Guild Wars Fanfic (English text + subs)

[Rivlet.9174]

Hi, everyone!

I am creating this thread in order to post all entries on the Guild Wars Prophecies Fanfic that I have just started. To begin, I am bringing you the first one in both audiovisual and written formats. In this occasion, a background for our warrior is provided. It unravels the thoughts of the character, who sees himself caught in the midst of a war against the charr in a time when Ascalon was still human and colourful (HINT: he is lvl 16 because of the Legendary Defender of Ascalon title and it is now time to do the questing)

The plan is to beat all Guild Wars games live (on Twitch) and in chronological order (including GW2) while creating these character diary entries in the aforementioned formats.

I hope this one is to your liking!

Video (hit English subs) https://youtu.be/pWcPgCHnnJc

Write

“You, who can, write. It will help you". Those were her words in the evening, just before she left. It almost seemed like an order, but I know that was not her intention. At this point, there is little of Langmar and much of a lieutenant in her. Whatever it is, for some reason, her idea appealed to me. So much so that I immediately went to the store to ask for some ink and paper and here I am: huddled in the corner of one of the sentry boxes of our Great Wall, writing this with bad lighting and worse handwriting.

            Being here, I can hear how, far below, my companions repel the occasional nightly skirmishes of the charr. In a few hours, dawn will make me the one to take their place to try to stop the eternal onslaught of those beasts. I have lost count of the charr I have slain. There are those who tell me that I am skilled or that I was born for this. Honestly, I do not feel the intervention of other things than luck and experience. Luck, for not having been one of those who fell in their first fight. Experience, for having been able to have that fortune.

And the truth is that it has not been long since that beginning. I still remember the knocking on the door of our little farm, in the middle of the night. I was already lying on my bed, trying to fall asleep in preparation for another exhausting day of work. "Open in the name of the King!" they shouted from the other side. When I heard that, I knew they were coming for me like they did with my father for the Clan Wars a few years before. My mother, already afflicted by this loss, implored them not to take me. It was no use: the enemy is more numerous and fiercer, so Adelbern needs every man or woman capable of killing, wounding or bulking. And when the King needs, the people provide.

I was not allowed to carry anything. "We will give you everything you need," they warned. Truth be told, I did not have much to carry either, but I would have liked to bring with me some of the books my parents showed me and taught me with. At least this made the trip to Ascalon light. I won't lie: as we stood at the foot of the big city, with the towering Wall illuminated by the morning sun, my heart filled with anticipation and my mother and the farm began to stop mattering so much. We were guided through the city, but, to my surprise, instead of being taken to the register, stocked up and directed to our resting quarters, we were directed through the Wall, towards its north face, to scan a horizon of scorched earth, lying bodies and dilapidated buildings.

"This is why you are here. It is up to you that these indomitable beasts go where they came from and do not destroy everything we know. But beware: they are as dangerous to you as I am. My word is that of the King and in this war mistakes are paid dearly. Flee from treacherous temptations, embrace the fight and all will be well. Understood? Good. Let's go". Those were the first and last words I heard from Sir Tydus, who appeared as soon as he disappeared. After this warning, they finally took us to the lieutenant and her subordinates, who took care of us.

The next morning, rested and armed, we were divided into groups of two and, supervised by different officers, began our training south of the Wall. Actually, rather than training us, they used us for pest control tasks that, in turn, served to separate the wheat from the chaff. Skales, Devourers, Grawl, Bandits… Those were our targets. Killing them proved our worth, revealed our talents, and helped control a kingdom in chaotic decline. And if one of us fell along the way, quick and relatively frequent nightly burial ceremonies reminded us of what was logical: if he was killed by bandits, imagine what the charr would have done to him.

With each day that I survived, my options to continue in this world grew. Options that were minimal for beings who, like me, have little magical flow in their veins. "The warriors," they call us. Many times, in a derogatory tone. And they are right. If not for my partner's talent and spells, I doubt I would have made it this far. In any case, here I am. The skales became a thing of the past and every night I go to my bed overwhelmed and exhausted by the good handful of hunted charr. That is why I am part of the Ascalon Vanguard and, being of use to them here, they have not sent me to the deadly end in which, until now, all my companions have ended.

But I cannot go on like this indefinitely. I feel how my soul cracks and my spirit collapses. I have asked Langmar to allow me to enjoy some freedom again. It has been hard for her to give in, but we have come to an agreement: after tomorrow, I will be free from feline brutality for a couple of days, as long as I continue to help the vulnerable or improve my physical and mental preparation for my return to the Vanguard. Better than nothing, they say. But it is fine by me. I know where to go and what to do. In any case, my conscience would not be clear if my fight ceased, because to do so would mean leaving that farm unprotected, which now seems so far away to me and where my mother, without a doubt, suffers every day. "Don't worry. I'm here,” I would like to tell her. But well... At least I can write it.

Edited July 23, 2022 by Rivlet.9174