Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon by Jeff Grubb, Matt Forbeck Page B
Authors: Jeff Grubb, Matt Forbeck
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Ascalon City. I will find your Claw of the Khan-Ur. Provided, of course, you are willing to pay for my services.”
“Pay?” said Almorra, suddenly brought up short, as if the idea that payment might be required had only now crossed her mind. “Of course. You can keep everything else you find, I suppose, and split it as you see fit with your companions. And our resources are not slender by any means. What do you need?”
“Well, first off,” said Dougal, managing a tired, knowing smile, “I’ll need a new sword.”
When we went to Ascalon City before”—Dougal jabbed a finger at the map of Tyria—“we crossed the Shiverpeaks up through the Snowden route. The Lionguard have established a string of havens up there to protect the trade.”
He looked up at the two women. Killeen was soaking everything up with a focused, stern expression. Riona still had the self-satisfied smile that she wore ever since Dougal told them he had agreed to go with them to Ascalon City. As they discussed the journey, servants brought in a light lunch. Ewers of springwater were emptied, the plates of cheese, dried meats, and bread reduced to crumbs. There would be time for a real meal later, perhaps.
General Almorra, seated across from the three, said nothing but nodded.
“Then we hung north of the ruins of the Great Northern Wall and came down to the east of Ascalon City itself, looping back westward to its main gate. There were too many charr encampments otherwise,” Dougal finished.
“I always thought that the northern flank was the weakest,” said the general.
“Problem,” said Riona. “Most of your previous route is underneath the Dragonbrand now. We’ll probably see an increase in patrols along the edges of the brand now. We’ll have to move carefully.”
“No,” said the general, “we don’t have the time for a long journey. The legions’ truce faction will not wait forever. Neither will the human queen.”
“I am open to suggestions,” said Dougal.
“Asura gate,” said Almorra.
Dougal winced at the idea, but said, “There’s no asura gate to Ascalon City.”
Riona said, “There’s one in Ebonhawke, but we would have to go back to Divinity’s Reach to get use. There is no direct link between Lion’s Arch and the fortress city.”
“You’ll be going through Ebonhawke,” Almorra pointed out. “It is the closest available gate.”
Dougal scowled at the map. “Possible,” he said. “When we first left Ebonhawke”—he shot a glance at Riona—“we cut along to the south, so I know the area around Ebonhawke. But once we get closer to Ascalon, I’d be less sure.
“And while we can get to Ebonhawke,” he continued, “once there, we’re stuck. Even if we could sneak past the Iron Legion’s siege of the city, we’d still have to hike scores of miles across charr-infested lands—and through the Dragonbrand, to boot—before we even reach Ascalon City.”
“I thought of that,” replied the general. “We have a contact in Ebonhawke as well who will get you out of the city. And as for a guide across the lands of thelegions, I have already addressed that particular challenge as well.”
Something heavy knocked on the door, and Dougal—who felt it reverberate through his body—jumped at the sound of it. Soulkeeper smiled.
“The answer to those concerns has arrived,” the charr general said. Then she called out through the door: “Enter!”
The door swung inward on well-oiled hinges and revealed a powerful and lithe female charr standing at the threshold, younger than the general but no less impressive. She towered over Dougal, and the tips of her short horns brushed against the door’s lintel as she entered. Her black lips were drawn back over her full set of vicious, gleaming white teeth and fangs, as if in a perpetual snarl. Her heavy yellow eyes scanned the room, assessing everything and everyone in it as a threat and then dismissing them as beneath her notice.
Where exposed,
“Pay?” said Almorra, suddenly brought up short, as if the idea that payment might be required had only now crossed her mind. “Of course. You can keep everything else you find, I suppose, and split it as you see fit with your companions. And our resources are not slender by any means. What do you need?”
“Well, first off,” said Dougal, managing a tired, knowing smile, “I’ll need a new sword.”
When we went to Ascalon City before”—Dougal jabbed a finger at the map of Tyria—“we crossed the Shiverpeaks up through the Snowden route. The Lionguard have established a string of havens up there to protect the trade.”
He looked up at the two women. Killeen was soaking everything up with a focused, stern expression. Riona still had the self-satisfied smile that she wore ever since Dougal told them he had agreed to go with them to Ascalon City. As they discussed the journey, servants brought in a light lunch. Ewers of springwater were emptied, the plates of cheese, dried meats, and bread reduced to crumbs. There would be time for a real meal later, perhaps.
General Almorra, seated across from the three, said nothing but nodded.
“Then we hung north of the ruins of the Great Northern Wall and came down to the east of Ascalon City itself, looping back westward to its main gate. There were too many charr encampments otherwise,” Dougal finished.
“I always thought that the northern flank was the weakest,” said the general.
“Problem,” said Riona. “Most of your previous route is underneath the Dragonbrand now. We’ll probably see an increase in patrols along the edges of the brand now. We’ll have to move carefully.”
“No,” said the general, “we don’t have the time for a long journey. The legions’ truce faction will not wait forever. Neither will the human queen.”
“I am open to suggestions,” said Dougal.
“Asura gate,” said Almorra.
Dougal winced at the idea, but said, “There’s no asura gate to Ascalon City.”
Riona said, “There’s one in Ebonhawke, but we would have to go back to Divinity’s Reach to get use. There is no direct link between Lion’s Arch and the fortress city.”
“You’ll be going through Ebonhawke,” Almorra pointed out. “It is the closest available gate.”
Dougal scowled at the map. “Possible,” he said. “When we first left Ebonhawke”—he shot a glance at Riona—“we cut along to the south, so I know the area around Ebonhawke. But once we get closer to Ascalon, I’d be less sure.
“And while we can get to Ebonhawke,” he continued, “once there, we’re stuck. Even if we could sneak past the Iron Legion’s siege of the city, we’d still have to hike scores of miles across charr-infested lands—and through the Dragonbrand, to boot—before we even reach Ascalon City.”
“I thought of that,” replied the general. “We have a contact in Ebonhawke as well who will get you out of the city. And as for a guide across the lands of thelegions, I have already addressed that particular challenge as well.”
Something heavy knocked on the door, and Dougal—who felt it reverberate through his body—jumped at the sound of it. Soulkeeper smiled.
“The answer to those concerns has arrived,” the charr general said. Then she called out through the door: “Enter!”
The door swung inward on well-oiled hinges and revealed a powerful and lithe female charr standing at the threshold, younger than the general but no less impressive. She towered over Dougal, and the tips of her short horns brushed against the door’s lintel as she entered. Her black lips were drawn back over her full set of vicious, gleaming white teeth and fangs, as if in a perpetual snarl. Her heavy yellow eyes scanned the room, assessing everything and everyone in it as a threat and then dismissing them as beneath her notice.
Where exposed,
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