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[GW2 Fashion]Masks and purple-scaled Dragons

This article is over 11 years old and may contain outdated information

This is Leukothea, a human elementalist searching for a mysterious mask which countless others have searched before her. But will the mysterious thief she meets help her or lead her into a dangerous trap? Find out below, but first!

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The Outfit

The outfit consists of:

-Jatoro’s mask

-Light Mortal Grab of Grenth

-Conjurer’s Gloves of the Dolyak

– Masqureade Leggings

-Feathered Boots

Dyes

The used dyes are as following:
-Honeybutter
-Blood
-Heirloom
-Midnight Ice

The Story

Leukothea walked into the Crow’s Nest Tavern and searched the room that laid before her. The normally full tavern was empty, expect for a bartender and a lone figure. The dark clad person sat at a table, staring through the window glass into the silent city. Leukothea headed through the empty tables and chairs to the individual and sat directly across from him.

“You’re a hard man to find, Mister Arendall.” she said briskly and broke the silence which had inhabited the tavern until now. Said person turned his head toward her as if he had only noticed her now. “The Hero of Sheamoor! How graced I must be to have someone like you visit me. Tell me, what does a prestigious elementalist as you have to do with someone like me? “ She ignored his jabs and answered: “They say you know where the Mask of Jatoro is .”

”Cutting right to the chase, are we?”, the thief asked with raised eyebrows. After he didn’t receive a reply, he shrugged and just said: “And what if I do? You know that I’m not someone who just gives away Information for free?”

“Mr. Arendall-” “Just call me Daron.” He interrupted. Leukothea began to say something, but stopped when she smelled a mixture of alcohol and leaves. The sylvari bartender put two flasks of Blood Whiskey on the table and vanished back behind the bar. “I have taken the liberty of ordering Blood Whiskey, I hope you like it.” Daron said, and Leukothea murmured a faint “Thank you”, but ignored the flask next to her and continued.

“Daron. I’m willing to give you Spark for it”, the elemantalist said. “They say you’re searching for it.”

“Oh, is that what they’re saying?” Daron answered in a carefully controlled voice, but Leukothea could see his body leaning forward and sensed the gears turning in his head. They stared unblinkingly at each other for a few moments. Finally Daron blinked and admitted: “The mask is at the Destoev Sky Peak in the Dredgehaunt Cliffs. I will show you where it’s supposed to be, but I won’t help you getting the mask. Meet me tomorrow at dawn at the Grey Road Wayroad.

But be prepared: It seems like something is protecting it. Everyone who accompanied me ran away screaming as if Dhuum was trying to claw their souls from their bodies. “

“I’m not afraid.” Leukothea said simply, but Daron could see her eyes shining with determination. “Of course. But why are you so set on getting this mask? Surely you don’t believe the legends saying that you can determine lies from truth when you wear it?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” she responded while standing up, her tone sharp as a knife.

“Geez, I was only asking.” the thief said, only to realize that she was already gone.

Daron shuddered when appeared in the Dredgehaunt Cliffs. The transition from Lions Arch to the freezing realm of the Norn was a part he always hated when he had to come here. Still cursing under his breath, he stomped over to Leukothea. The elementalist had in wise foresight changed her clothes for ones which were more suitable for the cold. “What now?” she asked him after he reached her. “What? No Greeting? Like ‘Hello, how are you’?” he asked, and Leukothea mumbled something that might have resembled a Hello. Daron rolled his eyes and motioned for her to follow him as he went into the cave. He pointed to a small opening. “Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, it’s an ancient dwarven tomb. It contained an imp lord, which was killed by some adventures.” She answered, sounding like she rattled off a line from a book. “Exactly. And of course everyone went to the treasure chest so conveniently placed in the middle of the room, but they completely ignored the wall…” He trailed off, and nodded his head at the wall. Leukothea walked to it and cautiously placed her hand on the wall, only for her hand to just pass through the wall.

She stumbled back and turned to Daron, a surprised expressions showing on her face. “What, you thought I was lying? How could you!” he pouted. “But… what… there should be some people who discovered this..?” “They came back screaming form the top of their lungs. But when a small group led by Ellen Kiel came here to see what’s going on, the wall was solid again. Seems like you need special … requirements to enter here.” Or someone is controlling it… Leukothea thought, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. Of course it could be a trap… She could go in there, Daron could trap her in there and a bandit horde or something like that could ambush her and take the Precursor… But what other option did she have? She searched for so long, she couldn’t give up like this. She faced the wall again, took a deep breath and stepped through it.

The first thing she noticed was the darkness, which suddenly dropped over her like a blanket. The flames of the book she carried around didn’t help much in illuminating the darkness, nor did they help in fending off the cold. Even though she was attuned to fire, she could feel the cold steal the warmth of her and making her breath appear in small clouds in front of her. Not only that, this cave also inhabited a weird smell. A smell of … alcohol and leaves? Just where had she smelled that before?

She couldn’t continue that thought because suddenly a loud roar resounded through the cave. She instinctively dove to the left and just inches from where she was standing a purple beam illuminated the cave, shattering rocks in the process.

For a second, she saw a purple leg with glittering scales on it, before everything was plunged into darkness again. Her eyes widened. What was a dragon doing here? Said dragon swiped down with his claw, but the elementalist avoided it by rolling backwards, leaving a trail of fire in her path. The flames allowed her to see a few rocks nearby, which she quickly hid behind. Her mind was reeling. She had never heard of a purple dragon before. She knew that she should probably go back and report the dragon the the orders, but that would mean long investigations and she probably wouldn’t be able to obtain the mask of Jatoro. And she didn’t want to see the smug face of Daron when she came back with empty hands. That meant she had to fight the dragon alone. While it wasn’t very tall, maybe 15 feet, she knew better than underestimating it. Even so, she had fought countless enemy’s more fear inducing, Zhaitan included. Granted, she wasn’t alone then, but what other choice did she have right now?

Leukothea took a deep breath to collect herself and then emerged from the shelter of the rocks, throwing a fireball where she estimated the dragon was, and prepared her next attack, when the fireball hit the dragon and suddenly shattered into tiny fragments. The pieces hung in the air for a moment and Leukothea could see her surprised expression staring back at her a hundredfold, before the fragments cascaded onto the ground and vanished. She heard someone clapping and turned to see Daron standing there, and next to him was-

“The Sylvari bartender?” Leukothea asked, completely baffled. “Sorry, but after seeing your determined expression, Riful and I wanted to see how far you would go for the mask, so she created this illusion. That you would even face a dragon for it… You truly have earned it.” Daron said, giving her the Mask he had hidden behind his back. The Elementalist carefully took the mask and looked at it with an unreadable expression on her face. “So the legends are true then? We tried to find out if they were right, but nothing we did turned up any results. It seems to be just an ordinary mask…” Riful said, her voice laced with thinly disguised curiosity.

“No , they are not true.” Leukothea said in a soft voice. “It’s just an ordinary mask. For others, anyway. But to me, this mask holds a special meaning. It belonged to my father, he and my mother were killed in a bandit attack, and the village, and the house my parents lived in, was burned to the ground. The only remaining thing was the mask they took , probably as a trophy. I avenged my parents, but the mask was nowhere to be found – until now. Why so many legends arose around it is unknown to me.”

“So you pursued it, because it’s the only thing you have left from your parents…” Daron murmured in a thoughtful voice. Leukotheas head snapped up, having forgotten that he was standing next to Riful.
“Oh yes, you probably want your reward-”

“No,.” Daron waved dismissively. “Like I said, you’ve already earned it. Besides, do you know how much ale this story will earn me? The young hero of Shaemoor, facing 3 dragons at once-”

“3 Dragons?” Leukothea repeated in a shocked voice, eyes wide as saucers.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Daron agreed and grinned. “4 Dragons sounds better.”


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