Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon by Jeff Grubb, Matt Forbeck
Authors: Jeff Grubb, Matt Forbeck
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armed supervision. “Were I you, I would strongly recommend that you not disappoint her. I don’t want to see you back here again.” He failed to elucidate whether he was referring to this cell, Divinity’s Reach, or Kryta in general.
Dougal’s mind was spinning now. “ ‘Her’?” he managed.
Logan walked to the doorway. “Ma’am?” he said.
A slim woman in chain armor entered the room, and for a half-second Dougal’s heart stopped. She had tightly wound auburn curls that stopped just short of her shoulders, and her icy blue eyes had the cold look of a military professional.
“Riona,” said Dougal softly.
“Riona Grady of the Vigil,” she said, holding up a document sealed with purple wax to the captain. “Here to take charge and responsibility for the prisoner on behalf of my order.”
Dougal held up his bare wrists to Groban. “If it’s all the same to you, Lieutenant,” he said, “I think it’d be safer for me if you put the manacles back on and closed the cell door on your way out.”
Riona did not say more than three words as Dougal regained his few confiscated belongings and followed her out of the jail.
The city of Divinity’s Reach was laid out like a great six-spoked wheel, with each spoke being a great high road that arched from the outer walls of white stone to the uppermost reaches of the city. The upper city, with its palace and senate and domed gardens, was at the hub, and the lower reaches between the arched high roads were where most people lived. Over the years, the divided sectors took on a regional flavor. The original Krytans predominated in one sector of the city, while the descendants of the Ascalonians, their homelands blasted by the charr centuries earlier, gathered in another. Other spaces between the bridges were dominated by Elonian and Canthan immigrants, their distant homelands now unreachable, thanks to the rise of the Elder Dragons.
The southernmost of the two sectors were given over to an assemblage of inns, alehouses, general services for travelers and merchants, and the carnival. The last was a collection of ornate rides and vendors scattered through the area, funded by a powerful minister in theKrytan bureaucracy. It gave the area a surprisingly festive appearance and a false feeling that everything was safe and secure in the last human kingdom.
Riona and Dougal wound their way among the hawkers, merchants, and revelers. Confetti drifted down from the sky, and in the distance the deep brass tones of a clockwork band drifted over the proceedings.
Riona stopped at a shadow show, and Dougal stopped with her. The shadow show was an opaque white sheet set up at the base of one of the High Road’s supports, lit from behind. About a dozen townspeople and a similar number of children gathered in the shade. Silhouetted puppets danced across the screen.
“Riona, I …” Dougal started to say.
“Hush,” said Riona, her eyes locked on the screen.
The shadow show told the tale of the kingdoms of Tyria. First was Ascalon, defended by its Great Northern Wall. The charr attacked the wall, their heavy-shouldered feline troops striding across the screen from the left. Human soldiers appeared on the wall, led by their heroic king, and drove them back in a cascade of arrows. The charr returned with great cauldrons, and out of the cauldrons sprung huge crystalline missiles that struck the walls and breached them. This was the Searing, when the charr broke through the wall and overran Ascalon.
The screen darkened and brightened again. Another city, this one with more ornate, delicate structures, twisted towers and great arches. This was Arah, the greatest city of Orr. Again the charr, with their mystic cauldrons, arrived from the left, and a man in robesappeared in the tallest tower and summoned a great spell. The screen flashed and the charr were blown back, but the city itself was shattered. A wavy line representing the ocean rose up, and the pieces of the city settled
Dougal’s mind was spinning now. “ ‘Her’?” he managed.
Logan walked to the doorway. “Ma’am?” he said.
A slim woman in chain armor entered the room, and for a half-second Dougal’s heart stopped. She had tightly wound auburn curls that stopped just short of her shoulders, and her icy blue eyes had the cold look of a military professional.
“Riona,” said Dougal softly.
“Riona Grady of the Vigil,” she said, holding up a document sealed with purple wax to the captain. “Here to take charge and responsibility for the prisoner on behalf of my order.”
Dougal held up his bare wrists to Groban. “If it’s all the same to you, Lieutenant,” he said, “I think it’d be safer for me if you put the manacles back on and closed the cell door on your way out.”
Riona did not say more than three words as Dougal regained his few confiscated belongings and followed her out of the jail.
The city of Divinity’s Reach was laid out like a great six-spoked wheel, with each spoke being a great high road that arched from the outer walls of white stone to the uppermost reaches of the city. The upper city, with its palace and senate and domed gardens, was at the hub, and the lower reaches between the arched high roads were where most people lived. Over the years, the divided sectors took on a regional flavor. The original Krytans predominated in one sector of the city, while the descendants of the Ascalonians, their homelands blasted by the charr centuries earlier, gathered in another. Other spaces between the bridges were dominated by Elonian and Canthan immigrants, their distant homelands now unreachable, thanks to the rise of the Elder Dragons.
The southernmost of the two sectors were given over to an assemblage of inns, alehouses, general services for travelers and merchants, and the carnival. The last was a collection of ornate rides and vendors scattered through the area, funded by a powerful minister in theKrytan bureaucracy. It gave the area a surprisingly festive appearance and a false feeling that everything was safe and secure in the last human kingdom.
Riona and Dougal wound their way among the hawkers, merchants, and revelers. Confetti drifted down from the sky, and in the distance the deep brass tones of a clockwork band drifted over the proceedings.
Riona stopped at a shadow show, and Dougal stopped with her. The shadow show was an opaque white sheet set up at the base of one of the High Road’s supports, lit from behind. About a dozen townspeople and a similar number of children gathered in the shade. Silhouetted puppets danced across the screen.
“Riona, I …” Dougal started to say.
“Hush,” said Riona, her eyes locked on the screen.
The shadow show told the tale of the kingdoms of Tyria. First was Ascalon, defended by its Great Northern Wall. The charr attacked the wall, their heavy-shouldered feline troops striding across the screen from the left. Human soldiers appeared on the wall, led by their heroic king, and drove them back in a cascade of arrows. The charr returned with great cauldrons, and out of the cauldrons sprung huge crystalline missiles that struck the walls and breached them. This was the Searing, when the charr broke through the wall and overran Ascalon.
The screen darkened and brightened again. Another city, this one with more ornate, delicate structures, twisted towers and great arches. This was Arah, the greatest city of Orr. Again the charr, with their mystic cauldrons, arrived from the left, and a man in robesappeared in the tallest tower and summoned a great spell. The screen flashed and the charr were blown back, but the city itself was shattered. A wavy line representing the ocean rose up, and the pieces of the city settled
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