Right, onto the first proper story arc. It's still happening before the game's launch.

Blood and gutters I

Lion's Arch was always teeming with all kinds of people. On the surface it was a well managed system, but Cray knew what lies underneath it. The stench of death only gets stronger as you delve deeper down and before long you end up wading through the gutters, up to your knees in blood and dirt. Hypothetical blood, but before long, there will be blood spilled.

That is just how things went in this shipwreck of a city. Pirates control it, every aspect of it and if someone is breaking their laws it just means that they're not getting a cut.

His mind wondered to the sylvari girl he found dead all those days ago. Killed and left behind a bloody, broken wreck in a side alley. There was no trace of the killer and while he found some clues, such as the obvious fact that it was an elementalist that was the murderer, he did not feel the inclination to follow up. It wasn't his job to hunt down every murderer out there or half of Arch would require killing.

But now he faced a similar dilemma, standing in an old shabby warehouse, in one of the nastier districts of the shipwreck city. Within the big wooden container of sorts he had opened, huddled against the far side were young human women. No... Only young girls. Barely even that.

Their malnourished, abused bodies had a stench of fear and death about them, sticking to what little clothes they had on them. Faces drawn and pale, their eyes cast down in fear of him, a man in leather jerkin, brandishing a sword before them. He tightened the grip on his bloody sword, crimson liquid slowly dripping on the stone floor. Jerkin was bloodied too, his shirt's right sleeve crimson up to elbow. Speck of it got to his face, trailing down his cheek like a glistening red tear.

None of the blood was his own.

Craywin's frown deepened as he took in the sight, his eyes hard and cold. He could just call the guards and tell them the truth. They were on a job, looking for a missing person and have found that not only that girl was kidnapped over the last few weeks, but others too. Following a faint trail, they had managed to pick up rumors about a slave ring, which was confirmed by a corrupt Lionguard yesterday and now here they are.

Almost all kidnappers were killed off now, if this place was their hideout. He presumed they'd get a pat on the back, 'job well done' speech from some guard captain and their paycheck. It was a good, simple outcome of tonight's venture.

Someone was still whimpering nearby, breaths coming in uneven intervals. There was a grunt from a different source and a short, shrill scream that ended up in gurgles. Heavy footsteps sounded on the rotten wooden floor planks, creaking ominously under the charr.

"How long are you going to stand there?" the reprimand shook him out of his thoughts.

Craywin looked to his charr companion as she approached, wiping the blood off her paws, her tail flicking in obvious annoyance. He never fully came to understand her reasons for following him, but right now, he appreciated her company nonetheless. She shot him another one of her looks.

"The job is done, is it not? Why are you still standing there like a scarecrow? "

"I..." he glanced back at the freed prisoners.

"There is one left alive." she noted, pushing him aside so that she can talk with the remaining humans. She had no love for them, but did her part despite that.

"Ashen, get them out of here, to the guards." there was a steel in his voice now, something that almost brought a smirk to her face. Almost.

He turned to the girls, who were now paying attention, realizing that they were not in league with their capturers. Craywin could see glimmers of hope, faint but still there, in their eyes. "Follow the charr, she will show you to freedom. The nightmare is over."

How he loathed himself for lying like that. He honestly doubted that any of them will come unscathed from this.

As Ashen took them out, each of them silent as a grave, he turned to the man his companion pointed out earlier, wiping his sword clean of blood and sheathing it in one fluid motion. Instead, he pulled out a long, curved dagger. The dark blade glinted dangerously in the faint light of the wall-lamps.

Craywin crouched next to the man. It was the leader, the one who Ashen broke in the start of their brief fight. He could see where the knee was shattered, bone sticking out of the flesh and the way right arm was loosely hung.

The man whimpered in pain. Or perhaps fear?He did not know, nor did he care. If it were just a kidnapping and then ransoming people, he could take it. But these bastards were planning on selling those girls to gods know who. He had little mercy for criminals that crossed him, but there was no mercy for slavers in his book.

So he rammed the blade down on the broken knee, hard. A wet, crunching sound could be heard. Man screamed, sputtering promises of gold and other things in exchange for his life, kind of thing a desperate man always says to try and avert his fate. Craywin grabbed his head and slammed it against the wooden wall behind, silencing his voice. Man was quivering wreck, but he knew when to shut up. Stench of blood and piss grew in the silence that followed, lasting mere moments to one man and hours to the other.

"Tell me who hired you and where are the others." Craywin's voice was cold and unforgiving, his eyes gleaming in the half-shadow of the place. The man did not answer at first, glancing at the corpses of his companions strewn around the warehouse instead, as if he still had doubts. Unwilling to let him get distracted, Craywin rammed the dagger again, eliciting another scream. Only then the man spoke, stream of information, more than he needed. Still, he listened to all of it, face set in stone, emotionless and terrifying in the half-shadow of the warehouse.

It didn't take long to find out what he wanted. What followed was short and painless.

Ashen found him outside the warehouse several minutes later, sitting on a crate. Wind was rising up, his coattails swaying slightly, raven black hair falling messily over his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. He was wiping the blood off his dagger, gray eyes distant, but he immediately sprang to his feet when he sensed her presence.

"Come." he invited her, walking past with determination written on his face. "I'll lead the way."