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by on June 10, 2023 at 12:02 am
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reached into his coat and produced another.

“Wait—” FPS’s thin eyes somehow narrowed even further. “Is that, the letter Rakak sent to Rhin?”

“Yeah. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to borrow it.” He didn’t even look up. He was busy studying the letters. “Doubt Rhin’ll miss it, ya?”

“I—but, Miss Bandi, how did you—? I saw you give it back to him!”

“Did I? I’m pretty sure I handed him a napkin.”

It was a simple switch, a party trick at best. He still had a few napkins in his pocket from the cafe—he’d just handed that back instead of the letter. There’d been no intention to truly give it back the moment he’d laid his hands on it.

Astonished (and maybe even a little impressed?), FPS gave no real commentary on Tora’s party trick beyond a quiet “My word.”

“Well, friend, things’re ‘bout t’get real simple now.” He handed back the letters FPS found with a satisfied grin. “Writin’s the same. Y’know what that means?”

“The old boy’s alive! And he really did steal the amulet! This Rakak.” FPS’s eyes glimmered a moment, then narrowed again in thought. “…He is a boy, right? We’ve clarified that?”

“Yes, an old grumpy ass asuran boy,” Tora rolled his eyes. “And he either stole it or someone with his love for real loopy lookin’ writin’ did.”

A gasp. “A twist! Did they?!”

“No, fer fuck’s sake I’m jokin’” the thief grumbled. “Whatever. Point is, old boy didn’t leave a return address as Mr. R but he sure as fuck did as Rakak.”

He shoved Rakak’s letter in FPS’s face, his finger tapping the address left on it.

“Please tell me y’know what that means, yeah?” Tora was losing patience.

FPS closed his fingers gently around the letter, his thin eyes widening as he took in the address.

“We’re going to Metrica,” he said, awestruck.

The tree could be smart if he wanted to be.

Tora smiled, relieved. “We’re goin’ to Metrica.”

They were going to Metrica.

*

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by on June 24, 2023 at 12:57 am
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They set out in the early evening, and took the asura gate in Lion’s Arch to Rata Sum. FPS paid the gate fee, insisted on it even—rambling about chivalry to justify it. Tora didn’t fight it—he was already low on funds as is. He simply shrugged and waited as FPS doled out the few coins needed. The tree man then proceeded to flirt with the peacemakers watching the gate, started asking them whether they were boys or girls. Panicked, Tora shoved him through the gate before either offended peacemaker could shove him harder.

Neither of them really knew Metrica that well, and so understanding Rakak’s address was more of a challenge than anticipated. They managed to get a local postal worker to point them in the right direction at least, but it turned out Rakak’s place was out in the boonies, far away from any convenient waypoint or town. That meant travelling the hard way.

They took a waypoint out to the closest town they could get to, again on FPS’s dime. By then it was too late to go find someone to give them a ride out, so they found an inn and stayed the night. In separate rooms. FPS was a little too handsy for Tora’s liking.

The next day marked their journey out in earnest. They found a driver, rode out by wagon as far as their driver was willing and went the rest of the way by foot—into the jungle wilderness.

*

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by on June 24, 2023 at 1:01 am
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Metrica was too bloody close to Caledon. The thief felt it on the warm jungle air clinging to his clothes; saw it in the familiar foliage overhead. Being a completely different territory than his homeland meant very little when they both shared the same damn jungle.

It had been easier to ignore the similarities back in Rata Sum. Caledon didn’t have asura, didn’t have their fascinating technology or pyramid-like structures. He could focus on the foreignness of it all, and remind himself he wasn’t home.

There was no such luxury in the wilderness.

Snarling sylvari weeds lurked in shadows, bonfires crackled with the corpses of people he knew, undead and beasts threatened him from behind trees. His mind spun and his heart raced. He’d already escaped Caledon months ago, but his body wasn’t convinced.

A cheery hum broke his ruminating, and Tora spun to find the source in his peculiar new companion. FPS walked beside him with a boisterous smile, completely oblivious to the ghosts nipping at Tora’s heels.

Tora wasn’t sure whether to be comforted or annoyed. On the one hand, FPS was a great distraction. On the other hand though…

“Why hello there, sexy,” FPS cooed at a nearby tree.

That.

“That’s a tree, FPS.”

“…Is it a boy tree though? Or a girl tree?”

“Who knows? Could be both.” Tora sighed, exasperated.

“I’m not sure what to do with that information.”

“You can keep walking.”

A similar conversation would happen again in another five to ten minutes.

“Hey good looking.”

“That’s a bush, mate.”

“Is it a lady bush though? And would you say it’s hot?”

“I don’t even—”

And again later.

“So there’s no hot ladies out here?”

“No.”

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by on July 8, 2023 at 12:00 am
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At this, FPS puffed up his chest in preparation for a grande dramatic retelling.

“My lady of destiny!” He said with a flourish. “The Dream gifted me a great Wyld Hunt where I saw that I was destined—DESTINED!—to aid someone far greater than I!”

“…A hot lady?”

“A HOT LADY!” He stood up and posed heroically before the fire. “Powerful and noble and juste! And very very sexy! Destined to do greater things. And I shall die for her cause, a stepping stone for her on her way to greatness.”

“Right, okay, got it,” Tora gestured for him to stop then paused. ”—wait, die?!”

“Yes. My sacrifice will be most noble.”

“And ya have t’die for it?!”

“It was in my dream, so it must be.”

“And yer cool with that?!”

“Of course!” FPS sat back down. “It’s my Wyld Hunt! Wouldn’t you do the same for yours?”

Tora found himself frowning in spite of himself. FPS gave him a concerned look.

“Oh,” he said gently, “do you not have one?”

“Couldn’t tell ya.” The thief simply shrugged and turned away, settling back against the cave floor. He’d heard enough. “Dun remember my dream much.”

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by on July 8, 2023 at 12:02 am
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More lies. He remembered it perfectly fine. It just wasn’t all that exciting. Same dream as most everyone: Fight the dragons. Unlike most folks, he just didn’t really care about it.

He might’ve, in his youth, had he the luxury to get swept up in the romanticism of the Wyld Hunt. He hadn’t. Now he was older and its appeal had worn off entirely. He’d just escaped having to live for his father’s dream, and then Baya’s right after… what was the Wyld Hunt but just another dream he didn’t choose? And frankly, it was one he’d likely die pursuing—just another twig thrown as kindling into the furnace of war.

To die for a Wyld Hunt? Something you had no choice in? No, that didn’t make sense to Tora at all. Yet here was FPS saying he’d do just that. The damned idiot.

“It’s alright, you know. Not everyone has a Hunt,” FPS tried kindly.

Tora didn’t respond, choosing instead to seethe silently. Folks with Hunts always talked the same and they were impossible to argue with. Wyld Hunt this. Wyld Hunt that. Their entire life’s purpose was their Hunt. It was more than just some life goal, but a full on destiny—and you don’t argue destiny. In light of that, FPS’s “Lady” obsession made perfect sense. Perfect ridiculous sense.

“Why you may have a greater purpose yet, even if you don’t remember your dream, you know,” FPS continued. “You might even be the destined lady I’m looking for.”

“Sure, yeah,” Tora scoffed. He could think of a couple reasons why ‘destined lady with a fate for greater things’ was something he was not. “Just don’t fuckin’ die on me tomorrow.”

“Of course, m’lady.”

*

They found Rakak’s place the next afternoon, a long hike from the cave.

Turned out Rakak’s strange den was in the sky. If it wasn’t for a fallen sign that FPS tripped over, they would have missed it. They’d pried the offending plank of wood out of the dirt, righted it and found its simple but absurd message: ’Rakak’s’ and an arrow pointing directly up. They followed its lead and there it was—a giant floating rock in the sky.

Impossible.

Or so it felt, but there it was.

Tora had to force his eyes back to the ground, ignore the adrenaline starting to course through him.

It wasn’t the time to marvel.

What came next was finding a way in. They searched the dense jungle overgrowth in a small radius around where they found the sign. Judging by the fact he even left a

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by on July 22, 2023 at 12:00 am
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When the world returned, it took the shape of a cluster of massive stone pyramids staring them down from across a field of pavement: Rakak’s Lab. The thief and the elementalist stood as tiny dots before it, their feet planted on a teleport pad similar to the one they just left (but notably, better tended to). They, and the lab before them, stood upon two floating chunks of earth surrounded by nothing but blue sky.

It was surreal.

Tora fought the urge to look over the edge of the island, lost within two seconds, and gulped audibly once he did.

He couldn’t even see the ground.

“A long way to fall,” FPS remarked.

A long way indeed. Adrenaline beat past the vertigo until Tora found himself grinning. Now that they were steps away from their goal, there was no fighting it anymore: the floodgates opened and he could feel himself shaking with excitement. They’d gotten past the dull shit, and were moments away from getting to the good shit—the adventure shit! He’d been so preoccupied with rent, the ghosts of the past, and FPS that he’d nearly forgot why he picked up jobs like this to begin with.

They were gonna break into some massive lab—in the sky! How cool is that?!

This is what he lived for!

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by on July 22, 2023 at 12:02 am
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Tora swung around and made for the lab, with FPS making haste to follow him. The wind threatened to throw them both over but Tora barely noticed: he was busy getting a good look at the place.

Straight ahead was what looked like the main building, a massive pyramid with a closed stone door and an outdoor console. To their left was another slightly smaller pyramid branching off the main one. It had a wall missing, closed off by some sort of violet electric field. Wagon tracks on the tarmac led from the teleport pad to the open face of the second pyramid. Perhaps it was some kind of warehouse for deliveries.

A peek through the barrier proved it was. Boxes of supplies lined its walls. Already it seemed like a hot contender for where the amulet might be, but there wasn’t a clear way in. The thief checked the walls—no windows, just a sunroof which was also closed off by an electric barrier. He frowned, walked back to the main building, started prodding at the console setup in front of the main door.

FPS, for his part, watched Tora with uncharacteristic silence before announcing his intentions to search the walls. Tora simply nodded, absentmindedly. He didn’t even look up as FPS took the staff off his back, summoned a wind to rival the one already howling about them, and flew off. Tora was too busy trying to figure out this weird console thing.

The console showed a myriad of buttons atop a wide stone pedestal. He couldn’t read the labels: they were all in asuran script. Frowning, he took another look at the door. There wasn’t any manual door locks to be found. It was the console or nothing. Disappointing but not unexpected. He went back to the console, started pressing buttons.

“There’s no windows, I’m afraid,” FPS reported when he got back. “There is a sunroof, but it appears blocked.”

“Eh, it don’t matter. Even if it weren’t blocked, I ain’t got the tools fer that.”

The buttons weren’t doing shit.

“The tools…?”

“Yeah, y’know, rope? A harness? Sexy catsuit? Actually, I still don’t have a sexy catsuit. Really should fix that.”

Still nothing. If the big obvious buttons didn’t do jack, he’d have to go through all the smaller ones and pray.

“Do you… usually have those kinds of tools?”

“Sure.” This console had way too many buttons. He was tempted to just kick it.

 

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by on July 22, 2023 at 12:04 am
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“As a dog walker?”

Tora’s hand slipped and he pressed the full palm of it down on several buttons at once. It worked. A promising bloop sounded, followed by the materialization of a floating holographic monitor over the keys. It blinked four blank spaces, expecting input.

But he didn’t have time for that. He saw the man scrutinizing him—the wizened adventurer he’d seen so briefly at the cafe days ago—and felt his skeptical gaze pierce right through him.

“Uh, yeah, of course!” Lie, you dumb fuck, lie. “Got locked out of Bolli’s house a few times, y’know how it is.”

“Is that so…?” The adventurer didn’t look convinced. Was this really the same guy?

“Sunroof was the only way in,” Tora tried. Damn, but that serious look on his face made him nervous. “Y’know how asura like their sunroofs and I had to walk the dogs somehow so—”

The door slid open then with a hefty CHUNK, followed by irritated voices. In a panic, Tora yanked FPS over and shrouded the two of them in an invisibility spell. As a thief, Tora didn’t know a lot of magic but he did have a few tricks—tricks he’d probably have to explain. Shadow magic was the sort reserved for shady types, after all.

This would be so much easier if he was alone.

The two crouched behind the console, peering over the side to spot two asuras, one young and the other much older, idling in the entrance doorway. They were dressed in black and red uniforms: Inquest.

“We’re not seriously giving him more krewe are we?” Said the younger one.

“After what he did with the last krewe we gave him? Of course not. Don’t be daft.” Said the older, before leaning back into the building to shout. “Abbi, stop playing with the golems and hurry along! I want to get back before that monster, Bwott, steals all the good scones from the cafeteria again!”

A series of rushed footsteps echoed towards them. Abbi, Tora presumed, appeared at the doorway.

“Do you think he’ll get a promotion? Rakak.” She squeaked. She was also young.

“If he can deliver what he promised,” the older scoffed. “That’s for the higher ups to decide. If it were up to me, he’d have been kicked out of the Inquest long ago. Been a drain on our resources for years with no bloody results. Come along now, you two.”

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by on August 5, 2023 at 12:00 am
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The three started to waddle out of the entrance. This was their chance. With a firm grip on FPS’s arm, Tora made a mad dash for the door. They slid through. It was good timing: the door slammed shut seconds after and the shadow magic wore off seconds before. He let go of FPS as the door shut, and the man hit the floor with an emphatic thud.

Tora stepped over him into the room proper. It looked like a lobby of sorts. There wasn’t any sort of secretary to greet them however—no front desk—just a closed door to the left and right from where they stood, and a couple of massive monitors decorating the back wall. A closer inspection revealed one with a floor map and the other with what looked like work schedules. He couldn’t read them, everything but the numbers in the timetables was written in asuran script. Made both monitors kind’ve useless to him.

“This Rakak—he’s with Inquest,” FPS said in a considered serious tone. He’d gotten off the floor. A glance revealed him to look far more scuffed up than his dramatic posturing suited. With relief, the goofball had returned.

“Yeah, not surprising,” Tora dismissed. It hardly mattered if the guy was or not. They were here to get an amulet and get out. “Couldn’t they label these maps with New Krytan like everyone else?” He sighed.

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by on August 5, 2023 at 12:02 am
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“If Inquest are involved, this may be more serious than we think,” FPS insisted. “We should proceed with caution.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tora shrugged, backed away from the monitor, looked to the doors. “Or proceed this way.”

He walked up to the door leading in the same direction they’d found the warehouse. It was probably their best bet. There was a button beside the door. One quick press, and the door slid open.

A pack of golems vaguely shaped like dogs sat quietly on the other side of the door. They turned their stone heads at the sound of the door opening, stared with crystal eyes at the newfound leafy strangers on the other side. Their eyes turned red.

Tora shut the door.

“Oh my!” FPS exclaimed as the dog golems rammed against the door.

A cacophony of electronic voices yelling the word “BARK” replied to him. The door shuddered violently. A screw popped loose.

The two sylvari scrambled from the door, turned heel and booked it for the other as the dog golems broke through.

“BARK. BARK. BARK.”

One nipped Tora’s ankle as he slid through the door. FPS followed shortly after, shaking one off his sleeve.

“BARK. BARK. BARK—”

SLAM.

They shut the door, finding themselves in a stairwell. The dog golems started bashing the door. There was no time to deliberate—up the stairs they went.

“Miss Bandi?” FPS tried.

He ignored him. They reached the second floor just as the pack of golems broke through.

“Damn, they’re persistent,” Tora snarled under his breath. He was already slipping through the door to the second floor. FPS hesitated—stalled at the door.

“Miss Bandi, if I may—” he tried again.

“BARK. BARK. BARK.”

The damned stone mutts were already up the stairs.

“Is now the time?!” Tora yanked his dumb tree ass through the door and shut it.

They were in a hallway now, and already bolting down it.

“I don’t think we’ll lose them, Miss Bandi!”

“Yeah?! No shit!”

At this rate they were going to get caught before they’d even started this mission in

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