Well, here I find myself again, wondering what the deuce I'm doing. This chapter and the next few I'm planning on focusing a bit on the three main characters introduced in the first chapter concerning their back stories and how they came to be a part of the guild (which still doesn't have a name).
This chapter will be about Wallace, who's a native of Ascalon, a classic medieval themed country. Because I just realized I don't really give descriptions of the characters while writing, I think I'll put a quick Bio of the main characters involved in the chapter.
Again, aside from the original character concepts and ideas, I own nothing of the Guild Wars franchise. Except the games of course. And the art books that came with them. And that cool headset that came with the first one that I think might still work. Eh, you get the idea
Wallace Marker
Country: Ascalon
Occupation: Warrior/Meat Shield
Age: 28
Height/Build: 6'2, muscular
Combat Style: Sword and Shield, specializes in defensive maneuvers
Likes/Dislikes: Peaceful days/Being target practice
Nerith Awrin
Country: Kryta
Occupation: Healer/Part-Time Oracle
Age: 24
Height/Build: 5'6, slender
Combat Style: Restorative magic
Likes/Dislikes: Helping the sick and wounded/Troubled pasts
A quick clash of steel resounded as swords crossed at the gate. A parry, followed by a sharp riposte ended the bandit's life. The steel guardian defending the entrance to the outpost stood fast, awaiting any further opposition. Around his feet lay several raiders, all outclassed by this single warrior. Blood staining the ground around him, the man kicked away the bodies at his feet, providing him a clear area to maneuver in when the next attack came.
Another battle cry in the tree line heralded the next wave. Bringing his shield to bear, and raising his sword back in a defensive stance, the lone defender breathed deep.
"I am Wallace!" he yelled in defiance, "Guardian of the North. To challenge me is to greet Death itself!" He saw a few raiders falter, either knowing of his reputation or seeing the fallen around him. It unfortunately did not deter the majority of them, who continued forward, racing to their demise. Wallace pitied them somewhat, throwing away their lives for an unconscionable goal.
The outpost to Wallace's back was a midway point not far from a populated port city known as Lion's Arch. Located on a coastline, it provided an important link to a vast network of well-traveled land routes and lucrative sea lanes. With this though, piracy and raid attempts were a constant threat. The greed fueled bandits would become inventive from time to time, and on even fewer occasions slightly successful, but Lion's Arch's defense force was widely recognized as a group not to be taken lightly.
Along with a standard garrison, numbering a few hundred strong, the port also boasted a handful of remarkable warriors at its behest. Most were captains of the guard, but four individuals in particular rose to an even higher state of skill and strength. Each was given a respective gate to guard: the West Gate, Sea Gate, East Gate, and North Gate. Each was renown among the trade roads and sea lines for their fighting prowess and technique.
Wallace, Guardian of the North Gate, hacked down another outlaw in a powerful over-head blow, followed shortly by a sudden backhanded shield bash which leveled the raider behind the first. This warrior was different from his fellow comrades because he would usually fight alone.
Against most rabble such as these, he preferred his own stylized show of force, pronounced with deadly ripostes, quick parries, and devastating counters. In single combat, he had yet to meet any man to be his equal, and thus would invite several opponents to attack at once.
Wallace nonetheless had a number of squads on standby should the fight become too one-sided against him, or casters become part of the mix. Constantly planning out his next move in the larger scheme of things, the man did his best to keep himself a step ahead of his opposition.
Raiders fell left and right from the stalwart defender, causing the remaining few to fall back and attempt to regroup. Wiping away the blood from his blade, Wallace looked upward to the top of the look-out post.
"How's it looking from up there?" he called out, hoping to hear some goods news for once in the day.
The soldiers manning the post, with spyglasses in hand, scanned the nearby tree lines and horizon for any signs of enemy activity. Calling back the all clear, Wallace signaled the gate to open and returned to the safety of the outpost.
"Keep your eyes and ears open," he ordered the gate captain. "First sign of any more trouble, you make sure to hold that gate. Though with the beating they just received, things should go by smoothly." With a sharp salute, his subordinate affirmed his orders and began to make preparations.
"Um, sir?" the captain began asking, turning around to face his commander again, "Where exactly are you going?"
Wallace softly chuckled, taking off his helmet and letting the midday breeze cool his face.
"To head to the healer," he responded casually. "Woman would have a fit if I didn't report to her after pulling off one of those stunts." With that, the Guardian of the North began his trip to see the local healer in even strides. Better to get it over with sooner than later he reasoned with himself.
The approach to the healer's house was kept as pristine as it usually was. A small flower bed grew under one of the many front windows, among many various herbs and other medicinal plants. Aside from the occasional cold or minor injury, the home was relatively inactive. Shrugging his shoulders, Wallace knocked twice before letting himself in.
"Nerith?" the warrior called out to the empty home. Figuring that she'd probably be outside at this hour, Wallace walked with a slow gait through the house towards the backyard. To none of his surprise, he caught a glimpse of a robed woman with numerous charms and jewelry sitting in peaceful meditation as he passed by one of the back windows. Reaching the open doorway to the back grove, the guardian lazily leaned against the door post, awaiting the end of the healer's meditation.
A sudden jingling awoke Wallace from nodding off as the healer Nerith arose from her seat amongst her natural grove. Stretching her arms wide as if to welcome the afternoon sun, she casually strolled towards the lone guardian.
"So I take it the gate still holds my dear protector?" Nerith asked sweetly from under a hooded veil. Wallace had learned long ago that even though the miracle worker covered her eyes, she still worked as well as any sighted person he had known. He also learned that the healer could be a notorious flirt. With a flowing grace, Nerith slipped past, making her way to a mortar and pestle sitting atop the counter. Leisurely placing a handful of herbs into the bowl, the healer began to slowly grind them up as she turned to face Wallace again.
"Strong and tall as always," Wallace proudly answered, stepping out of the doorway and into the kitchen.
"And what of the Guardian of the North? Does he still yet stand strong and tall also?" she asked, playing perfectly the part of the naïve. The warrior standing across from her could only chuckle. They had done this exchange how many times to date? The man was honestly beginning to lose track.
"That he does young healer, without harm, not even a scratch," he returned, his a practiced voice of a warrior. Nerith simply cocked her head to the side in curiosity shortly before setting down the mortar and pestle and quickly running up to Wallace.
"No wait!" the guardian let out startled as the healer swiftly reached between the groves of his armor and pressed hard. A groan of pain quickly followed, as Nerith withdrew her hand, the fingertips covered in fresh blood. Regardless of how minor of any wound he suffered, the blind healer could easily locate it in moments.
"Not even a scratch, hm?" she said with a smirk. Wallace could only sigh, again wondering how often this part would happen to. There was always something otherworldly about her ability. It actually unnerved the man somewhat.
"Sit," Nerith commanded, motioning over to an empty chair, "And take off the chest piece and shoulder armor." She turned her back to him and got back to her herbs and what other concoctions she had. Sighing defeat, Wallace did as he was told and began to undo the leather straps holding his plate mail together.
It wasn't long before his upper body was bare and the healer started her work. Through a quick groan and grimace from the painful sting out of the warrior, she applied a light layer of a freshly made paste into the stab wound.
"So how'd this one happen?" Nerith asked, preparing a cloth dressing to cover the wound. Wallace was looking at the floorboards beneath his feet, recalling the strike in detail.
"Was a kid that got through, least he could've been" he began to recall, "First real raid probably, trial by fire training as they call it." The blind woman nodded, beginning to wrap the bandage around the injury.
"I saw his inexperience as he charged up," he continued "His horrid stance, awful footwork, everything in his technique left a lot to be desired. Left me shocked for a moment that they would send someone like him into a raid. It was his eyes though that really got me."
"His eyes?" Nerith questioned, tying off the bandages and clipping away the excess. Wallace moved his shoulder around a bit, testing his room of motion.
"Yeah," the guardian responded. 'His eyes were full of fear. Fear of failure, fear of fighting, fear of me." For the first time that day, Wallace let out a deep sigh. "That's when I faltered for a moment and his blade slipped through my guard."
The healer had moved to a water basin and was cleaning her hands as she listened. It had been some time since she had heard that tone of remorse coming from the warrior.
"I take it he did not last long after?"
"Barely even a heartbeat"
"Well," Nerith began, placing her hands on the wounded shoulder, "I can only hope that his soul finds himself in a better place than where he was." With that, she focused and channeled a bit of healing energy into the wound.
"And that should do it," the healer said, lightly patting the uninjured shoulder. Wallace stood up from his chair and shrugged his arm again. He had always hated how magic healing felt. It would make you fell both too relaxed and too ready at the same time. Donning an extra shirt that he had brought along, the guardian starting packing up his gear.
"So, I take it you'll send the bill to the guard treasurer?" he asked, knowing what her answer would already be.
"Yes yes," Nerith replied, continuing her work with salves and ointments, "Injured in the line of duty and all."
"Well, I'll be off then," Wallace said as he moved for the door. As he got to the front, a yell from the kitchen stopped him for a moment.
"Oh, you've got a letter from a friend on the table, from a Tolin I believe," he heard Nerith shout from the back. Once again, not questioning how she knew who wrote it, he glanced down at the table next to the front door.
Sitting by itself was a battered envelope, showing signs of slight water damage and yellowing at the edges addressed to him. Tearing open the end carefully, Wallace slide the letter out and began to read. It had been a while since he had heard from the old man.
To Wallace
Hope everything is going well for you. I've come to hear that Lion's Arch has been doing well for itself as of late. Imagine you've played a bit of a part in that.
In any case, I'm sending you this letter to ask of your assistance. I've been enlisted by a lord friend of mine in Ascalon to begin training his guard and the local watch. Possibly even move onto several other possible jobs from there, but the details are all a bit unclear at the moment. This will hopefully become a long term offer in the end.
I would like for you to come and help me with this task. I know pay has never been a driving factor for you, but I imagine the experience will be rewarding enough.
I hope to hear a favorable response from you soon.
Your dear friend
Tolin Issen
Wallace reread the letter again to make sure he was clear. Tolin, the man he most admired and looked up to was actually asking him for assistance? He knew well enough that he had become a role model for the rest of the guard, but to actually teach others the ways of combat was something he had never considered. He thought to himself that he would probably not get another chance like this and immediately headed home to write his letter of resignation and prepare for his eventually trip.
Back in kitchen, Nerith hummed softly to herself as she worked, slowly imbuing restorative magic into the medicine she made. A shadow suddenly appeared at the back door, leaning on the outside wall.
"So I take it he'll be heading out soon?" the shadow asked, his voice very nonchalant. The healer simply nodded, focused on channeling her magic. The shadow chuckled a bit to himself.
"He's got no real clue what he's getting himself into does he?" he continued, "Man's got one rough future in store for himself." And with but a change in the wind, the shadow vanished.
"But you already knew that, didn't you prophet?" the breeze managed to whisper before the calming silence. Nerith slowly came to a stop, placing down the salve she had completed. Looking towards the single mirror in the kitchen, she calmly lifted back the hood and wrappings that covered her eyes.
Starring into the mirror, a pair of vibrant violet eyes surrounded in tattoos greeted her. A quick shimmer along the tattoos, and others appeared in the background. Most were undefined grey smoke, but some still had noticeable features. A small child, an old grandfather and a young raider.
The raider in particular had still recognizable facial features. A crooked nose, a pierced brow, and a mixed look of fear and confusion across his face. Nerith turned to the man, who did not seem to notice her, and reached out and lightly brush his arm. A flood of memories and images came into her. She cared not for the majority of them, sifting through to find the most recent, the ones where standing in front and alone was a armored juggernaut bathed in an intimidating aura.
Letting out her own deep sigh for the day, Nerith quietly mused to herself.
"If the past will tell the future shadow, then I hope he is ready"
Guild Wars Corner: The after notes
Wallace: Fights using several melee counter stances. Does little if not directly attacked and borderline helpless against ranged attacks.
Nerith: A Ritiualist (healer/pet master/support), a hybrid class that is capable of healing duties, managing several pets (summoning immobile spirits with special effects/attacks), ranged direct damage, and special weapon spells that have several buffing effects. An uncommon class that garners plenty of respect at endgame.
And that's today boatshow. R&R if you like. May touch up on Nerith at a later date, don't really know at this point. Next 2 chapters will focus on either Lise and Tion. Haven't figured out who I'll do first though.