About the Author

Author Grost Shamtin

Stories : The Legend of: Henley Gabbles, Thy Silver Mes

GuildWars tale by Grost Shamtin, 2010-07-20T14:05:00.0000000. Reads: 1326
Average Rating: 3 Rate it: 1 2 3 4 5

Introduction

A man born into Ascalon, a hero in the making. This is about a young man who chose a path many followed, but none finished. He would face many challenges, but only he could counter these difficulties. Brought into the waging war of the Charr, the temporary peace among Luxons and Kurzicks, and the trials in many parts of the world, he would decide all of their endings.

Chapter 1

        "Come for training!" The town crier yelled at the new recruits. "Come for vengeance!"
        Henley stepped off the small wagon that many of the new recruits were piled into. Figures, three hours on the worst conditions I have ever been in, then this, Henley said to himself. He quickly jumped off the wagon, almost losing his backpack in the process. He quickly paced up to the town crier.
        His long, thin legs almost couldn't keep up with his body. His face was somewhat angular and pale. His upper torso, even with broad shoulders, did not have the physical strength of the trained farmers and workers.
        "Sir, where will I be headed?" Henley said with a slight tremble among his lips.
        The town crier stood upon his pedestal spreading the words of Ascalon to all. He looked down upon Henley, with a slight smirk upon his face. "What do you plan on being soldier?"
        Being? Henley figured that all of the troops were the same, minus the monks he had seen roaming with guards. A deep thought went into his mind. What would he be?
         "Well sir... I am not very sure of what I should be. What do you think?" Henley replied.
        The crier's grin grew bigger, "Well, in that case, go see Mr. Saberlin, hes down by the gate. Careful though, he bites."
        Thankful, Henley nodded at the crier and continued on his way. Even though the walk was short, Henley noticed many things around Ascalon. The place honestly felt more like a military base then a capital city. It seemed as if around every corner there was another group of guards was watching and waiting for any suspicious people. Their size and armor made them look more beastly then human. The blood red paint that covered each plate lined with miniature spikes had supposably made many creatures of the known kingdom run in fear.
        However, even with the heavy armies of anxious troops, the military effect was countered by awe of the towering buildings and castle. The artwork and architect, though simple, was very elegant for such a waring community. The elegance of the towering castle not only brought a sense of security, but a thing of beauty that Henley could not fully comprehend.
        Henley approached another man standing on a pedestal. He carried one of the Ascalon Blades, a very potent and deadly sword. Figuring that the man was shouting orders and pointing people into the right direction, he had to be Saberlin. 
        "Excuse me, are you Mr. Saberlin?" Henley asked as he neared the man.
        "Why is it your concern, newblood!?" The man fired back in response.
        "Well sir, I was asked by the town crier if I knew what I wanted to be, I said no, so he sai-,"
        "Ahhh I see," Interrupted Saberlin as he viewed the new recruit, "You, you don't exactly have a build of a Warrior.... Nor the keen senses of a Ranger...,"
        Saberlin rubbed his chin in a thoughtful way. Then, just like a light turning on above his head, he eyed Henley and put a big smile across his face.  "I know what you will be."
        Reaching into a cabinet nearby, he pulled out what looked like a mace. However, closer examination showed that the round came from bent iron wires around a small floating sphere in the middle. The rod was polished to a sheen and made of solid steel.
        "Take this newblood," He said with a smile, "Go now, Mesmer. Seek the crier near the markets, he will tell you where to find your new trainer."
        Saberlin quickly handed the rod to Henley and yelled at the rest to continue on.  
                The start of a hero began.

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