Rage of the Invaders

Guild Wars

Rage of the Invaders

Troll

7/20/2114

‘They came as ghosts and demons did they return’

Deviant Prime 92

The Latter Wars

1

Echoes

D

awns’ early light tore through the flimsy partitions of the command tent casting the insides in a pallid amber hue dulled by the lingering mist of a chilling night. Privy to the events of a night before, six hooded figures sat across a wooden table of spartan design. I am one of the six and this is not my idea of a pleasant morning. Events of the night before had ended my string of lazy days at the camp. My name is Troll Nihil and I am a member of one of the strongest war guilds in the Kingdom of Cabina.

A hundred years ago during the great siege of Anhilis on the outer territories of Cabina. A group of mercenaries were created by the then High Vozul of Eastern Cabina High Regent Anhilis Lorst. They were created to form a guerilla unit that would act as a thorn in the side of the besieging forces. The strategy worked, the attackers were caught in a war on both fronts- at night the annoying raids of the mercenary band and in daylight by the honor guard of Cabina. It wasn’t long before they succumbed and fled the lands. The High Regent was pleased, so pleased that he established an act - one that allowed the creation of registered war guilds to serve as security extensions of the military. In a few years, dozens of guilds had sprung up all over Cabina. However, these guilds grew so strong that Cabinas’ military might spread far beyond its borders…it wasn’t long before business became bad for the guilds. With the increased and famed military might of Cabina, wars became few and far between, more and more guilds disbanded due to insufficient funding from a Kingdom that was fast seeing them as a nuisance. With no wars to fight and few contracts coming from the wealthy citizens, guilds became embittered and turned their ire inwards amongst themselves. This opened the era of the Latter Wars, guild against guild, brother against brother. The High Regent did nothing to stem the bloodshed however, It didn’t take long for the violence to attract the usual patrons of chaos and blood within the Kingdom. The rich and powerful had grown fond of the ‘sport’ as they called the senseless slaughter of individuals formerly sworn to protecting the kingdom with their very lives. They pumped gold into the bloodletting and placed colossal bets on the side for battles between guilds. For the guilds however, things couldn’t be any better- they were being paid again and with more motivation they strove to better their skills. The stronger guilds soon absorbed the weaker ones to grow even larger. Battles between the strong guilds were always highly anticipated and soon guild wars were legalized and measures were created to lessen the mortality rate. It wasn’t long before the general public got in on the act and heroes were raised and songs made about their exploits in the wars.

My Grandfather Regis Nihil was one of such heroes. Celebrated throughout the five cities he single handedly brought down the twin guilds of Daertha- a demonic sect that used necro-afia on their members to deaden pain and whatnot but that’s a story for another time. I grew up worshiping him, I mean wouldn’t you? He soon retired from active guild duty and decided to buy a small guild located in his birth-town. I guess it was on a whim because no small upcoming guild came up for long without being absorbed or snuffed out by the power guilds. He bought it anyway and I can remember clearly that day out in the fields beyond the manor, I was playing guilds with Tarey Sorrin, Nep Zilo and Klaus Varen - we all attended the same war academy – Guilds was a strategy board game based on arc-afia, a movement spell that animated the wooden pieces on a board designed to simulate a battle field. I looked on in dismay as minute forces charged across the board to encroach on my territories. Nep had allied with Tarey in a pincer attack concealed by a veil card ruinously picked by Tarey and insolent obnoxious Klaus had not agreed to an alliance. It was my turn to draw a card and the outcome could very well determine the outcome of the game. The grin on their faces could illuminate a thousand planets- trying to ignore them; I steeled myself, reached into the deck with anticipation all the while mumbling a litany against ill luck and as my fingers brushed the surface of the card, my breath caught in my throat and with a subtle firm tug, flipped the whole deck over the board. The result was as I’d planned, the cards tumbled in stacks knocking over the forces arrayed on the board and simultaneously knocking over the memory globe while creating enough distraction for me to dive away into a roll and with gleeful rapture burst into a sprint with the furious duo of Nep and Tarey close on my heels and Klaus looking on. I’d been focused on jeering at them behind me when I ran into my Grandfather; the impact knocked both air and feet away from me, I suspect it was some shield-related afia because I was knocked  back into Nep and Tarey as they came up behind me.

Later that day while the four of us sat around a campfire with full bellies watching the stars adorn the night, Grandfather told us a story; a tale of guilds great and small, magical lands leagues away and beyond the frozen mountains, an underwater kingdom and the four cardinal rulers, an evil land far to the north and unsung heroes. There we sat, as tears streamed down our faces for reasons unknown, awe and yearning gripping our tiny hearts threatening to hold them still, and a fire in our eyes that warmed our faces and stole our voices binding us to the immortal promise of adventure and glory and then the tale was at an end.

Grandfather looked to each one of us around the dying embers of the campfire with a smile and said ‘My dear boys you must always understand that dreams will always be dreams until we awake from them’.

The next day, we became Grandfathers’ first guild members and went into training as his little apprentices and since then we’d never had cause to look back.

Fifteen good years later, my brief musings are at and end and we are at war again. The little guild formed by an old man and four scrawny runts is no more. Today we are the infamous Deadwood guild, arguably the strongest guild south of Cabina, we’ve come a long way from fighting and sparring with sticks and third-rate afia.

The climb to the top was anything but easy, we lost Grandfather along the way but all great tales require some sacrifice. We’ve grown now, in size and strength; with three generals, three alpha-level scouts, an omega afia oracle, five honor guard and six acolytes we’ve made it far.

Today we face a dark guild, the Wild Ones, they are thirty strong and have been around for as long as we have. If there was such a thing as rivalry between guilds, they would be our nemesis…or so they would like to think.

I look back into the tent, adjust my hood and return to my place amongst age old friends as Neps’ voice breaks the palpable silence ‘let us begin’.