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16 posts in this topic

8, Season of the Colossus, 1328 AE - 5th October 2015 of the Gregorian.

 

The small, grizzled asuran scratched his head as he took a peek through the newsletters he received throughout his mindings and pokings with the information he had. Asurans never leave any stone unturned, and the news about the upcoming guild hall construction projects left him in a rather quizzical state about how the guild would be doing the building as a whole. They have not even decided on where they wanted to have it constructed yet! Heaving a sigh, the asuran thief walked around the makeshift office in First Haven, his desk littered with notes about misconducts – which oddly smelled like pork rinds, some notes about upscrating inots and the confusion about inots and ingots, along with a few notes written in various handwritings and various messages, but all of them were written in the same note:

 

“I blame you, Jeb! For…”

 

“What have I done this time…” Jeb said with a rather bemused grin. It was just another day in the very insane guild.

 

His grey digits stacked the notes in his hands and stowed them in his desk – ready to poke and prod for another day, as he stepped out from the office and right to the chaos and the clutter that is the Angry Army Guild. 

 

“Where is Toriko when you need him?” He said amusedly as the guild leader meandered around to stow the papers away – Jeb was always the de-facto leader of the guild, although he had a co-partner for the leading. He was sure that Toriko, the co-guild leader of the army of the angry, would appear soon enough. 

 

First Haven was their temporary home; a gathering place for all various beings of Tyria: small, minute asurans – large, strapping norns – humans of all color and variety – colorful sylvari who were still resisting the effects of Mordremoth, and the fierce and yet very wild charr. The ramparts were their lookouts; the small halls and barracks were their staging area and their living quarters, and although it was present, most of the guild members and the ranked members would be off and about doing their thing in Tyria: hunting Risen undeads, collecting materials and ingredients for the guild, crafting items, cooking food and the sorts. Some even ventured east to Dry Top and the Silverwastes for the promise of gold, loot and the chance to hunt down Mordremoth’s minions. Therefore the First Haven Barracks were mostly empty, save for a few Lionguards stationed there, as well as some merchants making their wares there.

 

Not today, though, obviously.

 

“Nothing like a crazy day in the guild.” Jeb said with a chuckle, to himself, as he rallied the guild members for a moment.

 

The guild leader of quite possibly the most insane guild in all of Tyria was surprisingly level headed for an asuran – although some say it was actually quite common. To him, he had told one guild officer about it when asked, where he simply answered: “Because I have to lead you crazy lots in guild missions, now do I?” True, he was supposed to be the guild leader of sorts with the craziest rabble in the land, but that does not necessarily mean that he was not one for games and being rowdy – as attested to one ‘drunken guy night’ that was infamously coined by another guild member, where Jeb dropped his magisterially duties and went crazy with the rest of the bunch.

 

As the leader went out to inform the rest of the guild members, at one corner, a rather large charr was standing in the middle of a small crowd of what seemed to be new guild members recruited by a guild officer - a rather tall, handsome looking human male with long hair and a dashing smile, who was going around telling the regular guild members and veterans alike to “please welcome them warmly, okay, guys?”

 

Treeps, the human male, decked in leather stealth gear, was all too keen on this, telling the members this again and again, as his ‘nice-guy’ persona was all he has. He wanted this to be one of the friendliest guild in Tyria and by letting the rest know about welcoming them in, he hoped that the guild would be warmly received. He had taken his time – and secretly, paid gold to Minister Caudecus; to send out flyers for recruitment in the process. He has to – he was one of the second in command in the guild and therefore he had to shoulder the responsibility.

 

“Guys, I’ve recruited some people to join our guild, so welcome them warmly okay?” The man was busy going around telling the guild members this.

 

“Welcome to hell!” One officer was heard yelling out to the group of new recruits, before quickly switching it to: “… I mean, the Angry Army!”

 

The charr gave a snort as he ignored the small whispers of the crowd in front of him as he began to read the piece of parchment that he was holding in his paws – oblivious to the small hushed whispers of:

 

“Why is he wearing a dress?” One recruit was saying quietly to the other.

 

“Isn’t that dress ten sizes too big for him?” Was heard from another recruit as he was talking.

 

“Poor dress… A female charr recruit was seen sighing. “There’s a hole in its butt for the tail.”

 

They do not know what significance the dress holds, the charr was thinking rather pompously to himself, as he stood there wearing what seemed to be a ripped piece of what seemed to be a very grand wedding dress. He stood there on a wooden barrel, reciting the infamous ‘Angry Army Credo’ that was to be the code of conduct for the guild, his voice foppish and pompous and grand – reciting the piece of parchment out loud with his rather fake accent that was totally not suited for a charr. They do not know the significance of a wedding dress on a charr, he proclaimed silently. Wedding dresses on a charr makes us sound grand and very foppish and fae-ish. The charr was pretty much ignoring the whispers and chatters of what happened last ‘drunken guy night’, as he was standing there looking proud and pretty ridiculous in the getup he was wearing. Over on the corner, some officers were already trying their best to hold their laughter in, while Treeps – as he was going around telling the rest to be friendly to them, looked at Demonbane in horror, as if he was trying to forget what happened that time. It was a memory he silently wanted so hard to forget: to no avail. The man with the good looking smile and the friendly demeanor shuffled along, doing his daily rounds of welcoming the guild recruits warmly.

 

“Rule number one.” Demonbane, the dress-wearing charr, read out loud, much to the chagrin of the newcomers. “Insanity required in order to join the army of angry.” He said, pausing for effect, before adding. “It is a strict, very strict requirement, ladies and gentlemen…”

 

“Who wrote this monstrosity?” One recruit whispered to the other, as the other pointed at one corner of the room.

 

“That thief right there.” She replied, pointing to a male thief.

 

“The one being chased by that small asuran?”

 

“Exactly the one.” She nodded.

 

“Why is he being chased?”

 

“The other wants him to die in a fire.”

 

“Ah…” He nodded. “So no wonder that asuran was shooting fireballs at him.

 

“DIE IN A FIRE, SENJU!!!”

 

The tiny asuran squeaked as her fingers arched and fires gathered in her palms, before it arched and blazed out to the intended target, a human male clad in black-and-gold, as he rather easily shadowstepped his way away from the floor and towards the ramparts.

 

“What did I do now?” He laughed, before coughing a little bit lightly. 

 

“Please don't die, Senju! Wait, what am I saying!? You put that in the credo just because!” The asuran replied crossly, and rather angrily as she shots another fireball, which he avoided.

 

“Well, Muzical, you had it coming.” Senju replied with a chuckle. “And besides, how can’t I? Guild Leader’s orders.” He added with a shrug of her shoulders.

 

His shoulderguards got burned by Muzical.

 

“DIE IN A FIRE!!!”

 

“You wish that to everyone, you know.” He pointed out, before avoiding another fireball – one that narrowly avoided a few crowds of veterans and officers who were talking to one another before Senju made his landing, and causing the group to be narrowly blazed by the elementalist’s fire spells. One person who was sniggering to himself about it, has had enough, as he looked at Muzical.

 

“That is it.” One asuran said with a huff. “That is it! I am out from here! Drunken guy night needs to happen without the fires!” He proclaimed, shaking a tiny finger at the female asura before turning around with a huff and walking away – leaving a path of flowers and roses in his wake as he was carrying a legendary weapon – Kudzu, the flowered longbow, that was crafted after weeks of hunting and crafting.

 

“You’re not sorry for ripping up my dress too, Shadow!” The female asuran said, pointing a small finger at him – as Shadow the asuran walked away with his full-tilt diva act out, chuckling with mirth.

 

“Hey, Tyler!” Senju said, as he shadowstepped back to a charr sitting in the group. “What I told you about Muzical’s tendency to be a tsundere?” He pointed.

 

The charr sighed and chuckled at the human as he flipped a page from the book he was studying, obviously being one very knowledgeable charr as he was busy studying the dungeons of Tyria. The guild veteran was pretty well versed about it, and was in-the-know about it, although the feline male was pretty much busy with other affairs that he had going on with the Durmand Priory and such. “Well, Senju. You did call her a robot mouse.”

 

“I am not a robot mouse!” Was the reply coming out from another corner as the asuran elementalist as she targeted another guild officer with the yells of “DIE IN A FIRE!!!” How she had heard that was anyone’s guess.

 

Shadow avoided another fireball that was targeted at him – along with another bunch of new recruits who scampered away at it as the human male and the male charr sat there. “It wasn’t my fault, it was Jeb.” The thief replied.

 

“We always blame Jeb for everything.” Tyler replied as the foppish voice of Demonbane recited the famous line.

 

“Blame everything on Jeb. When everything is right or wrong in Tyria, read rule number two, ladies and gents.” The large charr-in-a-dress was heard saying.

 

Just sitting a few steps away from the charr and the new recruits – listening to him bawl about the credo, a young woman was busy hammering her golden wrench on the floor repeatedly, muttering something along the lines of “Damn loads…” and “Load this piece of…” and “Xio, you can do this! Load!” The woman was then tackle-hugged by Muzical the asuran as she was whimpering in sadness.

 

“Xio! The guys are bullying me!” The small asuran moaned.

 

“It’s okay.” Xio replied. “At least you brighten the day with warm fuzziness and brightness in the guild.” She replied, causing the asuran to look up at Xio with glittery eyes, in awe at the words, as if she was telling Xio about how sweet that sounded.

 

Into which, at these words, Shadow, Senju, Tyler and Demonbane looked at Xio blankly as if what she was saying was not possible at all.

 

Xio shot them a look which quickly made all of them pretend to resume their duties.

 

“But hang on.” Xio said, as she puts the asura down, before resuming to knock the golden wrench on the floor again. “I got to make this work before we go out again!” She said, punctuating each word with a hit of her wrench on the floor. “And before we could break into a song again…”

 

Xio, another one of the female officers of the guild, was famous for her songs and her outlandish activities; one which included a rather legendary affair on how the guild members were facing a resurrected Tequatl the Sunless at Sparkfly Fen – one which included the participating members to down some quaggan tonic and surface from the beach as a quaggan and fighting alongside the armies of heroes. She was also famous for her guild karaoke sessions, which allowed her to own the legendary Golden Wrench that she pretended to be a microphone whenever she sang.

 

Unfortunately, the Wrench has a tendency to fail her whenever she wanted to join in with the rest.

 

As if on cue, Demonbane was heard singing a few bytes of song from a rather famous movie, into which a few seconds later the new recruits around him were ‘forced’ to sing as well.

 

“I feel pretty… So pretty… So pretty and witty and GAY!!!”

 

The officers at the sides were already laughing hard about this, before Senju again coughed incessantly – after having caught the virus from his last mission with the Orrian inquisition.

 

“Damnit Angry Army!” The asuran elementalist who was slinging fireballs and fire fields was heard shouting and pointing at the grandeur charr-in-a-dress. “This is why we can’t have nice dresses!”

 

One of the officers laughed at this, before quickly fleeing himself, and the rest of the group, away from the asura as she yelled in rage and in anger as she threw down more fires, still yelling “DIE IN A FIRE!!!” as the rest of the officers were seen laughing at the scene as if this was a regular thing that occured with the ranking members.

 

“By the way…” One recruit was heard whispering to another. “What is drunken guy night?”

 

At the mention of this, Treeps’ face turned white and his expression paled – as he slowly and stealthily walked away from the hall and away into hiding – while some of the new recruits eyed the Officer suspiciously.

 

“Well the thing is… There is a rumor about some of the guild members of the Angry Army. You see, people like” The other recruit said as he pointed his fingers at Demonbane – the charr reading the credo, Senju, Shadow – the asuran leaving a trail of flowers behind him as he walked away, and then to the guild leader himself. “Those people. Some say that you never want Senju, Demonbane, Shadow and Jeb in a group together.” He explained quietly. “Because the rumors around the beer kegs and the norn ales say that one night, the four of them conspired to sneak through the halls, steal Muzical’s favorite wedding dress and wear it around Lion’s Arch while drunk. Some say they were not even drunk and was completely sober and that some say that they let the charr wore the wedding dress.”

 

“Oh, so that’s why Demon…”

 

“Yup. And some say they dragged Treeps around Lion’s Arch against his will and forced him to wear the dress too.” The other said with a knowing nod.

 

At the words, the recruits watched as Treeps made his appearance again, as if on cue, listening to this and quickly shaking his head and looking rather suspiciously innocent; although the act was fully believable. “I don’t have any idea what you guys are talking about!” He was seen saying. “I have no memory of this… night, even happening guys. Please don’t ask me about it!” Before he made his way out from the concession, looking as if he had swallowed a face full of vile essences.

 

“I see.” The other nodded in understanding. “But I never thought that Jeb would be joining in on the craziness.”

 

“Well.” The recruit said proudly. “This is an insane guild.”

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8wYHH5x.jpg

 

There was alot about chaos and insanity

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My ranger is the violent one, thank you.  So I will regale you with what happened afterwards:

****

After the rest of the guild had stolen away for the weekly shenanigans, the asura elementalist snuck behind a few barrels and whispered, "They're gone."  At that moment, a random mouse became a norn mesmer, short by the standards of that race.

 

The asura handed back the staff, "I could get used to that..." and as soon as the staff left her hands, the illusion ended and where everyone had seen an elementalist, the ranger Bakka now stood.  "Maybe I'll look into the druid training I heard about after all."  She gave a mischievous cackle as she reached into her coat pocket, producing a bag of coin and a flask, "Payment for services rendered!"

 

The mesmer happily took the coin and alcohol with a maniacal giggle, "Silly little animal-lover threw fireballs!  Kosta liked it!!!"   At this point, if anyone had still been watching, it would have been obvious that this mesmer wasn't anywhere near the same continent as sane.  "Have fuuuuuuun!!!" she said in a sing-song parting, skipping away like a little girl, (so pretty much sounding like Senju's girlish giggle.)

 

"Oh, I will..." Bakka snickered as she ran to catch up to the rest of the guild.  She knew Emae would be ticked when she found out how her likeness had been used, "Well, that's what you get for letting them into the house, Emae..."  Which reminded her...she still needed to replace those destroyed outfits...  Bakka let out a sigh and picked up her running pace.

***

((Senju, you are somewhere between guild Sargent and unnatural disaster...  Though this kind of thing is why I created that thread looking for RP XD ))

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((Senju, you are somewhere between guild Sargent and unnatural disaster...  Though this kind of thing is why I created that thread looking for RP XD ))

Somewhere between guild sergeant and unnatural disaster...? Is that good? XD

 

I do this most of the time in the past. Still do ;)

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Somewhere between guild sergeant and unnatural disaster...? Is that good? XD

That's entirely up to you ;)

 

My mes above is based on an RP character of which Minuial is still terrified to this day :P

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Subtle references. Explicit references. Much creativity. Brilliant humor. Amazing job, Senju!  :lol:

Explicit in a couple of senses, even :P

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This was such a delight to read!!! Thanks Senju!!!

lol you're welcome Xio. Does this mean you want more? XDDD

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lol you're welcome Xio. Does this mean you want more? XDDD

I vote yes XD

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Yeeeesh Xio. Next you'll say I'm an avid writer

*Looks at your posting history just in the past month*  Why would we ever think that?  o.o

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12, Season of the Colossus, 1328 AE - 10th October 2015 of the Gregorian

 

The redhead ruffled her head at the papers on her desk as she reached her small room at the cold and rather clammy stone walls of Twinspur Haven, after using the waypoint from the Fields of Ascalon. In a sense, she was pretty thankful that the asurans had discovered, invented and simplified them in the first place – because if they did not, she would have to take quite a long trek from Ascalon to Kryta and that would be time consuming. Knowing her, as much as she was pretty much reckless and gung-ho all the time, she wanted to limit and manage her time responsibly – amidst how her boss always tells her that she was so bad at being responsible.
 
“Well, I’m being responsible now, Boss Senju…” Aela groaned to herself, flipping her papers of notes on her research on the dungeons across Tyria.
 
Granted, the latest responsibility that she was shouldered with was pretty much varied in its difficulty, but the redhead thief was pretty much ready to do it – with the help of a few guild members of course. The asuran partner she had was busy mapping out Metrica Province, while the norn guardian and the charr warrior was more interested in dueling each other and seeing who drinks more ale and beer for the night than most. As for Varen and Venn, well… they were preoccupied with the dealings in Kryta and at Divinity’s Reach, leaving Aela and Hawke to do the heavy lifting for the team. 
 
Amrynn was pretty much secluding herself while preparing her mind and her body for the huge duel with the influences of Mordremoth.
 
The redhead flipped through the papers as she pulled off her shoulderguards – a gift from the Vigil Headquarters after a rather odd proposition of a duel from one of the Warmasters there, as her eyes pulled on to one parchment. Frowning to herself, she reads it again and again, frowning again with every read.
 
“We await Lord AngryJoe’s return.”
 
“Who sent me this…?” Aela said to herself, setting down the rest of the papers and read the note again, sitting herself down on a chair overlooking the small crevice that was supposed to be the window to the outskirts of Wayfarers’ Foothills. The cold wind and the light snowfalls were a common occurrence, aside from the Sons of Svanir being a common nuisance – causing roadblocks and threatening merchants to and fro along the roads. 
 
“Lord AngryJoe?” She read, repeating the words again, as she chuckled to herself. 
 
Aela sighed as she placed the letter on the table with the rest of the papers she has and leaned in to the chair. “Well…” She chuckled. “If he comes back, would he battle Mordremoth?” She said to herself, as she lets out another sigh. “Ah well. The Angry Army goes on.”
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