Chapter 1 - Change is Good
It was the late season of the Scion, 1325AE. It had barely been a month since Zhaitan, the elder dragon of death, faced the Pact's biggest airship head-on and fell. Following a brief appearance for the ceremony at Fort Trinity, the Commander of the Pact left overseeing the festivities to Marshal Trahearne and returned home.
To Divinity's Reach, the capital of the kingdom of Kryta and the last human city left in central Tyria. Its foundation lay atop a cliff, towering over the great valley of Queensdale and from its foundation, the walls that enclosed it reached up by the height of ten buildings, with even more buildings built on top of the walls. It was the composite result of hundreds of years of humans from all over resettling into the city, requiring constant architectural revision to allow building new solid stone buildings upon the previous ones. As a result, the impossibly numerous homes and industrial facilities were built at layers of varying height, reaching further up the closer you got to the outer walls.
At the bottom of this ascent on the north-eastern side of the city lay Salma District, one of the two oldest districts of the currently visible landscape and the one that was home to the Commander himself. Here he returned to celebrate Zhaitan's defeat and the Pact's first victory over an elder dragon. Proof that this union between the three Tyrian orders was capable of achieving feats beyond what each order by themselves could accomplish. He preferred to celebrate it here, as it allowed him to do so in a much less loaded and less strenuous way. Arranging outdoor feasts with friends and neighbors.
For a brief time, he had put away his robes, catalysts and other trinkets. It didn't take the skills of a necromancer to buy food and dress tables. He preferred appearing more as a regular citizen and reveling in the perks of living in a city and not having to travel and fight for his life for extended periods of time. He visited the barber regularly now, keeping his face shaven and his brown hair short. He even showed up in some of the finer attire he had. Gifted to him among others by Lord Faren, a lifelong friend and one of the more frequent attendants to his celebration.
Speak of the devil, someone was knocking on the front door of the Commander's house, and he already knew who it was. The young noble stood in front of the door, full of anticipation. "You're late, old friend. Another morning, another day of celebration. I see you've dressed for the occasion." They were wearing matching outfits, a decorated brown vest over a white long-sleeved shirt, a red sarouel and brown boots.
Mainly because Faren had gifted the Commander an identical set to his own attire and he could hardly refuse to wear it for at least a while. "And yet you've barely woken up. Come on, let's change that. I've arranged for Canthan specialties today. Rice wine straight from the trade harbor of Shing Jea Island and dumplings handmade by my own staff from a Kaineng recipe." The faraway continent of Cantha may have closed its border, but that didn't stop it from trading with visitors on an offshore island.
"Goodness, Faren. I let off my staff for a reason. If you make this any more opulent, the people might think I'm the true king of Kryta."
"I don't see what's wrong about living the part. Come on, the other guests are waiting." He turned around and made his way to the square. The Commander sighed, closed the front door behind him and followed Faren.
The once calm streets of Salma District were lined with tables and benches. The stands of the central square had been removed to make more room for the tables. Large umbrellas and tents shielded the guests from the morning sun, the guests dressed warmly to not let the cooling winds keep them from celebrating. Garlands and lanterns dangled along the sides of all the streets and Skritt walked along, tossing around confetti from a basket.
Humans, guests ranging from local nobles to commoners from all around Divinity's reach gathered to share in the feasts covering the tables. Put together and offered to anyone willing, free of charge by Faren and - so the Commander presumed - with other nobles pitching in. "It's still incredible. Half the city is here for the free meals. How do we pay for all this."
The notorious charmer spun around balancing on one foot. "I thought you knew. We have a benefactor from Lion's Arch sending me piles of gold almost every day, with letters saying to use them for this." The Commander raised an eyebrow at Faren.
"Benefactor? Who?"
"No idea, they never signed the letters. Here's one of them." He pulled out a piece of parchment. As he said, the letter wasn't addressed to the Commander but to Lord Faren. Most of it consisted of congratulatory trivialities, but it did mention a gold delivery and that it was meant to keep celebrations going. The handwriting was awkward, but the Commander couldn't quite tell what about it was.
"Strange. Maybe we should postpone the party until we know more about this."
"Why, who to ask - Cin! He's right here." Cin Fursarai the paper maker was among the guests sitting at the tables. He wasn't known to be a man of manners, but even he kept in line with a modicum of Krytan etiquette.
When his name was called out, he turned his attention to the two approaching nobles. "Yes? Good morning, what seems to be the problem?"
"Could you take a quick look at this?" When they presented him the paper, he squinted at it. "Seems like a high quality make from Lion's Arch. Nothing too unusual about it."
"What about the handwriting?"
"That isn't my craft. But it is his. Can I show it to him?" The Commander nodded. "Herron, over here." He led them down the alley where an older man in plain clothes with grey hair sat patiently at the opposite side of one of the tables. "Our host and guest of honor is interested in what you can say about this handwriting."
They pushed bowls and plates aside to make way for the letter and put it in front of the curious scholar. Herrin pulled a monocle out of his pocket and gave it a closer look. "Sylvari. This is written no doubt by a Sylvari woman. Penned very slowly. She was tense - careful about either what she wrote or how. Why, what in particular did you want to know about it?" For starters, he wanted to know where a Sylvari other than Trahearne was getting these ridiculous amounts of disposable wealth.
Sylvari were creatures from the Maguuma jungle to the south-west. They had the height of humans, with a vaguely human shape and even with human-like facial features. But the first and most obvious difference was that their entire bodies - including their hair and even their clothes - was made of plant fiber and everything else followed from that. They were plants that sprouted from a giant sentient tree.
Everything they built was either made from large plants or grown directly from large plants with magical assistance. And their entire race only came into being very recently. They were concerned only with nature and long-term means to preserve it, they didn't care to amass large amounts of wealth and they hadn't been around long enough to do so, even if they wanted to.
"Is there more to know? What can you tell of who wrote it?"
"Nothing right off the bat. I'd have to take it home so I can reference my sample books."
"Feel free to do so." Faren tipped at the Commander's shoulder and gestured to the front gate. "That's the courier that notifies me of the deliveries. Shall we approach him together?"
"I insist."
Next to the gate connecting Salma District to the rest of Divinity's Reach stood a young man, barely an adult in a brown vest, accompanied by several workers pushing along a cart with a cloth draped over to cover up its contents. "Sir, another delivery. Shall we take it to the usual place?"
"My front door will do. My staff knows what to do."
The courier nodded and instructed the workers to deliver the cart to Lord Faren's house. "And they come with two letters this time." He was about to hand both of them to Faren when he gave them another glance and stopped. "Wait, the other one isn't for you. It's for the Commander of the Pact."
The other noble presented the Commander to the courier. "What quaint happenstance, he stands right before you."
The courier stuttered. "By Balthasar. My apologies, Commander. We hadn't met before."
"It's all right, no need for apologies. May I see this letter?"
"Of course." The letter was unlike the plain one Faren got. It bore the seal of the Ship's Council, the governing body of Lion's Arch. Complete with a red band embedded in the dried wax.
"This looks important." Instead of taking it home, the Commander opened it then and there. It appeared to be an invitation from the Ship's Council, the governing authority of Lion's Arch. It started out with more congratulations on the Pact's victories in Orr and then mentioned an election within the council. Apparently one of the councilors was ambushed by steam creatures on their travels between cities and died in the attack. The letter mentioned the council rethinking their approach to governing Lion's Arch in the wake of seeing how big a threat a single Elder Dragon could pose. It mentioned 'brilliant suggestions' they had received that gave them ideas on what changes to make.
In those last few weeks that the Commander had spent back home celebrating, the council had gone through an entire election for the late councilor's replacement, all in the Commander's absence. And now as part of cementing their new appointment, they were inviting key players in important recent developments to introduce them to their new member one by one.
And the Commander's turn was coming up. He was to appear in the Crow's Nest Tavern as soon as possible. The council was currently meeting there every day for until all those introductions had been made. So the Commander attended the festival for a few more hours to keep up appearances and then returned home. Alone in his several storage house, the Commander fetched and placed everything he planned to bring along on his second double bed.
Even if he was lucky enough to cut his travel time short, dealing with the Zhaitan's hordes had taught him that whenever he was to appear in his capacity as Commander of the Pact, it was best to always be ready for combat just in case enemies suddenly appeared all around him.
So he gathered up his things. First off a green robe and a heavy coat to keep himself warm when out in the field. Then for equipment, he gathered his staff, his dagger, his focus and his horn. Along with the hidden tools of a necromancer like himself: A range of catalysts, trinkets and specific ingredients you had to either look for yourself or buy in seedy places. He kept those as well as some food and water in case of longer journeys in two bags to both his sides each swung over his shoulders.
With everything in one place, he could make sure several times that he hadn't forgotten anything. And when that was done, it was time to head out. The sooner he left, the better. He made his way past all the guests, excused himself when asked to stay for longer and left the district swiftly.
Ever since the Asura expanded the waypoint system - a network of floating cubes able to teleport people across vast distances - and made it more accessible, the asura gates stopped working. Instant travel across far-away distances was for the most part, no longer possible. And it had another downside. Each waypoint only had a limited amount of energy and a heavy cost attached. The more weight they were to transport, the more power it took to do so, and thus the more expensive it became. Same for travelling longer distances.
All the waypoints inside the city didn't have the power to spare to ease the Commander's journey when he passed them by and neither did most of the ones on the way. All he could do was keep traveling along the road through Kryta. Once a day, he spent the night at the next inn he came by. One waypoint was actually charged up enough to help him skip quite a stretch. Leaving him just outside the Ascalonian settlement in Gendarran Fields. The settlement was now wider, new walls had been erected to make room for more housing and six towers were built onto the walls to allow people to scout and fire at incoming enemies. Usually Centaurs.
He couldn't help but pay it a brief visit as there was some commotion. Some human workers were clearing out stands and anything in the way, while others set up several stages with two podia, clearly spaced out and each in the centre of a stage of its own. Out of curiosity, he stopped one of the workers. "Good evening. You seem to be in a rush setting all this up, what is it for?"
The worker shrugged. "Her majesty's arranging for some diplomatic event."
"What kind of event?"
"Who knows. We don't organize it, we just set up the venue."
There was little reason to press them further on this, so the Commander took this as his cue to move onto the local inn and call it a day. Gendarran Fields was Kryta's largest province by a large margin, with rural villages spread across the vast arable land east and west of the Witherflank river and even more on the other shore of Slade's Bay.
Lion's Arch as it was, was beautiful, even at night. The rush to settle upon the ruins of the old city left the stone slabs laid upon them covered in sky high wooden buildings, all fashioned from remnants of ships that had come here for refuge from Zhaitan's attacks. Buildings made of ships, built upon buildings made of ships, built upon buildings made of ships.
While it and Kryta's capital both had issues with accommodating population density, you could clearly see just from its aimless layout, that Lion's Arch was nothing like Divinity's Reach. No central authority had designed this from the top down. It was much more the logical conclusion of being a hub for both seafarers and travelers on land alike. The chaos in how the broken vessels were arranged and the improvised yet accurate way in which windows and doors were cut and built into them was part of the charm and no-one of sound mind saw any reason to change it.
The Commander paid for food and lodging in one of the local inns for commoners. Indulging the generous prices of the locale that the Ship's Council used for its gatherings was for when he was actually supposed to attend. For the time being, he had little mind to spare for anything but wanting to sleep. The journey through half of Kryta, most of which he made by foot, had taken long enough. He didn't want to stand before the council without at least a few hours of rest.
Even after taking ample time resting, he still had hours to spare. So to avoid letting some distraction delay him, he spent it walking around the inner city. Buying an apple or two and watching the many dockworkers, traders and other travellers move around goods.
The fall of Zhaitan was almost like a lynchpin for the peoples of Tyria as a whole. So many people sought to rearrange their business or their way of life. Others suddenly found it in them to marry and women all over Tyria wound up pregnant in the months to come. Some saw it as a sign of better and safer times. Others saw the relentlessness of the risen as a warning for what the other dragons held in store for them. The latter still became active, as they worked to invest in safer assets and move their belongings to more secure locations.
The few strangers that recognized the Commander by his face or clothing, asked him what he thought of the times to come. But what was he supposed to answer? He had no idea. In moments like these, the Commander was glad that while his title and rank had been plastered across the continent, his face had not. Outside of the pact, almost no-one knew who he was.
When it was finally time, he made his way to Crow's Nest Tavern. The entrance was now guarded and the bouncer appeared to recognize him. "Commander, you are early. But everyone else is already inside. Don't let me stop you." He thanked him and entered.
The tavern was well lit. On top of the lanterns hanging along the white walls, the sunlight shone inside through the many windows to its side. It usually had various random guests who were either wealthy or of high standing, but for this occasion, those had been cleared out. Instead, the Captains, the closest thing to a governing body the city had, congregated at a large round table in the middle of the room engaged in a heated discussion until they saw him enter.
The council involved humans, Norn, Asura, Charr, even a Sylvari. Every race that once sailed the seas under the banner of Lion's Arch. "If it isn't the Commander of the Pact!" The first council member greeting him was a Norn, a race of giants hardened by the freezing temperatures of their home in the northern Shiverpeaks. They were the race that most resembled humans, nigh-identical in many respects, but they were twice their height in size and their voices reflected that.
The captain dressed in straps of leather and a spiked steel shoulder plate got up from his seat at the table and approached the Commander to shake his hand. "Magnus Irondawn's the name. I believe you have an idea who the rest of us are."
The Commander introduced himself and so did each of the captains. When they were done, the Commander asked for them to proceed. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you. I am sorry for what happened to the late captain, but I hear you have a new one."
Irondawn nodded and took a few steps further inside. "Ah, yes. That's why we had you over, same with Trahearne and a bunch of others. See, the fight against Zhaitan cost a lot of lives. A lot of mistakes were made, so we figured we had to make a lot of changes to avoid them. We'd like to ease things into those changes, so it's best to tell key players about them one by one."
"Makes sense."
"Luckily, we all by chance came into contact with a two-fold graduate from the Asuran colleges. She had a lot of great ideas to contribute. So we thought who else to take up the late Captain's place?"
Captain Anne Reid, a human woman wearing a green jacket, picked up where Irondawn left off. "Since Lion's Arch seems to be where people of all races meet and cooperate, we realized that this city needs to play a much more central role in managing the continent. And our administrative structure needs to reflect that. What better time to make changes than right after the death of the same flying giant that terrorized this city for so long?"
"And what changes would those be?"
"The old arrangement was born from old ideas. When the council and the city were founded, we were a random mass of people, all with distrust for one another. That was why the balance between the shared power of the council and that of the commodore existed. To prevent any one person or race from leveraging control over everyone else."
"But times change and so must we. Humans, Asura, Norn, Sylvari, Charr, we all need to work together. And so in the name of forging trust between the races, we decided to unite the offices. The council will have more of an advisory position in the future. We'll unite the formerly shared power of the council and that of the commodore in one person. Centralizing all power in Lion's Arch into one single position."
"All right, who did you pick for the job."
"We already had the perfect candidate. Someone whose appointment will best signal to the people that we need to trust one another and work together. A signal that it's time to let old fears go and move forward as a society. So we decided the best choice for the new Head of the Council and Commodore would be someone who was a Sylvari AND a woman." All the captains stepped back and gestured for someone to come forward from further behind. "Commander of the Pact, it is with great pleasure that we give you the new Head Captain and Commodore, the new undisputed leader of Lion's Arch: Scarlet Briar."
The person getting up and forward was, as announced, a Sylvari. Besides her hair-like leaves, she had two distinct red sprouts growing from her head like pigtails and instead of a suit of live plant fiber her people usually dressed in, she wore a red corset with leather straps and black leather trousers enveloped in a leather 'skirt'. It looked like something someone would wear if they couldn't choose between wearing a dress or a trenchcoat and decided to amalgamate both in one.
She was smiling, with an unsettling glare in her eyes. As he inferred that this was usual among the council, the Commander reached out with one hand to offer her a hand shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Scarlet Briar. It's a rather unusual name."
"The real name's Ceara, but I prefer Scarlet." She spoke with a calm, yet somehow very tense tone in her voice.
The Commander picked up on the asuran-looking contraptions on her right arm and his mind connected a few dots. "This 'two-fold graduate' who came up with all those ideas, is that perchance, you?"
Scarlet didn't move much. She did tilt her head, but every move she made was clearly conscious and deliberate. "How well-observed, yes it is."
"So those ideas you came up with, just happened to involve giving you full control of the city?"
"Indeed they did."
"Well that's…convenient."
Her smile widened and she nodded with a noticeable emphasis. "Indeed it is." After she took a moment to observe the Commander, her stance eased up and she closed in on him. "Oh come on, why so stiff? You should be excited. My appointment is just the beginning." She stood next to him, ran one arm around his shoulder and drew her other hand through the air in front of them. "So many more changes to all our lives are yet to come. You have an entire new world to look forward to."
The Commander slowly grabbed the wrist that was holding onto him, lifted it up and left it to drop off to the side so he could step away. "I think you could take it a little slower with those changes."
"Slower? Why slower? We have to spin the wheel of progress! Let it burn."
Besides that last part not making any sense, the Commander didn't like how her eyes flared up when she said it. "Burn?"
Scarlet paused, then put on an awkward laugh. "Oh, sorry. I've gotten much too excited. I mean 'turn'. Let the wheel of progress turn. And you can be a part of this process. You and I can accomplish so many things together."
"Like what? What comes to mind?"
"For a start, I already have one mission for you - if you're interested of course."
"Who would I be to turn down a request from the Head Captain and Commodore of Lion's Arch?"
"That's the spirit. Now, I know you and I have a good friend called Jennah and Jennah has a little surprise treaty set up that she and a certain charr-in-chief are going to sign tomorrow afternoon. I want you to be there and make sure it all goes over smoothly. There might be some naysaying, there might be some discontent, but they don't know what they're saying. They're just afraid of change. Change is good, you need to remind them of that."
"I'll see for myself how much reminding is necessary. What is it about?"
"We're trying to keep that a surprise. You know what humans are like. Present them with an upcoming change and they will try to stop it. Give them a fait accompli and you run into less resistance. So, now it's settled. Off you go, 'Commander'. They'll be at the Ascalon settlement, not far from Lion's Arch. But they won't wait for you. Wouldn't want to be late for the surprise." Scarlet laughed and practically 'danced' her way to the back.
The norn interjected. "Wait, don't let her send you away so abruptly. Since you're a guest here, how about a pint on the house before you go?"
"Some water and food for the journey will do."
"That we can offer as well. Just a moment." The waiter returned to the counter in the back, filled a mug with water and placed it on a tray along with a loaf of bread and a few cooked fish on a stick. He brought the tray to one of the tables close by. "Here you go sir, on the house."
"You have my thanks." He drank up, said goodbye to each council member and then made his way through Lion's Arch to stock up on provisions and then take his leave.
This Scarlet person was downright jumping with joy. But then again, if the Commander had just walked up to Queen Jennah, told her he should be king - and found her agreeing with him, he would have been jumping with joy as well.