[S, RP:open] Letters to...

[unseen]

Dear Cain Draco,

My friend I haven’t seen you in many moons. I sincerely hope you are doing well. No doubt you are with a lovely necromancer woman having your bone risen, and I can only hope you are performing well for the reputation of our Guild. I miss your presence and hope to have some gifts for you when you return. I visited the friend of yours in the desert that you were eager to meet. He was difficult to find and I spent a good time just circling the rock he was on before noticing a bridge. Don’t tell anyone though. Fortunately I was able to slay the many scarabs that chased me while walking around and around.

Anyway come back soon, as the darkness isn’t as bad with you around, for I know you are the master of those that dwell within it. Plus you don’t leave me in dark caves all alone, like some people.

Your friend,

Enoch.

[Patrograd]

Spurius looked around the prospective mail carriers.

"Which one of you knows the Beastmaster of Bloodstone fen?", she asked.

"I do Ma'am", replied a burly hustler sat in the corner, smoking a strange looking pipe. "I have often delivered letters from ladies to Eno..., erm, Knight Enoch", he continued. In his mind's eye the jingle of Enoch's fat purse reminded him to use the name the young Ranger liked to be called.

"Take this then", Spurius said, "Take it with all haste to him".

_____________________________

My Dear Beastmaster

Do you wish to finally meet your match? If you want to badly enough, you will find me

With kindest Regards

The Monk with the Softest Hands in Tyria

________________________________


Spurius smiled to herself. If that doesnt bring him running then nothing will.
_________________
Patrograd DarkLord
Recruiting Officer
The Noble Guild of Gentlefolk and Scholars
http://forums.guild-war.co.uk/

[unseen]

Smirking as he penned a reply to the little upsatr, he paused at several moments throughout writing to laugh inwardly to himself.

Dear Spurius,

I don't remember claiming to be the beastmaster of bloodstone fen, though many consider me to be such. By 'Match' I am not quite sure what you mean. If you are challenging my good self to combat, I suggest you find a warrior who would enjoy that past time more than myself. If however, you are insinuatting that you could tame a man such as myself, I am afraid your are sorely mistaken.

I assure you that the bad things you have heard about me are nothing but rumours and lies. the good stuff is of course all true.

Your claim to having the softest hands would need be tested as a friend of mine has hands that are soft enough to handle the most delicate of healths. from the tone of your letter and challenge I doubt you are very soft at all.

My time is of course very precious, and if you truly consider yourself my match in any manner of the word, I bid you 'just bring it'. For I am without fear. Though be warned your challenge and your letter change nothing, to get my attention you'll have to wait in line like every other woman.

I look forward to see what you've got.

--Enoch Ferealheart
Melandru's chosen

[Patrograd]

Spurius smiled as she retrieved the note from Thom' sweating hands.

Her smile broadened further as she read the reply.

She knew now that she had piqued his interest. Now it was just a matter of waiting.
_________________
Patrograd DarkLord
Recruiting Officer
The Noble Guild of Gentlefolk and Scholars
http://forums.guild-war.co.uk/

[unseen]

Magatsu Samura
____________
No blossoms and no moon,
and he is drinking sake
all alone!
______________

I sat watching him as he cursed at the sky and wrote his parchment. Venting some hate for the world born of his travels no doubt. My presence is known by the ranger of that I am certain though he pays me no mind. Sitting beneath the falls, I quietly meditate. Though I am ever vigilante of the self proclaimed ‘beastmaster of bloodstone fen’. A strange title for he has no pet, nor have I ever seen him with one. Though logic doesn’t seem to apply to this particular member of our Guild.

Once his letter is penned he pins it to a tree. I pay it no mind, though wonder why he would write with such passion a letter that no one is to read. It was then that he cracked open the jug of sake besides him and began to drink. Drowning the ill feelings within him, though they will not be vanquished by simply drinking. He truly is a foolish individual. Though I have heard him curse the idols that stand in the cities and wilds. In that much he has been enlightened. Strength is not born of stone and man carved idols. I watched as he cut balthzar down with his arrows. The ranger’s use of profanity is unmatched anywhere on Tyria. I have never heard a god called a “spineless c**t f**k” before and I doubt I will again.

The one thing I can say for this ranger is he does everything with a passion, even if the things he does are normally wrong. The road to enlightenment is not travelled by physical deeds alone.

[unseen]

Over the monastery wall he climbed. Landing in the nettles below. They stung and bit his skin, the pain was of little concern for he was free of the Abbots. Free to run wild through the forests and over the hills. He’d return to his Grandfather like he had planned. Out in the wilds he ran, jumping logs and singing with the birds in the trees above. Reaching a brook south of regent valley, he saw his first bear eating apples. Silently watching the bear, he stalked it. Picking up a stick as a make shift spear. He would prove to his grandfather that he was truly a man by hunting this great beast. Slowly surely he made his way closer. Preparing to strike, he paused. Looking over his shoulder to behold a second bear that he had not seen or heard until it was upon him. Seeing the claws come down towards him, then a holy staff intercept the fierce strike. His world turned black.

Later he awoke at the monastery. He had failed to escape again, but it was only his second attempt that month. Even as he was admonished he was planning his next escape. It seemed the abbots saw the thoughts behind his eyes. Deciding to punish him again, his heart sank as they placed him in the basement of the monastery. Reaching out to the door above which let in the only light. Then the door closed and the bolts were set in place. Sitting down, he curled into an almost fetal position he rocked back and forth slowly. Staring into the darkness, he opened his mouth as the darkness stared back. A soundless scream escaped him, but even had he given his fear voice there was no one to hear his cries.

Enoch looked up from the river before him, glancing back at Magatsu still keeping his silent vigil before washing his face and the memory of his childhood from his mind.

[unseen]

Magastu Samura
_________
The wind howls
but the mountain remains
__________


Dear Circle,

I am writing to you to express concerns over Enoch Feralheart’s behaviour. As our caravan moved from Bettletum to the Hot springs. He stood upon the carriage removed his top and shouted “tengu titties” while making very rude and suggestive actions with his hands. Modesty prevents detail but if you can imagine him holding to melons before his chest you will be close to what he actually did. The tengu in the distance were angered by his shouting and made to attack the caravan. The fact that he killed them before anyone was harmed is a defence. Yet his actions were reckless and could have very well resulted in injury.

I have spoken with him about seeking help. But he seems to hold little regard for his monastery training. When I pressed the issue and asked if he would engage in some meditation, he said he was praying very hard with the monkess Dameer. I spoke with her briefly and I feel that she is quiet like Enoch himself. Though my fearing she is uncontrolled is balanced by the presence of her brave husband Arioch. Who I have heard is quite fearless in battle. Unlike Enoch.

In short I believe that Enoch is a danger to himself and others and should therefore, be sat down and spoke to about his issues. At the very least he should be made to seek proper help. By this I mean not from a Monk who would be corrupted by his words. He won’t listen to me. Maybe perchance he will listen to one of you.

Your humble servant

Magatsu Samura.

[erah]

Enoch, old Friend

As i returned from my meditation exile i noticed something changed in you. Something wich others seem to wory but wich intreegs me. And now as i emerged from Augury Rock asecended i see it more clearly whit my new eyes.

Your trip to hell seems to have made you hunger for death and i don't know if you see it as a curse or an asset?

i have embrased death trough my necromancer training and now a taught has come to my mind that maby you should seek a trainer in the necromancer ways so that you could find peace with in your soul.

There are somethings wich i can teach you, but if you trully feel that you wish t o learn more than what i can show you then i have hears that there is a trainer somewhere in the desert.

Think about this and don't be afraid for death and thirst of blood isn't nessesery a bad thing

-Cain Drago
_________________
My spelling is wobbly. It's good spelling but it wobbles and the letters get in the wrong place

[unseen]

Dear Cain,

I appreciate your concern. It is true that I hungered for blood at one point. Though with the help of fellow monks I have proceeded through that curtain and been somewhat born anew. Though I do still have a fascination with necromancers it seems. I am almost drawn to them like a moth to the fire. That being my analogy I am afraid I may get burnt, but since when did fear stop one such as I?

I am pleased that you have ascended and taken your place as a God of death and decay. It is somehow disturbing to see you work your magics, and I feel I wouldn’t have the stomach for your brand of power. I am often surprised that Zenaide too shares many of your gifts. To pursue your line of expertise would require me to spend many hours in the company of those no longer breathing, and venture into catacombs where the absence of light is absolute. I think all things considered necromancy is not for one such as I. though I will keep your generous offer in mind.

That as an aside, I hope we meet soon. For I have many necromancer friends I’m sure you would enjoy meeting. You can exchange scar patterns or whatever it is demons do to socialise.

Be well my friend.

--E

[unseen]

In the foot hills of Lion’s arch, he head set up his small tent. Sitting by the campfire, Enoch warmed his hands as dawn broke on the horizon. Squinting into the distant east as the horizon gave birth to the sun. he smiled before turning back to the fire. He then began scribbling down his letter to Dameer.

Dear Dameer,

I have been practicing the meditation that you suggested. Though I find it better upon a prayer mat of some kind than kneeling on the naked ground. Unfortunately the meditation does not seem to be enough. I have gotten myself into 3 fights with brutes in the last couple of days and 2 fights with mesmers. Though one of those was probably just her being a bit of a cow. Last but not least I threatened to slap Magatsu upside his head. That is very bad isn’t it? I think it may be because I am missing Heidi quite badly now. I’ve searched high and low for her, but can find no trace.

I also haven’t seen you in many days or Arioch. Which also brings a sadness to my soul. In fact I haven’t seen Zenaide, Xelonir or Dynamo for a couple of days now either. I’m beginning to think they are avoiding me. Maybe it was something I said?

Well it is time for breakfast now. So I’ll have to settle down to eating it, alone.(hint hint).

Speak with thee soon.

--E

[Inigo the Vain]

To whom it may concern,

Shu has informed of your full and humble apology. Believe me when I say that initial hostile reactions are not a new occurrence to me. Often when confronted by my dashing good looks, men’s insecurities bubble to the surface resulting in aggression on their part and confrontation. Being faced with your own inadequacies must have been difficult for you leading to your overemotional outbursts and baseless accusations. May I recommend more poise in the future. Now in the past, my favoured response would have involved a plank with you on the end of it above shark infested seas, however, given that Shu has developed a liking for you (and the fact that I no longer have a boat) I am prepared to offer you the hand of friendship. Needless to say, if you would prefer the slap of my glove that also can be arranged.

Yours in good faith,

Inigo

[unseen]

Dear Inigo my bestest friend in the whole wide world,

I thank you for your letter and most generous offer of friendship and violence.

Despite the tone, insults and barely hidden in threats contained in your letter. I accept your offer of ‘friendship’.

Though if you ever find yourself in need of a ‘point man’ or drinking buddy please let me be the last person on your list. Having said that I wish to affirm that I have no hostility for you so please find a lovely pair of green tights enclosed for your own personal pleasure.

--E

((A pair of obviously women's tights is enclosed.))

[Inigo the Vain]

Dear Enoch,

I thank you for your kind present. Amparo is doing a delightful job of modelling them for me as I write this letter. They are most inspiring. Did you not have any lady friends who would accept such a generous gift from you?

Yours rapt in thought

Inigo

[unseen]

Dear Inigo,

My pleasure my most respected friend. I trust you will derive great pleasure and enjoyment from them. I'm sure many of my lady friends would have enjoyed them also but I thought it only right that I should give you a gift after making you cry.

Balance is restored and all is well now I have put a smile on your face.

--E

[Xelonir]

Dear Cain,

as promised I searched my library for a book on your newly acquired gift and was able to find at least some information in a book dealing with Necromancy in general.
That gift is called “Sight of the 6th eye” (please don’t ask me where your other eyes are, last time I saw you it seemed you only have two of them) and is not uncommon with advanced necromancers. Or used to be not uncommon in former times, and often awakened during a ritual that involved killing someone close to you.

The book also mentioned the other effect you experience: not seeing certain people die. This is described as occurring rarely, and in most of the cases it is indeed a psychological effect in the way I explained to you on the beach.

However, this book also mentions that in the rarest of these rare cases, this effect has a different origin, one of a much higher importance. Most people would tell you that the highest evolutionary stage of a necromancer is becoming a Lich, but the book says that actually becoming a Lich is the result of failure during that evolutionary process. If you manage to turn into the ultimate necromancer, you will be something different. Unfortunately the book does not deal with this in-depth but instead points to another book, which is not in my possession.

But I did remember reading the name of that book somewhere else and indeed it was mentioned in the diary of Secultrius the Witherer. He was once in the possession of this book, but according to his writing he lost it in the Fissure of Woe – he was quite angry about that.

So if you desire to find out more about that, we might have to do an expedition into the Fissure – a daring undertaking which will require some help from the guild, I would guess – and try to find that book.

Best regards,
Xelonir
_________________
GW1/GW2: Iria Apophis - Sanitas in Absentia [SiA] / Isla de Kuhba [IKuh]