Read Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon Online

Authors: Matt Forbeck,Jeff Grubb

Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon (12 page)

BOOK: Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon
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“The worst part of it all is that the dragon didn’t care about the destruction it caused. It was going elsewhere, on a mission known only to itself. To it, the Dragonbrand was worth nothing more than your boot prints are to you. We might as well have been ants. Everything I lost that day mattered to it not one bit.

“I fell into my own personal darkness, my friends slain by a force greater than I could hope to confront.” General Almorra Soulkeeper seemed to forget that Dougal was there, her lips drawn back over bared teeth. “I became a gladium, a charr without a warband, and refused any aid in my darkness. At last, with the help of a few unlikely allies, I came to myself and knew what had to be done.

“I knew then that this was no foe that a single people could confront,” Soulkeeper said. “To have any hope of defeating an Elder Dragon, the peoples of Tyria would have to band together to fight it.”

“That’s why you formed the Vigil,” Dougal said.

“Yes,” said Almorra. “And although I work to save Tyria, I also know I act to save myself.” Almorra returned to the present time and the firelit chamber. Turning to face Dougal, she said, “Crusader Riona told me your companions died when you went into Ascalon City. They were your fellow warriors and your friends. I can understand your reticence to return there.”

“I have a dozen reasons to stay away, and not one good one to return,” said Dougal, “Yet, I accept your plan. I will lead a group into Ascalon City. I will find your Claw of the Khan-Ur. Provided, of course, you are willing to pay for my services.”

“Pay?” said Almorra, suddenly brought up short, as if the idea that payment might be required had only now crossed her mind. “Of course. You can keep everything else you find, I suppose, and split it as you see fit with your companions. And our resources are not slender by any means. What do you need?”

“Well, first off,” said Dougal, managing a tired, knowing smile, “I’ll need a new sword.”

When we went to Ascalon City before”—Dougal jabbed a finger at the map of Tyria—“we crossed the Shiverpeaks up through the Snowden route. The Lionguard have established a string of havens up there to protect the trade.”

He looked up at the two women. Killeen was soaking everything up with a focused, stern expression. Riona still had the self-satisfied smile that she wore ever since Dougal told them he had agreed to go with them to Ascalon City. As they discussed the journey, servants brought in a light lunch. Ewers of springwater were emptied, the plates of cheese, dried meats, and bread reduced to crumbs. There would be time for a real meal later, perhaps.

General Almorra, seated across from the three, said nothing but nodded.

“Then we hung north of the ruins of the Great Northern Wall and came down to the east of Ascalon City itself, looping back westward to its main gate. There were too many charr encampments otherwise,” Dougal finished.

“I always thought that the northern flank was the weakest,” said the general.

“Problem,” said Riona. “Most of your previous route is underneath the Dragonbrand now. We’ll probably see an increase in patrols along the edges of the brand now. We’ll have to move carefully.”

“No,” said the general, “we don’t have the time for a long journey. The legions’ truce faction will not wait forever. Neither will the human queen.”

“I am open to suggestions,” said Dougal.

“Asura gate,” said Almorra.

Dougal winced at the idea, but said, “There’s no asura gate to Ascalon City.”

Riona said, “There’s one in Ebonhawke, but we would have to go back to Divinity’s Reach to get use. There is no direct link between Lion’s Arch and the fortress city.”

“You’ll be going through Ebonhawke,” Almorra pointed out. “It is the closest available gate.”

Dougal scowled at the map. “Possible,” he said. “When we first left Ebonhawke”—he shot a glance at Riona—“we cut along to the south, so I know the area around Ebonhawke. But once we get closer to Ascalon, I’d be less sure.

“And while we can get to Ebonhawke,” he continued, “once there, we’re stuck. Even if we could sneak past the Iron Legion’s siege of the city, we’d still have to hike scores of miles across charr-infested lands—and through the Dragonbrand, to boot—before we even reach Ascalon City.”

“I thought of that,” replied the general. “We have a contact in Ebonhawke as well who will get you out of the city. And as for a guide across the lands of the
legions, I have already addressed that particular challenge as well.”

Something heavy knocked on the door, and Dougal—who felt it reverberate through his body—jumped at the sound of it. Soulkeeper smiled.

“The answer to those concerns has arrived,” the charr general said. Then she called out through the door: “Enter!”

The door swung inward on well-oiled hinges and revealed a powerful and lithe female charr standing at the threshold, younger than the general but no less impressive. She towered over Dougal, and the tips of her short horns brushed against the door’s lintel as she entered. Her black lips were drawn back over her full set of vicious, gleaming white teeth and fangs, as if in a perpetual snarl. Her heavy yellow eyes scanned the room, assessing everything and everyone in it as a threat and then dismissing them as beneath her notice.

Where exposed, her amber fur bore black stripes on it, like those of a tiger, although a tuft of the snowiest white poked out from beneath the collar of her armor, right above the hollow of her throat. The armor that covered most of her fur moved as silently as she did, oiled for stealth as well as combat. She bore no weapon in her hands, but she didn’t need one. She had her talons extended, each of which looked as sharp and long as a dagger.

Dougal realized how he had quickly come to accept General Almorra Soulkeeper’s presence. The leader of the Vigil being a charr no longer concerned him. This new charr, however, brought back all of Dougal’s
previous worries; despite himself, he felt his muscles tense as if expecting some sudden attack.

“Riona Grady, this is one of your opposite numbers, working out of the Black Citadel,” Soulkeeper said. “Killeen? Dougal Keane? Meet one of the finest warriors of this dragon-haunted generation: Crusader Ember Doomforge. She is to accompany you on your mission through the charr territories as both guard and guide.”

Doomforge pointedly ignored the others and spoke instead to the leader of the Vigil. “With respect, General Soulkeeper, I do not need these weaklings by my side, not for such an important mission. They would only slow me down.”

“Fine with me,” Dougal said, edging away from the new charr. She stank of death and menace. “Send her, and the rest of us can go home.”

“That is not possible,” said Almorra, speaking to Dougal but intending her words for the new arrival. “Your knowledge will be key once you arrive at Ascalon City. Crusader Doomforge will help get you there.”

“With respect …” Doomforge began once more, her eyes boring into her superior.

“Crusader Doomforge
will
help you get there,” repeated General Almorra Soulkeeper, wheeling on the other charr and pulling herself to her full height, her own claws unsheathing. Dougal didn’t think he would see a brawl break out in the general’s chamber but that the two would establish a pecking order in the charr manner, through verbal threats and displays of power.

Doomforge, for her part, shrank a little under Soulkeeper’s glare and took a step back. Dougal noted that the newcomer had retracted her claws into her paws as well.

“With respect,” said Riona, softer than the charr but no less indignant, “if we are going to use an asura gate to get to Ebonhawke, we will have to backtrack to Divinity’s Reach. We cannot bring a charr into Kryta, much less into the fortress city itself. Crusader Doomforge would be a liability.”

“Say what you like”—Doomforge’s nostrils twitched as she sniffed at the air—“they are craven, scared of the power of the charr. I can smell the fear on them from here.”

Dougal smirked at the lie. “I’m surprised you can smell anything at all,” he said. “What did you roll in on your way up here?”

Before Dougal could blink, Doomforge swung out a paw and grasped him by the shirtfront, slamming him against the stone wall. He tried to speak, but the pressure on his chest kept him from drawing a breath.

“Release him!” Soulkeeper barked out, and the pressure disappeared in an instant. Doomforge stood there with rage in her eyes.

Dougal peeled himself off the wall and gasped for breath.

“Crusader Doomforge!” Soulkeeper said sharply. “We spoke of this. For the Vigil’s sake and for our ultimate goal, one must put aside old enmities.”

Doomforge took one step back, glaring at Dougal the entire time. Dougal realized he had a tuft of orange
fur from her forearms in each of his fists. He let the fur fall to the floor, then brushed his hands together.

“In the Vigil, you leave your old wars at the door,” the general said to both Riona and the charr. “You
will
go into Ebonhawke together.” She drew back her lips as she said it, showing her feral teeth.

It was hard to tell under all the fur, but Dougal thought he saw Doomforge go pale. “I don’t see how sending me into the heart of a human stronghold will further the cause of peace,” the charr warrior said.

An idea struck Dougal, and he spoke before he thought it through. “The only charr I’ve ever seen inside Ebonhawke were in chains,” he said to Soulkeeper. He looked pointedly at Doomforge’s wrists. “It’s the only way she could make it through there alive.”

Doomforge’s slitted eyes widened into full circles as she realized what Dougal meant. “Absolutely not!” she growled. “No human will ever put me in chains!”

Soulkeeper was not nearly so upset. She ran her claws through the fur on her chin as she stared Doomforge up and down. Then she snorted. “She
might
make a convincing prisoner. I believe we have a set of shackles that would fit her.”

“General!” Doomforge’s orange fur bristled with the indignity. “You cannot be serious!”

“I am always serious,” Soulkeeper said, and Dougal believed her. “Like a claw through a knot, this is the simplest solution to this problem.”

Doomforge sputtered, “I will resign! I refuse to submit myself to such—”

Soulkeeper slammed both of her paws on her
desktop. Everyone in the room fell silent, and when Soulkeeper spoke, her words lacked malice but not menace. “I am your commander and you will obey my orders,” she said to Doomforge. “I will not tolerate insubordination—least of all from you.”

Doomforge forced a breath through her nose, then spoke with deliberate and measured words. “General. The humans of Ebonhawke will attack me on sight, and I will find it difficult to defend myself against them if I am in chains.”

“We will be your guards,” Killeen spoke up. “Everyone in Ebonhawke would stare at you, maybe even curse at you, but they would not dare touch you.”

“We can’t be dressed up as Vigil,” said Dougal, “and we can’t just pretend to be part of the Ebon Vanguard. They all know each other.”

Riona nodded, understanding. “Independents, then. Thief-takers. Bounty hunters. Even so, we would have problems walking her into town in broad daylight.”

“That would work,” said General Soulkeeper. “I have to send word to our man in Ebonhawke to make arrangements. As for the problem with broad daylight, there is a solution for that as well.”

Doomforge’s eye twitched as she glared at Riona. “I think you’re just walking me into an interrogator’s cell in Ebonhawke.”

“Stay here, then,” Dougal said. “Kitty.”

Doomforge opened her monstrous maw and roared at him for the insult. Her breath came at him like a hot wind, ruffling his hair and burning his eyes.

“Enough!” Soulkeeper’s voice blared right over
Doomforge’s roar and cut it short.

The general glared at the soldier, her wide nostrils flaring with frustration and shame at how undisciplined the younger charr’s behavior made them both appear. “Your imperator remitted you to my command,” Soulkeeper said. “You will control your temper and you will obey my orders. You. Do. Understand.”

Doomforge’s ears folded back at the general’s barely restrained fury. She licked her lips as if to say something, then bit back those words. She bowed her head and nodded. “Yes. I do.”

“Good.” Soulkeeper turned to the others. “This is our plan. It’s our best chance, whether any of you like it or not.”

Using her wide yellow eyes, the general measured each of them up in turn. Dougal wasn’t sure she liked what she saw, but she seemed resigned to work with what she had. She turned her back on them then and gazed deep into the fire.

“Stay for a moment, Doomforge,” Soulkeeper said. “The rest of you are dismissed. I suggest you get some rest before dinner. You’ll be shown to your rooms.”

The two humans and the sylvari left the general’s chamber. Dougal noticed that Riona had a grim, thoughtful grin on her face and probably could guess the nature of the conversation between the two charr on the far side of the door.

The hylek crusader took them to their rooms. Riona nodded at her door, then said, “I need to run a few errands here in Lion’s Arch. I will join you at dinner.”

BOOK: Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon
2.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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