User:Kamilla/Kamilla Illusonist
My story[edit]
I always loved my birthplace. Ashford. It was so idyllic, so quiet and so peaceful. There was a small Abbey just next to the village, where a young monk, named Mhenlo gave services regularly. I liked him very much. He was like the country itself: tranquil and quiet. Though I was very young of age at the time, I still remember the last Guild Wars very well. My father was a great warrior, served in the Vanquard, but when the time came, he took his weapons, called his black bear and went into battle, promising me to come back very soon. I never saw him again.
Once a week we visited the capital, the City of Ascalon, where our prince, Rurik and her beautiful fiancée, lady Althea resided. I always wanted to be like her, so elegant, so attractive and so brave. Thus it was natural for me to choose to become a mesmer when I was old enough to be able to enlist into the lines of the Vanquard. My drilling turned out to be very short; the charr had become increasingly hostile and started to present an even grater threat to our people and destroying several colonies they pushed forward to the Great Northern Wall, that served our very last defensive line against those beasts. Therefore all recruits had to enter the Academy immediately.
Two long years of constant drilling and service came in all the military outposts scattered in the country and along the Great Wall. Then the charr finally managed to find a way to bring down our last bastion: they called forward a terrible firestorm that destroyed all of the once beautiful country of Ascalon, decimating and humiliating its people.
The place I once called home had been washed away, no more than mere ashes and sand left of the erstwhile tranquil village of Ashford. My family vanished, lost in the cataclysm, not even their dead bodies could be found anywhere around. I was mourning my mother and my twin sister, who having served her time in the lines of the Vanguard as a ranger and had just returned home before leaving for a long diplomatical journey to the East. I felt like I had a deep hole in my heart, a wound never to be healed until my thirst for blood would be satisfied by killing as many of the cruel murderers as possible. And there, kneeling before the hole that marked the house I once lived, I promised that the charr will pay for the blood they had spilled.
And I keep myself to my pledge ever since…
