We stayed a few more days with the Seraph company holding the Snowden Drift passes into the Gendarran Fields, a Company that would soon redesignated themselves the Blood Angels and now pray for the coming of the enemy, and dinner. Before we left they painted their equipment red and I noticed a distinct enhancement to the speed of their maneuvers in the field.
I'd have to keep my head on a swivel, cause if the Greenskins are here then this world really is fucked.
The rapid transition from snowy mountains of the Shiverpeaks to the lush fields of Kryta worked wonders for my general mood. Just over two months in the freezing cold had left me happy to put aside snow and ice for a good long while. Lake Gendarr would prove a lovely source of fun in the coming days as the water in Tyria was buoyant enough for even an armored hulk such as myself to swim safely though it, and a seemingly endless supply of pirates patrolled the lake looking for easy plunder and booty.
Too bad for them I am possessive of all the booty gathered around me.
We had our first encounter with the swashbuckling scallywags as we stayed as guests at the eccentric Almuten Mansion, a lakeside home consisting of a house built on a raised pier to keep it above potential flood lines with an upturned renovated ship forming the upper levels and roof.
The owner Master Wrelk, an Asura (a race of house elf like creatures with every large hands and feet hanging off their tiny bodies, primarily participate in a scholarly meritocracy), was very sad to hear we had not come to his home from Lion's Arch. The little creature was not taking his retirement from the Lionsguard very well and was desperate for news from the city he spent his youth fighting for.
The man's wife, Broga, was far more at home in their large estate. Happy to order about their platoon of servants and take care of their young daughter Mipp. A small thing suffering from the isolation from her peers living on this country estate, her only companion a Norn bodyguard named Tholaun.
Despite Wrelk's obsession with his former home, the family was more than interested to hear of our adventures among the Kodan and our journey south and west. We had just finished laughing about whatever curse made everything I crafted so evil looking when the cannons started firing from across the vineyards.
"Pirates!" screamed Wrelk in frustration, "Lock the doors! Close the shutters! Batten the hatches! Don't let those villains anywhere near me!"
"Dinner and family friendly activities!" Wanda grinned, "You guys really know how to entertain your guests."
"This is for real!" Mistress Broga shouted, "Real pirates are attacking!"
"And for that my family and I thank you." I declared as I opened a large nearby window, "You have been lovely hosts and very generous in offering up your neighbors to us in sacrifice. I graciously accept your gift and provide to you my blessing."
With that I jumped out of the window and a huge pair of arms shot out of my back and extended into wings.
"Crap!" Wanda cursed, "That's cheating!"
"Git gud, scrub!" I laughed back and flew over to the attacking pirates.
By the time dawn came around the Jackdaw pirates were a thing of the past and their booty was ours.
Traveling west from our evening revelries across the lake landed us outside of the Ascalon Settlement, a town established around a signal fire beacon by survivors of the Ascalon-Charr war. Many of the residents believed that one day they would reclaim their kingdom from the Charr, but the fact that the town was currently under attack by Centaurs and losing put lie to that.
The Centaurs were fast in the field and hit hard both physically and magically with their potent earth mages, and they have nearly destroyed humanity across Tyria, but the Charr war machine would crush the horsemen. When you are losing to the guys who would lose to the people you want to fight… Hope is an interesting concept, that's for sure.
Personally I couldn't see why these people would want to live, as the settlement looked like a Tuscany postcard minus the horsemen attacking with their pet rock dogs, one of which glowing gold and grown to epic proportions by potent earth magic.
We of course couldn't miss the chance for some good violence and fresh meat, and set about attacking the Centaurs with our usual enthusiasm and that evening I was happy to spread the good news of meat being back on the menu to the people of the beleaguered settlement.
As I carved up horse meat for the hangry crowd I overheard a conversation between two villagers that made me chuckle.
"Why don't they just leave us alone?"
"Ascalon has a long history of conflict with primitive races. Centuries ago, it was the Charr. Now, it's Centaurs."
"But why?"
"Why do savages ever do anything?"
"(Sigh) 'Cause they can."
These people just can't catch a break, and before long its going to be dragons and their corrupted minions they'd need to fight for control of this patch of land and the chance to live another day.
"Excuse me. You there!" a bald man in full steel plate armor under a cream tabard called out to get my attention.
"Come for some dinner." I offered the man some cuts of deep red meat.
"No thank you." he denied much to his loss, "I am Captain Bradin Glenavon. I am the Commanding Officer in charge of Nebo Terrace and I am in need of aid reclaiming the town after the Centaurs routed our forces in the area."
"That is a terrible thing to hear, Captain." I said, "My family and I would be happy to help fight the Centaurs as much as we can."
"That is excellent." Bradin smiled in relief, "We'd received a description of your family from our eastern forces and having such capable warriors in the area is a godsend after so many of my men have been captured and killed. If we don't retake Nebo Terrace the Centaurs will be able to spread their warfront across all of the Gendarran Fields."
"We can't have that." I told him.
"No we can't. I'll take a rack of ribs." He agreed and became the latest in my effort to turn this war around by turning humanity into some Centaur chomping war hounds.
The Captain rallied what was available of his Seraph forces at dawn for the counter attack on Nebo Terrace and they followed behind us as we charged into the Centaur warriors holding the walled town. Despite the location's strategic importance, it was held by the common rank and file of the Harathi and Tamini tribes. They were nothing more than snacks walking around on four legs for us, but the day wasn't won yet, because as the Seraph fortified their position, Bradin sent us into the field to track down and rescue the townsfolk and any members of his command the Centaurs had taken to work as slaves.
I was getting a very Dothraki vibe from the Centaurs now that I think about it. A race of savage horse men attacking everyone for slaves and loot. I still dig it, but it was a little disappointing to see such an obvious parallel.
Our mission took us across the Bloodfields and up the fortified Blood Hill Centaur Camp. We took the opportunity to take out several of the more powerful Centaur leaders in the area while we worked our way through the various slave pens, and somehow Medusa convinced their rock dogs to turn on their masters.
I don't know how she did it, but we definitely left an impression on the fleeing Centaurs as they cursed us as demons.
Someone should call Masterchief and let him know we hijacked his nickname.