“Remarl Got Drunk” was a piece started by Remarl that turned into a long story based in the lore of Guild Wars co-written by members of Marked Souls. The following members contributed to the story: Remarl, Raven, Kousei, and Lyne.
Chapter 01: Remarl Got Drunk
Chapter 02: A Meeting of Friends
Chapter 03: Astra’s Experience
Chapter 04: Confessor Dorian
Chapter 05: The Escape and the Battle
Chapter 06: Nature’s Force
Chapter 07: Camp
Chapter 01 of Remarl Got Drunk
by: Remarl
So, Remarl’s sittin’ under the pier, over in Sanctum Cay, just sippin’ his grog [ie. guzzling it down like there's no tomorrow]. It’s nice and cool there in the shade of the pier; a great spot to mull things over not to mention get rip-roaring drunk. This shady spot also has the benefit of keeping Remarl out of sight from the watchful eyes of White Mantle patrols who are, walking around in the hot sun, policing the area.
Everything would have been fine except this one lazy White Mantle Savant comes sneeking over to get out of the sun and away from his patrol duty. Spying Remarl, he calls his patrol group over. “You’re gonna get it now” says the Savant. Remarl tilts his head to peer at the fellow “gets me ‘nother bot’le o’ grog an’ I’ll forgive ye fer disturbin’ me” says Remarl. The fellow grabs at the bottle thinking to punish Remarl and reward himself at the same time. About then one of the other patrolmen reaches the scene and starts helping his fellow out by grabbing the bottle as well. Now this is a bit too much for any selfrespecting Mesmer to take sitting down. Remarl yanks back on the bottle which throws the two guards off balance. He then pulls his sword out using the upward motion of the pommel to crush the Savants’ jaw followed by a downward thrust to pierce his heart. Taking advantage of the other fellows’ surprise, Remarl activates Illusionary Weaponry and in a series of slices almost too quick to follow takes the other man down.
The other two guards arrive at a distance to see their comrades laying at the Mesmers feet. An evil purplish glow on Remarls sword accompanied by the glazed gleem from his one eye decides the two to get reenforcements. Remarl rushes the guards who drop gear and beat it over the sand into the narrow channel between the mainland and the island which is being used as a White Mantle Army post.
Remarl looks blearily at the two swimmers and using a grog fogged mind decides to pirate the large skiff tied to the pier to go after the White Mantle guards. It takes a bit of Remarls’ skill to pilot the craft across the channel by himself, but the stash of extra grog found onboard helps.
He arrives on a small beach of the island and catches sight of two sets of footprints leading off to a jungle trail. In a very foul mood, Remarl grabs his sword (his wand being drunkingly forgotten in storage back on the mainland) and heads off to fight the White Mantle Army for disturbing his drinking and ruining a decent buzz!
Fortunately for our crazy Mesmer he is stopped on the beach by some friends from his alliance who ended up on this same beach for reasons of their own.
by: Raven
Allorathine Raven is running with supplies to add to her stash of grog onboard the boat docked at Sanctum Cay. She has purchased a large shipment of grog to be transported to her Monument Hall for safe keeping. She is having shipments of alcohol come in from Cantha, Tyria, and Elona all due to arrive in her hall (and ultimately her tummy) at virtually the same time. When Allorathine arrives ahead of schedule, via Ursan speed boost, with her arms full from a large bottle of Juniberry Wine, she is just in time to see her hired transport leave the dock.
“By the finger of Grenth! Where do they think they’re going? I have eight more of these bottles to go and get from Lions Arch. Allorathine waves over one of the henchmen lining the beach; “I’ll pay you fifty gold to watch this for me till I return…I need to catch that boat that’s leaving before it gets too far.” The henchman agrees, and with a nod Allorathine is off running after her transport. She needs to catch that boat not only because it holds her precious alcohol, but also her Destroyer weapons are onboard that ship and she is not about to go through what she had to the first time to get another set! She plows into the water at a dead (undead?) run. Allorathine hopes she can reach the transport skiff before it catches the wind or current in the middle of the channel. It’s then that she notices the boat is moving kind of erratically as if the captain is drunk or has a newbie crew. Perhaps there is some hope after all. She takes a deep breath and starts swimming fiercely towards the skiff whose apparent destination is the opposite shore of the channel. Bouyed by her magical Fissure armor, she reaches the side of the boat just as it runs up onto the small beach. She climbs over the side to get to her weapons so she can deal with any unknown interlopers who might be between her and her alcohol. Grabbing her weapons quickly, she then hops off the boat and sees…”is that! … Remarl?!?!” The Mesmer is swaying from side to side looking into the trees at the beachhead. “By the finger of Grenth! So help you if you’ve touched even one drop of my shipment of alcohol you’ll be So very sorry you did! What are you doing here anyway?”
by: Kousei
After a long journey, he finally sees the island spoken of by Livia. Ever since Kousei’s decision to embrace the necrotic arts he has been searching for ways to increase his command of them and according to Livia the ruins here contain the secret to doing so. “It all comes down to this,” he thought to himself as he gazed upon the island and the barely visible ruins deep within it.
It all started during Kousei’s recent adventures in the Asuran territory. He realized that his warrior skills alone would not get him through the battles ahead. After having trained in all of the arts of Tyria, Cantha, and Elona, Kousei decided that the duality of necrotic blood arts would suit his style well. In the weeks following that decision, Kousei trained furiously and every day he increased his understanding of how to empower himself using the blood of his enemies.
His knowledge of the skills of blood necromancy was also increasing daily but after travelling deep into the Shiverpeaks to gain the secrets of Well of Power, he knew there had to be other skills with this sort of power. His journey for these more powerful elite skills took him to all 3 continents and the journey would end here. After visiting these ruins, he would master blood magic.
As the boat reached the shore, Kousei began to see the threatening stone statues and engravings that scattered the area. He knew these were to serve as warnings to those who would attempt to proceed towards the ruins and he unconsciously tightened his grip on his sword. Livia had warned him of the dangers to be faced by those that would seek the power of these ruins. “I better watch my step,” he muttered aloud and silently began to question his decision to make this trip alone.
“The trip which led to the ruins was pleasantly uneventful,” Kousei thought to himself as he could see the ruins only a little ways off. The usual jungle creatures crossed his path but nothing which would match the seriousness of Livia’s warning. “Move it! Confessor Dorian wants the secrets of these ruins yesterday!” said a voice heard in the distance and Kousei quickly froze and crouched down. He approached slowly the rest of the way only to see a battalion of White Mantle scouring the ruins.
Without the others, Kousei would be no match for all of them. “These guys are starting to annoy me…” he thought as he recalled how many times he and his friends had been made to go through White Mantle. Almost without thinking, Kousei began to scout the area as he slowly circled the ruins. The battalion was scattered over the entire complex and it may be possible to separate a few at a time but the possibility was still there of bringing the entirety of them down upon him.
His plans would have to wait though as he knew that if he were to have any chance it would have to be by moonlight and the sun was still high in the sky. “No point in doing anything but resting until then,” he quietly whispered aloud settled on never leaving on another journey alone again. Kousei had seen a section of ruins which was well hidden to the rear of the main entrance and best of all it had gone unnoticed by the Mantle. As he entered his would be camp, he looked around to see find a good place to hide. He entered the next room and was amazed to see murals depicting necromancers using many of the skills that he had travelled world to learn. “Maybe I’ll take a better look around this place.” he thought. He continued deeper into the ruins and realized that he would soon be under the main temple that the White Mantle scoured so feverously. He was enthralled by what he saw more and more every room and was amazed that the builders of these ruins had knowledge of every single one of the skills of necrotic blood magic.
The last room must have been 9 or 10 rooms in and was much more elaborate than the previous. It contained carvings, statues, and in the center of the back wall was a single, waste high, heavily inscribed pedestal. Kousei approached the pedestal and instant focused on the engravings, no channels, carved into the top. The channels seemed drain into the wall behind. Kousei studied the pedestal and remembered that only one skill was depicted in the previous room: Offering of Blood. “Could this be the altar of the last blood magic elite skill on my quest?” he thought. He was not going to leave this place until he tried and he quickly cast Offering of Blood. His blood seemed to empower the pedestal and as it reached the drain into the wall the altar in the center of the room moved. Kousei could see an opening underneath no but the altar would not budge. He reached into his belt pouch and pulled out his Signet of Strength as he smiled to himself.
The room underneath was simple and plain except for the wall directly across from the staircase that was entirely covered by a mirror. As he gazed into the mirror, his reflection changed and spoke, “you who have come for the power of these ruins must first overcome its power.” When the voice stopped, a Doppelganger stepped out of the mirror as Kousei quickly jumped back and armed himself. Instinctively, Kousei swung his sword only to see it pass directly through the ghostlike Doppelganger. The Doppelganger spoke an incantation and Kousei could feel the life being drained from him as the Doppelganger seemed to feed off of it. He had felt these affects before but never to this extent. No one had a Life Siphon so powerful. He thought aloud, “This must be the final elite skill, Life Transfer.”
His mind whirled. He knew at this rate he wouldn’t last long against the Doppelganger. He quickly cast the only spell that he knew of that would save him: Vampiric Spirit. As the life ran back into him, he knew what he had to do. Life stealing blood magic was the only thing that affected the Doppelganger. Using Life Siphon and Vampiric Spirit to keep himself alive, Kousei cast Soul Leech and concentrated on staying out of touch range to enforce the effects of Soul Leech. Being a warrior, Kousei had to conserve his energy and the battle seemed to last an eternity.
Both participants were beginning to weaken but Kousei knew that if he didn’t finish this battle soon then it very well may be his last. Then he recognized the incantation for Blood Renewal. “This is it!” he though. Kousei quickly ran up and cast Vampiric Bite and Vampiric Touch. The Doppelganger stumbled back a step then crouched. “You have proven your worth,” said the Doppelganger as he stepped back into the mirror and was gone. Kousei could barely stand but his first thought was “how do I capture the skill Life Transfer?” Before he could finish his thought, the room began to give off a dark green glow. “The room itself,” Kousei said to himself as he quickly used his last Signet of Capture.
Awakening the next day, Kousei began to think about how to handle the White Mantle surrounding the ruins. He knew he could not let them find what he had the day before. He was still weak and he decided that the best course of action was to go back for help and return to finish the White Mantle threat.
As he returned to the beach, he overheard a small group of maybe 2 or 3 White Mantle in a hurry to “warn the others of intruders coming.” Upon hearing this, Kousei quickly decided to test his new skill. The Mantle quickly turned to fight as their life began draining from them. As his adrenaline began pumping, Kousei lunged out of the jungle brush to finished the first with a single Sun and Moon Slash and then made quick work of the second with a Barbarous Slice and Gash combo. He hid the two in the jungle brush and continued toward the beach staying parallel to the main path.
Upon reaching the beach, he was extremely surprised to see Remarl and Allorathine arguing about spirits. Kousei entered the conversation with “If he did touch your shipment, he had better share because after the last two days I need a drink!”
by: Lyne
The dunes were where she made her life, and had a tough upbringing, wurms devastated her homeland, and she became a hermit. In her travels through the tough territory she met an elder Shaman, who shared some of his secret potions and salves that healed the deepest wounds. She took the counsel of the Wurka tribe in the caves near the desolation and learned the skills of combat. She sat in devotion in the temples of Dwana and was given the gift of protection after fasting for 28 days. She trained on the shores of Tyria with an Alchemist who showed her the ways of the words and made her practice incantations.
When she reached maturity she was still seeking the wisdom of the stars, and realized that had she known everything there is to know about healing, there would still be the human soul that eluded her. So she decided to forfeit her life of loneliness and give of herself to the helpless and needy.
After her years of travel she came to know the Tyrian desert dwellers and they welcomed her in their midst. Her gift of healing made her useful to the tribes so Amani settled with them and provided wisdom and care for the needy. Even in the company of their festivals and fetes, she still craved her sanctuary, her thoughtful meditations. Her sacrifice of love was always made at the oasis of life in the small desert town where she always wonders at human nature, and is always in awe of it’s strength and beauty.
Then came the day where they called upon her and sat in a council. The tribe leader talked to her of the danger of the western shores, and his kin sent him a massage that he needed help to renew the hope of his tribe in the fight against slavery in that realm. She was shocked at the power that the enemy wielded… making minions, and controlling them… killing peasants savagely, and the ones who did not fight were taken into slavery mining for gold and silver in the caves of the Shiverpeaks. This, to her, was devastating, as she did not believe that humans could be so vicious as to kill their own kind. She did not believe that humans can perform genocide and slavery. The tribe leader asked her if she could go and lend her gifts and teach the people how to heal as she healed with the words of wisdom from Dwana. The salves and potions were a good source, but throughout time, she was able to contrive a sanctified way to change even those into words of power and energy that would heal from afar, and she was very adept at it. Even as she spoke to the tribe leader, she was not sure she could go, because she did not believe that Dwana had given her that gift for it to fall into the hands of the enemy. She asked for time. Time to meditate, time to ask, time to seek the wisdom of life and death. She sat for days at her meditation spot where she prayed and sang.
After three days she received Dwana’s blessing. She was to go and help the people in the west, help them learn to heal with the sanctified words, so that they may protect the innocent, and heal the defenders.
She was granted passage on a trade ship going west, and said her good byes with tears of regret and joy. Whilst on board, she contemplated how she could help the tribe in delivering their citizens from the claws of slavery. She felt that she was ill equipped to do so without the help of warriors and combatants. So she devoted the rest of the trip in supplication and exaltation to Dwana in expectation to have the answer when the time is right.
The ship captain did not want to land on the dangerous shores on the western side of the island, so he provided her with a small boat to take her there and she was on her own again. She then arrived at the shores of the island where the beasts of darkness and malicious intents lived. She encountered a few lightning drakes on the beach, but she was able to protect herself, and she eluded them easily.
She walked a short time before encountering two men and a woman on the beach. One of the men wore heavy armor and shocking red hair styled in pony tail of all things, the other looked like a dignified sorcerer, but seemed to be very tipsy and wielded a sword emanating a purple aura. As for the woman, she looked like a powerful dark witch of the time of old. The witch seemed quite upset at the sorcerer and was pointing her finger at him accusingly. Amani was not sure how to perceive them, were they friends, or foes?
