#priyahe

[charred-meat]

how to PvP with friends :

step one : play already similar charr

step two : put on same outfit / change hair to be the same

step three : use same weapon skins

step four : ??????

step five : profit

( ft. @thewaronalley​ and her character Priyahe aka Reed’s best bud )

[thewaronalley]

Also: A gw2 themed sketch dump

[thewaronalley]

some random sketches >w@

whispers squad is...: cali, reed @charred-meat, rycerhun @guild-snail, pennwood @saladwars, and darl @nornkin. hool will join in one day ahhhh

[thewaronalley]

“I hunt dragons so those I love do not have to.”

--Priyahe || Charr DH

[thewaronalley]

Warmaster Priyahe Oathwarden.

[thewaronalley]

30 Day Guildwars Challenge, Day 01:

Your first character. Priyahe/Guardian/Charr

Though her full title is something along the lines of “Commander-Warmaster Priyahe Oathwarden”, most people will refer to her simply as “Pri”. Priyahe started out as a Gladium, following the charr personal story, and though she continues to technically be a Gladium today, she is not without a Warband. Although it is constructed out of entirely sylvari, stray asura, adopted humans, with a sprinkling of friendly norns, it is her ‘band, and she loves them. Priyahe recently took the last name “Oathwarden” after the last Mordremoth attack, in honor of Vonn Stormwarden, a fallen comrade and as close to her, as if he were her son. She has made a solemn vow to find a way to fight the mordrem scourge, even if that means facing the sylvari she has become close to, and being left with no choice but to cut them down. The Dragon has taken more than her adopted son, he took many of her ‘band, and more of he Pact.

[thewaronalley]

LIVING STORY SPOILERS IN THIS WRITING

Priyahe stared at the ground in utter disbelief. Rahjj was pulling her claw to leave, desperately yelling Priyahe to snap out of it, and how they needed to leave. Their airship had not yet gone down, but it was about to. Sylvari all around them were going berserk with eyes alit with a scarlet red. She had tried to restrain them, she had a haunch from the begining that perhaps they were not as they seemed, but it wasn’t enough. Her head shook and she lifted Rahjj to her shoulder before lifting her staff, signalling and yelling to,” Retreat!” The remaining crew liatened, backing off from the sylvari and making their way to the forward bow.

Crafty looked over Pri’s shoulder as she ran, hurridly ushering the survivors to safety, fending off crazed salads where she could. He remembered begging to be placed on the same ship as his adoped family, and now… He didn’t regret it, but the situation was dire. If he were anywhere else, he would have longed to be here, although here, here was a nightmare. Crafty climbed over Pri’s shoulder, away from the safety of her armor. He was greeted with fire balls, and one immediately took a glancing blow off his shoulder. He faltered, stumbling to his knee, but keeping his footing on the charr’s shoulder. He held his shoulder and looked at his attacker, grimacing at the thought of what he had to do.

"What are you doing?!" Priyahe yelled, her voice strained from shouting orders and magic,” Do not engage, Rahjj!” She turned her head as best she could, her red eyes wide. The last of the surviving crew had made it to the forward bow and were dispersing to the aide railings where the life boats were. They were almost out, almost everyone could live, for once. They were so close—

"It’s imperative that I do engage. By the cogs of creation, I will snap her back. The eternal alchemy demands what is done has a chance to be undone." Crafty forced a smile at Pri’s turned eye before he disappeared. As he left, Priyahe roared in anguish, frusteration. The many came before the few, this was something Crafty had always understood. As her tail disapeared, leaving a wall of light at the entrance, he knew he had made his choice. Under a cloak of stealth, he manuevered around the beserk sylvari until he settled unto his target. He gripped his dagger hard, his brow furrowed as he looked to thr ground. He had always promised to protect her, he had always promised to never lie to Pri. He was breaking both of those promises. Raielde was the only sylvari elementalist aboard the ship. If she were put down, the rest would follow easily, and the danger of the evacuees dealing with storms of all the different elements, would no longer be a threat. He wished he had said more to Tilulla before he left just a few words more.

Most of the lifeboats were filled when Priyahe’s wall of light failed. However, none had exited the inside of the ship. As the last left, Priyahe dared to pick around the bodies of fallen comrades, sylvari and other races alike, to look inside. Priyahe knew a lie when she heard one. Coated on the inside of the ship was a mixture of poison and sap. Crafty’s red and gold robes were unmistakable near the corner. His radiation field was wearing off in another section of the room, and holes were torn in the floor from cluster bombs. Priyahe choked, holding a claw to her mouth, and falling to one knee. “There are no gods”, She stood, her eyes narrowed,” there is only pain.” Her teeth clenched, as she drew her great sword,” And those willing to end it..!”

As Pri flew at Raielde, Crafty had a few moments to recover. His experience with ascalonian ghosts had imparted him the ability to deal with many foes at once. His multiple areas of effect and his short bow made quick work of the first batch, but the rest were not as easily downed. His daggers flew and caltrops spread, he kited until one was left, weakened by poison and arrow. She still had the ability to burst him down. He held his head, pulling his hood down as the mask of it was filled with blood. He spluttered and coughed holding his abdomen, if Argyl were here, he would scold him on his poor dodging. He missed his mentor. Crafty’s eyes closed.

The last remaining sylvari on the ship only withstood a few blows from Priyahe’s great sword before her eyes dimmed and she fell. Raielde collapsed on the ground, her now black and red leaves almost slipping through a hole. Priyahe shook her head, sheathing the greatsword to her back and kneeling to pick Rahjj up. He was cogneseint enough to hack,” Thanks mom.” Before he passed out. He fit easily in the cradle of her claw. She looked back, scanning over the dead sylvari crew she used to know, and then down to Raielde. Her petalhead. She was alive, as Priyahe could not take the killing blow. Her teeth bared in frusteration and grief. Tears held back through sheer force of will. Priyahe picked up Raielde, holding the sylvari on her shoulder.

If she took her to the Priory maybe they could do something about this…infection. Yes, it had to be an infection. There had to be a way to dispell it. As she boarded the last lifeboat, it was quite clear the Pact had lost this battle. Perhaps even lost this war. Ships crashed into the jungle all arpund them, and the vines were tearing this one apart. Without word, Priyahe placed her adopted children in the seats and sailed the mini air boat away. Unsure of what to do in the wreckage, but knowing her only option was what was left of the Priory. So she headed to the nearest waypoint, and left.

Wayfarer foothills was home of few priory members who were not stationed in the silverwastes. Twiliah was among them, and one of Priyahe’s oldest colleagues. She tended to Rahjj first, ordering the scholar that was temporarily acting as her assistant to put the plant in qurantine. Feros obliged, giving a sympathetic look to his mentor as she exchanged Raielde with him. Priyahe looked down, exchanging a few short words with Twiliah, quiet conversation of the debriefing nature. The magister nodded, wrapping up the rest of Rahjj’s wounds, and then taking his Order hood off. Priyahe closed her eyes, her arms folded behind her back as she waited.

"Is Ateyla around?" Twiliah lifted her head as the question was asked,” No. And by the prognostics we should be glad for this development. We do not need berserk mordremoth colleagues. “

Priyahe grimaced,” Surely some sylvari could be safe—so far away from the influence—….”

The magister squinted, tilting her head,” Warmaster, surely you know “fire leaves little behind”? Our safety measures assume they have all turned. Especially with what you have described as a mass rebellion at a crucial point in the war. We should assume they work as Zhatain’s minions do, whatever they know, it knows. “

Priyahe let out a low, soft growl of frusteration. She turned away, her claws clenched,” please keep me up to date on any progress you make, Magister.”

Twiliah nodded, and Priyahe disappeared down the halls. Undoubtedly on her way back to the Silverwastes. The asura turned to her assistant as she finished patching up her brother,” What cell?”

"A-3."

"Excelsior. We will observe and examine when she is awake. For now, please place the Lightbringer on a spare bed, he is taking up room space."

Feros nodded, lifting up Rahjj and carrying him away. Twiliah stood alone in the underground of the Priory, her index claws tapping together. A fully turned Mordremoth Sylvari. A specimen of that kind would be useful to study. Though her expertise was really only life, death, and plague. Sylvari certainly fell under her study parameters, but she needed an expert. Rahjj’s krewe leader happened to be one. One Magister Klivvik, though her whereabouts were unknown. Regardless, her assistance would be needed before she moved forward with her experiments.

A mordemoth sylvari had to have some very interesting biology.

[thewaronalley]

Priyahe was once apart of the Soul warband. It consisted of nine members, all who had some form of title. Braii the Smouldering, Priyahe the Pillar, Tactia the Allusive, the list goes on. When her band mates perished and Priyahe survived, she fell into deep depression. Pri spent this time in her young days cooped up in the citadel, salvaging. Though her Primus pulled her from her spiral and sent her to join the vigil. Priyahe flourished there, as a good soldier would. Apprenticed under a norn warmaster, Priyahe learned slowly of their culture of remembrance. This was her first step out of the pit. Priyahe spent a fair time studying the pinnacles of norn society, though most notably their idea of legends. Her mentor taught her much, and slowly Priyahe recovered from her tragic loss. Speaking with the norns made her feel like her bandmates still were at her side, because she would carry their legends high. And so, after months of being steeped into the norn’s passion for remembering, Priyahe tenatively asked her mentor to carve into her horns eight specific runes.

Today, Priyahe’s horns are carved with eight norn runes, in honor of her eight fallen bandmates. Proudly displayed, for their legend lives on.