Author's notes to you, the reader:

Asterix and the comic franchise are © to Albert Uderzo & René Goscinny

Guild Wars and its game franchise are © to Arenanet

I do not own any of the characters. Most of the Tyrian characters in this fiction were made up on the fly, and therefore relations/similarities with existing Non-Player and Player characters are purely coincidental. (of course, there are exceptions)

Hi there! Phew, my first fanfiction in a long time (Truly, I have never been this serious about writing one since 10 years ago!). Let's see how it'll turn out.

This fiction takes Asterix as the main character, as he discovers and experiences the vast world of Tyria on his own as he adapts to it, makes allies and enemies, and takes on some of the threats that loom over this beautiful, mysterious world.

Being an MMORPG, the world of Guild Wars 2 has a lot of lore and history in it, and as such, there will be many descriptive references to it in the fiction. People who play the game will find themselves recognizing and remembering those, but as a reader, they are meant to experience it like the main character does: delving into the unknown, danger constantly lurking.

Opposingly, even though some of you who play the game may be reading this, not many will know about the french comic Asterix the Gaul and the history/lore revolving the franchise. And so, I make sure when anything historical and traditions/beliefs around the franchise are mentioned, that they are accompanied with an asterisk (*) and that at the end of each chapter, they will be described to you accordingly.

Due to the nature of the game, this story will contain blood, violence, and death (oh my!) It may contain use of alcohol in future chapters. Nothing too serious, but it can get a little intense from time to time. If you're not comfortable with these ratings, you can back out at any time. I won't judge.

Closing off, I would like to mention special thanks to Zeragii for being my first-draft reviewer in this! Please read, enjoy, and review!

"Test: one, two, three. Test: one, two, three."

Clawed, four-fingered hands tapped on a red, holographic display. It showed buttons, texts that were illegible, diagrams and bars. For the normal mind, this would be impossible to decipher, yet the silhouette of the short figure stood before it, its fingers dancing along the screen as if it were child's play.

"Ready to deploy the meta-necromatic charge?" another silhouette standing beside the first figure asked. It was maybe a few inches taller than the other. Its voice was rather high-pitched, but it was clearly that of a male.

"Nearly. We have to make sure he is ready first. Can't be too careful, you know," the first one answered. This voice had a hint of feminine touch in it.

"Hey, you two. Status report," the taller one called out to two other figures, standing near a cryotube filled with glowing crimson liquid. The silhouette of a lifeless body was submerged within it, held in place with various kinds of equipment. The two figures who were monitoring the status of the object raised their large, almost rabbit-like ears, that normally lopped from either side of their ellipsoid heads. They were dressed in red and black, much like their tools and machinery. Large wide eyes, once evolved to see well in darkness, glanced up to their superior.

"Everything is in place, sir," one of the two creatures called to him, giving him the thumbs-up.

"Start the meta-necromatic module," the leader commanded.

"Booting meta-necromatic module," the female repeated after him. A light humming noise filled the dark room.

"Hydraulic fusion-primer at 70%. 95%. 100%. Activating primer," she said, as she read the lines on her display out loud, fingers continually tapping buttons on the screen.

"Macro-transfuser at full, ready to deploy meta-necromatic charge." The girl glanced up at their test subject. "On your order, sir."

The leader had kept his bright-yellow eyes on the body suspended in the unclear liquid all along. This is it, this is the day that the Inquest will prevail. No, that he will prevail! All those egotistical loudmouths that talked his theories back will see. They all will see. He is a genius! His smile turned into a grin, and his shark-like teeth glinted.

"Activate," he hissed under his breath.

GAH!

A shock of pain ran through his entire body, coursing through his veins and bones as though lightning had struck him. He could hear and feel it thumping and thrumming, but this kind of pain was different. It felt like there was an earthquake inside of him, every tremor stirring something that should be sleeping. First, it was his mind that shook awake. It was all a blur, but something told him he was close to dying.

The next shock awakened his heart, thumping desperately in an attempt to pump blood through his body. The noise it made echoed in his head, crying out. Breathe! You have to breathe!

Another shock. His eyes sprang open, but it showed him nothing. Breathe! Breathe! He opened his mouth, trying to gasp for air, but there was none. Bubbles of air escaped him. It was only now that he realized he was somehow underwater. His mind panicked. Gods! I'm going to die!

He heard the muffled sound of voices yelling out, but he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. His mind clouded, the voices around him grew silent once more. He felt something tugging at him and pulling him out of the water. But it was too late... his mind slipped back into oblivion.

The first sound he heard since that moment were footsteps, pattering closer and closer. He laid perfectly still, waiting for his mind to clear up. Then he heard the scratching sound of a chair being pulled up beside him, and then, a voice. It was unlike any other he'd heard. It sounded blurry and vague first, but then, slowly, he could make out words.

"...reathing...puls...stable..."

He wanted to take in a deep breath, but instead he sputtered and coughed roughly. It hurt so much that he pressed his eyes shut even further than they had been before. The figure sitting next to him jumped in shock, staring at him quietly for a few moments before rushing back and prying one of his eyes open with its dry, sandpaper-like fingers. A bright flash of light shone into the eye, its pupil forcibly pinching itself as tiny as possible. He squinted and tried to raise a hand and swat the invader off, but found that he had a hard time doing so. He didn't care if, whoever it was, was a friend or foe. He just wanted to be left alone.

"State your name," a girly voice commanded.

There was no response that came back.

"State your name!" This time the voice was higher-pitched and more demanding than before.

"..A...Asterix..." he panted, forcing himself to say his own name. He carefully opened his eyes, trying to see who was talking to him, but his vision was not itself still. All he saw was a dimly lit area, and a grey blur with large, baby-blue eyes before him, watching his every move.

The figure blinked and looked down at something she held in her hand. She started to squeak gleefully. "I think we might have succeeded here. I'll go tell our krewe leader. He'll be so excited to see you!" Without giving him a chance to ask questions, the blur swiftly moved out of his sight. He heard footsteps, this time running away. He was alone again.

The man, of which he were 100% sure his name was Asterix, sat himself up carefully from, he thinks a bed, while his vision slowly refocused. He winced a little, feeling the skin of his arm being tugged at. He shifted his bleared gaze down at the location, and to his horror, found a long thin worm-like parasite buried deep into his skin. Scared half to death, he yelped and grabbed hold of the attacker, yanking it out immediately. The worm popped loose, making him flinch painfully and throw it away as far as he could, hoping it would hit a wall, but it didn't go far. The creature flopped down on the floor and just laid there, unmoving.

Trembling uncontrollably, he dropped himself back into the bed and pressed his eyes shut. When he had finally calmed down, he realized that something warm was oozing down from his arm. Knowing what it meant, he forced himself to look at the damage he'd done to himself. His blood, at least, he thought it was blood, trickled slowly from the small injury. And either his eyes were deceiving him, or the fluid seemed...different. It was still dark crimson, but somehow it had this odd tint of some silvery hue mixed in it, glistening when he let the dim lights shine on it just right. He looked down at the 'parasite' that had attacked him. Now that his eyes were a little more focused, he started to realize it wasn't alive at all. It wasn't a parasite, but a tube, rather, at least a couple of feet long. Water dripped slowly from its mouth. It appeared to be attached to a box-shaped device that was all but understandable to him. What's going on?

He stared soullessly in front of himself for a good ten minutes. He had so many questions flying in his mind. Who or what was that person just now? And what the heck was that thing attached to him? What did it do? Did it keep him hydrated, maybe? When he finally felt that his vision had sharpened enough, he started looking around. The interior of the small room was blocky, symmetric even. The walls, ceiling and even the floor were cleanly carved from a dark rock. Here and there, a red glowing line crossed the surface, patterning across the floor and lighting the room dimly; it was barely enough to see. He looked down and found himself sitting on a small bed; small even for someone his size, but just big enough. There was nothing else, but a sink in one corner, and a large doorway, appearing to be blocked by a red-stained, glowing glass panel. He looked down again, noting that he still wore the red breeches and black tunic he was familiar with, though the latter had holes in it. His green belt was missing, as well as the sword and scabbard, and his brown gourd he knew so well.

But... From what again?

Wait a minute, yes, he remembers now! He's Asterix; one of the indomitable Gauls! That one small village of Gauls that have resisted the iron fist of Caesar for so many years, thanks to the magic potion brewed by their druid. How could he forget? And how did he get here, and where is 'here'?

He tried hard to remember, but then it all slowly came back to him...

The year is 50 BC. Gaul is entirely occupied by the Romans. Well, not entirely... One small village of indomitable Gauls still holds out against the invaders. And life is not easy for the Roman legionaries who garrison the fortified camps of Totorum, Aquarium, Laudanum and Compendium...

It was just another peaceful day in the village. Fulliautomatix, the blacksmith, was hammering away at his anvil. Unhygienix, the fishmonger, was selling 'fresh' fish imported from Lutetia* again, while his wife Bacteria helped him by packing the customers' purchases. Cacofonix, the bard, sat at the edge of his tree hut, humming a (un)pleasant melody and fine-tuning his lyre, much to the annoyance of the villagers who passed his tree. Mr. and Mrs. Geriatrix were making a lovely stroll through the village together. Their ages differed dramatically, but hey, to each their own, right? Chief Vitalstatistix's wife, Impedimenta, was tending her little garden at the front of their hut. The Chief himself? Probably sleeping with his feet in his foot bath again.

The weather was simply perfect. So warm and filled with blooming fragrances. Some of the villagers would be annoyed by this kind of weather, due to their hay fever kicking in. It was spring, after all. But the blonde Gaul known as Asterix didn't mind. This winter was one of the coldest they'd ever experienced. Some of the villagers had even caught a pretty severe flu. They were bedridden for several weeks. If it hadn't been for the loving care of the rest of the villagers, and the professional handling of their good druid, Getafix, things might not have turned out so well for them. He was glad they all recovered fully in the end.

The short Gaul heaved a slow sigh, munching on the straw of grass he'd picked. He just finished making his rounds through the forest, keeping an eye out for mischief from the Romans. While the villagers were perfectly capable of defending themselves, thanks to Getafix's magic potion (which gave anyone who consumed it super human strength for a short period of time), Asterix was the only warrior of the village, and it was his duty to keep a watchful eye and engage the enemy, or warn his people, when the situation called. But now, everything was fine; he had laid himself on the bench at his own hut, basking in the sun. Yes, it was a beautiful day.

Suddenly, something large moved itself between Asterix and the sun. He frowned a bit, feeling a light chill run over his skin. He opened one eye, beholding the silhouette of a very tall, egg-shaped form.

"Shouldn't you be delivering that menhir, Obelix?" he muttered.

"Yeah, but if I deliver it right now, it'll be too soon," the giant Gaul known as Obelix replied. He stood at six feet and a half; a (very) well-fed character with short, bright-red hair and a mustache. He had one long braid hanging from each side of his head, ending in a little black bowtie. He wore breeches, which had white and light-blue stripes running down vertically, a green belt with golden ornaments, and a pair of leather shoes. He carried an enormous, tall stone, also known as a menhir, on his back. It was nearly twice his own length, and he was keeping it balanced on his back using only his bare hands. The reason he could hold the heavy boulder so easily lied in the fact that he once fell into a cauldron full of magic potion when he was a little boy, and since that moment it had never shown signs of wearing off.

Asterix himself was short for a human. It ran in the family. But compared to Obelix, he was especially small. He could only reach half Obelix's length, and only if one counted the white wings on his helmet. Yet he wasn't the smallest; next to Obelix was their tiniest companion: Dogmatix. He was a white terrier, dotted with black tips on the ears and tail. The animal was so small you could easily fit him in your hand. And when he barked, they would sound like tiny puppy yips.

Asterix smiled and sat up. "Really? I thought delivering a package early was a good thing."

The menhir delivery-man shifted his weight to free one hand and wag a finger. "Oh no, Mister Asterix," he corrected. "Menhirs have to be delivered right on cue. It's delicate and precise work, and I have a reputation to keep!"

Asterix decided to play along. "Is that so?" He ran a hand through his blonde mustache, fiddling with it like he always did when deep in thought. He then glanced up and shot a smile at his friend. "What are you planning to do with the time you can spend then? You didn't come here for no reason, or did you?"

Obelix placed his menhir down carefully, pressing it into the ground lightly so to make sure it would not fall over. "Well," he began, "it's late noon, and lunch is overdue. And when I finished carving this menhir, I went to check my meat stock, but I found that it was empty again."

"So I'm guessing you want to ask me to come along on a hunt?"

"Well, if you're up to it," Obelix smiled back.

"Sure!" The little Gaul jumped up from the bench, dusting his black sleeveless tunic a bit. "I'm always up for that. Nothing like hunting some wild boars to get a good rush out of." As Asterix walked past him, he playfully elbowed Obelix in the side, not that it could hurt the hulk of a Gaul anyway.

Obelix began to lick his lips. Wild boar would surely hit the spot. He immediately followed Asterix to the woods, forgetting about the menhir that stood alone in front of Asterix's hut. Dogmatix trailed behind the two closely.

In the fortified Roman camp Laudanum...

"Avé, Centurion," the Optio called out to Centurion Dolorous as he walked into his tent. There was a grin from ear to ear on his face. The Centurion could not stand that look, because he and his men had been putting up with the neighboring Gauls' abuse and humiliation for almost half a year now.

"Avé," Dolorous replied, disgruntled. He did not look away from his helmet on the table, tapping his finger at it almost casually. "What do you want?"

The Optio piped up, "I've got great news, O Centurion! The relief has arrived!"

Centurion Dolorous couldn't believe what he was hearing! He jumped up from his seat immediately. "At last," he exclaimed. "We can finally get away from these insane Gauls! Tell the legionaries to pack up! We're getting out of here as soon as I've informed the new arrivals properly."

"Yes, Sir!"

The entrée of the new Roman century was no joke. The new Centurion walked proudly at the front, followed by his Optiones, and behind them, an army of eighty legionaries, aligned in rows of four, perfectly synchronized in their march. One could smell the discipline wafting from them. Their armor was new, dent and scratch free, and it shined in the sunlight like an ocean at eve.

The new Centurion bellowed. "HALT!" With a perfectly timed thump of their feet, the army came to a complete still.

Centurion Dolorous walked up to his colleague, raising his hand in a Roman-style army greet. "Avé. Centurion Dolorous reporting."

"Avé," the other shouted back, his face was as stern as a rock, yet he returned the gesture. "Centurion Subordinus! We are here to relieve you from your duty!"

"Yes, yes, that's great." Dolorous muttered. "Just to give you a fair warning, though. Try not to engage into any combat with the Gauls around here. You won't know what you're getting yourself into! They're deranged barbarians. What's more, they are invincible! You can't hope to defeat them, so just lay low and..."

Centurion Subordinus roared with laughter at Dolorous. "HA! Invincible!? That's one I didn't hear before! We came here to fight in glorious battles! To conquer these deranged barbarians! And that's exactly what we'll do, isn't that right, boys?"

The army of legionaries behind him shouted out in a symphonious victory cry. Dolorous sighed. He could almost smell the irony of this déjà vu. This was just like when he first came to the camp, ignorant and unwilling to heed the Centurion's warnings before him. It was obvious these ignoramuses were not going to listen. "Suit yourself. I warned you." he replied dully. At least he could leave this place. Anything would be better than to stay here with the indomitable Gauls! Preferably he would get out of the Roman province, most preferably as far away as possible. Perhaps Caesar will send him to Egypt.

Later that afternoon, after the old century had departed, Centurion Subordinus was already preparing for the oncoming battle. He had even sent a Roman patrol into the forest to gather information about his enemy. He studied every strategy he had, so deep in thought that the Optio behind him had to call him thrice.

"Avé, Centurion. Centurion? Centurion!"

Subordinus suddenly perked up and turned his head sharply. "What!? Can't you see I'm concentrating?"

"Y-yes, but, O Centurion," the Optio uttered, "the patrol has returned."

Subordinus stared at the Optio. "So soon? The village must be closer than I thought." he grinned, getting up from his seat and walking out of the tent to greet the brave soldiers. But what he saw was not what he expected.

"Avé, Centurion..."

The group of six, pummeled legionaries greeted their superior. They were bruised on eyes and limbs, their armor was battered. One of them was missing teeth. Another had to use a big stick as a crutch to limp back to the camp. One of the smaller soldiers poked at a loose tooth, accidently making the thing drop out of his mouth.

"BY JUNO," Centurion Subordinus roared, taken by complete surprise, "What happened!?"

"O Fenturion," the small one answered, "We were ambufhed by Gaulf!"

Subordinus couldn't believe his ears. The Gauls would dare to attack six fully armed legionaries, without thinking of the consequences? They were deranged barbarians, indeed! "WHAT!?" he bellowed, "How many were there?"

"Well," one other legionary with an overbite as obvious as a circus parade spoke up, "There were just two... A little one, and a really big fat one..."

"But they also had a very vicious dog. So it was three, really." another piped up.

"Two miserable Gauls and a dog, against six top-of-the-line Roman legionaries!?" Subordinus cried out, "That's it! We will show these fools who's boss around here. Everybody prepare for a glorious battle! We will raze their village to the ground!"

"But Fir," the little legionary spoke up, "What about uf?"

Subordinus looked at the miserable six. "Get yourself patched at the field hospital." he commanded. "And then join the assault immediately!"

"Yes, Centurion..." the legionaries groaned.

"Two Gauls and a dog... Pathetic!" Subordinus muttered, and he re-entered his tent to fetch his helm and cape.

Meanwhile, outside the village of the Gauls, Asterix and Obelix were just leaving the forest. Their hunt had been a successful one; Obelix had one dead wild boar in each of his arms, and Asterix carried one over his shoulders. It seemed almost too heavy for the short Gaul to carry, but he did so with relative ease. Dogmatix trotted behind them with a shred of green cloth in his mouth.

"We had a good hunt, didn't we, Obelix?" Asterix piped up. He loved the rush he got from hunting wild boars; and it also provided a boost to his appetite.

"Yeah, and we came across some Romans." Obelix said cheerfully, "These were fresh ones too! The old ones were starting to get sloppy and unmotivated. Hardly any fun. We should pay them a welcoming visit!"

Asterix smirked. "Sounds like an idea! But let's eat first. Then we can talk to the others about giving the new arrivals a warm welcome."

But then, a low groan was heard in the sky, and not a second later, the ground began to shake. The two Gauls nearly lost their footing, waiting anxiously for the shaking to stop. It only lasted three seconds, but when it ended, Obelix felt the ground under him sink slightly, as though it were failing under his weight.

After a long moment of silence, Obelix muttered, "What was that, Asterix?"

"I...I'm not sure." the blonde Gaul replied. "I think it was an earthquake. But those shouldn't happen around here."

Obelix looked down at his friend, noting that the smaller Gaul's body was tensed. "Where do they usually happen?"

Asterix didn't respond. He felt very uneasy about what just happened. He was having that foreboding feeling sitting in his gut; the kind that he knew all too well when something bad was going to happen.

"Asterix?"

The small warrior snapped from his trance of unease, and glanced up to Obelix. There was a distinctive look of worry in the big Gaul's face. "Take the boars to my hut. We need to check if everybody's all right," he told to Obelix. And with that, they continued on, with Asterix headed straight for the village to visit their druid first, and Obelix carrying three boars to Asterix's hut.

* Lutetia was a pre-Roman and Roman Gaul forerunner of present-day Paris