by a particularly vicious Blade Storm who didn't quite know the meaning of the term 'defensive assault'. Most of the other soldiers were tired, wounded and hungry, but on the whole, alright.

"I have to admit, Erizen. You preserved our asses." Xenobia smiled, unclasping her mask from its clips on the neck guard of her Valkyrie Garb. "But there's one thing I just can't get. You looked of death when we last saw you. How'd you turn around so fast?"

"Ah... well you know me." Erizen smiled, throwing her arms up. "Hell hath no fury like a Necromancer in the battlefield." The Flesh Golems she had animated were milling around some of the bodies, searching for any good items they could salvage or use.

"How long will these... things... last?" Kyyranna asked, pointing to one of the idle Golems. "Will they like... decay or something?"

"Nope. You see, the reason why humans die after a time is because our flesh decays, it eats itself. Since these things are already dead, their flesh can't eat itself. They'll last as long as I will them too, or until they fall in battle. To at which point, I'll just animate another." Erizen replied, reaching her hand out to pet one of the Golems. "Beautiful, aren't they? They don't need food, water, sleep. All they need is me, and my compassion, and they'll serve unquestionably." She stroked the Golem's head. It lowered itself down towards her and almost purred in response, soaking the attention. "Yes..." Erizen cooed to it. "I love you too." She looked over to some of the others. "I love you all. You are all very special. You are all my special little Bone Babies... and I love you like my own, special, rotting, undead children." She gave the closest a quick kiss on the cheek (If gigantic, murderous creatures comprised completely from bone, flesh and decaying skin, kept moving and under the control of one woman through the means of demonic magicks, kept secret through centuries by a secret order of Necromancers, even HAVE cheeks.) and continued to pet it.

"Okay, yea, Erizen. Kinda creepy." Kouga muttered, plucking at his bow once more.

"Whatever you think. I'm just going to animate some more here." She replied, the same green aura surrounding her hands.

"How can you keep so many under control?" Sakura questioned.

"I don't really control them, persay, as they have a connection to me. They know who my friends are, and who my enemies are. They bide by my friends, and slaughter my foes. It's good stuff, really."