Branwen of the Priory ( Short Story/Outfit )

Warning: Very long short story ahead.

Branwen looked over the balcony of Dreamer's Terrace as she packed her bag. Four months had passed learning the finer points of elemental magic under her mentor, but she already was bored of the Grove. There was no challenge here. No new places to explore. Except... For Order's Terrance. That was where she was heading today.
Walking down the terrace, she was a bit intimidated. The place was alive with activity. Whispers agents raced back and forth holding important documents. Priory members stood about, conversing about this or that. Vigil soldiers were congregating around a training area, slashing away at scarecrows.
She was brought back from the Dream by a busy Priory researcher ramming into her.
Scrolls flew onto the floor and Branwen and the researcher fell to the ground. Looking up, Branwen saw that the researcher was another sylvari.
"Brambles!" The other sylvari said, "My Magister is going to burn me alive!"
Branwen's eyes were glazed from dizziness. "Pardon?"
"Help me pick these up! Quick!"
Branwen dazily helped the researcher gather her things, and the researcher sighed in relief.
"I have to get these to my superior but they're too much to carry.... Help me out?"
"Uh...Sure?"
The researcher wasted no time in grabbing Branwen's wrist and dragging her, arms still full of scrolls, into the Durmand Posting.
"What exactly are these papers about?"
"It's Priory business. I can't tell you."
The two rushed into a tent. A charr in the corner rushed up and seized the papers from Branwen's arms, then dropped them onto a desk. The researcher rushed forward, leaving Branwen dazed by the tent entrance.
"It's from Derelict Delve, arrived a few hours ago from the asura gate..."
"Wasted no time, did you scholar?" The charr looked back at Branwen and growled. "And why did you bring this twig here?!"
"Convenience. Come on, Magister, this is urgent. You would have thought the messenger had walked through a... er... flame imperator!"
"You're using that term wrong, kindling. Now shut up and brief me."
The two feverishly whispered over the papers for a while, and then the charr slammed his fist down on the table.
"Burn me! I don't have enough explorers for this! Tell your messenger to get another team."
"There's no time! That place is packed full of destroyers, you and I just read that-"
"And a team of experienced explorers can handle themselves for a few more hours without my team babysitting them. Now, I said TELL your messenger to get another team."
"But-" The researcher sighed. "Yes, Magister."
"Good. Now get this little weed out of my office."
The researcher moodily walked out of the tent with Branwen, who caught a glimpse of the charr throwing the scrolls in a bin full of similar documents as they left. The researcher mumbled under her breath.
"Too bad he can't return the message since he's been incapacitated by destroyers..." She jumped. "Oh! I forgot... Sorry for dragging you in there. Bit of a heat of the moment thing, you know."
"I do. What's Derelict Delve?"
"An ancient dwarven ruin in Elona. Can't say more than that."
"Hm. What if I joined the Durmand Priory? I could lend support."
"It doesn't quite work like that... If you want to join the Priory though... I certainly can help with that."
~ One week later ~
Branwen jogged through the snow. Checking her map, she saw that she only had a mile to go to the Priory headquarters. Great bit of a comfort that was, as the snow only got worse from here on out. Or at least, that's what the strange Norn in that one lodge a few miles back had said.. through all the slurring.
The trail was covered in pockmarks and scorches from past grawl ambushes. Thankfully, she had scared them off earlier by turning their friend into an icicle and kicking him off the giant chasm to the right of the path. She shuddered to think how deep it was. She now pitied that wretched fleabag. She pondered what the grawl around the area did in their spare time to pass hers.
Eventually, the grueling snow relented, and the magnificent Durmand Priory came into view. A giant stone fortress, carved into the face of a giant mountain, with torches like eyes overlooking a giant valley of ice.
The inside was even more spectacular. Branwen was in awe as she walked down the main hallway. She had never seen anything as amazing and breathtaking as this in the Grove, or even in her Dream! Books flew through the air on magic, and warm lights floated lazily above. Branwen had to draw her mind back to the task at hand: Get to the Armor Requisitioner.

"Let's see here... Branwen? Are you an elementalist?"
"That's right."
"I got a uniform for you right here. Report to Steward Gixx to get your first assignment. Your rank is Novice."
"Er... Thank you."
"Get moving."
Branwen walked down the hallway to Steward Gixx's office, her new shoes clacking on the stone floor. She opened the heavy door, and a sharp, nasally voice greeted her.
"What do you nee- Oh. Novice. Come in."
In the middle of the roomy office there was a massive desk. And behind the massive desk was a very short, very irritated asura.
"You're actually on time. Good. No one seems to respect my time... Especially not novices. Now... what did you need?"
"My first assignment?"
"Ah, yes. That. Well, we desperately need researchers and explorers in Elona at the moment. It's a treasure chest of knowledge, and we just acquired the key. Lots of conflict in the area, dragon activity, but that's not a problem, is it?"
"I wouldn't know-"
"Good! Now, we have many men in Elona right now, but we have one major camp in the Desert Highlands. Derelict Delve. It's a massive, ancient dwarven complex. Do you know it? Ah, it doesn't matter."
"D-Derelict Delve? Isn't that camp under attack by Destroyers?"
"Pah, it's not under attack. We have a team that's been having a bit of difficulty deep in the tunnels, but nothing major."
"Aren't they trapped?"
"No, they're simply holed in- Wait, how did you know that?"
"I, er, helped out a tiny bit delivering the documents regarding that..?"
"Glitch! Damn weeds, they never pay any attention to regulations. Too stuck in their own 'Dreams'. Nevermind that, I'll deal with it later. So, do you accept the Derelict Delve assignment?"
"I suppose so..."
"Good! The airship for Elona leaves tomorrow. Prepare your things. Oh, and on your way out remind Historian Tribb that I need his report on the jotun situation in the Dredgehaunt Cliffs."
~ The next day ~
Derelict Delve wasn't much warmer than the Shiverpeaks. Except here, it wasn't just cold, it was hard to breathe. The air was thinner here, and the combination made Branwen exhausted.
The researchers in the camp were equally exhausted, but the bounty-hunters seemed to be energized. Perhaps it was simply the adrenaline of 'The Hunt', as the norn here put it. They didn't seem to be too happy about their post.
Branwen was rereading her briefing when she heard her name called.
"Novice Branwen! Over here, please."
A short male human stood by the entrance of the dwaven complex, looking concerned.
Branwen walked over to him.
"What is it?"
"Can you check on the team in the central chamber? They haven't sent up anyone in a while. I'm starting to get worried. We haven't been able to send a party down, but could you sneak down and check on them?"
"Maybe... Why haven't you been able to send a party down?"
"Destroyers notice them immediately. No one's been hurt, but the higher ups won't let us send anyone else down. But you're a novice, so-"
Branwen raised her voice. "So I'm disposable?"
"No! You're- er, less busy than the explorers. Come one, please. I'm worried for Shauna, she's the expedition leader and we've... known each other for a long time. Please, just try to get to the central chamber. One person won't be noticed."
"Hmph. Fine."
Branwen retrieved her staff and gathered herself as she descended into the catacombs- er, complex. The cold was chased away by a wave of heat. The tunnels were like a giant oven, and Branwen felt like a roasted chicken. Perhaps she soon would be... She crossed an ancient bridge, and Branwen gasped. The bottom levels of the complex had been swallowed by a sea of lava. Destroyer crabs crawled up the walls. Flaming, soulless constructs of fiery death swarmed around the complex like insects.
"Sweet Mother..."
Branwen swallowed and removed her shoes as to quiet the clacking of her heels. The stone was warm, but not hot enough to burn her feet. The sylvari sidled along a ledge towards the open central chamber. All was well, she had her footing, and-
CRACK
The stone broke under her weight, and Branwen toppled backward with a cry. Her stomach dropped, and she fell down, down, down...

Branwen awoke to the soft lapping of water on her face. She sat up, and saw stars, stars all about her. They flew through the air like birds and twinkled upon the ceiling. Was this where you went when you died? It was wonderful...
The sylvari realized she was sitting upon a sunken staircase in a starry lake. She rose to her feet and climbed the stairs. As she was climbing, she stubbed her toe, hard, on something in the darkness.
"Brambles!", She cursed. She looked down to see what the object was, and she gasped.
It was an ancient dwarven staff, preserved through the ages in the hand of a smashed stone dwarf. Branwen picked it up, and instantly felt the ancient magic warm flow through her fingers and her hair, manifesting as lightning crackling around her wrists. She decided to test it. Giant, swirling flames erupted from the ground beneath her feet, channeled by the ancient dwarven staff. Twinkling shards of ice flew from her fingers into the flames, creating enchanted clouds of mist.
Branwen was in awe. Her dusty old branch was nothing compared to this. Now she understood why the Priory was so obsessed with these dwarven ruins: This magic was extremely complex. It seemed to almost be alive.
"You don't want to languish in this cavern, do you?" Branwen whispered to the staff, "Just like I didn't want to languish in the Grove."
The staff seemed to respond, gaining a slight glow and warming her hands for a brief moment.
"Come with me, I'll get us out of here."

~ Three months later. ~

Branwen, once again, opened the heavy door to Gixx's office. And, again, she was met by the same nasally voice.
"Ah, good Novice, back from your assignment- What's that on your back?"
"This? It's my staff."
"That isn't just a staff, it's dwarven!" Gixx suddenly became furious. "H-Have you been USING it?!"
"What's wrong with that? It seems to want to be used."
"It's a weapon! It doesn't want anything! Urgh, twigs... Impossible to deal with. Fine, you know what, sylvari? You want to study dwarven magic? Go ahead. Just be careful not to unleash destroyers or elemental upon the Priory, understood?"
"Understood," Branwen said, hardly masking her glee.




So, I was inspired by the old ANet short story blog posts. You know, where they wrote a short story with screenshots interjected here and there. Then I found myself a Seer's Coat skin and the Staff of the Lost, and everything else just fell into place. I honestly focused far more on the story than the outfit, if you will forgive me. I still am quite pleased with how everything turned out.