Before I invite you to read this chapter, I want to thank all of my readers for being so supportive! This story is now the 2nd most followed, 3rd most favourited, and 11th most reviewed of all Guild Wars stories on FFN. Thank you so much for your support!

Also, thank you xAlalax for another adorbs fanart this time featuring Rhiannon and Seven!

xalalax. deviantart art/Turn-that-frown-upside-down-398443226 (remove spaces for link).

Chapter 12 : Lead Dancers

Darius, Seven, and Rhiannon were given one full day to prepare for their bout in the arena. Many hours were spent showing one another their abilities, planning strategies, and practicing co-operative techniques. Seven found himself the most disadvantaged. He was clever with his use of gadgets, surprises, volatile elixirs, and was a fair shot with his pistol, but he was completely unused to close combat. It had been six years since he had done any training, and though some of his lessons came back to him as he sparred with Darius, he was inferior to any average fighter.

Rhiannon took such observations in stride for him. "Relax," she reassured, "maintain your remoteness and prohibit them from flanking us. We will defend you!"

Darius grumbled his inaudible reservations, but agreed with her nonetheless.

Ears drooping humbly, Seven resigned to his status as back up for his two combat ready companions. He discovered Rhiannon was particularly confident in her skills, though she always insisted on practicing in a separate gym from them. Her explanation was wordy as always, but Seven understood that being a mesmer, her power was astonishment, and if her two companions knew what she planned to do, their countenance would show it, possibly give away a visual cue and betray her plans to their opponents.

More than once, Darius and Seven considered escape, seeing they had free access to weapons now, but they concluded that making enemies of the Lion Guard was not in their best interests, and since they had been allowed use of an armoury, there had to have been securities in place to foil an escape.

The new day came, and the three of them stood in quiet apprehension behind the barred gate to the arena. They watched the current battle with interest, but as they watched it come to a close, they felt uneasy. The vanquished and victorious were escorted off, boasting serious contusions, causing the three to doubt the promise of the protective wards. Furthermore, the fighting skill of the teams showed experience and strategy, much higher than they had formed. Even the ever confident Rhiannon, had a slight frown on her face and lost her verbacious glee.

The pause between matches passed, the bets collected, and the gate before them opened. They stepped out into the arena, clad in mostly their own clothes, but their guard insisted on them wearing grey-blue shirts, to give them a look of uniformity so the crowd could tell the teams apart.

A magnified, tenor voice boomed over the arena, "We have a treat for you, you bloodthirsty lot! Are you ready to see a show!?"

The crowd cried out in an eager, but not overly loud, "Yes!"

"Well, we have a treat for you today. From the northern mountains, the rising champions, Bain!"

The crowd responded much louder. Into the arena walked five figures.

Darius' hackles rose, "Wait… why are there five?!" he exclaimed, glaring at the norn guard standing behind the gate.

The norn shrugged, "Didn't you say you grew up here? We never claim every match to be a fair one."

Seven's stomach went cold as he strategized, trying to figure out how best he could be affective against the odds. A cool hand rested on his arm. He turned his head and locked gaze with Rhiannon.

She smiled warmly at him. "I will level the probabilities," she said, rubbing her hand over his arm few times.

Somehow, her touch eased his worries and allowed him to think clearly. They had been assuming an even three on three, a grave mistake. But greater numbers could be taken advantage of, particularly with a mesmer on their team. But that also meant that the two charr would have to place their faith in the taller than average twigg.

Darius grunted in agreement with her. He had been up against greater odds before. He started doing the math in his head. Seven only amounted to half an ally at most. Judging by Rhiannon's confidence, and how unpredictable mesmers could be, she would probably make up for Seven's shortcoming. And then there was himself, the Sootcatcher. He was not nearly as fast a shadow-stepper as Inna, but unlike her, he had stamina and martial skill which he had not had matched recently. He was going to have to count as at least three people to make for a fair fight. The key to victory was reacting, and taking full benefit from the sylvari's strategy, she would somehow be their saviour. In that moment he realised her brilliance in keeping her skill a secret. It forced him to keep his mind open, not looking for a specific cue which would distract him.

The pink-top knew much more about fighting than she was letting on. How intriguing, he thought. If they won, he decided he was going to coax whatever knowledge he could out of her. Perhaps the Foundation could use her?

Further reflection was cut short as the applause fell quiet and the speaker introduced them, "And over here, our newcomers,"

They entered, eliciting a silent curiosity from the crowd, scattered amongst the voices were a few humoured coughs and smattering of polite claps.

"The Lead Dancers!"

Darius and Seven looked at each other to confirm that they heard the atrocious name right.

"They might as well call us the Twirling Turnips." Seven snapped quietly. The crowds returned a bout of chuckles as they heard his magically amplified complaint echo through the arena. He smacked his paw to his brow in exasperation.

Two spectators, a norn and human who sat just above the arena sands spoke noisily to one other. "Are you sure those little guys are charr? They are tiny!"

"Maybe they are females?"

"They must be grawl! Haha!"

"How did a pretty twig like her join up with a couple of grawl?" the human added, gesturing at Rhiannon.

Darius grit his fangs together. He heard a clicking sound and looked over at Seven who was tapping his claws against his pistol, a dangerous glint in his eye. I like his inner ferocity, what he lacks in martial skill he has in spirit and in technical smarts. Krasst could employ him as a lab assistant… or Vyuun, yes he and Vyuun would get along famously. He continued on a mental tangent about the cheerful asura, remembering the many humorous events surrounding hi,.

Rhiannon was affected differently by the mocking laughter. She seemed to relish in the attention. As far as she was concerned, every eye was on her, and she felt glorious. Her face glowed in interest as she looked at their opponents. Two charr in heavy armour with monstrous weapons, a norn male and female, each wearing revealing leather clothes, and a… She blinked.

She whispered something so inaudible even the sharp ears of her companions could barely hear it.

"Is something the matter?" Darius asked, thinking she had sneezed or coughed, worried a sickness might throw his battle predictions off.

"Kwashingfixleslumpfisgishmnar!" she exclaimed excitedly, stumbling over her words.

"What?"

"It's… it's a QUAGGAN! A genuine, adorable, round quaggan!"

Of course, her squealing was amplified and the crowd chuckled at her antics, and then roared at the object of her affection's reaction. The quaggan fighter bellowed back at her, "Oooo, you speak mocking Quaggan, flower-top, woo!" He then spun his trident in what was meant to be a ferocious manner, as he conjured water about him.

Rhiannon clapped at the show, her chuckling laughter causing the audience to smile agreeably her way.

Darius sighed as quietly as he could to avoid being amplified. Am I the only reliable member of this team? He looked at the quaggan that had changed his comrade into a silly sprout. His bluish skin was riddled with scars and discolorations. What's the big deal? Even I'm cuter than that lump of hide!

"Let the fight begin!"

Before the declaration had finished echoing, the "Lead Dancers" were dodging volleys of ice shards from the irate quaggan whose face had turned a frightful red hue. Darius avoided the projectiles easily, and glanced at his allies. Rhiannon, like himself, seemed more than capable of evading the projectiles, while keeping an eye on the rapidly approaching norns and charr.

Seven seemed to be the only one struggling, but once he grew accustomed to his shield, he even set about shooting back with his pistol, shattering the ice projectiles before they reached him.

He's going to have to do better than that, but it's a start, Darius thought as he closed the distance between himself and team Bain, all the while evading the attacks with ease. In one swift movement, he tore off his sleeveless overcoat revealing his bare chest which had a white V of fur over his sternum and another below his naval. Over both shoulders he wore leather straps, crisscrossing his chest and back, covered in row upon row of small sheathed knives. A bloodthirsty cheer erupted from portions of the audience, in approval of his nonverbal statement that he meant business. There was also a roar cat-calls from the audience at his sudden disrobing, and he resisted the temptation to check if any of them happened to be attractive females.

Without any flourish or cocky showmanship, he drew five knives between his fingers and cast them. It was the first retaliation, and the opposing team was cautious, deflecting and dodging the projectiles, wary of enchantments or sleight of hand.

"Tiny blades from a tiny charr!" the norns taunted in unison.

Darius did not even try to conceal the hand motion, purposefully alerting his opponents that he was about to shadow step. He vanished then reappeared behind the norn huntress.

She twirled and attacked with her sword, getting whoops and hollars from a group of inebriated norn, and a few humans, who enjoyed seeing more intriguing angles of the scantily clad fighter.

Charr and norn began their dangerous dance. Darius used his comparative lack of height to his advantage, constantly forcing the norness to defend her core and allowing him to scramble beneath her swipes, all the while pushing her back. The male norn joined into dance with his greatsword. To their surprise, the small charr's paws left the ground as he twirled, spun, flipped, and parried, jumping off of limbs and blades alike. Then with a flick he sent a knife into each of their shoulders.

They ignored the small wounds, seeing them as nothing more than an irritant. The two synced their movements, and prepared an unavoidable assault. But like statues, they froze, surprised exclamations escaping their lips as they wondered why they could no longer move. Looking down, they saw the tiny knives, sticking out of their sides, thighs, and abdomen. They dropped their weapons, overcome by the numbing venoms and toxins which coated the blades.

Darius smiled. "I think even your numbed minds now understand why I use "tiny blades.""

The two northern fighters collapsed onto the sands, unable to even curse at his underhanded tactics.

The huge, reddish charr spun in a half circle, slamming his hammer into Seven's shield. Though he had blocked the blow, the much smaller feline failed to stop the inertia, which reverberated through his skeleton and sent him flying some ten metres until he smashed into the wooded arena wall, cracking the boards on impact.

If it was not for the wards which he discovered did in fact exist, he would have been knocked unconscious or worse. Even the damage to the wall was mostly produced by the ward releasing the kinetic energy from his body. As it was, he lost all strength to his legs, and he sank to the sand, while the red-fur approached, armour dented and cracked from the six bullets Seven had fired, which the wards of arena prevented them from doing serious damage.

"Get up!" Seven ordered himself, "Get up you useless lump!" He succeeding in bringing one of his legs beneath him, but found himself stuck. He closed his eyes, what he saw reminded him of his goal.

Orla…

His right paw dove into his shirt and withdrew a vial. "You like to smash things, eh?" he roared at the approaching opponent. He yanked the cork from the bottle and threw it.

The charr raised his hammer to knock it aside, but as soon as he did, a brilliant white flash blinded him as the contents of the vial combusted in the air. With all his might, Seven thrust himself forward and activated the device he strapped to his chest behind his coat. A steel plate burst out and struck the disoriented warrior on his hammer-wielding shoulder. A loud snap sounded as his arm disjointed.

"I can smash too!" Seven declared.

The warrior roared in pain and anger and dropped his hammer, then responded with a left hook. The next thing Seven knew, he was flat on his back, staring in a daze at the high canvas ceiling, and thinking how very unbalanced the wards were against firearms.

Four Rhiannons dashed about the arena, fighting, blinking, vanishing, reappearing, and shattering, much to the ire of the quaggan hydromancer, who was nearing exhaustion. The two charr, one of whom was only using a one handed mace after his brief exchange with Seven, attempted to gang up on the nimble shadowstepper, but were continually being harried by duel bladed clones of the verbose, pink-topped menace.

Rhiannon spotted Darius' cast aside coat and noticed how he was trying to lead the charr towards it. She sent two clones their way to assist Darius, then turned on the quaggan.

"Now listen here, amphibious one, I'm quite finished with this entire hullabaloo. So don't be a bookah and just resign!"

The quaggan glared at her. The normally passive features of his rotund race were absent, replaced by a reddish face and hordes of razor sharp teeth jutting outwards.

Rhiannon took a step back, but retorted. "Oh, I've seen all that bef-!"

Her words were cut off by the ground shifting beneath her. A wave of heat struck her side and she realised the quaggan created a geyser beneath her feet. She tried to escape, but waves of steam struck her, scalding her tender bark and leaves. She dove and rolled in the dirt, biting her lips to keep from screaming out from the pain. Ignoring her injuries she rose. She cast aside her pair of asura swords and retrieved a silver rod with a crescent shaped hook on one end. She flicked her hand and the rod unfolded revealing a long staff which she twirled into a defensive posture.

She glared back at the ferocious quaggan. A violet glow burst from the staffs tip. Before he knew anything else, the quaggan was engulfed in a storm of chaos magic. False sensations of burning, nausea, terror, bleeding, electrocution, drowning, and a host of other deaths overwhelmed his senses. The quaggan fell forward, exhausted.

Rhiannon's face twisted with concern. Her mesmeric attack was hardly at all blocked by the wards. Had this been a real battle, the quaggan would have defeated her easily, but it seemed the wards favoured mesmers because a mesmer's harm was mostly mental, thus not protected against by normal wards, which were obviously designed to stop serious physical harm. Her gut churned with regret for not holding back in her moment of fury, but more pressing issues were at hand.

She resumed focus on the two charr which attacked mercilessly at the much smaller Darius, but what the dark, partially disrobed charr lacked in size and strength, he made up for with agility, speed, and surprise. As Rhiannon approached to lend a hand, she made two observations. First, the larger, red charr seemed to be favouring his shoulder, she had been too focused on maintaining her illusions to notice when he had been injured. Second, the slightly smaller brown charr was holding back, hiding some trump card, and deliberately trying to lure Darius in a different direction.

She whispered a mantra and her eyes rolled back in their sockets as she summoned a crackling ball of chaos magic into her hand. The magical ball fluttered from her hand to her staff which she aimed towards the red charr, launching the chaotic glow. The strike rang true on her target's broad back, illusionary butterflies scattering about him, then the chaos regrouped and bounced between her two enemies, casting confusing images between them and then striking Darius, but instead of confusing him, it brought him clarity. He had already known that one of the charr was holding back something, but now he knew what because of a well-placed thought which transferred through the sylvari's chaotic ricochet.

Along with the discovery, he also received Rhiannon's voice, ringing in his ears. "Use your snare, even though it will be unsuccessful."

Darius vanished.

His cast aside jacket rose from the ground, its owner materialising within amidst swirls of shadow magic. From his sleeves emerged his paws wielding twin pistols. He roared as he took aim and fired a volley.

The two charr moved in vain, for they could not be faster than bullets, but a flash of light burst between the still standing combatants. With no time to think Darius shadow stepped as his ricocheted bullets struck zipped through the shadowy wisps he left behind.

A collective gasp echoed through the audience as everyone gaped at the projectile proof barrier the brown charr had summoned. The announcer broke the stunned silence, "Well citizens, I think I've seen it all! Grindik Nametaker has been a guardian in disguise these past several months! My mind is blown!"

Grindik roared at Darius, "You will pay dearly for that dirty trick!"

Darius smirked. "Oh, so I caught you off guard did you? Some fighters feel insulted when they realise they were being coddled."

A fire burned in Nametaker's eyes as his hands became engulfed in blue flames and he drew a sword and enchanted torch. "I was going to use this power against the best, so consider the coming agony an honour!" he seethed. The charr guardian raised his sword towards the ground and thrust down.

The arena sands rippled out, and an uneasy feeling clenched Darius' gut.

"Look out!" Rhiannon screamed.

The ground beneath Darius erupted.

Well that escalated!

Plotwise, this chapter focuses on the abilities of all the characters and gives a baseline from which they will grow. It does distract from the main plot of the story, but I feel in the long run it's going to be meaningful when people look back on where these characters were, and where they will be in the future.

For those of you that read Edge of Destiny, you now know how Dance of Lead the title originated. The Lead Dancers' origin does homage Destiny's Edge however from there on out, the story is going to take some drastic turns. This story is my love letter to Tyria, in both the games and the books, so I hope you continue to enjoy.

Next week will bring some surprises, and a return to the plot, plus another *drastic mood shift*, so look forward to it as I frantically write it!