Read Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon Online
Authors: Matt Forbeck,Jeff Grubb
“What is it?” said Riona.
“It’s warm,” said Kranxx with a laugh, and Dougal realized that in their furtive travel they had not had a fire or a warm meal since Ebonhawke.
“Feeding your pets, kitling?” said a rough, base voice, and Dougal looked up to see a broad-shouldered charr lurching toward them. Dougal would have guessed he was an older charr, as his muzzle was fuzzed with gray and his horns were dull and worn. He was in battered, archaic armor, and Dougal noted that his left hand was mangled, missing a few fingers.
Despite his appearance, Ember pounded her chest in a salute. “Ember Doomforge, Ash Legion.”
The older charr returned her salute, though stiffly. “Fellblow the Savage, Iron Legion, before I mustered out. I notched my sword on enough of these mice over the years. Why are these ones still alive?”
Ember shrugged. “I don’t question my superiors. I merely carry out their orders. These vermin go to Black Citadel. Imperator business. I think they’re spies.”
“Huh,” said Fellblow. “You need them both alive?” Dougal’s heart dropped into his boots.
“For the moment,” said Ember, and forced a laugh. The Iron Legion charr laughed as well, and moved on. Dougal suddenly realized that he had been holding his breath.
Ember pointed to the west. She said quietly, “This road will eventually take us to the Black Citadel. Instead we’ll cut north when no one else is on the road. The Loreclaws are north of us, and beyond them the Ascalon Basin. Beyond that is the city.”
Gullik and Kranxx nodded. Dougal looked at Riona, and her eyes were alive with a terrible fury.
A half-mile west of the crossroads, the land turned rockier, and now there were fewer ranches and almost no road traffic. Ember led them off the road and up into the hills.
The land was much as it must have been before the charr invaded, perhaps as it was before the humans arrived. Great boulders and faces of gray granite framed the valleys, worn by water and the insidious roots of slender young trees. The wind kicked up from the north, bearing with it a cool breeze.
“It should be easier for a while,” said Ember, “at least until we reach the basin itself.”
“Then you should let us out of these,” said Riona, pulling at the neck shackle. It was leaving a red welt on her flesh.
“Not yet.” Ember looked at the humans. “I only said ‘easier.’ These lands are not without peril. There are bandits in these hills, some human, some charr, some other races. And there are patrols here. There is less of a chance that some group will come upon us, but that chance exists.”
“What she is saying,” put in Kranxx, “is that the legions rule this land like the human queen does hers. They rule the cities and control the roads, but in the
wild lands between the villages and the camps, a traveler is on his own.”
Ember ignored the asura and looked at Dougal. “If there is a problem, free her first.” She pointed at Riona. Dougal nodded.
They walked through most of the day without major incident. Once they came upon a small family of devourers, huge scorpions with two poisonous tails, feasting on the corpse of a deer. The devourers hissed and arched their double tails in warning, and Ember gave them a clear berth.
They finished off the last of the food that Ember had purchased, and pressed on, looking for a suitable place for the evening. That was when they heard shouts ahead, the clash of metal, gunfire, and explosions.
Ember and Gullik looked at each other, then carefully made their way up the rocky hillside, the norn dragging Riona and Dougal with him. Kranxx kept an eye on their rear flank.
The charr and the norn crawled the last few feet to the crest of the hill, and the humans followed. Topping the rise, Dougal was surprised by what he saw.
Charr fighting charr.
There was a bowl-shaped valley beneath them, dominated by a great campfire and lined with about a half-dozen tents. The valley had a prominent entrance, and through that cleft a patrol of Blood Legion warriors were pressing their way into a group of charr in red-golden armor. The Blood Legion warriors were led by a great black-furred charr, armed with a fiery sword, who shouted orders as the turmoil
milled around them. The red-golden defenders were being pushed back, but some of them were armed with rifles that shot fire, playing them over the attackers like water from a hose. Near the campfire a charr in ornate robes was shouting what Dougal could only think of as an incantation.
“Flame Legion,” snarled Ember, her eyes alight and her lips pulled back from her teeth. To Gullik she said, “You stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Riona barked, “No!” but Ember had already risen and was half leaping, half tumbling down the far side of the hill.
Dougal cursed as well. He could think of no advantage in going into battle with the charr. In her dark armor Ember might be identified as a friend of the Blood Legion, but any human in their midst was a target.
Ember was down among the tents now, bearing down on the shaman by the fire, her heavy blade drawn. Already the charr shaman’s voice was reaching a crescendo, and something large was stirring from among the timbers of the flame. As Dougal watched, a wicker-shod arm wrapped in flame issued from the heart of the great campfire.
Gullik cursed, and Dougal saw that the norn was trying to physically restrain himself from charging into the battle. He looked at the emerging creature, then back at the humans, then to the camp again like a dog desperate for a treat.
“An effigy,” he said at last. “The Flame Legion has summoned a flame effigy. I’ve heard of them, but I’ve
never seen one. Never fought one.”
“Go,” snapped Kranxx. “I’ll keep watch up here. Just don’t get killed.”
Without further encouragement, Gullik dropped his end of the chain, pulled his battle-axe, and, with a cry that resounded through the bowl of the valley, threw himself down the steep inner hillside. Dougal thought that, at the norn’s shout, every charr’s head in the battle turned toward them, before resuming their internecine struggle.
There was gunfire, and shots passed over their heads from Blood legionnaires unsure if they were possible allies or reinforcements for the Flame Legion. Dougal, Riona, and Kranxx flattened themselves on the hilltop.
“Spring the lock,” said Riona, pointing to her neck.
Dougal looked down at the battlefield. Ember had reached the Flame Legion shaman and in a single blow cut him down. He crumpled like a set of empty ropes, but his enchantment had succeeded. Another heavy arm reached out of the flame, and now rising from the heart of the campfire was a giant’s head wrapped in fire—a mockery of a charr warrior’s head. Gullik was making for it, fearful someone would reach it first and deny him his fair slaughter of the creature.
“Ember said if something happens, free me,” said Riona sharply. “This qualifies. Do it.”
Dougal pulled the pouch with his lock picks from his pocket, and as he did he noticed there was someone behind him.
The Flame Legion soldier had appeared at the base
of their hill, away from the battle. He wore a cumbersome backpack and held a strange rifle attached to the backpack by a flexible pipe. Whether the charr was a deserter or a picket or a patrol, he spotted them now.
“Hurry,” said Kranxx, “I’ll keep him busy.” The asura raced down the hill, brandishing his useless lightning wand.
The Flame charr lifted his rifle and a jet of fire spat from its barrel, a stream of liquid flame that lanced toward the asura. The asura yelped and threw himself out of the way, dancing into a thicket of brush.
Dougal bent his head and concentrated on foiling the lock. It was a simple matter, the lock known to him and sprung before, and it pulled away from Riona easily.
The Flame charr had followed Kranxx and now played his flame rifle through the thicket, igniting the brush. As a result, he did not see Riona bearing down on him until the last moment.
She slammed into him hard, and the pair tumbled together down the hillside. She pulled away from him as the tube connecting the rifle and the backpack broke and fire in a thick trail streamed behind the legionnaire. The air took on a smoky tang from the burning brush, and Dougal’s eyes watered. At the bottom of the hill, the charr struggled loose from his backpack, which apparently carried the rifle’s fuel, his fur smoking. Before him, slightly uphill, Riona faced him. She
was armed with a rock she had picked up.
For a moment the two locked eyes, then the charr did something Dougal did not expect. He bolted. Turned and ran from a stone-wielding human. Riona let out a cry and chased after him.
Dougal shouted as well and started down the hill, gathering up the lengths of chain to use as a weapon. Halfway down, he heard some urgent coughing, and Kranxx stumbled out of the scalded brush. His bare arms were blistered, and his wide eyes rheumy from the smoke.
“You’re alive,” said Dougal, and realized how happy he was.
“Only for the moment,” said the asura. “Get me to my pack.”
Dougal looked at where Riona had disappeared, then back up the hill to where the packs still lay. He half walked, half carried the asura back up the hill, where he dug through his pack filled with waxed-paper wrappings, finally producing a reddish philter. He drank it down without further comment, and then spent a long moment spewing up black powder. The flesh on his bare limbs crusted and fell away, revealing new flesh, a lighter shade of gray, beneath.
Dougal looked down into the valley. The Flame Legion troops were breaking, and the Blood legionnaires were upon them, cutting them down in ones and twos. More importantly, Ember and Gullik had engaged the effigy, the charr dancing forward and lancing the creature with the tip of her sword, enraging it, while the norn hacked at its burning legs with the zeal
of a crazed lumberjack. As Dougal watched, the huge creature swayed, then fell backward in a flurry of burning wicker and sparks.
Dougal turned back toward where Riona had disappeared, but Kranxx grabbed the chain. “No,” said the asura. “She’ll be back. I hope.”
Dougal had to nod. Already the battle had abated to the point that members of the Blood Legion were pointing up at them on the hillside, and about a half-dozen members of the victorious legion were hustling up to collect them. Dougal had time to stow his picks and stand there docilely while Kranxx, conspicuously holding the other end of the chain, tried to look both in charge and nonthreatening.
The charr patrol gathered up their gear and pushed Dougal down the slope to the rest of the troops ahead of them. Ember was already arguing with some officer when they arrived.
“These are my prisoners,” said Ember. “I demand you release them to me at once.”
“We appreciate your help, Doomforge,” replied the officer, another female charr with tawny fur, “but I cannot allow you to pass without knowing your business.”
“I am on the business of Malice Swordshadow, the Ash Legion imperator,” said Ember, snarling. “I cannot and will not tell you the nature of my mission.”
“Nor should you,” came a deep, resonate voice from the perimeter of the discussion. “I will be dining with Swordshadow at the end of the week, and I shall take the opportunity to ask the imperator about it.”
The soldiers parted to reveal the commanding charr, the one with coal-black fur and hard, angry eyes. His fiery blade was now sheathed. Dougal could tell by his ease and swagger that he was the top cat in this army.
What surprised Dougal most of all was the way that Ember immediately stiffened with the arrival of the newcomer, coming fully to attention and executing a perfect salute. She was more intimidated by this charr commander than she was by even Almorra Soulkeeper.
“Ember Doomforge, Ash Legion, Detached, sir!” she barked.
“At ease, soldier,” said the dark-furred charr. Ember did not relax a single hair. “These are yours?”
“Yes, sir!” said Ember. “I am taking these prisoners in for questioning. They were found near the Dragonbrand!”
The dark-furred charr grunted. “You said ‘prisoners.’ Plural. I think you’re missing one or more of them.”
Ember wheeled and for the first time realized that Riona wasn’t there. A look of shock and fear spread across her face. “Where
is
she?” she hissed at Kranxx.
The asura stammered for a moment, then managed, “We were assaulted by a Flame rifleman. We drove him away, but in the confusion the female human escaped. I express my deepest apology and will offer a refund.”
“Just wonderful,” muttered the dark-furred commander. Louder, he shouted, “We have a mouse loose! I want it caught—now! Get trackers on it, starting up
on the hill.”
“Sir?” said Ember, and Dougal could almost sense the fear on her. “I need the … prisoner … alive and unharmed.”
The commander grunted again and bellowed, “I want the mouse alive and unharmed! Any of you bring her back in pieces, and I will have your guts for garters! Am I clear?”
There was a sharp expression of agreement, and the milling charr broke into teams. Some gathered the deceased Blood Legion charr by the campfire for burning. Others laid out the dead Flame legionnaires for the crows and vultures. Meanwhile, a large contingent headed up the hill.
“You will accompany us,” said the commander. “We will talk later.”
“Sir, yes, sir!” said Ember, who saluted again as the commander turned and marched over to where other charr were emptying the contents of the Flame Legion tents.
Ember did not relax as much as fall in on herself. A picket of other Blood Legion formed up around them. Gullik took the chain from Kranxx, and Ember made a show of checking Dougal’s neck manacle.
“What happened?” said the charr, fussing with the still-locked cuff.
“We were ambushed, like Kranxx said,” whispered Dougal. “The rifleman would have fried him, but I freed Riona and she tackled him. The rifleman lit out and Riona chased after him.”
“Idiot,” said Ember, and Dougal was unsure if she
was talking about Kranxx, Dougal, Riona, or herself. Then she added, “Keep your mouth shut and pray to your foolish gods.”
“What’s wrong?” Dougal managed.
“I may have taken you from the skillet into the flames,” said Ember. “A regular charr commander I could bluster my way past, but this—”