Guild Wars 2

Expected Nerf List:
1. Kits now have 60 seconds of Cool Down each, versatility must be under control.
2. Elite Skills are now all have 240 seconds of Cool Down, supply crate is far too powerful.
3. Remove 409 Formula for that it is far too powerful.
4. Removes HGH for to reduce the amount of elixir users.
5. Grenade Kit’s Grenades flight speed reduced by 100%.
6. Grenade Kit overall damage reduced by 200%
7. All condition damage reduced by 100%
8. Movement speed reduced by 100%
9. Remove toolbelt mechanic to control the overpowered Engineer.
10. Automatically apply level 100 Agony on all Engineer that dares to log on to the game. Duration is infinite.
11. Every movement made by Engineer triggers Torment Condition, in addition to confusion. Duration is infinite.
12. Remove Trait System in general for Engineer.
13. Elite Skills now require 10 gold on use.
14. Moving every radius of 240 now costs 10 silver.
15. Remove the ability to wear armor on Engineer, as originally intended.

We are indeed a great class with a high skill ceiling.

The intelligence of the developers are far too excel for us to comprehend, the complexity of their minds wield far too much prowess. In the dawn of their enlightened brains, they have decided to set aside the countless builds that center around Kit Refinement to cut a new path. A path so bright that Engineers immediately turn away from and stray once more into the wilderness.

History repeats indefinitely, however, in the Developers’ endless wisdom, they tenaciously carrying on. In their determined heads, they shout!

“I shall be innovative! I will be victorious! Even if there are no Engineers left in Guild Wars 2, even if all those idiotic players who fail to follow our brilliant designs! We shall prevail! Perhaps not as a class, perhaps useless in all situations, triumph will be there at the end!”

Thus, in respond to this invigorating call, there lie players’ teary eyes. So astonishing a speech! No developers alive can call out with such courage and have the audacity to split a path into the endless oblivion. The voices of the players grow louder by the second, and they are here as one, united in strength!

“STOP IT ALREADY!”

I end up laying on my back, even breathing has become a problem for me. The Elixir’s side effects are more severe than I ever predicted it to be.

“Leza!” A distant shout, I can see my bandmates rushing toward me on their fours. The leading Charr being Tribune Brimstone. I suppose the other superior officers are arriving as well. Finally, some rest for me and my—

Another gush of blood from my muzzle, I choke on it as well.

“Oh my Charr, cub, are you alright?!” Luccia loses her cool for the first time, she quickly remove my armor then gasps.

Radin covers his mouth in horror as he spots me on the ground. “Wh—what happened?!”

“Soldier! Stay with us, we’ll patch you up, but you have to stay awake!” Brimstone roars in my ears, that really doesn’t help. I would rather die than have a shattered eardrum.

Ovani has already begin chanting, I suppose it’s some sort of spell. “Hold on, I’ll slow down the bleeding on your torso with ice magic.”

“Boss! Boss!” Dinky collapses next to me, I think I see something shining in his eyes. Whoa, tears? Dinky’s crying? No bloody way, my wounds are totally worth it, I have never seen him cry before.

“Idiot, I’m fine, I won’t kick the bucket that easily.” I groan, the ice magic soothes my pain by a lot. I suppose for once my tail isn’t on fire with Ovani around.

Galina and Snarl have also returned to my side. The female Blood Legion Charr salutes to me solemnly. “Sir, your contribution to our successful defense against the enemy was enormous. I feel that I should say this here, in case I don’t have another chance.”

“Galina, don’t say that, the soldier will be fine.” Rytlock snaps. What a surprise, the legendary Charr is actually defending me.

“Hurry up and set up an emergency medic camp!” Snarl Backdraft roars, then turns his head to me. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you fixed up as fast as we can. Everyone, search for soldiers that are injured on the field, we need to minimize our casualties.”

“Right, I’ll lead a team right away.” Galina nods, agreeing with Snarl for once.

“Legionnaire Darkhaze should have his warband as company, I’ll join the search.” Tribune Brimstone quickly moves on, with Snarl following behind him.

“I’ll move him a nearby bed with air magic.” Ovani whispers words of magic, I levitate above ground swiftly like a feather. Blood drips from the tips of my claws and other parts of my body.

Radin follows closely as he takes my paw. “You’ll be fine, stay with us.”

A moment later, I find myself in the comfort of a soft bed. I feel stiff as hell, plus the fact that I probably suffer from severe blood loss doesn’t help.

“I hope—you guys aren’t angry—with me, I didn’t—ask you—all to—”

Luccia grips my other paw, smiling nervously. “Don’t try to talk, we have plenty of time after you recover.

“Heh—”

Another rush of blood. I turn over the bed and vomit again, this time it’s completely blood. I crumble back into my bed, too weak to talk. I close my eyes for some rest, I can’t hold up much longer if I don’t give myself a break.

“No! Come on, Boss!” I can feel Dinky’s amulet touching my skin. I know that amulet, everyone has one in my warband. Now I think of it, I’m surprised he didn’t lose in with his clumsiness all these years. “Cats have nine lives, I may have used eight of yours from bothering you, but you gotta—”

I burst into laughter, Dinky’s muzzle curls into a smile. I pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll be around for a while longer to annoy you, as well. I just need some shut-eye.”

“I checked, he doesn’t have any life threatening injury, he’ll be fine.” Ovani suddenly becomes very mature, and I just noticed that. I’m so glad he didn’t start using technical terms that probably only he knows, and the fact my tail hasn’t been damaged.

Oh my head hurts just from thinking. I better catch some sleep before I really pass out and never wake up again. But—what did I just prove in that battle? I only brought more confusion to myself. This time, the spotlight is no longer on war or someone else. What the hell am I?

My legs spin in the air as my paws work as moving axis. Waves and waves of static discharges burst from my belt as they storm Sedulo with overwhelming numbers.

I must have triggered overload on my toobelt, but it’s not like I can help it. My body leaps back on its paws, then rushes toward the severely wounded enemy.

As a last resort, Sedulo lets out a roar as a dozen of undead wolves snarl and hurl into the air. My right paw digs firmly into the ground, then a powerful push in the upward direction with the aid of my rocket engine.

Another graceful somersault dance, my arms are stretched out as I commence indiscriminate fire in the mid-air, also triggering static discharge. My wild shots plus numerous lightnings eliminated the majority of the wolves. My landing takes place directly on Sedulo, knocking him down to the ground.

I swing my lance into the air for momentum as I drive it deep through my brother’s shoulder, nailing him to the ground. A loud howl, my adversary attempts to retaliate, but I have already pressed the muzzles of my merged pistols against the armor around his heart.

“Sorry, I just can’t remember what mercy is.” I shrug with a twisted grin. I want to stop, this is going too far. Even if he’s an enemy, Sedulo is still my brother, how can I bring myself to—

Oh you don’t care, you never cared. You only pretend that way so you can feel better about yourself. Come on, you know it, you’re a war machine, just like me.

That voice again, what the hell is it? Wait—is it possible that he’s the one possessing my body at the moment?! A second personality?!

I pull the triggers, discharging a combined static shot that causes Sedulo to jerk wildly. His legs kick out, then soon goes limp.

He’s not dead, come on, let’s finish him together, it will be fun. You want to do this, you want to kill, what are you hesitating for?!

No! I’m not like you, get out of my head!

A strange wave of energy knocks me away along with my crossbow from the enemy’s Legionnaire. I roll across the earth, but quickly regained my footing and slide for a short distance on my hind paws and a fore paw.

“You’re not the Gadeleza I know, who are you?” It’s Cadessa! He points a greatsword at me as he stands over my fallen brother. Though I hate him for humiliating me earlier, I must thank him for stopping whoever’s possessing my body from murdering my sibling.

“Oh you know exactly who I am, Cadessa Darkhaze.” I dust myself clean, then grin viciously. “I’m the product of that inhumane experiment. You happen to be kind enough to adopt me, I suppose I must thank you.”

What the hell is this person talking about? Experiment?! Adopted?

“Genetic Engineering isn’t exactly inhumane, you know?” The Mesmer chuckles, he’s actually having fun with this conversation. I find that frustrating. Plus, Genetic Engineering? I thought that sort of technology doesn’t exist.

I points my weapons at my left and right as Flame Legion grunts approach from my sides. I lick my muzzle with my long tongue and drools slightly. “Come on, I can’t wait to get my hands on a few more souls.”

“We’re withdrawing.” Cadessa orders, then leers at me before he leaves. “I’ll be visiting you soon, Gadeleza.”

Aw, this is no fun. Handle the rest yourself.

Wait! Tell me what the hell are you and what’s that whole Genetic Engineering—

I realize whatever was within me has gone into slumber, but this is ridiculous. I have an entire different conscience inside of me, in addition to the conversation from before. This is too much for me to take in.

The moment I feel that I’m back in control, a noxious sensation rushes up to my brain. I fall over and vomit blood along with some food I ate. Then I try to rise to my paws, but that fails as well. I’m in an extremely weak state. The pain begins to settle back as well, it’s excruciating.

“Not bad, why did you reject your own father’s invitation?” Sedulo’s scythe’s beard latches onto my crossbow-lance. We both hold our ground stubbornly, a contest of pure strength.

I can feel that I’m being overpowered, but that’s expected since he has a larger build physically. “There are people I want to protect!”

“Then why are you fighting alone, right now?” He presses his muzzle closer, whispering words into my ears. My eyes widen, it’s almost as if his poison has seeped into my pelt, tainting my blood. I look around and find my allies falling back, if I don’t do the same, I’ll be overwhelmed and finished.

Sedulo detects my absentminded state and overpowers me in an instant, then the sharp tooth of his scythe scratches my torso diagonally. The attack slashed through my armor and reached my vulnerable skin. Blood burst from my body as I stagger back. It hurts like hell, no better than having my body in lava, I hold down on my wound, but it doesn’t help, blood continues to stream.

“Don’t make me finish you, I don’t want to stain my paws with—”

“Finish me? In your wildest dreams.” I sneer, then removes a black flask from my belt. My paw is stained with blood, a fusion of red and white. I’m betting everything on this.

“What are you—”

I gulp down everything in the dark flask, then smash it to the ground. A bright glow emerges from my right eye, then I can feel my body being taken over by an unknown spirit. Like a drop of ink in a glass of clear water, the energy within spread like virus, supplying my entire being.

“I’ll just have to destroy you.” I speak, but along with another voice, a much deeper voice.

I hold my crossbow in the right hand, then connect my pistols by the end of their magazines, resulting in a strange looking weapon. My left hand’s index finger and ring finger are clutching onto the triggers.

I leap back into combat, swinging my crossbow-lance at Sedulo. My enemy deflects my slash with his scythe, but I immediately whirl in a circle gracefully, followed with a weapon transformation. The crossbow’s muzzles reopen as the blades part, four explosive bolts fired at a very close range.

The explosions cause Sedulo to fall back for a few feet, dodging my attacks. I refuse to spare him any time to recover, chasing after my bolts as I spin the duo pistols in my left hand. I leap over Sedulo’s head with a swift aerial-somersault, pulling the two triggers at once with one hand. A particle bolt blasts my opponent at pointblank. The recoil sends me higher into the air, I complete a smooth tumble with my arms crossed in front of my chest, then release two handful of grenades at the ground below.

“I’m not done yet,” I pant, not knowing how I’m performing these moves. I’m completely giving control to whatever possesses my body at the moment. To be honest, Elixir X is an invention that I never intended to use. It excavates all potential abilities of the user, then magnify them. It’s basically a berserker trigger with a time limit. I don’t remember the side effects, I’m sure using this Elixir when I’m already wounded won’t be pleasant on my body when I recover from its burst effects.

Lunging, my crossbow-lance cuts through the dust from the explosion, but blocked by the snath of a scythe.

“How does bleeding feel, huh?” I smirk, licking my muzzle distastefully as I study Sedulo covered in blood and shrapnels. Those aren’t my words, but I have no control over what I do at the moment. It does feel good though.

My paw propels against the ground, I know this move. Powered by a mini rocket, my paw slams into the side of Sedulo’s muzzle, burning him in the process. I ride the momentum of my kick, executing a handstand followed by a windmill. My enemy’s scythe has already been knocked out from his paws.

“West gate! They’re flooding into the—” The shout is interrupted by a death cry. I groan of sorrow, then quickly move toward the second gate.

I see now, the whole North Gate invasion was a feint, while a small amount of elite soldiers infiltrate through the West Gate.

I curse at myself for not predicting a tactic common like this. I hope Tribune Brimsto—no—I need to do this myself, not relying on others.

Launching a green flare, I order the troops on the north field to retreat. There’s no time to sit around and wait, I need to join the reinforcement of the West Gate, otherwise everything would fall.

I can see allies’ corpses scattered across the ground, and the enemy’s leading Charr wears a black scarf. His fur blazes red as flame, eyes are scarlet like mine. However, he has a larger build and wields a massive scythe, about twice his own size.

Our reinforcement clashes with the enemy’s force as I fire a bullet from my pistol at the leader of the team of infiltrators.

The red Charr closes in fast, locking me into melee almost instantly. I switch my pistols into blade modes and clash with my opponent’s gigantic scythe, creating red sparks. It’s hard to hold my ground, but I stand up to him. “So—I suppose you’re the one in charge. Did Cadessa warned you about an Engineer being here, Sedulo?”

“Hm.” He smirks, then licks his muzzle. “So you’re my elder brother, what a pity, but I will enjoy killing you.”

“Easier said than done.” I knock Sedulo’s weapon back with a cry, then quickly activate the blowtorches on my pistols. Two cones of flame, fired at about pointblank.

He conjures an undead creature, it vaporizes within my attack, but protected Sedulo from the blast. The scent of the rotten and burned flesh sickens me, but I press on with the battle.

“Tck, Necromancer.” I frown, creating some distance.

Sedulo barks a quick spell, the soil under my paws turn into a poisonous swamp. In addition, a circle of magic arrows forms behind him, glittering with greenish light. There’s no time for me to escape the poison field and dodge the arrows. I sheath my handguns and quickly equip the crossbow on my back. At the same time, I let an elixir flask slip to the ground, temporarily canceling the swirling poison at my paws.

Time to give my horrible aim another test. I aim and fire rapidly as Sedulo launches his magic arrows. Focusing more on intercepting than direct attack, I managed to shoot down the majority of the incoming projectiles.

A neat mechanism of my invention is the duo bolt chambers. The top chamber fires as the bottom slot reloads, vice versa, enabling spontaneous attacks. Clicking a button, the blades on the tip of my crossbow close in on each other, covering the muzzles of the weapon and forming one massive lance. I slash down at the last arrow, but lost sight of Sedulo.

“I have you now!” The enemy Legionnaire has launched his scythe from his hand, it is whirling toward me. There’s no way in hell I can dodge something that huge.

“Try harder.” I cry, tossing another flask of elixir to the ground, generating a reflector wall.

We exchanged a few blows in melee, then separate again. I have to admit, Sedulo’s quite impressive for his age.

The silver pistols have long barrels, all equipped with poison treated, large switch-blades ready for action. The black crossbow is an automated weapon, its tip is customized to be two extremely long lances shielding the bolt chamber. Therefore, a melee and range weapon like the pistols.

Hell or not, I’m ready for anything.

The sun is bright above my head as I reach the Exterminatus Headquarter. Three flags consisting the Iron, Ash, and Blood Legion symbols are hovering in the air. I chuckle to myself as I reach the designated location, I should have bought Dinky with me, at least. I guess blood rushed my brain.

But with or without my warband, this is something I have to accomplish. I will protect my Legion, and those who are allied. Not for some intangible virtues, but by my own free will.

The area’s quite sealed off, only two entrances, and heavily guarded with Charrs. I approach the area, a commotion, apparently.

“Portable Turrets? Seriously? You Ash Legion took the technology and build turrets?! Laughable, these things only suit your cowards’ needs. A real Charr takes the fight head on, not hiding in shadows and dropping turrets.” Galina Edgecrusher, I can recognize her from her voice. One of the most fierce female Charrs in the Blood Legion, I heard even Tribune Brimstone watches himself around her.

“And your enormous cannon does any better? Who’s stupid enough to charge toward a large cannon like that? My Legion’s turrets do much better with superior accuracy.” That’s Snarl Backdraft for you, a tactical forecaster. He’s quite famous by that title, this is the first time I see him in person.

I hurry over to the argument, there are tests await me to conduct. “Soldiers, pull yourselves together. We’re here to kill ghosts, not each other. Now, who can—”

“Incoming smoke lickers! Tons of them!” A shout in distance.

A direct attack? The way my father phrased it, ‘harassment.’ Why are they charging so bluntly at us? Either way, Tribune Brimstone and the other superior officers are not present yet, I suppose I need to take command.

I climb to the highest point of the Headquarter, spotting at least fifty Flame Legion grunts. “Listen up! I, Legionnaire Gadeleza Darkhaze will take command of the stronghold for the moment! The weapons that are currently tested can be used against solid targets! Hit their vanguard hard, then we’ll eliminate them one by one!”

A swiftly leap, I land on the ground. The two famous soldiers consult me immediately. I speak before they can bring up any questions. “Galina, use your cannons and hit their vanguard head on, it doesn’t matter if you miss, dim their spirits!”

“Roger!” The female Charr storms off as she organizes her Legion for a bombardment.

“Snarl, use your stealth advantage to surround the enemy, deploy turrets in hidden locations. Once the deployment is complete, I will give Galina the all-green for her to scatter the enemy.”

“Good call.” Backdraft nods in agreement, then rallies the Ash Legion for a preemptive setup.

The enemy rushes toward the North gate, with their numbers, it will be hard for us to delay them. I still don’t understand why are they attacking so blatantly. They must have some tricks under their sleeves.

“Send in two squadrons to distract and delay these smoke lickers, don’t make pointless sacrifices, just cut their momentum down!” I shout, then observe two teams of Charrs advance into the battlefield.

Our forces clash with the Flame Legion vanguard, almost immediately, we begin to retreat, but slowing down the opponent. At this rate, it will be enough delay for Snarl to setup.

A blue signal flare appears above the field of war. I rush to the nearest motar and fire a red flare, signaling the allies to retreat from the bombardment site. Then with every ounce of oxygen I have in my lungs, I roar. “Galina! Hit them with everything you got!”

A barrage of explosive cannonballs immediately deploys on the battlefield, completely shattering the enemy’s formation. The moment they begin to split, turrets come to life and begin a wide range barrage of indiscriminate explosive rounds. I can see the Flame Legion grunts flee for their lives, some just drop dead to the ground, others drag themselves across the realm of crossfire and end up becoming target practice dummies.

I let out a long breathe, at least I managed to prevent a large scale att—

“No way,” I shake my head. “It was too real even for a Mesmer, there’s no way!”

Cadessa grabs an empty glass from a table nearby, then fiddles with it. “What strengthens a Mesmer’s illusion abilities is the victim’s will. You wanted to believe in Reeva’s return desperately, therefore you made the spell stronger with your own mind. I played no part whatsoever. Put it plainly, it wouldn’t have worked on a person who has no excessive emotional attachment.”

“So that’s your goal? To humiliate me?!” I shout, angered at my own weakness and the fact he used Reeva.

Cadessa draws a deep breathe, then exhale in the same fashion. His eyes are closed as he levitates the glass in his hand into the mid-air with magic. “Cub, I’m trying to help you realize your weaknesses. You have too emotional to be a Charr, too sentimental to be a soldier. Then your intellectual curiosity only brings more chaos to your mind. Even Dinky has an advantage over you on these points I mentioned. Leza, you’re an easy target when you find yourself on a battlefield.”

I don’t speak, I don’t want to, nor do I find it necessary. Somehow, I can feel fury building up within me.

“I came today, only to see how you’re progressing in the art of war.” Cadessa runs a hand through his dark-brown mane, then stares into my eyes with legitimate disappointment. “Your brother, on the other hand, is progressing much better.”

“Get out.” I mumble.

“A week ago was his sixteenth birthday, he scored his hundredth kill that day. I’m proud of him.”

“If mother’s alive, she would be disappointed at him.” I mock, exercising my arm to get rid of stiffness.

“Your mother always appreciated peace, but there’s no such thing unless one fights for it.” Cadessa’s eyes glow dimly, I think I’m touching a subject that may enrage him to the point of slaughtering me.

“That’s where I inherited her sentiments, as you put it. Then, how my brother followed your brutality.” I word my sentences with extra caution, when it comes to speaking of my mother, I need to watch myself in front of Cadessa.

“Cub, I don’t blame you for that. I’m a militaristic Charr, not an emotional babysitter. You can continue with your way if you want, but if I happen to face you and the battlefield, I have no problem ripping your stomach open with my own claws.”

“Even if I’m your flesh and blood?”

“Even if you are my flesh and blood, cub.” Cadessa chuckles softly, then nods. “On other other hand, you will probably have a horrible time this afternoon. We have arranged a small harassment on your weapon test.”

My brows crease, then followed with an raised eyebrow. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” Cadessa laughs like a maniac. “Your brother happens to be the legionnaire in charge of that harassment.”

I freeze, then watch my father gracefully equip his sunglasses. “Gadeleza, show me what you can do, if you’re still bear the last name ‘Darkhaze.’”

My mind is a mess, a Flame Legion member just walk in and out of my barrack so casually. Most importantly, he humiliates me in such an unacceptable manner. I grit my teeth as he leaves. “Bring a message to my brother, if he dares showing up with his smoke licking friends, I’ll bury him with my grenades.”

Cadessa waves at me with his back turned, then embraces the sunlight outside and vanishes. I head to my workbench, pulling out a drawer. I feel around with my paw, then press down on a button. A bullet proof display case dashes out, I run my fingers across the installed keyboard to unlock the safe.

I think I found a partial answer to what I seek. The reason to fight, the reason to involve myself in a pointless vicious cycle. I don’t want to be ignored like some second-rated television programs. The only reason I haven’t used any of my hidden equipments is solely due to my hesitation.

I don’t want to take a life unless necessary, but that’s totally out of the window right now. I fight for my self-esteem, my pride as a Charr. If my father looks down on me so much, then I’ll surprise him with everything I have.

A pair of customized pistols, then a huge crossbow with specialized bolts. I equip my new gears, then fill my utility belt with grenades and elixirs. The particle rifle can only be effective when used stationary, definitely not what I need for the upcoming battle.

“Oh no, Radin’s even more dangerous than Ovani, Ovani Terrali. He’s a former pirate, a sophisticated pirate at best.” Cadessa cleans his glasses with the material of his pants, much indifference stems from his arrogant displays. Plus, how the hell is he getting so much information about me and my surroundings?

I frown, not exactly catching on to where he is going. Anyway, Ovani, a pirate? I guess that’s why he seems so suspicious, and the bounty for his head is probably due to that.

“I see Radin gave that amulet of his to you, you better not let Rytlock see you walking around with that thing.”

I hold the fire amulet in my fist, squinting slightly. “Why?”

“Because that’s a gift from Tribune Brimstone, or you can look at it as a huge sign around your neck that says: ‘mess with me, you mess with Rytlock Brimstone.’”

Now I recall, Radin gave it to me and said that it will keep the Flame Legion grunts away, I suppose this is what he meant. But giving something this important away—

“Radin’s a great assassin, I have to admit. He and I went on missions before, killed tons of Charrs. Of course, tons of Iron Legion members.” Cadessa provokes, I try not to fall for his conspicuous taunt, but it’s tempting.

“At least he has some morals.” I retort, cutting my father short.

“Watch your tongue, cub. I can wipe the floor with you.” He suppresses his anger professionally, giving me a fair warning.

I roll my eyes. “Try it then, I wonder what you have—”

A figure approaches from the entrance of the barrack. I take a step closer for a better look. I can’t believe this! The dark fur, bright amber eyes, meticulous features are all exactly the same! Her armors are torn, and soaked with blood at various places, but it’s her!

“Reeva!” I shout, full of joy as I rush toward to her.

Suddenly, she arms herself with a pistol, pointing it at me. Her eyes are filled with anger and hatred, her lips draw back into a ferocious snarl. “Don’t come close.”

“Wh—Reeva, it’s me, Leza!” I cry, overjoyed, but yet confused. She never behaved this way, maybe her wounds are causing too much pain for her.

“Yea, I know you,” she sneers. “You’re the one who killed me.”

“What are you talking about?!” I roar, deeply hurt by her accusation.

“Where were you when I was defending Smokestead from those foul ghosts?”

“I—I was on my way to—”

“You left us to die, Marv, Howl and me. You abandoned us, don’t you remember?”

I can’t think of a word to say, but something snaps in my mind. I walk up to her, disregarding the pistol in her hand. Taking Reeva into my arms, I hug her tightly, and moan. “I’m sorry, it was my fault. Forgive me, I’ll do anything to make up for my mistake.”

The blood on her body soaks my fur, I rest my muzzle on her shoulder. I’m seeking more comfort than what I try to offer. There’s nothing more heartbreaking than—

Pain, ridiculous pain. I gape, and blood gushes from my muzzle, tainting my teeth and chin. My arms around her loosen as I take a stumbling step back. A dagger has pierced my stomach half way! Blood spills from my abdomen like a waterfall. I taste nothing but salty liquid, smell nothing but rusted copper.

“Sure, you’ll pay, with your life!” Reeva laughs with malice, driving the dagger in her hand to penetrate my stomach. I can feel the tip of the dagger rip through my intestines, then the skin on my back. I throw my head back and give a loud howl.

She releases the dagger, allowing it to stay in my body. I stumble back for a few steps, my back crashes against a table, then slide down to the floor. I’m sitting helplessly as I witness my own blood flow to the floor and form a large pool of blood.

“Reeva—why?” I call weakly, not understanding her cruel actions. She was never this violent, unforgiving. The agony dominates my head, I can’t get up to my paws.

She approaches me with a steady pace, then mounts over me as the tip of her muzzle touches my black nose. “Now it’s time to say goodbye.”

“No—don’t do this—I—” Reeva’s head darts forward, her teeth locking onto my throat and closing. It’s slow at first, I can feel my skin’s defense crumbling slowly. Just as I give a death cry, it’s cut short as she snaps her jaws completely. I can still feel her fang chewing on my soft throat for a few seconds, then—nothing.

“That makes three minutes, did you enjoy your dream?” Cadessa smirks, he sits in his seat comfortably. Wait—what the hell? Reeva killed me and I—

“You’re a Mesmer!” I shout, realizing I haven’t been harmed physically at all. I look down, there’s no hole in my stomach with a dagger stuck in it. Then I feel around my neck, there’s no chewed up throat.

He holds up his paws, as if a magician facing an applauding crowd. “You dreamed for a full three minutes, that means I had a whole three minutes to kill you if I wanted to.”

On a serious note. I have an Asura rampaging in the Citadel, who sets out on destroying every plant holder, with fire. Then myself being sucked into the middle of some love triangle, I don’t even know how should I explain this to Radin without making it awkward for him. Then this afternoon, I have to examine Blood and Ash Legion with their prototypes of my Ghostbore Musket.

Really, I demand a break.

“Hm, a cozy place.” A stranger intrudes without any warning. He’s already in the middle of my barrack. Light brown fur, with dark stripes, plus an average build for a Charr. This unexpected visitor wears a pair of sunglasses, then a large silver ring connected with three leather straps wrapped around his torso. Judging from amount of exposure of his fur, he must be a shaman of some sort. I continue to study the leisure intruder, stopping at his black trousers. Wait a minute, those iron earrings on his right ear are almost like—no bloody way—

“Father?” I gasp, almost choking on my own saliva.

He waves at me, then removes his glasses and place them aside. Those red eyes, almost identical to mine, but his smile is wider. “It’s just Cadessa. I see you have grown, cub.”

As much as I want to take him into my arms and tell him how much I miss him, he’s an enemy of mine. I draw a pistol from my belt and train it at my father. “Smoke lickers aren’t welcomed here.”

Cadessa takes my threat seriously, he removes a greatsword from his back and points it at me. There’s a murderous scent emitting around his body. “Don’t make this difficult for the both of us. As much as I love my flesh and blood, my illusions won’t be merciful.”

We stare at each other for a few seconds, then I take the initiative and sheath my gun. “I don’t want a mess in my own barrack. What are you doing here, Cadessa?”

He grabs a chair and sits in front of me. “I’m getting paid to be here, so feel free to drag this out.”

I give a sneer.

“I have something very interesting to tell you, about Radin.” Cadessa smirks, his lips curl up to an extreme degree, almost frightening.

“What about my bandmate?” I lean against a table behind me, not as fascinated as my father expect me to be.

Cadessa rubs his paws together, then winks childishly. “Radin’s last name. He’s known as Radin Brimstone, son of the legendary Tribune Brimstone. Rytlock is actually very fond of his only cub, despite how callous he may look. He even overlooks the fact that his son’s in the Flame Legion.”

“And that’s not a good thing?” I inquire, feeling the edges of the subject of discussion in total darkness.

“Not a chance.” I raise an eyebrow, half smiling. “This amulet is yours, it’s a symbol that you’re one of us. Make us proud out there.”

“I never understood why this type of ritual must be performed.” The Thief circles his neck with the amulet, then cries with a soft voice. “Ow, it’s jabbing me.”

“Oh quit crying.”

“I would have said the same to you last night.” He elbows me in the stomach, then looks at his new jewelry. He seems to be exceptionally fond of meticulous items in general. Plus his feminine displays before sure arouses my curiosity.

I can’t help but start jabbing at the edges. “You said you have a wife, right?”

He nods, then questions me in return. “What about her?”

“Oh nothing,” I push my suspicion aside, then snorts. “Just thought Dinky may have a new best friend.”

“Who’s Dinky?”

“Oh I forgot to introduce you to my bandmates, just a moment.” I clap with my paws, then give a shout. “Dinky! Luccia! Report in!”

The two approach from two different directions. Dinky has a piece of meat in his mouth, Luccia has a half-filled bullet between her claws.

“Allow me to introduce Radin. Our newest bandmate.” I stand by the new member’s side, introducing. “Dinky, starting from you, report to the new member.”

The Guardian’s stares directly at Radin, the piece of meat by his muzzle falls as he drools. I’m certain he’s not exactly hungry—for food. I give him a few seconds and a dry cough, but his eyes are locked on Radin. More likely, his open trench coat.

Luccia jabs the Guardian a few times, but I think he’s far gone.

“Anyway, I’m Luccia Wildeye. Please to meet you, cub.” The elder female Charr greets, replacing the absentminded Guardian.

Radin blinks dumbly at Dinky, not exactly getting the message. I cough dryly once more, then I give up on helping the two. I smack Dinky by the back of his head. “This is our only Guardian in the warband, he’s quite reliable despite of his appearance.”

The Thief bows slightly, confused in regard to Dinky’s peculiar expression.

“What should I call you?” The Thief inquires.

I ponder as I cross my chest with my arms. “Well, Dinky calls me ‘Boss,’ Luccia calls me ‘Cub,’ my former bandmates called me ‘Leza.’”

“Okay, Leza it is. I need to run a few errands, I’ll be back for dinner, save some food if you can.”

“Oh I’m sure Dinky will save plenty for you, right?” I jab my distracted friend’s rib with my elbow. Even so, Dinky is still far gone in his dreams.

I throw my palm at my face. Ovani drags himself out from a plant holder. He cough harshly as dust fall from his robe. “Ugh! What nefarious device is this? What a deadly trap for us Asura, I must scan this malevolent technology thoroughly and develop an effective countermeasure. It would be a massacre if I allow such—”

“It’s a plant holder, used to hold plants.” I speak in a very flat voice, I’m not sure if I should start laughing or keep quiet.

“Oh no no no, you simply cannot understand. The perplexity of such intricate machine must be analyzed in order to prevent the mass production of—”

“There are plant holders everywhere in the Citadel.”

“Goodness no, I must set out to destroy these death traps before my comrades fall for such foul trickery! They are dangerous in their existence, Get it right!”

With that, my midget friend busts out from my barrack. I don’t really feel like chasing after him. Wait—he’s hiding from bounty hunters and now he’s out on a quest to destroy every plant holder in the Citadel?! Oh my Charr, if this gets out of hand…

“Luccia, please go chase Ovani down, and hide any plant holder you see on the way.”

“What in the—”

“Please! The entire Citadel is in terrible danger! We have an unstable Elementalist who will set every tail he sees on fire, then blast every plant holder in sight with meteors! Save us!” I cry, as silly as this sounds, it’s the reality.

“Okay Cub, off I go.”

Dinky has finally recovered from his daydream. I frown at him as he turns to me with a surprised look. “Boss! Did you see him?! He’s gorgeous!”

“Do you have any idea what an awkward situation you just caused back there?” I sigh with my eyes closed. Then I figure it would be better if I just kill off his “peculiar” thoughts toward Radin. “Radin has a wife, and two cubs, you know?”

“What if he—can you ask for me, Boss?”

I feel like smashing my head into the nearest wall, because of Dinky’s persistence. I manage a horrible smile. “Sure Dinky, anything for you, my friend.”

He begins to take off in a different direction. I can hear him mumbling something. “Unbelievable!”

I guess being simple has its downsides. Speaking of which, I still can’t find that special someone. I guess this is really my fate, should have given Reeva a try when I had the chance.

Chapter 5: Test Your Metal

“Morning.” A grand smile, almost frightening in a sense. I open my eyes and find Radin standing over me.

A groan, then I rub my eyes softly. I think I overslept, it’s noon already, judging from the angle of the sun outside. “Don’t you know what you’re doing is harassment?”

“I just figure you would commit suicide if I’m not here to watch over you. I suppose you’re a bit stronger than what I thought.” His black lips curl up into a grin. Radin sits in a chair nearby, apparently he doesn’t plan to leave like always. I haven’t discovered this from before, but Radin is quite tall, even for a Charr. I suppose his lean build made me overlook his height.

“Well, I’m intact and I don’t plan on killing myself. Why are you still here?”

The Thief’s face suddenly loses all its colors. I can tell something serious is cooking up under his dramatic acts. He looks away, then mumbles. “I’m sorry about yesterday, I crossed the line.”

I shake my head, pulling on my inner armor as I reply. “That was a good call, you knocked me awake. I needed that.”

“I thought about your offer, and I think I decided.”

My eyes brighten, recruiting someone skillful like him is valuable to my warband. “You want in, I take it?”

He tosses a screw from my workbench at me. Then force a smile to compensate whatever he feels guilty for. “Yea, why not? Sign me up.”

Radin removes his amulet, passes it to me delicately as he walks by. “Keep this with you, the Flame Legion won’t bother you as much if you have this on.”

Before I can ask for the reason, I realize it with my own two eyes. The design of the amulet aims to symbolize fire, and the fact that it glows red like flame at night means—

“You’re a member of—”

He covers my muzzle with a paw, then examines the environment to ensure no one heard our conversation. Radin looks down to the ground. “Don’t say it, please. I silenced a close friend before, just to secure my secret. I don’t want to do it again, and don’t make me.”

“So that’s your reason.” I frown, understanding the reason behind the hurt I saw in his eye last night. He betrayed Ash Legion once before, then he turned his back on Flame Legion last night. I cannot imagine the stress, and the pain he bears.

“I know this sounds pathetic, but I’m scared.” He kneels in front of me, I try to stop him but he forces himself to complete his movement. “I am just as confused as you are, but at least, I feel safer with you around. I don’t know what I’m fighting for anymore…”

I gape, I mean I had male Charrs that broke down in tears in front of me before. But this is something I don’t know how to handle. Somehow, words flow from my muzzle as I tighten my grip on his shoulder. “Then let’s find the answer, together.”

He nods gratefully. I still can’t believe this, someone with this much prowess can be so weak mentally. Nevertheless, he speaks the truth. In the maelstrom of warfare, we are two lost souls who cannot hope to find the key to unlock the madness around us. Yet, our effort to do precisely that, may have a certain significance all by itself.

I pull my light armor over my head as I approach my workbench. The floor’s cold without paw-wear, I wonder how does it go for Radin. He doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.

I grab one of the silver amulets hanging from the shelves above my working area. It’s exactly like the one I returned to Howl’s family. A silver wolf head.

I hold out my hand with the amulet sitting on it, the string is made of wolf’s claws. “Put your paw on mine, and repeat what I say.”

Radin places his paw softly on the amulet, then awaits my speech with his eyes closed sincerely.

“From this day onward, my soul shall become one with my warband’s core. I shall protect my bandmates to death, and never betray them. My Legion is my only authority, and my warband is my only family.”

Radin repeats after me, then shoots me a cunning look. “Is blood a part of this ritual?”

That was my idea I believe. In my “Engineer Revamp Plan” thread. This idea lessen the work on Developers and promotes Turrets to be a viable asset on the battlefield. I’m glad people are liking this idea.

What incredible dexterity and mastery! I can’t ever dream of becoming this good in combat acrobatic even if I train for the rest of my life. Kaze seems shaken for the first time, he takes a step back. “You’ll pay for this, you hear me?”

“Sure,” Radin retrieves his dagger from the fallen Guardian’s shield, standing in the breeze, shirtless. He pants lightly, I can tell he has adapted to heavy demands on his body for years before this battle.

The Flame Legion retreats immediately as Kaze gives the order. I push myself to my paws and sit on the ground. My acquaintance loots his trench coat from the ground, then just let it hang on his shoulders. The sleeves of his coat flow in the breeze without content.

“Are you waiting for me to say ‘thank you?’” I look up, spitting out dirt from the ground.

He walks up to me, grabs me by the collar of my armor and punches me square in the muzzle.

“Ah!” I fall over again, not expecting the hit. I spring up to my paws completely, eyes burning of rage. “What the hell?!”

He swings his hand in the air, I think it hurt him more than it harmed me. Radin blows on his fist as he explains with a straight face. “That was for your bandmate, not me.”

“Wh—” I catch myself, realizing I probably deserved more than that punch. The basic of rule of all warbands is unity. If a group of Charrs can’t fight together, they would rather die together. I should apologize to Dinky after I make it back to the barrack. I can’t afford to keep making mistake like this, but—I’m so—

“I know you’re confused, but sheesh.” Radin gives me a paw to help me up. He stares into my eyes with a pair of sympathetic ones. “I know how you felt back there, when you told your bandmate to run. I made some decisions like you did, and trust me, they are the worst.”

“You—”

“Yes yes, I know,” he throws his paws into the air as he rolls his eyes. “Who would want to be lectured by some Thief who doesn’t even know how to socialize. I’ll be going now.”

I catch him by his wrist, then stare into his eyes. “Thank you, I didn’t want to say anything more than that. Thank you.”

He rolls his eyes again, as if it’s no big deal. Something tells me he’s just as confused as I am. Maybe not about the same thing, but something unsettling is visible from his eyes.

“What, you’re going to propose mating now?” He jokes, jerking free my from paw. Radin strokes the tuft on his neck, leaving one last sentence before disappearing into the darkness. “Don’t throw you life away like that again, just don’t.”

Suddenly, I spot Luccia, Ovani, Dinky and several other unfamiliar Charrs sprinting toward me as if their lives depend on it. The night’s quite dark without a moon, or stars. I greet as they arrive. “Hey, sorry I got you wo—”

Dinky leaps into my arms. “Boss! Oh I’m so glad! I thought I was too late.”

Wildeye falls in after him, less enthusiastic. Regardless, I can see the worry in her eyes. “Cub, are you alright? Did you defeat all of them by yourself?”

“Hm, according to my calculation, you had a one point seven percent chance of victory. I must say you are very lucky.” Ovani glances around, then points a finger at me.

I look around, corpses, dismembered limbs, and blood are the theme of this mysterious capture of the scene. That reminds me, who the hell is this Radin guy? he took on so many enemies all at once. This isn’t just an outstanding result of training, he must have participated in numerous battles. Come to think of it, I still don’t really know who he is.

“Let’s go back to the barrack, I have inspection to do at a HQ tomorrow at thirteen hundred,” I sigh. It’s been a long day, far too long.

Sacrificing myself is no way to prove anything, I learned at least that much. But then, what’s the purpose of my struggle in this world, if dying is just a coward’s escape?

I want to scream and tell him to get out of here, but my muzzle is filled with dirt. This is stupid, I try not to involve people into this and he crashes in regardless.

Radin smiles at the incoming warrior with his eyes closed. A slash directed at the Thief’s exposed chest halts as it clashes with a dagger in mid-air. Within a second, Radin’s figure fades away, the warrior slashes down into oblivion. The next second, the ghostly assassin’s daggers has already pierced the warrior’s chest from behind.

Blood splatters across the dry earth as the warrior slumps to his side. Blood gushes from the corpse, still hot and saturated with color.

Radin licks the blood from the tip of his dagger, then draws a pistol from his left arm’s sleeve. “Who’s next?”

A group of five engage in combat with my acquaintance. Arrows and bullets miss Radin by inches as they pummel through the air. The Thief advances forward as if riding the wind, he occasionally whirls in his steps, deflecting projectiles with cleaving gale produced by his swift movement.

Radin’s coat tumbles in the air, untouchable at its finest state. He tumbles forward, knocking an Elementalist down to the ground with a swift reverse roundhouse kick. Then, the Thief launches a string from his pistol to draw the Ranger close. The Elementalist blasts a fireball at pointblank, hoping to take Radin out with him. However, the Ranger reluctantly becomes a meat shield in between.

A huge explosion, Radin makes a funny face as he shivers. “Sheesh, can’t imagine how much that would hurt.”

Dropping the two defeated grunts, Radin moves on to finish the other three within combat distance. He sinks his dagger into a Guardian’s shield, but then locked in that position due to the sturdy, defensive nature of the enemy.

“Tch.” The Thief launches a few throwing knives from his utility belts to prevent the other two opponents from closing in. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

Radin lets go of his dagger, gripping the Guardian’s shoulder. I can’t believe my eyes, he agilely swings himself into a handstand on the Guardian’s shoulders, then twists around as he knees his enemy in the spine. And of course, a fancy landing.

That critical strike completely shattered the Guardian, he’s crippled for life now. The remaining two enemies closes in from two directions. Radin whirls in a circle as he launches countless knives at both targets.

He turns to deal with one of the enemies as he removes his trench coat, then Radin tosses his coat at the other opponent, blinding him temporarily.

The Thief sits on his enemy’s shoulders after he leaps into the air, then he spins in a circle utilizing his bodyweight. I think he snapped that warrior’s neck during that acrobatic move he did. Either way, his enemy went down and never moved after that.

The only foe left has finally struggled his way through Radin’s trench coat, the Thief pulls on the trigger of his pistol at pointblank as soon as the enemy recovers his vision. However, the final adversary is a veteran at least.

Radin drops to his hands and establishes a handstand, followed with a well-executed windmill. The attack knocked the shield out of his opponent’s hand. My acquaintance’s relentless effort does not cease, he hurls forward and thrusts his claws directly into the throat of his enemy.

A muffled deathcry, followed by a fountain of blood.

“Of course, especially when he uses that ability to light tails on fire.” I trail off, voice declining in the process.

“If the world has more of them, we don’t have to worry about fuels!” The Guardian exclaims with excitement.

I chuckle nervously, frightened just by the thought of a world full of Elementalist, well, full of Ovanis. Abruptly, Dinky trips over, falling on his face like I did. Before I let out a sigh, I realize there is a tripwire. I don’t even have the time to curse whoever set up the trap, throwing myself at Dinky, tackling him down to the ground completely.

A few darts scratch my back, at least I have my armor on this time. I grasp his wrist, then yank him up to his paws. “Up on your paws! We got fanatics incoming!”

Before we can drop to our fours and sprint away from danger, a group of twenty Flame Legion grunts surround us like a pack of wolves. They already have their weapons ready, I have an intuition that numerous arrows and firearms are aimed at me.

“Out for a late night walk, aren’t we, Legionnaire?” A tall, armored Charr removes his helmet and greets me in person. His hair braided neatly behind his cheek. I can tell he holds an important rank in the Flame Legion. “My name is Kaze, I’m sure you know who I am by now.”

I gape, so he’s the one who sent me the letter. Then I’m facing my worst enemy’s Commander!

“We ain’t scared of you one bit!” Dinky roars, probably deceiving himself more than anything. I can see his hind legs trembling.

“Yes yes, I know of your bravery.” Kaze runs a paw through his dark mane, matching his black fur. His pupils shine like sapphire, an ocean’s chill impacts me as he stare into my eyes. He has an impassive expression, measuring my strength as we speak. “But you know, I just don’t have a thing for idiots like you. We have no need for you, petty Guardian. Kill him!”

I swing my arm up and shield my bandmate. As much as I would love to play the hero, this isn’t the right time nor place. I put on a submissive face. “Oh excuse my little friend here, he’s been hitting the beer too often. He doesn’t mean anything he says.”

Kaze waves his paw as his subordinates lower their weapons. “Well then, judging from your attitude, you have made up your mind? About joining forces with us like any wise Charr would do?”

“What in the—” Dinky almost pushed me over, but I stomp on his paw to silence him.

I give a nervous grin, then pout. “Let’s keep things professional here. My friend has nothing to do with this, wouldn’t it be fair to let him leave, while we continue with our business?”

“You’re cunning, Legionnaire. Like every ounce your Sire has spilled to us.” Kaze walks around me in a circle, treading slowly. “But let’s be real, I want you to disarm yourself completely. Then I will let your little friend take his leave.”

“Boss!” Dinky screams on top of his lungs.

“Shut up!” I retort, then resume my pretentious play. “That wouldn’t be a problem.”

I toss my pistols to the ground, then my rifle followed. Numerous grenades and flasks of elixirs fall within a minute.

“Take it and go.” I turn, then whisper into the ear of my comrade as I pass him the Ghostbore Musket. I give him a good shove for starter, I don’t want him to risk his life pointlessly, at least not for me.

I smile awkwardly, then shrug casually. “Well, gentlecharrs, what do we have to discuss?”

A warrior approaches me from behind and knocks me down with the stock of a rifle. I collapse to the ground, before I push myself up, a paw pins my arm down on the ground. Kaze crouches next to me, pulling on my mane as he brings my head up.

“You really think we’d fall for your trickery? How laughable. I don’t care about your bandmate, as long as you’re alive, we’ll torture you, mutilate you, until the day you decide to give us what we want.” The Commander smirks sinisterly, then shoves my head into the dirt.

I stare into the space in front of me, Dinky’s shadow has disappeared into the night. I sigh with relief, at least I didn’t take a life with me as my end approaches. I wonder what tortuous trials are ahead of me. I’m just glad I didn’t involve another soul in my—

“Oh joy, a late night group walk, splendid choice indeed.” A voice approaches, I can’t believe it. It’s Radin. But this is suicidal, he’s showing himself in front of twenty enemies.

Kaze walks away from me and confronts the Thief. “You?”

It appears they know each other, but Radin doesn’t seem to respond so.

“Just a shadow in the perpetual world of evil.” Radin tilts his head and gives a seemingly amiable smirk.

“Take him out, this Ash Trash can use some lessons.” Kaze snaps his finger, then a single warrior approaches my acquaintance.

“Right, Luccia, please stay with Ovani and make sure he doesn’t smash anything.” I nod, kicking my chair aside and up to my paws.

I swing my particle rifle over my shoulder and slide it into the holder on my back. Then, carrying the Ghostbore Musket in my paws. I run a final check with my pistols and grenades, they’re set and ready.

The darkness of the night devours us as we tread a smooth road toward the Barradin’s Estate. A few Moas flee from us as we sprint on our fours. Dinky is slightly ahead of me, he warns. “I see the Tribunes, they’re here.

I quickly station myself at the designated test site. The three major representatives of the Legions are on the hill above me. Brimstone steps forward and gives me the all-green. I glance across the field as I fix my Musket at the entrance of the ruined estate. The entire mansion is pretty much reduced to dust, I can’t even make out of what the place is, other than people call it the Barradin’s Estate.

Tribune Brimstone releases a terrifying roar, stirring the ghosts within the ruins. I see them charging toward me.

“Charrs are invading! Comrades, to arms! For Ascalon!”

These ghosts sure don’t know when to give up, after death, their obstinate nature is admirable, but annoying. I don’t know how they can be so loyal, I don’t understand what unites these weak living beings. Whatever it is, I’m here to blast them apart!

“Targeted and firing!” I line my eye with the sight, then launch a barrage of enchanted bullets. These ghosts are usually much more tenacious, but they are weakened by my special ammunition and enhanced barrel.

“Dinky, set up my particle rifle, I’ll finish them once and for all.” I call for my bandmate’s assistance. The Guardian removes my other weaponry from my back and begin preparation. I keep all incoming enemies concentrated in groups, a set up for my next surprise.

“Boss, all done here!”

I toss a smoke grenade in front of me, then connect the Ghosbore Musket with my particle rifle. A three rifle long mega launcher becomes the result.

“Synchronization rate increasing at a steady rate, error percentage decreased below two percent. Particle concentration reaches satisfactory.”

“Behold, Tribunes, the true ability of my invention.” I nod at my superiors above, then dig my paws into the ground firmly, pulling the trigger. “Ghostbore Mega-Launcher, now firing!”

A deadly mist of red particles cloud over the muzzle of the launcher, a concentrated orb of scarlet rages, then forms a linear beam, eradicating all matters in its path. The launcher is pushing itself back with its recoil. I’m struggling just to keep the Mega Launcher directed at the enemy.

There are still electricity crackling by the muzzle of my weapon, I quickly withdraw the Ghostbore Musket to prevent a potential overload.

“Simply amazing, soldier.” Tribune Bhuer Goreblade congratulates me, clapping his paws together. “You have made the Iron Legion proud, I’ll personally send a recommendation for you.”

The three Tribunes approach me, I kneel immediately, and Dinky follows. What Goreblade said only worsen my indecisive thoughts in regard of the Flame Legion’s offer. My Legion should be something that I’m proud of, not just a worthless title that can be tossed away.

“We Blood Legion already thought about the use of this new toy, come work under our—”

“Now hold on a minute, Rytlock,” the Ash Legion’s female Tribune interposes swiftly. “My Legion has a better use of that technology than you bruisers.”

Brimstone growls with impatience, tilting his head up to look down at the female Tribune. “I remember the last time Ash tried to handle Iron’s technology, it didn’t end pretty, did it?

“That was an accident, we—”

Tribune Bhuer Goreblade walks up to the two and stands between them, he announces. “It’s our Legion’s Engineer’s design, let him decide.”

I feel like I’m being swallowed slowly, and painfully. The glares the two Tribunes are frightening, as if ravens locking onto their prey. I’m no different than meat at the moment, but I manage to remain solemn. “I would prefer to inspect the prototypes from both the Ash and Blood Legion, if that wouldn’t be much of a trouble.”

“The soldier’s right, let the result talk.” The Ash Legion’s Tribune takes my side.

Brimstone doesn’t look satisfied with my proposal, but he growls an affirmative answer. I hope this doesn’t mean a demotion followed by some inhumane torture. “Fine, meet us at Exterminatus Headquarter tomorrow at thirteen hundred. You better show up, and with your best manner. Dismissed!”

“Sir!” I rise and salute, packing up my equipment with the help of Dinky. As much as I appreciate his help, he has some difficulties when things get more complicated than one plus one.

On the way back to the barrack, Dinky starts to talk about Ovani. “Boss, did you know that Asura can create fire with bare hands?”

“Wow, thanks a lot. I have never met a house ca—I mean Charr this understanding before. Let’s hurry before those hunters find me.” Ovani climbs up my back and sits on my good shoulder.

I don’t even want to start teaching him manners, because he’ll probably have a thousand reasons in store and give me a “get it right” at the end of every one of those irrational sentences.

As soon as I turn into a narrow alley for a shortcut, a Flame Legion Ranger trains an arrow at me. “Don’t move, or you’ll regret it.”

Before I can turn and escape, a Flame Legion Thief cuts me short. The two surround me and close in step by step.

“If you try to shout, your throat would be slit within a second. Don’t try to pull any tricks on us.” The Thief threatens me, keeping his dagger close to his arm.

Ovani leaps down from my shoulder and coughs awkwardly. “Excuse me, but that isn’t—”

“Oh look, a midget trying to act tough.” The Ranger’s wolf approaches with malice, ready to lock its teeth around the Asura’s throat.

“Well, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.” The Asura raises his hands into the air. “Disengaging level seven magic restriction, meteor shower!”

With that, scorching rocks appear out of the thin-air, crashing down at us indiscriminatingly. Comets on fire from a different dimension sure are devastating, especially when I’m within its area of effect!

I dive out of the way, so close to becoming a pile of ash. I think I now understand why the Ash Legion are so fluent in stealth and evasive maneuvers. The Asura walks out from the meteor field like a walk in the park. I try to suppress my anger. “What in the hell were you thinking?!”

“Uh, your—”

“No, not me! You, you almost got me fried back there!” I scream.

“Yea yea, but your—”

“Would have been better off dead by the hands of those Flame Legion fanatics than having you bombard my—”

“Your tail’s on fire.” He speaks in such a flat tone, as if it is no big deal.

I cry out in surprise as I splash another flask of elixir at my burning tail. I swear, I won’t have a tail by the end of the day at this rate. I look back at the alley, the walls are still red as lava from the magic of Ovani. As for those Flame Legion grunts, they probably vaporized.

“You should be thanking me for this, get it right.” Ovani says naively, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

I throw my paws into the air helplessly, then walk on without paying attention to the Asura.

“Hey hey! Don’t ignore me! I’ll set your tail on fire again.”

We somehow make it back to the barrack without me losing my tail, my bandmates quickly surround the little guy with much curiosity. Wait until he threats to light their tails on fire, I think they’ll do fine for now.

I stare at the muzzle of my invention, I cannot help but to fall deep into thoughts, again. My Sire, the person who raised me for roughly fifteen years. He never liked the Iron Legion, but he did love my mother from the bottom of his heart. I guess the only reason he joined the Flame Legion is because my mother died while securing an Iron Legion’s Outpost. The ghosts slashed her down, and I was there to witness the atrocious act. My Sire was enraged, he blamed everything on the Iron Legion. He didn’t take me with him, though, I don’t know why. The next time I heard a word from him was when I was twenty, he asked me to join him and the Flame Legion.

I chuckle at myself, I don’t know why I rejected his offer. I have nothing against my Sire, and loyalty is a cheap virtue these days. I would have accepted the offer back then, if it wasn’t because of my half-constructed warband. I can betray my Legion, but not my warband, the bandmates that placed their faith in me.

Then why force yourself to believe something you don’t want to? You want to get away from war, and reunite with your family. Just forget about your warband, it’s dispensable. A voice, in my head. My eyes widen, I look around but find nothing.

Was that—my voice? My inner self who wants to—just give up? I’m pathetic! Howl died and I haven’t avenged him, and my other bandmates. I won’t just let everything go before I avenge them all!

“Boss, we should prepare to get to the Barradin’s place.” Dinky knocks me out of my daydream.

“Hey hey! I’m talking to you, you defected house cat! I’ll set your tail on fire if you don’t listen!” He dances around my walking paws. I throw my paws into the air as I walk on my hind legs, ignoring the midget’s cry.

Suddenly, I feel intense heat from the tip of my tail. I gasp as I realize this imbecile seriously set my tail on fire with magic. I leap up and down, then spill one of my cleansing elixirs over my tail, screaming while at it. “What the hell is wrong with you, midget?!”

“It’s Ovani, get it right!” He leaps up to one of the fences and stare into my eyes. Ovani’s quite dark-skinned, no different than a ball of charcoal with two amethysts encrusted, glowing green. From what he just did, probably another one of those Elementalists who really have no control over elements whatsoever, other than blasting others with them, of course.

“If you promise to speak in an understandable way, I’ll listen.” I complain, striking a deal with the “sophisticated” Elementalist.

“Fine, you house cats are so brutal without much culture.” Ovani insults, I don’t think he does it intentionally.

“It’s Legionnaire Gadeleza Darkhaze for you.” I groan, checking to make sure my tail is still present and functional. I don’t exactly appreciate falling everywhere due to some Asuras’ sudden interest of lighting people’s tails on fire.

Ovani shakes his head. “What a complicated name, why not just call yourself ‘Haze?’ Get it right for once.”

I feel like bashing this Asura’s flat face in, but I don’t really want to pick a fight with an Elementalist in the open. “Call me whatever you want.”

He opens his mouth, and I know what’s coming out already. I quickly interrupt. “Besides ‘house cat.’”

“Why are you here, Ovani? This is the territory of Charr, are you on political duties or something?” I walk down the main street of the Citadel, toward my barrack for a short break before the weapon test.

He pulls on his robe, a typical type of attire for magicians like him. His voice suddenly lowers. “I’m just an explorer, who might have accidentally blown up a delicate lab and fled from potential bounty hunters.”

“Bounty?!”

“Shh! Just spare me a resting place for a few nights and I’ll pay you. No it’s not bounty, it’s a transaction between two individuals, where one supplies a living being while the other offers items of value or cash. Get it right!” He retorts, with a very illogical train of thoughts that I don’t know how to counter.

I bury my face in my palm once more. I cannot believe the pathetic nature of this Asura, but he’s antic, in a good way. I don’t see the harm of hosting a potentially dangerous time bomb in my barrack, not at all. “Fine, but only a few nights. You can forget about the payment, just don’t wreck my experiments like you did at whatever lab you worked at.”

Chapter 4: Ghostbore Musket

I’m on my way to the higher levels within the Black Citadel, with my Ghostbore Musket, of course. I told Dinky and Luccia to stay behind, partially due to that I don’t want them caught up in any dramatic events. If the Flame Legion is willing to send a hundred Charrs just to slaughter me and obtain the plans, at least let them have only one target.

I arrive at Tribune Brimstone’s office. A considerably large room with a huge window opened to the endless world beyond. I report in immediately. “Legionnaire Gadeleza Darkhaze, reporting in.”

“Ah, speaking of the devil.” The Tribune that spoke to me at the medic camp is present, I believe he goes by the name Bhuer Goreblade.

Rytlock settles in his chair comfortably, opening only one eye to acknowledge my presence. “Soldier, I heard you developed some weaponry worthy of my attention, give me some details.”

“It’s called the Ghostbore Musket, sir. I have arranged a weapon test, it would be an honor for you all to attend” I kneel in front of the Tribunes, requesting supervision.

The two Tribunes exchange a look then nod. Rytlock waves at me with his paw at me casually. “I have already invited two Tribunes from the Ash and Iron Legion, I will be representing the Blood Legion. The test site is at Barradin’s Estate at twenty-one hundred, miss it and your head will be missing as well, understood?”

“Yes sir!” I lower my head and shout an affirmative answer.

“Dismissed.”

I rise to my paws and exit the office. The moment I leave the room, something trips me by my legs. I fall heavily on my face, groaning in pain. I turn to look, since I noticed nothing in front of—

An Asura pushes himself up from the ground, grunting at me. “Well, I would love to collect some new data in regard to the fact how Charrs cannot process objects at a forty-five degree angle of elevation and below from the their standard vision! Get it right!”

“Wh—what?” I never like Asuras, they’re masters of run-on sentences spoken in a different language that’s somewhat similar to English. Either way, I can’t understand a word they say. “You bumped into me, you should be apologizing.”

“Aha! That’s a misconception, the momentum of your body plus the inertia of your mass are the key to your mispositioned body as the result! Of course you can argue that the gravitational force produced by my mass acted as a slight contributing factor in your fall, but that would be sophistry, therefore you’re wrong! Now get it right!”

I don’t think I can take much more of this nonsense, I roll my eyes as I move on from this pointless “argument.” The Asura refuses to give up, he chases after me. These midgets can really use some genetic engineering to gain a few feet.

“Howl was a bandmate of mine, he was my right hand Charr. I had to inform Howl’s wife in regard of his death. She didn’t take it lightly, and wounded me in the process.” I give an exhausted sigh, shaking my head as I close my eyes to meditate.

Luccia gives an understanding nod. Then she shares some stories of her former warband. Dinky occupies himself by chasing a butterfly inside of the barrack. I am half focused on hearing out Wildeye’s story, half conflicting in regard to the Flame Legion’s offer.

I slowly drive myself to my paws after a few hours. I believe my superior would be angry if I delay my assignment any longer. My workbench is filled with random designs. I have a thing for designing, but never followed through on a multitude of them.

Dinky and Luccia have already hit the beds, I know it’s horrible for my body to stay up with so many wounds. I keep a cup of coffee by my side, and a small light above me. Whirling in my leather chair, I’m smoothing the surface of the Musket’s stock. A great weapon deserves a fitting decoration.

“Are Engineers all aloof like you? Tinkering with metals?” A voice from behind. I grab a handful of incendiary powder and activate the blowtorch option of my pistol. “I would rather not have my face burned by some fancy pistol, Mr. Darkhaze.”

I sigh, then drop everything in my hands. I clap my hands to get rid of the powder, then whirls around in my chair with a pair of squinted eyes. “Can you not sneak up on me, then guess correctly at my every attempt to surprise you in return?”

“Well, care for some company?” He pulls up a chair by my side, leaning against his palm with his arm supporting him from my workbench. It’s not like he asked for my permission, I suppose a Thief knows not of manner by nature.

I give up a long breathe, then try in every way possible to focus on my project’s development. “Were you the one who carried me off the street?”

“I have not the slightest clue of what you’re talking about.” Radin takes a few sips from my coffee. He chokes on the drink and spits dramatically. “Ugh! Black coffee?!”

“Can you be quiet? People are sleeping and I’m trying to work.” I rub my forehead with my paw. At this rate, things will get nowhere. Plus I’m in the process of adjusting the ratio between delicate chemicals for the ammunition of—

“The Flame Legion gave you an offer, no?”

The flask explodes in my face, my hand trembles like crazy. The chemicals are spilled everywhere. Radin’s expression has quickly morphed from a casual gimmick to a fatal smirk. “Caught—red handed?”

My eyes bulge as I turn my head to my frightening companion. He refuses to spare me any break. “Dark times call for desperate measures? The loss of your bandmates, being lost in the constant warfare. You don’t want this, you were never meant for war.”

“I—was never meant for war?” My limbs freeze in place, I gape after stammering my question.

He crosses his legs then snaps his finger as he squints. Radin’s blade-like eyes fill the two sockets like possessed obsidians. I lower my gaze from his face, spotting an amulet glowing in red, it wasn’t gleaming in the daylight. “You are sentimental, something Charr shouldn’t be. You’re an Engineer, only because you’re too weak to specialize in anything other than replying on machines. Am I wrong, Gadeleza Darkhaze?”

He leaps toward the coffee machine after he finishes my entire cup, apparently he was just acting from before. I sit in my chair, wordless. I return to work on my Musket, recreating the chemicals that I spilled. Radin returns with a full cup of liquid, he places it in front of me, stopping my work progress. My visitor’s muzzle brushes against my cheek, he whispers. “Think about what you really want to do, Gadeleza. What is your life’s calling besides the innate duty of Charr.”

“What are you, really?” I turn my head slightly as he retreats.

“Just another shadow in the perpetual world of evil. Sorry about dumping water on you last time, I’ll use the doors this time.” Radin taps me on the shoulder, then salutes to me in a stylish way with a playful smile.

I don’t even bother to turn and check on him. He’s gone, like the shadow he infused with since birth. But the things he said, I don’t know if I can even finish this project before morning. The coffee he made me, I don’t even bother with a poison test as I take everything down in one shot.

Oh my Charr, it’s tea! What a disgrace! I’m going to need to brush my teeth, this is ridiculous. I don’t remember keeping any tea-making material in this barrack. He must have bought it all along, what a calculating Thief. Suddenly, I notice that a note is attached to the teabag, I flatten it on the workbench, it reads “We’re alike, in a lot of ways.”

“I—I won’t fall for your—”

I interrupt Aaron as I hand her the wolf amulet from my pocket. “He would want you to have this.”

“That’s—that’s his amulet.”

“Yea, the gift I gave him on the day he entered my warband.” I make a fist, only because my overwhelming emotions are crushing through my last gate of defense. Tears stream down my cheek as I try to speak without cracking my voice. “It was a promise—that I would keep him alive—as a friend—as a comrade! I failed him—so even if he died, live on for him!”

She crumbles away, the pistol falls by my head, with its muzzle pointing at me. Her woe is my guilt, and my guilt has become the reason for me to live on. I slowly get on my knees and kneel in front of Aaron, pressing my forehead softly against earth. “I don’t ask for forgiveness, but accept my apology. I’m truly sorry.”

I pick up my pistol and leave the house. I hope I don’t ever have to set paw on this place again. Not because I detest it, but I have no longer has to courage to touch such a delicate land, filled with anguish.

My shoulder bleeds as I march toward the Citadel, leaving behind a trail of blood. I feel weak, but I don’t want to patch the wound. It’s a scar that I should leave it as it is, it’s the mark for my mistake. People gawk at me, but I keep my eyes forward, with my body breaking down. With all the existing wounds, I—

My legs give, I sink to my knees. Before I can even bring my hands to brace to fall, I slump to the ground on my stomach. I see a set of paws approaching me as my eyes begin to shut. A pair of bare paws, with navy fur…

“No!” I scream, waking up.

“Ah!” Dinky falls from his chair by my bed, I suppose it’s a good payback.

I’m back at the barrack, and it’s daylight outside. Wildeye pushes me back into my bed and scowls. “Seriously, what were you thinking bleeding out in the streets? If it wasn’t for that stranger, you would have been dead.”

“Would have been better.” I whisper to myself, then my mind snaps back to place. “Wait, who’s this stranger?”

“An Ash Legion member, at least he calls himself that.” Dinky slowly jumps back into his chair. He rubs his chin, then scratches his head. “Boss, what were you doing out there? You bled so much in the road.”

I reach into my pants, then pulling out the note I received from the dove earlier. I don’t feel like answering questions, I need an escape from all this.

Dear: Gadeleza Darkhaze

As a Commander of the Flame Legion, I found your accomplishment quite impressive. I’m willing to offer you the rank of Major in our forces if you supply us with the Ghostbore Musket’s plan. I have no intention of deceiving you, since your Sire recommended you to us to begin with. You’ll find plenty of opportunities to contact us, and remember, we’re watching you closely.
Sincerely,
Kaze

“Boss, what’s that note?” Dinky extends his head toward my shoulder.

“It—it’s nothing.” I stammer, then quickly shove the note into my pocket. Wait, why am I nervous? Why am I hiding this? Do I really—do I really plan on betraying my Legion? Just because my Sire’s a treacherous shaman?

Luccia passes a cold towel to my head, replacing the warm one. She touches my shoulder, examining my wound closely. “Minor infection, and a mild fever. You’ll be fine, cub.”

“One of the Tribunes dropped by and left you a message. They want you to build a working Ghostbore Musket then bring it to Brimstone personally.” Dinky rocks in his chair, risking falling over again, but being simpleminded has its merits.

“Cub, tell me what happened, I want to hear you out.” Luccia insists. She reminds me of my mother, the kind face, the soft muzzle, and the wide eyes. Her gaze becomes tender, stroking the fur on my wounded shoulder with caresses.

Unlike regular glue shots, the ammunition packs incendiary powder, along with enhanced piercing coating. I only know about this due to the fact that I’m an Engineer. It takes some serious skills to produce ammos like this.

“You cowards, keep hiding behind that old hag while you can!” The enemies are withdrawing, throwing some random insults while they can. I think they are spitting out the glue as they talk, well deserved indeed.

“Boss! Are you—your arm’s bleeding.” Dinky and I reunite by Luccia’s side.

I patch my wound with a bandage, the blood will have to be washed later. “I’m okay, but Luccia, that was impressive. I can use a capable weaponsmith in my warband, interested?”

“Interested? I’m desperate at this rate, count me in!” Wildeye gives an excited shout, then falls deep in thoughts. “But why did the Flame Legion know you’re here? And how did they know you have the plan?”

I keep pressure on my wounded arm with my free hand, sitting down at an empty barrel. “It isn’t the first time. Someone in the Citadel is leaking information to the Flame Legion. They want my plans, and they want me silenced.”

“Traitor, huh? Not an uncommon role in the world of Charr.” Wildeye agrees, then pat me on the shoulder. “You fight well, and bravely. I take back what I said about you.”

I manage a smile. “You guys go ahead and head back to the barrack, I need—to take care of some stuff.”

Much occupy my mind, I tread alone in a rocky path. A dove lands on my shoulder, carrying a message on its leg. I retrieve the note and set the bird free. Having no intention in opening it, I let me mind free of burden.

I still have to return Howl’s Amulet back to his wife, I want to do it myself. I’m once again envious, if I had someone who cared about me enough—perhaps I would find another purpose in life, other than a heartless war machine.

Smokestead’s light illuminates the night. It isn’t the first time I find myself walking the path to Howl’s house. The garden he tended and was very proud of remains, I claw through the rough dirt as I recollect the memories. He had a thing for farming, and vegetables.

I dwell a bit in front of the house, the light within is seductive, and the harsh night’s nothing but a hostile host. A small cub grabs onto my leg, I know him.

“Hey, cub.”

“Uncle Leza, guess what? I can swing a greatsword already! I want to be just as great as my dad!”

That pricks my heart, I couldn’t even protect a cub’s father. I’m a failure as a bandchief. Anything but here, I need to leave before my veins burst from embarrassment. I cannot look in the eyes of such an innocent cub, I’m a criminal who denied him a father.

“Leza? It is you, dropping by?” A female Charr approaches me just when I prepare to flee from the scene. I grit my teeth as I force myself to turn to the scarlet-furred Charr. She stops in front of me, then crouches at the cub’s paws. “Nieve, go play in the house, it’s dark out.”

“Aw, okay.” The cub runs pass us, almost tripping.

“So what’s wrong?” She blinks a few times, curious of what I have in store.

I gape, then gulp. “In the Battle of Smokestead yesterday, Howl fought bravely against the ghosts. But, fate was not by his side, he was a Charr until the very end. I am sorry that I couldn’t save him, I take full respons—”

“No,” tears are in her eyes as she sobs. The fragile Charr in front of me has become more delicate than ever. Knowing myself being the cause of all this, I cannot speak but stand still. “Don’t—tell me.”

“Howl’s death has been confirmed, I’m sorry.” I look away, she growls with anger as she tackles me down to the ground. She weeps, then locks her teeth around my shoulder, a numbing pain. I open my muzzle to growl, but I keep it shut, I have no right.

“Give him back to me!” She locks her paw around my throat, keeping me down with her bodyweight then steals my pistol from my belt. There is a considerable amount of blood around her muzzle, I suppose the fresh wound on my shoulder is quite severe.

“If shooting me will make you feel better—then do it, Aaron.” I do not struggle, and I speak of the truth. My arms go still by my sides, I don’t have any reason to defend myself. Howl was my bandmate, he lost his life, because of me. I’m a sinner beyond redemption, but the world goes on, and I must fight as long as I exist.

“Dinky, think you can stay awake without coffee for a few more hours?”

“Ya bet.”

A really abandoned place, I don’t think I will find anything more shabby than this even in the antique books. The place’s full with metal scraps, and it will probably take more than a year to clean things up for an outpost.

Speaking of which, if it isn’t because of the stupid budget cut, I wouldn’t be digging through garbage to get what I need. Seriously, war expenses are overwhelming. No wonder why we keep conquering lands, at this rate, the world’s resources are going—

“Lad! Watch where you’re walkin’, or a rusted nail’s gonna give you a good infection for a month!” A loud voice, projected from a female Charr. I never had a thing for loud-mouths, so I guess another pass it is.

“Luccia! It’s been forever!” Dinky exclaims, then embracing the female Charr. For some reason, he raises his voice by quite a lot as well.

“Oh hey! Cub, how has it been going for you? I remember the first day you held a shield, you could barely stand!” Luccia gives a huge grin.

“Uh, hello.” I greet awkwardly.

Dinky quickly stands between us, then point to me with a finger. “This is my bandchief, Gadeleza.”

“Luccia Wildeye, at your service.” The blond-furred Charr nods firmly. Then she walks around me, studying closely. “So you’re a leader, I can’t see it in you, though.”

I grin forcefully, then compliment in return. “Dinky’s one of my indispensable bandmates, you trained him well.”

“As an instructor, that’s my duty. Now what are you lads doing in this No-Charr’s Land tonight?”

“For material supply reasons.”

“For mating summer seasons?!” Luccia gasps, blinking rapidly at me. Her expression slowly morphs into a cunning grin. “Ah, I see, who’s the dominant one?”

I ram my head into my palm, then begin to explain to her how she needs to fix her ears.

“Luccia, my Boss said ‘material supply reasons!’” Dinky raises his voice, then turns to me and shrugs. “She has hearing problems.”

Wildeye snaps her fingers and laughs in an apologetic way. “Oh sorry lads. Years of artillery firing got my hearing pretty much destroyed. If it’s materials you look for, they’re around here somewhere, I’m sure you can find them.”

Dinky and I proceed to search for rifle parts needed for my Musket invention. The scraps are ample, but items of actual use aren’t. Then there are Oozes everywhere, and rats. They might as well bomb the whole place if they want to ever reuse this place for something other than a dumping ground.

Wait, what’s with those armored Charrs coming this way in red? I suppose they are Blood Legion members. Then they draw close, I find my nightmare becoming reality. They are from the Flame Legion!

One of the Blademaster of Blood Legion approaches us. “I know you have the Musket’s plans, you Ironscrap. You took us by surprise in the barracks, I’ll make sure you pay for that!”

“Cover me, these punks are going down!” Wildeye takes command. I jump in front of the old Charr and stand back to back with Dinky.

There aren’t much room for me to maneuver, and turrets are too time consuming to build. This is the worst situation possible. The Blademaster charges at us, breaking our stand. Almost immediately, an enemy hurls at me with a greatsword.

Melee disables my range advantage, I defend myself with a wrench. As I have described, close-quarter is the worst nightmare for me. I take a few hits from the sword, then retaliates with my wrench.

“Ha! Have to do better than that!” The Blademaster dodges my assault swiftly, then counterattacks with a deadly swipe. I leap back to avoid the slash, but my unarmored arm was caught. The tip of the blade scratches my upper arm, drawing blood.

“Oh I think you’re bleeding,” my adversary mocks with a sardonic laugh. “You Engineers are worthless when it comes to Melee, aren’t you?!”

Wildeye cries in a distance. “Just a few more seconds!”

“Now just die so I can take the plan!” The Blademaster aims his sword and thrusts it forward. I grab my gear shield and deflect the attack. Riding the motion, I whirl around and bashes the shield into my opponent’s face.

“Take this, you punks!” A glue shot blasts across the entire area, I shelter myself with my shield, Dinky does the same.

Chapter 3: Scrapyard Dogs
“You’re late, Dinky.” I remark. I really don’t mind if a Charr’s punctual or not, as long as he or she can fight well. I’m already settled in at the Trapper’s Bar, the one and only bar in Smokestead. Dinky swiftly leaps into the chair next to me, then pants like a dog.

“Are you alright? Where were you?” I create a whirlpool in my glass of wine, slightly concerned.

“Tori’s still in the hospital, I had to visit him.” Dinky orders for a non-alcoholic drink. Then look down at the bar table.

I yawn as I sip my wine leisurely. Anyone who takes an entire bottle of wine in one shot is a disgrace to us alcoholics. The drink’s made to be cherished, not for some half-rear showoff to waste. I close an eye as I ask. “How long have you two been mated again?”

“Five months, and the ritual manager told me I would screw things up within three months. Ha, in his face.” Dinky laughs, somewhat less stressed than before.

“I envy you. I just don’t have your luck when it comes to romance.”

“Boss, females are more picky, don’t blame yourself. Plus, if you just want cubs, you can always—”

“That’s the thing,” I exclaim, sighing dryly as I glance at my bandmate. “If it’s just reproducing, I could have gotten several cubs already. But I want to find that special someone.”

“Well, I just want whatever makes me feel good. I’m no good when it comes to thinking hard.”

I punch him softly on the rib, then curse. kitten it, teach me how to be simple like you.”

The night of Smokestead glows in the eternal shadows as an endless light show. I stare into the distant fire, torches by the streets. The scent of a cooked boar wakes me from the sceneries and brings the hunger of my stomach to surface.

“So how’s Tori doing?” I fiddle with my glass, breaking the stale ice.

“The doctors say there’s nothing life threatening, he should recover within a week or so. I just can’t take my mind off him, he took a blast for me during the battle yesterday.” Dinky sighs, then drowns his regret in his drink.

“Well, tonight’s a bit late for a visit to the scrapyard. Feel free to get wasted and—”

“Harpies! Every available Charr is to reinforce the Smokestead outskirt! I repeat…”

“Never mind about what I said.” I chuckle bitterly.

I slam some coins onto the desk and take off. Those birds love to screw with people for no apparent reasons. Anything that aren’t secured are treasure in those thieves’ eyes.

Motars are already blasting away at the mutated birds, the battle takes place very close to the entrance to Smokestead. Smoke fills the area, I can’t see what I’m shooting at. Rain of blade-sharp feathers hurls at us, Dinky dashes ahead of me and creates a force field.

“Dinky, hold them off, I’ll charge the particle rifle.” I order, pulling my rifle from my back. Again, I design this weapon. The Citadel requested for its blueprint many times in the past, but I try not to be too “contributive.”

A double chamber rifle, the stock expands to be a ballista’s support. The top chamber tumbles forward, connecting with the bottom chamber to form an extremely long barrel.

“I need some back up!” Dinky howls in a distance.

“Better save your head!” I give a warning, then load my pistol with a strange satchel, like a mini-rocket launcher. The object soars into the air above the combat zone, then explodes as it showers what’s below with infinite amount of shrapnels.

I don’t know if he survived or not, but I have to focus on repelling the harpies. I pull the trigger on the particle rifle as it launches me back with extreme recoil. The dirt on the ground vaporizes as a thick particle beam pummels through the air and wipe out a large portion of the harpies. Retrieving the rifle, I hurry toward the wrecked field of death.

“Dinky?!” I shout, pulling my goggles over my eyes for a better vision in the thick dust. “Don’t you freaking die on me, I won’t—”

“Boss!” He emerges from behind a rock, unscratched.

I sigh with relief, then draw my pistols in case there are any hostile beings. My comrade waves his paw at me. “Don’t worry, they’re falling back. We’re safe.”

“You got me worried, you silly kitten.”

The breeze brushes the unclean dust away, leaving giant holes in the ground. I sit on the burned ground and yawn. “When will these harpies give up?”

“I hear they plan to put up some rocket turrets on the walls. That’s gonna help.”

Fixing my gaze at the Gunbreach Hills, I see smokes rising from within. I guess the Scrapyard isn’t a barren place for ghosts to roam after all. I’m all fired up from the battle, it wouldn’t hurt to just get the materials I need and call it a day.

I’m glad you enjoyed it. Feel free to follow the thread, I plan on keep writing.

As much as I hate to get wasted when I have an assignment to carry out. Oh to the hell with it, here goes nothing. Before I just flush everything down my throat, I realized the bottle’s filled with water. Before I say anything, Radin begins to clap. “Bravo, now that’s what I’m talking about.”

I get the implication, then I express my gratitude silently. I suppose Radin’s quite a considerate Charr, that’s rare for my kind. “Hey, you got a warband you belong to?”

“Is this a recruitment?” Radin looks through the eye of his bottle, pretending to be silly and inattentive.

“No,” I shake my head, then stare into my companion’s eyes sincerely. “It’s a plea.”

He leans back and crosses his legs femininely, then tilts his head in a strange angle. “Why?”

“My warband was decimated during the Battle of Smokestead from yesterday. I lost some good Charrs out there, and some indispensable friends.”

“Say no more, I’ll consider your offer,” replies the Thief. He whips his tail around and departs. “I will be watching you, Gadeleza Darkhaze. Then I’ll decide.”

A smoke bomb goes off, then Radin is gone without a trace. I gaze wistfully at the light outside, the blazing Sun’s judgment of Earth. Something subtle has changed in the wind, so gracefu—

Water befalls on me, soaking me completely. The smoke alarm has gone off, because of that fancy exit of Radin’s. My cheek twitches slightly, then I press my palm against my face, sighing helplessly. I may want to take back the “considerate” label that I have given to Radin.

I hit the shower, since I’m already half-soaked thanks to some fancy Thief. The water heats up gradually, I kick off my clothes and stand silently in the curtain of liquid. Staring at the floor, I watch a pool of scarlet slowly form by my paws, then drift into the sink.

Stroking my fur, I try to remove all the excessive items caked into my delicate coat. I wonder what it is like to be human, they seem to have an easier time with bathing. Since they’re completely naked without any sort of protection, and I always wonder how the hell do they walk without tails? They must have some advanced device that allows them to do so. That’s something I should look into.

I drop to my fours and shake violently, I suppose showering is one of life’s most enjoyable moments. I turn the shower off with my tail, then wrap a towel around my waist. Grabbing my watch with haste, it’s seventeen-thirty. I sigh with relief as I contemplate what will happen next. Right now, what’s motivating me forward in life are the endless orders of the Citadel, nothing more.

“A target this vulnerable, I don’t even feel like taking the kill.” A voice by my side. I’m too overwhelmed to even turn my head. From his scent, I think I know who he is.

“Radin?” I chuckle, half afraid. I reach for my toobelt and hold a flask of acidic chemical in my hidden hand. “So the Ash Legion’s interested in this plan of mine as well?”

He doesn’t reply, but smiles. “ And if the we are?”

“Well, I can’t exactly put up a fight here, just make it quick.” I shrug.

A burst of laughter, then he takes the seat across from me, it is Radin after all. His navy-colored fur flows in the breeze. He has short horns, and soft features. I would believe he is a female if it isn’t because of his scent and voice. He waves his paw at me with a playful smirk. “I don’t exactly want acid in my face, Mr. Engineer.”

“You noticed?” I raise an eyebrow, surprised.

“We Thieves are keen with our eyes, at least I believe so.” He points at a set of armor to my right, then nods at me. “Those are yours, you forgot them at the medic camp. I watched you fight a moment ago, I have to say you are quite reckless for an Engineer.”

Radin has a light trench coat covering him from neck to toe, then a hood on his back. Thick, dark-blue mane stems from the top of his head all the way into the coat. He leaves his coat open, exposing the majority his lean, but muscular torso. Then a few utility belts criss-cross around his waist, finished with dark pants. No shoes nor gloves, he’s quite the nature-appreciator. The dark shade of his attire’s theme suggests his very nature, at least from my opinion. His soft, gray eyes glitter in the dim light, a complete different aura than my crimson ones. A much more lethal, insidious, and lifeless glow.

“Where’s the fee for the firework? I didn’t blow things up for free, you know?” I joke, sighing with relief.

He produces two bottles from the inside of his coat. “The drink you promised, forgot?”

“Feeding alcohol to a wounded Charr, you sure know your stuff, doctor.”

“Oh loosen up, we go in and out of the battlefield without knowing when will our lives cease.” Radin consume the content of his bottle in one shot, then points a claw at me. “Your turn, better show me if you’re really made of Iron, my fellow Charr of Iron Legion.”

I shut my eyes tight as a bright radiance blinds our enemies. Eyes wide open the next second, Dinky has already cut down one of the warriors, then he tackles the one close to me to the ground.

I produce a mini-grenade from my toolbelt, then shove it down my struggling opponent’s throat. “Dinky, stand clear!”

The Guardian quickly withdraws from his prey, taking cover with me. My victim’s torso completely explodes, sending shreds of flesh and bones in all directions.

“Well, gutted and roasted, but just not me.” I bandage my slightly wounded stomach, then moves toward the barrack once more.

Dinky squats next to me, apologizing. “Sorry Boss, if I reacted faster, you wouldn’t have been—”

I hold up my paw, motioning him to be quiet. I proceed to plant mines around the entrances of the barrack. I grew up playing with mines, since ghosts were a constant threat. I protected my home when I was a cub with these explosives. It’s always fun to stand in a distance, then watch enemies charging toward me and vaporize into dust as they step on my mine field.

“Dinky, set it up on the other side.” I order as I hand him a completed rifle turret.

He stares at the large chunk of metal and ponders. “How to work these things?”

“Just put it on the ground and press the red button on the top.” I sigh as I smack a net turret into shape with my wrench.

All set, now just the fish for me to fry. Dinky charges into the barrack and gives a shout. “Hey! You Flame Legion idiots! I have the plan, come and get me!”

Bullets followed immediately, Dinky creates a force field with his shield, then dashes out from the barrack. I’m so glad he didn’t accidentally step on one of the mines, they hurt, a lot.

I cover my ears with two paws, Dinky does the same. All I feel is constant earthquakes, the ground shakes so horribly, I crouch to balance myself. After half a minute of explosions, I return to the barrack with my comrade.

The earth painted black from the explosives, with bloody limbs of Charrs scattered across the field. Nets are still sparkling with electricity, frying the corpses of the Flame Legion members. The numerous empty shells of bullets by the rifle turret’s side are still hot. A festival of scarlet blood and charcoal black, as long as it gets the job done, I can care less.

The interior of the barrack remains intact, thankfully. I locate the plant holder and retrieve the plan. I suppose these fanatics can use some better brains. The lighting is quite poor, but sufficient for me to see.

“Our next stop will be the scrapyard, I’ll find the materials I need for building the Musket.” I mumble as I grip the plan in my hand. I settle down in a chair nearby, then whisper lightly. “I need a break, you’re off duty until eighteen hundred, understood?”

“Yes Boss, are we meeting at the usual spot?” Dinky tilts his head.

I nod, then witness his shadow disappear around the corner of the barrack’s entrance. Instantly, I throw myself to the desk nearby, vomiting blood violently. I guess I can’t hide it forever, the blade that pierced my pelt earlier was poisoned. Even with the antidote I took in secret, the poison’s still quite strong.

I don’t want to concern Dinky, despite his simpleminded nature, he can use a break from all the bloodshed. Within, I know he feels terrible from the battle yesterday, I don’t want to burden him with any additional thoughts.

“So what happened to Reeva?” I start.

Dinky kicks a can on the ground as he explains with sorrow. “She was surrounded after some moron broke our formation, I tried to help her but—”

“I see,” I nod. Despite how I perfect my callous persona, I can hear the shattering sound of my heart. Reeva was the only female in the warband, I never mounted enough courage to have a serious conversation with her, I wanted her to bear my children. I guess I’ll never get the chance now.

“Then Maverick charged into a group of ghosts, like always. I didn’t see him after that. I got his amulet back, here.” Dinky passes a silver amulet shaped like a wolf’s head to me. I take the trinket into my paw, then make a fist and place it close to my heart.

“He’s the bravest, for sure. He had a wife with a child, I better return this to them.” I sigh as I imagine the remorse in Maverick’s family’s eyes. Now I really think just dying off in battle would be better than living on with tales of anguish.

“Aw, Boss, I didn’t mean to—”

I hold up a paw, shaking my head with a weak smile. “I know, and I wouldn’t want you to live on with my legacy if something happens to me.”

“Boss…”

“It hurts, it really does.” I hold my tears back, Charr’s tear is precious, very expensive indeed.

Dinky shrugs, then he makes a random comment. “Howl never left that shiny stone for me, either. He lost it to me in our last card game. Stinker.”

For some reason, I find that hilarious, and a good way for me to set my mind off from the sadness. I bump into Dinker with my left arm and chuckles. “You and your card games, didn’t I tell you all to quit it?”

“We gotta have some fun, come on Boss.” Dinky pouts, then puts something into his armor’s slots.

“I saw that,” I glance casually. “I was wondering where did my coins go that one morning.”

“The first round tonight’s on me, cool?”

I give him a slap on the back, half joking. “I may not have a perfect aim, but my eyes work fine, don’t try the sneaky stuff on me, hear me?”

“You got it, Boss.”

A barrack is ahead, I wonder where are the guards. Usually this place is packed with idle bystanders. I hold up a paw, then quickly crouches next to the side of my barrack. I peer from the edge of the building, confirming my suspicion.

“Flame Legion dogs, tons of them.” I whisper. Then Dinky whips his sword and shield out, ready to lunge in. “Hold it! Hold it, I don’t have my armor on and there are too many of them. Reinforcement won’t arrive in time, they probably got their eyes on my plans for the Musket. We need to stop them, but not charging in.

“Watch out!” Dinky slams his shield as it deflects an incoming slash. There are two Flame Legion warriors sneaking up on us. kitten it, I’m too focused on taking in the barrack’s interior. One of the enemies wraps an arm around my throat and presses the tip of a dagger against my exposed abdomen. Dinky has taken the other warrior into hostage, pressing his blade against the vulnerable warrior’s throat.

Flame Legion is an opposing force against the three main Legions. Iron, Ash, and Blood Legions all aim to destroy the Flame Legion. It worships fire more than anything, a group of fanatics if you ask me. I suppose they’re getting bothered by ghosts of Ascalon, as well; we are all Charrs, after all.

“Tell us where the plan for the Ghostbore Musket is, and I’ll just leave a scar.” The warrior that has me hostage threatens.

“You let him go, or I’ll kill your comrade!” Dinky snarls in reply, pushing his blade closer to the Flame Legion member’s throat.

I slowly reach into my pants’ pocket, then laugh nervously. “Oh come on guys, we’re all Charrs, we can work this out.”

“Don’t try to stall! I’ll give you five seconds, then your corpse will be gutted and roasted.”

I use my tail to remove the ring on the grenade in my hand. I try to move sluggishly, just in case these fire-loving kittens are more observant than they look.

Ow ow, the blade is cutting into me by a bit. Blood seeps from my stomach, dying my fur red. A popping sound, then I shout. “Dinky!”

“Got ya Boss!” While our opponents are in a state of confusion, a flash grenade has already landed in front of me, courtesy of my flexible tail.

Chapter 2: Best Laid Plans

“Boss, Boss!” A Charr shouts in my face, so close that he can kiss me.

“Ah!” I snap awake from my dream, falling off my bed in the medic camp within Smokestead. I suppose this strategic point has been established. Now, that Charr who doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. “Who are you?”

“Boss you’re alive!” He throws his arm around me, embracing my bare torso wrapped in a few bandages. I stretch out my arms awkwardly, not sure what to say. Either way, recovering from battle is one thing, having an unstable Charr harassing me is another.

I rub my eyes softly, then take a good look at this zealous Charr. I realize he’s my first bandmate—Dinky. He’s the smallest in his family, like me. Regardless, he is still stronger than me physically, being a Guardian. He trained hard, much harder than I did to compensate for his build. I’m simply not as diligent as he is. He’s covered in heavy plate armor, I wish I had his endurance to carry so much weight. Despite that, his battle harness leaves half of his torso exposed, I never understood why wear heavy armor when it exposes more skin than a robe made of cloth?

“Glad to see you, where’s Howl?” I shake my head a few times, might have gotten concussion from that fall from my bed.

Dinky’s face goes dark. I stare at it for a few seconds, then grab his shoulders firmly with my paws, I drag my words out. “You saw—him go?”

“When the crypt went down, he got caught in the rocks, poor Howl.” Dinky looks away, offering a silent prayer.

“He was a good Charr, I’ll miss him.” I point my muzzle to the ground, heartbroken. I hate this as well, why would someone worthless like me keep leeching away at others’ lives to survive? I don’t deserve this, and this isn’t the first time—

“Officer on site!” A Charr roars.

I scramble to my paws, almost falling due to my wounds. Dinky helps me up and stands at attention. A dark-furred Charr approaches, according to his uniform, a Tribune. He skips around the wounded soldiers and heads directly at me. “At ease, soldier. You should worry about your wounds more than formality at this rate. Your warband was brave during the ghost incursion, but had sacrifices nevertheless. You have the Citadel’s and my thanks.”

“Thank you, Tribune,” I cross my chest with an arm and bow my head. “It will take some time for me to rebuild my warband, but if there are anything I can be of use, give the orders.”

The Tribune smiles and nods proudly. “That’s the spirit, the Iron Legion can use more of your kind. Speaking of the Legion, we’re depending quite a lot on its technological innovations. I hear a relatively new product is hot in the smith.”

“That is correct, Tribune,” say I, then explain. “ The new weaponry is known as the ‘Ghostbore Musket,’ a firearm that can effectively eradicate the ghosts. I happen to be the developer of this firearm.”

“I have read about that proposal, the Citadel has high hope for your invention.” The Tribune gives an affirmative grin, then leans against one of the beds in the camp. “I happen to arrive today with some good news. We have promoted you to acting legionnaire, do well and it will be permanent.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

“We expect no less.” The officer salutes to me, then takes off in the opposite direction.

I’m still in a foul mood from Howl’s death. Promotion doesn’t change the atmosphere the slightest. Plus, a higher rank means more diplomatic affairs, politics are never my thing. But I’m pretty sure Brimstone has something to do with this promotion, the last thing I want is to tick off a Charr like him.

“Boss, let’s go grab the plans for the Musket. I’ll fill you in on the other members as we go.”

I nod painfully, then force myself to walk toward the Hero’s Canton. It’s the barrack where my warband and I sleep. I hid my plans away in a plant holder, for some reason, I don’t trust the security of the Black Citadel.

“Watch out!” I shout, then throw myself at the Tribune to ram him out of the way. Then, the next thing I feel is a terrible pain to my side, then a few seconds of flight, finished with a harsh landing and a short slide.

I think I’m seeing stars, while my ribs are crying. I can’t feel my limbs, hoping they’re still intact. It was a stone hammer, that got me good in the side.

I try to jump back on my paws, but something paralyzes me. Maybe a few bones are broken, but I hope nothing worse than that, since I find it hard to breath. We Charr has a very high pain-tolerance, it sure can be a bad thing at times.

Come to think of it, it isn’t a bad way to go. I hate my job, and I hate my life as a Charr. I might as well let it end this way, it’s much better than having my head chopped—

“Don’t move, I’m healing you. Your diaphragm is damaged, I’ll repair it with magic. Hold still.” A whisper at my ears, I hope it’s not my imagination.

“Up on your paws soldier!” Rytlock shouts in a distance. Wait, what was I thinking? Some heroic imbecile that thrives on pointless sacrifice? Especially for a jerk like Brimstone?

I sit up from the floor, feeling a bit better but still not in the shape for front line combat. I don’t plan to sit out, either. I grab a few incendiary grenades and remove the rings with my teeth, then toss them as hard as I can at the cursed statue.

I hope no one shouts “Friendly Fire,” otherwise I would really start to hate my job. Luckily, no such words are spoken, I can see the statue weakening. The energy within are more exposed now, the rocks that shield the core are gradually decaying with our attacks.

A bright explosion, the statue closes in on itself like a blackhole, then bursts. A horrifying howl that almost shattered my eardrums, but at least it comes with the sign of victory. Speaking of which, my teeth hurt from pulling on the rings. The entire crypt is unstable with the unstable energy of the ghost. The Tribune calls for retreat as the tomb begins to cave in on itself.

“Scouts! Give the word that mission’s complete, die running or get the message through, hear me?!” The Tribune shouts as he charges toward me, in full retreat.

“Sir!” A distant reply. I’m in no shape to even walk, I guess I’ll have my final moment with these silly rocks. Not a bad way to—

“Now we’re even.” Rytlock grabs me by the waist and carries me like a sandbag, a light sandbag while at it.

“Sir, you don’t—”

“Shut up or I’ll leave you here for real.”

“Yes, sir.” I grin bitterly. I guess this legendary Charr isn’t that callous after all, but I really need to save some brain cells if I don’t want to kick the bucket before reaching a medic camp. Looking back at the collapsing crypt, I guess this is another day of Victory for us Charrs. Once again, I must wonder what’s the point of all this? For some non-existing pride? I don’t know, and I guess I don’t want to either. As a soldier, these questions shouldn’t be anywhere near my head.

And oh, Rytlock smells like a wet Rock Dog.

“Sir, I replaced the original agent, he is wounded by the barricades,” I reply as I kneel, I think this is the legendary Tribune Rytlock Brimstone. I hope he’s not one of those arrogant, ruthless, unintelli—

He growls softly, but with malice nevertheless. “Weakling, who assigned such an imbecile to my unit anyway? Those politicians need to have their heads knocked against these Ascalonian scums’ graves to wake the hell up.”

Yep—everything I expected from a legendary figure. The soldier back at the barricade must be pretty hurt if he hears this strings of “compliments,” if he is still alive, that is.

“You better not be one of those weaklings, or I’ll personally thrust a blade through your chest from behind,” Brimstone sneers disdainfully as he rushes into the deepest cell of the crypt.

Well, now I have more than just my enemies to worry about. I understand that legendary figures are suppose to have unique personalities, but this is just nowhere ne—

A cry, by Rytlock. The moment we enter the room, ghosts swamp toward us like mosquitoes.

“Defensive formation! We’ll outlast these scums and lure Barradin out!” The Tribune commands.

Barradin was a duke of Ascalon, I heard that he is responsible for the recent commotions around Smokestead. I really don’t have anything against these ghosts, but they tend to appear out of nowhere and attack every Charr they see. I suppose being a certain race has some destined rivals.

Oh right, defensive formation. I drop to the ground and construct turrets. Calibration is one thing, maintenance can be a royal pain when it comes to these machines. Within a minute, I have deployed several turrets on site.

“Take cover behind the turrets and use ranged weapons!” Rytlock and his unit establish a parameter behind my turrets. I monitor the situation and occasionally fire a few rounds with my pistol, the enemies are suppressing us with a surplus of firepower. I have no choice but to keep my head tugged in behind the turrets.

An Ascalonian warrior rushes toward us, bypassed the turrets with his shield. The Tribune roars, “Newcomer, take him out!”

“Roger.” I swing my wrench into motion. I hate melee, and I hate whoever forces me into melee. Concluding, I hate my job. With that attitude, I manage a surprise strike with the side of my wrench burying into the ghost’s face. He gets knocked off balance, I keep my paw on his torso to keep him down, then fired a few shots at point blank. He twitches a few seconds, then dissipates into bluish dust.

At least they don’t bleed, so I don’t have to wash the blood out of my white fur. I return to the group, only finding the ghosts retreating. I inquire with enthusiasm. “Are they finally giving up?”

“Barradin’s coming, prepare yourselves.” Rytlock grunts as he wields his scorching sword with two hands.

A transparent light of blue, then quickly solidifies and forms a human figure. I don’t see any difference between a duke’s ghost and a peasant’s ghost, I guess human has a different way of separating ranks.

“Rytlock! You dare set foot on the land of Ascalon?!” The ghost demands, majestic in a self-pitying sense.

The Tribune chuckles. “First of all, it’s ‘paw.’ Second of all, you Ascalonian scums took the land of Charr, I feel no shame stepping in my own land.”

“You fool! You dare challenge—”

Tribune Brimstone brings his sword up to his shoulder, then performs a flawless aerial-cartwheel as he slashes the ghost into halves in midair. Then he lands with his sword sheathed, and gives a weak smirk.

“Ha! You short-witted animals! I shall never fall, never!” The statue in front of Rytlock springs into life. A ghostly energy overwhelms the rock and grants the cold stone life. Taken completely by surprise, Rytlock draws his sword to defend himself.

The barricades are in bad shapes, our forces are barely holding the enemies at bay. These ghosts of Ascalonian are some irritating pain in the rear. A barrage of bullets soars toward me, I quickly dive for cover under a wrecked portion of the barricades. Nudging to the edge, I pull the rings on three grenades in my paws and toss them over my head. An explosion takes place as I press on.

The front isn’t far away, but the ghosts are like never ending piles of Gravelings. I keep the magazines of my pistols between my jaws as I replace them with acidic rounds. Pulling my goggles over my eyes, I have a horrible aim, regardless of how much target practice I do. I guess this is part of the reason why I am an Engineer, not a Ranger.

I land a few quick shots on the ghosts as I move from one cover to the next. A fallen soldier grabs onto my ankle, whispering something. I sheath my pistols and swiftly arm myself with a wrench, just in case something sneaks up on me. Crouching, I help the wounded Charr to sit up.

“I wou—would rather die fighting! I’m n—not done yet!” As much as I would love to inform him of his horrible shape, I keep quiet. Pushing the goggles over my eyebrows, I press my muzzle closer.

“Slow down, what happened to the Tribune’s unit?” I leer around, checking constantly.

“They’re entering the crypt, you gotta help!” He cries, throwing up blood.

I produce a few bandages from my backpack, then proceed to patch my comrade up. He grabs me by my unarmored arm and shouts in my face. “Don’t worry about me! Go help out the Tribune.”

This is one reason I hate war, but it is part of the reality I am forced to face. I salute to him as I leave the bandages with him. Without proper medical attention, I really don’t think he will…

I cannot afford to be distracted, the crypt is a few yards away. As I expect, battles are worst at the outskirt of Smokestead. My only goal is to support Brimstone’s unit, but it’s odd that I haven’t seen any of my warband members. I hope they’re—

A shield bashes into my left arm—the unarmored one. I follow the momentum and barrel roll away from my assailant. The moment I grasp tightly onto my wrench, a sword slashes down at me.

Melee, the one thing I absolutely hate with a burning passion. I grit my teeth as I defend myself with full force. Then I notice a silent arrow takes aim at my skull. An instant chill to my spine, but I cannot escape by normal means. I suppose it is time to give my horrible-tasting creation a try.

I bite the stopper as it wiggles free from a red flask, then I spit it into the eye of my opponent. Exploiting the opening, I gulp down all the content of the flask. The liquid streams down my throat, as I grunt from its horrible, stale taste.

The next thing I know, I’m lunging away from the battle on all fours. Seven feet shorter and smaller, but still on all fours with a tail. Running away from combat isn’t shameful, it’s an option. Especially when you get the confused expressions of your enemies, a bonus.

Jokes aside, the crypt gate is wide open. I never liked tombs or graveyards, but it’s my job, I’m suppose to hate it. Oh how I envy those Engineers operating on communication outposts, being in the front line is absolutely the worst possibl—

“Howl!” I roar as I spot one of my warband members. Finally, a familiar face for once. Howl’s a pretty reliable man—well, Charr, but dependable regardless. He saved me from some skull crushing Ascalonian fiends when I recruited him. He’s much more capable than I am, I wonder why did he give up the leadership position to me.

“Don’t worry about me!” He shouts back, locked in combat with an Ascalonian warrior. “I’ll meet up with you later, go help the Tribune!”

“You have my thanks!” I salute swiftly as I continue down into the bitter abyss of the dead and raging spirits.

A tall, dark-brown furred Charr stands out in the crowd. There are five Charrs including the tall one. They’re physically suffocating from their large builds, heavy and strong. I feel out of place as I fall in the line.

“Who are you? Where’s the real reinforcement?” Despite the brown Charr doesn’t intend to intimidate me, his voice by itself is threatening.

This is the story line of a Charr, as a member of the Iron Legion. I enjoyed the personal story within the game quite a lot. Thus, I decided to elaborate the given skeleton plot by the game and mix in my personal style. I tend to keep things as casual as possible, and of course, enjoyable at the same time. English’s not my first language, and I have about 5 years of experience with the language. Hope you all enjoy. Oh, below is an image of me in game :P

Chapter 1: Fury of the Dead

More than ever, I begin to consider the purpose of war, but no amount of contemplation can serve as my escape from the constant battles flaring around me. As a Charr, my sole existence provides a mere vessel of rage and brute, a slave of perpetual warfare.

But I hate it, I hate being a leader within my warband, I hate seeing my allies throwing their lives into the endless flame of battles. Now, my bandmates are roaring on the battlefield of Smokestead, an area contested due to Ascalonian’s persistent invasion. Once again, I am to throw myself into the blazing fire of war.

Maybe sticking my head out of the carriage would lessen my stress. A light breeze brushes against my muzzle, I cannot help but sneeze. The cold night’s relentless wind cuts through my fur and into my flesh like sharpened blades. I wear a set of light armor, from the Order of Whisper. I used to be an agent, but I screwed up on one mission. It was something I don’t want to remind myself of. Then the smell of gunpowder, the stench of battle creeps up my nostrils. These reasons are more than enough to knock me back into the temporary warmth offered by my personal carriage.

A mirror on the opposite side, I stare into the glass wistfully, enjoying my moment of peace with my arms folded across my chest. A long muzzle, the image presents itself crystal clear. Teeth are ominous and threatening, a darker color than my thick, white fur with occasional stripes of black. I hate it, blood cakes into my fur almost every time I enter a battle. My scarlet eyes gleam as rubies in the dark night, large and alarming. I can pretty much displace my ears and hide my horns to look like a wolf. I have a small build, comparing to most male Charrs, but that’s why I never picked up a sword, dagger, and not even a staff, since I was never the intellectual.

“Mate, we’re not far from Smokestead, sky ahead’s burning.” The driver calls with his light voice.

“Hey,” I sneer, having no other method to sooth my unease soul. “You got a family waiting for you at home?”

He doesn’t reply right away, I suppose my question is odd all by itself. To my surprise, he answers in a soft tone. “Yea, a wife and two kids waiting for the promised victory and my safe return.”

I look down at my dual pistols, wiping them down with a white piece of cloth. I part my muzzle, half laughing. “You know, I became an Engineer only to hope I would be stationed away from the front line, what a disappointment, aye?”

“War is a group effort, one more Charr in the front line doesn’t hurt. Unless you’re God—”

“Don’t give me that god nonsense.” I snarl, the driver is touching a sensitive topic. “Religions are defenders of the weak, gods are for the hopeless and ignorant children.”

He goes quiet, as I expected. I push the curtain that blocks my vision, a barrier between the driver and me. “I’m Gadeleza Darkhaze, from Iron Legion. I don’t mind having a drink with you if I survive this mess.”

He turns and greets me with a crafty grin on his muzzle. “Radin’s the name, member of the Ash Legion, and I would be honored. Godspe—I mean, best of luck in battle.”

I quickly leap from the carriage as it arrives upon the barricade between the outskirt of Smokestead and the town begins to crumble. I’m certain the battle is fierce beyond the stronghold. I drop to my fours and race toward Tosia Domesplitter, the Legionnaire on site.

A cannonball lands on my left, I swiftly somersault to my right. These balls of death hardly harm me, far too large and slow to be ignored. But someone isn’t as fortunate as I am, he lies in a pool of blood not too far from me.

I hurry over to his side, but the moment I take in the number of shrapnels in his armored torso, I sigh with regret.

“You there! What are you doing?!” A feminine, but piercing voice. I stand at attention immediately. “Are you the reinforcement sent by the Black Citadel to escort Tribune Brimstone’s unit?”

“Yes, but this soldier is critically—”

“No excuses! Your warband has already gone ahead of you, hurry up to the front!”

“Yes ma’am.” I glance at the dying Charr by my paws. Disobeying orders is the last thing on my list.

@Numot:

I think you’re addressing the Engineer specializing tendency. I personally believe focusing on a certain portion which a class has to offer isn’t wrong. Now, does that achieve the same as other classes? No.

For example, when you see a Mesmer spamming clones at one, he or she would consider twice before charging in unless this individual is a burst thief. However, Engineer doesn’t achieve half of this effect even if one occupies his entire Utility Slots with turrets. To be honest, any classes can out-kite turrets due to their immobility and lack of functions. Unless the Engineer drops four turrets of his own then use supply drop, I seriously doubt any class would be discouraged to skip an easy kill.

Regardless how well one understands Engineer, Elixir Build/Static Discharge Build/Glass Cannon are pretty much the only two possible method in order to be on par with other classes in PvP, and WvW.

Turrets are only an example, I won’t go into detail with Elixirs/Tool Kits, they fall into the same category of issue I mentioned above.

@WithoutAssumption:
I believe the point you establish is also biased, mine as well, of course. The people who claim Engineer as a class has no issue aren’t Elitists, but simply players of a higher aptitude and achievement, or just players who tend to be pretentious.

Therefore I would not identify that specific group of players as Elitists, they’re merely expressing their opinion in regard to a class’s performance. The only difference appears to be one has a higher evaluation of the class, and the other doesn’t.

Therefore I deny the existence of such category known as “Elitism” in a class itself. It’s a mere excuse for those who under-perform with identical resources.

Thus, I don’t believe “Elitism,” is politically correct when utilized to describe the designated category of players.

I second this message sincerely

@Welswift:
I have actually considered that idea. But it would strip the very foundation of what turrets are defined as in this game: Immobile Devices.

As much as I agree with your idea 100%, the amount of re-coding needed to be done to accomplish that well exceed my own suggestion. Your proposal demands a lot on the Developers, which are lazy as we all know but do not say (No Offense). Unless there are profit for them to actually do such thing, I don’t see that realizing in the near future.

In my opinion, your plan changes the framework of Engineer even more. But a very creative idea regardless! Keep the suggestions coming, guys.

JackWest, Engineer as a profession and in its current state is under-powered. It takes more coordination and player ability to maneuver the class to the standard of other average players controlling other classes. Therefore, two choices are present. One, quit Engineer because you cannot satisfy yourself with your current skill or play style. Two, cease your excessive complaints and enhance your gaming by improving yourself. That’s all there are for us Engineer.

There’s no such thing as Elitism if you actually perform well with Engineer. If you don’t perform well, then either improve or move on. No one suggested such thing as “Engineer is only for pros like me, stop playing it, you’re noob.” You are the individual that believes others are condescending due to your lack of self-esteem.

Your post is nothing but the foundation of self-pity. Give suggestions to the Developers, and stop complaining about some non-existing Elitism.

Solution: Like previously mentioned, Elixir Kit. Fit every Elixir out there excluding Elixir H into this kit. The same concept applied for my turret proposal would implement in this kit, as well. But the toss elixir capability should be replaced by an AoE buff like the Healing Turret’s Tool Belt skill. Engineer has quite a lot to handle already, adding in Ground Targeting is a nuisance. Then, the randomness. No one would want a stealth wall when a giant AoE comes in an Engineer’s way. Then nobody appreciates a reflective wall when one desires a stealth wall. The CDs of the Elixir can remain due to the fact that I expanded their accessibility.

EX. In a group combat situation, an Engineer plans to deploy a Stealth Wall for his allies to retreat. In such perilous situation, the Engineer uses Toss Elixir U, then resulted in a reflector wall. The awkward second of silence has plunged the entire team into depression.

EX. In a one on one situation, an Engineer attempts to disengage through utilizing Toss Elixir S to “hope” for a stealth buff. However, he becomes a giant, therefore an easy target practice dummy. Whoever misses such an enormous creature in combat needs a new eye prescription.

III. Survival

For far too long, Engineer has fallen under the impression of a slow-legged turtle who travels less than a centimeter per day. Just about every other profession has the capability of escaping if one puts his/her mind upon the matter. Fleeing however, is not an option for most Engineers.

Problem: From the two problems I have suggested above, one can infer that Engineer has already used up his Utility Slots, or only has one precious slot left. Is it really balanced for a class to under-perform even when one uses all Utility Slots for offensive maneuvers, and yet one cannot escape from any desperate situations?

Solution: Create a Survival Kit. No I’m kidding. Create an Elite Skill that has 240 seconds of Cool Down named “Asura Gate.” This skill is very similar to Mesmer’s Portal, however, a much longer range. Asura Gate is a skill which allows an Engineer to construct a “Recall-Point” at a specific location. When the Engineer wishes to escape from a dangerous situation, he can create a portal (built by machine instead of Mesmer’s “magic”) which sustains for 15 seconds. All allies including the skill user can utilize this spacial portal to escape to safety. This skill will truly bring Engineer into the light and makes it become one of the indispensable class in both PVE and PVP contents.

Conclusion: With the ideas presented above, Engineer would truly become the model of versatility. It also provides one the ability to specialize in an area (Allocate Traits) if wanted. If the solutions above apply, Engineer would finally be able to possess the same learning curve and capability comparing to other classes.

Note: This is my personal opinion and proposal. Opinions may differ, please do not attack me personally. Give constructive criticism, not incoherent, irrational, or uneducated remarks that lack train of thought that fail to contribute to the given topic

Engineer Revamp Plan

I’ll open up with a blatant statement of how Engineer can be improved reasonably. I understand perfectly that the developers planed for this class to be extremely under-powered, and a horrible support sidekick. Well, if the developers plan to show some love sooner or later, here’s several ideas of mine that I personally prefer to implement.

I. Turrets
As many of us Engineers know, turrets are some of the abilities that distinguish Engineer from the other classes. The current state of these machines are more of a burden than support.

Problems: Turrets recharge far too slow for stationary weaponry. Whenever an Engineer decides to deploy turrets, which occupies one of the precious skill slot that Engineer has, the risk one takes well exceed the potential rewards. Then, even with turret plating and improvement traits the developers have implemented, the turrets are still more of a burden than actual function at this current state.

EX. An Engineer takes a walk in WvW, a Mesmer happens to engage in combat with him. If the two classes were truly balanced, I think by filling one’s utility slots with multiple turrets should render the ability of the Engineer to keep the clones at bay. However, this is not the case. Even with Supply Drop and its additional turrets, a Mesmer can easily kite and destroy the turrets eventually, leaving a huge opening. Then it comes the CDs, Engineer has to wait for his turrets, while Mesmer just keep pressing 1 and clones fly toward the Engineer like mosquitoes on steroid. In addition, Mesmer doesn’t need to occupy his utility slot for regular clones.

Solution: Create a Turret Kit, create new trait. The turret kit would contain all five types of turrets: Rifle, Missile, Net, Thumper, and Flame turret. The Tool Belt Skill would expand from F1 – F4 to F1 – F6. The other functions remain identical prior to the change. Then, reduce the Cool Downs for all turrets by 50%. Also, if the turret is detonated above 50 percent health, its Cool Down would once again be reduced by 50 percent. (Current Rifle Turret would have 10 second cool down, if detonated properly, 5 second CD) Other professions may cry “OP” in regard to this idea, however, they must remember that turrets are stationary assets. Engineer is suppose to dominate Point Defense, not a Mesmer who spams clones.

II. Elixirs

Elixir is another special ability that Engineer has, distinct from other professions. However, Elixirs’ randomnesses and long Cool Downs are ridiculous and prevent applications.

Problem: As much as this fresh and innovative idea/class appeals to MMO players’ eyes, it remains underdeveloped and lackluster. Engineer is a symbol of versatility, then why would an individual must be forced into a specific build to achieve other classes’ performance who are also classes of versatility? (Ele) Elixirs shouldn’t take up more than one utility slot.