From Fireheart Rise with Love
Reynauld Gaspar is an engineer with his own shop. One day, the love of his life, charr necromancer Sertoria Poisonclaw, comes to him with an offer to join her out in the field. The charr Legions caught wind of some Flame Legion activity, wanting Sertoria to investigate. Of course, she just had to have her man with her, for no other reason than because she knows how long it's been since Reynauld has had a good old-fashioned fight.
It was brown. Like mud. Almost milky, too.
I dipped my finger into that chestnut puddle, finding it cool to the touch.
“Well, there’s the problem right there,” I mumbled to the air around me. The oil should have been at least room temperature. Instead, it was as if someone had dropped some ice into it. Why someone would do such a thing, I had no idea. Still though, if there was water in the oil…
I immediately got to work and set a bucket underneath the little gyro as I unscrewed a hatch and allowed the possibly contaminated fuel to empty. It didn’t take long for the little once-floating orb to become freed of all its combustible liquid.
“Better safe than sorry,” I told the motionless device. “Don’t want you giving out on your owner during some crucial work.” Yeah, I continued in thought, the poor thing might accidentally slice off the poor sod’s finger. The gyro’s owner came to my shop earlier in the day mentioning his machine had been acting oddly while doing kitchen duty. Cutting things it wasn’t told, moving pots and pans it didn’t need to, so on and such.
I wasn’t a one of those scrappers who build these gyros, but I did know enough about how they worked to get by. Thanks in no small part to my training back in Lion’s Arch, I could repair most anything, really. It was what convinced me to set up a nice little repair shop in Divinity’s Reach. It was a humble life, taking care of people’s broken and busted stuff and fixing it up like new again. After all, why toss something out if there’s a chance it can work better than before.
A long bang interrupted me mid-thought. A heavy sound reaching from the front room. A customer! I scrambled over my work desk and pushed my way through the curtain dividing the front and back rooms to be greeted by a tall, wide charr. Silver fur steaked with dark stripes could be seen lining her face and what little of her arms and legs could be seen. Garbed in deep blacks and purples, her clothes were the embodiment of her legion, Ash, all secrecy and sneakery. Granted, wearing such an outfit during the middle of a bright day certainly wouldn’t do much for a stealth operation, but then again what did I know.
The big feline woman held a large cloth sack at her side, the clinking of metal bumping against one another sounding out as she took a step toward me masking the click clack of her claws on the scuffed-up floor.
“Sertoria,” I exclaimed, leaning down and resting an arm on the shop counter, “how’d the day find you?”
“Day’s not over,” she responded. “Still need to go out to Fireheart Rise later.”
“Flame Legion causing issues again?”
Shaking her head in exasperation, she mumbled, “When are they not?”
She upturned the sack onto the counter, spreading out some odds and ends of various devices she’d collected during her day’s travels, along with some broken pistols and half of an elixir gun. Immediately, my hands grasped at the pistols, turning them over this way and that to inspect the damages, all the while Sertoria was standing there watching me with a raised brow.
“So, I take it you can get some use out of these?”
“Absolutely, my dear,” I said with a nod. I pulled at my toolbelt, produced a screwdriver from one of the many pockets, and began my work disassembling the busted firearms.
As the first was being taken apart, I made a short grunt. “Not gonna get any use from this one, though,” I explained without glancing back up at her. “Much too beat up. Gonna need a new barrel.” For emphasis, I showed her how the barrel looked as if it had been left in a firepit, leading to most of it being warped by melting.
She took a long look before making her own grunting noise. “Sorry. I don’t have much of an eye for guns.”
I waved off her self-deprecation, reassuring her by saying, “Oh, it’s no problem. Out of all of these, I can probably cobble together a working piece or two for resale. Won’t make the same profit as a brand-new model, but for some random junk you found out in the field, I’d say it’ll do nicely.”
The large charr lady crossed her arms and cocked her head. “This is why I keep telling you to come venture with me some time. You’d be able to spot some good resources for the shop that would actually be useful for a change.”
“Hey now, I never said this stuff isn’t useful.” I grabbed a handful of the other bits and pieces she’d brought home with her. “These screws, bolts, and other such can definitely help with repairs. And the elixir gun can be scrapped for parts.”
“I’m serious, Reynauld, you really should come with me. Get yourself out of the shop for a little while.” She clicked her tongue and wiggled a clawed finger my way. “You could use the sun, too. You’re looking a bit pale.”
“Am not,” I replied instantly, without even thinking. However, I did glance at my hands and arms, noticing that perhaps Sertoria had a point; my arms and hands did seem a tad sallow. She must have spied me studying my arms, as she clicked her tongue again.
“See? You’re always cooped up in here. It’s not healthy.”
“…maybe I could use a day out,” I begrudgingly admitted. “It has been a while, I suppose.”
“I’ll say. Last time I saw you get your hands dirty was Claw Island.”
Claw Island. The memories all swam to the forefront of my mind at the mention of that name. A fortress overtaken by the undead horde of the Elder Dragon Zhaitan. It was an enemy so numerous and formidable, it forced the three orders of Tyria to come together as one in order just to fight back. It felt like nothing short of a miracle when it ended in Zhaitan’s champion, Blightghast (yes, seriously) being struck down and the island reclaimed.
After helping take back the fort, I humbly stepped down from the Priory. From what I hear, they and the other two orders have decided to continue their cooperation and are planning an assault on the Elder Dragon of Death himself. I prayed to the Six for their success, if only so no more innocents would have to suffer the fate of turning into one of those risen monsters.
“Hmm. Maybe I’ll join you in bashing some Flame Legion heads.” Saying this, I reached for a pack by my feet, pulling out my trusty coalforge revolver. I then spun the revolver on my finger. An old trick, but still fun to pull off, even if Sertoria’s reaction was more bored than I’d have liked.
“You sure you wanna help with that?” Her tone shifted as she teased, “You might be a tad too rusty to handle some overgrown kittens like them.” Her hand waved before me, dismissively. “Mayhaps you’d be better off taking potshots at some bugs.” I could see her toothy grin shine forth.
“Well, I just figured I should offer my assistance,” I played right back. “After all, wouldn’t want the big bad necromancer to get too close to those blades and claws. Who knows what such frightening things could do to a frail maiden such as yourself.”
Gods, it was hard to say that without breaking. Sertoria, frail? Not even a knife to her throat could make that woman’s boots tremble. Not that she wore boots. But if she did, they’d never shake.
An intoxicating chuckle rumbled through her chest. “Oh, but of course. I’m nothing but a tender flower who needs her gun-toting knight to keep her safe from harm.” The big charr woman stepped closer to my workbench and leaned in on one arm, bringing her head level with my own. I could see those pale violet orbs of hers twinkle with untold promises.
“Well, and every knight has to be rewarded for doing a good job,” I said, sinking deeper into this silly game of ours.
An eyebrow cocked as Sertoria replied, “Now, now, a deed done well is its own reward, is it not?”
I choked down a laugh before saying, “Come now, my dear, this isn’t the olden days anymore. A man must be compensated for his labor.”
She just shook her head in mock disbelief and swiveled around, motioning for the door. “I’ll be waiting outside” she said, losing the teasing tone, but not the smirk. “Try not to take too long, or I might just go on without you.”
“Bah. You came all this way to invite me out. What kind of jerk would I be if I said no?”
“One who would have been sleeping alone tonight.” With that final line, I watched as my lovely charr companion left the way she came. Only this time, I got to spy her swaying her hips for me, that long fluffy tail lazily moving from side to side in time with each step.
Hm, I mused to myself, good thing I said yes.
It took no time at all to get changed and grab my veritable arsenal. I took a secondary pistol—just in case, a rifle, my handmade flamethrower, a stock of grenades, a few elixirs; everything I could need was placed into a backpack. It didn’t make any sense so much could fit into a bag barely bigger than my torso, and yet when I stuck my arms through the loops, the pack was always as light as a feather. Doubtless some kind of magic was involved in their creation. With my equipment ready, I grabbed the holster for my revolver and headed outside.
As I left the confides of the shop, I was immediately stung by the too-bright light of the sun, blinded momentarily. When I winced from the pain, I could hear a deep rumble from my right; Sertoria laughing.
“I knew you’d been trapped inside too long. Look at you, like a newborn cub.” A sharp blow hit my shoulder as she laughed again.
Soon enough, the sunshine’s oppressive needles disappeared, allowing me to regain sight. Serotria looked even more ridiculous in her dark outfit out here in the light. Of course, I didn’t say that out loud. I wasn’t that much of an idiot. I shrugged off her paw and took a step forward.
“So, how we doing this? We gonna take the portal to Lion’s Arch, or would you prefer the scenic route?”
“Neither.” Without another word, she produced a small stone from a hidden pocket, wrapped the other hand around me, and then threw the stone to the ground, shattering it to bits.
Once more, painful light stabbed at my eyes as the pair of us were engulfed in a swirl of colors. Even through tightly closed eyes, I could still see the pigments and hues circling us like a dance. I could feel us being moved by an unseen force and an overwhelming sense of nausea hit me, threatening to make me let go of my breakfast. However, just as soon as I could feel the contents of my stomach about to head to my throat, the movement ceased and we were standing on a cliffside, far removed from the city block we were just stood at.
From the cliff, I could see a large group of charr down below. They were sparring and running drills of some kind, and judging by their outfits, none were from the Flame Legion.
“This is a training outpost.” Sertoria must have noticed my staring. “It was where I was taught the beginnings of magic.”
“Always kinda figured the charr didn’t care for magic all that much.”
“Most don’t,” she admitted. “But since some of us have an aptitude for it, the higher ups decided it would be best not to squander this gift.”
“Fair enough, I suppose. Magic is probably a big help with the Legions.”
“Indeed.” She then pointed off in the distance. “See that?” She had motioned to a wasteland of scorched earth. What used to be trees were now nothing more than blackened husks jutting out of the ground like needles.
“Flame Legion did that?”
She shook her head slowly, then explained, “It’s worse than their normal activity. We’ve caught wind that their imperator, Gaheron Baelfire, is planning something big. We aren’t sure what exactly, but we do know some of his most zealous supporters have been making more bold attempts at grabbing territory. That place was once a forest before they laid waste to it.”
“Probably some stupid idea to make it unusable for their enemies, I bet.”
“And you’d win that bet,” came her immediate reply. “Our goal here is to get to the remains of the forest and see what they’re up to.”
“Oh, so we’re just scouting,” I said, a little defeated.
She clicked her tongue at that. “Now, why would I ask you to come along just for a simple scouting job? I can do those practically in my sleep.”
Pulling forth my revolver, I began to load it up as a smile grew on my face. “So, we still bashing some heads?”
Sertoria returned my smile. “Of course,” she responded, taking out the axe she always kept at her side. “Never said how we had to get our info.”