Digital Salad: Vision Of The Mists – The Mists Begin To Fade

With the time I spend on GW2 rapidly decreasingly recently I realised more and more that my mesmer, Sprinkley Salad, was by far my favourite character. I’d always courted with the idea of getting the Vision Of The Mists greatsword on him to complete his look, along with Bonetti’s Rapier and Poyaqui’s Noggin Focus as his other weapon set, so I decide to aim for that!

gw394

And I’m pleased to say, with much help from CakeBoxFox, that has now been achieved! It’s pretty apt that it’s named Vision Of The Mists at the moment, as it feels like my desire to play GW2 is rapidly disappearing into the proverbial ‘mists’. I still love the world of Tyria, but I’ve achieved what I want to – I have my favourite characters exactly how I like them and I’ve done basically everything with all of them. Game complete? Perhaps.

One thing though, is that I still love the world and especially the characters that I created. I never want to forget the characters I’ve created, so I decided to mark the closing of my GW2 time with a special blog. I used to write stories lots as a kid, although it tailed off more and more as life got more and more busy. Adulthood; its good at stifling creativity! What I wanted to do was write a little short story about the adventures of Sprinkley Salad – who I shall name Delwyn (technically my Salad Ranger’s name, but artistic license!).

Even if you don’t usually read short stories, especially video game ones, maybe give my little one a look. It’s a bit of an insight into what I love about the world of Tyria and my motley crew of Salads.

Sprinkles gets ready to tell his tell - pet druid spirit in tow
Sprinkles gets ready to tell his tale – pet druid spirit in tow

Without further ado:

Delwyn was due to meet with his very first Charr in the morning. He’d heard stories of the beasts from the east from other Sylvari who had traveled, but this was his first time out of the Grove, and Charr didn’t really visit the Grove often – the diet probably didn’t do them much good.

Now that could be awkward, working out the social norms of the Charr. Delwyn knew he would have to start to get used to them pretty quick if he was going to get on with his new partner. It was going to awkward full stop in fact, he wasn’t very good at meeting new people even when they were fellow Sylvari. Why on earth had the Mother Tree decided to send Delwyn on this quest for the people, one of the most green leafed of all her mesmer saplings. Still, she knew more than Delwyn would ever know; it was a great honour that she had seen something within his soul.

A small blue light orb glowed gently beside his blanket of moss, curled up next to a tree somewhere near Queensdale Swamp. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was camped, but he knew where he needed to meet his Charr colleague in the morning – it couldn’t be that difficult to find.

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the bushes nearby, Delwyn grabbed the hilt of the sword the Mother had presented him with tightly – ready to pounce on any attacker.

Out of the bushes burst a Charr bounding at full speed; coming to a sudden halt when she smelt Delwyn’s presence. A second or two later she saw him, poised ready at the bottom of the tree, and so began a staring contest. The Charr was the first to break the stalemate.

“Alright Salad boy, you Delwyn by any chance?” She asked matter of fact, glancing around her and sniffing as she spoke.

“Aye, I might be brave Charr. Might I ask your name also?” Delywn responded.

“I’m Resa Deathclaw; your contact you idiot. Didn’t they tell you anything before sending you off with your packed lunch? Jeez, little help you’re gonna be with this. Right now though, I’d recommend you get ready for a fight”

Their conversation was broken, just as Resa had predicted, as undead started appearing through the bushes all around.

Delwyn was gone in an instant, his former position a cloud of purple sprinkles. He appeared behind an undead, thrusting through its chest with precision before moving on to another as a clone of himself danced around the center of the clearing; distracting the attackers. Resa was a raging torrent of death, physically decapitating any undead that got near enough to her, and swallowing all others up in endless wells of death and despair conjured from her twisted staff.

The undead were poor matches for the pair, their undead minds unable to comprehend the beautiful complexity of the dance of death Delwyn and Resa were carrying out. Within minutes all lay dead at their feet; well, dead for the second time. Perhaps the pour tortured souls of the original inhabitants of those bodies would now find some peace. Delwyn said a small Sylvari chant over the dead bodies as Resa poked them to make sure they wouldn’t pose any more threat.

An adventure lay ahead of the unlikely pair, and its unlikely start might yet be a sign of the difficult road ahead.

 

Digital Salad – lifeasadigitalsalad.wordpress.com

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