#defending shaemoor

[skaald-of-the-hearth-fires]

DoF:RefTE chapter 1 - Centaurs in Shaemoor

Dreams of Freedom: Reforging the Edge

Chapter one: Centaurs in Shaemoor | (AO3 link)

“CAPTAIN!”

Logan looks up from his desk in surprise, startled, mind running through all the possibilities of what can it be now? and already thinking of who he can assign to protect Queen Jennah. As always, of course, he wonders if he should just do that himself and not leave it up to chance (however miniscule). Then he sees that it is only Lieutenant Groban, who had been to Shaemoor Garrison, just outside the city, to get a report.

But Groban is standing in the massive door of Seraph Headquarters with wind-blown hair and a desperate expression on his face, and Logan blinks, this time just confused. Shaemoor is only just outside of Divinity’s Reach, nothing could have scared him too badly. To be fair, Logan reflects bemusedly, he doesn’t leave the walls of the city that often… perhaps he was frightened by something relatively mundane. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Centaurs, Captain! At the garrison!”

Logan raises an eyebrow in surprise and not a little confusion - the nearest centaurs are quite a ways southeast of Shaemoor. He checks the reports scattered around his desk. Out in the Krytan Freeholds, in fact. The centaurs couldn’t have got past the Seraph forces in the area without a lot of effort, manpower (or horsepower? Logan never knows), and most importantly, time - nearly two days’ travel, assuming they didn’t flat-out gallop the whole distance. There’s no way the Seraph wouldn’t have had warning. "How did they - ?”

“I don’t know, Captain, but they’re there. If they get past the garrison, Divinity’s Reach itself will be in danger.”

Logan furrows his brow. That's true... he admits reluctantly to himself, finally accepting the gravity of the situation. He nods at Groban. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Send runners to the Krytan Freeholds. We need to know how the centaurs got past the Seraph there without being stopped… or even noticed.” Logan pauses and frowns. The Wintersday festival was just yesterday, which might be enough to explain any lack of attention… but a whole troop of centaurs passing right outside the walls? That’s hard to miss.

The whole situation is… fishy. But Logan needs more information - he doesn’t know if the centaurs at the garrison came from the Krytan Freeholds at all, and if not, how they did get to the garrison. He doesn’t know how many centaurs there are at the garrison, or - well, he doesn’t know much of anything yet. That is easily remedied.

Logan glances at the lieutenant. He seems to have calmed down a bit. Groban could do with more time in the field anyway, Logan reflects. “Correction: go yourself, and get me a timeline of the centaurs’ movements. Handle the disposition of the troops stationed at the Freeholds once you’ve gathered all relevant information. Dismissed.”

Lieutenant Groban comes to attention and salutes, thumping his chest, before turning and striding out of Seraph Headquarters.

Logan speaks to the other Seraph in the room. “Someone send to Shaemoor Garrison for a report on the strength of centaur forces there and the ability of the Seraph stationed within the garrison to withstand the attack.” A corporal salutes and hurries off. Logan calls after him, “find out how soon their shift changes, too!” Logan himself had been looking forward to heading home to Rurikton soon, but it seems those plans will have to be delayed.

In any case, Shaemoor Garrison had not, in Logan’s memory, ever had to withstand any attacks. The centaurs had never pressed so far north before, and the garrison, as a result, is only lightly defended. Logan usually sends new graduates of the Seraph Training Academy there for some risk-free experience ‘in the field.’ The centaur attack, however, may be similarly light. Hopefully.

Logan glances across his desk, looking for anything on the small village that Shaemoor Garrison defends, then turns to one of his aides. “Get me the files on Shaemoor and the surrounding fields. I need to know the significance of the land we’re defending.”

The man nods, rummaging through some papers on the long desk Logan shares with his aides, and finally comes up with a stack of papers. Shuffling through them all briefly, he says, “Lieutenant Francis is the ranking officer in Shaemoor, sir, and the village’s primary complaint is bandits. It’s mostly farmland and there aren’t many Seraph on patrol except in the village itself, so the outlaws are… unrestrained. I believe Shaemoor’s fields are the primary source of food supply to Divinity’s Reach."

“Ahh.” Logan sits back thoughtfully while his aide goes through the papers more thoroughly. Valuable land, then - to be protected at all costs. Divinity’s Reach wouldn’t survive a siege without it - Shaemoor Garrison is the last defense. Logan's breath hitches momentarily. “Is the garrison the village's only defense?”

“The only man-made defense, sir. Shaemoor Garrison straddles the river - Altar Brook - which goes around all the east and south side, and there’s a mountain to the southwest… that the civilians have nicknamed the Bandithaunt Caverns… I…” he tilts his head at the paper. “I guess it’s got caverns in it…?”

Logan tunes him out for the moment. He doesn't need to hear about the bandits - he'd done what he could about them long ago. Between a mountain and a river, Shaemoor Garrison is a quite tactically useful choke point for holding off the centaurs… but if it fails, not only do the civilians in Shaemoor get trampled over, but Divinity’s Reach could be sieged easily and starved out within five weeks - less, coming out of winter and with no spring crops in production yet. Logan realizes his heartbeat had sped up in anxiety, but he forces himself to hold his leisurely position. His men can't see him worried. A siege is not a likely possibility, Logan reminds himself. A large enough force to achieve that could not have gotten this far without being noticed.

Logan takes a deep breath. “Who’s the ranking officer at the garrison itself?”

“Lieutenant Ryder, sir.”

“Ah, an experienced man, then." Logan nods decisively. "And he has Lieutenant Francis in the village for backup. They’ll do fine, with sufficient manpower.” He'll have to keep an eye on the situation, of course. IT wouldn't do to let such a strange threat go unmonitored so close to home.

A minute later, the massive doors of Seraph HQ open to admit a Seraph soldier. “Captain, I have a report on Shaemoor.”

“Continue,” Logan says, leaning back in his chair.

“Centaurs are currently attacking the garrison. They seem to have a temporary camp on the southern edge of Scaver Plateau and are only sending forces in small waves. It’s a sizable force at the camp, but the garrison is holding - for now at least. Our lieutenant requests replacements for the newer soldiers so he can get them out of the frontline fighting, and reinforcements to handle the centaurs when they decide to mount a full-scale attack. He’ll need more than the command stationed in the village, and he’s already using twice the manpower.”

"Where'd he get extra manpower from already?” Logan questions with a frown.

“The centaurs hit us right at our shift change, Captain. The lieutenant kept the day shift on guard to help the night shift with the defense.”

Logan grimaces, but otherwise doesn't let his worry show on his face. That’s over half the men on duty tired from a day of service. These centaurs have far too much information on Seraph troops and movements. More than Logan’s own active information, at that. “Send as many men as he needs,” Logan says aloud to his aide, who scribbles notes frantically. “Call in men from Altar Brook Crossing, even Claypool if need be. We may need them - we still don’t know how the centaurs got here or where they came from.” There may also be Seraph forces incoming from Krytan Freeholds, too, depending on Groban’s findings.

“Yes, Captain!” The man salutes with a thump of his fist to his chest, and leaves.

Logan takes a deep breath to settle his nerves and stretches slightly. He had never been built for desk work, and rather itches to be on the battlefield where he can actually be helping instead of gathering information. But, alas, such are the trials of love. With that thought, Logan rises from his desk. “I need to report to the queen. Send Lieutenant Groban to me when he returns.”

~oOoOo~

Logan enters Queen Jennah’s throne room and bows with a flourish. Jennah would not have minded if he’d strode right up to her - and Logan certainly would have preferred to - but appearances must be maintained, for nobles, ministers, and commoners alike. They need to see the Seraph Captain showing proper respect and deference. Logan hides a smile; showing the Chamber of Ministers that the queen has the full support of her military is one of his favorite pastimes. It wouldn’t do to let them forget, after all. So he follows the forms with all the respect and dignity he can muster. Passionate embraces can be saved for… less public spaces.

Jennah meets his eyes with a warm smile from across the room. "Ah, Logan!” She beckons him come closer.

Logan approaches gladly. “My queen,” he murmurs, kissing her hand. Now, that part of the ritual… well. But there is business to be done.

Straightening, he goes on, “I’m afraid there’s no time for pleasantries. Centaurs are sieging Shaemoor Garrison as we speak - threatening the Village of Shaemoor and the Shaemoor Fields, farmland that provides for most of Divinity’s Reach. Even more worrying, we don’t know how they got so far into Kryta.”

Jennah frowns. “Where were they before?”

“At closest? Krytan Freeholds, beyond the Eldvin Monastery. Our usual battle lines are drawn even further out, past Beetletun and Guardian’s Pass.”

“And you say they threaten the city?”

Logan forces himself to let go of the tension between his shoulders. “The lieutenant at Shaemoor Garrison isn’t certain he can hold out for long. I’m gearing up the Seraph to assist them already. The centaurs also have displayed an uncanny knowledge of our operations - shift changes particularly. I’m confident we can handle it, but it’s a worrying development.”

“I agree,” Jennah says softly. She sighs. “I do not see the point of continuing to spend lives on this war. Is there any chance of a parlay?”

"I wish," Logan mutters resentfully. How do they know our shift changes?? He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “You know we’ve tried before, Your Majesty. They won’t settle for anything, reasonable or unreasonable - they want to claim all of Kryta and do who knows what with humanity. Kill us all, possibly; or enslave us. Most generously, I can imagine they’d pack us off to some remote corner of the country while they have free rein of the rest.” He shakes his head, anger bubbling in his chest. The centaur war had been taking its toll on the people for far too long.

Countess Anise speaks up from Queen Jennah’s right hand, almost like the lady-in-waiting she pretended to be. “Their view is understandable. By nature, we shouldn’t even be here - we’re relative newcomers to this world, and the centaurs know it best of all. They have better reason to than most - well, save the charr, and we’re at war with them, too. Excuse me, ceasefire. Of course the centaurs resent our presence on their land.”

“We can’t exactly leave,” Logan replies sharply.

“Of course not, Captain,” Anise says easily. “It is a tragedy that we’ll have to beat them into submission the hard way, but one that must be endured. What concerns me more is their appearance out of nowhere - right at twilight and the day after Wintersday, no less.”

“I have scouts on the problem already,” Logan says, speaking more to Jennah than her advisor. “They’ll take longer to report in, but I thought you should know of the situation. I’ll let you know when I know more. Also, I may draw Seraph from the city to supplement our ranks in Shaemoor.”

“That is good to know,” Jennah tells him. “Thank you.” She hesitates. “Might I suggest going to the garrison yourself? You’ve seemed restless of late - the combat will do you good.”

Logan frowns. “I’d like to, but I should stay where I can coordinate things…” He's still waiting for Groban to report in about where the centaurs came from, and then he has to make executive decisions from there; he needs to find out where the centaurs got their information and plug that leak; he has to be able to reallocate men to the garrison as needed; he needs to be able to respond quickly to any new information that might come in - surprise attacks elsewhere in the kingdom, for example -

Countess Anise grins at him. “You mean you should stay where you can keep an eye on the queen? Don’t worry your head, Captain - nothing will befall her.”

“With Divinity’s Reach itself in danger from a threat that materialized out of nowhere, I’ll ‘worry my head’ until I’m one hundred percent sure she is safe,” Logan snaps. “As should you.”

“Oh, I do," Anise says with a slow smile. "Concern yourself first with the centaurs at the gate, Captain, and leave me to handle our… internal affairs.”

That means Anise suspects an information leak or inside job of some kind. Logan wishes he could investigate and manage everything. But Anise has her job, he has his, and…

Jennah smiles at him. “Go, fight your battles, Logan. I’ll be here when you return.”

Logan bows, then turns and leaves the throne room. He really should stay at Seraph HQ and coordinate... But a command from his queen is a command from his queen.

But he won’t stop worrying about her.

[whiskeyworen]

Secrets of the Obscure: Lost Commander

Playing through the first sections of Secrets of the Obscure, it got me thinking.

The Commander is lost.

Since the beginning of the game, when we take hold of them, they've had some kind of mission, some kind of goal. It started out small; help out in Shaemoor when things go bad. Or end a nasty Inquest prank/assault by destroying their cube golem. Or help put down Lord Barradine's ghost (again). Or literally defend the Dream from the psychic marring the Nightmare Court are trying to inflict on it in the hopes of spoiling the Dream into the Nightmare. Or taking part in a celebratory hunt and taking down the biggest Ice wurm to date.

From there it just snowballed for them with the Personal story, leading up to joining an Order, meeting their mentor… losing their mentor… Creating the pact and eventually bringing down Zhaitan.

And it kept going from there. One crisis after another. One war after another. Friends gained. Friends lost. Enemies found. Enemies ended. World saved, again, and again, and again.

Finally, things are falling into a nominal peace. Oh there's skirmishes and stuff. There will always be strife. But the big stuff? The world is starting to slowly move past it.

Human and Charr not only have a tenuous peace treaty; the heads behind the resistance to that treaty are GONE. Almost every main legion is headed by someone ameniable to peace, to a new way of life.

The Nightmare Court, while not gone, doesn't seem to have the violence they used to. Oh they still tempt the new sprouts to join them, to indulge in pain and decadence and rebellion… but with Faolain dead, the guiding source for their brutality is gone. Maybe they'll be trouble in the future, but not nearly to the degree Faolain turned them into.

The Inquest have lost base after base, including a Rata. It's unknown what their command structure is like now, or where other bases are, but they seem to at least be keeping their heads down. And with the Arcane Eye taken down, they don't have anyone on the inside anymore, to cover up their misdeeds.

The White Mantle are dead or badly scattered, with no real hope of reforming.

The Svanir have lost their totem beast, if not their lives. If they still linger on, they're no longer the power they tried to be.

Even Joko is finally dead. One of the biggest damned threats to the world, someone who would have killed and turned everyone if given a chance, is now Elder Dragon burps.

The Gods are gone, never to return. The one that tried to is dead.

Through all this, the Commander struggled, trying to save as many as they could. Eventually rising to become the Symbol of the desire for peace and stability.

And it finally happened.

But what do we find? The Commander is… lost. Everyone they knew is either dead, retired, has moved on to positions where they can no longer 'go on adventures'. The threats that brought them all together are gone. Now it's just the wind-down. Fix broken things, find the lives they left behind to fight their fight.

Except the Commander.

They don't have anything else. Their whole existence for the last 10 years has been nigh-constant fighting, threat, intrigue, near-dying, and ACTUAL dying.

Everyone else has moved on. But the Commander can't. What can they do?

It's so terribly sad. I listened to my Commander, Cyrus. My own self-insert. Walking around Salma district. He was relieved that things were peaceful, but you could tell he didn't feel at home. He didn't feel at home, at HOME. Because it wasn't home anymore. It was just a place he protected for a long time.

When he was trying out Taimi's new phone system (I just think of it as the smartphone system), with each call, it was clear that everyone had moved on but him. They'd all found lives to life, new purposes, new loves…. old loves…

And here you have him, standing alone in the street, unnoticed by everyone but a nosey reporter from Cantha. At a loss for what to do with himself.

Going back a step, even the triple-'date' Taimi set up to help Rama was awkward as hell. It wasn't the Commander's idea; they got hijacked into it. Even had their date pretty much picked out for them. As pleasant as it was, and as relaxed as it made them in the end, it was an oddity in their life. When was the last time they'd had a date? Before the Personal Story, somewhere? Maybe never? Was that the FIRST date the Commander had ever had?

It just kinda made me sad that, they knew they were basically going through the motions of 'normal life', because it wasn't normal to THEM. Trying to fit in to a world that no longer needed them.

If it wasn't for accidentally stumbling onto the Astral Ward, I don't think they would have been able to settle into a normal life.

But it still doesn't end there; accidentally brought into association with the Ward, they run into perhaps the ONE other person who might understand that sense of emptiness, that loss of the sense of home. Zojja.

And in her usual faintly self-centered way, you find out she blames the Commander partly for not being there when she needed someone. The one person who not only would have been there if contacted, but ALSO needed someone to confide in, to take some of the weight off them…

It hurt to hear Cyrus very slowly say "We would have come. I know I would've." There was pain there. Like 'You really thought we'd abandon you, so you immediately discounted us.'

So here's Zojja, the last of the people he knew from being the Commander who hasn't yet disappeared… and she's telling him that if she Ascends to Wizard, she'll lose memories, or they'll be come dull and unimportant. That the Zojja that comes out the other side might not even view him as a friend anymore.

And the Commander, already knowing he's probably going to lose his last friend, can only offer an understanding, painful smile and tell her that no matter what, he'll support her, even if she doesn't recognize him anymore.

They'll call him Wayfinder in the Ward… but it's just a new war front. A new rank. A new title. And he'll have to start over again.

At least he'll have R'tchikk to remind him of a past that's already starting to fade away in Tyria.

Everyone in the Ward knows of the Commander; they've been watching through their crystal balls, wondering if the Commander was a big enough threat that they'd need to quietly eliminate them. But now that the Commander is right there, the Ward is going to use them as a new weapon.

And we all know the Commander is just going to accept that this is what they're gonna have to do because… what's the alternative? At least they know how to fight.

[i-mybrunettelady]

Blorbo ask: If Nyra wasn't commander or from any particular dynasty and just "some regular noble whose family had a lot of cash" what would she do. What would an average day be like. Would she aid the commander or be "oh heavens no, that's scary work, I'll stay here inside my safe city" (lol)

Ty for dropping by! Here's a Nyra shot for you <3

AU in which Nyra isn't a commander or otherwise in a position of power simply does not exist. One of the core things to her is that her rise to power is not underlined by some grandiose plans her family had for her, although they were there to an extent - it's Nyra herself.

Somewhat pretentiously, she's had a dream of going down in history since she was a teen. She's one of those people who are aware of themselves from an early age. In an old drabble I wrote that I cannot find for the life of me, she gets all annoyed because her grandfather's getting more attention than her. If I may be permitted to quote my own writing, here's a similar sentiment she expresses at the age of 10:

She doesn’t feel like Lady Ainsaph, either. That’s what she’s introduced as and that’s what adults use to refer to her. It’s too general, too similar to her mom and sister. Every time she hears it, she swears she feels something in her chest tighten and release.

Her being a descendant of Ascalonian royals/Ainsaphs/Doric has nothing to do with her innate desire to be in charge and her ambition. She just had an easier start at it because of her good breeding. She would've gone to defend Shaemoor and do all the things she did anyway.

Funnily enough, her family's earlier draft was something along the lines of what you mention in the ask - newly minted nobles, given titles for their services to the crown of Kryta. There were no grand origins. Later I discarded that idea in favor of this one, because I wanted to write a story about someone who isn't really an underdog (that one belongs to some other OCs of mine, particularly Ren) but also is very good at what they do and did great things because of that, not because they come from a good lineage that's god-blessed to be charge, if that makes sense?

Tl;dr there is no version in which she's not the Commander. Her only other AU, the Exile one, also has her be a commander of her country's armies (plus an actual demon lmao girlie has horns and had wings there)

[commander-gloryforge]

After exploring Caledon Forest and making himself known through his good deeds, the brave Sapling that had defended the dream, Aryel, meets a knight dressed in dream, an armour he had seen in his dream. He rescues an armour smith from the Nightmare, and defeats the knight. When he meets the mother of all Sylvari, she mentions her first child, asking Aryel to meet him.

Meanwhile, the Hero of Shaemoor has recovered from her injuries and gets caught up in less noble affairs. Her close friend once again runs into trouble, and she is the one to pull him back out again. She rescues him from bandit gangs, choosing loyalty to her friend over the lives of innocents- And yet, the defeat of a gang leader spreads her name, Soleil, among Krytan citizens and Seraph alike. But Soleil also begins to draw attention from less well meaning figures.

[commanderfloppy]

Oooh, how about Tori and Logan? They're both of Ascalonian descent, could be fun to think about!

Ohh this is fun to think about.

Honestly Tori kinda thinks Logan is a dweebus. Yeah he has his cool moments like when he comes out to defend shaemoor, or actually tries to deal with corrupt nobles. But otherwise he’s just too much of a suck up to Jennah, and also not really their type.

That being said the idea of them getting together is a very funny one, I can only really imagine them doing anything if Logan initiated (which would be hard since he’s a dweeb)

The only scenario where I can imagine them somehow getting together is if they were at a bar celebrating a recent victory, they both get a bit drunk and start giving each other backhanded compliments. ‘You’re pretty cool for someone who used to steal for a living’, ‘And you’re pretty brave for someone who sucks up to nobility’ and as they get more drunk the compliments get more genuine until a drunkenly confident Logan makes a move, and Tori (who’s in her slut era) goes ‘why not’

They wake up the next day naked and hungover, Logan is embarrassed, Tori is indifferent but thinks this will make a funny story later.

5/10: they would never work dating wise, but the comedy potential of them hooking up is good.

[lizzziierp]

Alivia Dawn

Mirage/Collector/Member of Commander's guild She/her. Heterosexual. Divorced. 169cm / 5'6 feet tall.

Personality: Caring, Calm, Sincere, Quiet, Observing, Critical, Adventurous, Perfectionist, Determined.

Backstory: As a young noble girl Alivia was promised to marry into a wealthy noble family at the young age of 16. She married Erick Elwood the eldest son of the Cavalli family whom was adopted as a child. Alivia had always been interested in the mind and after giving birth to their son at her young age of 18 she pleaded Erick to let her study the arts of mesmerism. Given the Cavalli family reputation Erick wasn't keen on the idea of Alivia putting herself in danger but realised it might contribute to keeping his new family safe.

Two years after starting her training she went for an extravagant picnic hosted by an acquianted noble family with her 2 year old toddler Andrew. The attack on Shaemoor happened and the centaurs heavily wounded Alivia and killed Andrew. In her grief Alivia enstranged herself from the outside world for years, losing any form of relationship with Erick, shutting him out. Their marriage had no love left.

Slowly Alivia started using her mesmer skills again after hearing of the threat Scarlet posed to Lion's Arch, feeling the need to mean something in the world. Together with the Pact by the side of the commander Alivia defended Lion's Arch the best she could but was faced with the effects of PTSD from the attack on Shaemoor. Eymeria, a Durmand Priory Magister and healer tended to her and helped her heal from her PTSD. They became friends and started collecting artifacts together whilst helping the commander in their endeavours to safe the world and make it a better place.

Noticable traits: 1) Mesmer Aura: Alivia seems to be enveloped by a faint purple glow, why is she continuously using her mesmer ability? 2) Expensive Ring: There's a large expensive looking ring adorned on her ring finger. 3) Nobility: She seems to carry herself with distinction, looks polished and well cared for, traits of a possible noble background. How your character might have heard of her: If your character has connections to the Durmand Priory you would have seen her come in for healing and befriend a Magister there whom she's been helping collect artifacts with for the Pact.

Face Inspiration: Amanda Schull.

[oh-my-hubris]

Loyalty Of Angels #6: Shae No Moor

Logan and Jhonny repel a centaur attack and propel one Katsulas into greatness. Which would be fine, if Kat and Jhonny didn't know each other.

1325

Shaemoor garrison was tactically important but one look at Logan told Jhonny that the Captain was more concerned for the loss of life in the moment. Centaurs had overrun Shaemoor village and the Seraph had their hands full dealing with it. 

“Head back to Divinity’s Reach,” Logan ordered Jhonny. “There’ll be another push soon.” 

Jhonny gave him a skeptical look and summoned Betty and a shadow fiend. “Right, because you don’t need every able sword arm at the moment. The Seraph have this completely covered.”

Logan scowled at him. 

Jhonny lifted an eyebrow in silent challenge. 

Logan sighed, conceding the point. “Stay close then.” 

“I always do.” 

“Captain!” Jhonny and Logan both looked up to where a scout was shouting for Logan's attention. “We’ve got civilian reinforcements coming! Not many but a few.” 

Logan set his jaw. “Good. We’ll need them.” 

“So now you’re admitting it.” Jhonny jibed. There was something equal parts warming and irritating about Logan's desire to keep him, specifically, safe. It was nice to be loved. 

It was also irritating because it made his job more difficult and he didn't like the idea of Logan getting himself murdered with whatever thrilling heroics occured to him.

The civilian reinforcements, mostly farmers, arrived just as the next centaur push did. Jhonny swung. The blade hit bone and didn't quite go through it but sent the centaur hooves over head where Logan could then cave its skull in with a mace. He kept near Logan, Betty running interference. The geas weighed Jhonny down, reminding him of his duty, keeping the anxiety at bay. Logan would live because he would give his life to ensure it. 

Jhonny had come to rely on that feeling. It gave him a stability he'd never known. He liked it, whether that was the magic or something organic didn't really matter to him. He wouldn't fail Logan the way he'd failed Quinn those years ago.

One of the civilian reinforcements caught Logan’s attention. A necromancer who headed the charge into the centaur column. His vestments marked him as a priest of Grenth, but a young one. 

Most of what caught Logan's attention was probably the way the man flowed over centaurs with a tide of minions.

Very efficient. Logan admired efficacy.

The defenders successfully drove the centaurs back across the bridge and into the hills. The centaur shaman summoned a colossal earth elemental to cover the herd’s retreat. 

Two arms, skeletal and made of earth ripped out of the hillside.

Crap, Jhonny thought.

“What is that?” someone shouted. 

“That,” Logan shouted back. “Is a threat! With me!” 

The words I hate you were silent and the eye roll was implied as Jhonny charged after Logan. He tried not to think about the loss of life. Most of the civilian reinforcements had been cut down already. It was one thing to give his own life for Kryta, but these men and women enjoyed none of the perks he got for it. 

It was tragic and unfair.

But he stuck close to Logan. He knew, not what was more important, but where his priorities were. 

The Priest was up at the base of the giant hands, surrounded by minions, slashing at bone with a pair of daggers. 

“It’s gonna blow,” Logan shouted. 

Jhonny leapt, slamming into Logan's chest and dragging him to the ground out of the way as the earth elemental burst open in a blinding light and thundering sound that made his ears ring. 

Blackness swallowed him when something collided with the back of his skull. 

***

“Jhonny!”

Something shook him roughly.

“I can feel you breathing, get up!” 

Jhonny groaned. He opened one eye and found Logan’s face, surrounded by a curtain of brown hair. His mouth was tugged into a worried frown.

“Do you have to bark orders at me when I’m unconscious?” Jhonny asked as Logan pulled away and offered a hand to pull him to standing. His head throbbed. 

“Yes,” Logan shook his head a little. “Spread out, look for survivors.” 

Jhonny obeyed, rubbing the back of his head to find the bloodied goose egg. The hillside was strewn with debris and bodies. The only comfort was that there were almost as many centaurs as humans lying in the dirt. 

It was a grim comfort. 

There would be notifications later. Badges to collect and return to loved ones. Bodies to bury and rites to perform. 

His own badge hung against his skin, a reminder that he was bound to the dead lying around him. He wasn't a Seraph, not really, but any more he felt like he had a duty to them. It was a weird feeling, even several years later. He didn't think he'd ever shed the dirty teenager skulking through the back alleys cutting purse strings.

And he didn't particularly want to.

But his life had taken a sharp right turn at some point.

He found a single survivor and had to hope that Logan had had better luck: The survivor, the Priest of Grenth was lying nearest to the blast, barely breathing with his skull bleeding and his vestments torn. His short black hair was clumped where the blood had turned the upturned dirt to mud. This close, the man was unmistakable. 

Katsulas was Andrew’s adopted son. He had joined Grenth’s priesthood as a young teenager, long before Jhonny had started hanging around in any real sense so their interactions had been limited. 

Katsulas was sort of… frustratingly handsome. He had warm brown skin, jet black hair and a meticulously maintained black beard. He also, and this was important, hated Jhonny. And Jhonny wasn’t too fond of him. 

These two things were both related and probably fed into one another.

Katsulas was a self-righteous prick with a sarcastic streak. 

He was also something of a hero now and there was nothing Jhonny could do about that.

“Logan!” Jhonny shouted. “Logan I found a live one!”  

Logan thundered over, armor clanking. He stooped beside Katsulas and checked his breath. “He needs a healer.” 

“That or a priest.” Jhonny shrugged, his head still throbbing. “Luckily they’re usually the same thing.”

Logan rolled his eyes at Jhonny and scooped Katsulas up into his arms, holding him securely. “He’s a hero.” 

Jhonny nodded. That would make Andrew happy, assuming Katsulas didn’t die. “I know him,” he said, following after Logan. “You remember my old boss, Andrew? This is Katsulas, his adopted son.” 

“The one who hates you?” 

“Yep.”

“When we head back into the city, I want you to tell his family what happened.” 

Jhonny threw a lazy salute. “Andrew’ll like having a hero in the family.” 

Everyone already knew that Logan was a hero. It was expected that he would put his life on the line for Kryta again and again and again. And Logan was far from taken for granted, he was a household name. The joke that women swooned in the streets as he passed was a little too close to reality for Jhonny’s comfort. 

But still, looking at the body of the hero in Logan’s arms as they walked back to Shaemoor proper, Jhonny wondered if Logan took his own sacrifices for granted. 

Probably, the lummox. 

At least Logan looked cool, carrying the body of Shaemoor’s last defender, and Jhonny knew Logan well enough to know exactly how much stock he put in looking cool. 

The answer was a lot. 

Logan liked looking impressive. He was less vain than the jokes put forward, but still surprisingly and endearingly vain. Growing up on the streets there had been a running joke that Thackeray would never let anyone become a Seraph that was prettier than him. 

It wasn’t true. There were a number of Seraph who were prettier than Logan (the bristly Sergeant Tailor came immediately to mind) but it was true that there was no one as impressive. 

But that had less to do with Logan barring access and more to do with Logan just being very impressive. 

“Any other survivors?” Jhonny asked, almost dreading the answer. 

“Too few,” Logan said. “And all Seraph. None of… none of the civilians…” 

Jhonny inhaled. He set his hand on Logan's rerebrace. “Do you want me to go with you to the service?” 

Logan nodded. “It's the right thing to do.”

“Yeah. I know.” It would be a little thing to be there, openly, anyway. He'd be attending anyway to keep both eyes on Logan. 

Logan handed Katsulas off to the Priestess of Dwayna who had taken over Shaemoor’s tavern to treat the wounded and looked at Jhonny. There was tell tale exhaustion on his face that he couldn’t own up to because he was the Logan Thackeray. 

So Jhonny faked a yawn. “Can we get back to HQ now?” he asked.

“You need to be looked over,” Logan said sternly. “You took a bad blow to the back of the head.” 

Jhonny huffed and let the priestess heal the gashed lump on the back of his head and then looked at Logan. “Now can we go?" 

Logan gave him a small, soft smile. “Now we can go.” 

The rest of the week would be melancholic as preparations were made for the funerals. Jhonny knew he'd spend the time waffling between letting Logan linger in the respectable mourning and trying to get him to laugh.

He wanted Logan to laugh.

****

Jhonny didn’t visit the tavern as often as he was supposed to. A year or so ago he had moved into one of the empty rooms in the Thackeray estate and that had moved his center of activity around town to the noble quarter. Which was weird. Prior to getting this job (pair of jobs) anytime he'd been around the noble quarter had been crime. Breaking and enterings, pickpocketing, a couple of muggings probably but those were more risky. 

Now he woke up there. Slept there. Walked to work from there. Sometimes did his shopping there.

It was weird, but he had largely adjusted. 

And not mugged anyone. 

Salma district was still familiar. Queen's Heart had been home for most of his life and after leaving early to make room, Jhonny had lived in the streets and back alleys here. The cobbles under his feet, less even than the set stones that made up the noble quarter's roads, led him to the tavern. It was getting late, not quite to closing but enough that more people weren't really coming in. It was quiet, but not dead. 

Petra pinched him as he started to pass her. 

Jhonny stopped. He rubbed the spot and gave her an apologetic smile. “I know, I know, I never visit anymore.” 

She stuck her tongue out and then threw her arms around his neck and pressed her nose against him. “I miss you and you make a good stand-in boyfriend when guys get grabby.” 

“I’ll happily break more arms for you, Pet.” He hugged her, petting her back a little.” But right now I need to talk to your dad about Katsulas.” 

Petra pulled away and gave Jhonny a worried look. “What’s wrong with Kat?” 

“He’s being hailed as a hero.” Jhonny was quick to assuage the worry. “The garrison was attacked by centaurs. Your brother was in the area, apparently, and helped Captain Thackeray hold the line.” 

“Where is he? He’s not…” 

Jhonny smiled at her and shook his head. “He’ll be fine, Pet. He’s injured and recovering in Shaemoor, at the inn there but we set him right in front of a priestess. Literally directly in front of. He’ll be back to telling you I'm a good-for-nothing in no time.”

Petra nodded and her lower lip stopped wobbling. “I’ll tell dad. You should stick around though. I’m on shift but it’s quiet and I would love the company.” 

Jhonny sighed. “I’ve gotta get back to Thackeray. We lost a number of people and I need to start cataloging that and sending out Letters Of Condolence.” 

And keep Logan upright because he didn't fail well. 

“You were more fun before you got all responsible,” Petra complained.

“Wasn’t I just?” He gave a wistful sigh. “But it’s the job.” 

And he loved it.

[anghraine]

Stuff about my version of the GW2 PC, not in dossier format:

- Her full name is Althea Fairchild and she’s a young Ascalonian noblewoman who has spent most of her life in Divinity’s Reach.

- She’s the younger child of Minister Ailoda Langmar of Divinity’s Reach [ambient dialogue here] and Lord Edmund Fairchild of Ebonhawke.

- Edmund has been dead for some time, but Althea has maintained close ties to her Ebonhawke relatives—especially Edmund’s twin sister, Lady Elwin Fairchild—and is fiercely proud of them and the city.

- The Fairchilds—including Althea—are proud to trace their lineage back to Lady Irene Fairchild, a mesmer in the Ascalon Vanguard who survived the Searing, led refugees to Kryta, and eventually fought in the Ebon Vanguard alongside Gwen Thackeray.

- Ailoda’s family, meanwhile, descends from a niece of Captain Samantha Langmar who joined the refugees fleeing over the Shiverpeaks. The Langmars have received Krytan positions and occasionally intermarried with Krytans, but those spouses were largely assimilated into the Ascalonian community in Rurikton, and the Rurikton Langmars regard themselves as Ascalonian.

- Apart from her father’s death, Althea lived a largely sheltered and frivolous life in Divinity’s Reach until the apparent death of her older sister, Sergeant Deborah Fairchild of the Seraph, in a mysterious centaur ambush. Ailoda was devastated and Althea, with unexpected competence, took charge while burying her own grief. This continued for several months until a friend of the Langmars, Countess Anise, interceded and began Althea’s training as a mesmer.

- About a year later, the “real” story begins with Althea heading out of the city in order to get a taste of the real world before going to help her family in Ebonhawke.

Per the game, she finds Shaemoor under siege by centaurs etc and rushes to help Captain Logan Thackeray—mostly because it’s The Right Thing To Do, but part of her gets a kick out of the knowledge that she, a Langmar, is fighting alongside the descendant and heir of Gwen Thackeray, right hand and successor of the original Captain Langmar. But before long, the bond between them is much more about their own friendship and his older-brotherly mentorship of her than anything their ancestors did.

- It becomes particularly strong as they investigate the ambush that led to Deborah’s apparent death. Ultimately, they’re able to find Deborah and others of her company, free them from captivity, and bring them home.

- Althea’s not a Separatist nor fond of Separatists, but she is intensely Ascalonian in her identity and sympathies, and loathes the Charr despite intellectually understanding the necessity of working with them against the dragons.

- Much later, she does actually go to Ebonhawke, bond with her Fairchild relatives, and fight throughout the Fields of Ruin to defend the city and their people. She becomes more accustomed to interacting with Charr who aren’t always the enemy, but still resents them, even while the clock ticks down until she’s set to meet her mentor in the Order of Whispers.

[archesa]

A question for you, if I may - since Anwen has the Lost parents storyline, how does, if at all, that differ from canon in your verse? Who are her parents? Tell us about them!!! Did she ever look for them? Does she know she's adopted?

Ouuuh!! You know, I just realised I never got to share that backstory, and I cannot thank you enough for the opportunity!!

I gave a lot of thoughts to that backstory before I even got to play through it and decided very early on that since I wanted the Lost Parents story but also wanted Anwen to have the Noble background, she needed to have been adopted by a Noble family, and decided to make the Farens her family (and Lord Faren her brother and no longer "just" her childhood friend)! What I could not have fathomed however is how well the canon Lost Parents storyline would fit in 'my' Anwen's story! So... Let's go for the full disclosure!

Anwen was taken in as a baby by the Farens. She was too young to remember anything but vague images, faint glimpses of memories she was not sure she had not fabricated of her blood parents, yet the Farens never hid that she had been adopted (. They were dear friends of her parents and had sworn to take care of her if any harm should befall them.

So, she grew up with stories, with the assurance that her parents had not abandoned her, that they were honorable people, good friends, and that she was loved by them till the end - at the hands of bandits, somewhere between the Reach and Lion’s Arch...

Unbeknownst to the Farens, their old friends were both agents of the Shining Blade, and went missing in action, lost to the fires of the White Mantle.

Hence, Anwen grew under the distant watch of the Blade. But most importantly, she grew up loved by the Farens, raised by dotting parents, alongside an adoring brother. Despite strained beginings, Anwen's childhood was a very happy one, indeed.

Unfortunately, her feats as the Heroine of Shaemoor would remind more ill-intended parties that the Evergreen line was yet to be uprooted. The assassins of her parents sent her the missing half of the amulet she'd been wearing since infancy, to lure her into meeting them, in the Palace gardens.

Anwen fell into their trap, but defended herself, two Shining Blade exemplars - Salia and Mehid - rushing to her aid only to realise she had all but already dealt with her assaillants. After a long investigation led in cooperation with the Blade and the Seraph, she disrupted the Mantle’s plans and found the truth about her parents death and Sadia and Mehid helped her find her parents’ resting place.

She made peace with their passing - but kept a strong hatred for the White Mantle, one that would culminate after the attack on Divinity’s Reach and Lake Doric.

She holds, if anything out of respect for her parents’ memory, the Shining Blade in high regard, and is somewhat honoured to follow in their footsteps when she has to take a vow to protect the Blade’s secrets, in her hunt for Balthazar. (even if her collaboration with the Shining Blade did involve a certain Exemplar getting most closely acquainted with her fist, down in Abaddon’s Reliquary...)

[primeval-scion-of-the-mists]

Commander Week, Day 1: Origins

Where does your Commander come from? How did they grow up? Who influenced them when they were young and impressionable? What were their goals and aspirations? If they are Sylvari, what was it like waking up from the Dream?

Adayra (Main Commander)-

Adayra grew up under the care of her older sister Rayanna on the streets of Divinity’s Reach after their parents died from a Centaur attack. While her sister joined the Seraph, Adayra went in the opposite direction and became a petty thief. At first, she only stole food or a few coins now and then to get by, but after her sister went missing, she resorted to becoming a full-time criminal. One day when out stealing food, she ran into another thief by the name of Kaiden. At first they fought, but after both being spotted by some nearby Seraph Guards, they worked together to escape and have been close friends ever since. 

It wasn’t until the attack on Shaemoor that Adayra turned away from a life of crime. While knocked out after the elemental exploded, she dreamt of a mysterious woman with a phoenix, both of whom looked to be made of light. While she couldn’t remember what the woman said, she could feel that this woman was a messenger of Kormir and that she had blessed her, giving her an opportunity to turn away from a life of deceit and instead walk a new path of honesty. Adayra had never cared much for the Gods, but after the strange dream, she had to admit she was a little intrigued now. Plus, with people now calling her “The Hero of Shaemoor”, she was loving the respect and admiration she was getting and wanted more, and, y’know, it just felt good helping people for once. So, with the help of Captain Logan, she turned her back on her life of crime and set out to help those in need, later on joining the Vigil and then the Pact.

Vesuvia (AU Commander)- (tw: abuse)

Vesuvia was born in the Flame Legion and lived there for the first couple years of her life. Her time in there was tough. It was filled with strict rules and abuse, especially from her father. Vesuvia was unsatisfied with the roles the Flame Legion tried to push on her, so at night she would sneak out with her sister Etna and some other female cubs to learn various fighting and survival techniques. One day, however, her father found out. Furious, her father interrupted one of the secret lessons and killed their mentor before dragging his cubs back home by their tails to punish them (as well as their mother for “allowing” them to sneak out at night). It was that night that Vesuvia would receive the burn scar on the side of her face and that Etna would be blinded.

Life got better for Vesuvia when she escaped her cruel father and his legion by escaping to the Black Citadel during the night with her mother and sister. However, many charr didn’t trust them and still thought of her as an enemy. Because of this, she was forced to work harder to prove to them that she was trustworthy and would never go back to the Flame Legion. Eventually, Vesuvia would gain the trust of most of her warband, particularly Clawspur who would become her closest friend and sparring partner. Unfortunately, years later she would lose everyone but Clawspur and their irritating Legionnaire Urvan Steelbane in the battle against Duke Barradin. After the battle, Vesuvia grew bitter and blamed Steelbane for their warband’s death because he split everyone up. She would eventually turn against him and battle him in the Bane to take over as Legionnaire. After winning the fight and becoming legionnaire, she would begin traveling through Ascalon more and helping anyone she could with her rebuilt warband. Later on she would be promoted to Centurion and join the Vigil, then the Pact.

Manawydan (AU Commander for my EU account)-

Manawydan’s time in the Dream was a peaceful one. He had a thirst for knowledge and spent much of his time learning as much as he could while he waited to awaken. When not out learning, he would sit by the ocean and ponder about who he is and what he was meant to do. Everything changed, however, when the Nightmare began to infect the Dream and he was called to defend it. After defeating the Shadow of The Dragon, Manawydan awoke abruptly at the edge of the Grove within the village of Astorea. It was time for him to explore the world, but the encounter with the Nightmare had shaken him so he stuck close to the Grove for the first few months of his life. It wasn’t until he met Caithe again that he would begin to be braver as she became both his friend and mentor. He then started wandering farther from the Grove and helping anyone he came across. Later on, he would join the Priory and then the Pact.

[skaald-of-the-hearth-fires]

DoF:RefTE chapter 8 - Elemental

Dreams of Freedom: Reforging the Edge

Chapter eight: Elemental | (AO3 link)

In her chambers, Jennah, Queen of Kryta, paces in worry, hours after midnight, having barely slept. Countess Anise, personal guard of the queen, sits on a luxuriously-upholstered chaise, hands folded demurely, eyes bright and alert, watching.

Jennah had given up trying to come up with some political stratagem to circumvent Minister Caudecus’ scheming. She’d interceded in his argument with Logan’s second-in-command, informing the venerable Minister of her position on the matter, but he would not be moved. She had spent hours with Anise, desk scattered with parchments, calculating favors she is owed from various nobles and how she can gain more - various requests she could concede to, for example - to gain a faction’s support.

Nothing worthwhile had turned up, although Jennah will ensure the law is modified as soon as she can convene the Chamber of Ministers - as soon as daylight if possible.

Caudecus has a lot of influence, but not enough to stop that. Not when Caudecus is so obviously exploiting a loophole - although why he would be so obvious is beyond her. He’s usually far subtler, but of course he and Logan have been at loggerheads since Logan was made Captain five years ago. And he’d been at loggerheads with Logan’s predecessor, Dylan Thackeray, long before that.

Loyal captains are hard to come by. It seems the Thackerays breed them well.

“What if he’s hurt?” Jennah asks Anise for the ten thousandth time as she paces in her chambers.

“Then he will recover,” comes the quiet reply for the ten thousandth time. “Logan is resilient; you know it best of all.”

Jennah returns to pacing. This is no ordinary battle, else Caudecus would not be so blatantly opposing his access to reinforcements. Something important is going on.

“It is beyond conscionable,” Jennah bursts out, “that a Legate Minister should have the power to limit Kryta’s access to military force in a time of danger!”

Logan’s arms groan in protest as he raises his sword. He is warring with bone-deep exhaustion.

“Well said,” Anise says stoically.

Jennah fumes. She doesn’t have the support to oppose Caudecus on a matter of written law. Even now, she cannot risk dividing Kryta. Not on a whim; not on a worry. “What… what if I lose him?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. She curls up next to Anise on the chaise, slippered feet tucking underneath her for warmth.

Anise wraps her arms around Jennah and remains silent for a long moment. “Then he will fall defending you, and Kryta, and he will have died content.”

“Oh, don’t talk like that!” Jennah cries, burying her face in Anise’s shoulder. “Is there nothing we can do to help?”

“I won’t ‘talk like that,’” Anise says gently, “if you will likewise abstain. Don’t worry - Logan will come to no harm.”

“I cannot help but worry!”

Logan fights exhaustion and sleep and relaxation just as desperately as he fights the centaurs when they come.

“You cannot send help without violating the law of Kryta. If that is a political step you feel secure enough to take…”

Frustration bubbles out of Jennah with a cry. “Oh, Anise, I cannot - !“ and she returns to pacing, up and down in the large room. “What if he’s hurt?” she asks again, plaintively. “He’s out there - fighting - without adequate troops!”

Anise’s lips curve into a rare, gentle smile. “Would you call seven against a dragon champion ‘adequate troops?’”

Logan fights to get moving again, fights with himself and sometimes he doesn’t move when he tells himself to move.

Jennah chuckles softly. “Well - I suppose - when you put it like that - “

“So, will you sleep now? You can do no more good tonight, and will do little tomorrow if you are not rested.”

“Oh, I - I don’t know, Anise. I think not. I don’t think I can rest ‘till I know he is safe. He is in danger, whether or not he has beaten it before.”

“At least lie down,” Anise urges. “Worry in your bed. Dream your dreams of him; perhaps in that you can find peace.”

Jennah reluctantly allows herself to be led to her bed, hung with embroidered drapery and gold, and lies down. She stares up at the canopy. Logan is in mortal danger. He is quite capable, of course, and had pulled out of many similar messes before, but… Jennah cannot shake the feeling of doom and despair that had settled over her.

Logan, at times, faces the oncoming stampede, hands stuck to the hilt of his sword and unable to lift it.

Jennah props herself up on one arm and looks over at Anise. “Anise, do you think - “ She pauses for a moment, struggling with words.

Anise looks at her expectantly.

Jennah opens her mouth again.

She is interrupted by Logan’s voice speaking directly into her mind. His voice is weary and labored, and resignation tinges his tone. I’m sorry… my queen.

Her heart skips a beat. No - no! Logan! He is speaking to her from his heart - as she had once spoken to his in the midst of danger. He can’t have already given up - !

Jennah scrambles and nearly falls out of the bed, sheets tangling about her ankles. Anise looks up in alarm.

“He’s calling to me,” she murmurs. “Logan is calling to me.” She scrambles to her feet, Anise helping her up. Jennah takes a deep breath and regains her composure. “Logan is in trouble. Real trouble.”

Anise’s brow creases and she frowns, confusion marring her features.

“He’s calling to me!” Jennah insists at her friend’s disbelief, glancing around for her scepter. “I have to go! He needs me!”

Comprehension dawns on Anise’s face and she nods. She had been there when Jennah bonded Logan to her. She had been there again when Jennah’s heart had cried out to Logan - and he came and turned the tide of a battle, if not of a war.

Jennah sees her shift from Anise, concerned lady-in-waiting and friend, to Countess Anise, Master Exemplar of the Shining Blade, loyal advisor, bodyguard, and right hand of the queen.

“It is late,” Countess Anise says. “My magic is spent and you are tired. What - ?”

Jennah lifts the royal iron-wrought scepter from its place by the door and turns to her advisor with eyes like steel. He’d come for her. She can do no less. “Take me to the city wall.”

Anise bows her head in acquiescence.

~oOoOo~

Logan can’t make himself move - he just stands there as the centaur throws back its head and bellows a challenge. Logan’s body had shut down. It feels good - like resting while standing up. He can’t move.

His Seraph surge forward and surround the centaur - the lone centaur - and it puts up a serious fight. Logan manages to stumble forward a few steps while the Seraph (and the trio of civilians) batter it down, some of them falling in the process.

Logan can barely stagger two steps forward when two soldiers retreat out of the fray, carrying Lieutenant Francis. Logan grimaces - this is the third time Francis has been taken out of the fight, but at least it seems it’ll be over soon.

The centaur does finally turn and - miraculously - flee the garrison. There are no other centaurs. They’d made it. Logan allows himself to relax.

The ranger and the mesmer are running after the centaur, and some of the less weary Seraph run with them.

Logan slowly drags himself out onto the bridge. He thinks of calling them back, but if they have the energy to run and take down the centaurs’ leader, Logan isn’t going to speak against it. A smile spreads across his face. They’d done it. He’d survived. Shaemoor had survived.

Kryta will stand another day.

Logan checks his injuries - he might have a few broken ribs, from where a centaur had kicked him earlier, but that will heal. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. He'll see Jennah again. He'll have his opportunity to make a chance.

The ambient magic stirs like a motionless earthquake - cracks creeping along the ground, but no shaking. No rumble. Just cracks quietly spiderwebbing outward in an ever-growing expanse, like something twining gently across his skin. Logan glances back at the centaur and those following it. He opens his mouth to request its capture, not death. Logan wants to question it closely.

But it is standing on the hilltop beyond the bridge, hands in the air, and surrounded by flying earth and debris... casting a powerful spell. Seraph and the three civilians are clambering up the hill towards it.

Oh, no…

But he can’t quite react to this new threat right away. He’d already relaxed. His body isn’t going to be moving far anytime soon.

The earth circling the centaur suddenly coalesces into two gigantic hands, an elemental rivaling the garrison itself for size, reaching for the sky. The centaur, standing between the two hands, gives one last gesture and topples over. The dangerous whirlwind of flying debris goes on unabated.

Logan heaves a sigh and immediately winces, putting a hand to his chest. The centaur sage’s death means little in the face of this threat, and Logan can only hope his men and the civilians can handle it. He’s useless. That elemental - possibly a greater elemental, although Logan had only ever heard of them - is probably mobile, highly ranged, nigh-indestructible, and with a mind of its own. There can be no retreat from this. Only the garrison stands between it and Divinity's Reach. A chill runs down Logan's back.

They had this up their sleeves? Scrap starving out the city in weeks - those giant hands would batter down the walls in days.

They still might. Even with no centaurs guiding it... Logan's heart races.

One of his soldiers gives a shout of fear upon seeing the greater earth elemental. “By all Six Gods,” she shouts, “what is that thing?”

Logan sets his jaw. Those hands are a threat to Divinity’s Reach, Queen Jennah, and Kryta. It is his duty, and that of every Seraph, to stand between them and destruction. Logan raises his voice - about the only thing he can do - to include all the Seraph in his reply, and speaks with confidence. “That, soldier, is a threat. And we’re going to take it down!”

~oOoOo~

Jennah stares over the rampart of Divinity’s Reach at the distant, square-shaped silhouette of the Shaemoor Garrison… and the shifting, glowing mound beyond it. The wind flaps the queen’s robe about her feet. Jennah has eyes only for the something that is commanding a swirling vortex of ambient magic… right in front of the garrison Logan is defending.

Jennah’s expression firms. There is only one thing she can do. She grips her robe tighter around herself and draws herself up to her full height. “Anise, I’m going to overload it.” She draws out her scepter and holds it at her side, between herself and Anise.

Anise’s eyes widen ever-so-slightly, then nods. She steps up to stand next to Jennah and places her hand over the queen’s on the scepter. Jennah raises her left hand toward the disturbance. Anise raises her right.

Queen Jennah of Kryta summons her magic.

Her palm glows purple.

~oOoOo~

Logan can only stand there as his men hammer on the giant hands of the greater elemental... and the smaller elementals it had spawned.

Logan had failed Kryta in numerous ways tonight, and now he can’t physically move. Kryta's welfare is his responsibility, and here he is on the sidelines not lifting a finger while his men batter on the elemental hand. In fact, he's still forcing one foot after another, trudging toward the conflict.

But none of their efforts seem to harm it. Its sheer size shrugs off all attacks, physical and magical.

At least it isn’t moving - but the capital city of Kryta is in very real danger if it can’t be killed. There has to be some way.

Logan remembers Caithe’s words: everything has a weakness. You just have to find it. He remembers Rytlock roasting devourer tails with his sword. He might never see them again.

No! Logan shakes his head and focuses. He will live, and he won’t see Rytlock again. This elemental has a weakness, and it’s up to him to find it and kill it.

Logan’s magic thrums within his veins. It had been hours since he’d cast a spell. But all his magic is useless if he has no energy to manipulate with it.

Well… I have plenty of energy. It’s just, you know, keeping me alive right now - if barely. Living takes a lot of energy. But if Divinity’s Reach is in danger… if Jennah is in danger…

A purple bolt of magic shoots through the air and spears straight into the elemental’s magical core. It seems to shudder at the impact. The bolt leaves a purple trail behind it, pointing back to…

Divinity’s Reach. Jennah. Only she could cast a spell from this distance, much less cast and hope for it to be effective.

The purple trail hovers in the sky. Hope rises within Logan’s heart just looking at it. His queen is watching. His queen is fighting. Seraph glance up between trading blows with centaurs, only to return quickly to their battles.

The elemental begins to glow from within. Significant power must be pouring into it from that bolt, that purple trail. My queen came, Logan marvels. She came for me! She is his reinforcements in this battle. One of the giant hands begins to shake. The ambient magic quivers violently.

Another bolt soars beside the first, another purple trail. Logan’s eyes light up at the sight. The second hand trembles. The whole elemental is destabilizing. But even two BOOMA’s from a mesmer as powerful as the Krytan Queen - probably with Anise backing her up - are not enough to bring down the elemental.

Purple magic coalesces in the air near the trails. The image of Jennah shimmers into existence, standing in the air and gesturing with an iron-wrought scepter. It is a mesmer clone - insubstantial, unreal, and yet a projection of Jennah’s presence and power onto the battlefield.

Purple magic gathers around the head of the scepter. The illusion slashes. A bolt of magic, glowing so brightly Logan has to shield his eyes, soars out of it and stabs like lightning into the heart of the elemental.

The greater elemental rumbles ominously, glowing with yellow energy. The ambient magic quivers like still water disturbed - ripples circling outward, the site of impact heaving dangerously.

Logan draws a sharp breath at the sight, but the next moment he shouts, “brace yourselves, I think it’s going to explode!”

Even as he speaks, the hand crumples upward into a floating ball of debris. The Seraph barely have time to at the elemental and turn away before the elemental falls thunderously to the ground. A shockwave ripples across the hill, and many soldiers stumble and fall. Huge boulders and other debris roll down the hill, freshly-churned earth falling in chunks.

Seraph shout in alarm. Others scream in pain. Some yell in desperation as their friends fall under the landslide.

Logan cannot move. He tries to step forward to help, but his whole body groans in protest.

The illusion of the queen wavers. Sways. Flickers. Alarm sparks in Logan’s heart.

Then it winks out, along with the streamers of purple. Logan stares upward at where they had been, transfixed; only one thought pounding through his head. Is she alright?

It takes no small amount of power to cast a spell like that, from that distance - Logan remembers the day, five years ago, when she had cast a mighty spell to end a battle, and perhaps a war. Afterward, she had mustered the energy to make a grand proclamation from the top of a tower, and then toppled into Anise’s arms and remained unconscious for days.

Is she alright?

[queer-as-used-by-tolkien]

Forward Thinking

TL;DR: Commander contemplates the Scrying Pool and its uses in viewing her past.

“Commander, you alright?” Braham asks.

Tiffany Commander is staring into the Scrying Pool thoughtfully, but she isn’t in a vision. She sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine, Braham. Thanks for asking,” she adds, with a small smile.

“You seem…” Braham trails off for a moment.

“I’m thinking,” Commander replies simply. “So much has happened recently.”

“What did you see in the last vision?”

“Almorra’s death. It… I…” Commander sighs. “I knew it before, but it’s so much more real now. Bangar has to be stopped. Before he does something he’ll regret… and before he corrupts Ryland further.”

“I’m not sure about him, Commander,” Braham tells her.

Commander shakes her head. “I know. I don’t call him an ally, either. But he’s young, and I think his heart is still pure. But if Crecia tries to defend Bangar again, I might have a fit.”

“Bangar tried to kill you,” Braham reminds her. “Even she can’t stay on his side after that.”

“Yeah,” Commander agrees, and falls silent.

The two of them stare at the pool for a long time, before Braham leaves, and the Commander is left alone again.

See visions of the past… with a memento.

Commander does not know if this is a good idea. She’d only recently come out of the years-long funk that Trahearne’s death had started, but she is wiser for it. She knows it might be good for her to see him again, even in a memory. But how will it work, going into my own memory?

Commander does not lack a memento. She carries two on her at any given time - both of her weapons. Caladbolg, of course, and the Pact bow that Trahearne had given her after Zhaitan’s defeat. Her Pact rank pin might work, as well.

But again - is going into a memory of Trahearne… wise? She has by no means forgotten him, but leaving painful memories alone and living for the future, not the past… Trahearne would prefer her to focus on Bangar and Jormag. On mentoring Braham and Taimi.

It would be like a chance to say goodbye, at long last. Finally put this pain to rest. The vision with Caladbolg - so many years ago, now - hadn’t been timely. Commander had been angry, frustrated, resentful - at everything and everybody. She hadn’t been ready to say goodbye.

But now… now she is more than ready. But do I need to? The real transition was when she stopped fighting for the past - for Trahearne’s memory, for his legacy of someday we will kill the last of them, just because HE said it - and started truly fighting for the future, for only then will Tyria be safe. She fights now for Braham, and Taimi, and Rytlock and Crecia - for Jhavi and the Vigil, now leaderless - for Eveanin, still so young, for Canach, who needs to lighten up a little… she fights for the future. Instead of pursuing a desperate revenge fueled by hate and fear and loss, that barely made any sense because Mordremoth was already dead.

Do I need to say goodbye?

Commander doesn’t know. She wants to - oh, she wants to, longs to speak to him one last time, even in memory when he can’t reply, can’t ever know it. But as Commander looks into the pool, wondering if - if she did go in - would she ever come out again? Aurene might drag her out, but then she’d be just as much a mess as she was before, unable to lead in this troubling time.

Or maybe, she would come out again. But she’d go back, again and again. She’d be addicted to it, need it like medicine. Need to hear Trahearne’s words of hope again.

I… I might not be strong enough for that.

Commander grimaces, twining her hand through the fur on Beorn’s back. She’d only just recently become able to admit weakness to herself, instead of bottling it up and trying to ignore it, trying to pretend she was perfect and a strong Commander. But she’d learned - or maybe Aurene had taught her, or Taimi, shown her that pretending just makes it worse in the end. Good thing, too, or my recent injury would have stolen all my self-confidence and left me with shame in front of my allies. No… my friends.

Maybe she can be Trahearne to her friends. She can be hope and a future to them, and maybe teach them to move on if she dies, instead of getting caught in the mire of grief like she was.

Commander stands up, slowly. Maybe some other time. Later. When things calm down a little. She turns and walks away from the Scrying Pool, Beorn at her side, Caladbolg on her back, and her friends awaiting her direction. I’ve come so far.

Besides… maybe normal memory is better, anyway. She can travel to the places her memories actually happened, explore old places anew at her own pace. Normal memory is hers, after all, and she treasures it.

“Hey, uh, Commander?” Rytlock says as she passes him.

“Yeah?”

“I, uh… I know you were close to Almorra. It… couldn’t’ve been easy, seeing her die.”

“It wasn’t. But I’ll be fine. Thanks, Rytlock.”

“No problem, Commander. You know we’re here if you need it.”

“Getting all soft and emotional, Rytlock?” Commander teases.

“No! It’s just that… well, Logan would skin me if I didn’t look after his Hero of Shaemoor.”

“Nice to know you still care,” Commander grins. Well. It’s not Logan’s fault he’s not as awesome as Trahearne… but he still tries. He’s still a friend.

“Commander, there you are!” Eveanin calls, hurrying over. “I haven’t seen you since you came back wounded from that fight with Bangar! Are you okay? You look too cheerful. Is something wrong? Are you hiding something?”

Commander frowns. “Where did you learn to read me so well?”

“Experience. I’ve been your student for eight years, Commander, and you’ve eluded me enough times. I’ve got you now.”

“Ah, well, I truly am sorry, then. I’ve just changed again. But look on the bright side; Bangar murdered Almorra, so now we get to go kill him.”

“Wait, seriously?” Eveanin gapes. “Bangar killed her?”

“Bangar killed her. After trying to delegate to Ryland, who refused.”

“Well, good for him, then,” Eveanin snarls.

“Good for him,” Commander agrees.

[i-mybrunettelady]

Been pondering Cantha and I came to this strikingly funny conclusion - one of the very first things they did (rightfully so) is scratch her ego. Now she’s always had an ego, it’s one of the causes of her emerging to defend Shaemoor in the first place, and even in her lowest point, in the depths of self-loathing, I think it still had its head above water, as she held a high opinion of her abilities (though not necessarily herself as a person - to this day she refuses to engage with the question of whether she’s a good person because she keeps coming to the answer no, and nobody likes being told they’re a bad person, even if we as the readers press X to doubt)

But one thing she hasn’t had to do in a while is prove it. In Tyria everyone knows she’s capable, whereas in Cantha people are half convinced she’s a Krytan legend of the mythological hence not really existent variety. It’s not enough that she just shows up and says, “Hi I’m Commander Alysannyra Ainsaph.” She has to actually prove it. Tickling no 1. Then some people treat her like a criminal (again understandable, she’s been wreaking havoc, she’s not dense) and that turns into this itch that she immediately correctly identifies as ego and tries to keep at bay to varying degrees of success.

But it doesn’t mean there aren’t any instances where she’s venting and everyone in DW is laughing their asses off because imagine this - she calls via comms to complain about some rando, an absolute fucking rando, asking if she really killed Elder Dragons. Idk man something about that makes me incredibly sappy that she, a certified badass dragonslayer, godstomper, living legend Commander, calls to rant about someone not believing she killed Elder Dragons

(Smodur also scratched her ego, but in a less innocuous way. This isn’t a Smodur-Nyra post, though I gotta write about that one sometime.)

[commander-gloryforge]

In the year 1325AE, the Village of Shaemoor is attacked by Centaurs and the Seraph struggle to protect the village against the threat. A brave but unknown hero joins the Seraph and defends the garrison side by side with Captain Logan Thackeray, and succeeds.

At the same time, the Dream of Dreams is poisoned and Caithe reaches out to the dreamers to protect the Sylvari that have yet to wake. One dreamer joins her and fends off the shadow of a dragon. During the following dawn, this Sylvari awakens, though perhaps a bit too early.

[catsfeminismchocolate]

12, 20 for whatever character you'd like!

(Cw: fire, violence, death)

12. Grudges and Vendettas

Despite her hostile appearance, Ivy is the type of person who doesn’t hate easily. However, there are 2 people who have pushed her to vengeance & fear.

The Crimson Corsair, the man responsible for her extensive scars. Her and her team were meant to work with him, but he betrayed them once the dirty work was done. He lured them into a house’s basement and set the building ablaze. Ivy was at the furthest corner from the stairs and unable to take cover, so the fireball hit her full blast. She was knocked backwards and trapped under a burning table. Her friends and colleagues had escaped, but only realised she was trapped once they were outside. Her (now ex-) boss rescued her, but not before the leather and metal of her armour had melted into her skin. Due to their criminal nature, going to a hospital wasn’t an option, so she was bedridden for weeks at the Hunter’s Lodge and her ‘doctor’ was the freshly recruited elementalist. She survived, and the scars have healed over time, but she will always have sinewy, wrinkled skin where the metal burned so deep you could see bone. Ivy longs to have her revenge on him, but lost all trace of the Corsair.

The second person is her ex boss - the same man who saved her from death. They have a complicated relationship, which started with great respect and loyalty, but decayed into mutual disdain. When Ivy found out how he was treating her friend, his partner, she confronted him. She is gifted with a sharp tongue and stabbed at all the places she knew would hurt his ego, and for that he nearly choked her while holding her over a balcony. He released her, as she had been of great use to him in the past, but Ivy disappeared that night. She refused to work for a man who could not see his hubris. She knew is MO: wipe or distort the memory of all those who quit or left, so Ivy laid low for a long time, living in fear of waking up one morning without any recollection of her work. While she harbours a great rage towards him, the fear of seeing him again keeps her from seeking him out.

20. What if’s/alternate timelines.

Before she was a criminal, Ivy was a Seraph. What if she’d never left?...

After the incident that pushed her to quit, Ivy was offered rehabilitation for a while. She was posted to a different area, helping defend the garrison at Shaemoor. It was mostly a boring job, and she didn’t understand why the centaurs were so hostile, but work was work. Her team were warned of a potential raid, and sure enough, it came. Some wannabe heroes were in the garrison with them. They broke through the centaur line and chased the chief down the bridge when all hell broke loose. The ground was shaking, it felt like a tornado had suddenly crashed onto them, and right before their eyes huge claws split the earth beneath them and wreaked havoc. An ear-splitting crack rendered her temporarily deaf, and then the claw launched a boulder the size of a dolyak towards one of the civilians who had followed them into the fight. Ivy screamed at them to get out the way and threw herself into them, sending the civilian flying out of the way. A second later, the world went black, and the last sound she heard was the crunching of her bones.

[magisterlys]

Doing some math this morning to figure out exactly how old Lys is, given the events I want her to have been alive for. I wanted to work out how her story diverges from the personal story, not being Krytan. I believe she was born in 1305, which would make her:

15 in 1320 -  when Kralkatorrik awoke. She would have already been a scout in the Vanguard and known Logan from his frequent stops in the stronghold before he was a Seraph. She was there when his brother Dylan was killed, along with 133 other Seraph, defending Ebonhawke against the branded ogres.

20 in 1325 - the start of the personal story. She wasn’t at Shaemoor, but instead picks up the personal story during the Orders events. Lys was already a novice in the Priory and recommended by her friend Logan as a liaison for the Queen. 

21 in 1326 - The events of Season 1, when she first met Braham. 

23 in 1328 - Heart of Thorns. She and Trahaerne had been together for two years when he died. 

26 in 1331 - When Joko is defeated and Lys and Braham begin to patch up their friendship. 

28 in 1333 - Now! 

Did I bork the math or dates somewhere? Probably. But now I know that she is 4 years older than Braham and I’ve wondered that for a while.