Guild Wars




Battle Report Contest Winner - The Rise and Fall of the Immortals

Flagler Beach, Florida, United States

Sweat flowed from every pore, slicking the handle of his battleaxe and searing his eyes. Winston cursed as his weary muscles forced the weapon up above his head and sent it through the back of the helmeted skull of the enemy guilds last combatant, a tattooed monk necromancer, cutting short a chant he didn’t recognize. Whatever it was, it was better for Winston and his guild-mates that it was left unsaid.

He turned quickly, a full circle in which he catalogued everything in sight from the demon-sun in the sky to the mangled bodies on the ground around a lever that would have laid the enemy fortress open to attack. Alone! Where was the rest of his team? He had been sure he heard his mate Chani’s voice moments before; felt the spells that were her birthright flow through his body healing the results of the attacks he hadn’t bothered to dodge. A cold fear clinched his gut…he stood just outside the sealed gate and the enemy would not be long returning. The only thing worse than going to hell was the trip back but that wouldn’t stop an enemy Priest on the other side of the wall from resurrecting the entire team, and sending them back into battle!

Hoping she had decided to retreat at the last second, Winston began a quick body count. He spotted her halfway through, beneath the corpses of three bone horrors. She had obviously healed him with her last breath, even as the mangled bone and flesh constructs of the necromancer had torn her apart with theirs. His eyes narrowed with a terrible rage and he immediately began to sprint back toward his fortress where they could regroup at the Priests blessing.

His rage began to build as he ran. The Enemy had slain Chani! She never deserved such a brutal fate. The Gods help them all when he returned! Ripped her with claws! Sent those abominations after her out of pure spite! How dare they?! His teeth ground together. Never mind the flag, he was going to burn their fortress to the ground. The enemy shall realize why he was spoken of in awe, why his guild was immortalized! They will regret ever challenging him. His vision ran red and still he ran, forcing his body to go on fueled by rage and the need for vengeance. The rage slowly consumed his thoughts and he forgot that he was going to rendezvous with her, forgot that she was not gone forever; forgot everything but his vengeance.

Slowly, exhaustion forced him to slow. Rage faded slowly into resolution and finally into confusion. He should have been back to the fort by now! Where was he? He stopped and turned, gazing at his surroundings. This wasn’t the way! How did he get here?

“Ever hear of Anton Mesmer, my dear?” The voice was smooth, draped in a sultry tone that did nothing to ease his pounding heart. Winston spun to face a goddess. Her hair shone like spun gold around a soft face and succulent lips. She wore a long green riding dress split in the center to display thigh-high leather boots. Her eyes were clear and commanding, yet he was sure there was a sparkle deep inside just for him.

She smiled and he almost fell to his knees. “Franz Anton was my father. He taught me all I know. Singing…dancing… She winked. “Even the manipulation of the magnetic auras!” She spun slowly in a full circle, a lilting laugh bubbled from her lips. He noticed she was now hovering slightly off the ground. Hexes and mantra’s glittered in the air about them, coalescing around him as he reached for them in awe.

Suddenly a symbol flashed through his mind, obliterating all illusions of peace. The woman was wearing the cape of the enemy guild!! His eyes widened and he frantically grasped for his hammer. The glittering in the air around him became menacing and he tried to wave them away. But the damage had already been done…hexes sheared through his armor and into his flesh, inhibiting movement and concentration.

He roared a battle cry and rushed toward the woman. A desperate swing barely clipped her and she spun to the ground. She stood up unsteadily, obviously very near death. He hadn’t thought he had hit her that hard! He stepped in for the kill, changing tactics and using every skill he had learned to overcome the limitations put on by the mesmers' manipulative abilities. Suddenly he tripped, all skill and ability gone from his movements. Every action he took seemed to backfire and he dazedly realized he had somehow cut himself on something…blood dripped into the dust. He pulled his gaze back to the woman in disbelief where she stood without a scratch, gazing at him with dispassionately imperial eyes.

An alarm sounded far in the distance and he realized the enemy guild had breached the walls of his fortress while this manipulator of souls fueled his rage, blinded him and drew him away to be slain. She had discreetly draped him in so many hexes he was unable to discern reality! A face appeared next to the Mesmer. “Mistress, the battle is won! They were helpless without this maggot to lead them.” The face loomed in Winston’s view.

The woman nodded and folded her arms. “He was impossible to defeat in battle... T’is a real pity he hadn’t joined our Guild before the war. His defeat has placed us at the top, Jaeryl.” Her eyes seared into Winston's memory, alongside the last words he would remember. “Our ascension is complete. Our immortality is undeniable.”