Guild Wars 2

Sam had set down her backpack on the highest platform above the lava, giving her a good view of her crew mates below and an even better sight of the flowing lava, which still amazed her even after spending a few hours in the cave.

She was tugging at the leather of her coat, trying to stretch it a bit, when hurried footsteps caught her in surprise. Leinandri’s red horns appeared first, followed by the inquisitive eyes of the Sylvari and her eternal cheerful smile.

“Sam! Here you are! Look what I found!” she exclaimed as she knelt by the thief and showed a glinting crystalline rock.

“Hey Lettuce!” greeted Sam and peered curiously at the item in Lei’s hands. “I saw it b’fore! Ya gottit from sum weird lamp inna tent, yeah?”

“That was a lamp?”

“I dunno, mebbe it ain’t?”

“It’s too pretty to be just a lamp, Sam!”

“What d’ya wanna do with it, mate?”

“I could give it to you!”

Sam laughed and so did Leinandri as she offered the small crystal to her friend.

“We could do stuff like Ouuk an’ do sum experimatation with it, if ya wanna?”

“Oh yes, that sounds very good.” The Sylvari looked around quickly, inspecting their surroundings.
“There isn’t much here though and the storm has started outside. Maybe we could throw it in the air?”

Sam grinned mischievously. “Or inna lava! I betcha we can find lotsa rocks. We could compare ‘em an’ stuff. Which ones sink an’ which dun an’ how long they take!”

“It won’t be pretty anymore. It’ll be gone!”

“Ya gotta have rocks in yer Dream, doncha?”

“You’re right, Sam! We can send Nildael and your family plenty of pretty rocks! Then they can build rock castles!”

Sam laughed again and crawled to the edge to peer down at the ground a bit further ahead.

“Sure, yeah! Grab yer stuff an’ take it here, then we find rocks an’ we send ‘em in th’Dream.”

We’ve been getting pretty good at the dungeons on our weekly pve night! With some luck, we might soon be able to get some nice looking armour to add to our character’s outfits ICly

We’re always looking for more people to add their stories to our own, be they a mischievous asura, a proud norn seeking for her legend, a day dreaming Sylvari, a lost human looking for fame or a flower loving charr cast away from his clan.

The water engulfed the young falling human. Cold, so cold thought Sam, legs and arms feeling numb from the sudden plunge into the freezing sea. Somehow, a foot kicked, a hand pulled, and after what felt like an eternity, air was once more entering the lungs of the shivering thief.

“Over here!” shouted Lettuce, the Sylvari standing in the small boat alongside that devilish looking Asura known as Ouuk.

Sam gasped and willed both legs and both arms to keep going, aiming for the small rowing boat and the promise of warmth, wondering what was happening to the large ship they stood upon only a few moment ago.

Sam’s hair was still wet from the dive. They had been successful in helping the Quaggans, who had repaid them with a piece of the artefact they were seeking.

Sitting outside and leaning against the cliff, the young human watched the waters ahead with barely enough light to see the lines being drawn, although years spent in the back alleys of Divinity’s Reach had gotten Sam used to doing things while being surrounded in near darkness.

The thief thought of the large Norn sitting up the cliff with the others, discussing their next move, and the tattoos covering his skin. Sam had been looking at them often, pondering the meaning of these mysterious marks. Quick lines appeared on the torn paper, shapes forming slowly while the image of the giant and his dark ink was still vivid in the sketcher’s mind.

The sparring was becoming a ritual. Today, Vanir and Alan were at it again, one teaching the other about sword play. Sam had thought about joining them, but swords were big and heavy. Vanir was also intimidating. One hit from him, and it felt like the thief would have been sent flying into the nearby crate. Instead, Sam had joined the Sylvari to cheer on them.

Sam had come to watch most of the time, although today, the boyish looking human was sitting on a high crate, away from anyone’s eyes. Rough lines were drawn, trying to illustrate the sword dancers, but Sam was growing frustrated. They were never still and the pen was unable to capture the movements properly. The failed attempts were starting to eat up the space on the precious canvas, a borrowed Dragon Bash poster advertising the festivities in Lion’s Arch, so Sam deciding to focus on something else. Looking around, dark brown eyes focused on Leinandri who was cheering on the sparring partners with her fife. The pale Sylvari became the new focus of the pen.