Round Robin: Rise of The Eclipse

Jasonmrc · **Posted:** February 7th, 2011, 6:23 pm

Well, looks like it's time to start another Round Robin and this time it's my turn!

Rules: Read before posting or PMing.
1. No cert/god characters.
A cert or 'god' character is usually a character which is extremely powerful and/or never takes any damage. Killing a creature like the Corperal beast or Jad without much writing could be considered certing, but constantly killing many Disposable NPCs such as an enemy's army isn't unless a large percentage is killed in one action.

2. No killing of other Player characters(AKA, no 'murdering').
You are not allowed to kill a character played by another writer. Usually this refers to any character which is obviously a main one(the owner has posted a Biography for that character), or one which has been given a name (such asa soldier which was referred to as 'General John'). 'Random' titled characters such as when a character is referred to as 'Soldier' or 'Mage' and never by name can usually be killed without asking the owner. Characters like 'General John' or 'Lieutenant Wicken' should be asked about to the owner/main person who writes that character before being severely injured or killed.

3. Stick with the plot.
Quite obviously, if you know the storyline is going in search of something then don't make the characters turn around and go play Castle Wars. You know what I mean.

5. PM your Character's Biography and your first post to me BEFORE POSTING.
Unfortunately we've had to add this as a rule because we've had a few times where people randomly posted which messed up the storyline and then didn't post again.

ACCEPTED WRITERS:
Jasonmrc
Alex 43
Momsrascal

6. Remember BnB rules, No double posts.
We still follow all the RSBandB rules, and that includes 'No Double Posting'. If you're really ancy to post again because you've got an AWESOME story-part to add then message another writer and see if they have a post ready so that they can post and then you can post right after them.

7. No tiny posts, please.
Basically, if it's only a sentence or two it's probably too short to move the story very far. Try to write atleast a paragraph each time.

8. No hard to read colors.
Some people don't have extremely bright HDTVs so what looks normal to you might be too low for others to see without highlighting the text. This makes it no fun to the reader nor other writers. If you REALLY want to use a color but aren't sure if it'll be too dark against the dark background of BnB then send me a pm written in the color and ask if it's too dark.

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Biographies
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Name: Template
Gender: Template
Age: Template
Race: Template
Alignment: Template
Weapons: Template
Armor: Template
Strengths: Template
Weaknesses: Template
Physical Description: Template
History: Template

Name: Jason Taliasse Lendil (Goes by Jason)
Gender: Male
Age: 132 (Looks around 30)
Race: Elven
Alignment: Lawful Good, he's a follower of Armadyl.
Class: Paladin
Weapons:
Skrealing, Diamond-edge sword
Jason has inherited his father's crystalite sword, Skrealing. The sword's blade is made of pure diamond and sapphire, with a bit of dragonstone in its heart. Its hilt is made from refined dragon ore, and its handle is made out of yew and runite. Skrealing is always hanging by his side in its red velvet and yew wood scabbard. In a gem spot on his scabbard is a dark red ruby. It was given to him by his mother and is very precious to him. He's nearly lost it many times in battle when his scabbard was pulled or cut from his waist. He's thinking about having it made into a necklace.

Tisanta, Throwing/parrying knife
Tisanta was a gift from Skyrate after the great Eastern Project war, in which his crystal shield had been shattered (even the seed was splintered, due to the massive force the shield took). It's obvious the dagger is not made of any known metal or crystal material, Skyrate did not say where he got it. It is sufficient for parrying light attacks or throwing up to 30 yards.

The Scaarz-Got Blade, Broadsword
The Scaarz-Got is the only known item made of Millitharnin, though it has but a little. Millitharnin is an extremely rare ore only ever found twice in all the ages of RuneScape. The first bit was found in the First Age and the second bit was found only 20 years ago. Jason was lucky enough to get it. He had the smiths of Kailenia re-build the Scaarz-Got blade.

The Scaarz-Got does not easily dull. Infact, in the twenty years of its use, it has never chipped or dulled, even though it has constantly been used.

Skrealing is always on Jason's left side when he leaves Kailenia.
Tisanta is always on Jason, though he usually has it hidden.
The Scaarz-Got is only on Jason when he goes adventuring or to battle. It is sheathed on his right side.

Armor: Usually wears no armor when in Elduvian or on the Kailenian islands. He'll wear a Rune Chain covered by a red vest bearing the herald of Elduvian when outside of Kailenia. When in war (with sufficient time to prepare for it) he'll wear his white full plate armor, which also bears the herald of Elduvian.
Strengths: Diplomacy, archery and melee combat.
Weaknesses: Mages (if in his full plate) and archers (if in his chain)
Physical Description: Around 6'1", being of a fairly strong build with brown eyes and short brown hair. He wears a grey cape with a white star on it.
History: Jason was born in his Father's Castle, Elduvian. His Fathers Kingdom, Kailenian (Kye-leen-ee-uh), is located on 5 islands south-east of Karamja. There are four smaller islands each one pointing in each of the compass point directions. The bigger and main island which is in the middle is where the castle Elduvian is.

Jason was on of the commanders in the war against the Easterners. He commanded many of the troops sent by his kingdom. He was also a general in the War of Lore, though for much of it he was wounded.

Name: Skyrate Shadowstorm
Gender: Male
Age: 12,200
Race: Imlandrian
Alignment: He appears to be good, though no one has ever had the guts to actually ask him.
Personality: Stern and hard. He seems shifty and untrustable.
Class: Paladin, despite his looks.
Weapons:
Coreth-Nil, Katanna
Coreth-Nil is a black hilted, silvery edged katanna. It, like Tisanta, is made of an unknown metal, unknown to everyone except Skyrate at least.

Coreth-nil is an Evil Bane, thus it does extra damage to anyone aligned to darkness and evil doing. It is also a werewolf bane, due to its silvery edges.

Corion-Dialect, Katanna
Corion-Dialect is a black hilted, black bladed katanna. It, like Coreth-Nil and Tisanta, is made of an unknown metal.

Corion-Dialect is a Chaos Bane, thus it does extra damage to any chaotic aligned creature. It is also an Abyssal Bane, thus making it deal extra damage to Abyssal monsters.

Both Coreth-Nil and Corion-Dialect are sheathed criss-cross on his back.

The Blessing of Armadyl, Broad sword
The Blessing of Armadyl is a sacred sword, only one person in all of Gielinor can wield it without being struck dead, that person is Skyrate. The story of how he attained such a great sword is a very long one. The sword is both a physical item and a spiritual item. It is a white broad sword of normal length and build. The only odd thing about it is that it neither dulls nor degrades.

It is also a spiritual Blessing, from Armadyl the god of Law and Order. There are many myths about what the Blessing actually is. Some say it grants immunity to death, others say it will resurrect its wielder if they die when wielding it, and still others say that if the wielder dies they will come back as an invulnerable spirit. Nobody but Skyrate really knows if there true or not, and there's no way to make him say if they are or not.

All people know is that it must have some great power, for it brought an undead necromancer back to life...and brought him to the light again.

The Blessing of Armadyl is sheathed in a dark scabbard on his left side.

Armor: He doesn't appear to wear any aside from midnight black leather armor.
Strengths: Speed, Agility, Accuracy, and Concealment.
Weaknesses: Archers and Mages, though both would have to be in a rather large quantity to harm him.
Physical Description: Dark and mysterious. If you didn't know him then you would most likely be afraid of him. If you did know him then you would most likely respect him. He's 7'1" tall and of a strong build. He wears a black cloak which has a white star on it which can only be seen by followers of Saradomin or Armadyl.
History: Not much seems to be known about this strange wanderer. Many records tell of a shadow which moves like a man. These tales have been found in records dating back to the first age. Many people who see him think he's just a hotshot wearing a dark cloak and hood, if they were to ever meet him in combat they would think differently.

In the War of the Eastern Project Skyrate commanded many soldiers of all types. He also defeated many fearsome adversaries in the war, most notably was Karmit Negoroc.
In the War of Lore Skyrate commanded many soldiers and defeated many enemies, most notably the Vyrevolves.

Name: Michael
Gender: Male
Age: 427, He looks about 40
Race: Nature Elemental
Alignment: Lawful Good, though he follows Guthix.
Personality: Generous and kind, though sometimes quick to anger.
Class: Mage (Elementalist) and Martial Artist
Weapons:
Woad Wave, Battle Staff
Woad Wave is a 8' long staff made out of a magic tree branch. It has a 2' long runeite blade at the top of it. Where the blade meets the magic tree shaft there is a green maple leaf.
Armor: Dark Green, light weight, robes. He can use natural surroundings to protect him also.
Strengths: His ability to take the form of many natural things allows him to be as strong as runite or stone (or any other strong natural thing). This ability also allows him to become ethereal like air. He can usually hold his own in melee combat, though he lacks armor.
Weaknesses: His lack of any type of worked armor makes it hard for him to survive many melee attacks or arrows.

He has multiple strengths and weaknesses depending on which form he's in.

Physical Description: 7'5" Black eyes, with short Black hair, very strong build (Not the type you would see shooting spells, eh?). When he turns into a Rock, Stone, or Mud Elemental he grows to be 15' tall and weighs over a ton. He wears a dark green cape with a white star on it. When he's in elemental form you cannot see the star.
History: Michael was one of the turning points in the later part of the Eastern Project war. His elemental abilities, combined with Elise's, were used to destroy all of the Easterner ships which were attacking the Eastern shores of Gielinor.

Michael trains Elise further in the use of her elemental powers whenever She and Momsrascal come to Kailenia.

Name: Timrak Corogen
Gender: Male
Age: 2,177
Race: Imlandrian
Alignment: Lawful Good, He's a follower of Armadyl.
Personality: Bold, and rather daring at times. He's willing to put himself in danger in order to save his friends.
Class: Paladin and Deryni
Weapons:
Larrilong Lathehaven, Longsword
Larrilong Lathehaven is a blue longsword, some say it's blue because Saradomin has enchanted it (this is just gossip, ofcourse...). Nobody is quite sure where it got its name from.

Kytari, Arm Knife
Kytari looks like a shortsword strapped to Timraks left arm. For its handle, there is a 4 inch long post which comes out of the hilt into his palm for him to grab. It has a knuckle guard infront of this to protect his hand when stabbing or blocking attacks. Its blade is two feet long and made of a light blue metal, apparently comprised of at least some mithril.
Though it's light weight, it is a little cumbersome to equip. Thus he must take a few seconds too equip it (he cannot pull it out of its sheath, which is on his left leg, quickly).

Armor: He wears the normal Star Knight garb; white full plate with a Star on its chest, when going to war. His normal everyday garb is a white chain shirt (made of mithril so it's light) with a star on that chest, his legs are covered by chain chaps.

Strengths: Speed, Accuracy, Magic, and his willingness to persevere when others would stop.
Weaknesses: Hardly any combat weakness; Only weak to rangers when in his chain, never weak to Mages, never actually "weak" to meleers (though his defense is lower when he's not wearing his full plate).

His constant desire to protect his friends could be considered a weakness and a strength.

Physical Description: 6'11" with short black hair, of a moderately strong build. He wears a grey cloak (with hood, which is usually up when outside of Kailenia) which has a white star on it which can only be seen by followers of Saradomin or Armadyl.
History: Timrak Corogen was one of the Commanders for the Easterner army. He had been converted to an undead (not a skeleton, Zombie, or Vampire though) hundreds of years before in the Last Zarosian battle. During the battle of the Eastern Project, Skyrate used The Blessing of Armadyl to cleanse Timrak and bring him back to the light.

Now he's one of the founders of The Order of the White Star. Infact it what his idea to create the Order.

Name: Sylena ShadowScythe
Gender: Female
Age: 12,198 (She looks in her 20s)
Race: Imlandrian
Gender: Female
Alignment: Good, you can tell from her voice.
Personality: Kind and considerate to most people, serious and concentrated when fighting
Class: Rogue
Weapons:
Faeris Palaris, Wrist Blade
Faeris Palaris is a blue bladed, silver handled Wrist Blade. It is made of a metal known only to Sylena and Skyrate.

Airion, Blade of the Night, Wrist Blade
Airion's blade is pure black, its hilt & handle is a faint maroon. It is made of a metal known only to Sylena and Skyrate.

Airion is a Magick-Bender, an extremely rare type of weapon which can deflect, redirect, and even hold most spells.

Faeris Palaris and Airion are sheathed on either side of her waist.

Tenkys(10), Throwing Stars
Tenkys are black, star shaped, throwing stars. They are made of an unknown metal which is strong and lightweight.

Armor: She doesn't appear to have any except for her midnight black clothing.
Strengths: Incredible Dexterity, Speed, and Agility.
Weaknesses: Her Dexterity comes at the cost of being fairly fragile, and thus cannot sustain many physical wounds.
Physical Description: A dark figure with Asian(tan-brown) colored skin and long black hair which comes down to her waist(or, when braided, comes to the middle of her back), she has pretty brown eyes. She's 5'5" and of a light, slender build. She wears a light black cloak with hood, which is sometimes shadowing her face.
History: Sylena was not recorded in any histories until around a thousand years ago, where she was written of as 'The blade of the night'.

Name: Natalya Norodrium
Gender: Female, ofcourse
Age: You probably don't want to know
Race: Mahjarrat, though unlike most she looks like a human instead of a lich.
Alignment: Neutral
Weapons:
Tanysha, Arming Sword
Tanysha is a medium length sword a little shorter than a broadsword but longer than a shortsword. Its blade is a rough-looking dark brown with a spiked crossguard and brown handle with a 5 inch long pommel in the shape of a single spike, suitable for stabbing with.

Tanysha is sheathed diagonally across her lower back.

Behel-El, Telescoping quarterstaff
Behel-El is a Telescoping dragonite quarterstaff about a foot long. It can telescope out to a length of 10 feet.

Behel-El is carried packed up on her belt.

Teigon and Taigon, Dual one-handed repeating crossbows
Teigon and Taigon are twin Dragon(limb & stock) Repeating Crossbows. When the trigger is pulled it fires a bolt and a small mechanism uses the recoil to reload and ready it for firing again. Each crossbow can fire two bolts per second. Each crossbow uses a 10-shot bolt cartridge which can be easily dropped and replaced with another during combat.

Teigon and Taigon are hooked onto her belt when not in use.

Armor: Dragonite shin-guards, thighplates, bracerplates, and upper arm plates.
Strengths: For the most part unknown, though it appears Mobility and Agility to due how she's dressed. She also has the rare ability of telepathy which allows her to speak to one or multiple people's minds, instead of using audiable words. She can do this at any distance. She need not know the person and they don't have to be willing for her to do it when she can see them, however they must be willing and she must know them to do it over a long distance.
Weaknesses: Unknown. Assumed to be frailty due to her appearing to be extremely agile. Supposed random headaches as well due to what lore says about telepathy.
Physical Description: Dark Brown. She appears to be a 7 foot tall dark brown cloaked figure with yellow glowing eyes and a brown bandana covering her mouth. Under the cloak she wears dragonite plates on her shins and thighs. The same type of plates also cover her forearm almost like a vambrace and her upper arm. She wears a dark brown sleeveless middriff vest made of something like leather. She has short pants which cover less than half of her upper leg and are made of the same material. She appears to be dressed for utmost mobility.
History: None. Atleast, none known by mortals.

Unknown to most, as Natalya kills opponents of any alignment she gains power. However she must pause for a few minutes for this power to actually 'take affect'.

The Order of the White Star

History: The Order of the White Star (TOWS) is an organization founded by Jason, Timrak, and many other soldiers of Kailenia.

What it is: The Order of the White Star is a group of very experienced and highly trained warriors.

Religion: All Knights of the Star follow either Saradomin or Armadyl.

Location: The Order of the White Star has its base on the Kailenian islands.

Purpose: TOWS's main purpose is to ensure the safety of Gielinor. Though they are few, (numbering around 450) they are allied with many other organizations (both secret and not) around RuneScape. They usually just organize security in unsettled parts of Gielinor (yes, even the remotest parts of the wilderness are watched). This is to ensure no odd behavior is going on. If any is, a troop (usually 5 Knights are in each troop) of Knights of the Star are sent out to the area to investigate.

TOWS will send out Knights to aid in wars and battles. No Knight of the Star is afraid of death (though they would much rather live).

Insignia: All Knights of the Star wear a cape with hood which has a white star on it. The most skilled craftsmen and mages of TOWS have built their capes so that only followers of Saradomin or Armadyl can see their Star.

Weapons: The usual weapon for any Knight of the Star is a longsword. These longswords are specially built by one of the Knights of the Star who is a blacksmith. They have a white Star as their hilt, the bottom point of this star stretches down to form the handle of the sword.

Armament: Most Knights of the Star wear full plate when going to war, this plate armor has a white Star on the chest. The alternative war armor is a chain shirt and chain leg-wear, there is a white Star on the chest of the shirt. Most Knights of the Star use kite shields. These are specially made by the Blacksmith of TOWS, and have a white Star in the center.

Occupations: The Order of the White Star allows its Knights to work for any city or Kingdom in RuneScape. However, they must obey allegiance to The Order of the White Star above their normal employer. The Order of the White Star comes first in the eyes of a Knight of the Star.

Experience: All Knights of the Star are highly skilled swordsman (and women). Many of them also have exceptional archery or magical skills also.

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Prologue
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It has been 5 months since the strange earthquake happened which shook the entirety of Gielinor. It's source is still unknown, however some think the appearence of a man named 'Lior' who claims to be a 'replacement' for Saradomin may be the cause. This Lior has only been seen by one person so far and that was on the day of the earthquake. He has not been seen or heard of by any one since.

Soon after the earthquake one of the largest demolitions in history happened, the Dark Fortress ,where dwelt the evil Lawrence and Darkrascal and their army, was destroyed. The Order of the White Star had sent out a commanders leading an army of Elduvian Knights to attack the Fortress but upon reaching the Fortress they found it destroyed and desolate. A search was conducted weeks later and the searchers came to the conclusion that something inside the fortress had used very powerful magic to destroy parts of the fortress. At the same time another creature, mostlikely a Black Demon or larger, had begun ripping pieces of the fortress off from the inside.

The Order of the White Star's army marched to the land of Rellekka to finish off the remaining army of Lawrence and Darkrascal. For months the two armies had fought over the kingdoms of Asgarnia, Misthalin, and Kandarin. During this time the Cities and Townships of Varrock, Edgeville, The Monastery, the Barbarian Village, Draynor Village, Port Sarim, Rimmington, Taverly, Burthorpe, Catherby, Camelot, Seers' Village, Hemenster, and West & East Ardougne were destroyed. The Elduvian army alongwith the TOWS Generals and Heroes were able to protect Lumbridge from destruction and reclaim Ardougne before the end of the War of Lore.

Now, all the survivors and the people of the Kaileenian islands, alongwith help from the Dwarves of Keldagrim, have begun rebuilding all the destroyed cities. A defence of Elduvian knights, Star Knights, Dwarven warriors, and Human guards keep watch over the borders of the Wilderness and the road leading to Morytania.

All the while, a dark evil readies itself to emerge from the depths of the Wilderness. An Ancient Evil which has lurked there for ages has amassed the power it feels necessary to wipe out its Enemy once and for all.

Adbot · **Posted:** February 7th, 2011, 6:23 pm

momsrascal93 · **Posted:** February 9th, 2011, 7:24 pm

Name: Momsrascal Braveheart
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Race: Originally born human. Now half cat due to a magical accident in her past.
Alignment: Good
Weapons: Two holy long swords
Armor: A form fitting leather vest
Strengths: She's almost as fast as any elf, skilled in duel wielding, cooking.
Weaknesses: Mages, Archers.
Appearance: Medium build, around 5'6'', white cat tail and ears, fair skin, green eyes and brown hair. She wears a teal shirt and white pants with a belted pouch. http://i596.photobucket.com/albums/tt47 ... ngs/momsrascal-2.png
History: She fought for the Mastery back in the Tome of the Seven Worlds, she fought in and adopted Elise during the Eastern project and she fought for the Elduvian army in the recently ended War of Lore.

Name: Elise Braveheart
Gender: Female
Age: 8
Race: Earth Elemental
Alignment: Good
Weapons: Earth battle staff for the time being.
Armor: Bright green mage robes custom fitted for her size
Strengths: Incredibly intelligent for an 8 year old girl. She's skilled in magic and herblore.
Weaknesses: Melee, her age kind of works against her sometimes.
Appearance: about 4'0'' tall, fair skin, dark brown hair she keeps in pigtails, and she wears a spring green dress when not in combat. http://i596.photobucket.com/albums/tt47 ... awings/elisebase.png
History: She was orphaned at the age of 5 and was taken in by Momrascal. She fought in the Eastern Project and War of Lore.

Name: Tenshi
Gender: Male
Age: 1 (looks like 21.)
Race: Holy ethereal spirit
Alignment: Good?
Weapon: Divinity (broadsword) looks like this: http://i596.photobucket.com/albums/tt47 ... hisword20001-1-1.jpg
Armor: white chain shirt
Strengths: Balanced in defense, attack, and strength.
Weaknesses: He's a fresh being so he lacks experience with most things.
Appearance: Lawrence's holy mirror. 6'0'', light blond hair and blue eyes, fair skin, wears mostly white clothes. http://i596.photobucket.com/albums/tt47 ... s/requesteeditto.png
History: Created by Saradomin and fought during the War of Lore.

Name: Lawrence
Gender: Male
Age: 21(immortal)
Race: Shadow half vampire
Alignment: Evil?
Weapon: Zamorak katana, dragon throwing knives
Armor: form fitting leather armor
Strengths: Balanced in speed, defense and strength. He can control the weak minded. He has incredible influence among his peers.
Weaknesses: over confident and irresponsible.
Appearance: Black hair, red eyes, dark tan skin, about 6'0''. Wears a black jacket, white gloves, black pants and a red vest. http://i596.photobucket.com/albums/tt47 ... ioness7s-d32v5jc.jpg
History: Appeared during the Eastern Project, joining in towards the end of the war. He later married Darkrascal, and took into custody, a daughter he never knew he had for the first 8 years of her life.

Name: Darkrascal
Age: 8
Gender: Female
Allience: Chaotic neutral
Race: Shadow Half cat
Weapon: Zamorak two handed sword
Armor: Heavy shadenite and leather plate armor.
Strengths: Superior physical strength, her wild instincts.
Weaknesses: Obnoxious, quick to anger. magical attacks
Appearance. Long black hair, red eyes, dark tan skin, 5'6''. Wears dark grey and black clothes. http://i596.photobucket.com/albums/tt47 ... darkrascal0001-2.jpg
History: Created as Momsrascal's unholy counterpart by Zamorak. Up until the War of Lore, she's fought alongside the heroes from the Tome of the Seven Worlds and the Eastern Project. In the War of Lore, she became leader of Zamorak's army along side her husband, Lawrence.

Name: Kate
Age: 9
Gender: Female
Allience: Neutral with evil tendencies
Race: Half Shadow, half human, fire elemental
Weapon: Black Blaze(Staff) Black Blaze combines fire and shadow spells.
Armor: None
Strengths: Great magical skills, summoning, and necromancy.
Weaknesses: ranged attacks.
Appearance: Dark violet hair, red eyes, 4'3'', wears many sorts of dark colored and expensive dresses. http://i596.photobucket.com/albums/tt47 ... /drawings/kate-2.png
History: She's Lawrence's daughter, who's mother Lawrence had an affair with an left. After she accidentally burned her parents alive with her new found abilities she was taken in by the ZMI until she finally located Lawrence, her father. She also held a key position as a leader of the magic users in Lawrence's army during the War of Lore.

Momsrascal and Elise never returned to Ardougne as residents. Instead, she and Elise had their home rebuilt on the Kaileenian islands. The move was perfect for them. The islands were a paradise, having all of the best for her and Elise. Elise was even able to train her abilities a lot more often now. Even still, Momsrascal didn't relax as she assisted in repairing Lawrence's destruction while she sent Elise off to school.

Tenshi was also helping to rebuild. He took on the tasks of helping to rebuild Falador, and Ardougne as well since he helped to siege it. With Saradomin dead, he was becoming more comfortable being a follower of Lior the Golden. As such, Tenshi also took it upon himself to inform former Saradominists to follow Lior as well, and to replace Saradomin's symbol with Lior's.

Meanwhile elsewhere 5 months ago...

For the past few days they'd been at sea, hoping to see an island to hide away on. Their food would only last all of them for another week if they'd stuck to eating the bare minimum. Many were suffering a lack of sleep due to the cramped sleeping conditions. They were tired and irritable. Lawrence found himself having to break up more and more conflicts the longer they stayed on this ship. They were soon 100 miles north east of Demonheim.

Darkrascal looked over at Neo, a shadow who had just finished throwing up overboard due to sea sickness. The gloom even seemed to take some hold over her.

"Land ho!!" Someone suddenly shouted and everyone rushed to the bow to see the cluster of islands they were approaching. They decided to stop there. Darkrascal was part of the exploring crew, making maps of the island. The island they landed on was a bit barren, but it was not impossible to support life. Another Island however, was green, vibrant and blessed by the sun and would be perfect for farming. The third island seemed to be favored by the shadow elves with them. A dark forest sprawled and covered much of the island. They quickly decided on calling this place home.

Soon, Lawrence had poured all of his money and remaining resources into building up the island. This actually put him in a lot of debt, with no way to pay it back. As the shadows began exporting things, money started coming into island. The exports peaked the curiosity of many adventurers. These adventurers made economy of the isles boom. Lawrence imposed small taxes on the exports and sales of the inhabitant's wares. With this, he slowly pulled himself out of debt. Lawrence, Darkrascal, and Kate went into secrecy from the public due to the outsiders coming in.

Now

Lawrence is back on his feet and is quite pleased with the lifestyle everyone has made for themselves, however, none of them have forgotten about Dulcien. Lawrence had Ace steal all sorts of plans for gnomish and dwarven technology, having the others alter the designs to make the perfect vehicles for reconnaissance to spy on Dulcien and his movements making things from submersibles to stealthy gliders. He and Darkrascal have been readying their only remaining allies for battle.

Alex 43 · **Posted:** February 10th, 2011, 11:39 pm

Ladies and gentlemen: The man of the hour!

I'll be introducing my characters in the template as they appear. If they don't get their profiles, they are simply disposable characters, and will likely vanish within 2-3 posts.

Name: Allezyamos (Alex)
Gender: Male
Age: Approx. 150 000 years, but due to an incident during the Third God Wars, was reborn with a cleared mind, reverting his age to around 1200 years.
Race: Spirit
Alignment: Saradomin (Sartranomin)
Weapons: A large spear with a diamond-shaped head and barbed tip with four smaller slicing tips along the sides. The spear is taller than he is.
Armor: Adamantite.
Strengths: Quick, agile, and tactical.
Weaknesses: Low stamina and strength. He is more a team leader than a solo warrior.
Physical Description: He's an adamantite suit of armor, themed similar to that of a dragon. The visor on his blue-plumed helmet has a pointed tip, outstretched like a dragon muzzle and ending on the sides in pointed, horn-like protrusions. All around his armor, he has trimmed silver on the joints and placements of moveable segments. On his chest is what appears to be a broken Saradomin symbol made of glowing aquamarine - the upper point separated in a diamond-shape above the rest of the star, and surrounded by a hexagonal silver trimming. He carries a solid, pale cyan spear; its head shaped like a diamond with a barbed tip at the end and four smaller spikes sticking out the sides for slashing.
Personality: He's a leader. Tactical, clever, and cunning, he will analyze opponents, figure out weaknesses and tactics, and attempt to outsmart rather than out-maneuver them in the midst of battle. Much the same, he is more effectively employed when he has an ally or two to give direction to, as his direction and command tend to increase their capabilities. Otherwise, when he's not in battle, he's honest, moral, and sometimes even gullible provided the right reasons are given. Nevertheless, he will not be played the fool. Not ever.
History: His history had been a confusing one. After his last quest, he had been re-affiliated with his long lost past, which set him to be one of the three Watchers created by Lord Sartranomin, alongside an agent, to whom the world knew as Saradomin. They used to work behind the scenes, watching and moderating the world, starting and stopping wars, and taking up guises of Gods and spiritual beings should the faith need restoring.
But that was his past. Now, he is nothing but a warrior who fights in Saradomin's name, devoted to the sanctity of the weak, the protection of the trusted, and the goodness of humanity.
He lives, with his companion, as a hermit on a small island in the midst of the ocean, highlighted by a large tower with a glass star-shaped top - a light of hope in the midst of a dark, stormy sea. There, he practices herblore and the occasional smithing project, while his companion takes a rather keen interest in astronomy. Enough even to build a telescope, on its own, after merely touring the observatory and getting but a glimpse at the real thing. It had to, after all, as the professors wouldn't let it have the blueprints.

__________________________________________________

A blast of steam blew out of the small, rectangular mouth-hole on his golden mask, barely highlighted by the half-moon lit night.

His eyes were locked onto the gaze of the adamantite warrior standing in front of him. Behind him was the pit, or at least one of them. After this one was the one where Varrock once stood, along with one in the desert, one in the northern lands, and a couple in the midst of the ocean, where not even the water fell into. They were nothing but large, dark pits, filled with black clouds and pulsing blue lightning where not even the wind dared to blow into.

This was not the first time they were fighting. Far from it; they had fought numerous times before. So often that one would wonder why they had not killed themselves yet. This was the intention, after all. They fought to kill. They wanted each other dead. They could not bear to see each others faces, glaring at them endlessly in their subconscious minds as they watched the heavens, pondering the strategies to use against each other for the next fight.

But this was for real this time. His opponent didn't have any allies with him, and he was not handicapped. They were both well-rested and ready for battle, brandishing their newly-crafted, scratch-less weapons and reflecting moonlight upon their flawless, undamaged armours. The adamantite warrior was his own armor. Himself, he settled for gold armor, as despite its softness and overall uselessness, added some good weight to his attacks. Not that he needed armor to keep himself protected. His noisy, air-piercing weapon did that on its own.

A battle in the secrecy of the night. A large, open battleground, free of obstacle. No witnesses. No interference. No mercy.

The only thing spoiling this perfectly arranged battle was one minor condition.

They weren't trying to kill each other this time.

__________________________________________________

It was a false hope that Alex would never have to see the monster standing before him again. He seemed to have a tendency to always keep running into his most hated enemies, no matter how much he wanted to avoid them. Sure, it was on his request that the six-foot tall, golden-masked man stood there, but even if he didn't make it, he figured that for whatever reason, either revenge or reprisal, he was no doubt going to look into its soulless, immoral eyes again with the will to battle.

That's exactly what he was doing right now. He was poised in a low stance, with his spear held back at the ready. So was his opponent, who held its own, staff-like weapon out in a similar maneuver.

He knew what he was fighting for. He knew the consequence of defeat. Truth be told, it could've been much worse. It could've been the same as last they had battled. The finale of that bout had surprised them all, and it was only by his one well-formulated plan based on mere hypothetical assumption that he still existed in the realm of reality.

Hunt suddenly charged, and Alex did the same. There was a loud screeching, and a ripple of distorted air enveloped the head of the Hingaerd as it was swung at him. Alex ducked the first strike, and jumped the second as it came around. He drove his spear downward in a slam, and Hunt went with the turn to hurl himself sideways. Alex's slam hit the ground, and he also turned into it to avoid an upward sweep. He flipped his spear around his head, and clashed it against the Hingaerd as it twirled its way diagonally back into a horizontal spin.

*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*

Spear and Hingaerd battled for their masters. The force was powerful, but neither weapons sparked, nor dented, nor even scratched each other. Both opponents kept their distance, attempting to disarm or disorient the other before moving in for the attack. However, both sides had such control that it was a rare occurrence.

Alex stepped back, but suddenly slid on the wet ground, losing his balance. Taking full advantage of the moment, Hunt suddenly stepped in with a thrust attack, and Alex forced his weight onto his spear, driving it down diagonally onto the Hingaerd. The rithlyte, spiked halberd-like weapon hooked onto the spear-shaft, and no longer able to keep his balance, Alex let himself fall down onto the Hingaerd, bring it to the ground with him.

His opponent didn't let go. Instead, it used an incredible amount of force to yank it upward, and Alex suddenly shifted his balance onto his own spear. He was heaved upwards and launched into the air behind his opponent. Timing the movement, he yanked his spear-shaft upwards, keeping the hook on the weapon, and his opponent staggered forward, trying to keep a solid grip on the weapon. Thanks to the pull-back, Alex used it to realign himself and drop down with his spear at the ready, and his opponent leapt back before Alex could jab his weapon into his mask.

And for the 43rd time, they parted. It was just after sundown that they had begun, but now the minutes had stretched into hours, and still not a victor in sight. Alex had no choice but to compliment his opponent. It was far more stronger, superior, and skilled then he was.

But there still was one thing that Alex had that his opponent lacked. The one thing that had allowed him to defeat it the previous time. He was saving it for now, letting the battle draw out just to see how much power his opponent retained after last battle. Not as much as he's liked; the man was slower than usual, but still boasted that endless amount of effort in all its attacks.

But now, no more holding back. Now, it was time to start trying.

Now, it was time for tactics.

This time, Alex struck first. His opponent flipped its robes back, exposing its golden armor and white-gold symbol on the chest. Nobody on the planet could identify it, as there were no records or instances with which it ever appeared. And it was best to keep it that way.

Alex lunged in for a stab, and his opponent raised the Hingaerd in the block, but suddenly Alex jumped. It was a feint, and the Hingaerd was moving upwards. Alex twirled himself in mid-air, spinning the spear into a long circular sweep. His opponent, as per to its nature, grabbed the Hingaerd by its upper shaft, and with incredible force, heaved it to move in the other direction.

Just as Alex had expected.

Without warning, he suddenly released his spear, which embedded itself in the muddy ground just behind his opponent, who didn't bother dodging as it knew his aim was off. However, that was the intent. As soon as the man in golden armor heaved the Hingaerd forward, it suddenly caught onto the spear shaft, yanking it way off course and disorienting its master. It then attempted to quickly retaliate and swing the Hingaerd back upward, pulling the lower head upward at Alex, but he was already ready for it.

Alex landed on his spear handle, which was curved diagonally thanks to his opponent's motion. By planting both feet on it, he pressed it down, uprooting it from the ground and landing the shaft onto the other head of the Hingaerd, jamming it right into the ground. His opponent completely stunned by the strange maneuver, Alex threw a punch into its mask, sending it staggering backwards and dropping its weapon. He then kick-flipped his spear back into his hands, careful to keep one foot on the Hingaerd, which now had both heads in the mud, and quickly swept it under his opponent's legs.

It flipped backward, and Alex followed it up with a quick dash and a gauntlet to its throat. He slammed his opponent down to the ground and pressed his spear-tip right to the centre of its chest.

Without any hesitation, he drove it right in.

His opponent tensed, and lay perfectly still. The battle was over.

He won.

"Well played, Hunt." Alex complimented.

Under the mask, the man glared. A blast of steam blew out of the mask.

"You don't have to use that name; you know who I really am." he hissed. His voice was low, deep, and metallic, and came out with enough bass to make his helmet plume vibrate.

Alex yanked his spear out. There was no blood or guts; only mud, which he simply shook off.

"Just playing it cautious, in case there are witnesses." Alex shrugged, holding his spear up. It suddenly melted into a shapeless glob, which was sucked into a small hole under his gauntlet until it was completely out of sight.

Hunt didn't need Alex's offered hand. He backflipped himself right back onto his feet, spun his weapon around by the hinge in the middle of the shaft, and tucked it away in his robes.

"Why? Why can't I beat you?" he complained, advancing so hard Alex had to step back to avoid the possibility of getting strangled.

"You had lost most of your power when I beat you last time," Alex said, "And, by what I understand, you had not been doing much training and revision while you had him in you, on account of the matter that it would've been risky."

A low grumble was heard from within the mask. As much as Hunt hated to say it, he knew that Alex was right. As usual. Usually when the spirit made educated guesses, despite the absurdity at the time, they came out correct.

"One of these days …" Hunt threatened, "I will rematch you. And I WILL beat you! Same conditions, different result. I will humiliate any and all faith you have in your combat abilities, and I will make you realize that it was mere fluke these last few times that you got lucky."

Alex crossed his arms, as though to say he was still impatiently waiting for it to happen. They both glared at each other for a moment, but then Hunt backed off.

"Well, a deal is a deal." Hunt said, loosening his shoulders, "And, unfortunately for me, I cannot deny that it was a good bit of fun. Not as worth it as I'd have liked it to be."

Alex smiled; the bottom of his visage-like visor curving upwards.

"Ah, but if you had beaten me, you wouldn't have done this regardless." he said.

There was a low rumbling sound. Hunt was chuckling.

"You know, it was a pain getting this armor back." he said, walking over to the ledge of the large, endless pit, "Some crazy, savage human wearing animal pelts turned it into a sort of trophy for himself. The wretch; he had no right to the armor."

Hunt half-turned to Alex, avoiding eye contact.

"I … had intended it to be Gia's death trophy." he said, "But apparently, … it didn't-"

"Just drop the subject." Alex said. His smile was gone, but his emotion hadn't changed, "I had already forgiven you for that. Let's not trod over that ground when it's been newly patted down."

Hunt nodded, and a low hissing sound was heard from within the mask.

"Yeah. I'll say no more on it."

Both warriors peered down into the pit. They both knew well that it wasn't originally like this. Before this pit, there was a large stretch of wilderness land, along with half a thriving town. Since then, however, nobody had dared settle in the area, in fear that the pits and their remainders were cursed with some dark, evil energy. Despite the soft dirt, Alex stood right on the ledge, but it did not crumble into the pit. It was almost as though it had self-adhered itself to avoid falling in.

"Random question. Where do you keep it all?" Alex asked, curiously.

Hunt crossed his arms.

"My realm is where things are created and destroyed out of nothingness." he replied, "Nothingness doesn't take up any space, and I can turn absolutely anything into it. Needless to say, I will not be returning the exact same dirt and rock that I had taken from you, but I think what will come will suffice."

"It's the thought that counts, I suppose." Alex replied, "After all, you're sort of doing this against your will, so I can't complain."

Hunt shot Alex a look before turning to the pit, "I don't do ANYTHING against my will … not anymore ..."

Hunt bent his knees and tensed up. His hands glowed an intense blue color, and a ring of equally blue light appeared around his feet. A stream of wave-like, rippling smoke streams blasted out the bottom of his robes and poured into the pit, mixing with the black clouds below. Alex watched intently as Hunt then clapped both hands together and tore them apart, ripping a frenzy of sparks out of his fingers in the process.

Suddenly, from above, a great black mass formed overhead, sparking with the same blue lightning as the pit. It swirled around, caught up in a great wind that suddenly appeared around them. Hunt's robes flapped in the ever-increasing storm, exposing more of his golden armor underneath. He forced both hands together, summoning forth an incredible power.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYAAAAAA!" Hunt screamed, slamming both fists into the glowing circle below him.

Suddenly, the air was filled with dust, blowing out in enormous, dark clouds exploding out of the swirling mass. It pooled into the pit with such incredible velocity and intensity that it blurred into a near-solid shape that Alex couldn't even put his hand through no matter how hard he pushed. The dust particles dove into the pit as though they were sucked right in.

After several intense minutes of powerful winds and immense dust clouds, the storm finally died down, and the dust dissipated to reveal what had become of the pit. it had vanished entirely, replaced with a ground and area so natural to the surrounding landmasses that it was as though the pit itself had never existed. Even dead trees and fungi had appeared with the dirt and soil, equally tainted with dark energies as the rest. The clouds above dissipated, and the moon once again bore its hauntingly silver light upon the land.

"Wow. And to think I envied mahjarrat for their powers of creation." Alex said, nodding in approval. He pressed one foot into the ground, and it didn't even give way. This was no illusion.

The wilderness and Edgeville area had been returned.

Hunt collapsed to both knees. To Alex's surprise, he was genuinely exhausted and a series of steam puffs burst out of his mouthpiece in segments.

"Gah! It was so much easier to do this when I had his power." he muttered aloud.

"It's all right. Take your time." Alex said, "No need to rush."

Hunt turned his head to face Alex. The darkness within the eyeholes glowed a faint blue before dissipating.

"I'm spent for tonight. Take me to your hovel in the sea." he instructed, "And brew me up something hot. And wet. A boiling cauldron of water would be ideal."

Alex acknowledged, and hoisted the exhausted warrior onto his back. At the SWC, no matter the religion, or the background, or even the intent. He was a host, and Hunt was the guest.

And a good host takes care of his guests.

Jasonmrc · **Posted:** February 23rd, 2011, 1:39 pm

"How do the Dwarves do it?" Jason asked after putting down a large brick near one of the Ardougne walls.

"I think they're just that much stronger than us." Conter said as he put a brick down.

They both turned as they heard the sound of horses and a wagon and a dwarf humming. Coming around the corner of one of the houses was Nimrock driving a wagon loaded with bricks. He was reclining in the seat, smoking, and humming.

"And to think, the Dwarves have a reputation of moving these huge rocks by themselves!" Jason said when the wagon came to a stop. They all laughed.

"We never said we did it by hand. The humans are the ones that started that." Nimrock said as he got down off the wagon and began unloading the large stone bricks.

"All the same, I wish you had told us you were going to use a wagon before we moved these." Jason said.

"You didn't ask." Nimrock replied and heaved another brick off the wagon. They all chuckled.

In a meeting held some 4 months ago it was deemed that Ardougne should be rebuilt and fortified before Falador. This was because Ardougne was farther from the Wilderness and the largest threat was in the Wilderness. The heroes thought it would be better to refortify an area that would be safe to work on first rather than fortify an area which would require additional guards to protect and that could draw attention.

Falador was not forgotten though, a fresh battalion of Elduvian troops combined with Dwarven Warriors had just arrived there a week ago. Later this week some of the artisan Star Knights would go there with supplies and other craftsmen to start building a small fortification on the site of the old White Knights Castle. A small dock was also to be erected on the shore to the west of Falador to allow transport and trade between Falador, Catherby, and Ardougne once all three were rebuilt.

For the past 3 months Karmadin and a troop of about 60 Rangers patrolled the lower Wilderness and surrounding territory, keeping an eye out for anything unnatural. Recently they've noticed more and more revenant spirits coming to the lower Wilderness. Most of these have been dealt with fairly easily, but the rapidity of their movements is unsettling.

"That's the fifth one today, Captain." Kerrtin said.

"Yes, and all Dark Beasts as well." Karmadin said as he watched the form of the revenant disappear. "Their strength is growing. From what or by what I do not know, but I wish to find out."

"Do you plan to go into the Deep Wilderness, Sir?" the Ranger asked.

"Yes, but not right now, I think." Karmadin put his hand on his friend's shoulder, "We Rangers are some of the most fearsome and fearless warriors of The Good, but there is an evil in there even greater than we could handle I fear. I think we must wait for Skyrate to return before we dare that journey."

Karmadin sheathed his sword and picked up his bow and then said, "I think it is time for another counsel. We have done our duty here and I do not think we can learn much more here at this time. We will gather the rangers and then head back to Falador and inform the guards there of the increase in revenants. Then we'll head to Ardougne to talk with Jason. If he thinks we should have a counsel then we will. If not, then we may risk a journey into the Deep Wilderness.

Kerrtin nodded and then followed his captain.

Alex 43 · **Posted:** February 25th, 2011, 1:02 am

Thanks to his new body, getting to and from the SWC was much faster and took little to no effort on his part. Upon arriving, Hunt wasted no time in leaping off onto the moss-covered rock, grown specifically to help increase the friction so nobody would slice into the ocean. On landing, Alex immediately reverted back to his suit of armor and went straight for the large bowl he had overtop the outdoor furnace.

His companion had not returned yet from a mission it gave itself in the fairy realm of Zanaris. It was a good thing. Alex would not have liked for it to have met Hunt.

Using a lever on the side located by the cyan-colored light on his chest, Alex activated the mechanism that tilted the bowl over, and the large, half-sphere of adamantite currently occupying it fell into a large hammock-like carrier next to it. He tossed several yew and willow logs into the furnace, stuck his hand inside, and after a flash and roar of thunder, the furnace was lit.

Now for the water. Alex clasped both hands together and focused. He had made a promise to a friend, and this time, he had kept it. With virtually no effort, he manipulated the physics of the bowl, causing it to float over its stand, shoot over to the sea, and fill itself full of water before returning. Had this been 5 months ago, he doubted it would've been as easy. Since the battle in the God Realm, he had focused an incredible amount of time into training the art of, what his mentor in the field called, "majiya". He didn't have much of a choice, as not doing so would've kept him hardly able to effectively use his new body.

A couple of magic logs into the mix, and the fire inside glowed a bright yellow, and despite the salt content and amount of water inside, the bowl was bubbling in a matter of minutes. Alex watched, smiling. His companion had made a few modifications to the system, allowing it to transfer heat more effectively and quickly. The results, as he was now witnessing, made him smile.

Sometimes, he envied it. All too much.

Remembering that this bath wasn't for him, he turned to find Hunt sitting on his knees, gazing into either the distant ocean or the moon above. Most likely the moon, he figured.

"Whenever you want it." Alex announced.

But Hunt gestured Alex to approach. Hesitantly, Alex did so, and found himself sitting next to the former King of the Universe, gazing over the moonlit ocean. His mask and hood were removed, revealing his dark, blue outlined head underneath. A metal cap covered the upper part and back of his head, with a curved plate stretched out in front to overlap his mouth, leaving nothing left exposed but his two large, blue-glowing eyes in between.

"In my eyes," Hunt, or rather, the Unknown said, "Your friend, K, is merely an infant. He had been banished before he could receive his child-hood worth of training. I, however, had gone through with it. Extensively."

Alex listened. What was Hunt getting at now?

"I was no prodigy like he is." he continued, "I had to add in extra years just to perfect myself. Steadily, I grew, and I watched the universe age along with me."

"If you don't mind me asking," Alex said, "How old are you now?"

Hunt nodded. It was impossible to see any emotion with the mask on, but Alex knew that the face underneath wouldn't have done so anyways. Still, Alex was given a good idea that Hunt was slightly humoured by the question.

"If I was an elf," he said, "I'd be just over 180 years old."

"So you're still young, then." Alex said, nodding.

"And K would be about 2 and a half." he added.

Alex's eyes widened. Seriously? But, his incredible wisdom, flawless psychology, and grasp of the truth of the matter … did he mean to say that this was an adolescent giving him lectures on the ways of the universe?

On the other hand, considering K knew this much and was this wise, he would be a fool not to try to take advantage of the wisdom that this incredibly aged and experienced warrior had in him. Here, he had one of the oldest living beings sitting next to him, who had travelled the universe and interdimensional realms alike.

"Just so it's out of the way …" Hunt said, "I was never a perfect Guardian to begin with. So don't think this is all we've got as a race. If you were smart, you would never believe that you'll always have your way against them."

Alex nodded. Who was he to judge? It was only fairly recently that he found they had even existed. By all accounts, there were other mortals who bore much more significant skills than he did, and he accepted that. And if Hunt really wanted to, he could wipe Alex away with a mere snap of his fingers. He was just not as good with a weapon as he was, that's all. Thankfully, it had honour in the ring of battle, for otherwise Alex didn't doubt he would've been in an eternal torment long before they even fought for the first time.

Everybody's got their own strengths. He doubted Hunt knew the first thing about which herbs created which potions and had which natural effects on the mortal body. At the same time, Hunt could probably name all the planets and their respective Gods in the entire quadrant that Sartranomin resided in, where Alex knew only Sartranomin, and nobody else. Hunt didn't know the first thing about metallurgy, and Alex would never understand how the realm of the Unknown worked.

"I understand." Alex simply replied, hoping that Hunt probed his mind for the idea behind his understanding.

Hunt rose to his feet. Without warning, he suddenly leapt high into the air, flew backwards, and plunged headfirst into the bowl of boiling water. There was an incredible splash of water, and in the light of the large, glowing star overhead, Alex saw the water suddenly freeze on the spot, creating a series of large, icy pillars extending out the sides of the bowl.

Surprised of the speed of heat absorption, Alex hurriedly dashed to the furnace and threw in huge armloads of logs and coal into the fire, almost choking it in the process. Several more lightning bolts, and it roared into over-limit mode, making the bowl itself begin to glow a red-hot color. The pillars of ice slid back into the bowl, exploding into a blast of steam.

"You make a good heat tub." Hunt complimented from inside the mass of fallen ice pillars, "I'll give you that one."

Alex smiled. One last load of logs went in, and the furnace was at full capacity. This should sustain his guest for at least a few minutes. That was all he needed for now.

"I'll be inside." Alex said, "Just call if you need me."

"I'd better hope I don't." Hunt called back. It was clearly enjoying the bath, but it didn't want Alex to know it.

____________________________________

Alex approached the altar. It had undergone some serious redecoration since the last time, where Macan had to blow it up to stop the Unknown from tearing Alex's consciousness out of his armor.

It hardly looked like the stereotypical draped table-like altar. Four large, spiked pillars protruded up from the ground on either side, in bunches of two, safeguarding the large, cylindrical trapezoidal platform. The pillars themselves were tipped off in a sharp spike poking out of a round, spherical end, which joined their partner pillars by a solid pipe. Atop the platform was embedded a series of symbols, spun around in a spiral which ed to a small circle in the centre, which housed a star identical to the one on Alex's chest.

Alex jumped onto the platform and stood in the centre. He had a few guests inquire as to the purpose and meaning behind this strange-looking altar, but Alex simply said that it gave him a stronger connection to his Lord Saradomin. That was, indeed, the truth, but the Saradomin he was referring to was not the one his guests were expected to believe. His Lord Sartranomin, despite having the ability to replace his original father, had continued to remain behind the scenes. The world knew and sensed Saradomin's death, and suddenly reappearing from nowhere would impose suspicion - something that none of them wanted.

So instead, any communication with his Lord was done privately and only when required for whatever reason. And this reason, he hoped, was one such.

He sat on his knees and clasped one fist in a grip in front, pouring his energy down into the platform. The altar sparked to life - every grove, symbol, and etching suddenly glowing a bright white light. Between the two pairs of pillars, the spikes tipped off with large arcs of lightning, which bounced between themselves, shooting out in several directions.

Tilting his head downward, he closed his eyes and concentrated. The spheres on the pillars exploded into bright white orbs, which ex-pulsed a large, clear barrier all around the platform. The entire room was lit from the display, and the random sparking died down to leave smooth, clear, organized rays of light in their place.

His body still and immobile, Alex called out in his mind.

"Lord Sartranomin." he called.

He waited patiently, and after 5 minutes, he was finally rewarded.

"Allezyamos." came an all-too familiar voice.

Alex smiled, lowering his eye-brows slightly.

"Venosyvan." he acknowledged, "Usually you don't bother answering my summons. Is Sartranomin occupied?"

"He is not," Venos replied, "But that is not the concern. I am detecting a dark, menacing presence nearby you. Is everything all right?"

"It's fine." replied Alex, "I just have the Unknown in my hot tub."

Alex then took a moment to reflect on what he had just said. This was the first time anybody in the universe had probably ever said something like it, and for the rest of his life, he will most likely never get the opportunity to say it again. Just even saying it as it was sounded incredibly absurd, but at the same time, it was almost funny. "I have the Unknown in my hot tub". Yes, he felt he'd never let himself forget this moment.

Thank goodness Venos took nearly a minute to reply. Her shockingly-loud voice nearly stunned Alex.

"THE UNKNOWN?!?" she nearly screamed, "Alex, are you INSANE?!?"

"I'm having him fix the damage he did to our planet, Venos." Alex said directly, "Nothing more. Once that's done, then he goes as far away as he can from this place. I'll even call K to help drive him away ourselves if he doesn't want to leave."

"And you trust him?" Venos asked. This wasn't the first time she was skeptical of the Gods. Unlike the last one, however, she was right to suspect this one.

"I don't." Alex honestly said, "And I think me, out of anybody, has the most blatant reasons to never trust him without a spear pointed at his neck. But he is here upon my request, and I have my reasons for doing so."

Alex felt the platform rumble. Venos was seething.

"How many TIMES do I have to tell you?!?" she shouted, and Alex barely avoided flinching, "Do NOT bring in strangers to our world! You remember what happened with Zaros?"

"I do." Alex retaliated, "And Zaros was not my fault. I had nothing to do with him. K, however, I'll take full responsibility for, but he was a friend of mine long before you even heard of him. I had my reasons for trusting him, and look how it all turned out!"

"So what is this, then?" Venos asked, "You're testing me now by calling forth the demonic King of the Gods down for a spa treatment? What possible good will come out of HIM being there?"

"Venos, just accept my judgement of character for once," Alex sighed, "And let me contact Lord Sartranomin, will ya?"

He felt a harsh tingling in the back of his head. He heard Venos was about to invoke discipline, but then she was distracted by something else. Alex smiled out of relief. Despite not having any visual contact, he knew right then and there that his Lord Sartranomin was giving her a scolding. A part of him felt sorry for her, as she was definitely in the right that calling the Unknown to their planet was a stupid idea. Nevertheless, he just wished his sister game him a lot more respect and trust than she felt he deserved.

He was just able to hear her say, "But what if he'd been indoctrinated during the- … -could be controlled to- …", and he thought for a moment. Perhaps she was right. But then why would the Unknown want him to call it down to the planet just to replace the pieces of the planet it had taken away as the terms of loss of a fight-based gamble that it desperately wanted to win? Made no sense, no matter how he looked at it. He was definitely not under the Unknown's control.

Finally, the lecture was over, and the next voice he heard filled him with relief.

"Hello, Allezyamos." he heard his Lord say.

"Hey, Sartranomin." Alex replied, "I was hoping to keep this a surprise birthday present for you, but as usual, Venos spoiled everything."

"I think we can forgive her today." Sartranomin said. Then, there was a sudden silence, and Lord Sartranomin's tone suddenly changed.

"We've got an eavesdropper." he said.

Alex groaned and turned his head. As he suspected, Hunt was sitting on one of his chapel pews, hands clasped in an identical formation as his own.

"Forgive me if it seems rude," he heard Hunt's voice, "But I just wanted to make sure you both were not conspiring against me again."

"You're paranoid!" Alex retaliated, "I requested you here, so I'm giving you a chance."

"Right. 'Spear pointed at my neck', huh?" Hunt said, "Sounds to me like you want me hostage for some reason. I'm listening in, and you either allow this, or you silence yourself until I'm long gone and forgotten."

OK. That's it! That went too far! Alex stood up, and the beams of light faltered. Lightning began to spark from the orbs surrounding Alex, and the room grew darker by the second.

"HEY, YOU listen to me!" he shouted, pointing at Hunt while standing tall, "You tore chunks out of our planet, poisoned my Lord, killed my best friend as well as hundreds of Gods of the realm, nearly doomed the universe with a hastily made decision based off your own inability to not give into the promise of power, and you're accusing me, who is willing to forgive you enough to not slay you that one moment you lay helpless and vulnerable, of CONSPIRING against you? Of course I don't trust you! Heck, if you were incapable of fixing the damage you had done at all, I'd have had K force you to work in the dwarven mines for the rest of eternity while under tight sleepless guard! To think I had even gone so far as to have let you back on my planet! You're a soulless, immoral monster; an anomaly of even the Guardian's standard, and I hate you more than I hate any other imaginably hatable thing combined, but I am still giving you patience enough to let you remain free out of the last remaining smidgen of morality I can squeeze out for a wretch like you. All I want left out of you is that you repair the damage you did to our planet, and then I never want to see your shameful face again for the rest of eternity. That's it. No conspiracy. I want your reparations, and then I want you out! So if you know what's good for you, you will NOT talk back to me like that. This is OUR planet and Sartranomin's MY lord, so I think I can plenty well do whatever I want without limitations set by a guest's paranoid preference. Clear?"

Even the almighty and powerful Hunt found himself unable to retaliate. Alex then took three deep breaths, turned back, and clasped his hands harder, more to relieve the tension than anything.

"I sure hope Venos heard that." he muttered.

"I had never seen her eyes open that wide before." Sartranomin replied, no doubt impressed.

Another deep breath, and he was able to control his voice again.

"Onto business." he said, "And Hunt, if no other choice remains, you can listen as much as you want if you still don't believe me that it doesn't concern you."

Hunt remained immobile. Alex believed that he was still listening, but he wasn't giving any sign or acknowledgement that he was.

"First off," Alex asked, "Have you had any word from Macan?"

"Not as of last." Sartranomin replied, "He is still ambitiously searching in the quadrants even I am blind to as it is, but he is still following a proven hope. It's only an inevitability that he will find what he's looking for, one way or another."

"Glad he's having fun, then." Alex nodded. His rant against the Unknown was all but out of his mind now, and his personality was reverted once again back to the usual calm, patient, and slightly humorous.

"Second off, if I haven't already," he said, "I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. This one, in retrospect to the planet's cycles, is … what, two hundred …"

"Two hundred, twenty-seven thousand, nine hundred seventy-fourth." Sartranomin replied proudly.

Alex suddenly found himself willingly talking to Hunt again. Surprise, surprise.

"And that's pretty old for a God of the Realm, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes." Hunt replied, "Very old. He's probably got a few thousand years left, before which he will leave you and the planet to rot and die with him. Or, he will pass everything off to a successor. Probably a younger friend of his, like Zamcatristak once was."

Alex forced himself to not regard the gruesome past once again.

"He'll probably give us to Goryyarvyn [Gor-ee-yar-vine]." he nodded, "He loves that little guy like an uncle loves a nephew. Quite frankly, I wouldn't mind it one bit. Unlike Sartranomin, he's got a sense of humour I could get used to."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"I can still hear you, Allezyamos." Sartranomin muttered.

"Nothing but subliminal desire." Alex immediately replied, shrugging innocently.

Sartranomin attempted to retaliate, but Alex was faster.

"Thirdly, I'd like to talk to you about Lior." he said, and Sartranomin dropped the idea.

"Ah yes. Him. How's he doing?"

"For a creature that appeared almost out of nowhere, not too bad. Granted, it'll take a while for the humans to adjust to his presence, but that's the same with any God."

"Have you learned of his origin?"

"Not as of yet." Alex sadly replied, "I tried contacting him several times, but he seems to want to avoid me. I was wondering if you've made any attempts."

There was a pause. Alex took the time to shift his legs and make himself more comfortable upon the platform.

"I have not." was the reply.

"But if you're to take Saradomin's place in the near future," Alex advised, "You will have to come to some agreement with him."

"All in due time, Allezyamos." Sartranomin replied.

Alex imagined Vemos must've been smirking then. Since Alex was hardly contacting Sartaranomin anymore, he was left to his own devices and, much to Alex's demise, his own secrets as well. But that was all right, as this allowed Alex to keep his own secrets from Lord Sartranomin, and every so often, they would trade them off with each other in game or sport, seeing as there was otherwise no proper currency within the realm.

A thought hit Alex, and he turned to face the figure flipping his feet atop the backrest of the pew for a more laid-back, spoiled sort of manner.

"Now, you." he ordered, "I want you to look me square in the eyes and tell me that he's not one of yours."

"He is not." Hunt replied without hesitation, squinting his eyes slightly, "I have no agents anymore. I released them all in exchange that the other Gods let me go, so long as I forever leave the God Realm and never return. I'll be touring the universe the long, cold way from now on."

Alex frowned. If the Unknown was trying to get sympathy from him, it had failed more miserably than a mischief adolescent getting 0% on an exam he actually tried studying for.

"Is that everything you wanted?" Sartranomin asked.

Alex thought hard. Was he forgetting something? … no, perhaps he wasn't.

"Because I have something for you." Sartranomin said, "An assignment. Something to be done immediately."

Alex closed his eyes. Not again. He already told his Lord that he wasn't having anything left to do with the humans. He was not going to fight their wars for them anymore.

"It's not an offer this time." Sartranomin replied to his rebellious thought, "This time, it's a direct order."

"I thought you had released us." Alex complained.

"I released you from your duties to watch the planet." Sartranomin replied, "But you are still my agents. I give you my power to keep you alive, so I expect something in return. Plus, now that I no longer have Saradomin, you are going to have to momentarily take his place until we can get it established to the mortals that Saradomin is still alive."

Behind him, he heard that Hunt started laughing. Yeah, go ahead and laugh at my expense. Once I get the opportunity to rub something back in your face, I will.

"Can it wait a few days?" he directly asked, "At least until the Unknown finished the reparations?"

"It cannot." Sartranomin replied, "In fact, I suggest you take him with you, so you may keep a proper watch on him at all times!"

Alex's eyes went wide. Hunt immediately stopped laughing.

"I am NOT going with him to the humans!" he argued.

That was fine with him. For once, he agreed with the monster.

"Well, then that's too bad. If he's not going, then I'm afraid I cannot-"

"YOU HAVE NO CHOICE!"

Alex jumped. The Unknown, however, simply frowned, but before it could say anything, Sartranomin continued.

"Alex, you are my agent, so I want you to take some responsibility." he lectured, "I let you do your own thing for a long time, and I don't think I'm even asking very much with this assignment."

"And to the Unknown:" he continued, "You WILL go with Alex, and you WILL get along with the humans there."

"Or what?"

"I have contact with K." Sartranomin didn't even skip a beat, "Not to mention the entire realm against you. You had promised to avert your ways, so if you don't make the effort to redeem yourself to the realm, I will let them all know, and there WILL be further consequence upon you!"

Alex forced himself not to react. Deep down, he knew that this was a bluff. Indeed, he did have the realm backing him up should the Unknown cause trouble, but neither he nor Sartranomin had heard from K after he stepped out the doors to his hovel with Daemreyuant for the last time. From the Unknown's loss of power and initial meeting, he learned that K was successful in releasing the Great 95 that Daem had sealed away and was dealt with accordingly, but since then, not even a note was left detailing where K was going to vanish to for the rest of his existence. For now, though, Alex continued to figure that he was simply too busy getting preparations ready for his own start at creating universal unity.

He wasn't worried. K was the kind of personality that he would definitely see again soon.

Surprisingly, the Unknown did not call Sartranomin's bluff. K had indeed given it the most trouble during the past battles, and considering it was unable to deal with Alex earlier on, it figured it would stand no chance against the Cosmic Guardian. Especially with the entire realm backing him up this time. So instead, it had wisely backed down with a few illegible mutters before finally agreeing to the side-tracking field trip.

"Fine, then. I will stay by your agent." the Unknown promised, "But if I am provoked by the humans, I WILL defend myself and teach them their place."

"I don't doubt the humans would be capable of handling you." Sartranomin confidently replied, "But you will benefit by staying your temper and learning your own place while you're at it."

Deciding it didn't want to hear anymore on it, the Unknown released its hands and stood up, severing its connection with Alex and Sartranomin. It then turned and left the building, and Alex thought about giving chase for a moment, but after hearing a loud splash, he smiled with relief and returned to his concentration.

"I'd rather not be around if the flames die down," he said, "So give it to me straight. What do I have to do?"

Sartranomin began to tell him, starting with the recent events and reparations of the mainland kingdoms, and ending with the threat coming from the wilderness. Forces were at work here. Once that were not Sartranomin's doing. Alex's eyes squinted as he casually gazed up toward the stained glass window glowing from the moonlight behind it.

So that's how it was, huh? Might even be fun.

And Sartranomin knows how much he likes to have fun.

momsrascal93 · **Posted:** March 8th, 2011, 9:40 pm

For Lawrence, meetings with his subordinates were always sort of a secret event, especially when he met with Ace, his head of reconnaissance.

The technology they gained to keep an eye on Dulcien had become rather advanced. This technology came in the form of gliders that could become invisible by magically bending light around them(Kate and Magmus developed this stealth system themselves), and soon would come in stealthy submersibles to watch the seas. They used these things to track Dulcien's movements. With the gliders there is a major flaw with this method. In the glider's, only the surface of Dulcien's operations could be viewed. This means that Lawrence can't learn what Dulcien plans to do next, or how many soldiers he has at his disposal.

It was agreed among all of them that sending in a spy was simply too risky, as everyone was supposed to think they are dead so the best they could do for the time being is observation. The technology was actually stolen from the gnomes and the dwarves. Lawrence simply had the designs modified to fit their purposes.

"Lawrence, I think we should start keeping an eye on the seas as well. We saw that Dulcien was building himself quite a navy. He wouldn't have a navy if he wasn't going to use it right?" Ace suggested. "What about those submersibles? Are they ready yet?" He asked.

"Sadly, only one of them is complete. We are forced to work slowly." He explained. "If you can make do with what we currently have, then you may do whatever you feel you need to do." He said. Ace nodded slowly as if to accept Lawrence's offer.

"Very well. We will try to keep an eye on Dulcien from the seas with what we have." Ace said.

Adbot · **Posted:** March 8th, 2011, 9:40 pm

Alex 43 · **Posted:** March 13th, 2011, 10:50 pm

... all right. I think I may have convinced Karl to rejoin us, though I don't know for how long.

Nevertheless, since I'm still waiting for the plot to begin, I think I'll throw up a quick little character development side-quest for Nuli. The little guy deserves it.

Name: Nulirathra (Nuli)
Gender: Male
Age: 1 and a half years.
Race: White Dragon Hybrid
Alignment: Saradomin (Sartranomin)
Weapons: Self-defence lightning-beam breath, claws, and modified tail fin.
Armor: White dragon scales.
Strengths: Small, nimble, and intelligently adaptive.
Weaknesses: By Gia's last request, Alex had not taught Nuli the ways of combat, and he has yet to experience battle.
Physical Description: A small, lizard-like winged quadrupedal dragon, roughly the size of an adult dog, yet small and light enough to be Alex's shoulder-pet (which he often is). Has three fin-spikes sweeping back on his head between his two sharp, swept-back horns and large, glowing eyes with curious yellow pupils. Due to age, his head is considerably large compared to his small, thin, developing body. folded up, his wings are merely the size of a small backpack on his back, but extended, they span nearly twice his size. Slight, dull bony protrusions jut out of his leg joints, which end in tri-claws that include an interestingly detached thumb-like extension on the inner sides, which he uses for that exact purpose. His tail ends off in a spade-tip, extending fluidly from his spine, and aside from head and tail, no other fins are present. The one at the tip of his tail, however, he stiffened it with a chemical, and notched out several groves and twists to turn it into a tool by itself. For example, he notched several places on one edge, keeping it sharp enough to saw through wood. His scales, being a bright crystal white, are as transparent as diamonds, and yet reveal nothing but a thinner, white undertone, covering his skin underneath. Stretching from under his neck down his chest to the end of his tail is a tough, leather-like section; the usual vulnerable areas of a dragon, but unless you can get past the lightning-focused breath which, unlike his father's blast of sparks, is much more refined and focused for added range and direct power, don't count on exploiting this weakness.
Personality: Due to the discrepancies of being the offspring of an ancient 100 000 year old dragon breeding with a modern day one, side effects are present. For one, Nuli does not have a voice box, and cannot either speak nor roar the ancient dialect, resulting in the only communication he can make either emotionally or externally, like tapping or writing. Nevertheless, he will always find a way to make his point discovered, either through his bondings with Alex, or simply through subliminal gesture. For this reason, he had taken interest in psychology; learning to tinker with the predictable mind and make it react accordingly. Nuli is exceedingly curious and analytical, taking interest in the most minor of details and attempting to understand even the unnecessary. Despite his nature of being a young dragon, Nuli is incredibly obedient and mature for his age, avoiding childish pranks and scenes altogether in exchange for respect and appreciation, and he takes discipline to heart without a second telling.
History: Being a young White Dragonyte, he doesn't have much history. Gia had helped support an injured female blue dragon they had encountered and brought back to the SWC, and them both knowing that she wasn't going to make it, he agreed to her final wish of having a child in the world. As a result, Gia had mated with her, and she succeeded in producing and fertilizing a dragon egg before passing away. Keeping it a secret from Alex, Gia dubbed it his "master project" and spent many hours in secret hatching the egg and caring for the offspring while Alex remained in the dark of his existence. Upon his death, he left Nuli's discovery purely on his interpretation of Alex's curiosity, which in the end, payed off with success. No longer with any remaining parents, Nuli was instead raised by Alex, who trained him in the arts of metallurgy and construction, while neglecting teaching Nuli of combat, as Gia would've wanted. However, Nuli had also taken interest in astrology and the mysteries behind the scientific views of the realm of reality, and to Alex's surprise, began using logic and psychology to outwit his opponents without the need for physical confrontation. This has made Nuli an incredibly tactical, behind-the-scenes observer. Nevertheless, Nuli has yet to experience any real battle; having so far only used his tactic to help Alex with minor tasks and favors.

… dang. Only 1 and a half years old, and I still wrote down more back-story for Nuli than Alex. … but then again, most of Alex's back-story comes from War of Lore, and he's an already-developed character unlike the brand spanking' new Nuli, so go read that if you want to appease yourself.

______________________________________________

ZANARIS
______________________________________________

Fairy Whael pressed her body behind the pillar, listening intently to the conversation. They didn't know she was here, and and change of status would result in dire consequence. Most likely, her getting her wings torn off and shoved down her throat. Ooh, that was not even the worst scenario she could think of, and even that rattled her nerves. No! Don't think of failure! Focus, she told herself. Focus! The Queen was in danger! If she failed, then her majesty would fall along with her! Everything was dependant on her success!

They stopped talking, and she dared herself to take a peak around the corner. She was up at a high, somewhat awkward angle to the scene, so it was unlikely that any one of the light-brown hooded beings would glance up at her; especially since they kept their hoods so far down their heads that they had to lean their backs backward slightly just to see in front of them. The pillar slowly gave way, and once she saw the tinge of brown appear from behind, she shot back to the safety of the shadows, forcing deep, shallow breaths. They had very good hearing, so she knew that anything louder and she would've exposed herself.

Fortunately, there was no reaction. One of them muttered, but it was something to do with its comrade's claws. She crept back along the upper rim of the pillar, keeping her footing as best she could. Of all the days to wear high-heels, she cursed herself. Of course, who was she to know that they would pick her to spy on them? Such a serious circumstance, she'd think they'd choose somebody more experienced. The only real reason they picked her is because of her own very good hearing. Trying to keep the tapping down to a minimum and avoiding using her wings altogether, she made her way to the other end of the pillar. It was much darker on this side, and therefore, she's be able to get a better look at the situation.

Upon getting close enough to peer around, she once again forced herself to focus, and with a nervous grip on a protruding stone, she peered around the pillar. Suddenly, she saw a tinge of light brown robe again, but she forced herself to continue. Soon, a figure emerged from behind the pillar. Then another. Then another. A total of seven of them, and they were all there. Three of them were standing guard around a fourth, and a fifth was peering down the entrance to the cavern. The final two of them were holding a large box between themselves, which was covered in small holes along the upper rim, and covered in chains. Despite it being shrouded in darkness, Whael knew exactly what the precious cargo of that box was.

One of the figures, wearing a black trim around its robes, tapped its staff on the ground twice for attention, and the rings of mushrooms next to him sparked slightly. That was the leader. It was going to speak, and she had to make sure she was listening to this. This was it; the reason she was here. Eavesdrop on the leader's instructions and report back. Learn where they were heading next. Nothing else. Once the location was down, the others would set up a trap there and ambush them when they teleported. That was the objective as it was explained to her. She had the easy job. No problem.

"Did we lose them, scout?" he spoke, in a deep growl of a voice. Squinting slightly, Whael noticed it was a man's mouth that said it. Interesting that the creature didn't have a man's mouth not two minutes ago.

The one peering down the entrance jerked his head slightly to the side, decided that what he thought he saw was nothing, and crept back to the rest on all fours.

"Is good." it hissed, in a more sinister-sounding dialect, "They gone."

The leader lowered his hood, exposing the short grey hair covering the majority of his face and head, and squinted towards the pillars to his left. Despite it being the opposite direction, Whael took cover, forcing herself silence until she heard casual speaking again.

"Almost too easy." he muttered, "As though they gave up the chase."

"Tha's good, eh?" one of his guards spoke up, shrugging, "They's scared of us."

"No, you fool!" the leader barked, threatening to whack it with the staff, "This is their queen we stole! They would not abandon her lightly! Do NOT drop your guard!"

She heard loud sniffing. Shoot, did she have a scent? Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and held it. She forced self-confidence on herself. I will be fine, she told herself over and over. There are too many mushrooms and shrubs around the ground for her smell to be distinguishable.

Five minutes felt like five days, but after they had passed for either side, the leader spoke up again.

"Gather, everyone."

The seven robed figures huddled together, standing just beside the newly operational fairy ring. Such a horrifyingly crude piece of work. The mushrooms had been planted by a hired adventurer, who had also told them about the hidden cavern and fetched them the staff from Entrana in exchange for a few undeserved gold coins. They didn't know where the scoundrel was now, but it was no longer the concern. Using the staff and the ring, the figures had warped into Zanaris with the staff, caught the fairies by total surprise, and amidst the confusion, grabbed the queen and bolted. There were originally a dozen of them, but their resistance had all but paid off. They had escaped here after they shut down the main ring, and now they were literally one step away from getting back into their homeland.

But that's where the complication rose. For the ring to work on multiple targets, they had to sync their minds. They all had to know exactly where they were teleporting. She therefore had full confidence that their leader was going to inform them all of the location to make sure none of them were left behind. They only had one dramen staff, after all, and therefore, only one chance to escape. They will take their time here. Hopefully, it will be enough for her to get back, alert the rest, and get an ambush set up in time. If it wasn't … then they'll lose the queen.

No. They'll lose much more than just the queen.

Whael listened. No need to peek behind the pillar anymore. They were all there, and they were huddled. Now, she just had to focus her senses and try to hear them as perfectly as she could.

"All right, ya lot, listen up." she heard the leader's voice. It was hushed, but not enough. Odd, she thought. She heard that werewolves usually have incredible hearing. Perhaps this was just the lowest their leader could intelligibly whisper.

"This is the easy part." he hissed, "We get to Canifis, we're home-free, and those foolish fairies have already helped us with that. We've got one of several of those rings in our land to choose from. All we need to do now is pick which one."

One of the guards spoke up again. It didn't sound like the guard that got whacked earlier, but it did sound equally as deserving.

"Tha's no problem. I saw theres one o' them rings front o' the tower. Jus' a brisk trot from there."

"Yeah, we all know where't is." another agreed, "Easy part indeed, s' what are we waitn' for?"

She heard a duet of loud slapping sounds, as well as grunts of pain.

"You fools! Think about this!" the leader barked, "I told you to not drop your guard! If you nitwits had brains, you'd think about this!"

She heard pathetic whimpering, and forced herself not to giggle.

"The reason they haven't been chasing us here is because they know there's a ring here." he hissed "Otherwise we can't escape from this realm. And if they stopped chasing us altogether, there's only one reason for that."

A long pause. A voice she had not heard yet broke the silence with his bravado.

"Cuz they getting' ready te' ambush us?" he asked.

The leader groaned.

"I see at least somebody's got half-a stick for a brain." he muttered, "Yes. This ring is our ticket outta here, but it's also their last chance to catch us. We don't know what's on the other end. If they really wanna save their queen, they'll have set up in the place they'd figure we'd show up. That being, the closest ring to Canifis!"

"Then le's hurry! Where d' we go?"

Here it came. She closed her eyes and focused hard. She heard a mild ruffling of robes, and then the leader spoke.

"Everyone, we are going to the ring in the Woods." he announced.

"Ah! Cuz we gots more cover there and stay hidden?"

"Exactly. Plus, it's at the other end of the village. That ambush will be looking' pretty dumb when they rot out there, waiting' for us. Course we'll already be at the bar, drinking mead and laughing the moon out of the sky."

She heard them laugh. This was it. That was their plan. She had to get out now, and warn the others. Risking a peek, she checked to see where they were looking. Their boss was kicking the box, and the 5 others were watching, hoping to take turns. If she was getting out, now was the time.

… wait. 5 underlings and one leader … that was six … wasn't there supposed to be-

Suddenly, she felt a chill up her spine. A shadow loomed over her. Rigid in fear, she slowly turned around, expecting the worst. She was not disappointed; no sooner then she made eye contact with his brown robes, the one known as "scout" shot a clawed hand right at her at unreachable speed and yanked her off the pillar by her wings between two claws, holding her up precariously in front of his face.

"Surprise!" he hissed, bearing his canine fangs victoriously.

_________________________

Everything seem to just fall apart. The world as she knew it. Everything she thought to be right was wrong. All hope seemed to just snuff itself out like a candle in a tornado.

Though she was only in the shadows for a few minutes, the light felt like it was burning her skin. Against her will, she was pulled out of hiding by her wings and exposed to the curious eyes of all the other werewolves, looking eagerly at their new prisoner.

"Check it, boss." Scout said, dangling her in front, "You was right."

"Of course I was!" their leader said, approaching, "They don't call me Fran the Brain-Pan for nothing."

He grabbed her by her waist; his fingers enclosing completely around her tiny frame. She shrieked and pounded her fists for a moment before she felt hard, merciless draymen wood press against her chin in one, swift blunt motion. The blow felt like it broke most of her teeth, and she dared not unclench in fear they would fall out.

"Search the room!" he bellowed, and the six darted around, sniffing corners and peering around pillars. The search didn't take long at all. In a manner of seconds, they reported back with the all-clear.

"You call yourself a spy?" Fran asked, flicking his trimmed robes back and holding her up close to his humanoid face, "Your perfume was so strong I smelled you coming in. Your heart also beat so hard I thought somebody was playing a set of drums in the next room. And what the heck do THESE serve in the stealth arts?"

He was flicking a nail at her shoes, knocking them both off. The other werewolves laughed. Save for one, who was too busy asking a question.

"Hey, if they're spyin' on us, does that mean they don't know where we'll go?"

Fran, who wan't laughing to begin with, had no trouble disciplining the inquirer.

"Duh! You imbecile! All this is is proof that they're gonna be ambushing us! Why else would they plant an ear at the route of our escape?"

Nobody spoke. The claw that was gripping her tightened, and she found it difficult to breathe. But it loosened slightly, and she felt she was getting shaken slightly. Her captor was chuckling.

"Those fools. They thought we were stupid!" he laughed, "Look at this! This is the best they can do? Does their queen really mean nothing to them?"

Whael lost all confidence in herself. She was shivering, and unable to move her body altogether. She wanted it all to just stop now.

Fran gestured everyone to gather around closely, and he whispered so silently that Whael came to the realization that their plan she heard earlier was a complete fabrication. He had intended to speak just loud enough for her to hear him.

"Just so your thick heads can understand it." Fran said, "We are NOT going to the Haunted Woods."

"So where we go?"

Fran gave one last check around to ensure there really wasn't a backup spy. Confident that they were truly in secrecy, he spoke.

"The fairy ring in Mort Myre."

All six underlings jumped.

"WHAA! THERE?!?" they shouted.

"What? Aww, afraid to get slime between your paws?" he jeered, "Or did you all not memorize its location? Are you forgetting the reason why I hired you lot in the first place?"

They immediately silenced. None of them had an excuse. They all knew exactly where the ring was.

"Think about it! It's our safest option!" Fran explained, "The enemy is smart, and wants to ambush us. I faked that we do the Haunted Woods because in reality, it's the least ideal area for us. There's so many trees there that an ambush would be no problem, so they wouldn't need many forces. Think, for a moment, as though you were our enemy.

First, let's pretend they think we're dumb. If this was all they had against us, they have completely underestimated us. But we had just snuck into Zanaris, and with one quick move, we swiped the queen from under their noses. This will not be the case, guaranteed, or we'll have an easy time regardless of our decision. They aren't that stupid.

But what if they wanted us to think that? For example, maybe this fairy was a decoy, and meant to be discovered while the real spy had already got away!"

Whael froze in terror. She had never thought of that. Her good hearing was perhaps the only reason she was sent in the first place. Now that she thought of it, wearing high heels and perfume, she was the worst possible fairy to send to spy on perhaps any enemy, forget werewolves. Did they really want her to be a decoy?

"If she was just a decoy, and the real spy had got away with the information, they'd wait for us there guaranteed!

Now, let's pretend they think we're smart. They are anticipating Canifis as well, in case we had a change of plan, or if they were anticipating that we'd catch the spy, we'd change our plan to Canifis, as they'd believe we're smart enough to think that they don't have an ambush there after all. Therefore, we can assume both those locations might be covered!

But what about the swamp? It's flat, and there are very few places to hide for an ambush. It's out of the way, open-fielded, and a considerable distance from the safety of our home. We would also have a terrain disadvantage. If they thought we were dumb, we'd never think of going to the swamp. If they thought we were smart, we wouldn't go there anyways because it's hard to move around, and they can fly. Plus, it's a danger to us as well as everyone else, so they wouldn't think we'd enter dangerous territory. Out of the question! And even if they did have the guts, let's also not forget the ghosts, and those fairies don't have much in terms of energy. They'd all get sucked dry before we'd even get there."

"But … the vyrewatch!"

"Yeah? What about them?" he asked, then in a large bound, he jumped onto the large chained box and sat cross-legged on it, "Look what we have here! We were gonna turn it over to Lord Draken anyways, so if they catch us, alls we gotta do is request an audience with him. Let them know we've got a gift for his unholiness."

He tapped the box confidently with a smirk.

"One look inside this, and they'll be all to happy to abloige. They'll probably even give us a formal escort and let us stay the night in the castle!"

There was anticipation within the ranks. Apparently staying in the castle was an honour too great to pass up. Especially since they had a meal ticket with such incredible calibre that not even the Lord Draken would want to pass up without some reward.

"Boss, you're the best!" one of the previously slapped guards complimented.

"The fairies were also too kind to give us a sacrifice here." Fran added, "What do y'all say I grind it up and use it as a seasoning for our next soup? Probably taste real spicy."

This time, they all laughed. Her head was pounding with every burst of laughter. She felt cold. Naked. Helpless. Nothing she could do would help her escape this horrifying situation. She wished she was still at him. That none of this ever happened. She wished, from the bottom of her heart, that she could just wake up from this all. Then she wished that she was dead.

Suddenly, she felt a powerful blow to the head, and a blast of stars overwhelmed her vision. She rubbed her head tenderly, and the world came back into view. She was in a large, dark box with holes of light coming from the top; barely enough to illuminate everything around her. That everything, of course, being the Fairy Queen. She had been thrown into the box along with her.

Her majesty was awake, and conscious, but without energy. She lay on her side in her tattered up gown, having endured a very rough experience not too long ago. Whael couldn't bring herself to keep eye contact. She dropped to her knees and covered her face with her hands; her wings drooping down in shame.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, unable to fight back tears, "I've failed you. I'm so sorry."

A caring hand rested on her shoulder. She smiled.

"You tried." she whispered back, fighting pain, "I thank you for that."

The box shook. The two carriers had hoisted it up, having just finished chaining it back closed. Whael drove herself to climb up and peek through the hole in the top. She could see all the figures gathering around their leader, who was holding the staff high into the air. He muttered out something, but the acoustics inside the box made the outside noises too muffled to hear properly. The others roared victoriously. Fran slammed the staff to the ground, and a wave of bright light flowed around them, showering them in an array of different colors. She felt herself getting very light, and gravity seemed to vanish for a moment.

*THUNK!*

All the light vanished, and she was launched back down to the ground. She couldn't see anything. Her majesty's crown had a faint glow to it, but that was about it.

She didn't want to know what was happening, but her body couldn't resist it. She found herself climbing up to the hole again and peering through helplessly. There they were, in Mort Myre swamp. A dim, green light glowed over the horizon; just enough for her to make out the shapes of her captors with their weapons out and ready, expecting an ambush despite the confident accusations of Fran.

Minutes passed, and with each one, the world seemed to just grow darker and darker. Within the hour, she would be entirely at the mercy of a town full of werewolves. Or vampires. Or ghosts. Or ghouls. She didn't even know anymore. They might as well all just bundle in one room and tear all her clothes off while prodding her with sticks and laughing non-stop. Her body grew incredibly numb, and she felt herself slowly fall down again. She hit her head again on the bottom of the box, but she didn't feel it anymore.

She lay on the floor of the box. She couldn't move. Her senses were dulled, and she could only just hear Fran's voice calling out in glee. The others roared in victory. She felt the box lift back up. It began to shake.

Her mind wasn't on what was happening around her anymore. All it was now was what was going to happen. Torture. Torment. Screams of agony. Even now, she could hear the loud whipping strike her. She could feel herself getting thrown to the ground in a dark, cold cell. Around her, yells of pain and suffering, and she was going to be next. Forget the queen, she had it lucky. She was a monarch, after all. What was she? Nothing. She was nothing but a chew-toy to these beasts.

*BOOOM!*

A loud rumbling?!? No, she didn't want to think about what would've caused that. She didn't want to think about anything anymore!

She didn't know how much time had passed. Time? Who cared? Everything took an eternity for her now. She was waiting for a long time. Stop waiting, she wanted to cry out. Just get it done! Please! The torture was going to hurt a lot, but it wouldn't be nearly as painful as this wait. Her imagination was doing an incredibly job at torturing her to begin with.

*SLASH!*

Finally! FINALLY! With the glow of the queen's crown, he saw a large, slime-covered set of claws pierce the box walls and begin to tear downwards. Her nostrils were filled with the horrid scent of blood. This was it. No matter what, it will all be over when they decide to finish her off.

… no. Forget that! Forget them! She'll just kill herself instead! Yes! It was brilliant! If she was dead, they could do all they wanted with her body. Let it rot! Let THEM rot! Perfect!

A sharp object. That would do it. One quick jab in the chest. What's sharp in here? The crown! Yes, it was her only source of light. It was her only source of salvation!

*FLASH!*

Augh! The light! She couldn't see. It burned her eyes, and she thrust both hands in front, dropping the crown. What was happening? What was her mind doing to her? Forcing herself to focus, she stared into the light and made out a silhouette of the creature that was pulling the box wall off with its claws.

It was an angel! A sparking white angel, with great wings that slowly retracted. Her salvation! Like a dream coming forth through the darkness. Finally, her prayers were answered!

"Please!" she shouted, "Take me away from this nightmare! Release me from this torment!"

The angel tilted its head, confused. Wait a minute, she thought. Angels don't have horns. And aren't their wings all feathery rather than bat-like? What kind of angel was this?

It turned its head slightly to look at … oh yeah, there was somebody else inside with her. The Fairy Queen. Yeah, that's right. Her senses were slowly returning. Where was she? A box, in the midst of a swamp. Mort Myre. She had been captured by a bunch of werewolves. Hey, where were they, anyways?

Her eyes adjusted to the light, and everything melded back into view. She saw the Fairy Queen slowly bring herself to her feet. A claw coming from the angel reached through the hole in the box, hooked the crown, and gently offered it to her majesty. She used it to pull herself up, then pulled the crown off and placed it back onto her head. Smiling hopefully, she gripped the claw with both hands, and it lifted her weaken body up and pulled her out of the box. For a moment, the light vanished, and she was shrouded in darkness once again, and Whael began to panic once again, but it suddenly returned, clasping its claws around the hole and pulling. With a burst of effort, it tore the wall entirely out of the box, revealing the swamp behind it.

Her mind was suddenly overwhelmed, and she fainted.

_________________________________

First, it was black. Then, it was white. Whael's eyes once again adjusted to the light. It didn't hurt this time.

She was in a bed. She felt the soft pillow behind her head, pushed the thick blanket covering her upward, bounced a bit on her feather-filled mattress. Wait. The feel … the colors … this was not just any bed. This was HER bed!

Her bed! She was sleeping. She suddenly rose up, gasping for breath. This was her house, all right. All her trinkets and belongings hung in their designated places, and she smelled the familiar smell of boiling chocolate wafting through the open window.

She was not in a dark box, about to be carried off into the land of monsters to become a slave of amusement. She was in her bed, and she was awake.

What a nightmare! Thank goodness that's all it was.

"Fairy Whael!"

She knew that voice! Her friend! She was peeking through the window next to the door! Without any hesitation, she jumped out of bed, threw on a robe, and opened the door for her.

"Hi!" she greeting, "How are y-"

*OOMPH!*

The air was squeezed out of her as her friend embraced her in the tightest hug she had ever endured.

"I was so worried!" she half-shouted, "I thought they were going to boil you up!"

Her chest tensed up, and she coughed loudly. Restraining herself, her friend backed off, giving her space.

"What?" she asked, barely able to gasp out the words, "What are … you talking about?"

"The werewolves!" she half-shouted, "They had taken the queen and captured you as well! I thought you were both going to die!"

It was a miracle she didn't faint this time. Everything seemed to just stretch around her in a colourful blur of nothingness.

"Are you feeling all right?" her friend broke the silence and snapped her back to reality.

"Uh, yes." she lied, "I'm fine. Really. No problem."

"Then come on!" she said, pulling her by the arm, "The Queen has summoned you!"

She couldn't think. Her mind was too unstable to reject being pulled out of her hovel in nothing but a robe. Her mind with clouded with only three thoughts.

What. Is. Happening?

______________

The small, white-scaled dragon was the centre of attention. In the midst of an incredibly large crowd of fairies, fluttering around at all angles, it was difficult for such a different being not to be. It sat in the middle of the room, directly in front of the throne where their queen sat, wearing a brand new velvet gown with a large cup of hot, rejuvenating nectar beside her on the red, cushioned armrest of her almost overly-comfortable looking throne.

Whael knew this dragon. It was the one who gave her the assignment to spy on the werewolves in her dream. It was the one that they had been trusting to help save the queen!

… what was it doing here?

"There she is!" someone called out. Its head turned toward her, and Whael experienced a flash of white from its eyes before they dimmed enough for her to make out large, yellow pupils. It was smiling, and its smile was complimented with the roar of thunderous applause from the crowd surrounding them all.

"Quick! Let's get a picture!" somebody behind her said, and before she could react, she was getting push from behind closer to the friendly-looking beast. Everything seemed to just fast-forward, and there was a blur of light from the pushing around along with a lot of white noise from the loud applause overcoming her senses. By the time she recovered, she found herself mounted on the dragon's back with her body in a pose it came up with on its own as a row of fairies fluttered around, taking snapshots of the duo.

The dragon looked up at its rider, and its eyes widened. It had apparently noticed something about her, because it had then suddenly charged at the photographers with her clinging onto the scales on the back of its neck. They scattered, and the crowd grew deathly silent in surprise. Using a wing, he scooped the wreck of a fairy off his back and laid her down onto the ground, using the other wing to gently fan air into her face.

Everything returned to focus, and she could think again. The dragon gave a mean look to the regathering photographers, and they decided to simply keep their distance. The crowd started a soft applause, and the environment was much better for Whael to regain her grasp on reality.

"What happened?" she asked, "This … wasn't this a dream?" she asked.

The Fairy Queen rose from her seat and approached Whael. The crowd had done deathly silent, and her head didn't hurt as much anymore.

"He saved us, my dear." her highness said, putting her hand on Whael's shoulder again, "He saved both our lives. All by himself."

Whael looked over. The dragon nodded at her, regaining its confident smile.

Seriously?

"Fairy Dumm," she said, turning to her scribe, "You got the story from us both. Let them all hear it while she takes a break."

"Yes, my lady." the thin, somewhat clumsy-looking male fairy bowed. It trotted over to the throne, grabbed a stack of papers from an endurable beside it (spilling the rest of the nectar by mistake), and taking off into the centre of the room while fumbling with them.

_________________________

THIS IS WHAT HAD HAPPENED
_________________________

"Did you get the adamantite warrior, Veek?" Fairy Very Wise asked. Although, she figured she know the answer already. The messenger floated in front of her, flying somewhat awkwardly, and the only presence of an outside race was the small, young, obedient-looking dragon sitting patiently behind him. Granted, she had never seen a dragon with white scales before, but she had heard of one being affiliated with the adamantite warrior. By the stories she had been told, she had envisioned a mighty, robust, sword-wielding brute of a warrior, ready to charge into endless and hopeless battle if merely to distract but for a second. Instead, she got something she doubted would even last a second.

The little dragon listened intently, despite the argument not directly involving it. Its large, glowing white eyes flashed for a moment before dulling to expose large, yellow innocent pupils. Long, thick spines jutted back out of his head alongside two sharp horns, arced downward slightly and as white as the scales on his mid-length snout. Not too long and sharp, but not stubby, either. Its lizard-like body, somewhat small and shrimpy compared to his head, sat upright like a dog would, and occasionally it would twitch one of its large, leathery wings to stay balanced and comfortable. Around his scaly body, strung over his leather-like chest pads, was strung a small, backpack-like pouch, tucked under his folded wings. The only thing Fairy Wise was remotely interested in was its tail, composed of a large, sharp arrowhead-shaped fin, but it had been hardened by some kind of chemical substance and notched into, creating a set of identifiable tools. Part of the spade-spike was cut off and thickened slightly to create a chisel, and one side of the fin was sharpened to knife sharpness. The other side contained several evenly cut and spaced notches, spiked and slightly askew to create a saw. Two other, bone-like protrusions jutted out the perpendicular sides of the tip of his tail - one of them slightly hollowed to create a handle, and the other bulging slightly with added weight, probably for use as a hammer.

Sure, it carried its own personal toolkit around, and no doubt had enough intelligence to build its own menagerie penthouse, but that wasn't what they needed at the moment. They didn't need a dog-house.

They needed a dog-slayer.

"I couldn't." Fairy Veek the messenger replied, "He was in a drastic hurry to get somewhere, and couldn't avert his plans even for such a serious situation! However, his pet joined us in his place, so that's better than noth-"

*HISSS!*

Both of them flinched. The White Dragon was objecting to the word pet, and it gave them both a glare that commanded respect. It was small, but compared to the Fairies, it was just larger than a horse, and if need be, he could even serve as one.

"What could possibly be more important than the kidnapping of our queen?" Wise asked, throwing her hands up in the air in panic.

"Uh, he never said. Honest. But, the warrior said that his pe- uh, sorry, that … what was it- Nuli! He said Nuli here would be able to help us!"

"WHAT? How can a baby dragon help us?" Wise half-shouted, getting right into Veek's face, "We need manpower! We need-"

*Plap*

Both fairies looked. Nuli had produced a sheet of papyrus on a large pad with a series of scribbles on it, sketched with a stick of charcoal. His pouch, now empty, lay neatly folded on the ground. A crown was sketched inside a bag, which was being "carried" by a large question mark. Fairy Wise took a moment to think before understanding that the dragon wanted to know what had captured their queen.

"Werewolves." Wise replied, trying to avoid taking her eyes off the messenger, "The queen was kidnapped by werewolves. There are seven of them, and they are big ones too!"

Wise only had enough time to turn back to her primary target before Nuli added a door-frame with a question mark inside where the door should be and series of arrows pointing towards it.

"Uh … no, they haven't escaped yet." she said, "And that's why we needed the adamantite warrior! They are being pushed back through the residential mine caverns. There's a big dead end at the end, but if they regroup and bunker down there, then we cannot get the queen back from them due to our lack of forces. And even if they wait it out, our majesty will perish from famine before they do. The best we can do is pressure them with a seemingly overwhelming force, but all they need to do is attempt to charge through, and they'll have no trouble getting through what little resistance we do have."

Nuli paused for thought. His eyes wandered upward, intrigued at something.

"What are you thinking about?" Wise asked, "There's nothing to think about! We need brute strength, and fast, or they'll overwhelm us, charge through, and jump through the main fairy ring!"

Nuli's eyes suddenly went wide. Another series of sketches on his papyrus pad created a wavy passageway with a large circle bulging out at the end with a series of small dots outlined in a circle in the centre. Nuli also added some effect by circling the ring with a claw.

"What?" she asked, "You think there's another fairy ring at the end of the pass-"

Nuli shook his head, but stopped with he saw Fairy Wise suddenly come to a realization. His eyes widened.

"Oh no! There is!" she shrieked, "There IS a ring there!"

She suddenly jetted off, and Nuli, after shrugging, took off after her, leaving the poor messenger to haul over the comparatively large drawing pad by himself.

__________________

There was argument in the ranks. Dozens of fairies were darting and zipping around, trying to organize themselves. The recent report was that the werewolves were slowly pushing their way through the residential area, fighting off all time-buying resistance with ease, and it was estimated that they only had a few minutes to plan. So far, all they could think of was to plan an ambush at the other end of the fairy ring after pulling their forces back for that reason, but they were deciding on a location. They only had enough forces left to create one ambush, and so they were debating the most likely place they would pop up. So far, it was the rings between Canifis and the Haunted Woods, which were both highlighted on a large map in the middle of the large, round conference table taking up the majority of the room. Amidst the constant ramblings, the secretary, sitting at the desk at the entrance to the conference room, was groaning in frustration and plugging her ears with both hands, aggravated by the loud bickering.

Nuli, however, was thinking by himself, sketching out figures in the dirt on his own with a claw. He had been hurriedly briefed on the situation. The werewolves had a dramen staff between them, and they used it with their entire force to get inside and strike out of nowhere. No doubt they still had the staff, and were going to use this newly created fairy ring, built by an adventurer to, hypothetically, "make it faster to mine clay" to escape. The only other thing he knew was how they used a staff to teleport more than one being, as he did it himself with the messenger to get into Zanaris in the first place. It involved synchronization of the mind, and Nuli had to have been informed about the majority of Zanaris' basic settings for a few minutes before it worked.

He would pause for thought, add a sketch, shake his head, and decide something else by wiping it out of the dirt. At least, that was for the first 3 minutes. After the fourth passed, he had a large diagram in the dirt, which he looked over, nodded, and approached the fairies with his idea.

Of course, they wouldn't give him any attention. At least, not until he let loose into the air with a blast of lightning-breath, refined into a thin beam of controlled electrical energy. He had been practicing, as it was far more useful when refined to a much more long-ranged capability. Especially for hunting rabbits, which couldn't really be caught any other way. In a moment, he had their attention, and he wasted no time. He gestured the fairies to follow, and he pointed at the diagram he wrote in the dirt, and the discussion turned from deciding which fairy ring to ambush into what exactly the White Dragon was trying to say.

"A spy!" one fairy shouted, "He wants to send a spy."

Nuli quickly nodded with a smile, wagging his tail several times.

"What good'll that do?" someone asked.

"Don't you see? They only have one staff!" the fairy said, "They will discuss where to teleport before they do so. We might have a chance!"

They nodded. It made sense.

"The dragon is clever." some wise-sounding fairy in the crowd complimented.

"Who do we send, then?" another one asked.

Nuli was way ahead of them. He immediately pointed to the secretary.

Tension arose, and the compliment was reconsidered.

"What? Her?" they half-shouted, "Why her?"

Nuli pointed to his ear in such a way that they understood in a moment. She was a secretary, and therefore, had experience in listening to detail. Also, she apparently had very good hearing, as she was visibly annoyed with the arguments going on a considerable distance away. With her, she could keep her distance and stay safe while listening for the location and reporting back in a hurry. Plus, she was convenient, as she was not part of the resistance forces and did not have to be sent out for.

"We have no time to get anybody else, anyways." the leader coordinator, Fairy Wise, said, "Someone give Secretary Whael the assignment and get her out in less than a minute!"

This was done. Nuli watched her stare for a moment in shock, but understanding it was for the queen, agree to the risky task and darted off.

"Well, that's done." a debater said, "Now we just wait for a report, and a well-organized one at that. Unless anyone has reason to think of where they are going to teleport beforehand."

To everyone's surprise, Nuli stepped forward again. He jumped onto the table, crawled onto the map, and confidently pointed a claw at a spot.

Everybody would've laughed had the situation not have been so serious.

"This is no time for jokes, dragon." Wise disciplined, "That's the Mort Myre swamp ring. They would not go in Mort Myre swamp!"

Nuli urgently pointed at the ring over and over; a desperate look on his face. Everybody, however, decided that the dragon didn't have any good ideas anymore. The discussion began to continue, but it was immediately halted to the loud banging on the table from Nuli's hardened tail fin.

"Look, if you're not going to contribute, then get out of here! We need to focus!" Wise shouted.

That only made the white dragon start jumping up and down, making even more noise than before.

"You have to go to the bathroom or something?"

A female fairy in her younger years took more direct interest in Nuli's actions rather then subliminal messages. At first, they thought it was an accusation meant entirely for humour, but suddenly Nuli jumped at him, nodding and wagging his tail excitedly, like a small dog about to go for a walk.

Fairy Wise rolled her eyes. This dragon was going to be causing heaps of trouble if they didn't get rid of it. She gestured the young fairy over and whispered in her year.

"Listen, just take it to Mort Myre swamp and come back right away. We really need to concentrate, and it can stay there on its own. It's a beast, after all. The ghasts wouldn't touch it."

"Understood, ma'am." she whispered back, then called for Nuli to follow.

The White Dragon raced her to the door, forcing her to fly fast just to keep up. Everybody stared, transfixed and surprised.

"Who suggested that the dragon would help us in this time of dire need?" somebody asked. All eyes turned to the messenger, who was still hauling Nuli's papyrus pad.

"The adamantite warrior promised me he would help!" he said, "I swear! I've got common sense too! I wouldn't have accepted it if he didn't say it himself!"

A positive thinker perked up, "Well, his spy idea was a good one, I'll give him that-"

"Forget it. There's no time to delve on that." Wise interrupted, "For now, we need to get an ambush ready. That's our main priority."

The debate started up again. However, Nuli's outburst had somewhat risen the urgency of the meeting, as a lot of time was wasted on him, so as a result, a decision was come to a lot faster than they anticipated.

They were going to ambush the fairy ring just outside Canifis. It was their most likely choice. When the secretary returns with the guaranteed location, they'll shift accordingly. For now, though, they had to be ready for anything.

___________________________

Upon entering the Mort Myre swamp, the young female fairy watched the little dragon bound around excitedly, sniff at the ground, and start tugging at the smily tendrils hanging from the nearby trees. She shook her head, disappointedly. It was just a pet after all. Once Nuli turned away, she wasted no time in jumping back into the ring and vanishing before it could race back.

Nuli watched the last of the light vanish.

Then he smiled. Exactly as planned.

He needed a means to trap the werewolves when they appeared. For a brief moment, he looked around, scanning his surroundings. Nodding, he then yanked the tendrils off a series of nearby trees, gathering them and laying them out in long, straight lines. Working fast, he used his claws to intertwine them into thicker, stronger ropes, stretching out a considerable distance. He then tied the rope into a large lasso, setting it around the fairy ring and pressing it down into the swamp ground to hide it from view with the pull-end moving down toward a nearby tree, just past a large marsh pond. Adding more rope, he looped the tendrils around the tree, and with all his might, he pushed the tree over into the pond, where it sank, pulling the rope down with it. However, he had more than enough rope left to leave on the ground in preparation for his next step.

Now he needed something springy. Unfortunately, the swamp air had decayed what few large trees did remain, and any attempt to bend a branch would result in its crumbling. All he had left to work with were the large strands of tendrils bobbing upwards from the swamp, almost seemingly defying gravity. But how could they help? They had barely any elasticity to them whatsoever. All they could be was more rope.

His mind raced. Maybe he doesn't need "springy" as much as he needed "powerful". Simply some way to generate a lot of moving force - enough to yank seven fully-grown werewolves off their feet. It didn't even have to be far, as the rope alone would just pull them all together and their own body weight would throw off their balance. Especially at the right angle.

… wait. Angle …

He dashed around, uprooting as many of the tendrils as he could, along with a long, stiff tree branch he sawed off with his tail fin. His claws worked vigorously, weaving them together and turning them into long strands of rope, cutting them appropriately with his "knife". Nearby the site, he found a set of four trees. Big ones, too. Three in a triangle, with one around the centre. Perfect! Adding to the rope attached to the fairy ring, he pulled the rope over, looped it around another tree nearby the pond in the same direction as the first from the ring, and pulled towards the trees. With a quick test-tug, he saw the ground around the fairy ring move. Good, it was still loose. He tied the rope loosely around the top of the centre tree, and hauled over the rest of his rope, constantly checking the ring in case they appeared before he was ready.

He jammed the tree branch into the ground until he could no longer pull it out. With the remaining rope, he tied all three surrounding trees to the centre by the bases to several different heights around the centre tree, ranging from the base to the middle, pulling them as tightly as he could. He then tied another three strands to the top of the surrounding trees, looping all three into the middle and stringing the fairy ring lasso through it from above. On top of the centre tree just under the fairy ring rope, he tied one more, and pulled it backwards, towards the pond. The centre tree pulled back, and as expected, crumbled out of its roots, but the three attached trees held it in place with their ropes. It was giving some intense resistance, and Nuli had to dig all four footclaws into the muck to prevent him from getting yanked off his feet. Barely able to reach it, he tied the rope to the tree branch he jammed into the ground, and it held, but Nuli doubted it would be for much longer. No matter, it only had to hold for a minute or so.

With the centre tree literally feet off the ground, he tightened the loose loop leading to the fairy ring, pulling the rope as tightly as he dared. Unfortunately, it emerged slightly. Quickly tying the strand securely to the primed setup, he dashed over to the fairy ring. However, he was only able to press the loop halfway into the ground before the ring started lighting up. Without any other options, he turned tail and dove into the pond with the fallen log, darting through the water and only emerging slightly enough to see through squinted eyes.

There they were. If his guess was correct, they now had the queen as well as the secretary. All of them were standing in a circle around a large chained box, with a figure in trimmed robes standing beside it. The staff he was holding was much more macabre then the weapons the other six brandished. That must be the dramen staff.

He kept low in the water, brushing up against small swampland creatures before they darted away in fear. Thank goodness for water-proof scales, although cleaning them out after this would be murder. Slowly, carefully, he made his way to the rope coming out from under the log. He didn't have time to rig a release for his trap. So, instead, he would have to rely entirely on its inefficiency. With both claws, he carefully pried the log apart, releasing the rope and allowing it to float upwards towards him. The loop he had tied, released from the log, turned into a knot that he immediately tightened the rope with, leaving as much slack as he dared dangle. Any more, and the trap would prematurely go off.

This was it. Either it worked, or it didn't. But he did the math. He tested the structure. He refused to think about failure. This was going to work. Their leader roared in victory, seeing that there was no ambush, and the guards relaxed. Two of them picked up the box. The angle was perfect! Now or never!

"Onward!" yelled the werewolf leader, and the others roared. None of them noticed Nuli's setup. Fools.

Without any further hesitation, Nuli yanked on the rope, pulling it from the rig.

The anchor suddenly snapped out of the ground, releasing the levered centre tree and allowing it to divert all its elastic energy in the direction it had wanted to go this entire time - backward. The intense force yanked the rope in the other direction, making Nuli quickly let go and dart away from the rope, and without anything else to stop the momentum, the lasso was pulled upwards from the angle of the tree across the pond. With all its force pulled back and released from the held position, the centre tree fell down, pulling the rope along with it for added distance.

The werewolves only had a millisecond to react, but it was spent entirely on bewildered confusion. The lasso yanked out from underneath, snaring the knees and passing right under the box as it was momentarily suspended into the air. All seven werewolves, yanked together and disoriented, had their balance completely thrown off. The ones directly caught by the lasso were thrown off their feet into their comrades, who were too bunched together to evade it, and any attempts resulted in them getting caught by the lasso themselves. Unable to control the momentum, every one of them staggered on the soft, unstable ground and fell right into the pond.

One more step. Nuli jumped out of the pond and shook himself off quickly. He was still covered in slime, but it didn't matter at the moment. Grabbing the rope, he pulled tighter for a more difficult snare. There was frantic splashing as the kidnappers desperately tried to untangle themselves and scramble to the surface for air.

Then, he took a deep breath. Let this be Lord Sartranomin's judgement on you, foul beings!

*TZZZZJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA*

Out of his mouth came a blast of white lightning, striking the water's surface. In an instant, the pond came alive as millions of sparks blasted out, bubbling the surface and lighting up the entire swamp with bright flashes of electricity. Semi-transparent shapes throughout the air suddenly fled in terror. He drained his dragon-lung completely into the pond so hard that upon stopping, he half-collapsed, gasping for breath. The pond bubbled slightly, creating a large cloud of steam. Several creatures bobbed up to the surface, floating around lifelessly, and the water slowly began to turn a raw burgundy color. None of the werewolves, however, emerged from the depths.

Nuli looked over the pond sombrely. His father never wanted him to know combat, or kill living creatures that didn't deserve it. But he was a hunter alongside a scholar. Plus, these werewolves' intensions were to endanger the race of fairies. For their deaths, an entire race would be saved, and be free to live peacefully. He silently prayed that his father … all his fathers, would forgive him for what he had to do.

____________________________________

Diving back into the blood-colored waters proved to be somewhat undesirable, even for a dragon. Therefore, it was with relief that he emerged with the dramen staff, somewhat half-singed but otherwise intact, in its mouth.

The box was the only thing remaining on the fairy ring. Both the fairies were definitely in there. Hopefully, the trauma of capture had not made either of them go insane. He too was once kept in a small, dark area since he was born, having only met the outside world just after his first birthday. Very few could get used to the idea of being caged and taken away from what they held dear, and the only reason he didn't was because he had initially come to accept it as "home", since while the bars of a cage restricted your freedom, it was also a small sanctuary from the outside. Provided the circumstances were right, of course.

He tugged on the chain, but it was unforgivingly robust. So instead, he wisely focused on the exposed, wooden areas. With a claw and a lot of willpower, he slashed into the side of the box, cutting into it, and swiping it down to tear the wall away into strips. He heard a faint squeak of terror inside. That would be the secretary. The queen was much more mentally prepared for capture, as this was something that came as a natural fear to such a highly-regarded position.

He finally was able to pry out a small enough hole to peer inside. There they were, both her majesty and Fairy Whael, sprawled and on the ground either in pain or torment.

"Please!" he heard the secretary shout from inside, "Take me away from this nightmare! Release me from this torment!"

He tilted his head. Torment? Was it really that scary? He, for one, felt he wouldn't really be scared until the nightmarish things he was threatened by actually happened to him. This was a teaching to him by Gia, to prevent him from fearing the unknown. Poor thing; she was not subject to these teachings. Her imagination alone must've been more mentally devastating than anything the werewolves threatened her with.

Though she was about to break, she wasn't the priority at the moment. The fairy queen no doubt took a lot of rough-housing, as it was apparent by the number of bruises on her skin and her tatted-up robes. He had to get her to a doctor quickly. Scooping up the crown with a claw, he offered it to the queen as a sign of alliance, as he doubted she would immediately see a slime and blood covered dragon as an immediate ally. The poor fairy was only barely able to righten herself enough to get the crown back on her head, so he gestured again. Fortunately, his message came through to her, and she trusted her life in his hands; she gripped the claw and allowed him to pull her out of the box. Curling one wing in front of him like a hammock, he rested her in and rolled her up safely.

A scream came from inside the box. Fearing a ghost or leech might have gotten in, he grabbed the hole and tore the wall away. Oh, the secretary had just fainted. It was probably better for her this way, anyways. She'll wake up in her bed, and everything she had experienced will mostly cancel itself out as nothing but a nightmare. He scooped her up and placed her in his other wing, impressing himself with his own body control. Without any more hesitation, he grabbed the dramen staff in his mouth, kicked the box into the pond, bounded over to the fairy ring, and with a couple of taps, vanished in a shower of bright, colourful light.

____________________________________

He remembered how his father tried to teach him how to speak. Any attempts to copy the sounds he made turned up fruitless. He tried curving his tongue, exhaling incredibly hard, even squeezing his throat with a claw. But no, all he could manage was a hissing, and perhaps even a whistle by seeping the air through a few of his sharp, frontal teeth. Eventually, they had both given up on speaking, but Nuli never gave up on communication. Instead, he developed his own method, practicing subliminal gestures and figuring out his father's mindset to pick out interpretations and ideas so relative to his experiences that it could almost be like a hidden language. When Alex took him up, he found himself learning more and more about the conscious mind, interested in it as much as trying out a new flavour of wild game once a week for a while.

The reactions of the fairies were interesting enough to note in his long-term memory. Upon appearing, he was frowned on as being a "dirty, worthless" being. Apparently (to him, obviously), the ambush didn't go well. The spy never returned, and the werewolves teleported, but the ambush team reported back with no word, leaving the entire realm in a sombre, fearsome mood. After debating that the team was taking too long, they tried the Haunted Woods fairy ring as well, but there was no sign of them. They had gotten away. Many of them were shivering in fear, cursed by avid, relentless imagination towards the future of their race. Some were enraged, blaming others in frustration in sad attempts at relieving their anxiety and replacing it with relentless bickering and violent act. Others were in discontent, wandering about almost emotionlessly, and Nuli feared some of them may take the path less travelled if he didn't hurry. It was incredible at how much a monarch meant to their society.

He kept his wing curled up to avoid unwanted attention. The queen needed a doctor, not a pileup of observers.

Spitting out the staff nearby the fairy ring, he dashed over to the commons area. He found the headquarters hospital by smell alone, bounding in without hesitation or letting any of the small, fragile beings obstruct his path without scrambling to get out of the way. There were already several injured beings on the beds, most likely from the werewolf attack, and the doctors were speeding around as tense as the rest of them. With a whistle, Nuli summoned help, and an older female approached. Nuli read "Fairy Nuff" on her name-tag. He wondered if they all had silly names like that.

"We only admit fairies. Nothing else." she said while barely even making eye-contact.

She was about to flutter away when Nuli dashed over and grabbed her by the arm with one claw. He looked her in the eyes desperately.

"Listen," she said, apparently hoping not to have to explain herself twice, "We're just too overbooked to help you. If you need medical treatment, just get somebody to activate the main ring for you, and use the code-"

Nuli didn't let her finish. He held up a claw upwards to silence her, pulled both wings forward, and unwrapped them both. He hoped she would shift her priority and call over a stretcher immediately upon seeing the condition both his semi-conscious riders were in.

Instead, Fairy Nuff screamed, and the room suddenly came alive. Nuli had to close his eyes and flinch, because the confusion was so intense that he got jabbed in a few places before they realized that he was a rescuer rather than ransomer. Fortunately, the confusion only lasted a moment, and a stretcher carried the queen and secretary off as several other fairies darted out the door, screaming "The queen's come back! The queen is back! Hurry!" What were originally looks of discontent turned into looks of awe.

In came the commotion, but Nuli was already out of the hospital and into the open. The staff he dropped was still there, and after grabbing it in his mouth, he keyed in a code and jumped headlong into the main fairy ring in one smooth movement. Of course, he would return for the celebration, but looking like this? Absurd!

The mudskippers will enjoy the goo, he thought as he dove into the considerably cleaner waters.

_____________________________

He spared the details entirely to the scribe. They don't have to know the reasoning behind his actions, and how he knew what would happen in advance. That he had intentionally sent a bait fairy for the sole purpose of getting caught in order to test his opponents' mentality. To get themselves into Zanaris with such an organized strike meant they had to have had tactical prowess, so he figured he'd use that against them. They would definitely take their time and analyze everything, making sure there was no room for error whatsoever.

His first wonder was what werewolves might've wanted with the Fairy Queen. By all means, the race of fairies were inedibly toxic, delicately fragile, and in some cases, stubbornly uncooperative. Especially the queen, if she needed to be. All he could really think of was her being a gift to their Lord Draken, as he would have much better use for her, and would reward them with something they'd have much better use for than her.

He then thought of their key safe points. Canifis, definitely, as they would simply send for Draken in the safety of their homes. Otherwise, they'd probably go to Draken's castle, but there weren't any fairy rings nearby there. Not to his knowledge, anyways. He read up on all the books on the fairies and their teleportation network that Alex had in their library. Besides, knowing Draken's personality, if they went straight there in such a state, they'd probably get their meal ticket stripped from them faster then they could willingly surrender. Anywhere else wouldn't admit them for this act, or did not have hospitable conditions for them. No, it would have to be Canifis, and therefore, one of the three fairy rings within considerable walking distance. Haunted woods, Canifis outskirts, and of course, Mort Myre.

By catching a fairy that was obviously sent to listen in on them, it would be confirmed that an ambush was waiting on the other side, and by sending in a fairy so incapable of doing so professionally and stealthily would portray the message that they had underestimated their opponents. Of course, if she wasn't captured, then she reports back with the location, and the ambush is successful regardless. With such a precious cargo and comparatively little fighting power left, especially against an entire realm, the werewolves wouldn't want to take any risks, so the best way to get back would be to take a fairy ring that they'd know for a fact wasn't watched. The most likely candidate for this, being the one in Mort Myre. It was close enough for them to get back in a short amount of time, it was in a danger zone to the fairies (as well as themselves, but definitely manageable), and the fairies wouldn't think they'd ever go there, as he'd confirmed by the reaction of his suggesting the idea in the first place. Otherwise, it was either too far to travel, or too easily primed for an ambush.

Being able to predict another being's actions. That was his specialty. He couldn't fight anything head on, due to lack of strength and capability, so what better way to defeat them then to be one step ahead of them in every other possible manner? To be the first to cross a rickety bridge, with all the floorboards falling away behind him and denying anything else passage. He couldn't help but smile, proud of himself. His father would be proud. All of them.

But he still said nothing. Couldn't even if he wanted to. He would need Alex for that. His new father put in as much effort as silently deciphering him as he did making himself silently decipherable. Almost as though Alex could read his mind. For all he knew, perhaps he could.

"… and to reward you for your bravery, we would like to present you with this."

Nuli snapped back to reality as smoothly as possible. Most of the speech was the Fairy Queen's point of view on the events, as well as Whael telling everyone what she had been through (as much as she wanted to blame Nuli, she found herself not to be as traumatized as she thought, since it had felt like a dream more than anything, and no doubt was going to be forgotten in a manner of days). The celebration lasted throughout the rest of the day, and he didn't doubt that it was long through the next day. He was finally getting dismissed, and with a going-away present too.

A small, golden box was presented to him. After bowing respectfully, he smoothly flipped open the latch and pulled the lid open. Inside, lying on its own on a velvet cushion, was a small white shard, spiked at the tip and sparkling slightly.

Nuli tilted his head in confusion. Was that to be an amulet? Or maybe a charm or something.

"With this, you may re-enter the realm whenever you wish." the Fairy Queen said, "You have earned your trust among us, as did the adamantite warrior once long ago."

Nuli looked closer. By the shape and lustre, the object appeared to be a young dragon tooth. His size, too, which impressed him. The fairies had a reputation of stockpiling the things. By what it appeared, the tooth was going to be inserted into his mouth. But he didn't have any room for the tooth, as he pointed out by exposing his own and pointing at their flawlessness.

"Don't worry, we've taken care of that too." the Queen assured him.

*CLICK CLICK*

The sound made him stagger backward with his tail between his legs, shivering. In came a set of three fairies, carrying a large, metal handled device with a claw-like clamp at the end. Four others snuck up from behind, gripping him by the legs and yanking him closer. Not even flapping his wings frantically and squirming could widen the distance.

"Why do they always struggle?" he heard Fairy Nuff mutter under her breath as she pried his mouth open with two fingers.

As he felt the metal device enter his mouth, he shot a quick glare at the clueless creature of the realm.

"For good reason." he thought before his mind was filled with intense pain.

Jasonmrc · **Posted:** March 24th, 2011, 2:24 pm

Karmadin and the Rangers arrived in the old Falador. The beginnings of a stone wall was visible all around the island where the White Knight's castle used to be. Two guards stood watch at the end of a wood and rope bridge where the old stone bridge had been. When Karmadin approached they saluted and let him and the Rangers pass.

"Captain Karmadin, sir." The Lieutenant said with a salute as Karmadin entered his tent.

"Lieutenant Ricken, there has been a large increase in the amount of revenant spirits coming from the wilderness. Have your men on full alert and make sure your night guard stays sharp. Keep fires going around the camp, the revenants fear fire." Karmadin instructed.

"Yes, sir."

"We're going to stay here the night and leave for Ardougne in the morning. It is urgent that the Generals take counsel of the stirrings in the wilderness." Karmadin said and then left with a salute.

He and the rangers were gone before the Lieutenant and most of the camp was awake the next morning. They arrived in Ardougne late that day and spoke with the Generals that night.

"The revenants seem to be most concentrated here and in this area." Karmadin said as he pointed to a map of the wilderness. He indicated the Demonic ruins and the area to the north-east of there which included the Rogue's castle, the volcano, and the abandoned island.

"We haven't gone farther than the Fence because the number of revenants was too great for my company."

"Too great for you? How many do you estimate there to be?" Jason asked.

"Over 100 atleast. That was just what we could see when we were near Red Dragon island. We didn't go further because we didn't want to get their attention. There has not been such a large concentration since..."

Karmadin thought for a moment. Ordinarily,in almost any situation, there is something in history to compare to. In this case, however, Karmadin could think of no time in history where there was over 100 revenants concentrated in one area.

"I don't think there has ever been such a large quantity of revenants in one place. There's is something going on up there but I don't think the Rangers can handle it alone."

"My battalion could accompany you." Conter said.

"No, I don't think more soldiers would be of use right now. I think we should call a counsel and discuss it. Then, perhaps, we may scout it further."

"How long do you think we could wait? Most of the Generals are helping rebuild Ardougne or are in Keldagrim working on getting shipments of supplies sent out." Jason asked.

"The sooner the better. I'd say a week would be the maximum. The Rangers will be returning to guard Falador in a few days but I'm going to remain for the counsel." Karmadin replied.

"One week then. We will meet at the Tower then and discuss it."

Jason wrote letters to the Generals to meet at the Tower of the Star on the seventh day of the writing of the letter. They were marked urgent and went out first thing the next morning. Jason sent Captain Wrean, who was docked in Ardougne, to hand deliver the message to Alex.

Even though Gia was gone, Wrean still occasionally sailed to the Saradomin Warriors Church. He would deliver some supplies - completely free of charge. His crew always wondered why they delivered supplies to the island when they never even saw anyone there. Whenever they arrived Wrean would tell them to unload the cargo in the same spot as they always did and then he would walk to the buildings and out of sight. His First-Mate kept the crew from exploring the island even though everyone wanted to know why it was so important to Wrean.

Most times Wrean would just stand on the opposite shore of the island and talk into the wind as if he was talking to Gia. Sometimes he would just stare. Even though a magnificent memorial had been erected at the Tower of the Star in Gia's honor, Wrean felt closer to Gia whenever he stood on the shore of the SWC island. It was so...tranquil...so...peaceful...Peace, that's all Gia wanted.

Wrean had met Alex, or rather re-met Alex months ago when he first sailed back to the SWC to honor Gia. At first he was surprised to see Alex in a different form, but it didn't much matter to him. The two had become good friends and would sometimes sit on the shore and talk, mostly about Gia but sometimes about sailing or herblore.

Alex 43 · **Posted:** March 25th, 2011, 5:53 am

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SWC
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Alex had his assignment from Sartranomin now, and he was going to take responsibility for it. Apparently, being a warrior spirit meant that there was no possible way for him to retire from the battle, so instead, he was meant to enjoy it. To feel the rush and urgency of putting his life on the line several times, and to have his hobby and craft to look forward to after the fighting was done.

Morning had arisen, and they decided to wait until the sun began to set again. Then they would go fix Varrock and head straight for the Tower of the White Star afterwards. After Varrock, they had 5 other locations to do, and by the length of the Unknown's recovery rate, he estimated it would take at least a week to do it. Then the Unknown would be gone for good, and he could forget he ever knew the monster.

Nevertheless, playing host to an otherworldly deity also had its advantages. That was perhaps the fastest day Alex had ever gone through. They had occupied most of their time with a game of questions; each taking turns asking a question to the other, unable to switch until a question was fully and properly answered. Alex had attempted to show the Unknown his garden, which consisted of an incredible variety of herbs. If it wasn't for his capabilities in herblore having defeated Daemreyuant, he doubted the Unknown would even have the smidgen of interest it had now.

"Manipulating vegetable life to adjust to your choice of climate simply to add to your own convenience." it muttered, "If it wasn't commonplace practice, I would've called you a heartless, selfish being."

"Hey, at least I don't raise livestock, Hunt." Alex retorted.

"Just because you don't resort to a more extreme example does not make you innocent." was the retaliation, and Alex left it as it was, simply admitting that he was not perfect, and was willing to accept it.

Alex continued to call the Unknown "Hunt", deeming it a better name then simply "The Unknown". For one, only one syllable. For two, it was more of a name then a title, and he wanted to avoid giving it that sort of superiority over him. Otherwise, he would've had the Unknown call him "Watcher" or something. The Unknown, deciding he would rather have his own title diminished then to give Alex the respect of a more, formal title, simply accepted it without complaint.

He had tried his best to try to make the Unknown comfortable. Despite their history together, it was still a guest, and if it was going to stay for a week, he wanted it to at least be all right with it. He offered and gave so much that it prompted a conversation like this:

"Are you trying to make me actually like you?"

"I'm just being a polite, caregiving host, Hunt."

"Then allow me to be the instigator. If I want something, I will let you know. Stop offering unnecessary additions."

"I'm just giving you options you may not think of."

"That is called "spoiling". Offering beyond the self-generated needs and desires."

"The reason we mortals do it is to gain appreciation and respect without resorting to the inconvenience of fear."

"You don't need harsh fear to be respected, Allezyamos, and spoiling does not gain you respect. Appreciation, yes, but not respect. It just gives the recipient more subconscious desire, letting them believe that the giver is a source of fulfillment. Respect is not the appreciation of what you think you can get out of a person. Respect is to hold superiority over something; letting it know its place and who is the better capable. Yes, it is fear, but not in the context you think it is."

Because of this stubbornness, the majority of the day was spent playing the questions game. It was the only thing the both of them could agree with as being a viable pastime.

"OK, I got one." Alex questioned, "How many different galaxies have you been to?"

"That's your question?" Hunt twisted its large, glowing eyes into a confused stare, "That's as irrelevant a question as asking how old I am. What possible use would you have for that information?"

"It's one out of curiosity, not benefit." Alex replied, "If anything, it benefits you by adding to my level of respect for you."

"Which doesn't really exist regardless."

The Unknown shrugged. It decided to just answer it regardless. To it, this was a freebie.

"Very well. I've been to numerous galaxies in my lifetime." it said, "Considering how long I have existed, and since I practically went on a round-about tour of the Universe in seeking my lost weapon, I won't be able to give you an exact number, as that would involve me thinking back to every last one and counting them. Such a task would take far too long for our limited time together."

"You've been to millions of galaxies?" Alex nearly half-shouted.

"Millions. Yeah." Hunt replied, "… on my first day. I spent tens of thousands of your years seeking out my lost weapon, and have traversed through nearly 10 billion; visiting every last inhabitable and God-Owned planet each one had to offer."

And Alex was impressed.

"… you just wanted to know how many galaxies are out there, didn't you."

"Well … it would be cool to know." Alex shrugged sheepishly, "But dang, that must've been frustrating to go through 10 billion galaxies just to find your sword. And all the while being forcibly pressured by Daem to hurry."

"It was not a leisurely tour." Hunt grumbled, shifting its weight, "It was because of my influence and patience alone that I was able to even search through them at that speed. And Daem wouldn't pressure me unbearably, as he was relying on me and only me to find him."

Alex nodded. Hunt didn't really want that kind of respect after all.

"All right. Your turn."

Hunt's eyes squinted. It was smiling.

"What is food like?" it asked.

Alex was taken off-guard with this one.

"Food? Wow." he said, trying to organize his thoughts, "To ask me that would be like having K ask you what it's like to see. Smelling and tasting is a sense in itself."

"Amuse me." Hunt dared.

Alex had to. This was Hunt's question, and with the game rules in place, he wouldn't be able to continue asking his own many questions unless he could answer this one. Difficulty was not thrown into the rules. Fortunately, neither was time-limit. He closed his eyes and started gathering choice words, taking his time with the confidence that Hunt would not rush him.

He thought for several minutes before he began.

"All right. By what the Guardian once told me, your race absorbs heat energy to use as your own." Alex said.

"It's done wither naturally or forcibly, depending on the situation." Hunt acknowledged.

"So I see. Eating, though, is- … you know "eating" is the process of "taking in" food, right? Well, eating is done through availability. Only when someone has food, they can eat it. And they must in order to survive, because we cannot absorb heat energy like you, so we are pressured to find either a reliable, replenishable source, or we perish through aching pain and fatigue. Like being, say, trapped in space, looking for a tiny sun in the depths of black nothingness.

"If you're trying to detail a reference, you have succeeded." Hunt nodded, "Continue."

"Ah, but eating is rewarded. Either positively or negatively." Alex continued, "Like that satisfaction where you are staved of energy, and you are suddenly presented with a huge source. That sort of glorious victory that enables you to keep going and, if for but a moment, relieves you of self-worry. Except in your case, you are only rewarded with the long-term benefits. When you eat, however, there are short-term rewards for actually eating as well."

Alex paused for effect. Hunt didn't break eye contact. It didn't say "Like what?", like Alex expected, so he simply continued.

"When you eat, you experience the food's "flavour". A massage of the senses. Delight, and satisfaction, that the body in turn enjoys in order to want to keep eating. Reason for this is to immediately get it within a newborn's idea that eating food is a necessity without the limitations of uninterpretable communication."

Alex was surprised to see Hunt nod. For once, he got something right?

"Each flavour satisfies in a different way." he added, "Some flavours are gentle on the mind, and allow the eater to relax more, especially in times of stress. Other people eat … for example, what we call "spicy" food, which not only delights the mind, but it also leaves a lingering feel on the mouth. It can be stimulating, or just leave an odd feeling tingling behind. Depends on preference. Not everybody likes all kinds of foods, of course. Like looking at different colors and preferring one to the other, even though there's really no reason to it."

He paused yet again, as though to wait for Hunt to say "that's enough", but Hunt was still not yet satisfied.

"As for what these flavours are actually like in terms of sense," Alex said, "I'm afraid I couldn't describe it any more then simply having a long-building desire fulfilled, and satisfaction of actually having succeeded in getting it there."

Alex stopped. This was a tough question. It was Hunt's turn to speak, be it to accept the answer or inquire about something more in detail. He just didn't have any more to say without a prompt.

"I understand it is difficult" Hunt sympathized, "To try to describe something that mortals are naturally accustomed to experience to somebody that's been deprived of the many years of experience and development. Nevertheless, I think I've got an impression as to what you're trying to describe. I'll accept this answer."

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. If he didn't, this one would've taken all night.

_________________________________

Hunt was about to ask his next question when they suddenly heard a loud knocking on the door.

"He's finally here." Hunt mumbled.

"Get your mask back on." Alex said, "And remember, we don't want them to know we're expecting them."

Hunt stomped off up the stairs and into one of the rooms on the second floor. When he was safely out of sight, Alex answered the door.

"Captain Wrean." he nodded respectfully.

"Alex 43." Wrean saluted back.

"Technically, it's Allezyamos now." Alex replied, "But I'll still accept Alex."

"Force of habit, my friend." Wrean beamed. He will keep calling Alex that no mostter how much he'll remind the old captain that his former self had long died with Saradomin.

"So, how can I help you?" Alex asked, "Are you finally going to let me pay you for supplies?"

Wrean laughed heartily, "My friend, you are a hero and a legend of Gielinor. How could I possibly take your money?"

Alex squinted slyly, "With a smile and a nod. That's what I do."

They both shared a laugh, and Wrean produced an envelope wrapped in a shining white paper and sealed in dark blue wax with the sigil of the Tower of the Star. Alex took it wordlessly and examined it.

"What's this?" he casually asked.

"An invitation to a party, by the looks of things." Wrean shrugged.

Alex nodded slightly, saying "Yeah, but that relates to what one perceives as a "party"." before tearing the envelope open and silently reading the contents to himself. After a few lines, he chuckled. Another few, and he shook his head. Last bit, and he groaned.

"You know what the annoying part about being a hero is?" Alex asked Wrean.

"That you're always on call, right?" he guessed. He figured that was the case with every other hero.

"Not quite." Alex replied, holding up the envelope in his hand, which sparked with lightning and burnt to ash, "The annoying part is that I have no choice but to accept the call."

Wrean nodded. He would've liked to be a hero himself; a warrior, unafraid of death, willing to sacrifice life and limb to save lives and make the world a better place. The only thing stopping him from doing so was that he figured he wouldn't be able to do it for very long, and heroes being so rare, each one of them had to be completely exploited to the best of anyone's ability. If they were more commonplace, this wouldn't be the case, but they are not commonplace because this IS the case. Such was the way of heroism.

"If that's all you're here for," Alex instructed Wrean, "Then go ahead and head on back. I need to prepare myself."

Wrean wouldn't let Alex close the door, however.

"Ah, but we've also come to pick you up and bring you there." Wrean offered.

"No need." Alex politely declined, "I've got my own method of travel, and there's something I need to quickly do beforehand. In fact, I could probably take my time, make myself a lunch and dinner feast, do the thing I have to do, and still beat you back."

Wrean squinted his eyes slightly with a slight chuckle. So that's how it was, eh?

"Righty." he said, "You'd best get yourself over there as fast as possible. Plus, I gotta couple rounds to make myself, so it's better for me anyways."

"All right. I'll see you there, then." Alex saluted a farewell.

He was about to turn towards his workshop with a loud banging was heard from upstairs.

*Bam BAm BAM*

In came Hunt. His mask was back on, and he was hunching over slightly while holding his violet-colored robes overtop his shining golden armor. His mask had been once again sewn into the hood, creating no possible openings to expose the body underneath. His armor, along with himself, looked very heavy, and each footstep was forceful and unnecessarily hard, slamming against the hardwood floor and making the ground vibrate. Out of the mouth-hole came a jet of steam, and after witnessing the sudden, forceful entrance, Wrean immediately doubted he'd be getting off to a good start with this one like he did with Alex.

The dark warrior approached Alex with hardly even a glance in Wrean's direction.

"Just wait outside." Alex instructed him, "Ignore the ship. I'll be taking you after I get myself prepared."

Another blast of uncomfortably hot steam, and Hunt turned to walk outside.

"Wha? Aren't you going to introduce me?" asked Wrean, entering the chapel and approaching Alex. The adamantite warrior was about to speak, but the golden figure cut him off.

"No, he won't." it said in a deep, bold voice.

The jolly smile faded immediately from the old captain's bearded face, and he succumbed to the cold, unnerving aura that the masked man walked with. Shivering slightly, Wrean backed off and got closer to Alex, as though for protection.

"Bit of a character, isn't he?" he asked.

"I only have to work with him for a week." Alex whispered with assurance, "And then we'll never see each other again."

"That would be ideal, indeed." Hunt shouted behind himself without even turning his head.

Alex crossed his arms and shook his head, forcing out a smile. it wasn't easy.

___________________________________

With herblore came healing. Potions of a wide variety, in plentiful quantity, and with a large, well-kept backpack to fit the majority, easily portable and distributable. He was pondering just making a bunch of different potions, heading out into the Runescape world, and just selling them all off for cheap prices. That would be the work of a hero, wouldn't it? Handing out medicines and saving even the poor people's lives. He didn't think he's mind it. Sure was a lot better than constant combat. At least with herblore, the only thing he was killing was the leaves off of trees. And they didn't put up much of a fight.

He stockpiled on a few of each, trying to keep up the diversity while still maintaining the numbers and types of remaining potions should something undesired happen. Usually when he did go on a trip, and there was combat involved, the herblore pack served as a contemporary back-barrier, but at an annoyingly fatal expense. Really no point to bringing all the potions if they were just going to get broken and spilled into his pack, with which he would have to spend weeks soaking it in salty sea-water just to remove the smell.

He had to face it. Some potions really, REALLY didn't go well together.

The packing didn't take long. Neither did the locking-up. Nevertheless, upon finally getting to Hunt and reverting to his "travel" form, Hunt complained about the human taking off before they did.

"He's a sailor. I'm a warrior." Alex simply replied.

This only resulted in Hunt mumbling about planning ahead, but Alex ignored him. He could complain about that all he wanted. It didn't matter.

He was still no better than Alex at it.

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EDGEVILLE FAIRY RING - OUTSIDE VARROCK WALLS
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He didn't stay long for the party. The entire course of events had lasted about three days, and he wanted to return to Alex as soon as possible. Not that he didn't enjoy the fairies' company, but that they would be wiser to instead prioritize on securing the realm, disassembling that manufactured fairy ring, and taking measures to ensure that such an event doesn't happen again. All the party was really doing was providing them with a means to escape that scary reality, and by his leaving, they will return to the measures as quickly as possible, as they no longer had a hero to help should the werewolves find a way to break in again.

He looked around, piercing the nighttime darkness with his glowing eyes and strong night vision capabilities. Beside him, a clear river flowed south through a large trench in the ground, which had originally played host to several thriving saplings before they got washed away. Or were in the proceedings of doing so; hanging on for dear life to what little soil and rocks remained underneath their roots. Looking up, he saw himself in the shadow of a large wall, standing taller then any average building he had seen. The sun was nearly set, and he could only make out a thin strip of light coming from overtop the wall, fading away into the black of night that stretched over him.

The moon wasn't up yet, but it was only a matter of time. What was it going to be today? … ah yes, left-side half moon, slightly on the over-filled side, taking an approximate 37.9 degree arc through the western side of the sky. It will be visible for around 10 hours, the final two being in conjunction with the rising sun. He still awaited his first lunar or solar eclipse; that being when he would turn 5 and 12 respectively.

Behind the wall, he heard a muffled rumbling, and the ground shook slightly. A loud, deep roaring sound filled the air - somebody behind the wall was shouting with great intensity, and what little light the sky offered was suddenly blotted out within a huge mass of dark clouds. A chill raced throughout the air, and around him, he heard the sounds of various wildlife fleeing, sensing the danger. They weren't the only ones.

Nuli dove into the river trench, staying low and cautious. The rumbling intensified tenfold, and gritting his teeth, he held on to prevent himself getting tossed around. A harsh wind picked up, and he pressed himself as low as he could go, tucking his wings down to prevent them from getting caught in the storm. A great blast of light flashed over the top of the wall several times, and he heard the ever familiar roar of nearby thunder. Something otherworldly was happening behind that wall! … not that it really mattered, since it had been nothing but a huge, endless hole in the ground for several months. He shut his eyes, gripping the ground tightly and pressing his head down for what felt like an hour.

Then, within an instant, the storm suddenly subsided. The wind stopped, the clouds evaporated, and the rumbling ceased. Nuli held his ground for a good long minute before he regained the confidence to pull himself out of the stream and investigate.

*FWOOOOSH!*

A blast of wind rushed over Nuli. Instinctively, he looked up. A large, dark silhouette with massive wings shot from over the wall and zoomed off into the distance, curving itself around to the southeast with several paced flaps. Nuli sighed with relief. That was his new father, taking off back home, and no doubt he had used the power of the one that caused that large hole to fix the problem. Nearby the wall, Nuli noticed the small hole in the ground dug by nimble warriors of the past, and allowing curiosity to lead him forth, he crawled through it to see what was now behind the stone barricade. What he had been devoid of witnessing all this time.

For the first time in his life, he was looking at the City of Varrock. Buildings, castles, houses, and flags, stretching up as high as their support beams would allow them. A pinnacle of human-made wonder and achievement, sculpted with the passion for art and fortified by sensible paranoia. He crept through the streets, marvelling at all the interesting shops in the large square. One sold arrows, as advertised by the sign. Another sold metal. A third … what was that? An orb shop? That's one of the easiest things to glass-blow in the world; why need a shop for that? It was colourful, though. Probably one of those psychological shops that lures the customer into buying unnecessary things that some desert nomad he heard about did for a living. He wondered how he would fare against such a device.

A gentle wind blew through the streets, tossing around small pieces of litter between the light grey bricks of the buildings. Not a sound could be heard for a mile, except for the clicking of his own claws on the hard, cobblestone ground. Not a creak of a door, nor the errching of floorboards. The city was entirely devoid of life; window shutters and doors hung open and swayed in the breeze hauntingly, and not even a rat darted from between buildings. But that would be changed soon enough. No doubt the humans would realize they had one of their favourite cities back, and there will be a race to claim lost ground. For good measure, Nuli closed a few doors and lit a few lamps on his tour, hoping that it would deter opportunist thieves.

Alex did well, he thought with a smile. He had told Nuli all about his plan, and the doubts he had that it would succeed. Or at least go smoothly. However, he had told Nuli that what they had lost would be very much worth getting replaced if he succeeded, and therefore, it would be worthwhile to take that gamble. Worst case scenario; he would have to fight the Unknown, and Nuli feared losing a second father. But, Alex had confidence. He fought the Unknown once before, and with that experience now behind him, he figured that any subsequent fights were more than handleable. Nuli finally agreed to the risky proposal, trusting that Alex could handle himself.

Speaking of, Nuli contemplated about heading home and whether or not it was a good idea. There was a chance that they were still not done, and Alex was still playing host to the one that had caused the death of his old father. That was just like Alex; he didn't like to hide things from him. He had sat Nuli down and explained that he would be inviting his father's killer onto the planet to fix what it had broken, either by negotiation or force, and he begged that Nuli forgive and trust him that he play host to such a creature while Nuli remained hidden from it. Again, Nuli agreed; it would be good to stay away from such a being. His father was incredible, and it was hard to imagine what kind of ability it had to be able to defeat him with such comparative ease.

He then came to a sudden thought. Now that he thought about it, their island, compared to this area, was more to the south west, and yet he clearly saw Alex fly off south-east. Probably to fix another target, he figured. Either way, he was not heading toward home, meaning that he could probably do so himself safely. And should they return while he was there, he simply would relocate and lock himself in the workshop or the basement. He liked it in there, anyways. Spreading out his own wings, he took off and headed straight for home. It would be folly to try to follow his father, anyways. Alex was so much faster than he was, and he had with him a creature that he really didn't want Nuli to meet.

Never mind. If it was anything important, Lord Sartranomin would let him know.

momsrascal93 · **Posted:** April 4th, 2011, 4:44 pm

Momsrascal thought the rebuilding of Ardougne would be remarkably uneventful until Michael stopped by with a greeting and a letter.

"What's this?" Momsrascal asked.

"A letter." Michael said frankly.

"Let's see what this is about..." She said, opening the letter. "An invitation to a meeting in a week's time?" She asked casually. "All right. Thanks for dropping this off, Michael." She said before going off to prevent building materials from falling.

Meanwhile in Falador...

Tenshi was dealing with the harrowing task of rebuilding Falador, and luckily for him it was going quite well. When the rangers returned to the white city, one of them gave him a letter. He read it and stuffed it away in one of his pockets, with news of the meeting stored in memory.

Meanwhile on the Shadow Isles...

"I've called this meeting to bring up new events that Ace's department has observed." Lawrence said. Everyone for once seemed attentive to what Lawrence was saying, even Darkrascal, who normally would have fallen asleep. "There have been reports of unnaturally large groups of revenants gathering in the wilderness. It isn't natural for hundreds of them to gather at once." Lawrence said, informing the council.

"It's so dangerous, I can't even go back there. It's getting out of hand rather quickly." Darkrascal said. The council burst into speculation.

"It seems to be happening because of Dulcien's growing influence." Lawrence said, quieting everyone down.

"Well do you have a plan? What the heck are we supposed to do about it?" Giltri, a shadow dwarf and Lawrence's resource manager asked.

"Well-" Lawrence started.

"Dear, what's even the point of calling these meetings if all we're going to do is try to predict the future, huh?" Darkrascal asked. Everyone seemed shocked that she could even bring up such a solid point.

"You want to try to take on Dulcien now!? We don't have the resources yet!" He said.

"Yet...? So you do have a plan!" She said with a grin and life seemed to fill the dreary room. Lawrence beamed with pride.

"Well it's going to take waiting... But after some more training, we'll have an army that can do something." Lawrence explained proudly.

"For once we get some good news..." Ace said, hiding a smile behind his face mask.

Alex 43 · **Posted:** April 10th, 2011, 9:27 pm

Now why don't I throw a few enemies into the mix. Introducing: the race of Ormra.

Here's the statistics of a common, everyday Ormra:

Alignment: Zamcatristak
Weapons: Flaming body parts, sharp claws on hands and feet, telekoytic* powers.
Armor: None.
Looks: Ormra are skinny, skeletal-like beings, with long, thin limbs that show barely any muscle. Ormra can range from 4 to 15 feet tall, depending on their age and backgrounds, and their personalities are dynamically adjusted to personal experience and backgrounds, much like humans. In stature, they are humanoid, with two arms and two legs, and joints for elbows and knees, but that's about it.
They have three feral-looking eyes on their bird-like faces and large caps covering the top half of their heads, which comes down over their eyes in order for them to blink. The mouths are triangular and toothy, stretching upwards in the middle like a cat. They have no notable nose, but instead smell through the two pointed, forwardly-curved protrusions out the sides of their round, half-ellipse caps, which one would've guessed were ears.
Their bodies and limbs are incredibly thin and boney, which contain hardly any notable muscle. They are brittle-looking, but there is still strength behind them, as shown by their fluid, easy-going movements. Their hides, composed of a somewhat thick, rubbery skin, covers their entire body, glowing a unique color to the rest. No two Ormra have the same shade of color about them. Their hides are also fire-resistant, and are prone to setting on fire intentionally, depending on the situation.
Their claws are oddly spiked, with pointed protrusions jetting out at odd angles out both sides and the backs of their hands along with two flexible finger-like claws. Their feet also are composed of dual-paired claws jutting from the tops, sides, and front - again, the front ones being flexible.
Aside from the legs and arms, they also have two tails; each one barbed, pointed, and whip-like, serving as an extra leg if need be. They also have two triangular wings, curved from the spine and jetting out a single point in between, which beat quickly like insect wings to propel their thin, light bodies through the air.
Strengths: Their strength resides in their speed and capabilities. They can sense an enemy's attack, and dash around the battlefield with intense maneuverability to avoid and parry so effectively, they can get an attack in from behind before their opponent even finishes swinging their weapon.
Weaknesses: Like their frame suggests, they are very brittle, and do not take much force at all to overwhelm and bring down. As such, they are only effective warriors in wide areas against spread-out opponents.
Because of their pride and flamboyant hides, they use no other weapons or armor. They wouldn't be able to support it with their thin frames, after all.

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*- Telekoytas: This is an Ormra's natural psychic capability. They can read and converse between themselves through their minds at a distance, doing this so naturally and frequently that it has eliminated their need for names. Should a non-Ormra creature wish to converse with them, however, they are usually regarded by the color of their hides, which again, is always unique to the Ormra. They also can make things hover in front of their "hands" with a strong sort of telekinesis, and can also "yank" and "shove" objects at a mid-ranged distance with a burst of effort. However, they cannot mind-read other creatures that do not possess a partial or similar mental capability.
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Now, my characters. Each of them bears the description of a common, everyday Ormra as I have described, along with the additional following:

Name: Lime
Gender: Male
Age: According to gathered up results after interviewing him with several people, ranging between 1 year and 1 million years. Your guess is as good as mine.
Race: Ormra.
Strengths: He is, perhaps, the only Ormra in the group that is willing to fight without any conditions. He is effective, strategic, and all-around useful.
Weaknesses: Disobedient, neglecting, and otherwise inexperienced. Not somebody anyone would rely on, especially in battle.
Physical Description: An unkempt, disobedient rascal of an Ormra. He doesn't give a darn about his looks, so long as all his blood stays within his body.
History: Normal parents, normal household, normal neighbourhood. He would've been a perfectly normal, functioning Ormra to their society. Unfortunately, he was introduced to the concept of the prank by a friend, and taking an immediate liking to it, he became his personality almost overnight by booby-trapping his entire house in gleeful laughter. That was how his parents died. It was tragic, but nevertheless quite hilarious. At least, that's how he recalled it in between gasps for breath after a good five minutes of laughter.
Cast onto the street, he adjusted to the new environment by stealing and conning, developing his street-smarts and sneaky capabilities. His tendency for pranking had not ceased, and he had become known as the "Trouble Spot" by the local populace. Twice he was arrested, and twice he had escaped. Maturing from the experience of consequential actions, he developed his martial combat abilities in the underground, and was in the process of participating in a series of underground fights before he was cast away to Gielinor by Zamcatristak. Strangely enough, he felt it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

Name: Ochre
Gender: Male
Age: Don't- … just don't ask.
Race: Ormra.
Strengths: Succumbing to rage in an instant, he is a devastating warrior.
Weaknesses: Uncontrollable. He will fire off all his power in large, non-strategic bursts and spend himself very quickly.
Physical Description: The smaller of the four Ormra. His face is more scarred and wild-looking than the others, and his body does more than match.
History: He had a tough uprising, having been unscripted into the Ormra military at a very young age by negligent parents. Three times, he lost the entire squad he was in, having to watch them all die in front of him. Then he alone would charge forth, with every intent to die, and instead surprise himself by succeeding where an entire squadron failed. He should've been promoted for his incredible, heroic work, but the way he had been mentally scarred and trashed by the horrors of battle made everyone fear him and his state of mind, deciding he was much more useful and beneficial as a warrior rather than commander. Time and time again, he had been sent to kill and assassinate, knowing nothing but war, combat, and struggle. He did not know value. He did not learn respect. He did nothing but kill, day in and day out, even when he was not supposed to. Lime and Ochre had a tough time convincing him that they were to be allies after being cast into Gielinor during his sleep, trying to advise him in the ways of "value". Of course, he would not accept these teachings, remaining the violent, impatient husk of a warrior as he is, but he will stay quiet and dormant so long as he's not provoked.

Name: Amber
Gender: Female
Age: Now dah'ling, don't cha know iz impolite ta' ask an Ormra 'er age?
Race: Ormra.
Strengths:
Weaknesses: Cares too much about her looks to be an effective warrior. That is, if you can convince her to.
Physical Description: A well-kept, somewhat spoiled Ormra.
History: She was born into a rich, well-respected family of Ormra, not knowing anything beyond the golden fence she was raised behind. She was cast to Gielinor as she was about to inherit her parent's properly and belongings, throwing her lost and confused into this strange, alien world. Thanks to Lime's "opposite" personality and way of thinking, however, she decided to make the best of it.

Name: Cobalt
Gender: Male
Age: Nobody knows. He won't say. We don't even think he himself knows. Or wants to.
Race: Ormra.
Strengths: Despite his insanity, he possesses superior fighting prowess, and could take on all three of the other Ormra single-handedly. Including Ochre in an uncontrollable rage.
Weaknesses: Completely unpredictable. Sometimes he'll switch sides on a whim. Sometimes he'll even vanish mid-fight.
Physical Description: A somewhat larger Ormra. Carefree, delusional, and downright insane, but almost in a good way. He speaks in riddles and strange proverbs, and likes to float around with humming or singing. He has yet to meet the Chaos Elemental, but it would easily be assumed they'd become the best of friends, as they have so much in common. Surprisingly, he is almost as well-kept as Amber, keeping himself looking good despite his inability to even acknowledge himself as an Ormra.
History: History, you say? That's the world as it happened. You can ask yourself, would the world be the world if it didn't have history? Or, if the world wasn't the world, would history be history? Or would it be something else? How about Rambeets? I like Rambeets. So spicy. Tell me, have you ever been to the moon before? It's very dark up there. I prefer the sun. Much more warmer and tropical. I brought my pet Juhgog with me, but he didn't like it. So I had to throw it out. Ah, the weather. I do miss the tree I sat under yesterday. It was as though we forged an inseparable bond with our time together. I wonder what happened to the hat I was wearing.

These are bad guys. May Sartranomin protect you all.

________________________

He pulled his hood over his head tightly and started the long walk to the dock. The village was mostly deserted and covered in the black of darkness, but all it took was one casual patrol, and their cover would be blown. That was the disadvantage to being a shadow. It was tremendously easy to differentiate them from humans. And usually, shadows were discriminated at being evil with dark, undesirable intent, so any immediate assumption would be instantly negative and destructive to their cause.

… of course, most shadows actually were evil, and did have this intent, so they were right to discriminate, but still …

They had just finished delivering their load to the monks, and for once, were actually paid the full amount. That was the nice thing about Zamorak monks. Despite their fanaticism, they still had respect for financial honour. Still, it would be good to know exactly where they got all that money from. If they were outcast Zamorakians, and they could still afford to be fair, they must be doing something right. Personally, he wanted to know where this income came from, because he would then no doubt get himself involved. The pay for being a ship labourer was not desirable, but somebody had to do it.

He took one last careful look around the village, looking for signs of opposition. A knight. A spy. Even a commonplace thief could spill the beans that there are shadows docking at this out-of-sight port. That would not be good. They didn't have the forces or power necessary to fend off an assault, and even if they escaped, they would be charged with the arduous task of seeking out a new port. And it wasn't as though abandoned, isolated ports were easy to come by. Especially for delivering the goods they were handling. Deciding that he didn't see anything, not even out of paranoia, he deemed it safe, and went for a straight jog toward the large ship docked on the long, somewhat rickety dock.

The boat was a sight to behold. From the tall, thick mast hung large, majestic sails, painted in a dark grey and slightly tattered on the bottom edges from age and wear. The boat itself was made from treated wood; maple, by the looks of it, desired for its strength and availability. Not to mention its dark color, helping it hide within the darkness of night when they set sail.

He heard a familiar whistle coming from the ship and looked up. Another robed figure aboard had stuck his head out of a port-side window with giving him the quad-wave. That was the all-clear request. Taking one last glance behind him, he then responded with a quick, left-handed A-OK gesture, and the robed figure vanished within.

"Eyes up!" someone shouted in a frantic voice.

Glancing at the caller's outstretched arm, he quickly looked. There, in the sky, rocketed a set of bright, glowing colors, heading straight towards them. A magical attack?!?

"Defences!" he heard the captain yell.

That was his cue. Along with his co-sailors, he lunged for the large, metal magical generator onboard their ship and with great strength and effort, they turned the large wheel-like lever around, sparking the machine to life. With the mechanical energy, it produced a magic-based, slightly-transparent barrier, netting the entire ship from above in a large, dark dome. They usually only used this barrier to hold out against storms and the ravaging elements, but it could serve as a magical shield as well.

"Set sail!" the captain shouted, "All hands to your stations!"

In mere seconds, the ship came to life as dozens of shadows raced around the ship. The sails were dropped, and immediately, they caught wind. The anchor was also pulled up with tremendous effort, and just in time for the wind to start pulling the ship away from the dock.

Coming around with the wheel, he was at the right angle to glance up at the projectiles. They were still coming towards them, and he gripped the spoke of the wheel tighter.

"What the #$%@ did you do?" the shadow behind him asked.

Nothing! He didn't do anything wrong! He was absolutely positive it was clear. He held his posture, he stayed undercover, he ensured nobody was watching, and yet something caught on? No, it wasn't his fault. It couldn't have been!

The projectiles were close now, and as he came around again, unable to maintain a visual, he braced himself. There was a loud collision, and suddenly the machine lurched, sparking intensely. The wheel suddenly jerked backwards, and he took the blow in the chest, getting thrown back and knocked down to the ground. A loud crashing sound was heard, and the shield broke into shards, which fell and vanished around them.

*BOOOM!*

The entire ship shook, and a great ripple of water flowed out all around them. Suddenly, the ship was brightly lit in an intensely flickering light.

"Raaych yawsh kov lasston reichyaw saukiyn ad chass!"

He forced himself to turn. It wasn't a set of projectiles flying at them. They were creatures! Tall, skinny creatures, stretching at least 10 feet tall with bodies that glowed with a bright flame of their own individual color. The one in the middle, colored a bright, somewhat brightened brownish yellow, shouted at them in a strange, distorted voice. A huge blast of hot air blew across his face, and he found himself holding an arm up to not get burned.

Behind him, a trio of archers unleashed their crossbows at the centre figure, but the bolts suddenly burned up in mid-air, turning into small puffs of ash that harmlessly pelted its hide without even a flinch. He stared in horror as the Ochre creature's body burst into incredible flame, setting alight the sails above up.

"Aaachs fahss tooah rahtzi zyaen!"

Now the dark orange one was speaking up, but this one was more directed to her violent companion than their troops. All hands were now on deck, swords at the ready and spells ready for one simultaneous strike. But they held position. The ochre one turned its … head? Yeah, had to be. It turned its capped, three-eyed head to face the amber colored one.

Then it shouted at the amber one. Then the amber one shouted at it. The flames vanished from the ochre one's body, and instead, its oddly-warped hands clenched into flaming fists and were getting shaken violently at the amber one.

They were fighting! Their words were foreign, but agitated, and the shadows were no longer their concern. Why were they fighting each other all of the sudden?

A blunt force struck his back and he staggered into his spoke. The other shadows were turning the anchor wheel again, and he snapped out of his daze immediately. With fear pushing their muscles to the limit, they almost ran the wheel in circles, and he grew incredibly dizzy. The two creatures continued to shout and punch at each other, completely obvious to their actions and preparations.

Finally, the green one, which was just standing there watching all this time, finally approached the two bickerers. Speaking in the strange foreign tongue, it spoke with apparent reason for a moment while pointing with a clenched fist off towards mainland, and the two arguers both spread out their wings and leapt up off the ship and onto the shore-line, where their argument continued.

It then regretted this decision. The shadow captain, standing atop the starboard bow, gestured a silent order to restrain the creature. The swordsmen approached, shields up and in front of their faces. The green creature, realizing that he was now alone with their entire crew of shadows, held up both hands with widened eyes.

"Eybes oots-gan hetsbrya. Wraurtauon?" it said, its voice increasing in tone. It was asking them a question.

The warriors slowed their advance, but kept on going, and the green creature began to back up. It then turned and saw it was surrounded on both sides, and decided it was best it stayed in the middle.

"Ik byt tin cown?" it asked in a half-hissing, half-clicking voice, "Yaw frah ahkshraw?"

The anchor hit the side of the ship, and the wheel locked. No longer with the menial task to distract him, he listened into this creature's speech. Its tone and speed of speech kept on changing with each cluster of words. Was it, perhaps, trying to communicate with them?

He listened as it changed its words and manner of speach nearly a dozen times. It was completely trapped now, and above, he saw the crew on the two mast prepare a large net between the sails. Should it try to escape by flying, the net would tangle its wings and restrain it.

"Wr-r-r-r-i-i-ps wr-r-a-awk? Viv va vene veafa?"

Until finally:

"… how about now?"

Suddenly, all activity on the ship froze. The swordsmen stopped, eyes widened, and the creature relaxed. There was still hissing in its voice, but it wasn't as severe as when it spoke its original language.

"Ah. Ok. Good. You do know one." it said, relieved.

We "knew" one? He wanted to burst it out loud. This creature, one that they had never before encountered perhaps in the history of their race, was speaking their own dialect! It scanned over the crowd of stunned, staring shadows; their hands were shaking so much it was difficult to tell they knew they were holding weapons. It then looked at its surroundings, stretching a hand upwards towards the half-scorched sails. touching a small strand of cloth still smouldering, it burst into flames in an instant and burned away in a heartbeat. Such a reaction caused it to quickly retract the hand, as though it was surprised that its flaming body would actually set its surroundings on fire.

Which it already did. A lot.

"Listen, guys." he said, holding both "hands" up, "Sorry about the entrance, but my ally there is a little … "uncontrollable" at times. But in truth and humble honesty, we really don't mean to oppose you."

His well-respected captain shouted right back without a moment's hesitation, and he smiled with anticipation. This creature was going to get it now.

"Your "non-opposition" nearly destroyed our ship and almost KILLED us!" the captain shouted, with long black shadows enveloping his robes threateningly.

"Hey! How was I to know you build your boats out of flammable materials?" it blurted back, "Flammable boats. Dude! That's got to be the most stupidest thing one could possibly-"

It suddenly paused, eyes widened and cap stretched upward. With one long strode, it hurried to the edge of the boat and peered down into the dark waters below for a minute. It then turned back, smacking a hand against its forehead and muttering to itself.

"Yeah. Of course. Doi. The other world. Water not the temperature of liquid obsidian. Doesn't set fire to everything it touches. All right, that one's my bad."

Its glowing hide dimmed, and they no longer felt like he was getting blasted in the face by intense heat waves.

"I surrender to you." the green creature said, holding both hands in the air and dropping down to its knees, curling both tails around in front and folding its wings downward, "But on the request that you will take the three of us to your leader."

The captain smiled. He was about to order the shadows above with the net to let it drop when-

"Four."

Even the creature jumped. Behind them, a bright cobalt blue light suddenly appeared. Sitting on the air, cross-legged over the ornate guardrails sat a fourth creature, cross-legged and facing the ocean. This one was larger than the others, and by the looks of things, a lot more willing to put up a fight.

"Not three. Four. Can't you count?" it asked, sneering at the … coil of rope draped next to it? It too spoke their language.

"I CAN count, thank you." the lime-green creature argued back, still in the shadow-tongue to prove a point to them, "I just didn't know you were here."

"I am always here, aren't I?" the blue creature asked the rope, twisting itself around in mid-air as though underwater. Apparently, the magic known as gravity has missed one.

"If I wasn't here, I wouldn't be looking through my eyes. I would be looking through something else."

Lime sighed.

"Yes, you are." it said with a groan.

"But wait. Suppose I wasn't here." Cobalt hypothesized, "Who would be telling you that I was here? It would not be me, and yet it claims to be me."

Without warning, the Cobalt creature suddenly rocketed up at the captain, sticking its face so close to his own that he backed away in fear that it would have kissed him given one more second's hesitation.

"An impostor might be here!" it shouted, just missing his shoulder, "Do NOT listen to what he says! HE IS NOT ME! I AM!"

And then Cobalt suddenly shot like a dart off the edge of the ship and into the water. There was no splash, but the blue light vanished nonetheless.

There was a long silence. Even the two bickering creatures stopped fighting. Lime, blinking a few times, shrugged the event off immediately.

"So." he turned back to the shadow captain, "About that request?"

Still in a daze, the shadow captain spluttered something about "lunatics". Lime was about to ask him to repeat what he said when-

"LOOK OUT!"

The warning from the Crows Nest snapped them back to reality if the flaming ballista bolt that sailed over their heads already didn't. The air was filled with the sounds of battle-cry. Glancing over the edge of the ship, the captain saw a set of dotted lights approaching the ship. It was a legion of knights, heading right for them with ballistas in tow! They must've come to investigate the commotion and light-show that the creatures had given. Instinct taking over, the majority of then suddenly dropped to the ground as a hailstorm of arrows shot over their heads.

"Pull out! PULL OUT!" the captain yelled, crawling toward the wheel and giving it a good turn.

His crew reacted, running to their stations. The sails were dropped, but were revealed to have several burns and scorched holes from the creature's "entrance". Instead, oars were let out, and the hurried paddling began. The circle of archers turned their bows off the creature and fired them into the masses, but there was far too many coming. What's more, the majority had horses. The ship jerked as a large ballista bolt planted itself right in the starboard hull. The captain was thrown to the side, away from the wheel, which began to spin out of control until he caught it with his foot.

But they weren't moving. The ship was caught on the tide, and the oars were not enough. He was out of options. They were going to be overwhelmed in the next minute if a miracle didn't happen. The crew scrambled to fight back, but they were taking heavy fire and heavier water. Looking down at the deck, he saw the lime creature still down on its knees, unmoved. Any arrow that came in close proximity to it burned away into nothingness, and some of his crew were even utilizing it as cover. Its attention was still on him and his decision.

As much as he didn't want to risk bringing a strange, foreign creature with unknown alignment back to base, they were going to be in trouble either way. If the humans captured the boat and its navigational charts, they would be led right to Lawrence.

"You!" the shadow captain shouted to Lime as he crawled back onto the wheel, "Get us out to sea, and we'll take you to our boss, Lawrence."

With a quick nod, Lime leapt to his feet and, spreading his wings, immediately flew onto the shore to meet with his brethren, who were individually fighting back with incredible speed and dexterity. They rocketed between guards, setting them on fire or melting their armor onto them while almost ricocheting themselves amongst the masses. Needless to say, the humans were keeping their distance from them, but they were not standing in the way of the ship.

After a quick exchange of words in their own language, all three creatures rocketed around and flowed themselves right into the back of the ship.

*FWOOOOSH!*

The sudden burst of speed threw almost everyone off their feet. Hanging onto the wheel for dear life, the captain looked behind him and watched the landmass vanish in a matter of seconds. A ballista bolt arched toward them, but it feel with a fizzling splash several feet away. They were well out of range now.

The three creatures flew up and back onto the deck. Unfortunately, the ochre one's wings made contact with the sails (or what was left of them), and much yelling ensued.

"What? Why you make so flame taking?" the Ochre creature argued to the captain in a much more inexperienced tongue.

"It doesn't matter." Lime argued for the captain, "This one's your fault. You didn't check their flammability, and you mistakenly burned them. You were not as careful as we should've been."

"Careful?" Ochre spat at the word, "They weak. Their fault. Not mine."

Lime then began speaking in their own tongue. After the first sentence, though, Ochre suddenly grabbed it by the throat and yanked it to less than half a foot away. Ochre growled an obvious threat, and the shadows whipped out their swords and surrounded the duo while the Amber one crossed its arms and let them fight. Lime then said something for a good full minute. Its tone of voice made it apparent that it was reminding Ochre of a status of some kind.

After it finished speaking, there was a long frozen silence, but then Ochre finally cooled off and released Lime. It then stormed off and sat cross-legged at the tip of the mast while Lime rubbed its throat. The shadow captain hesitated for a minute before hailing Lime.

"What's your name?" he demanded more than asked.

Lime hesitated before speaking, "I don't have a name. None of us use names. If we want non-Ormra to refer to us, though, they refer to us by the colors of our hides."

"Fine, then. Bright-Green." the captain said, "Despite getting us into that situation in the first place, you got us out of it just as well. Because of that, I am going to uphold my agreement to take you to our leader."

Lime bowed his head, "I thank you, ... Shaascom."

The captain, with some effort, decided to assume the name to mean "ship's captain" in their language.

"However, because our sails are now destroyed … again, because of you," he continued, crossing his arms, "I'm afraid I am no longer capable of bringing you to our leader."

Lime looked at the captain. He then looked at the scorched sails. And then he looked at the captain again.

"Ochre's not going to like this." it muttered, turning towards its comrades.

"He's going to have to take some responsibility for his actions." the commanding shadow asserted.

"Yeah, see, why don't I let YOU talk to him, then?" Lime said over his shoulder, pointing a finger. The captain said nothing, and Lime turned back to "negotiate" an alternate method of locomotion with its more, easily aggravated comrades.

The captain flopped down onto the ground, clutching his head and closing his eyes.

Why, Zamorak? What had I done to deserve this?

momsrascal93 · **Posted:** April 16th, 2011, 8:41 pm

Regan, the captain of this ship, grew ever more nervous as he approached his homeland of the Shadow Isles. It seemed like anything he did at this point would destroy him so he docked and grudgingly walked off the ship with the strange creatures following him. Citizens and the Shadow Guard alike, eyed the four creatures suspiciously, prepared to attack at any moment with everything they could muster. They came to a home that was larger than the rest and entered. It was not only Lawrence's home, but it was also something of a town hall. They came to a small office which Lawrence worked from. Lawrence looked up at Regan and the creatures, back down to his paperwork, and then did a double take of what he saw before. He blinked to make sure he wasn't seeing things. A small group of the Shadow Guard had followed them inside.

"Regan... Can I talk to you...?" Lawrence asked darkly. Darkrascal could sense Lawrence's anger for it seemed to create the darkest aura around him. Regan nervously stepped into the room. "Shut the door." Lawrence requested, and he did. "Regan... What the hell were those?" He asked.

"We don't know." The ships captain, Regan, responded.

"All right... How and why did you bring them here, even after I specifically told you that you are, under no circumstances, allowed to transport outsiders here?" He asked more aggressively. Regan then went on to tell Lawrence the entire story of what happened.

"They saved us from being captured by knights, and they made themselves the only way of getting back here." Regan explained. Lawrence stood up from his chair.

"You're telling me that your lives were more important than the majority?" He asked. "You didn't consider destroying the ship and going down with it?" He asked.

"That's madness!" Regan protested.

"Madness..." Lawrence muttered. He called his Zamorakian katana to his hand and sliced the captain mercilessly. "What's madness is the fact that you would risk everything we worked for!" He screamed. He started stabbing at the captain's vital organs, which regenerated as he stabbed at them. "You think I like doing this!? You think I like the fact that you've recklessly put us all in danger!?" He interrogated.

"No, sir!!" Regan squealed in pain. Darkrascal, finally fed up with hearing her fellow shadow's screams, rushed and tackled her husband, pushing him across the room.

"That's enough!" She screamed, prepared to beat him to a bloody pulp if he didn't desist. Lawrence took deep breath and calmed down almost instantly.

"By the way Regan, you're fired." He said. Regan groaned as his body regenerated the best it could from the trauma it endured. Shadows could survive being mutilated like this under the right conditions, such as those in Lawrence's office. "Get him out of here." He said.

"Now, what business do the creatures have here...?" Lawrence asked in the calmest voice he could muster as his wife slowly allowed him to stand. The door was opened and ex ship captain was carried out by Darkrascal as the four creatures were escorted in by the Shadow Guard...

Alex 43 · **Posted:** April 18th, 2011, 9:00 pm

By what it appears, I might be using Hunt longer than I thought. So this is to avoid any accusations:

Name: Konwen Hunt (The Unknown)
Gender: Male?
Age: Around 400 000 years.
Race: Guardian
Alignment: The Unknown (Himself)
Weapons: A Hingaerd - a double-ended spiky halberd-like weapon that can fold up by a circular hinge in the centre into a hatchet-like device. The spikes are curved internally for the purpose of shredding anything it slices into ribbons with ease. Armor included. Can also "remove" objects as large as a human head by a mid-range technique.
Armor: Golden suit of armor, with a golden mask. Not an alloy; pure gold. It's assumed he wears it merely for the weight benefit, as the armor would otherwise be nothing but a handicap.
Strengths: A powerful, maniacal warrior all-around.
Weaknesses: Overconfident and temperamental; works alone, and will even turn against and destroy allies if he deems them unnecessary.
Physical Description: A Guardian, guised in golden armor and purple cloak with a white-gold symbol of his own choosing on his chest. A hood covers most of his head, which is directly sewn into a golden mask with three small slits for the eyes and mouth. The cloak, sleeved and sewn into a half-robe, covers up most of the armor when not in combat. Only Alex has seen the nightmare that lurks underneath the mask, and that isn't going to change anytime soon.
Personality: If you think you have had a rough uprising, he will laugh in your face and you will have nothing to retaliate with. He is blunt, forceful, and altogether unnerving, casting fear into even his allies not for respect, but instead so they realize who they're dealing with. He would take great pleasure in being your enemy, and trust me when I say you don't want that. Refusing to create friendship bonds of any kind, he keeps himself his own isolated force; his own warrior, bent on fighting for none but himself. It's the only thing worth fighting for, in his opinion.
History: He was trained in one of the harshest temples the Guardians had to offer, for the incentive that he would be forced into his most toughest potential. That's all his parents wanted out of him, anyways. He despised them both for what he had to go through, and was not afraid to altogether abandon the sacred grounds of the Guardians and cast himself into the realm of reality to extract revenge. Not for the upbringing. He accepts the past as being just that. Instead, he wanted revenge for the mortals having cast them into such a state that warriors like himself had to have been pounded out like that in the first place. Like the rest of the Guardians, he too had to fulfill the long-term wish of a mortal to unlock his abilities. He wasted no time in doing that, and unlike many guardians before him, he was successful. Believing himself to be far more capable and superior than the mortals, he wasted no time in betraying them straight after, thanks to the influence and collaboration of the Deity of the Unknown; Daemreyuant, whom had loaned him power in exchange for the Unknown's physical body to house itself.
Since the battle against K, Alex, and Dex, the Unknown had been stripped of Daemreyuant's power, but still maintained his role as being the Guardian of the Unknown. As such, his own power remains unlocked, and he still poses a significant threat to the mortal realm. However, thanks to K's presence in the realm, safeguarding any of his opposition, the Unknown continued to remain somewhat dormant; working behind the scenes on minor tasks and projects and avoiding anything major enough to get any undesired attention. Nevertheless, his own power is still highly developed, and he still remains a very difficult adversary.

And to bring to mention my usage of a "God" character, which Hunt clearly is. To abide to Rule 1, I will not be using Hunt for resolving any major fights or conflicts the characters will be up against. He will sit in the background, watch with a gleeful smile, and if anything, probably loot all the souls of those already dead for himself.

________________________________________

TOWER OF THE STAR
________________________________________

"I do not think I will ever understand this concept humans call "art"." Hunt mumbled as Alex touched down.

"You just have to have flexible standards." Alex replied, sucking his temporary enogan skin back into the adamantite suit of armor, "I know K really enjoys music, mainly for the nice sound it makes."

"You cannot set a standard if you don't know what the standards are." Hunt argued, "With K, he at least has something general to relate to."

"Well … OK, then. Look at the Tower. What do you see?"

There was the Tower of the Star, stretched out in front of them. During his absence, Alex noted that it had hardly changed save for a few renovations here and there. The season was ripe for the garden decor to be more colourful than the last time he was there, and by the looks of things, they had done an impressive job at repairing the damage that Venos caused a while ago in a somewhat provoked rage. Alex had landed directly in the courtyard, mostly to avoid attention to Hunt, who had replaced his mask and turned once again into the steam-breathing, cold, Zamorakian-like human.

Hunt was negligent at the proposal Sartranomin made him. Alex's Lord was letting Hunt intermingle with his humans for the experience and, hopefully, to get Hunt used to their existence. In exchange for the experience, of course, Hunt had to obey Alex's guidance and stay close. Just getting to boss the Unknown around like this was perhaps the only true incentive Alex really had to accept the task in the first place. Nevertheless, he restricted the usage of these "modulative" powers; knowing Hunt's personality, it would just lead to an attack, some bloodshed, and a lot of regret if he tried anything unnecessary.

However, this conversation was provoked by the Unknown, so Alex took full advantage of it. Perhaps if he got Hunt interested in figuring out the subliminalities of art, perhaps he could change Hunt's outlook and view on the mortal race.

"I see a structure, made of stone. Several windows. A large white star on top." Hunt mused.

"All right. So what do you think it represents?"

Hunt looked at Alex as though he just swore.

"What kind of question is that?"

"One without any right or wrong answers." Alex replied.

Alex asked that question while figuring out the answer himself. To him, the bright white Tower represented a tall, almost overwhelming icon of peace and sanctuary, isolated on a small island and away from the real world. Only in its own world, the essence of peace could stand tall and freely while everywhere else, where it mattered more, it was spread out to a weaker extent, where the presence of evil boasted a greater dominance in large landmasses like the wilderness and Morytania. This tower represented an escape from the cruel sufferings of reality, where only those devoted enough who strived and worked for it could utilize to the fullest extent.

"… you just told me it is the meeting point and headquarters of Gielinor's peace faction. Assuming you did not lie to me, which I can tell, I'd be an idiot to think otherwise."

"But pretend, if for but a second, that I didn't, and you just saw it for the first time as you touched down onto this planet." Alex tried, "What would you think it was, just based off what you were looking at? Look at the Tower, and while pretending you know nothing about it, try to figure out just what it's all about. Why the builders built it, and why the architects designed it in such a peculiar pattern."

Hunt gave the Tower a good, long look, and with each passing moment, Alex's hopes arose.

Until …

"A structure larger than the rest due to the occupants being more greedy, wealthy, and possibly more claustrophobic than the average human. Reflects directly off a collaborative personality. Avoid unless no other human representatives are available."

Alex gave up. The only thing that mortals had that Guardians didn't was the ability to create and manufacture in a mere thought. The way their minds worked were far superior to the Guardians, and he just had to accept it.

But, he tried. Dangit, he tried.

"Allezyamos. Do you honestly think that, even with this disguise, they'll just let me in?" Hunt asked, hoping for an honest opinion, "This is the headquarters of something I am against. I had met a few of them on the battlefield in the past and killed several. I don't doubt they'll recognize me."

"Provided you don't immediately start beheading people as you enter and stay close to me," Alex nodded, "I think they'll give you a chance. They're not as "tolerative" as Zamorakians, but they are more forgiving. Especially if a trusted hero like myself stands up for you."

"That's nothing to brag about." Hunt muttered quickly, but turned before Alex could ask him to repeat it.

Alex eyed Hunt up and down, just to make sure they didn't miss anything. Hands covered in gauntlets, feet covered in boots and greaves, mask tightly sewn into the hood, which was also attached to the collar of the armor, which in turn had no rips anywhere. Nice thing about Gods and Deities was that no matter their alignment and allegiance, they were always good dressers and they took good care of their clothes and uniforms.

"But just to be safe, I think you should turn that symbol into the Saradomin star." Alex advised, prodding the centre of Hunt's plate-mail where his own, unique symbol resided, "If they see the symbol of the Unknown, they might want to question you."

"If they stick their noses too far, I'll shred them off."

"Again, it would be … "ideal" if we could avoid any of that."

Hunt acknowledged with a grumble. He placed both hands on either side of the symbol, and like a fluid, the white gold shifted its shape around to form a rather somewhat crude, but obvious four-sided star. It was clear he didn't like the idea as much as Alex did. Alex would've just shrugged it off, but this was too serious a situation to have these minor sorts of mess-ups. He had to have the symbol perfectly, or else he would be seen as a traitor.

"The points have to be sharp, like mine is." Alex critiqued, "And the vertical ones are slightly longer than the horizontal in my case, but it really doesn't matter. So long as both vertical and both horizontal are the same length. Also, ignore this gap on mine; the star is supposed to be whole."

Hunt grumbled some more, but took Alex's advice and shifted the symbol around some more. After 10 long minutes of critiquing, Alex finally managed to get Hunt to form a perfectly hewn Saradomin star into his chest plate.

"And if anyone offers me a funny-looking hat to go with it, I'm burning it while it's still in their hand." Hunt threatened, somewhat humiliated at the symbol.

Alex simply chuckled as they approached the Tower doors. He doubted anyone in the Tower would do that.

… he hoped nobody would, anyways.

________________________________________

SHADOW ISLE DOCKS
________________________________________

"You said he "fired", yet I smell no charcoal." Ochre immediately growled, his body igniting with harsh flame. The roof, almost too low for the creatures, began to turn a dark grey directly above Ochre.

Lawrence maintained his composure, "By fired, I meant he was removed from service."

Ochre squinted as though the explanation made no difference.

"Hey shrimp, don'tcha kill 'em when they ain't useful no moah'?" Amber asked disappointedly with both hands crossed. Because of her long, skinny arms, it looked as though she was holding both elbows out.

"First off, the name is Lawrence." Lawrence stood from his seat, "Second off, you four don't intimidate me!"

"Three." Cobalt corrected.

All eyes turned to him quizzically, but he was no longer there. Ochre growled, Lime sighed, and Amber rolled her three eyes. Typical behavior.

"You best think about those words more." Ochre hissed, "I care not who you are."

Lawrence didn't back down. He met the Ochre creature's eyes without hesitation.

"I think it's time you learned a little respect," he sneered, his sword in one hand, "Once I'm through with you, you will learn to stay your tongue where it doesn't belong. Provided you still have it after I'm through with you."

That did it. Ochre growled menacingly and leaned forward with a fist pulsing with bright, flaming light. Amber sat in the air, watching gleefully, but Lime provided them with a better resolution before she got a chance to be entertained.

"Hey. Guys." he half-whispered to his comrades while prying Ochre and Lawrence away from each other, "Why don't you all just wait outside, and I'll talk to the human? Hm? How about it?"

There was a long pause. Ochre pushed forward slightly, but it was only to hiss at Lawrence.

"Fine then. Keep your head, but I'll be taking five of your soldiers instead." Ochre threatened, "And you'd best learn from that if you knew what's good for you."

Lawrence held his sword up to swing, but Ochre turned away and stormed off. Amber, eager for a share, trotted off after him. As for Cobalt, one can only assume he followed as well for his own personal reasons. They didn't know, but he didn't show up again until later. Lime held his hands up in surrender and compromise.

"Please, human. Don't anger him any more, or he'll consume your entire army into an ashen vortex; you included." he begged.

"I will NOT have him massacring my troops!" Lawrence shouted, about to give chase. Suddenly, Lime zipped over to the doorway, almost phasing through the air in an instant to block it with his body and crossed legs.

"Look, I feel for you, and I wish I could control him, but I can't." he pleaded, "You're going to have to make the sacrifice. It's the only way to calm him down."

Lawrence looked menacingly at Lime's eyes, but he didn't doubt this creature possessed similar capabilities as the Ochre one. Re-sheathing his sword, he walked back to his seat.

"I don't have many troops left." Lawrence said, "Even losing just five is too much. If I'm to redeem Zamorak's forces and regroup for a pre-emptive strike, I'm going to need to-"

"Wait, hold on!" the Lime-green creature said, approaching with its hands down and eyes wide, "Zamorak? The Mahjarrat General?"

"Yes. Lord Zamorak." Lawrence said, "Our God."

"God now? Geez! He really has been doing something with his life!"

Lawrence was shocked. The creature was showing a genuine interest to their Lord Zamorak. Almost as though he knew him.

Lime squatted down a bit, "Can't even believe he's still alive! No way!"

Lawrence had a better question, "How do you know him?"

"KNOW him?!?" Lime asked, "Dude! We used to be snatch-buds for nearly a Roundabout. Heck, I even remember sneaking into his reception where he got his General status. Had to do a full six-point squat crawl under the back-set drapes. Hard to do especially with an entire co-hort standing in all directions. But I did it for him, cause I promised I would see him for the achievement. Bunch o' guards caught me and were about to lug me out, when Zamorak saw it and dismissed them immediately. Said I was an honorary guest. Even included me in his speech as being his inspiration to go into the military! I'd have my wings cut off if he didn't remember me!"

Lawrence was skeptical. Very much so. If this was a creature so closely affiliated with Zamorak, why had he never heard of it? Or any of them, for that matter?

"Course, he was a General now, and i remained a low-life. Saw each other now and then, but as the rounds went by, the time frame between meetings seemed to just double each time. Sometimes a wave and handshake while he patrolled. Sometimes just walked into the same eatery coincidentally. Soon, I never saw him at all, and one of his friends told me that Zamorak had been brought to this world by some other God. Zorgos or something like that. Last I'd heard of him since that."

Lawrence suddenly found himself very interested with this creature. Lime suddenly perked up, and his upper cap-like section of his head stretched upwards.

"... wait. Then that means ..." Lime said, "This is that world. And Zamorak's a God now ..."

Lime swiftly and suddenly turned to Lawrence. He slammed both hands onto the table, and large burnt patches instantly appeared.

"Where is he?" he demanded, "Is he here? I want to speak with him! How do you know him? SPEAK, human!"

momsrascal93 · **Posted:** April 19th, 2011, 8:40 pm

"Actually, we're technically not human." Lawrence corrected the creature. "And as for meeting Zamorak..." He trailed off.

"Lawrence and I were made by Zamorak himself. We're in touch, but only on urgent matters." Darkrascal, who had rejoined them said.

"Please do be careful. A lot of these materials are flammable." Lawrence said, frowning over the fact that so much as having to replace a table was too much trouble for him. Darkrascal and the green creature ignored him.

"It used to be safe for me to visit him directly but we can't do that right now, so I keep in touch with him through the altar in our church." she answered. "It's a short walk from here." she said. "But in case ya couldn't tell, we're not doing so well. We're really paranoid about all outsiders. It's nothing against you, we have something against everyone. Zamorak's in danger and quite frankly your destructive nature, which I would normally admire anytime else, really isn't helping us, and we really can't handle accepting any outside help right now." She said, explaining their situation. Shadows were like that. They were naturally dependent on themselves and their fellow Zamorakian, but due to past events, they've grown scared to even trust humans.

"We will let you contact Zamorak, but then you must leave here and for the sake of everyone's sanity, please don't return." Lawrence offered.

Jasonmrc · **Posted:** May 2nd, 2011, 12:13 pm

Hey guys, sorry about the delay. I've been busy and haven't been able to think clear enough to write. I'll start on the Meeting in my next post.

----

She stood there, in the center of the circle of enemies. Mostly demons with a scarce few black knights and some vampires. These were the last of a rare few survivors of Lawrence's army. When the Heroes attacked Rellekka these soldiers (a total of about a hundred) were only a small portion of the many that ran into the hills of Trollweis Mountain. Unlike the rest, though, these soldiers had been able to hide from the trolls and eventually made their way into the wilderness. When they found their General's fortress in ruin they continued east to Morytania.

Only, they hadn't counted on Her following them.

She stood there, a tall, brown figure. Motionless. Waiting for their first move.

And then it came.

One.

Single.

Foolish attack.

They all charged her at once.

In an instant she turned around and whipped out her dual Dragon hand crossbows and fired. Each of the 20 bolts pierced the heart of one of the enemies. A demon came up from behind and swung at her. She jumped onto its arm, ran up it, stood on its shoulder, and flipped one crossbow into the air, reloaded the other, and then caught and reloaded that one. She then did a backflip off the demon and fired one shot into its back.

A black knight came up and swung at her. She blocked with her arm and then kicked him in the face and pierced his armor with another bolt. She fired another volley into the remaining army, dropping 18 more enemies. As a set of vampires came in to attack from the rear she hooked her crossbows onto her belt and pulled out her sword. She kicked one and stabbed the other through the chest. She took a piece of wood from her belt and slammed it through the chest wound of the second vampire and it screemed as its life vanished and its body turned into ashes. She spun and around and beheaded the other vampire and then pulled the wood from the second vampire and used the same tactic against the other. Another shrill screamed pierced the air.

The army continued its advance, despite already losing 40 percent of its strength. They didn't have much of a choice though. If they ran she would just hunt them down one by one during the night, for even their demonic eyes could not see her in the shadows of darkness.

And so they came, this time two black demons were leading the charge. They both swung their large clawlike hands at her but she ducked both and instead they hit each other. She took the opportunity to stab one behind the knee. She then jumped onto its back as it fell to its knees and stabbed it through its back straight into its heart. The other demon, only just now realizing it had missed its target, turned around just in time to see Her fire a bolt straight info its heart.

She turned around just in time to do a nigh impossible backwards lean to dodge the swing from a black knight. She fired into his open side as his swing flew harmlessly above her. Several more black knights were close behind so she hooked her crossbow onto her belt again and drew her quarterstaff. In one fluid, graceful, motion she extended it to full length and took out one of the advancing knights in the process. She spun it around and twirled it in her hands and hit the visors of 5 of the knights with so much force that they flew back a few feet and did not get up.

Fifty down, fifty to go.

By now the remaining army was too close for her to use her crossbows, so she fought with her quarterstaff in mainhand and her sword in offhand. Every movement seemed so graceful that it must have been choreographed.

But it wasn't.

In a matter of seconds she had finished off the rest of the army. Not a mortal soul was left living there and no sound could be heard save for the wind blowing the ashes of fallen demons and vampires. The entire battle had taken less than a minute.

"Impressive, a full 14 seconds faster than last time."

She didn't turn around to face the speaker, she knew who it was. Who couldn't remember His voice?

"Didn't know I was being timed, otherwise I would've been faster." She replied, still without turning as she reloaded her bolt cartridges.

A cloaked man approached though no sound was made.

"You're still as deviously pretty as the first day we met."

"Save it. You know weapons don't have ears on this plane." She replied as she closed the last cartridge and stood up.

He grinned, but then his face turned grave, "It's Time."

She was silent. But as she sheathed her sword and packed her staff she sighed and replied, "I know. But...I don't want to. Isn't there another way?"

"No, I have searched many centuries and spoken to many of the Celestiens and there is no other way."

"Couldn't another do it?"

"There are no other strong enough, neither of power nor will. Of those that may be willing, none would be capable. They would all become corrupt and He would return more stronger than ever."

"What about you? Couldn't y-"

"No," He replied firmly, "Even I must abide by these terms of this plane. For Mahjarrat to travel between Gielinor and Freneskae there must be atleast two. The Laws require the two to be akin, thus only a Mahjarrat and its brethren may travel together."

"And," She started to reply and then paused, "may I return here?"

After a long moment of silence, which may have been an hour, a day, a month, or even a year, He replied, "No."

After some time, perhaps when it had fully sunken in, She replied with a powerful, "NOOOOOO!" Dust, rocks, small trees, corpses, and anything else which was not firmly secured went flying through the air as an aura of power emanated around Her in a sphereical shape. The man, however, remained where he was, completely unaffected aside from his cloak blowing around wildy.

He stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders, "I tried. But They would not allow it."

The power subsided and the place became dead quiet again. She seemed to be weeping but there were no sounds nor tears.

"Come, we have much to do."