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Category: Guild Wars 2

The Silence of Nightmares

I had visions. Some so tremendously nightmarish I would never retell the tale. Others so murky I had to find others to help.

Visions of a strange city, maybe a temple.. I could not tell which

The visions plagued me but I journeyed. Bleary-eyed and slack-jawed I traversed the land looking for a clue as to what this place is. Where it was. Some spoke in hushed whispers as I passed, my gaze passed over them and they turned to hide their faces. And I didn’t know where all this was coming from. Bewildered, I kept moving, from village to township, hillside to vale. And at every stop, every night, every bed another vision found me.

They started with form, patterns I recognized and shapes I knew. Then as time moved the visions became dreams, the dreams turned into nightmares. First the mists, a theme among themes.

Then to a land blasted, torn and rendered inhospitable. Flooded and risen, cursed and poisoned.

As I fell ever downward I knew not where I would stop.

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Dreams of other places..

I woke with a start, breathing labored. I was trembling from the dream.. a dream where I was in a cave.. in a forest.. under.. underground?

The visions clung to me vividly and yet distant. Close enough to touch, the stench of decay and moist earth filled my nostrils. This was too vivid to be a dream, it must be a message. I must find this place, I must know what brings me here.

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Vision Quest

I should know better than to touch strange artifacts. During one Priory initiation I was offered the chance to examine an unusual hourglass. I was even encouraged to touch it.

That should have been sufficient warning. I know better, I really do. What came next cannot be described sufficiently.

I was reliving memories someone else had collected in this fractured landscape. Teachings and lost thoughts amidst the jutting shards of crystal. It was only through the most focused concentration that I was able to see the dangers in time to defend myself.

My normal illusions seemed to have more life here and I was having a hard time know which ‘me’ was true and which were not.

No surface reflected my properly. At first I thought it was just distorted by the materials, the very crystals that made up the floors. But then I started to see the differences, the underlying message hidden in the space around me.

This will take time to decipher. I’ve arranged for lodging at the Priory headquarters so I can better access their library whilst I delve into the meaning of my visions.

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And so the journey continues..

Oh what a week it had been. Or was it two weeks? I’ve lost count.. I’ve ridden from the jungles of Maguuma to the Crystal Desert. I’ve seen leagues of countryside pass from the saddle of my raptor, and while I yearn for a cold ale and a warm biscuit I fear I’ll not rest soon.

I’ve recently mastered the base tenets of Chronomancy and am able to drop wells of time so mystifying that foes feel themselves lost in memory.

I ventured west into Maguuma, deep into the jungle which even now claims the lives of foolish adventurer’s. Your biggest danger there is in falling, for there is no forest floor to land upon. No, the whole place is a series of layered branches and platforms nestled well above the seemingly endless pit of roots and ever-writhing vines beneath. I wasn’t there long, but certainly long enough to know I’d need to return with sufficient supply and patience. There’s few easy paths through the branches and frequently I was blocked by what could have been easily been overcome with a small airship.

The Pact has made a foothold though it struggles daily to maintain that presence. I spent a number of nights helping their patrols and crossed paths with a variety of troll I can only describe as “Worse than usual”. Seems Mordremoth, the jungle dragon, has taken to mutating local fauna and has produced a variety of troll I hope remains in Maguuma. I wonder how long he’s been working at this, or if this is just a recent occurrence coinciding with his reawakening.

I’ve made a note to stop in with the Priory scholars on my way east. I’m curious to know more about the jungle before Scarlet.

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Adventures in foreign lands and scaly mounts, part 3

I’ve rolled into the hills north of Lion’s Arch looking for my prey. I found it among the rocks and rivers and lakes. Though I’m still looking and I’ll keep hunting.

I have mastered the base tenets of Chronomancy, a feat which has taught me the value of carrying a shield. The more advanced bits will take more time and so I continue to adventure around the lands with my trusty raptor.

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Adventures in foreign lands and scaly mounts

A friend of mine met me, advised me on steps to take. I ventured into Elona, a land far to the southeast from Lion’s Arch and rescued some people. They volunteered their mount, a scaly raptor, to aid me. Poor thing enjoys a good scratch and sometimes sniffs the air much like a large puppy.

We’ve made a decent dab of progress into unlocking some of the new powers out there. I’m within a few steps of embracing Chronomancy. We’ll see how it holds my attention here shortly.

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It’s a name. I came back to Guild Wars 2. I wasn’t planning on it ever again but then the universe catches you sometimes and reminds you ad naseum until you relent. I got an email about new content. A friend went to join some raid group and play. And then another friend was trying it out. And then my dad was asking if I was going to do the holiday content.

Fine fine. I’ll come back and play. But I’m not feeling my old Mesmer Vestolo. No, I’ve become something of an adventurer in character design. I lean towards aliens in space games and extravagant ones in fantasy.

So this is Daguethi, named after two days of pouring over lists of Celtic, Welsh and old Arthurian naming lists. See, Daguethi is Sylvari, a race of plant people who’s lore is in line with Arthurian legend in places.

And since I prefer aliens I’m making him my main for the time being. Buying him perks like extra bag space, a costume since all the normal armor just doesn’t look good on him. I’m still dialing in the color on the clothes, but this is Fashion Wars so I’m liable to be on this piece for a while. Meanwhile I have a plethora of old and new quests to redo so I’ll be busy at that for a while. My pre-2018 resolution is to find a game with a good community behind it and settle in for a while. Actually play for more than my typical two weeks.

You’ll see more posts on Daguethi and my adventures moving forward. I’m spicing up the blog with a dash of my creative storytelling I post on Tumblr. Speaking of which, you’ll find a link at the bottom for my Tumblr if that’s your thing.


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I quested for a night among the snowy tops of the Shiverpeaks, a land I despise for the piercing cold.  I have places I would rather be, but I have a task at hand.

Durmond Priory has a way of poking their nose into business better left for Warriors.  I found many of their encampments dangerously close to Dredge excavations, some of them right in the middle and all of their researchers eager to ask for assistance in securing their lines.  I helped as best I  can but I left them all with the same advice: Move.  I’ve known Dredge to expand excavations aggressively and all I could think of was how many people would die all for the pursuit of ancient knowledge.

I managed to find an aged Dwarven Key what i tucked into my pack.  It’ll come in handy some day, i’m sure.

My contact in the Order of Whispers met me at Spearhaunt Bane, a welcome shelter from the biting wind and the howl of battle at Black Earth Coalmine nearby.  Orders in hand I took shelter among the ruins for the night before returning to my journey.

I woke in the morning to the sounds of battle.  The Dredge had taken offense to the camp so near their mine and were staging an offensive to capture the ruins.  Seeing little chance in fighting off a concentrated force I made my way to the Asuran waypoint and translocated out of Dredgehaunt, leaving the biting wind behind me.

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I practice The Mirrored Way.  I practice The Shattered Visage.  I am Lyssa’s reflection.

I am the Shattered Mirror.

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