Guild Wars 2

This is purely for fun and there is no reward at the moment. However, if I am particularly impressed I may give that person a bonus.

This will run until midnight of Nov. 20th Eastern Time (meaning, after 23:59 of the 19th, this ends). The word minimum is 500 and the cap is 1500.

Prompt:
You are the first of your team to enter the Ascalon Catacombs and decide to explore. You hear voices ahead of you, but they are indistinct. Deciding to turn back and wait for your team you attempt to leave, but trigger a trap on the floor. What happens next?

Pain. Agonizing, all-encompassing, obliterating conscious thought as I fall backward down the spiraling flight of ancient steps that undoubtedly lead to my mortal end. The only feeling of which I am aware is that of the rough wooden stakes lancing through me like white hot knives. I can feel them protruding sharply out of my legs and torso, and as I tumble down this seemingly endless staircase into the depths of hell, they are driven ever deeper into my ruined body. Darkness obscures all, and even the fiery torment of physical pain fades momentarily into nothingness.

Upon regaining consciousness, I find myself immediately aware of two things: the dull, throbbing pain present throughout the entire lower half of my body, and the intense blue glare assaulting my closed eyelids. My wasted eyes flicker open, and my breath catches in my chest, all thoughts of pain and exhaustion temporarily banished and replaced by those of abject terror. I am surrounded on all sides by men and women, though I have never seen their like all my time in Tyria. They shimmer with an iridescent blue light, as ethereal as ghosts. Ghosts? The legends told that ghosts now inhabited the ruins of Ascalon, forever doomed to defend that which they could not bear to lose. I had never believed the stories, foolishly claiming that looting the pillaged wasteland would be as simple as arriving on its forgotten doorstep. My companions would have undoubtedly fled the minute I sprung the spike trap, willingly trading their dignity for the precious lives that they hold so dear. It would be nice to live a little longer, but alas, it would appear my time is drawing to a close.

I try feebly to move my legs, but the spike trap has worked with deadly efficiency. Even if I were to somehow survive this horrific ordeal, I shall never walk again. Perhaps Grenth will grant me that small kindness in the Underworld. I am faintly aware of the whispering coming from the ghostly apparitions, the sound swirling around the chamber and reverberating off the walls, menacing me with its promise of death. The voices in the whispers speak of the hated Charr invaders, and of Ascalon’s courageous vigilance against their blight. They tell the story of the Searing, a great cataclysm brought upon the kingdom of Ascalon by the Charr in days long past, and of the atrocities wrought upon the innocent at Rin and Drascir. They weave a tale of a nation too weak to achieve victory, yet too proud to ever admit defeat. The lament is both sorrowful and profound, and tears well in my eyes despite my predicament. The innocent of Ascalon did not deserve to be cursed so, and yet their fate at the hands of the Charr would have had them fare no better.

They speak to me directly now. Invader they call me. Charr filth. A blight upon the land, and plague that must be eradicated. The sorcerer king’s curse has poisoned their minds against all mortal beings, and they are convinced of my unwavering guilt. I will not fight them. I cannot. I’m done with this life; I did what I could with it, and I’ll have to settle for that.

The moment has come. I can hear them screaming now, their frenzied shouts and demonic yells demanding my removal from this world. Such hatred, such visceral enmity. Their ghostly executioner approaches, an emissary of a cursed people bearing a message of certain death. He wields an enormous, fiendishly wicked looking axe that glows with that same ethereal blue light. I close my eyes, ready for the blow, ready to be removed from Tyria and a plethora of deeds left undone.

My death is not painful. The last feeble dregs of life flee from my already depleted body long before the pain has a chance to manifest. All I feel before that moment of sweet release is an intense cold at my throat. It seeps beneath my flesh, penetrating deep into my being and pulling me down into the depths of the Underworld. It is done.

Word Count: 686

Hope you enjoyed, would love to see your own response to the prompt Calliope.

Oh! Challenging me to write on my own prompt! Very well then. QQ! You killed your character!

Yes my nameless, gender ambiguous, nondescript character has departed the land of the living. I was considering continuing the story in the Underworld, but decided to put a cap on it early.

Well, that was fun. Put this together during the pre-Teq wait and the following few world bosses. Definitely not one of my best (to put it mildly), but I think it’s a fair result given the time, relative inattention, and complete lack of editing. And that it’s primarily dialogue. Oh, how I hate dialogue.

“Really, Rel? You’re in here for all of thirty seconds, and you already sprung a trap.”
Throwing her hands up in the air in protest, Rel said, “Hey, it’s not my fault. It just came down out of nowhere.”
A heavy iron portcullis, rusted through with age, but still a formidable barrier, stood between the two.
“Yes, traps tend to be like that,” Era said with a flat expression. “What were you doing running ahead like that anyways?”
“I could hear voices ahead.”
With heavily lidded eyes closed to slits, Era glared at her companion. “We’re entering a maze of twisty little passages, all alike. Every. Sound. Echoes.” Punctuating the point, her last three words resounded in the tunnels, shaking dust from the aged masonry. “See the dust on the walls, the sand, the lack of footprints? Nobody’s been here in years.”
Rel kicked a pebble in embarrassment and watched it skitter down the tunnel, leaving a sinuous trail in its wake.
“Hold,” she said, her fingers brushing lightly along the haft of her axe. “No footprints, but graveling spoor.”
Era shook her head. “No surprise there. Ascalon is crawling with ghosts. What do you think happens to a ghost after they get drained of their essence? I mean, normally, they come back in a few days after we, er, kill them.”
“I don’t know, they come back in a few days?” answered Rel distractedly.
Pause.
“Hey, stop theorizing and get me out of here,” she hissed, throwing a reproachful glance over her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, they only eat spiritual essence.”
“And I’d rather not have that extracted before I’m dead.”
“So it’s okay after you die.”
“No, it isn’t!”
“Picky, aren’t you.”
The gate screeched loudly as a sharp metal edge belonging to an axe swung by a frustrated Rel scraped across its surface, leaving a gleaming streak of clean metal.
“That was excessive,” observed Era coolly, “and if your concentration is lax enough to dull your blade like that, that means you know as well as I that you’re in no real danger.”
Standing with her back against the obstruction, Rel resumed standing guard with a slightly petulant air about her. “Fine,” she groused, “just hurry it up back there.”
“Tut. You can’t rush good work,” said Era, waggling a scolding finger at Rel’s back. “Especially when it comes to explosives.”
“The damp is making my nose twitchy.”
“Good. Maybe it’ll smell something before you do. Okay, here you go.”
A thin metallic spike with a blue lead poked through a gap between the bars.
“Jab that into the wall at about chest height. Into a crack, that is.”
Bringing it in for closer look, Rel wrinkled her nose in disgust. “It smells like magmacyte. This isn’t your design, is it?”
“Platt’s. A bigger boom seemed—”
“Wait,” Rel interjected, eying the node suspiciously, “Isn’t Platt red-blue colorblind?”
“No, no, he’s just absentminded. The demonstration at Camp Resolve was a fluke.”
Era shifted her weight to her other foot. After several seconds, she shifted it back. “Well, I hope,” she added.
Their eyes met through an awkward silence, interrupted by a portcullis.
“Okaaay,” announced Era loudly, causing Rel to startle, “just shove it in, and hit the floor on one.”
“Wait—”
“One.”

——

“Well, this isn’t quite what I expected to happen,” said Rel, leaning against the wall in the fetal position.
“It’s not surprising. Most of the masonry on our way down was already crumbling, if not outright collapsed. Everything metal, like the fences, spears, gates, and even the machinery that controls it, was still intact.” She flicked a claw against the metal. “Listen to that. Clear as a tuning fork.” Her ear twitched slightly. “Hrmph. Clearer than mine, even. Must get a better one.”
“Their ironwork lasted three hundred years while their masonry crumbled into rubble?” asked Rel incredulously.
Shrugging apathetically, Era surveyed the remains of the tunnel. “See for yourself. Gate’s intact while a little kaboom managed to knock out the walls around it.”
Rel crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. “A flawless rescue,” she said with transcendent sincerity, “if you didn’t take down the ceilings too.”

Word Count: 691

I will post my own story a little later. ^^; I am having a couple of friends give me feedback on it before I release it to you.

As a reminder… today is the last day to post a story!

Karayan stared flatly at the spikes in front of him. They had just missed impaling him. Sap ran down his arm and dripped onto the floor. He twisted his arm to see a gash running from his wrist to his elbow. A light sigh escaped his lips.

“That was not nice.” He spoke into the gloom of the catacombs.

A drop of water echoed off the walls. He rubbed the sap from his arm. It hurt, but he would be able to focus on healing it later. With traps in front of him he would have to keep exploring. He leaned around the corner to peer down the next corridor. Nothing.

The tall Sylvari glanced down to check for his preferred weapons. The others floated in the ether, awaiting his call. He was ready for whatever might lay ahead of him. His friends would never let him live it down if they had to come rescue him. Except her. He paused. She never held anything over his head.

You get distracted when you think of her, Sprout. Karayan ground his teeth, recalling Aeoldyn’s mocking words. You need to focus.

“I am focused.” He muttered as he edged along the corridor.

A soft hiss halted him. Only one creature in the catacombs made that sound. Karayan pulled his staff free from his back. Gravelings were fiercely territorial and often accompanied by several other gravelings. A glance behind him assured him that nothing had crept up. Surely his team would be arriving soon. He would get the job done without them if they took too much longer.

Karayan took a breath to focus his mind. Six gravelings, two of which were very large. He rolled his shoulders. He could do this. They were just gravelings.

Never underestimate an opponent. He smiled at the memory of his first lessons with Vinesta.

Maybe he would just play it safe then. No sense getting into a fight he could just as easily avoid. There was no telling what lay ahead. He may need his strength for a more difficult fight. The air around him shimmered briefly and then he was invisible, the light refracting around his body. Karayan was careful not to trip any traps as he passed the gravelings.

Ahead, the tunnel dipped and curved. The drake heads along the wall surprised him by spitting flame. Dreams and Nightmares! Who were these people to need so many traps? He wondered as he passed the now quiet fire spouts. He shook his head. He was here to retrieve an artifact.

Without realizing it, Karayan stepped into a large, open room. He paused only a few paces in. An eerie ghostly light illuminated the room with a soft blue luminescence. He looked around. No gravelings. No ghosts either. He took a step forward. A ghost popped up from the floor in front of him.

“A Charr invader? Here? Brothers! Sisters! To arms!” The ghost cried and pointed at him.

Three more ghosts popped up from the floor. They were not the only things coming out of the ground. Nearby a half crumbled wall shifted, shuddered, and then exploded outwards. A large graveling peered around the room, sniffing noisily. It shrieked and charged at the ghosts. The ghosts turned from Karayan to the new threat.

The mesmer renewed the cloaking spell and moved past the ghosts. Something important was here. He could feel it. It was a tiny vibration that made his body tingle and his ears ring with a soft hum. He stopped. No, he had gone too far. He turned around and looked at the ghosts. No, it wasn’t over there either. He took a few more steps in a different direction then stopped again, bewildered.

A whisper of sound made Karayan whirl around. A pale haze of ghost essence coalesced before him. It did not take shape, the ghost too weak to hold a form.

You are here seeking something lost?

He hesitated and the ghost faded. “I find that which cannot be found.” He answered.

The ghost brightened. Welcome, agent, to the greatest city of Tyria! You have indeed found a wondrous treasure.

The wisp began to move away. Karayan waited a moment then followed. It led him to a winding stair case hidden by a partially collapsed wall. It halted. He inspected the dark passage, calling his torch from the ether. The ghost shrank back from him.

Your prize is ahead of you, but there is one more challenge awaiting you. Good luck… Karayan.

The Sylvari turned quickly at his name, but the ghost was already gone. How could it have possibly known? He stared at the spot where it had been. It was not coming back. Taking a deep breath he followed the stairs into an even darker chamber. A single candle, lit by a small blue flame flickered near a wall. Not even Karayan’s torch could pierce this darkness.

The ghost came screaming into the room. “You can’t have it! It belongs to me! Mine!” It raved, robes flailing through the air.

“What is it?”

The ghost howled. Fingers twisted the long white hair on his head, his face finally becoming clear. “I found it! You can’t take it from me!”

Karayan gazed impassively at the ghost. “This is pointless.”

“Pointless!” He yowled back. “I’ll show you! I’ll kill you! The king will reward me then, yes!”

The ghost pulled a scepter and focus from within his robes. Karayan changed his grip on his staff. A gust of air shoved him into the ground. He grunted as he pulled himself to his feet again. He placed a chaos storm under the ghost. His rage hissed between his teeth as he backed away from the mesmer. He changed his elemental attunement. Karayan retreated, leaving a clone behind as he backed into a wall.

Every opponent has a weakness. Caithe said as she showed him how to defeat a devourer. That is what you must exploit.

What was there to exploit about a ghost? They were dead already. He blocked another attack from the furious ghost and then dodged to avoid a burning dragon tooth. A spark beyond the ghost distracted Karayan. Something near the candle had glimmered. What was that? Karayan brought his attention back to the ghost. He was murmuring a spell, something the Sylvari’s ears could not quite catch.

Karayan summoned a pair of clones and a phantasm to confuse the ghost. He screeched in outrage, now ignoring the real Karayan. What was it? There! It sparkled again. Karayan reached for it.

“Don’t you dare touch that!”

His fingers slid around cool, faceted stone. The wail of the ghost was drowned out by the roaring of power filling the young mesmer. What was this? The power contained within the stone was too much for someone so inexperienced. The ghost dissipated into a white haze as Karayan fell to the floor, his world swimming before his eyes. A new sound gently overwhelmed the power screaming in his ears, a song he had once heard in his Dream.

“Vinesta,” he called into the darkness before succumbing to it.

~~~~
1187 words

A special thanks to my friends: Largo, skcamow, and Takka for helping me proof this before posting.

Aeol, do you see how you have scarred poor Kar, even in his early days?

Great job I really enjoyed it

Thanks. I had hoped that maybe more people would write. Should we do it again?

Aaaaand closed!

I came across this one too late to participate, but I’d certainly be willing to contribute if you feel like trying again!

Oh! =) I’ll try to get a new one posted this weekend then.