Guild Wars 2

Surely not all of the Sylvari beating up fireflies and turning into fern hounds to play with puppies have dreamed of dragons. Yes it’s canon that the player character has, but why not branch away from that from time to time? (There are certain elements that are a give; far shores, new places, etc.)

Roleplayer or not, it’s fun to develop the characters, so share! What specific thing did your Sylvari dream aside from the general information? What motivates them from their dream?

I’ll go first then:

Ranger – Night cycle
He didn’t have the best of dreams. He dreamed of following a far off light while the rest was darkness. Not a very happy guy and always worried he is slipping into Nightmare.

Guardian – Noon cycle
Dreamed of curing illness and corruption. He’s took this to heart and is a healer that supports those that actively fight the Nightmare Court.

Elementalist – Dusk cycle
Dreamed of fire that didn’t burn him and of great libraries he knew he had to visit. He’s a scholar determined to learn all he can about elemental magic, fire in particular. Most of the time he has his nose in a book.

My Ranger dreamed of far off cities, rolling hills nestled in mountains.

It wasn’t until she got there until she realized that far off city was Divinity’s Reach.

Engineer – Dawn cycle
dreamed of great gardens flying in the sky, with smaller flying machines zipping to and fro between them.

Thief – Dusk Cycle
Dreamed of crows circling over a wheat field. It was daylight, but the sky was so thick with clouds that it could have been night. The wheat twisted in the wind. A well worn path disappeared into the wheat. He could feel that something was in the field, waiting for him.

Engineer – Dawn Cycle
In his dream, he is standing on a beach, looking out an ocean, a quiet cove protected from the surf. It is dawn. The ocean’s waves lap the shore. One by one, an army of clockwork puppets, of all shapes and sizes and designs, emerge from the tree line. They march down the beach, walk out on the water, and then, in unison, they turn around and dance for him.

Engineer – Dawn Cycle
In his dream, he is standing on a beach, looking out an ocean, a quiet cove protected from the surf. It is dawn. The ocean’s waves lap the shore. One by one, an army of clockwork puppets, of all shapes and sizes and designs, emerge from the tree line. They march down the beach, walk out on the water, and then, in unison, they turn around and dance for him.

Best. Dream. Ever.

Guardian- Dawn Cycle
Dreamed of a sword made of wood buried deep within a tree, the handle made of the stem of a rose. Upon touching it he was asked many riddles, until the sword was surrendered unto him. It twisted about him until he became one with the sword, he turned and saw the nightmare court watching him with wary eyes. Lifting the sword, he turned and fought.

My Sylvari warrior is a Valiant like the personal story suggests, but his dream differed greatly from the in-game ‘canon’ itself.

Warrior – Noon Cycle
Dreamed of great cities rising up against the horizon in the noon day sun. One was decorated with flags and its shining towers stood erect and imposing, but on the ground below half-man, half-horse creatures stormed the gates relentlessly. Another city was covered in snow and protected by four great animals, but it too was besieged by icy monstrosities and the gleaming eyes of massive armored men. Another was crafted of iron, with its enormous gears ever turning, and outside a sea of ghosts descended upon it like an unholy tide. Finally, a floating cube hanging in the air. Just below, the cries of the dying are heard as undead beasts swarm across the landscape. And, after all of this, there was simply an ever-present shadow staring at him.

He basically dreamed about the great cities of the world and the threats each of them face. Above it all stands the elder dragons, the ever-present shadow, but his Wyld Hunt, as interpreted from this dream, is that the cities of the world must not become distracted by the threats they face right now. So, his purpose as a Valiant is more than simply fighting Zhaitan and the elder dragons, but more to travel Tyria and find these great cities so that he can end their hardship and turn their attention to the greater threat.

Tandrel, Guardian, Cycle of Dawn.

Her dream put her in a great conflict which all races surrounded her against foes made up of shadow. Death surrounded her, and even those who were closest under a her projected shield died. The faces were vague and blurred, forever strangers. She would be the bulwark against the tides of evil, she would suffer so that others would not. She is an unsung hero, her glory is knowing that she is making the world a better place with each danger she confronts. A figure of a dragon looms in the distance, but not of a direct concern for her. She only knows joy and happiness by seeing it in others, and she walks along a path alone, and those that follow wither and die.

This dream is influenced by the efforts of the Nightmare Court, the experience of war and the horrors it brings have been added into the pool of memories. Memories that were given to Tandrel.

Effectively, she is to be another rank and file soldier sent to fight against the Risen, and much agony and torment await her.

Engineer, born at Dusk – He decided to join the Iron Legion and that the Pale tree can go screw herself!

Guns baby, guns! And grenades, fire, and turrets! Who the hell needs tree-magic when you have a kitten FLAMETHROWER!?

Ranger-Noon Circle

My ranger dreamed of mountains, covered in thick snow. He dreamed of battle roars that reached him all over the battlefields. He dreamed of a ice cold and clingy breath, which soon shall destroy whole races.

My Sylvari dreamed of another Sylvari’s rush of victory at defeating a challenging enemy.

That’s it. It now likes to seek that kind of feeling in its own life.

I always treat in-game storylines that involve no choice (like the tutorials) as non-canon for my characters, and I really wanted to go with a Sylvari who just dreamt some random aspect of their character and otherwise makes their own fate.

Thief-Night cycle

Dreamt of magical, talking ponys preaching love, friendship and peace.

Awoke in a cold sweat and swore to wipe this foul thing from existence >:3

Gordon Treeman: Engineer: Noon cycle
Dreamt of an unusual man telling how much of a great job he did, how he is deserving of a rest, and that he should wake up and smell the ashes.

Enjoys using his wrench toolkit and hates spiders, especially jumping ones, and undead, so zhaitan will HAVE to go

My sylvari dreamt of the phoenix,it dreamt of the butterfly and it dreamt of pure darkness.

The phoenix with it rage and it will that can never be broken.
Yet it one of a kind there is none other it can spend it life with, it will always be alone.

The Butterfly it saw within it dreams was one that was truly beautiful and yet also lonely. All stare at it and admire it, yet no one every saw what it was. Even through it wanted to show it true self, the chaos within it always confuse all those around him and so no one could see through it illusions.

The darkness shows that there is no light in her future, she will fight until she close are eyes for the final time. She will fight alone and she will fight a losing battle, and yet it a battle that must be won. So she will keep going no matter how dark it gets, she will do the things no other can, so that others may stay pure.
She will be the dark hero, that is never known.
Since dark hero’s must never be known about, only those who are pure hero can be look up at and seen in great light. Yet she must be the dark hero, so that the pure hero’s can stay pure and dont have to go through the darkness.

I actually haven’t given these that much thought (my sylvari headcanons revolve around their lives AFTER awakening), so they largely follow the game’s story. However…

Guardian – Dawn cycle:
She dreamt of the Shield of the Moon, and of a man who looked much like Tiachren. That’s what made her so ready to help, and so eager to believe Ysvelta could be saved. However, turns out the sylvari in her dream wasn’t Tiachren at all, but another Valiant who turned up in the Grove not long after the business with Tiach and Ysvelta had been resolved. [The character in question was my friend’s, whom she ended up falling in love with.]
In her dream, she also glimpsed at snowy fields on a moonlit night, warmth of fire that could not burn her, and the vast blue sky stretching over golden fields.

Engineer – Noon cycle:
In his dream, he marveled at the White Stag’s beauty, when a dark shadow appeared and frightened it away. He chased after the stag, through fields and forests, swamp and jungle. He misstepped and fell, headfirst into a lake of krait which he fought off with fire, and when he returned to the surface the shadow was there, calling him “friend”.
The shadow engulfed him, and he was climbing the steps of a high-built city, walked its streets and swam in its waters. He saw faraway lands, great wonders and victories to come – but the shadow still loomed.

Ranger Dusk: which dreams, the one where Caithe and Faolin walk into my room and..er perhaps not that one.
The one where i know there is a lost wolf i must rescue, i am traveling across a huge battle field, there it is just in the distance i can make it this time, then i am hit by a cow.

I’m not going to go through all the junk y’all did to express yourselves. I rolled a sylvari necromancer with nothing in mind but the idea that they were a counter to the dream and more specifically, the Pale Tree. Undeath and plague interested her and that is why she calls flesh minions and employs poisons to get at her enemies. There was a part in-game where you go in disguise to disrupt the nightmare court, but there were options to help the nightmare court. Unfortunately, this did not alter your “personal story” but rather gave you a damaging debuff. Boo! I like my necromancer anyway, even if the personal story is forcing me in a direction that is not that personal in my opinion.

Kusatta – Nightborn Necromancer
“I dreamed of rot and decay. Not in the world, but inside of me. I dreamed of fear, but not fear of my own, but fear of me. I dreamed of a swarm of piranhias, tearing apart a shark.
Now that i am awakened, i know what i dreamed of.
There is a nightmare in all of us, and mine is physical. Sickening and small creatures live inside of me and other sylvari feel this and shy away from me. My body rots away as fast as it can heal. But these will not kill me. I have mastered them in my first days being awake, learned that they eat my rotting body, so it can blossom anew. They are my children, and i am their father.”

I dreamed about some knight and a rat(i think). the thing was that i had to defeat him. this was around level 5-10 -.- or smth

then smth about a dragon and they told me i have to defeat him :B
currently level 24 getting my kitten kicked all day!
pretty hard to play engineer sylvari… first time GW2.

Evaine Dawn, Sylvari Ranger – Cycle of Dusk.
Dreamed of being in the shadows of dragons, undoing their work. She dreamed of calling upon the forces of nature to aid, an animal by her side. She met her Jaguar, Rhiannon, in her dream. Rhiannon guided her in her dream, and in turn Evaine sought to find her feline friend. She seeks to learn what she can about the other races, and work from the shadows while others fight at the front lines.

Lotus Lightblossom, Sylvari Warrior – Cycle of Noon.

I dreamed about two great armies clashing in a barren valley nurturing naught but a single flower under the setting sun. When the dust settled around me, two blades, one black as midnight, the other shining like the sun itself pierced the ground before me. Bore into the base of each blade was an inscription, but I could not make out the words.

There were only the bodies of the fallen to witness the last shimmers of sunlight disappearing from beyond the horizon, and a wounded flower, shedding its final remaining petal as the dream faded and my life began in the world of Tyria. It was there that I finally understood the inscriptions on those two swords:

“All things have a right to grow.”

Sionnagh, Sylvari Engineer – Cycle of Noon.

My sylvari is as every bit the Valiant as the story suggested, but I often feel that in his dreams the world is much wackier and surreal like in Terry Gilliam films or in a place like Discworld. When I click on my elixir gun, I often think that instead of the poison sprayer, he shoots hot liquid sugar all over the bad guys. Do you have any idea how painful it is to have boiling hot sugar throw at you? Its on par with flaming pitch. Sugar is also cheaper to produce then napalm. I often feel like a violent Willy Wonka. In addition, I also selected a body and facial style of sylvari that suggests I wanted him to look as inhuman as possible.

Imaginative solutions for common and uncommon problems! Thinking outside of the box to ensure the safety of all the races of Tyria!

Grun Krieger – Night Cycle

Born into dark times from dark sinister dreams, his mind stands upon the edge of nightmare not entirely eluding madness but not fully grasping the dream that his fellow valiant clutch to so desperately. Hes willing to fill the heroic role required of him but his methods lack the caring for life that other heroes posses and will do almost anything to achieve his goals.

Elementalist – Dusk Cycle

She dreams of splendid vistas, beauty found in deep waters with the whales and dancing on mountains in snow. Stopping to wonder at the leaf, the pole, the dress, the staff – everything is beautiful. Everything in its right place is beautiful. Jumping, climbing, running, springing, she finds a garden of strength in the Asura, flowering might in the Charr, splendid laughter in the Humans and serene wonder in the Sylvari. Every chance is a chance for joy.

The Nightmare Court’s dream is to wrench away the roots of the Sylvari, and she will fight that with every breath she has. The Sylvari are young, and there is time to sprout beyond their roots. The Nightmare Court would destroy those roots before the Sylvari have come to full leaf. She will not see her people wither and die before this premature pruning.

Renee Syl-Thief-Night Cycle

Her dream was longer than most, for she dreamt of The Long Road. This road is one that seems to stretch on forever, and Renee should know for in her dream she traveled this road. She traveled through forests and through deserts. Into towns and cities, in which she met static reflections of people she felt like she had met before. She saw much of the world and did many things as she traveled the winding path. When she did finally reach the end of the road she reflected back on her travels. The adventures that she experienced had been very exciting and fulfilling. Then she awoke and was faced with the fact that her journey had all been a dream, and that there was still a long way to go.

Autumnbright-Ranger-Dawn Cycle

She dreamt of a White Stag, standing tall and proud. She dreamt of her Fern hound, Blossomhowl, her Jaguar, Nightstalk, her Red Moa, Burncry, and her Murrelow, Poisonfang. She dreamt of befriending them, and the amazing places she traveled to to find them. She saw great cities, and traveled through nature. Her pets led her on, helping her through her many struggles. And she saw a sun, rising over a world, born from all the wars and battles, stronger than ever. When she awoke, she saw only Blossomhowl by her side, and realised that her journey was just beginning.

Necro-night cycle
the balance has shifted in the wrong direction, i must maintain the circle of life and death, some must die, so that life may rise from their corpses.

Midiania-Engineer- Dusk cycle:
She dreamt of being surrounded by enemies of all kinds risen, monsters, nightmare court, and countless others. She was huddled in the middle with a small group of others they were all beaten down, muddy and bleeding. When one of the enemies stepped forward through the crowd and began to swing it’s sword she looked up from the ground her face covered in mud. She gave a crooked smile, and flipped a hidden switch in her watch. As the bombs went off all around them turning the enemies to dust; she stood up and shot to the last enemy with a hidden pistol. After the last monster fell she looked up past the flames to the darkening sky and laughed.

Thief-Night Cycle

She dreamed of a all you can eat salad bar and now she roams the Grove looking for victims to satisfy her cannibalistic needs.

My Sylvari dreamed He’d actually wake up and eat the right mushrooms.

My sylvari dreamt of (. )(. )’s.

Desolation. A land cast in shadow. Carrion birds perch in the branches of a forest of twisted whispering woods while red and yellow eyes watch each other from the shadows of thorny brambles.

In the center of a clearing a once mighty oak withers. The fading King of the Forest droops and sags next to a great gnarled tree. The soft and rotten paper of the oak seems to undulate moments before a cloud of locusts burst forth out of it. In the wake of the locusts; grubs, maggots and beetles spill out and feed on the red sapped corpse of the fallen king. The wind goes still in the forest.

Ages pass and in place of the wormy wood of the fallen oak, lay a pile of mulch. Slime and moss cover the heap as it reeks of disease. Finished but unsated, another time of time passes as the worms work their way toward the Great Gnarled Tree. They attack its scarred bark in a feeding frenzy. Crimson sap races down its tough exterior in long rapid paths as they burrow in. The Great Gnarled Tree bends and groans. Twisting and turning, the branches fill the shadowy heavens with the sounds of thunder. From the North the ancient wind; not seen since the Age of Oak, returns with a vengeance. A swarm of locusts is swept away as it tries to shield the worms from its wrath. Blistering and dry, ancient and terrible, wind strikes worm. Shrieks arise as worms and carrion birds and forest creatures wither beneath the gaze of the Gnarled One. Blood runs from orifice in a hard poetic judgment. All that’s left is ash. Swept up by the wind and scattered through branches and thistle.

I took a step closer to tend to the great gnarled trees wounds and found writing. Carved in bark and wood, wreathed in crimson sap were the teachings of Ventari.

I. Live life well and fully, and waste nothing.
II. Do not fear difficulty. Hard ground makes strong roots.
III. The only lasting peace is the peace within your own soul.
IV. All things have a right to grow. The blossom is brother to the weed.
V. Never leave a wrong to ripen into evil or sorrow.
VI. Act with wisdom, but act.
VII. From the smallest blade of grass to the largest mountain, where life goes—so, too, should you.

As I marveled at this, I saw the earth tear open starting at the base of the Gnarled Tree. The trees roots sprang from the ground running northward. Through the whispering forest; twisted trees were cast aside, carrion birds took flight and glowing eyes scrambled to more peaceful underbrush. I looked and behold, the great Gnarled Trees roots were intertwined with an even Greater Pale Tree. The Gnarled Tree thrived in the shadow cast by the great Pale Tree and I understood. In the twisted forest created by worm and locust, only the hard, twisted and thorny would thrive. Only strong roots could grow and only chocking weeds would survive.

Dream of Ashe Tongue, Sylvari necromancer as recorded by Dagonet.

Thanks for making a forum of this – they’re always fun to participate in btw I’m sorry mine’s long – I got carried away writing it. It was too much fun! lol So I have to do two posts )’:

Warrior – Noon Cycle – Female

I am not sure when I became aware of myself, but when I did, I felt a warm breeze brush against my skin and sweep through my hair. The air carried with it the smell of a sea and it made lungs breathe in and crave more. The darkness before began to fade and my eyes, although closed, began to tighten, straining from something above. Some preexisting knowledge told me that it was “sunlight”. Slowly, I opened my eyes. Blinded, I stumbled upward using something firm and jagged as a support. As my hands tightened around the formation, their abstract forms began to slowly show more clarity. Bright hues of pink, blue, and green rushed into my eyes making me feel uneasy for a moment or two. Coral … coral … I thought this word over and over again while staring at it. I’m not sure why, perhaps it was the dizziness one gets after awakening making one do all sorts of crazy things.

Feeling satisfied that it was indeed coral, I lifted a hand to shade my eyes and gazed upward at the noon sky. It was beautiful. I took in another deep breadth of the salty air wondering what this place was. My feet firmly planted themselves in the loose dirt and I broke free of my coral companion. I no longer felt dizzy, and I was glad of that, because a sudden need for adventure gave me a burst of energy. Surveying the land, I took notice of its many ruins. They toppled low and spun up high nearly touching the clouds themselves. The landscape was covered with coral and silvery hills of earthen rock. For some reason, this made me sad. This place … it was weeping. It made me want to cry myself.

“Why do you cry?” A voice called out to me. I turned around looking for this messenger.

“Cry? But I wasn’t –.” Surprised, I touched my cheek feeling something wet and warm crawl down and onto my fingertips. I was crying.

“Come here.” The voice beckoned. And I called out ‘where to’. Although it gave no answer, I did become aware of the formation that was next to me – the very one who’s coral had supported me earlier. I gazed upward at a towering spiral – a tower nearly covered in coral and seaweed. Although noticeably weathered and ancient it still loomed with a formidable presence. The voice called again, and this time, I took notice that it was from above. Looks like I needed to climb in order to find that which beckoned me.

Gradually, I found foot holes and firm placements until I found myself at the summit of the tower. My messenger stood before me. Whatever it was, it was tall and filled with shadows that moved and breathed like fire. Its face was not visible. Bony arms lifted from its side and held out before me a heavy, leather-bound book. I hesitated, not knowing what to do. I was still deciding whether or not to be frightened by this creature. Patiently, the form moved the book closer, gesturing that I indeed take it. I held my breath as I grasped the spine of the book with one hand and placed the other under it. The creature released its hold and I drew it near.

I couldn’t really make out what was on the cover, but that didn’t interest me as what was inside. I flipped open the book and spread my fingers through its yellowed pages. Word after word, page after page, I read the same thing – “Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.” What WAS this? Keeping the book open I looked up at the creature, puzzled. It gestured again behind it where an old, ornate table sat. It was surrounded by many ghostly, transparent figures all with different identities. Some had leaves like me, others were very small, and others yet were very tall with hair covering their whole body. They stared at me as if waiting.

“They need it.” The Shadow said. I assumed it meant the book. Slowly, I walked past the creature and to the table. I was hesitating putting down the book, for their eyes looked hungry with anger, grief, and sorrow, but I made myself give it up. Setting the book down on the table, I stepped back and watched what the apparitions would do next. One after one each of them sat down and wrote the word “Goodbye.”. I sat down on a nearby rock and waited, watching.

After what seemed liked hours the creature approached me and said, “It’s your turn.” Mine? But why did I have to write such a word? Sensing my discomfort it spoke again. “Each of them is gone now, they needed to say ‘goodbye’. Now, it’s your turn.”
I jumped to my feet, a swarm of boiling urgency and anger swelled within my gut.

“NO!” I shouted taking several steps away from the Shadow. It stayed where it was, its faceless form watching me. “I will not say goodbye!” I didn’t know what this was – what was going on? Who were these apparitions? Who was this Shadow? Questions swirled through my mind making me miss sight of the sky turning a violent gray. The air grew and tumbled through the broken walls of the temple.

I had to get out of here – but I didn’t even know where ‘here’ was! How would I escape? I began to panic and frantically look for a way out. My eyes locked onto the desk where the book was. A new figure sat there. Unlike the others, it was whole and complete. Like me, he bore leaves for skin. I couldn’t see his face, for his back was turned to me, but I could see him picking up a pen, ready to write in the book.

“DON’T WRITE IT!” I shouted, trying to scream above the noise of the howling wind. I tried again but it was useless, he couldn’t hear me.

“The Nightmare was too much for him.” The Shadow said. “And now he has to write in the book.” Is that what had happened to the others? Did this ‘Nightmare’ devour them as well? I must have been devoured too, I thought, if I am supposed to write the word as well. I perked up with clenched fists at my side. I wasn’t going to give up. I would save him and we would both escape this place.

“You won’t take us!” I yelled toward the Shadow. It laughed. “Why must we say ‘goodbye’?”

The creature paused for a moment, as if thinking of the right words to say. “For him, it was because he had a Dream but had nothing to sustain and support him through it. For you…” But before it could finish thunder rolled and lightning struck the ground between us.

A dreary spell began to fall upon me and I tried to fight it off, but couldn’t. As I began to drift off into a deep sleep I watched as the world around me began to fold in upon itself and begin disappear.

“Who are you?!” I managed to shout, fighting to stay, but it was no use – I was being pulled away. Before I was taken, I heard the creature say ‘I am Zhaitan’.

End – I’m sorry ; lul if you read all of this you get a gold star!

i liked it. it deserved both +1’s that i gave it

My Sylvari dreamt of Skritt.
Skritt being tortured by the Nightmare Court, Skritt being mutilated by crazed Inquest scientists, Skritt being exterminated by stupid Humans…
She also dreamt of countless shinies. Glittering shinies. Useful ones, pretty ones and potentially dangerous ones. A huge pile of shinies and a couple Skritt decorating their cave with them. She was deeply entranced by the peaceful sight of the Skritt sorting their shinies. Suddenly, the Skritt began to panick. Bandits stormed the cave and took all their shinies.
She dreamt of crying Skritt, broken shinies and a lot of dead bodies.
After her awakening, she decided to spend her life for the Skritts sake. Following that line, my Sylvari will never hurt a single Skritt during all her existance! (Might make an exception for skill challenges)

Dustfinger.9510:

i liked it. it deserved both +1’s that i gave it

Oh, thank you!

Celene the Amaranth – Guardian, Twilight Cycle: Celene dreamed of warfare – personal skill at arms, strategy, tactics and logistics. Battlefields ranging from orderly drills between allied forces to nightmarish conflicts with dozens of different factions all slaughtering each other, fights against foes of every race and species she has since encountered in the waking world, and many she has not. In all these battles, her role was Bodyguard to someone actually calling shots. While she became very adept at gauging the flow of battle, it was never her place to command, except when she was acting rarely as a proxy for her ward.

This persisted until the apex of a peculiar naval campaign. When the ships of her fleet reached the shores of a black sand desert, they were hauled onto the backs of massive centipedes and continued inland in formation, skirmishing with enormous man-like constructs of enchanted stone. She was disoriented, because she had no specific ward to protect in this scenario, which had never happened to her before. She saw a terrible storm, and a crow flying towards it with an iron key clutched in its claws. She intuited that it was vital that the bird reach its destination, and leaped “overboard” to follow it. Sensing vile presences in the winds of the storm, she fashioned a spear from the bones of an ancient leviathan beside the path, and went ahead of him to clear the way. She never saw the faces of any of the monsters in the wind, because the only illumination came from fits of lightning overhead. She spilled a great deal of their blood regardless, but was gravely wounded in the process.

Their path led up a mountain slope, and on the peak they rose above the storm and beheld the stars. It was here that she understood that the crow was a Man, a Human in a silver mask and blue robes, and that the iron key was also an ancient book. He showed her a number of constellations, each of which he referenced with beautifully illustrated pictures in that book, none of which she has found in the skies of the waking world: The Burning Deacon and the Drowning Brute, the Gallows Tree and the Gilded Sepulcher, the Wolf Unbowed and the Lion Grieving, the Abattoir Flower and the Anvil of Words. In the same way she knew that the Man had been the Crow, she knew that he was also the eighth constellation, the Anvil. And understanding this, she perceived that she was herself the Flower. And then, at last, she was aware of the terrible wounds she’d received from the things in the wind. She fell to one knee, understanding the fear of Death for the first time, and as her consciousness faded in the world of the Dream, she awoke beneath the Pale Tree.

The obscurity of these visions led her to the Durmand Priory, where she studied to understand the occult symbolism. There, it was little surprise to her when she was partnered with a Human Elementalist, a Nobleman whose house crest was a Crow carrying an iron key across a field split by lightning. She has not discovered the nature of the other constellations yet, but suspects they will be other companions, and that it is her calling, her Wyld Hunt, to protect them with her life.

Cadfael the Dogwood – Thief, Night Cycle: Cadfael doesn’t remember much about the Dream, but what he recalls was violent, clearly the portion of the Dream tainted by the Nightmare Court. He has no Wyld Hunt. He hears Nightmare’s sweet whispers, but resists – but he was also initially skeptical of Ventari’s teachings, and remained aloof from all Sylvari philosophies, living a life of simple pragmatic self-interest.

He was of particular interest to the Nightmare Court, who tried recruiting him aggressively, until their patience wore thin and they took him captive, burning him alive as an example to other prisoners and a further way to poison the dream. He was rescued by Wardens at the very brink of death, and spent almost a year recovering, during which time he has kept his mind focused from the pain of his body by discussing philosophy with anyone who will indulge him, from visitors of other races to the Mother Tree. He is becoming extremely conversant in the religions and moral philosophies of the world, and is reconsidering his position regarding the Tablet’s teachings. But he still has no Wyld Hunt.

Engineer – Dawn Cycle

This Engineer dreamt of the Nightmare court; he saw their evils, and how they planned to steer young sylvari away from the teachings of Ventari. No normal force can stop the court though; as he saw the battles between the dreamers and courtesans, he saw himself; in full armor, and a weapon he could not identify. Somehow, he knew that this weapon could not be found not created by any normal circumstances. This weapon, would serve him in the efforts to finally put an end the volatile Nightmare Court. He awoke. Gazing forward into the sunrise, he knew his what his wild hunt would be. He would travel the world, learning the techniques of the Engineer, building and constructing weapons, for the sake of protecting the Dream. He will return one day, when he has forged his mighty weapon, and lead the sylvari of Ventari’s teachings to victory over the Nightmare Court.

“In my dream, I saw a forest teeming with plant life. I walked between the trees along a path that seemed to open before me, and as I did, I saw a blight erupting from my footsteps, causing all that I passed to wither and decay. At once, the path ceased to open for me, and I just stood there, frozen. I could not bring myself to turn around at walk out. I could not bear the thought of passing through the scar of destruction and death I had wrought on those trees and shrubs and grasses: my brothers and sisters. A power outside myself compelled me to turn, however, and I saw the path that I had taken spring into shoots of vibrant green out of the litter and bare loam.

A voice then whispered softly in my ear, saying: ‘The blossom is brother to the weed…as is the mold and the mushroom. All are part of the cycle of life and death. So to are you, my child.’"

-Saprophaed, Dusk Cycle Necromancer

(I’m a mushroom)

^Skip your day job, be a writer

Mine dreamed about new maps for WvW, a better looting system for badges and better rewards for the badges.

Ranger – Night – The sun and magma burnt the earth, but one cavern was spared. In that cavern was ten thousand seeds, which grew and bloomed into a world of pale branches.
Necromancer – Night – A black hole vanquished by six stars: one white, one yellow, one bloodred, one blue and two green. Yet from that hole came one small shard of onyx, which grew larger until all the sky was devoid of stars. The onyx was unshakable and absolute, yet one crack began to form in the southern sky.

Raynil, Necromancer.

In his dream, he followed a song of silence through moonlit fields, dark forests and misty mountains. He met all kinds of people, but all just as faceless. He stared down the dangers of the world, unfazed. As his dream begins to fade away, he turns his eyes towards the sky and gazes at the moon longingly. The song stops and he wakes up with a start.