Ar lath ma my ass!
shitgw2playerssay 1660320202

shitgw2playerssay:

To make up for the psychic damage we inflicted on the old school Guild Wars players yesterday and to celebrate 10 years of the best MMO out there… we’re gonna have a giveaway.

Stuff up for grabs:

  • Two 2000 Gem Codes (two winners)
  • 200 Gold (one winner)

How to Enter:

  • One reblog and one heart on this post will each count as an entry. Only one reblog will count per account.
  • We’ll stop taking entries at server reset on Thursday, August 18th. A random number generator will be used to choose winners.

Rules:

  • You must be following shitgw2playerssay. Yes, we will check.
  • Be sure to have your Inbox turned on so we can mail/message you. We’ll message you if you win.
  • You will have THREE DAYS from the time that we message you to respond or we will reroll and give your prize to someone else. If we can’t message you on Tumblr, we’ll reroll.
  • You must feel comfortable with giving us your in-game name in the event that you win the gold.
  • No giveaway blogs.
  • Please no death threats this time (lol).

XOXO,

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Originally posted by francisplaysguildwars2

antariies 1634329296
Visions of the Past: The Departing

antariies:

Summary: The Commander never told Braham about their first death at the hands of Balthazar. Years later, he finds out in the worst way possible.

Characters: Pact Commander, Braham, Aurene, Balthazar

Notes: Commander’s POV (2nd-person); set before Jormag Rising; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; 5.6k words, CW: blood, gore, character death, anxiety attack; the departing is and will always be one of my favorite instances and it sucks that we never got an emotional confrontation about it between braham and the commander. hope i did it justice. enjoy!

—

“Commander, can I use the Scrying Pool to view your memories?” Braham asks one day, apropos of nothing, sliding into the seat across from you.

You slam your glass of water back down onto the table with a loud smack, screwing your eyes shut and leaning forward as you choke on your drink. After a few seconds of intense coughing and waving away Braham’s apologies, you finally clear your throat enough to be able to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, squinting at him in confusion, “you want to… what?”

“Uh, use the Scrying Pool to view your memories?” he repeats, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Only with your permission, of course.”

“…Ah,” you nod slowly, letting the question fully sink in. You bring the glass of water to your lips again as you search for the right words. “That’s…”

A complete and total invasion of my privacy, your mind supplies helpfully.

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