Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon by Jeff Grubb, Matt Forbeck

ghosts.”
    “Necromancer,” reminded the sylvari, smiling, “that argument is not going to have a lot of traction.”
    “You don’t stand a chance without me,” said Dougal, standing up and looking down on her smiling green face.
    “You should lead us, then,” said Killeen. She shook her head at some private joke, then reached up and touched his forehead. “You humans. You think too much up here.” She moved her hand down, restingon his chest, her fingers grazing the locket that hung around his neck. “You should be thinking from here as well.”
    Dougal’s face darkened. Blushing, he turned away from her. He took a deep breath and said, “Killeen …”
    The door opened and Riona entered. Her face was flushed as well, though in her case from barely contained anger. Dougal could imagine how unpleasant it must be to be chewed out by a charr, especially a superior who is a charr.
    “She’d like to talk to you again,” she said. “Come with me.”
    “I think I’ll stay here,” said Killeen. “You two may need a moment.” Riona left the room without even seeming to have heard her.
    In the hallway, Riona turned to him, angry. “Dougal Keane. What happened to you?”
    “Riona, I really don’t want to …” Dougal started, still shaken from Killeen’s words.
    But Riona would not be denied. “You used to take chances. You used to always talk about that big strike, that ultimate prize, that great treasure. The chance to prove to the world that you could beat it.”
    “I took that big chance. And in taking that chance we betrayed you,” said Dougal.
    “But you lost it,” said Riona, ignoring him. “Whatever happened in Ascalon City. You lost more than the rest of our platoon. You lost your will. You lost your bravery. You started running and haven’t stopped.”
    “Are you done ?” said Dougal, fixing her with a glare as sharp and angry as her own.
    Riona’s mouth became a thin line. “Yes. I think we are.”
    “Fine,” Dougal said. “Now bring me to your general.”
    A minute later, once Riona had left the chamber and closed the door behind her, Dougal said calmly, “Now, are
you
going to yell at me?”
    “No,” said General Soulkeeper, standing in front of the fire, staring into its depths as if looking for an answer. “Instead I want to tell you a story. I understand you left Ebonhawke five years ago, and you have not been back.”
    “I thought there was nothing for me there,” said Dougal.
    “I was part of the siege of Ebonhawke as well,” said Almorra. “We may have hunted each other, or stared at each other across the battlements. My warband and your patrol.”
    Dougal said nothing but nodded. Almorra looked up from the fire to Dougal, and her gaze drilled into the human.
    Her next words were heavy with emotion and memory. “I was there. Four years ago, when Kralkatorrik, the Crystal Dragon, awoke. I was in the Dragonbrand.”
    Dougal felt slightly ill. “I—I didn’t know anyone survived that.”
    Soulkeeper grunted. “I served as a legionnaire in the Blood Legion at the time. Our centurion was in charge of interdicting enemy supplies and was overseeing the scores of our finest warbands stationed there. I was on patrol with my own warband in eastern Ascalon whenthe Crystal Dragon stirred.
    “I felt it first rather than heard it. The creature’s coming warped everything around it, and the vibrations reached me through the air, not as a low thunder but a strange feeling that reached into my bones and made every bit of my fur stand on end.
    “Harthog Soulslasher, my second-in-command, saw it before the rest of us, coming over the edge of the mountains behind us, flying in from the north like an angry sun come to Tyria to scorch us all. Harthog was one of the bravest charr I’d ever known, but I saw his eyes bulge with terror as he raised his arm to point at the dragon.
    “The others turned to see what could terrify such a charr as Soulslasher, but I reached out and grabbed