Chapter 6

Vilrif began to walk back to his den and thoughts drifted idly through his mind, what am I going back to? A life of just surviving? Sure that’s what I’ve always wanted, at least since… He stopped himself, it was something he had got into the habit of not thinking about, not remembering. He took a moment to beat down rising feelings of ever-present frustration.

A life as a recluse has suited me for half of my life, but after my brief contact with those people. He couldn’t quite make sense of it. Maybe it’s just curiosity. Curiosity: a defining character flaw of mine. He thought, continuing to ponder his unsettled mind.

Still, something about living my life as usual doesn’t feel right, at least not this evening. He thought with a sense of melancholy and dissatisfaction.

Vilrif sighed, he had always been someone with a sense of total clarity on matters such as these since as long as he could remember, but now he found himself ambiguous about his actions for no good or clear reason.
He clenched his teeth as he found himself turning around to go towards the Dunes of Despair.

He climbed up a small rock formation that overlooked the small, insignificant outpost, seeing the people he’d left behind only a matter of minutes ago, Why are you doing this, Vilrif, this offers you no reward, everyone does something for a reason, save for mad men. Even so-called ‘heroes’ do good things so that they can be satisfied with themselves, gain fame or other rewards. So, what does this get you? He asked himself.

Fulfillment of curiosity. He decided, a measure of clarity returning to him.

Okay, now that I’ve completed the task of answering my self questioning I just need to approach them. Finalizing his thoughts.

Vilrif strode down the rock formation and into the town, removing his rangers mask which was just an old piece of leather covering his mouth and nose, in the traditional Ranger fashion.
He then started approaching them, trying to remember some manner of social skills as he walked. He’d lost his common skills for interacting with people from the years of spending less than an hour a day with any creature that could speak.
The group hadn’t noticed him, they were busy organizing various weapons, possessions and supplies.
He checked his facial expressions and body language, then made a mental note about his mannerisms, then lastly adopted a smile that was only half feigned.

“Hey, are you going to try to travel during night-time?” he said as he came up to the group, lessening his smile and expressing a mix of curiosity and concern. This is ridiculous! why are you wasting your time with these people? They’re incompetent and they’ll turn on you at a moments notice! A voice wrung out with such loudness in his mind that he thought he felt his ears hurt.

Tendra spun around and looked at Vilrif, not sure what to think of his sudden appearance and casual behavior.
“Is there a wraith behind me or something?” Vilrif asked wryly, his joke fell flat and failed to amuse anyone.

They all shared expressions that pleaded with each other, uncertain of something.
“Ah, it’s nothing” Tendra said  “It’s just we we’re really busy travel plans. You should probably hurry back to your shelter, as you know how cold the desert can get at night”
“Yes, I do.” Vilrif said, slipping back into a familiar, more solemn and irritated persona. He turned and walked away from the party. It was weird of me to suddenly be sociable, I should have expected a weird reaction in return. Still, their behavior didn’t entirely make sense. He thought, still unsettled by his curiosity. I wonder what their travel plans are exactly.

Chapter 5

Vilrif saw in clear sight his enemies; three enchanted, one wielding a hammer and the other two wielding a sword and shield.
He readied his bow, loaded two keen arrows onto it. He let loose the arrows at a sword and shield bearing Enchanted, who was charging the Elementalist of the party.
One arrow lagged slightly behind the other.
With a loud shrill sound from the metal armour, the first arrow hit its target in the shoulder.
The force of the arrow pushed his shoulder back, lining the second shot up perfectly to hit him directly in the forehead.
The entity of armour and weapons collapsed on to the ground with a dull, metallic sound.

The two remaining Enchanted; the sword bearing and hammer bearing Enchanted took immediate notice and charged Vilrif.

He easily launched a deadly shot that cracked the helmet of the sword wielding Enchanted down the centre and so more armour crashed to the ground.
Vilrif’s flank was exposed and the hammer wielder took the opportunity quickly. He raised his mighty hammer high, but just as it reached the apex of its height and was ready to come crashing down, a warrior from the party outflanked the Enchanted. His sword screeched straight through the Enchanted’s Breastplate and the Enchanted slunk backwards from the weight of the hammer before collapsing, its magical bonds dissolved.

Vilrif ignored the enemy being slain just a couple of feet behind him, he checked for additional enemies, there were none.
He relaxed, as did the party.
“Tendra” said the warior, with a tone of relief.
“always the first one to greet the enemy face to face, Kan”
She stumbled to her feet and Kan hurried over to help her, “are you okay? See you took a beating from that drake, I’m amazed you’re alive.”
“it was nothing, a stupid creature, not hard to outsmart or outrun” replied Tendra.

Vilrif, amused, interjected, “Are you sure that’s what happened? The dessert sun must of blotted the better part of your memory out, or alternatively your honesty.”

“Hmn, of course, you must have saved her somehow, but even then it begs many questions about how you survived still, even with the aid of a traveller.”

“I shot it, it’s dead, what else matters?” said Vilrif, clearly finding such questions tedious and irritating.
“Fair enough.” Replied Kan, “we owe you many thanks, is there something we can do to repay you for saving our comrade?”
“Other than take her off my hands? I very much doubt it.” Vilrif replied.
A little lost words, Kan continued, “Well, thanks again. We shall be on our way, do let us know if we might be able repay the favour if we meet again, goodbye.”
“Seeya” Vilrif replied, strolling off back into the desert.

“what an intense person.” Kan said, bemused.

Chapter 4

Vilrif and Tendra took their first steps out of the den. The sun was bright, the desert was quiet and the air was still. Vilrif stretched while the still sick Tendra took a moment to get used to the temperature, while shielding her eyes from the sun.

Vilrif took a moment to search the area with his eyes; seeing nothing but a pack of docile Sand Drakes far off. He explained, “Our path is clear, but be on your toes and stay right behind me, follow my footprints closely. If you know any protective spells, then be ready to cast them. The desert may seem peaceful enough now, but we could easily be ambushed by Scarabs.”

Tendra nodded and followed Vilrif as he set off towards two small mesas. All was quiet apart from some scavenger birds that were far away but still audible, as they traveled the sand in the blistering heat. Tendra was starting to breath heavily, but Vilrif took no notice.

They soon reached their first destination; a gap between the two mesas where there was cooling shadows from the huge, rock structures.

Vilrif stopped walking and leaned against a wall of rock, while grabbing from his supplies a flask of water, which he threw to Tendra. She wasted no time drinking from the flask, her face was covered in sweat and she was clearly struggling with the heat in her condition.

She finished drinking and wiped the sweat from her face with her hand, then offered the flask back to vilrif. Vilrif said, “hold on to it, your condition is getting worse.” Tendra protested, “I’m fine, let’s just keep moving.”

“Very well.” Vilrif replied. “The Dunes of Despair are not far from here, but from now on we need to be careful. There are patrols of the Enchanted; enemies I don’t wish to fight, for their bodies consist of floating armour and weaponery in vague, human form and do not make for an easy target.” He added.

With that warning in mind, Tendra got to her feet and they resumed their travels towards the Dunes of Despair – it was within sight now. Vilrif soon stopped, noticing 2 patrols of Enchanted near the outpost. “When I say move, we’re going to have to move quickly; to try and avoid those Enchanted.”

Tendra replied, “…okay, I’m ready” and got close by Vilrif’s side. But just then, as she finnished talking, Vilrif moved suddenly. Sweeping and knocking Tendra far back with his left arm, while drawing his sleek and elegant short sword, thrusted it down were Tendra had been stood. A Scarab came bursting out of the sand. The sword charged through the body cleanly and ended the Scarab’s life in an instant.

Vilrif removed the blade from the corpse and took a moment, blade at the ready; waiting for any more ambushes.

There was none. He looked back at Tendra, she was sitting in the sand, coughing up blood.

“You’re not a very good healer, are you?” Vilrif said. Tendra said nothing in reply, still coughing and trying to regain her composure. “I suppose it goes without saying that you should of healed yourself more thoroughly before we left? Well, I suppose if you can heal yourself well enough to reach the Dunes of Despair, then you might live to learn from it.” Vilrif added.

Just then, war cries suddenly rolled across the sand. Vilrif turned to see what was happening; it was a party of 5 that had just left the outpost; Two warriors – one with a terrifying maul and the other with a shinning long sword, two elementalists and a mesmer. They were attacking the patrol nearest to Vilrif and Tendra.

“It looks like some brave fighters have come to our aid” laughing under his breath, amused at the combat. “let’s help our heroic saviours.” He said, cheerfully.

Chapter 3

Dawn rose. The creatures and monsters of the desert were starting to rise. The three headed Hydras; fearsome and terrible monsters with their fire, The heavily armoured Drakes and the Scarabs that ambush the unsuspecting from beneath the sand.

The ranger, shifting a large, brown rock that covered the entrance; entered then with fresh water and other supplies. The injured woman, feverish and pale from sickness woke as he entered. The ranger handed her a cup of fresh water and the woman drank it readily, brushing her long, dark, black hair out of her face and with the rough voice of those who come close to death she said, “you shot me.”

The ranger did not reply. He laid down the supplies and starting sorting them, a long silence passed then she spoke again, “who are you?” Taking heavy breaths and clearly delirious from fever. The ranger walked over to her and started to inspect her wound and check her temperature and pulse. He replied, “from your armour, you’re clearly a monk; trained in healing, from some wealthy Canthan family no less. I trusted you would have awoken and healed yourself by now.”

But the monk was slipping in and out of consciousness. The ranger grabbed a flask of water and tipped some on her face, startled she said, “what are you doing?!” The ranger replied, “if you do not heal yourself, then you will die, but if that’s what you want then by all means go back to sleep; you’ll make some vulture quite happy.”

The monk slowly sat up, loosely holding one hand on her simple yet elegant metal staff; rife with engravings in various languages. With her other hand started to cast the healing prayers she knew. As weak as she was she had managed to quickly heal the worst of her injury and sickness. The monk asked again, “who are you?”

The ranger slowly took off his mask and replied, “I have little use for a name, but the Forgotten who I sometimes trade with and am on good terms with call me Vilrif. And by the way, never get in my line of sight or any other ranger’s line of sight for that matter, such idiocy nearly killed us both.”

Shocked and infuriated; the young Canthan monk replied, “What? You shoot me then call me an idiot?! you have the manners and mind of a Charr!”

“And you” the ranger replied, “have the all the survival instinct of a Canthan town dwelling child; never far from her parent’s side and well distanced from danger. Clearly you’re new to these parts, so tell me; just what are you doing here alone and what in Dwayna’s or Melandru’s or any of the other humbling god’s names were you thinking?”

The monk took a breath and softened her voice, “I did not choose to find myself alone in the middle of this hell, I was with” A pause took her voice, her face saddened and shocked; realising some reality said, “a party of people, oh no, we were attacked by three drakes; one came towards me and I just started to run and didn’t stop. Oh no, I abandoned them, they have to be alive still, they can’t be dead!”.

She got up and moved towards the opening, still not fully recovered, “Is the taste of death really so good?” asked Vilrif, in a soft, deep voice. He then sighed, got to his feet and spoke, “come, I’ll help you find your party, whatever their fates were, you’ve peaked my curiosity. Speaking of curiosity, what, may I ask is your name?”

Surprised at Vilrif’s offer the monk replied, “My name is Tendra”

Chapter 2

As evening approached, the ranger woke from his slumber and wasted no time getting up. He walked over to his supplies to drink some water and then soon noticed he had nearly ran out. He put on his torn and damaged jacket, made sure his boots were tight, donned his ranger’s mask, slung his trusty, elegant, dark-wood bow and quiver over his shoulder; took a sleek blade from a pile of his possessions and fitted it into his belt. He left his den – dragging the corpse of the dune lizard out and burying it under the sand a safe distance away as to not attract scavengers or predators.

The sky was turning orange, there was strong wind in the air, but no predators in sight. he then began to walk at a brisk pace, which turned into a jaunt, then soon a swift, maintained sprint; jumping over dunes, rocks and bones of fallen creatures with elegance. but before he could get far he noticed something through some air-born sand; a roar and thudding, getting closer and louder. He took swift cover behind a large rock that was as tall as him.

He looked out at the oncoming noise to see what it was. The figure soon became clear; it was unmistakable, the large and armoured body of a sand drake; a creature that moves surprisingly fast and has earth magic at its disposal.

The ranger soon noticed that something was not right; it was clearly after prey, but the prey was not him. He took a closer look and saw in its path, another human, running for her life. the keen ranger took his bow and made careful aim, slowed his breathing and focused until all he could hear was the creature’s large, heavy body pounding against the sand and all else went silent for a moment. He shot, the arrow flew past the human and struck the creature on its front, right leg dead center of the knee and the arrow head came jutting out the other side. The creature speeding across the desert, tumbled to the ground; unable to stand and riving in pain.

The woman was overjoyed and relived. She came to greet her savior, but the ranger was hit with sudden regret at not shooting a lethal shot. The creature was just taking in a deep breath; undoubtedly to cry for help and now this woman he had saved was standing right in his line of sight between him and the drake.

he knew it had to be silenced – there wasn’t a split second to spare. He didn’t hesitate; he drew another arrow and took aim. The young woman was shocked and stunned and just stood still. He let the arrow fly and the arrow shaft went clean through her shoulder, with so much force that it continued its flight, taking with it a stream of blood. The determined shot struck its intended target; the drake, right in the forehead and the arrow pierced its skull and ended its life. The girl; shocked and serverly injured, fell to the ground and passed out.

The keen ranger walked over to her and applied some basic bandages and healing salves, then hauled her up on to his shoulder and brought her back to his den – rare sanctuary for such a hostile place. He briefly checked her pulse and whether she was breathing, then set out to complete his original task of gathering water, leaving her there alone.

Chapter 1

It is dawn at Vulture Drifts. The sun is just starting to reach over the desert and Dune Lizards can be heard scattering  through the sand, eager to earn another day on Tyria by winning some less deserving creature as prey.

While the Hydras still sleep, the Dune Lizards would be safe, had there not been a less than usual inhabitant among the dunes: a Human, creeping up with keen and expert hunting skill, keeping his presence unknown; staying hidden from sight and sound.

He slowly raised his left arm in front of him and within his grip he held a superbly well crafted, dark-wood bow. With his right hand he placed an arrow onto it, resting on his supple hand that gripped the bow and drew it tight. Only staying taught for a second to perfect his aim, he let loose from it a swift and deadly shaft, aimed at an unsuspecting dune lizard just a short distance in front of him. It hit the dune lizard, in the centre of its spine, where the neck meets the head. the creature’s limbs loosened and he fell to the ground under the weight of death.

The sun now rising in full glory with no darkness to hide any timid creature. The Human that had just claimed a dune lizard as prey was now in full sight; not excersising any stealth as he hauled his kill back to a corner of Vulture Drifts that he called his home. Clenching the creature’s head effortlessly with his right hand, bow slung over his back.

The roars of mighty Hydras could now be heard rolling over the dunes as they awaken; monstrous, shrilling cries that would strike fear in anyone’s heart. But still the human strolled through the sand with his kill, taking his time, his long, blond hair and long, tattered jacket boasting many old war wounds were flowing over the gentle desert breeze.

He got back to his abode – a small den that had been constructed out of rocks and hidden expertly in the sand – and dropped his kill there on the ground. Hydras could be heard outside in small packs stalking for prey, their large feet sinking gently into the sand under their great weight. Each head of each hydra was breathing heavy, beastly breaths. Still the Human; indifferent to the threats lurking so close by, got out a knife and started carving the meat off of his pray in his dark, quiet den.

He sat there, eating uncooked slivers of lizard meat. Then once he had his fill, he moved the bloody corpse of his prey to a further corner of his den. He then removed his jacket and lied down near the opening of the den in the soft sand and rested.