Let me tell you a story…
Us rangers were once a peaceful race. We huddled in little tribal circles, petting our squirrels and feeding our humming birds. But then the dark ages of Tyria came…
From the darkness came the thieves guild and their backstabbing ways. After the thieves came the hegemonic mesmers, who spawned endless armies of clones to fulfill their narcissistic self-worship.
Then… the most evil of the all, the unholy Queen Jennah rose to power.
We poor rangers spent our days being backstabbed in dark alleys by thieves hired by the sinister queen, who used the hard earned gold of the rangers to fill her royal coffers and design twisted watchknight drones to oppress the people. For years the Rangers were tormented, but a dedicated few knew that this could not carry on any longer. Enough was enough. These brave ranger souls formed a tight circle of trustees and decided that the time for peace was over.
The circle of rangers retreated into the mystical forests, where they tamed the first jaguars. They learned the ways of deception and backstabbing from their thiefly oppressors and used this knowledge to mold their cats into the ultimate killing machines. With much regret, they trained their deadly companions with heavy hands a cruel whips.
Thus came the first Phantom Catmasters and the first coming of Rangerok. For once the tables were turned. Mesmers checked their beds at night in fear of the deadly feline predators… only to be grasped by an invisible paw that dragged them into the depths. Thieves appeared for a backstab, only to be clawed in the backs themselves. They died, not of the wounds, but from a heart stopped with fear and suspended belief.
The days of Rangerok took their toll upon the world. Warriors fled capture points in fear of the invisible predator that stalked within. Guardians barely made it to keep gates, their aegis shredded by feline claws. All the other classes of Tyria prostrated themselves before the evil queen, begging for deliverance from the vengeful rangers. Then with a wave of her hand, Queen Jennah granted their wish… but at a price.
She called upon the square-jawed Unholy Knight Logan Thackary to train all the warriors in Tyria to use the forbidden art of permastun. Droves of warriors roamed the countryside under the queens name, clubbing all the innocents of the realm and stealing their crops and coin. With the royal coffers filled, the devious queen then hired the most insidious thieves of the Dagger and Pistol guild and set them on a mission to neuter every Jaguar in Tyria.
And so Rangerok ended. The realm became oppressed by the ironfist of stunwars and thieves. Rangers were reduced to huddling next to each other in the small fires of torch 5, telling stories about the glory days when the cat actually used to do damage.
I was one of those rangers long ago. The day Ragnarok ended, I looked down at my pet. It was a pathetic thing who moped in a sad circle, only stopping for short moments to paw at the empty void in between his legs.
I raised a gloved fist into the air before the Queen.
“One day… one day Rangerok will come again. Stand fast my brothers, for one day WE WILL HAVE OUR REVENGE!”
(edited by lordhelmos.7623)
i cannot wait for part 2 when ragnerok rises and counter the unholy army of queen jenna
