Guild Wars 2

So, I’ve been loving this game again since HoT and would love to draw more. Thing is, my creative juice are blocked :C.

What I want is YOU! But not just an ordinary character description. Give me a short story about your character. I love to tell a story through drawing, and I would love to tell YOURS!

what i require

500 word max
Story about your character
a screenshot of your character

Ahh… I hate word counts XD

Anyway, here is a part of my charr’s story, a bit shorter than originally, to fit within the 500 words, but hopefully still understandable

Love Is A Torment

“Well, adolescent age is always harsh, even for us charrs. This particular story I tell rarely and only to exceptional people, so listen carefuly… But! Before I get started, promise me one thing – you won’t repeat it to anyone! Am I being clear? Great! Hmm… Where should I begin? Actually, everything is about Argih – my teacher, or rather mentor. So… he treated me like a daughter, even though I could’ve easily been his sister. But that’s who he was – very mature and, I won’t hide it, really handsome. For a charr, of course. Everyday I was looking at him with more adoration in my eyes… What are you laughing at? You never fell in love? Nevermind. Anyway, I couldn’t stop myself from staring at him. So what, he was 12 years older? I still don’t see anything wrong with that.

Back to the story, yeah, it could be a story of a ‘happily ever after forever’, just… it wasn’t. Argih didn’t look at me like that. And even when I finished my training, he treated me more like a friend. But, like everyone who has ever fallen in love, I was going further into that, ignoring obvious signs that there is no chance.

Anyway, one year passed since the end of my training and Argih wanted to celebrate it. And because he loved riddles and games, that’s how he arranged that. He left me a short note in my personal belongings. He wrote there, ‘Search within the roots of our relationship’. That and his signature. I knew him well, so quickly understood. Of course he meant the ruins near Nolan! There I found another note. And in this way, step by step, I made it to my mentor. He sat in the Hatchery, feeding young devourers. When he saw me, he smiled warmly. It was merely a smile of a friend, but as I’d said, I was blind. He stood up and then he pulled from behind him an extraordinarly beautiful, pinky red flower.

„You finished your training year ago, Lilac…” He said. „Soon you’ll be off to the world… and I wanted you to have some sort of a reminder.” He smiled again. I was staring at the flower, enchanted. I’ve never seen one like that before. „I… thank you.” I muttered, couldn’t come up with anything better, and I delicately took the flower. My mentor hugged me – as a friend – but obviously I misinterpreted it. „Argih.” I said suddenly, in a strange surge of courage. „I wanted to tell you, I mean…” I was floundering in my words. „Yes, Lilac?” I took a deep breath. „I love you.” I said. He moved away from me a bit. Then he gave me a strange gaze, which I can’t interprete to this day, firmly shook his head, turned around and run into the darkness. I was left alone, flower in my hand and tears in my eyes."

Unfathomed.8140:

Ahh… I hate word counts XD

Anyway, here is a part of my charr’s story, a bit shorter than originally, to fit within the 500 words, but hopefully still understandable

Love Is A Torment

“Well, adolescent age is always harsh, even for us charrs. This particular story I tell rarely and only to exceptional people, so listen carefuly… But! Before I get started, promise me one thing – you won’t repeat it to anyone! Am I being clear? Great! Hmm… Where should I begin? Actually, everything is about Argih – my teacher, or rather mentor. So… he treated me like a daughter, even though I could’ve easily been his sister. But that’s who he was – very mature and, I won’t hide it, really handsome. For a charr, of course. Everyday I was looking at him with more adoration in my eyes… What are you laughing at? You never fell in love? Nevermind. Anyway, I couldn’t stop myself from staring at him. So what, he was 12 years older? I still don’t see anything wrong with that.

Back to the story, yeah, it could be a story of a ‘happily ever after forever’, just… it wasn’t. Argih didn’t look at me like that. And even when I finished my training, he treated me more like a friend. But, like everyone who has ever fallen in love, I was going further into that, ignoring obvious signs that there is no chance.

Anyway, one year passed since the end of my training and Argih wanted to celebrate it. And because he loved riddles and games, that’s how he arranged that. He left me a short note in my personal belongings. He wrote there, ‘Search within the roots of our relationship’. That and his signature. I knew him well, so quickly understood. Of course he meant the ruins near Nolan! There I found another note. And in this way, step by step, I made it to my mentor. He sat in the Hatchery, feeding young devourers. When he saw me, he smiled warmly. It was merely a smile of a friend, but as I’d said, I was blind. He stood up and then he pulled from behind him an extraordinarly beautiful, pinky red flower.

„You finished your training year ago, Lilac…” He said. „Soon you’ll be off to the world… and I wanted you to have some sort of a reminder.” He smiled again. I was staring at the flower, enchanted. I’ve never seen one like that before. „I… thank you.” I muttered, couldn’t come up with anything better, and I delicately took the flower. My mentor hugged me – as a friend – but obviously I misinterpreted it. „Argih.” I said suddenly, in a strange surge of courage. „I wanted to tell you, I mean…” I was floundering in my words. „Yes, Lilac?” I took a deep breath. „I love you.” I said. He moved away from me a bit. Then he gave me a strange gaze, which I can’t interprete to this day, firmly shook his head, turned around and run into the darkness. I was left alone, flower in my hand and tears in my eyes."

Ayy I’m so in! I was planning on writing some character stories tonight anyways. This is how my newest (sylvari) character Dalamar meets my Main Dietrich who is the leader of the guild/the rest of the group.
I’ll include both refs of Dietrich and Dalamar.

Dalamar stared through the jungle vines that were his prison. The bodies of several other nightmare courtiers lay in the cage, the jungle already starting to creep into their lifeless forms. He had pushed them as far away as possible, but they were still far to close for comfort. “Why am I here…what am I even doing in this god forsaken place?” Being captured by the Mordrem had put a lot into perspective. Dalamar had been among the many courtiers who had followed Grand Duchess Foalian into this horrible place. He was perhaps among the few to survive. He couldn’t remember why exactly he had turned to the nightmare. Once long ago, he also had a dream. It was fuzzy though, a mix of voices and vague figures. An outstretched hand. It had held nothing truly tangible. No direction or mission. So he had turned away. And had ended up here, locked in a tangle of thorned vines that would bring nothing but his demise. The call of the elder dragon was growing stronger each moment.

He stared out of the small gaps in his prison. Was it night? Day? He knew it had been a long time. His glow was beginning to fade. He was too weak to summon a minion that could perhaps help him escape. There was no hope…

“LIGHT EM UP! Take down the Prisons- take out the Mordrem! Watch each other’s back!”

The voice shook Dalamar down to his very soul. Someone…or a group…was breaking into the camp. He struggled to his knees. He could hear sounds of battle coming from outside. The guards on his pod rushed past, eager to take out the offending intruders.
“Dietrich! Over there….there’s someone…important….” The voice Dalamar heard was wavering, but familiar in a way. It held the same amount of pain his own did however, and he could tell it was another sylvari.

“Right! Ren, Amalthea, on me!” the other voice shouted. The edges of his cage begin to burn. A huge sword hacked in through the side. A charr no doubt, from the heavy footfalls that accompanied it. It almost touched his arm, but a shield of Mesmer magic flowed in, covering him and the other’s bodies.

The cage broke open, light filtering then flooding. He raised an arm to cover his face. He half expected death to be waiting, that the rescue was a but a delusion of a tortured mind.

A sylvari popped into the opening, followed by curious and extremely cute asura. “Another nightmare courtier..” she murmured. Dalamar weakly gazed at them. A taller, imposing figure came up behind them, his features blocked out by the light. “This the one?” The other sylvari nodded. The figure shrugged. “Well, weirder things have happened. We can figure it out later though.”

The man leaned down, icy blue eyes shimmering over a confident smirk. He reached out his hand. “Time to go.”

Dalamar stared up, and for a moment, his dream came back to him in full clarity…The blond man reaching for him, a huge charr warrior standing guard behind him, the other two watching curiously. Then his dream merged back into reality and a wave of realization washed over him.
He reached out and took the offered hand. —-

Divinty’s Reach was a giant ants nest.
Ori has only arrived ten minutes ago and she was already feeling uncomfartable and annoyed.
It was terrible stuffed and the humans were so small, they would be confused with three-year-olds back at home. You had to look carefully to not accidentally step on them or topple over their tiny booths in the market area.
Carefully, trying to avoid steamrolling the citizens of the human city, she made her way to a local pub, hitting her head at the door frame when she stepped in. Disgruntled she looked down on the cute little tables and seats rubbing her aching forehead , then she decided to sit down on the floor instead. She didn’t want get in trouble in the pub and loose this probably not completely terrible source of beer.
Everything had to be handled with care and Ori almost broke the puny stein of beer when it arrived, holding it careful between thumb and index finger and took a sip watching the humans buzzing around her like busy worker bees.
She sighed. It was not even a day after leaving the homely fireplace in the Shiverpeaks and she already felt homesick, dreaming of space to move around, solid people and furniture that could take a friendly beating without falling apart, food that you didn’t need to pay a fortune for and decent sized steins.
“I know that face!” laugh a booming voice behind her and she turned around, looking in the fuzzy face of a Charr that was almost her size, with impressing horns that would look great on the wall next to a fireplace.
She apologized in her mind to the Charr… being a very traditional Norn she mainly thought into two cathegories, “prey” and “Norn”. In the past, if they could find one to hunt, it was considered as something to brag about if you were able to kill a Charr and wear their fur. Their meat tasted terrible though.
The Norn stopped this practice when they had to move south, away from their old homelands and they had to be on friendly terms with other races to survive. Some Norn still inherited old clothing made out of Charr fur though.
“Is this you first time in this city, cub? Feeling a little trapped among the tiny people?” the gray Charr asked and according to the form of the horns and the voice he was a male. He smelled of damp pelt and gun powder.
“Yes, Friend, and I hope for my sanity and this cities’ safety to leave it again as soon as possible. Seems like I’m too tall for this city.” she answers a bit clumsy but as polite as she could manage.
The Charr laughed roaring and Ori fell the pang of sharp claws when he slapped her back.
“I think I can help a homesick girl out…for karma or something.” the Charr motioned her with a feral grin to pay, which she did.
Ori was a strong Norn and a capable hunter and fighter, there was no reason for her to be scared of following the Charr. Even a whole warband couldn’t match a Norn in power.
They left the pub through the backdoor and the Charr, who called himself Mangonel Gearstrip, lead her through a few courtyards (not less cramped with further houses and sheds) until they reached one backyard that was filled by trhe warm light of a big campfire.
At one side there was a giant tree trunk, that was roughly chopped to remind on a counter, with a cheery old Norn. Behind him, in the open door of the cellar, you could see different kinds of barrels. The customers of this makeshift pub where a few Norn, sitting around the fireplace roasting a doe and a group of Charr resting, eating some kind of raw carcass.
Mangonel slapped Oris back and went to the Charrs in high spirits, getting welcomed by his slightly drunk comrades.
Ori made her way to the counter, got a beer and was a lot more happy than before. She sat on one of the Fleeces around the fire, next to one of the Norn who greeted her with a gruff but good-natured winking and a friendly twitch of the corners of his mouth under the remarkeble white blond beard. Someone was singing a heroic epos about Eir Stegalkin and her guild.
Ori got legendary drunk that night.
Perhaps coming to Divinity’s Reach wasn’t that bad start for legend, as it seemed earlier that day.
_____________
Name’s Oreithyia, short Ori.

Awww, I love it! <3 thank you

Getting back to these now. Will have them soon!

You are now my favorite person.

Is it all right if I reserve a spot? The character I would like you to draw is one whose story has yet to be revealed in my writing, and I don’t want to spoil it for any of my readers. If not, then I shall concoct another character and story for whom I hope your pencil shall do justice.

~S.F.