Fanfic Warning: This is last of three vignettes I wrote about my main character in the original Guild Wars. Here is part one and part two.
“I, Alana, sworn to Dwayna, do hereby attest that this is a good and true account of Ephan Oroborz, brother to the people of Kryta. Father. Husband. And, loved by our village. His body now returned to the land. His soul to the Mists.”
Ephan stood at the edge of his small farm looking out at the marsh. The boundaries of his farm were really not an issue since everybody else in the nearby village thought the man was a fool for staking a claim in the Black Curtain. The Black Curtain was a place where the fog was said to be able to coalesce in to horrible creatures and maddened souls crackled with wispy, blue energy that would electrocute any person brave or dumb enough to enter the swamp. Ephan wondered why the villagers always dismissed the majestic Temple of Ages when talking about the Black Curtain. Some of the power of the five gods still remained at the holy place. Young brother Theophilus seemed to traverse the wetlands easily enough when the small encampment at the Temple needed more supplies. Continue reading [GW2] Echoes of the Past, Part 3
Fanfic Warning: This is one of three vignettes I wrote about my main character in the original Guild Wars. Part one can be found here. Part three will drop later this week.
Ravious Pretagata sat on the steps leading to the scrying pool centered in the great Hall of Monuments. It was the only warm place left in the massive Eye of the North. He was alone except for the rainbow phoenix that had chosen to reside in the Hall. Ravious had forgot when the great bird had entered, but he had chosen to leave it alone in any case. The lively plumage of the bird subtly contrasted the Hall’s testament to the dead. Continue reading [GW2] Echoes of the Past, Part 2
Fanfic Warning: This is one of three vignettes I wrote about my main character in the original Guild Wars. Part two and part three will drop later this week.
The family stood on the edge of the misty Krytan swamp. The eldest son pushed the small wooden boat further in to the murky waters. The boat would carry the body of his father deep into the swamp. The widow held her young daughter at her side a few steps away. They watched as the man they called husband and father was slowly carried away to the darkness. The white of the shroud that wrapped the dead man’s body was the last thing they could see as their torch light strained to remain in contact with the boat. The frogs and crickets seemed to give the man a moment of silence as the swamp’s black swallowed the boat.
Once the funeral ceremony was complete, the son turned towards his mother now as the man of the family. A silent glance upward marked the torch-bearing Priestess of Dwayna awaiting at the top of the hill. The Priest of Grenth had not waited to see the end of the funeral rite. His duties of caring for the dead man had finished when the shroud covered the last of pale flesh and the body was placed on the boat. The Priestess of Dwayna’s duties were far from over as she would have to make sure the family could survive with the gaping hole of a lost father. A lost husband. Continue reading [GW2] Echoes of the Past, Part 1