Ex-Nightmare Courtier
This tag belongs to the Additional Tags Category.
Parent tags (more general):
This tag has not been marked common and can't be filtered on (yet).
Works which have used it as a tag:
-
in the summer silence, i was getting nowhere by tokyonightskies
Fandoms: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
24 Apr 2019
Tags
Summary
It's peaceful at the makeshift camp. The Pact made good use of the terrain's steep cliffs to set up a defensible position and barricaded the exit to the grotto with further fortifications. Afritan and Moldark reached the encampment sometime in the afternoon, when the worst of the heat already passed.
They cleaned up with rag and bucket, scrubbing away the sweat, blood and dirt of a day's travel.
Moldark met up with an old acquaintance from his Vigil days--a tall, blue sylvari ranger named Tatule whose smile reminds Afritan of sharks in bloody waters--and traded a few favors so they could have a tent for a whole night. The thief accompanying Tatule, a bright-eyed sylvari with flowers growing through the branches of his hair, shot them a salacious wink.
--
a sylvari guardian and a sylvari warrior stumble from pact camp to pact camp in verdant brink; in between the hostile wildlife, the perilous terrain and the mordrem assault, the sylvari guardian tries to deal with the dragon's call. with varying degrees of success.
-
i know it’ll have to drown me, before i can breathe easy by tokyonightskies
Fandoms: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
29 Aug 2019
Tags
Summary
for #tyriaslibraryevent.
Iron-cast pots are positioned over poked-apart embers with two cooks tending them. Steam wafts up towards the ceiling of the tent. One of the cooks is a young sylvari whom Afritan occasionally talked to after lectures. Her eyes always smiled so kindly on him. She looks up at their heavy footfalls.
The ladle falls from her hand, clattering against the pot. Those kind eyes of hers bulging like a startled cat's.
Afritan furrows his brow and follows the direction of her gaze.
She’s looking at Moldark.
And Moldark stares straight ahead, statuesque, purposely ignoring the shocked expression on her face, the way she draws into herself, small and unthreatening like a mouse. But the breath he draws is deep, uncomfortable. It’s suddenly too tense inside, too cramped. The young sylvari hastily averts her gaze and grabbles to scoop the ladle out of the stew without burning her fingertips.
.
or on a joined expedition, something unforeseen happens.