RuneScape - Ragnarok

 This article, RuneScape - Ragnarok, is a Role-Play Article.

= Basic Idea =

RuneScape has for decades thronged with adventurers, some changing the world as we know it, others not. But the times of peace and stability that for years has been in control is soon to be shattered. The Khult, an army of magi, are preparing a massive invasion to wipe the world of all the non-magic users. They are not the only threat - in the shadows, other groups lie in wait for the time to strike. It will be up to the various heroes scattered across the world to turn the tide and save RuneScape from complete oblivion by the combined forces of evil.

= Rules =


 * 1) All posts must work with both the wiki's and Jagex's rules.
 * 2) Everyone should work together while writing.
 * 3) This role play is set in the RuneScape universe. So no space ships, nukes or whatever. (See below for a guide)
 * 4) This role play is open to all, but especially the newer users of the wiki. So experienced users, try and help them out.
 * 5) No using another person's characters without permission.
 * 6) Enjoy yourself! Let this role play be entertaining for both you and the reader.

= Fictional items =

To ensure that the role play is set properly within the RuneScape universe, I've made some guidelines as to what you can and can't use in the role play. (These are examples to show the category - if you have any questions, contact me with a link to the page and I'll decide what to do).

Allowed
If it looks like you'd find it in RuneScape, or got a feasible RuneScape-based backstory, then it's allowed. For instance, Jigo22's Flamed gloves are allowed to be used. As for locations, as long as they don't displace anything real that's okay - for instance, destroying Crandor isn't allowed. SenjutsuVII's Shuin_Island image would be allowed, as it doesn't actively displace anything in RuneScape. Making references to the events in fan-made quests is fine, provided they don't drastically alter the continuity of RuneScape.

I'm adding a concession here - because I want to make this realistic to both the real world and RuneScape, I'm going to let you say that all RuneScape cities and towns are significantly larger, and that the RuneScape world itself is also enlarged - imagine each square in the countryside of the game being equivalent to a mile or so. That way RuneScape is large enough for a feasible geo-politcal landscape (and population - Varrock has about 20 or so NPCs tha rule a kingdom?). And also for the fact that, if the Khult invaded with it's 30,000 so members, there'd barely be a space left in the game world.

Disallowed
If it's got anything more advanced than 17th century Europe, I don't wanna hear about it.

= Participants =

Haru Axeman 21:56, 11 May 2009 (UTC)
 * Fegaxeyl 08:31, 17 April 2009 (UTC)
 * 21:13, 17 April 2009 (UTC)
 * [[Image:BerusRune-2-5-.png]]God of Berusness[[Image:BerusSwords-1-.png]] 22:39, 20 April 2009 (UTC)
 * SenjutsuVII 06:42, 18 April 2009 (UTC)
 * . 10:45, 18 April 2009 (UTC)
 * Mr. Garrison 13:20, 18 April 2009 (UTC)
 * Wightwing 03:41, 27 April 2009 (UTC)
 * Andrew 17:33, 18 April 2009 (UTC) - Minor
 * Lolman180l
 * 21:10, 29 April 2009 (UTC)
 * --2401 Pagent--The Beliver--The Pwner--Saradomin ROCKZ!!!!!!! 15:34, 10 May 2009 (UTC)
 * --2401 Pagent--The Beliver--The Pwner--Saradomin ROCKZ!!!!!!! 15:34, 10 May 2009 (UTC)
 * Sasuke Kiddy 16:30, 28 May 2009 (UTC)

=Characters=

You must have signed as a participant before you can add your characters.

Fegaxeyl

 * Name: Elix Makar
 * Age: 39
 * Aim: To restore himself to his former glory
 * Occupation: Mercenary for criminal gangs
 * Allignment: Good
 * Religion: Saradomin


 * Name: Marat Xeyos
 * Age: Unknown; reckoned around 200 years
 * Aim: To bring all of RuneScape under his control
 * Occupation: Supreme leader of the Khult
 * Allignment: Evil
 * Religion: None

Chiafriend12

 * Name: Chia Bollin
 * Age: 26
 * Aim: Protect his nation from any threats it may face
 * Occupation: Falador Guard
 * Allignment: Good
 * Religion: Saradomin


 * Name: Horacio Demwalli
 * Age: 30
 * Aim: One day become an influential leader of Asgarnia
 * Occupation: Falador Guard Captain
 * Allignment: Good
 * Religion: Guthix


 * Name: Jon Ransaid
 * Age: 28
 * Aim: Fight crime and the 'forces of evil'.
 * Occupation: Falador Guard Deputee
 * Allignment: Good; cocky
 * Religion: Saradomin


 * Name: Pyotr Familayavich
 * Age: 24
 * Aim: Make a living doing his job.
 * Occupation: Falador Guard
 * Allignment: Good
 * Religion: Saradomin


 * Name: Frank Gizzor
 * Age: 32
 * Aim: Keep crime in Falador at a minimum.
 * Occupation: Falador Guard Lieutenant
 * Allignment: Good
 * Religion: Guthix


 * Name: Emily Draynor
 * Age: 25
 * Aim: Protect Falador from law breakers.
 * Occupation: Falador Guard Deputee
 * Allignment: Good
 * Religion: Saradomin

Berus

 * Name: Thaltis
 * Age: 32
 * Aim: To assist the Khult in its invasion and then take out Marat.
 * Occupation: Higher ranked member of the Khult.
 * Allignment: Evil
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Sileo Umbra
 * Age: Unknown
 * Aim: To somehow come out on top after the chaos.
 * Occupation: Thief, Murderer, Leader of the Whispered Death.
 * Allignment: Neutral. He is just looking to come out on top.
 * Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder).


 * Name: Timor
 * Age: 29
 * Aim: Assist Sileo Umbra.
 * Occupation: First Master of the Whispered Death.
 * Allignment: Neutral.
 * Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder).


 * Name: Ruo Letalis
 * Age: 37
 * Aim: Assist Sileo Umbra.
 * Occupation: Second Master of the Whispered Death.
 * Allignment: Neutral.
 * Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder).


 * Name: Crescent Seiler
 * Age: 32
 * Aim: Assist Sileo Umbra.
 * Occupation: Third Master of the Whispered Death.
 * Allignment: Neutral.
 * Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder).


 * Name: Robin Erus
 * Age: 29
 * Aim: Assist Sileo Umbra.
 * Occupation: Fourth Master of the Whispered Death.
 * Allignment: Neutral.
 * Religion: Velius (a small religion in his group based around thievery and murder).

SenjutsuVII

 * Name: Warlic Seraph
 * Age: Always 60, never ages
 * Aim: To assist the Khult and to destroy all sentient beings on runescape
 * Occupation: Dark Mage
 * Alignment: Evil
 * Religion: Medaroth (an ancient mini-religion which is based on magics and sorcery}


 * Name: Metus Helicaa
 * Age: 31
 * Aim: To seek and destroy his Nemesis from his past
 * Occupation: None; An adventurer on runescape
 * Alignment: Any if it takes him a step closer to achieve his goal
 * Religion: Guthix


 * Name: Mark Phillips
 * Age: 28
 * Aim: To become a powerful warrior and assist Marat
 * Occupation: General of Protectors
 * Alignment: Good
 * Religion: Guthix


 * Name: Lance Rider
 * Age: 31
 * Aim: To look good and to be known to many people across runescape, and to stop Warlic Seraph
 * Occupation: A Retired Admiral
 * Alignment: Good
 * Religion: Saradomin


 * Name: Thetys Minas
 * Age: 78
 * Aim: To train Lance to be able to defeat Warlic Seraph
 * Occupation: A powerful mage
 * Alignment: Good
 * Religion: Medaroth


 * Name: Chaotic Lord Drakath
 * Age: 36
 * Aim: To overpower the Khult and bring chaos to the land of Gielinor
 * Occupation: Leader of the Chaotic Order
 * Alignment: Evil but also against Zamorak
 * Religion: Exannin


 * Name: Dragonlord Snider
 * Age: 34
 * Aim: To assist Drakath with his plans of total Chaos
 * Occupation: Drakath's personal bodyguard and messenger
 * Alignment: Evil but also against Zamorak
 * Religion: Exannin

The evil dude

 * Name: Lustan Moar
 * Age: 45
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Guild Leader/ Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Aurora Sharpshot
 * Age: 23
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Zane Furel
 * Age: 33
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: TzHaar-Ket-Hax
 * Age: 250
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Snipes
 * Age: 177
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Nastre
 * Age: 111
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: B-OOM
 * Age: Unknown
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Brutus
 * Age: 90
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Toadfinger
 * Age: 60
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Bonecrusher
 * Age: 101
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Rockgrinder
 * Age: 101
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Alvion Shareen
 * Age: 32
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Hammersmith
 * Age: 50
 * Aim: To work for the right price
 * Occupation: Bounty Hunter
 * Allignment: Neutral
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Xeraz
 * Age: Unknown
 * Aim: To be revealed
 * Occupation: Warrior
 * Allignment: Evil
 * Religion: Zaros

Mr. Garrison

 * Name: Mr. Collins
 * Age: 61
 * Aim: To collect
 * Occupation: Retired to Lumbridge; former merchant in Ardougne
 * Alignment: Morally grey
 * Religion: Armadyl


 * Name: Neville Jones
 * Age: 21
 * Aim: To fight back against 'the enemy'
 * Occupation: Too deluded to be employed
 * Alignment: Good
 * Religion: 'The Great God of the Clock Tower'

ToaBionicle

 * Name: Death
 * Age: Infinite
 * Aim: To usher souls into the next world
 * Occupation: The anthropomorphic personification of Death.
 * Alignment: Amoral - no understanding of right or wrong.
 * Religion: None


 * Name: Orion
 * Age: 82
 * Aim: To assist Death.
 * Occupation: Death's Apprentice
 * Alignment: Good
 * Religion: Saradomin

Jack Spiral1
Feel free to use Jack if you want to, but please don't kill him, ty Lolman180l = Name: Ahsa theradas
 * Name: Jack
 * Age: 18
 * Aim: To find out who killed his master, the wizard Alpher, and wreak his revenge on them.
 * Occupation: Mage/Thief adventurer in search of answers
 * Alignment: Good
 * Religion: Saradomin


 * Age: 51
 * Aim: To learn the most powerful of nature magic
 * Occupation: High earth mage
 * Alignment: Nuetral
 * Religion: Guthix


 * Name: High prophet Thahasha
 * Age: 85
 * Aim: To find the power of enternal life, to
 * Occupation: Necromancer that has become a holy paladin, using the power of necromancty against other evil necromancers
 * Alignment: Good
 * Religion: Saradomin

as he wears a dark enchanted black robe with a hood and black dress. Wears an amulet of glory and a enchanted ring of Charos
 * Name: Thera takana
 * Age: 15
 * Aim: Kill Elix Makar
 * Occupation: A stealth warrior, mage, ranger and summonter AND necromancer. Can cloak himself. Deadly efficient and evil. No one knows what his face really looks like,


 * Alignment: EEVVVIIILL!!! But a lone wolf.
 * Religion: Zamorak

Wightwing

 * Name: Korialstraz Wrynn
 * age: ?? (Eternal life granted by Armadyl, Presumed to be 24)
 * Aim: to slay Zaros and all his worshippers himself for destroying his homeland in the godwars
 * Occupation: Hunter, Ranger, and Assasin, hunts down worshipers of Zaros anywhere they may be, has an alliance with some of the bounty hunters, especially Aurora Sharpshot, who was his childhood friend, he is actually an elf, but was born in falador
 * Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
 * Religeon: Armadyl

4ndrepd

 * Name: Arkot Rembat Menoth
 * Age: 19 (Just reached majority)
 * Aim: Live a life of adventure, and end his days honoured, wealthy and with good respect.
 * Occupation: Reached majority in the last month. Now it lives a discret life in Varrock in an apartment in the North-eastern part of the city, near the Real Estate. He spends, however, most of his time in travel. He traveled to almost any place that he could visit, and he dreams of going to study the land, man and beasts of areas like the elven forest, the mountain, the eastern lands... He now works in a part time as an Elite Varrockian Guard, with his rune armour and discret Dragon Dagger, patrolling the outskirts of the Wilderness and the Barbarian Village.
 * Allignment: Good. He decides not to allign in a side on religious disputes, however.
 * God: Follows Guthix, although not in deep contact with the nature, like the Druids, but helps Armadyl and Zarosian organizations, like the Crux Eqal.

2401 Pagent

 * Name: Sniply "Eagle eye" Smith
 * Age: 12
 * Aim: Adventures quite often and a great shooter, but is often stopped from roaming by his persistent father
 * Occupation: Student, hunter, sharpshooter, roams the wilderness and many other dangerous areas by the side of his friend and his dragon dagger p+++ which he calls lucy.
 * Allignment: Good
 * God: None in particular, although he favours saradomin


 * Name: Kharotac
 * Age: Unknown
 * Aim: To destroy all non-magic users
 * Occupation: Head of the Rolathic Province and head of the Ozuka wizard clan
 * Allignment: 100% Evil
 * God: Zaros


 * Name: Ava
 * Age: 12
 * Aim: To be the greatest alchemist in the whole of gielinor
 * Occupation: Alchemist
 * Allignment: Good
 * God: None

Haru Axeman
Feel free to use Haru at any point, you just have to tell me... and if you kill him, I'll bring him back in a Nabeshin-esque scene. ("But how? You were supposed to be dead!" "I was, but-insert random thing here-" "But... but... "hey, he's alive!")


 * Name: Haru Samazanba Axeman (Actually, his travelling name is "Haru 'Axeman' Daniels-Samazanba")
 * Age: physically 15, chronologically... eh, no clue.
 * Aim: Find Ritsuko and protect Gielinor-or the universe-at all costs.
 * Occupation: Alchemist, Mage, Ranger, Axeman, Dragonslayer, Runecrafter, Fisherman, Brewer, Cook, assassin, upholder of equality and capitalism (he likes to make money, what can I say?) and numerous other things not to be mentioned here.
 * Alignment: Good
 * Species: Unknown semi-lupine humanoid.
 * God: Guthix, Saradomin, Armadyl, =D


 * Name: Danika "Dani" Daniels-Samazanba
 * Age: Same as Haru
 * Aim: Help Haru find Ritsuko, all the same as Haru's, make it so she is independent of Haru's body.
 * Occupation: Alchemist, Mage, Ranger, Axeman, Dragonslayer, Runecrafter, Fisherman, Brewer, Cook, assassin, upholder of equality and capitalism (she likes to make money, what can I say?) and numerous other things not to be mentioned here. Above all, she is Haru's sister, and his superior in enchanting fine protective and convenient items, such as Rings of Recoil.
 * Alignment: Good, Haru
 * Species: Unknown semi-vulpine humanoid
 * God: Same as Haru... also she loves to do this: =D


 * Name: Thomas "Garrison" Grayson
 * Age: 20
 * Aim: Help Haru destroy the Khult and the Horde.
 * Occupation: Lieutenant General to King Tyras, ranger/meleer
 * Alignment: Good
 * God: Guthix


 * Name: Camillia
 * Age: 19
 * Aim: Help Haru find Ritsuko
 * Occupation: the same things as Haru.
 * God: Guthix.


 * Name: Sieg Hametches
 * Age: 25
 * Aim: Kill all non magic-users, assimilate Haru into Khult
 * Occupation: Lieutenant-general of Khult
 * Alignment: Evil
 * God: Zamorak

= Prologue =

Elix Makar awoke to blinding light. Streaming through the windows of his dingy flat, it illuminated the wreck of a great warrior. Stubble adorned his chin. A scar cut sharply through his left eyebrow. Greasy hair lay on the pillow. He shuffled, disturbed, under the itching blanket, and then groggily opened his eyes. Mumbling something obscured by his pillow, he reached out towards his bedside table, trying to find his clock. His hand brushed by something hard, which fell and smashed. Elix looked at it – the remains of a bottle of what must have been a strong alcoholic drink. ‘’That’’ was why he couldn’t remember last night’s events.

He stumbled, unsure of his footing, out of the rough bed. Slowly, he made his way through to what was equivalent to a bathroom – though a true one was hard to find in the Varrock slums. A sheet of well polished obsidian served as a mirror (which had come from less than lawful means) and Elix gazed into it. A tattered, aged faced stared back at him. Banging on the faulty tap, he splashed the meagre stream of water onto his face, to shock himself awake. The icy water worked, and Elix suddenly became aware of a splitting, almost certainly drink-induced headache. Drying his face, he turned back to his main room and put on his cleanest dirty shirt. He didn’t know why the day was special enough to merit wearing it – he also wondered why it ‘’was’’ so dirty – and then banished both thoughts and slipped into it. Tugging on a pair of muddy, torn brown trousers, off-colour socks and sturdy but old boots, he turned, fully dressed, to the unusually bright window.

He was about to look when he noticed something very odd. There was a blinding light on the roof of his room, and a somewhat dimmed sunlight of the floor. Perhaps Elix was hallucinating – the tattered shreds of memory that were last night recalled a lot of liver-rotting substances and enough alcohol to last a normal person a month. But as he pulled back the translucent netting, he realised that it was no hallucination – it was worse.

From his flat that overlooked much of the city, he could see a portal of blinding white glowing in the middle of the main square’s fountain. Streaming out of it were dozens of magi. He fumbled for a telescope he always had handy – a gift from the Phoenix gang, for whom he’d performed several unspeakably illegal tasks. He stared through them at the distant scene, and saw, to his horror, an inferno of spells erupting. He watched in horror as a group of yellow-and-grey clad Varrock guards ran towards the magi – and was promptly incinerated by a wave of fire. Building burned around the square, and corpses lay on the ground. Elix watched, and then turned away.

In the corner stood a pair of swords, each a metre long. The handles were golden and the blades steel-plated dragonhide. On a rack were several pieces of armour, which Elix quickly donned. A belt of magical potions was strapped around his waist, and he reached for the two glinting blades, sliding them into two holsters on his back. He strapped on his leather gloves, turned, and ran out the door.

There was no time to waist. He bolted downstairs and into the lobby. A dozing attendant lay on the desk. Elix shunted through the main doors and out onto the crowded, muddy street. “I knew it...” he told himself as he ran to his first destination, “Never trusted the magic-users. I always knew they would attack!” He pushed past a trader and rapped hurriedly on a door. “Quickly!” he called, “This is urgent!” The door opened, and the apothecary looked at him.

“Mr Makar!” he exclaimed, “Good morning to you!”

“I can’t talk,” Makar answered quickly, “Sorry. I need all your battle potions and something to clear away a hangover.” The apothecary nodded, turned to the racks of potions, and started to take out various glowing vials, handing them to Elix. Elix opened the pouches on his belt and slid the potions in, after taking a deep dose of each.

“And... Hangover Heal.” The apothecary gave Elix a brown vial, which he quickly swallowed.

“Thanks,” Elix said, and pulled out a pouch of coins. “I think that should pay for it.” He turned and ran out again. In a few minutes, he was at his second destination. “Hey!” he called, “Anyone? This is Elix Makar! I need backup!”

An eye poked out at him through a peep-hole. “Why?” a gruff voice asked.

“Trust me – if you don’t give me backup, then you and every other crime syndicate in this town will be out of business permanently.”

The peep-hole slid shut, and just seconds later the door opened. A tall figure – though not as tall as Elix – looked at him. Inside were a dozen armed vagabonds – not the finest by any means, even for the lowly Black Arm Gang – but they were help nonetheless. “Come on!” Elix called, and the figures followed him out. They pushed their way without any regard for others’ pain up the north-south avenue of the town, which was thronging with people rushing away from the city.

“What’s happening?” one of Elix’s newfound party called.

“You’ll find out!” he replied, and kept running. It took just five minutes to reach what had been the city square. “What the hell...” Elix said. It was a scene of chaos – dead bodes strewn everywhere, burning buildings, and three dozen staff-wielding magi causing chaos. “Get them!” Elix ordered.

“Hell, it’s chaos time!” One of his companions yelled, as they ran towards the figures – a tall, goateed young wizard who was throwing an arc of ice into what had been a clothes shop. The wizard turned to face the oncoming group, and it’s leader, the war-mad figure of Elix. The wizard turned and pointed the staff at them. A villainous look appeared in his eye – and then he vanished.

Elix skidded to a halt as the entire group of malevolent magicians disappeared into thin air. A series of blue rings shuffled around each one as they vanished. Moments later, so did the orb of white light in the fountain. There was a mysterious calm in the square, despite the chaos around and within it.

“You still sure about the danger?” a gang member asked.

“Pretty sure,” Elix replied, “That was just... the beginning.”

The chamber was dark, illuminated only by the flickering candles that lined the walls of the chamber. They cast an eerie orange light throughout the chamber, which wasn’t quite rectangular; towards the far end – and far away it was – the walls were visibly angled inwards, towards a gigantic throne. The perfect surface of the walls, carved from perfect runite ore and levelled with an accuracy impossible with conventional tools, were indented every few hundred metres with alcoves the height of many men, each containing a statue of a great wizard, long dead. The roof was vaulted, curving up and around, and painted on it with delicate finesse were scenes no self-respecting mage could not know. They ran chronologically – above the great wooden doors was the creation of the world, onwards through the devastating God Wars, to the discovery of magic, the burning of the Wizard’s Tower, until eventually, as one reached the imposing throne at the end, the scenes were left blank, waiting for the next chapter of magical history to be inscribed.

Under these a procession of magi walked down, clad in robes of white and gold that glinted in the candlelight. Their hoods remained up; they gazed at the ground. On the heart of each robe was a representation of one of the many runes known to magi, the inscriptions glittering. At the head of the column was a short but nonetheless imposing figure. He was an exception to the twenty that followed behind him: his robes were crimson, and striped with bursts of a shining yellow. His hood was down, exposing a head that was almost bald, with only a few wisps of grey hair to cover it. They passed under the last few years of history, and then stopped. The figures following the short figure spread out into an arc behind him. The man walked forward, gazing up at the throne. It was built of gold and rune, and mystical, magical energies pulsated through veins of dragonhide that combined to form, at it’s head, the immense head of a terrifying dragon. Magical flames burned in it’s eyes. The throne itself was stood on a vast stage that stretched to either side of the chamber, where great curving steps led down to the floor. The stage was the height of a man, and a glittering panorama of silver lined it, a procession of the many gods and goddesses of the world. The throne bore several others on each side, each inhabited by a figure of great age, who looked down at the man with a look somewhat sceptic, somewhat insulting. But the figure in the throne had no distinguishable expression at all – the great figure of Marat Xeyos, founder of the Khult, lay hidden behind an impenetrable layer of black, bejewelled armour. He drummed obsidian-coloured fingers on the throne’s arm.

“Speak!” Xeyos’ great voice boomed.

“My lord... as you requested, a small group of magi emerged in Varrock. Their attack was a success – the city centre has already taken plenty of damage.”

“Good!” the great figure declared, “Very good. The Khult has shown just a fraction of it’s total power. Tomorrow the whole world shall feel it’s wrath!”

= Role Play =

Chapter One
In the square, all was now silent, Elix and his party having shuffled away to discuss the events. Not that it mattered. Death cannot be seen by mortal men. The fires burning silently through magical means, unaffected by the water from the fountain that still flowed clealry. The fires cast flickering shadows across the walls surrounding the square. A rat scampered across the road, and a rabid dog whimpered under a discarded feater-matress.

There was a small flash of light, easily mistakable for a gust of wind, and it appeared. Death, a tall, imposing skeleton encased in a black robe, strode (or his version of striding, which involved no contact with the ground) over to the burning corpses of the guards. It did its best to sigh, and passed his robed hand over the fires, which extinguished.

SOMETHING TERRABLY WRONG HAS HAPPENED, it said, pulling a small hourglass from its pocket. It was inscribed to "Bernard Levy", the guard, and still had at least 30 years of sand left to go. THIS WAS NOT MEANT TO HAPPEN.

It shifted away and reached inside its robe to reveal a long, glimmering sword made from bone and some other, magical material. As he lifted it, it seemed to leave a mark in the air, a mirage left by a magical presence. In two clean swipes it passed the blade through the bodies, and the airy souls floated away and dissapated into thin air.

COME HERE, SERVANT.

There was another gust of wind, and a dwarf popped into the square. Now, at this point, I'd just like to mention what the dwarf was wearing. it may not seem very relavent, but I find it important nonetheless. The dwarf, for starters, was considerably taller than most - around 5' 2" - but still wore ordinary dwarf clothing. He had a tight, grey suit that was the same shade as Death's cloak, and had bulging, light-grey shorts. In his arms were a pile of timers, books and vials, and he looked slightly annoyed at Death for the interuption.

"Yes, great master?"

''TIME HAS BEEN CHANGED. I WANT YOU TO TAKE OVER FOR A BIT WHILE I FIND OUT WHY.'' With a brush of it's cloak, it made Orion's load disappear, and passed him the sword.

"Yes, great master," he sighed. He looked away as Death faded, and wandered around the clearing before launching into nothingness.

Andrew 16:22, 19 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Two
"Xeraz is more important than you think! Please, this is all I can offer!" a desperate man wailed. He chucked a sack of gold coins onto the table, and it landed with a metallic clang.

"This is not substantial! You expect me to round up my finest hunters to rescue some crime lord and slip through tight security for 100k!" the shadowy silhouette jeered.

"That's just in advance - how about another 200k after the deed is done?"

"How can I trust you? You might run off without paying the rest!"

"If I do that, you can kill me-"

"I don't need you to tell me to do that, I might just do it anyway."

"So do we have an agreement?"

The figure stroked his goatee, and nodded slowly. He grabbed the sack of coins and pushed it into his desk drawer.

"Leave me. I have a loathsome worm to break free!"

The man hurried out and slammed the door. The shaodwed figure rose up and walked into the next room, full of an assorted mix of unscrupulous thugs and hunters.

"You all heard everything, and now we start now. Xeraz is located at the Varrock guard post, in the third cell from the southeast sector. For transport, I have divided you into three groups. Group A shall hide in a supply wagon, Group B shall arrive by teleportation and Group C will just walk in, separated of course. The rendezvous is the church, right next to the post. Snipes has designated your groups already, so let's get going!"

"What of the attack earlier today?"

"Don't worry about those magi - they are nothing compared to our skill and equipment!" Lustan Moar, the shadowed one, shouted. The party filed out and lined up.

"B-OOM, Toadfinger, Brutus, Bonecrusher - to the cart!" Snipes, the lesser demon, barked. "Nastre, Rockgrinder, Alvion Shareen, TzHaar-Ket-Hax - to the portal! And finally, the rest of you on foot!"

Snipes drew his hood and made sure his face was fully concealed before he got up onto the wagon. He whipped the horses, as his cargo covered themselves in a metal sheet. They set off, as Group B jumped through the portal and Group C followed the wagon. Lustan followed on, reloading his crossbow.

. 20:19, 19 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Three
Thaltis walked slowly through the dirty backstreets of Varrock, just an hour had passed since the lightning strike. He cautiously eyed the shadows, making sure that there weren’t any muggers, or worse; spies. He knew his contact was nearby, he just didn’t know where. He stopped at the appointed meeting place, the end of a small dirty alleyway.

Sileo looked Thaltis up and down, with the black goatee and rich looking robes, before sliding out of the shadows, hooded brown cloak covering his mask and dark clothes. “What did you call me for, I’m very busy these days,” Sileo asked quietly, his voice angry but reserved.

Thaltis took a step forward, “The Khult is preparing for its invasion!” He said loudly, waving his expensive sleeve to accentuate his point.

Sileo shook his head, Thaltis was too loud to go sneaking around. “When are they going to begin?” Sileo asked, suddenly more interested in what Thaltis had to say.

Thaltis rubbed his goatee, thinking to himself for a moment. “Tomorrow, although I do not know the hour.”

“Well then. I guess you will be needing to go back. This close to the invasion, it wouldn’t look good for a prominent member to go missing inexplicably.”

Thaltis nodded, teleporting as he did so. Sileo turned after Thaltis completely disappeared, signaling Timor, Ruo, and Crescent to come out of the shadows. They were all inconspicious figures, dressed head to toe in dark brown hoods, cloaks, and clothing, which served to hide their weapons and equipment. The only weapons that could be seen were Timor's Dragon Claws, which he never took off.

Together they rushed out through the backstreets, coming out at the back Varrock East Bank. They watched as Robin, wearing the same brown cloak as rest of them, quickly ran over to them from across the street.

“Are you finished?” Sileo asked, looking around suspiciously at the guards nearby.

Robin nodded, “Yes. Sold the last store just a few minute ago.” Robin had been in charge of selling the stolen weaponry from the Edgeville Robbery to the various gangs around the area; they would need the cash when the invasion began. The fact that it gave criminals weapons with which to cause trouble also helped.

Sileo nodded, “Good, we need to finish up just one more contract before the day ends, and we will be ready when it starts.” Sileo looked over past the Bank, at the fountain on the other side of the street. Everyone got their equipment?"

The group nodded, no one was stupid enough to forget their gear.

“Good, We’ve got to get moving, we have a just one more target to take care of,” Simon said as he nodded across the street, where a couple of Temple Knights were starting to march their way.

They all disappeared into the streets, a Whispered Death moving through the crowds.

--God of Berusness 21:16, 20 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Four
Though some of the world was covered in chaos and dismay, it wasn't that way everywhere--or at least not yet.

A long distance west, in the neighboring kingdom of Asgarnia, things were fine for the most part. In the capital city of Falador, to be specific, the local guards can been called to the Eastern square for the day's briefing.

It wasn't quite time for it to start. Not all of the men were there yet, but of those who were there, restless deputies couldn't wait for the day of normal policy enforcing to begin.

"I swear," Guard Deputee Ransaid started to rant, sitting on the edge of the square's foutain, "if Lieutenant Gizzard shows up late again--"

"Gizzor!" Guard Familayavich retorted, "The Liutenant's name is Gizzor! Show some respect!" Pyotr pushed his coworker off his ledge and into the fountain.

"Agh!" Ransaid called out, feeling the cold seeping down his armor. "What was that for?!"

Pyotr stepped back, getting out of his reach. "What do you think it was for? Show respect for the Lieutenant next time."

Ransaid crawled out of the fountain, and fell down. "Damn it. I'll be wet for hours." He stood up, and shook out his arms over the fountain.

Other guards started coming for the briefing.

Lieutenant Gizzor came walking from the Northern road. "Hey, Jon." he called out, unaware of the recent nickname Jon had given him moments prior. "Taking bathes in public areas can result in a fine. It falls under indecent exposure. Agarnian law, code 1.213.008. You should know that."

Ransaid tried to look at least slightly happy to see his superior in his current situation. "Besides from it's exact code, yeah, I knew." They shook hands.

A few more guards came from the Western road to the square. Guard Chia Bollin and Guard Deputee Emily Draynor this same.

"Are we late to the party?" Emily waved to the other guards.

Gizzor replied. "No, not yet." He looked at his watch. "It's not scheduled to start for another fifteen minutes."

Over the next fourteen minutes, the other eleven guards in the section under command of Leiutenant Gizzor showed up. They stood around the fountain, chatting and exchanging conversations until Captain Demwalli arrived.

The air was a bit cold and crisp that morning, with lots of clouds overhead. A distance north on Ice Mountain, a blizzard was going, and slowly making its way south to Falador. In Port Sarim, the seas were calm with a clear sky. Some merchant ships were to come in with hundreds of barrels of spices from Al Kharid.

Captain Demwalli gave no acknowledgement to the weather. He never did. He came in front of his men and called out for attention. When he had the attention he needed, he started the briefing. "Benvenuto, i miei fratelli. Welcome, officers." He noticed that Deputee Ransaid was a bit... Wet. He carried on. "It's not often you get briefed by someone who's not your Lieutenant."

It was guessed by most that something important was happening today.

"Earlier today, we received notice that Varrock was under attack by an unknown force."

There was some gaspes.

"Baker, Tango, and Bernard Squads- as well as all of Section Three -are to be on standby for deployment if the Misthalin government asks for any help, as well was a company of White Knights." Demwalli pulled his gloves out of his pocket, his fingers starting to go a bit numb. "Besides that, do your normal duties." He saluted, and left for his office.

The squads rallied together, and went to their usual posts. Bernard Squad, consisting of Bollin, Draynor, Familiayavich, Ransaid and a few others, took their post on the North-East corner of the city's walls.

The blizzard over Ice Mountain died out a few hours later, and the clouds over Falador cleared. The sun beat down on the city, turning the cold morning into a warm day. A bar fight was broken up in the Rising Sun, but besides that, the day was a good one for law enforcement.

"So, what do you guys think happened?" Pyotr broke the silence.

"Happened where? That's rather vague." Chia replied.

"Varrock. Captain said it was attacked."

Emily joined the conversation. "It depends what type of attack it was. For all we know, Varrock could have been overrun by another army, or the battle could still be going on."

"So that's why they haven't asked for help? Because they can't?" Ransaid inquired, now dry from the earlier incident.

She responded. "If what I suggested is really what happened, then yes. I doubt it, though." She smirked. "Do you really think Varrock could be taken over that easily? Those Avvarrockans are no pushovers."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see." Pyotr said without much enthusiasm.

-- 03:55, 21 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Five
Three days have passed. Thetys hasn't exited his house since news about the Khult invasion spread. He was worried about what would be the aftermath of the invasion; the victory of the Khult and the fall of runescape. He was thinking about it too much that he forgot about the book that he was reading, Chronicles of Liechenhaus. Then, a knock on the door caught his attention. He was shocked to have someone coming to his house at this time of day when it was wet, raining heavily. He got off his chair and walked towards the door. As he opened it, he saw a tall robed man, engulfed in the water from the heavy rain.

"Who might you be?" asked Thetys.

"I have come under the order of King Roald of Varrock," he replied.

"King Roald?" Thetys was slightly confused but not surprised.

"King Roald had ordered me to lead a task force to fend off the Khult invasion along with smaller branches from the White Knights of Falador. We are supposed to infiltrate into their plans and cease the invasion of runescape. However, studies about the Khult were made by Varrocks best librarain, Reldo, who had found out about the massiveness and effectiveness of the Khult if they were to initiate an invasion. I'm slightly inexprienced to do such a task after finding out more about the Khult. Fortunately, King Roald had mentioned of a powerful mage who could train me. That lead me to you,"

Thetys scratched his head for a moment before continuing. "How are you inexperienced if he is the one who personally assigned you to lead the task force against the Khult?"

"That was before we knew,"

"Hmmm, it is a tough decision indeed, to fend off the Khult. They are powerful magi not to be messed around with, aiming to destroy all non-magic users here on runescape, which leaves only those who are capable and worthy to stand up, including Warlic Seraph,"

"Warlic Seraph?" the stranger whispered to himself

"He's a powerful dark mage. He used to be my teacher once,"

The stranger looked up at Thetys, studying his face. "He must be old then," he said.

"He is older than the fourth age. He never ages, now he is 60,"

"This Warlic Seraph, do you think he might be assisting the Khult with its invasion?"

"There is a strong possibility as he is an evil mage,"

The stranger stared at Thetys for a moment before he continued. "I shall be going back to Varrock to report to King Roald about this, he is not fond of waiting too long,"

"Wait!"

The stranger stopped as he turned around to walk away. "Yes?"

"Tell King Roald this, no matter how much I train you, and how effective the training goes, there is no guarantee that you will be ablee to defeat the Khult with just a bunch of guards and warriors in white. You will need more alliances to aid you in battle,"

The stranger smiled, "Very well," he said as he began to walk away into the rain. Thetys closed the door and returned to his chair. He picked up the book which was half-opened and continued reading where he had stopped. After all that, he had forgotten part of the story he was reading as he was paying to much attention to the invasion. He started to get bored and closed his book. He began to think to himself,

"I'm really going to train this boy? Even if I am going to, he never told me where or when it would begin, no worries, he should be coming back tomorrow,"

Thetys lied down on his bed thinking to himself about the many things that would happen if he were to train him.

"It has been a long time since I had ever trained anyone. The last one I remembered was a complete failure. I gave up training people then and began creating new magic potions to boost different types of spells to make magic combat more effective,"

It was a long time since Thetys ever trained anyone. Twenty-five years to be exact. Now he's training a young man who is eager to fight against the Khult and try to defend runescape from the Khult's reign. A brave one he is. To Thetys though, he is rather just a mere warrior among the other hopeless warriors ready to become just a slight better than he was last time. Thetys thought he was wasting time, but to the fact that the Khult are a really serious thing, Thetys has seen the better side in that stranger.

10:33, 23 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Six
Varrock security had obviously tightened in the following hours of the attack, but this did not deter Lustan Moar. He believed that the military were more focused on any wizard than non-magical prisoners. The gates were filled with guards demanding identification, and grabbing any magician they could find for questioning.

Snipes' wagon of vagabonds rolled up to the gates, expectantly stopped by the guards.

"Sir, we reserve the right to search your cart and ask for your ID. We are very sorry, but due to the attack earlier, it is compulsory-"

"You do not need to see my ID" Snipes said serenely, waving his hand.

"I do not need to see your ID" the guard replied hesistantly.

"There's nothing to see here, move along" Snipes said in response.

"There's nothing to see here, move along!" the guard shouted, as the gates opened and the cart was allowed through.

"Something I picked up at a ritual" Snipes mumbled, knowing his cargo could hear him.

However, it would not be as easy for Lustan and Group C to enter. Being a bounty hunter had its price, like getting on the Most Wanted lists. However, they had managed to forge their own identity tablets, although it remained to be seen if the ploy would work.

"You're clear sir!"

However, it did work. Lustan looked around, and saw many Saradominist magi being rounded up and carted off the outpost. Damn Lustan thought. With interrogations on, the operation might fail.

A beautiful, young blonde woman with a small facemask walked up to Lustan and their arms interlocked.

"Aurora Sharpshot, you look radiant today."

"There are too many guards-" she whispered hoarsely.

"And we won't fail, even if we have to blow our cover."

The pair stepped into the church to see a menagerie of strange beings.

"You're late" grumbled a dark-skinned man.

"And it's good to see you've had a safe journey too, Zane Furel" Lustan replied sarcastically. He beckoned to Hammersmith, a dwarf, to scout ahead.

Hammersmith returned five minutes later. "I reckon the place is too well-protected. We'd be very lucky to get in! Of all days you pick to do this, it's on the day the city is on high alert after an attack!"

"And so we must abandon a stealthy approach to a more... direct one-"

"Wait! Stealth is the best weapon we have! Allow me to take them out swiftly and silently!" Nastre hissed. Nastre's snake-like face flexed, and his slit-like nostrils sniffed the air.

"I suppose that could work... do it now!" Lustan ordered, as Nastre smiled and his bat-like wings expanded. He grabbed a long stick from his sheath and a blade retracted from it. He glided out of the door and struck at the five guards with his scythe and they were dead in one stroke. Nastre had managed to work out the guard's weak spot and strike at it with ease.

The hunters charged out of the church and kicked down the doors, and disappeared inside.

Note: This chapter takes place on the second day after the first attack.

. 20:07, 26 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Seven
Thaltis walked down a pure runite corridor, his nervous footsteps padded by his soft shoes. He looked left and right continuously, rubbing his goatee anxiously. None must know what he had just been up to. His heart stopped as a call came from behind him.

“Ah, Master Thaltis! What are you doing out and about this close to the appointed time? I thought you would be very busy organizing and preparing?” A young, but undeniably talented man called from behind him. Thaltis turned around, fingering a few runes in his pocket, to address him, and found that the young man dressed in all white robes was not alone. Behind him stood three others, young members like him that were fresh out of the trials but had shown promise in the eyes of their tutors.

Thaltis took a moment to clear his throat, he was talking lower ranked members after all. “Ah, Micheal. Since when do I have to report my business to you? I was unaware that you were my superior.”

Micheal and the three behind him nodded, and then Micheal held up a paper with a seal engraved into it. Thaltis’s superior’s seal. “I am to ask about your business, the commanders have ordered me to investigate any who are traveling in and out this close to the invasion.”

Thaltis cleared his throat again, gripping his runes under his cloak harder. He thought hard, trying to come up with a lie. He feigned insult, “Me? I was over at the Grand Exchange, making sure that my shipment of Battlestaves was in.”

“Battlestaves?” Micheal asked, his face filled with new confusion.

“Yes. My Battlestaves. I had bought them through the Grand Exchange because the demand for them was very high in our supply,” Thaltis knew he had him.

Micheal nodded, it made sense in a way. “Very well… You may go. Don’t let the commanders catch you leaving again. We are to stay put to make sure of no spies.”

Thaltis nodded his ascent, and Micheal and the three mages turned and walked down the corridor. Thaltis wiped his head with his sleeve and continued his walk back to his room. That was a close one.

The four shadowy figures practically flew through the sewers, sneaking almost invisibly through the skeleton infested areas and hiding away from light provided by the sewer grates.

Sileo, Timor, Ruo, Crescent, and Robin stopped in a small stone room, one of the all to common dead ends in the sewer. They stopped a moment, going through their gear.

Sileo glared around the darkness. “Everyone got their pouches? Ranged weapons? Teletabs?” Sileo asked in rapid sucession. He was answered by a chorus of “Yes.”

Sileo nodded at Crescent, who then turned to the stone wall opposite the small archway that led to the dead-end room. Crescent drew out his Dragon Mace, and struck the wall hard, smashing right through it. Bricks and stones flew out through the air, and Sileo and Robin jumped through, Sileo throwing his Dragon Throwing Knives and Robin shooting his crossbow with great speed and skill.

The four unfortunate guardsmen who had the posts at the end of the most boring, empty hall fell dead before they knew the wall had been shattered.

The Whispered Death moved quietly through the hallways, heading through the heavily guarded stone passages slowly but surely.

God of Berusness 01:29, 28 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Eight
"Come back 'ere you little swine!" snapped the baker.

"Never! By the name of paint I shall succeed!" yelled Neville.

Neville Jones was an interesting character, he came across as somewhat deluded and pathetic on the surface, but looking deeper, something else is stirring. In his blood flows the urge for justice! The urge to help all those people who can't help themselves living like broken slum folk! And anyone else who needed it...

The street was long and winding as Neville cut in and out of stalls and dodged people passing by with all kinds of things in their hands. He snatched a tattered basket full of potatoes from a woman's hands.

"This shall make the perfect headwear to help fight the enemy!" he exclaimed as he put the hat on, causing potatoes to roll out across the road.

"That was my dinner you little-" began the woman.

Meanwhile, in the streets of West Ardougne, Neville began to stumble about, drunk on grapes of all things.

"So comrades! There's definitely something going on in that Clocktower! The ghosts have infiltrated his Lordnesseses' domainion!" Neville snapped at a zombie wearing the basket as a hat.

The zombie groaned in response, and then a Mourner came over.

"You do know you're talking to a zombie, sir," the Mourner began, "and where's your gas mask?"

"Wine? Who said I took your wine! And for the record it tasted of piddle!" Neville snapped.

"That is a zombie you are talking to!"

"And so would you be if you'd drunk as much as you and me and him! He's merely a drunkard hero trying to fight back, not unlike myself! If he's a zombie why's his skin all broken and blue. Hold on, you lying villain! You told me you were an elven traveller from far, far away in a magical town! I think I'll taketh my hat back!"

Neville snatched the basket and pushed the Mourner into the zombie who dragged him away...

"And now for my grand escape! The Clocktower is the only one I can trust from now on!" Neville exclaimed as he sprinted in the direction of the city gate.


 * Mr. Garrison 16:41, 29 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Nine
In the darkness of the massive Khult chamber, thousands upon thousands of magi were gathered. The chamber itself had been redesigned through powerful magic to accommodate the immense number of souls standing ready.

“Magi!” boomed the voice of Marat Xeyos, “Three days ago we launched a small raid in Varrock. A mere thirty of our number caused havoc and chaos in the sinful city! The world has been shaken, and people are confused, scared, wary – by a mere thousandth of our number for but half an hour! In a day our entire force could revamp the world! In a week it would be changed beyond recognition! In a month, maybe – just maybe - our utopia will have been realised.”

A great cheer rose from the countless thousands gathered in the chamber.

“You all know what to do! There are portals to every important place in the world! You have all had your briefing; enter these portals and enter the world! Let none of the unbelievers survive! And let all those worthy of our mercy join us! Destroy the buildings of the flawed civilizations of yesterday to clear a way for the foundation of tomorrow’s world! Go now, my magi! Change the world!”

Elix Makar sat hunched over the bar, drinking deep. Scattered around him were a fair share of empty glasses, froth still sticking to their sides. He had been ridiculed by the Black Arm Gang for his false alarm, and had had to deal with several of their agents trying to attack him or steal from his flat. As such, he was now wearing his armour, so it wasn’t stolen –or worse, savaged. The landlord walked up to him.

“Another beer, Elix?” he asked.

“Wozzat? Er... I’vad enough.” Elix’s voice was slurred and difficult to translate – except by the landlord, who was fluent in the language of the drunk. “Akchooly...” Elix continued, “Gimme ‘nother.”

The landlord shrugged, nodded, and then poured another drink for Elix. He was about to drink it when suddenly a young man barged through the door.

“Everyone come quickly!” he yelled out, “It’s happening again!” There was no need to say what ‘it’ was – the news had travelled with immense speed, and even those who weren’t there at the time had heard at least half a dozen different stories of the attack three days previously. The bar emptied – some ran outside and away, whilst the majority clustered to the windows or outside. Elix stumbled through the door of the Blue Moon Inn to look at what was going on. A vast crowd was lining the avenue, and once again there was a great, almost blinding light coming from the end of it. And then, just as before, screams began.

A human wave erupted, rushing away from the massive portal. In the distance flames began to flicker, and smoke rose. So to emerged a squadron of dragons, leaping across the sky, and then wheeling down to attack. Flame erupted from their mouths, incinerating buildings. Two dragons, a large black one and a smaller red one turned on the seething mass of people. A few arrows were fired at the beasts – unsuccessfully. The beasts poured out two pillars of flame into the mob. Screams came and went.

Elix barged his way through the crowd, pushing his way out. The city walls were in sight. A minute later he was through them. The guards had disintegrated, fleeing into the countryside. The mob was moving down the path, but also a few scattering into the countryside. Elix looked and saw, in the distance, another portal of blinding light at the Dark Wizard’s circle. Wizards swarmed from it, approaching the chaotic mob. One of the dragons was still harassing the crowd. Knowing he would be safer alone, Elix turned, barged out of the crowd, and ran into the countryside.

The invasion had started. Some thirty thousand wizards were emerging in stone circles, altars, churches, and city centres – nowhere was safe. In hours Varrock was destroyed, and Ardougne subjected to the released Plague of its Western side. Falador alone stood, but even then it was endangered. Most had no idea of who was attacking or why – merely that countless wizards and magical beasts were laying waste to their world. As refugees scattered, the demons and dragons of the Khult ravaged the countryside. It was every man for himself.

The war had begun.

--Fegaxeyl 17:59, 29 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Ten
(This chapter takes place during the previous chapter.)

No matter how advanced the civilizations and nations may have been for their time, Gielinor's system of communications and delivering messages was still slow, sometimes taking weeks for a letter to get from one loci to another. While Varrock was being destroyed, the citizens and troops in Falador obliviously went on with their lives.

While it had not been discovered yet, light's travelling speed of 186,210 miles per second could tell the story of Varrock in real-time.

A White Knight, who was watching over the city of Falador from atop the steeple of the White Knights' Castle, got distracted while he was doing his shift. As he did on a daily basis without his superiors knowing, he started looking at all sorts of things through his telescope. Lake Crystalmere, Port Sarim, and the great stacks of smoke rising from Misthalin. From such a distance, it would normally either be blocked by the clouds or have such a low opacity it wouldn't be noticed, but because the knight had a high perch and a magnifying lens to look through, he saw the fires and smoke.

He climbed down from the steeple and informed the nearest authority he could find. The other knight quickly forwarded the message to Sir Amik Varze, the acting king of Asgarnia.

"Sir, it seems that Varrock is under attack again. This one looks bad."

Amik was giving the soldier his undivided attention, slouching forward in his throne. "Are you sure about this?"

The knight swallowed. "Yes, sir."

Amik held his fist to his chin and thought for a few moments. "If we don't do anything, Misthalin could be in trouble..."

The soldier stood awaiting for a verdict.

"We haven't received any messengers asking for help. That could either mean that they don't need our help, our they're too deep into trouble that they either can't bother to send a messenger or they've been killed en route..." Sir Varze started to keep this thinking inside his head.

Many seconds later, the knight spoke up. "Your orders, sir?"

He didn't respond for a bit, before he stood up and off his throne to announce his decision. "Rally the troops," he started with a strong voice, "and send them to our borders. They might find it as an act of war if we openly send troops onto their land without consent. If they do need the help, it will be easier for them to ask for it."

"Yes sir!" the soldier saluted, and left to spread the order.

Over in western Falador, Lieutenant Gizzor was running from post to post, telling his section the orders. He arrived at Bernard Squad's post, his final stop, only about ten minutes after Sir Amik Varze gave the general order. "Guards!" he called, upon reaching the post.

The group stood at attention. "Yes, Lieutenant?" Pyotr responded.

Gizzor was a little hyper, and was talking fast. "Varrock's under attack, but we have yet to receive consent to enter their land." He pointed at the lot for emphasis. "Bernard Squad needs to rally at the square immediately for deployment at our borders."

The group got the message, got their armor, weapons and such, and headed to the square. Jon stayed back with Gizzor for a few moments. "Who's going to watch over our area, then?" he asked.

"Some of the squads from Section One are going to fill in after you guys."

"Ah, that works then." Jon acknowledged, as he put on his helmet and left for the square.

The rest of Bernard Squad- which was noticeably ahead of Ransaid -met up with Baker on their way to the rally point. For the most part, their venture across town was quiet.

At the square, a section and a half of guards and two companies of White Knights were organizing themselves, as the last of the men showed up. Once they were there, a White Knight Major informed the group of the situation in more detail than what they were originally informed about. And with all preparations set, they left for the borders.

As they became closer and closer to the city under siege, the smoke became more appearant. Once they reached their destination, they got comfortable and waited for allowed entry into the neighboring kingdom.

-- 23:56, 29 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Eleven
Sileo and his group came out of the underground passages, to the ground floor of the shattered Varrock Castle.

The only word that could describe the once great palace was shattered. The castle was gone from the second floor up, some pieces of wall were still strangely standing, with stones falling from them every few seconds. The ground floor was ruined, great carpets torn by the rubble, and many of the irreplaceable portraits lining the walls were badly burned. The only room partially standing was King Roald’s dining hall. From a broken corner of the room, the flag of Varrock waved defiantly in the breeze. From within, the King was attempting to gather up his survivors and try to make sense of what had just happened.

The Whispered Death walked forward, crossing between the towering piles of rubble, toward the standing room. Only two guards stood guarding the door.

“You there! What are you-” the guards called out when they noticed them. They were cut short by a flurry of crossbow bolts and throwing knives. Sileo and his group continued to the door.

Crescent, muscles bulging, rushed forward and slammed into the door, launching it through the room to go smashing into the large dining table, which fell broken to the ground with the impact. Stunned guardsmen and Captains of Varrock attempted to draw out their arms to confront the enemy.

Taking advantage of the surprise, the Whispered Death struck first. Ruo, the group mage, struck first, freezing the soldiers nearest the door into ice. Cold as they had never felt before froze their blood, and their arms refused to work. Timor and Crescent, the group warriors, struck next, rushing forward with a flurry of Dragon Claws and Dragon Mace. Few could stand in their way. Robin and Sileo, providing support from the back, launched their ranged weapons into enemies who were able to reorganize. The confusion was their ally.

The guardsmen were all dead in moments, taken by surprise. Five stood frozen, no longer able to see the world through the frost that covered their eyes. Seven more lay dead on the ground in bloody pools, Timor was completely covered. Four more owed their deaths to Sileo and Robin.

King Roald stepped back, drawing out a steel longsword in hands not used to wielding it. “Wha.. What is the meaning of this!”

Sileo looked around the room, and then unceremoniously, he threw a Dragon Throwing Knife into the King’s throat. “And so ends Varrock.”

The Whispered Death disappeared as Ruo teleported them all away.

Aaron Berus  01:02, 30 April 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Twelve
As Jack trudged wearily over the last hill to the entrance to the city of Varrock, he wondered why there was so much smoke coming up from the where the yet as unseen city was. As Jack finally climbed up over the steep hill, he was shocked to see a burned and blackened ruin of his home. Jack had seen groups of ragged, desperate travelers moving away from the city, but Jack had never stopped to talk to them and had pretty much ignored them for the last few days.

Jack considered what to do next, he could try to track down a group of refuges, hope that they didn't run away, and ask them what happened. Or Jack could simply investigate the ruins to see what the cause of the destruction was. Jack hoped it wasn't a dragon, he lacked the equipment to even survive long enough to escape a dragon let alone fight one. Jack started walking towards the smoking ruins, determined to find out who or what destroyed Varrock... Jack Spiral1

Chapter Thirteen
This chapter picks up where chapter 6 left off

Alvion Shareen reared the reins of his terrorbird and it sprinted down the prison aisle. The gnome had a long staff with two katanas fitted on the ends, and was killing many guards on the way. The captain of the guard, however, was out of the gnome's sight and prepared to strike with a longsword. Aurora whipped out her modified crossbow and the bolt hit the captain straight in his head. He died instantly, and the hallway was clear.

Aurora's crossbow had a very long handle, yet was adept at long range shots. Most Guild members have mainly crossbows as weapons, with most members having modified theirs.

"So, which one is Xeraz?" Zane echoed. All the prisoners scramed "Me!" delusionally, except one. Lustan approached the prisoner, withdrawing his twin crossbows.

"Something tells me your the one we're here to rescue."

"Then that 'something' is correct" Xeraz replied, as his face started to twist and turn, and his whole body started to shapeshift. Lustan didn't look too surprised, although he didn't expect their client to be more than a crime lord. His face suddenly became a skull with crimson eyes.

"Hmmm, a powerful creature like you could have broken yourself out. Why call for us?" Lustan enquired.

"Consider it a test, for a storm is coming-"

"I've heard too many of these storm warnings in my life mate-"

"But this is the worst storm since the God Wars, so listen closely. I can feel in it the air - evil magic is brewing, and one man in particluar is rising to power. The winds are changing, and my spies haven't been able to retrieve more information better than I have. I need a team, 'tis why I tested you."

"Will we get paid?" Toadfinger the goblin chipped in.

"For what? Fighting a storm? That's what the magi do! We professionals do not go around following orders of a lunatic who will lead us on a wild goose chase!" Zane snapped.

Xeraz tore down the door of the cell, and confronted Zane.

"Of course, no one is forcing you to come. But if you want to survive another week, then take my offer."

"What offer?" Aurora piped up.

"I need a team of physically adept fighters who are skilled in many arts of combat to stop the threat. There will be a lot of gold coins involved at the end of the mission"

"How much?" Lustan replied.

"3 billion."

"Done!" Lustan grinned, and shook Xeraz's clawed hand.

"Consider me out! This is madness!" Zane growled, as he stormed out.

"I will go and chase your spokesman for his share of the deal. I trust they will be in safe hands?"

"Nothing in this world is safe anymore, Lustan"

Lustan started to walk away, and slowly nodded at Aurora. He then left to chase Zane.

"So, let the war begin..." Xeraz cackled.

. 15:41, 6 May 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Fourteen
"La la la la la la la la la" Sniply Smith whistled as he walked down the streets of varrock. Suddenly,he saw a towering figure standing over him."Gimme that dragon crossbow kiddo" said Tommy, the class bully."Why? It costs 3 million!" Sniply replied. "He will not give it to you!" Ava, Sniply's best friend said. Ava, was as excellent alchemist. "Instead, have this." Ava handed over a potion to tommy. The potion was sickly green. Without a doubt, tommy drank the potion. Instantly, tommy started choking and he fell. Sniply raised his dragon crossbow,but put it back down."Shoot!" Ava yelled. Sniply turned his face away from tommy and shot.

The dragon bolt, which was covered in poison made by Ava, pierce through tommy's skin, staining the floor with blood."Aaaargh!" Tommy yelled as blood splashed onto Sniply's trousers.

Smiply's father noticed what had happened and snatched Sniply back to his house and grabbed him by the neck."How could you!" he boomed "Papa!" Sniply said. "I didnt mean to!" "No!" his father replied.Suddenly, a dagger pierced Sniply's father. "Come on!" Ava yelled. "Run!" Sniply ran off with Ava and her brother.

Chapter Fifteen
Haru's first great breakthrough over the 18 (or 19) year span of his search for Ritsuko came in a bar, while playing guitar. A guy in the audience-Thomas "Garrison" Grayson, was telling tales about his destruction of the "Sigmundist" HAM members.

He and his sister Camillia (Who had come in, running and screaming about Meleers a while ago, but had quieted down after getting a bit of cold alcohol down her throat) were enjoying the fast guitar, along with everyone. Yes, it was going to be the furthest thing from sober here, a rowdy, partying atmosphere at Yanille's Black Dog pub-

At least, that's what they wanted it to be. The Horde had other ideas.

BANG

The ceiling of the pub broke upward. People screamed.

Two figures in red-black armor jumped down. They pointed their black, twisted gauntlets at the guitarist.

"ASSIMILATE HARU AXEMAN," one rumbled.

For a moment, the seemingly human guitarist stared at them in shock. His black spectacles slipped down his nose. His hair, (white with black tips) his fox ears and tail seeming to quiver with shock.

Then his orange eyes blinked, and peered at the newcomers. "Well, this is new. Usually they say 'Exterminate' or 'annihilate' or for a stretch, even 'incinerate'".

Haru Axeman 01:28, 12 May 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Sixteen
(This is a loophole I will almost surely get yelled at for... just so you know, they had blunderbusses in the 17th century. However, they were cumbersome and somewhat hard to load)

"All right. What do you want? I assume you're just another of those big, dumb warrior guys who want to use me as superweapon. I always say no," said Haru calmly.

"RESISTING... ASSIMILATE BY FORCE." one of the figures leaped at Haru, clawed fingers outstretched.

Haru raked it across the face with his own clawed fingers. It staggered back, making no sound.

Garrison's first thought was so that's how he did it without a pick. Then, without realizing it, he threw a knife at the other figure. The knife bounced off.

"So, the legendary Haru. You haven't changed a bit since my Daddy tried to kill you," a man in pink robes said, walking out behind Haru.

"Sieg Hametches. (Bleep-a-Bleep), the answer is no. I will not join HA-"

"That's not the issue here. I've come under the... protection... of higher beings. One such being the Khult. You see, the Khult is an organization of Magi dedicated to-"

"Annihilating everything but magic from the face of this Earth? Yes, I know it. I know it of Eld. You cannot possibly persuade me to come."

"What if I told you we had Ritsuko?"

Haru's eyes blazed, breaking his calm mood. "HOW DID YOU GET HER?! Where is she? Tell me, before I-"

"Before you what? If you kill me now, you won't know where she is. Let's talk business here. I do you two favors, and you do me one. Sound good?"

Haru nodded.

"Here's my proposal-as of now, Ritsuko has a Locking Seal on her, preventing her from using her magic. She can willingly deactivate it-but we cannot make her do so. However, you have the key to that seal?"

"That's correct."

"You unlock it, and we give you Ritsuko, and you live with her... however, we'll also do you a favor by purifying you and putting you in the Khult."

Haru narrowed his eyes. "Sounds like you tryin' to make me work more than get paid, mon ami. Here's my rejection slip." With no warning at all, he grabbed a large copper tube with a handle on the bottom. A burst of blue flame shot out of the end, preceded by a deafening BOOM. The thing-whatever it was-was obviously quite powerful, as it had managed to smash Sieg backwards out the pub window, utterly destroying his left arm.

Camillia walked over to Haru. "What... was that?"

"Oh, nothing much... just a blunderbuss, or shooting-iron, as it's called in these parts. Pity I couldn't have a more advanced one. Curse you, Paradox laws!"

"Wha-"

"Oh, it's nothin', Camillia. Just nothing."

"Then what do you think of this?!" Sieg yelled. "I NEED BACKUP STAT!"

At that exact moment, several mages, each with three of the armored things chained to their wrists, teleported in. All of them pointed staffs at Haru.

"Haru? I really hope you haven't gotten rusty..."

"Me? No. Not at all," he replied, manifesting light, mobile dragon armor, a long blue duster, shield and battleaxe on. "Remember, if we get outmatched, we go to Seed. Remember that?"

"Yeah, I remember..."

They rushed toward the mages. Haru swung his battleaxe, and the buildings went red. No mage-or their strange servant-could touch him or Camillia, as his battleaxe-quite cumbersome and heavy looking-effortlessly cut through mages left and right.

"What is going on?" Garrison wondered.

Haru Axeman 00:51, 17 May 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Seventeen
King Tyras and his bodyguard marched around in the castle courtyard, which was completely filled with frightened people. The doors stood shut. Outside, they could hear the moaning of those infected by the plague.

“People of Ardougne! Stay calm! You are safe inside the castle!” King Tyras called out over the crowd. The crowd’s responses were more panicked shouts.

King Tyras turned and started walking up the steps to get back to his throne room. He made it up two when a dragon throwing knife sank in through his armor. He fell to the ground, bleeding heavily. He died in seconds.

His bodyguard, eight in number, and the soldiers who were lucky enough to have been garrisoned in the castle, all turned toward where the knife came from. They traced its flight over to the window of the room where gate was operated. They rushed towards it, realizing their peril. If the gate opened, the plague would be released inside, and they would be doomed.

The gate opened. The gate operating room flashed with blue light. The castle was infected.

The small warehouse in Falador lit with bright blue light as Sileo and Ruo appeared. The other three members of the Whispered Death were already there.

Robin stepped up to Sileo, “Did you get Ardougne?”

Sileo nodded. “Yes. But we have one more target. We need to get rid of Sir Amik Varze, and do anything else we can to cause chaos within the ranks of the White Knights.”

Robin nodded once again. “But how do we get in?”

Sileo started walking out of the warehouse, “The old Thieves’ Passage.” Aaron Berus

Chapter Eighteen
“Halt!” Elix found himself staring at the sharp end of a spear. “Who are you?”

“Elix...” he panted, “Elix Makar.” He looked up, and saw a group of fully-armoured soldiers in shining white armour. The orange glow of burning cities in the distance glinted on their armour. “Are you..?”

“Asgarnians, yes. Welcome to our territory. Tell us, were you being followed?”

“Not as far as I’m aware.” The soldiers looked at each other, faces hidden behind the grilles of their helmets. They backed off, allowing Elix through. “What’s the news?” he asked to them.

The soldier who had already spoken raised his visor. “Asgarnia has moved its army to the borders to hold off any attacks by the wizards, but we’re being torn apart from within. We would move back in to secure the major towns, but from what we understand hear Sir Amik Varze has imposed martial law, so we can’t go anywhere. There are magi tearing up Sarim and Rimmington, and all sorts of unholy beasts have been released.” He peered quizzically at Elix’s armour – Elix was still lying on the ground, and rose as the soldier surveyed him. “Can you fight?” he asked.

“I think I’m sober enough to,” Elix answered. “Do you know Sethet?”

“Who?”

“No, the fighting style – Sethet. I invented it before the government... threw me out.”

“The government – we need permission for us to enter your territory to help you lot!”

“No point,” Elix replied, now standing at full height, “From what I’ve seen Misthalin is in anarchy. The army was nowhere to be seen, and any houses and villages I found were either deserted or burnt to ashes.”

“Should we ask Command, Sergeant?” another soldier asked.

“Very well – and take this man with you.” The Sergeant nodded to Elix. The soldier walked off, and Elix began to follow – but then he heard a rustling.

Elix’s eyes darted to a nearby bush, which he could just make out in the darkness of the night. A hint of red? “Look out!” Elix cried – too late. A bolt of fire erupted from the bush, colliding with the unwary soldier. He screamed as smoke erupted from cracks in the armour. The white armour turned brown with the heat. As the body collapsed to the floor Elix drew his two Sethet blades and leapt at the bush, slashing. Leaves flew, revealing a red-robed mage. Elix didn’t even hesitate, and in two moves completely disconnected the limbs and head from the mage’s torso.

The soldiers were watching him. Elix stared back at them with a grin – a grin that slowly turned to a grimace. His eyes shifted upwards to the great carpet of black; the smoke cloud generated by a thousand burning buildings. With horror Elix watched a great black silhouette wheel across the sky and begin to plummet towards the soldiers.

“What is it?” the Sergeant asked.

“R... r... run...!” Elix roared. But he couldn’t, nor could the others. His legs were locked in place as the dragon fell from the sky and sprayed the soldiers with flame, incinerating them. Their screams shook Elix’s soul. But they weren’t the only screams – far down the line, Elix could hear further cries of fear. Dragons wheeled in the sky. The stomps of demons could be heard. His legs finally began to move as he saw first one, then two, then a dozen magi enter the clearing where the soldiers – who still flamed – were standing.

Marat Xeyos stood in the ruins of Varrock, shielded from the noxious fumes by a hemisphere of gold. His top magi stood around him.

“So... the campaign is a success. A day of battle, and already we have reduced two kingdoms to anarchy and another to fascism. Our magi have secured much of the north, and the Wilderness is all ours. And now we are crushing the final lines of resistance around Asgarnia and Lumbridge, to capture and convert all the survivors.” He took a deep breath, and released it with an air of pomposity. “The foundations have been cleared. Begin building Utopia.”

--Fegaxeyl 15:19, 22 May 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Nineteen
The mage fell to the floor, shattered by the things he swore to destroy; melee weapons. Bonecrusher and Rockgrinder were exceptional trolls, slightly smarter than their kin. For the last two days the hunters, under Xeraz, destroyed a Khult stronghold and assassinated many high ranking magi.

Now they've developed a new taste for magical blood.

"Dey will all splode!" Rockgrinder chuckled, granite sonic maul at the ready.

B-OOM, another massive hunter, hurled an anchor and it scraped the side of the fort. B-OOM was created along with Barrelchest, yet he escaped as his brother was mutilated by a wandering adventurer. He started to scale the wall, and the rest followed. A magi guard saw this and rushed to the scene, ready to perform a powerful fire blast. Aurora quickly fired at the guard and he fell from the battlements.

Within seconds, the whole team were in furious battle with the mages. Speed combined with strength, stamina and good weaponry utterly obliterated the guarding forces.

"Where is Xeraz?" Brutus mumbled.

"I hear he has some special plan to destroy the Khult, and is leaving to us to take out this base. And it's gonna be so much fun!" Snipes smiled.

The North was a dark, dingy yet cold place. No human had ventured this far, so it made the perfect site for a certain Mahjarrat ritual.

"I know of your attempt to become a God not too long ago...yet your plan is incomplete. The Khult will render your plan useless, and leave nothing left for you to soil..." Xeraz hissed to Lucien.

"I knew this since they began their attack - and I considered an alliance with them, but you are correct. I will join you, brother, for all your loyalty and bloodshed. You should convince the others..."

"Do not worry, I'm on my way to see Hazeel, Zemouregal and the rest...perhaps even Azzanadra..."

"No! You cannot release him, for whatever cause you have!"

"We can always re-imprison him, I'm sure of that..."

"Do not bother, Xeraz, or consider our alliance terminated!" Lucien barked, banging his fist on his throne.

. 07:31, 30 May 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Twenty
Neville stood beneath the looming shadow of the Clock Tower holding a plank of wood with an iron nail protruding from it. He knocked on the door. No answer.

"I'll bet something dreadful has happened here - I shall rid the Clock Tower of this evil!" Neville exclaimed.

On that note he booted the door but it stayed firmly shut. He rubbed his bruised foot and then opened the door by its handle. Inside it was dank and quiet, Neville entered tiptoeing and proceeded up the staircase to the next floor, managing to break all the bannisters with his plank which he clumsily swung from side to side.

"There must be a ghost in here!" he shrieked, observing his own damage.

He had also picked up on the flowing stream of ectoplasm down the stairs which he had trod in.

"Gh-gh-gh-ghost juice!" he exclaimed in fear. "It's invadeded my feet-houses," he added, referring to his shoes.

He then glimpsed a grey glowing ghost drifting silently in the corner of the room.

"Die!" Neville ordered as he charged at it.

The ghost did not move though, as Neville ran through it.

"I shall please the Great God of the Clock Tower by cleaning his temple of tramps and idiots!" he snapped, attacking the ghost again.

Suddenly a mage bursted into the room and vapourised the ghost with crumble undead, causing it to flash away to the Spirit Realm.

"I did it!" Neville cheered.

"You damned boy, I have an order from the Ardougne Court which reads that Neville Jones, aged 17 of East Ardougne is to be sent to Lumbridge for a fixed period of three months; signed King Lathas," read the mage, grinning at the prospect of no-more Neville.

"The enemy has struck me again, but I'll be back, waiting for your next move; though what will it be? Perhaps a bucket of sour pineapple slices? Or maybe a two-footed man with a mithril sword? We'll just have to see..."

Neville collapsed on the floor, thoroughly drunk from bottle after bottle of red wine.


 * Mr. Garrison 10:33, 30 May 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Twenty-One
The Whispered Death sneaked through the small tunnel that ran under the White Knight’s Castle. Originally, it was planned for an escape route by the builders, but it was forgotten when the builders all died mysteriously. They came to a ladder, and quietly climbed up it. They were surrounded on all four sides by white stone, they were definitely inside the Falador’s castle now.

A few more rungs in the ladder, and they were in a small, stone room, they had to stay in a crouch. On one side of the room, there was a picture frame with a diagram showing the way out of here, how the tunnel moved down and out, to the warehouses in Falador, and then even further, leaving out near the River Lum.

Here, Sileo signaled them to prepare as he put his ear to the stone to hopefully listen in on the room inside.

Sir Amik Varze and a few others, probably important members of Falador’s military, were having a heated discussion about the defense of Falador. There were dragons in the skies after all!

Sileo looked back to the group, Ruo was ready with his spells, Timor had that deadly look in his eyes, Robin’s crossbow was prepared, and Crescent stood ready to charge forward.

Sileo nodded, and quickly pushed the block out. Ruo jumped through first, freezing Sir Amik Varze and the men closest to him; it wasn’t lethal the first spell, but it would hold them still. Robin jumped out and fired off a few bolts, striking the White Knights at one door. Timor rushed at the Knights at the other door, keeping them at bay. Sileo moved in and knifed a few of the more important military officials, while Crescent rushed forward, grabbing up Sir Amik Varze in his tough grip. Sileo nodded to Ruo, who proceeded to teleport the lot of them out.

The lightning strike surprised the White Knights, who would have regularly been able, with enough men in the room, to dispatch any and all attacks.

Sileo and his men appeared in the underground of Varrock, there they tied up Sir Amik Varze on a table. Sileo stood over him, and asked one question. “Without you, will Falador fall into chaos? Or will we have take out another?”

Sir Amik Varze tried to reply, but he was gagged with a rope. Sileo and the Whispered Death departed, leaving a guard of six rogues to watch over him, and in the event of a rescue, kill him.

Thaltis the mage stood nearby Marat Xeyos, even now he planned somehow to kill Marat, but for now, he had to just assist the invasion in any way he could…

Thaltis excused himself, and headed off to one of the few buildings remaining in the area. Mages had already searched it and many of the other buildings in the area, killing all surviving Varrockians in one sweep. He entered the building through the door, and, after making sure there were no mages nearby, opened the small trap-door that led to the sewer. He dropped down inside, and closed the trapdoor above him. He was in a small, dark room, but he wasn’t alone.

Sileo Umbra stood opposite of him, wearing the same dark-brown clothes and mask that he had worn to the earlier meeting. Thaltis stepped forward, “Well, when are you going to strike at Marat Xeyos?”

Sileo’s eyes narrowed, “I am not going to waste my men attempting to kill a powerful mage surrounded by other mages. We will just have to wait for the opportune moment.”

Thaltis shook his head, dissatisfied with the answer, “But he is here now! Out of his fortress!”

“Rule one in assassination, Pick your fights, your stage, your time. Our scheme is ruined if we rush off and try to kill him now. You stay by his side and serve him as best as you can, I have business elsewhere.” Sileo then disappeared from sight.

Thaltis shook his head once again, and began climbing back up the ladder…

Aaron Berus  20:14, 30 May 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Twenty-Two
In the time between my last entry and now, Haru, Camilla, and Garrison had been captured, and taken to a relatively new base in Ourania. Truthfully, it was what the Khult members could only call "a lethally bad idea".

Haru was suspended on a long metal rod, clothes sparse, arms out, over a pit of lava. His arms were fastened to it. In the distance, he could see the famous Ouranian altar, with Camilla and Garrison attached to the pillars on it. "Why does this always happen to me?" he groaned.

A Khult member was poking him with a burning stick, screaming at him stuff like "What are you! Why do you like melee when mage is the true path!"

Any other person with as much endurance as Haru would just ignore it. However, as must be explained, "any other person or thing" is not Haru. Anything remotely like Haru tends to have numerous mental disorders. Or get seriously (bleeped) in a remarkably short amount of time.

"Don't lie to us! If you do, Ritsuko will be destroyed, you useless brutal-"

That was all it took.

"I HATE DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR!" Haru yelled, and somehow appeared behind the torturer.

"How did you-"

Haru booted him in the face. He ran over to Garrison and Camillia, untying them. "Seriously," Garrison said, "How did you do that?"

Haru gestured to the rod. A person-the exact same as Haru, except for the fact that she was a girl, dressed in tight pants and a shirt. "Uh, a little help here, Haru?"

With that, he stretched his arm out, grabbing her, and safely getting her onto the ground. "I'm Haru's sister, Danika. Dani for short."

"How did you..." Garrison gasped.

"Two words: Fake. Arm." Dani replied. "You would not like what's happened to the world, 'Mila. Almost all the kingdoms are under siege, with the exception of the elf lands and Morytania."

"The Khult?" Camillia asked.

"The Khult," Dani confirmed. "I've heard they'll be moving on Relekka soon enough."

Garrison gasped. "You know my sister?"

"Yeah."

"She's a part-time dance instructor at Rosentoren plaza," Haru said. "Which, coincidentally, happens to be where we need to go. Now, I need to get to Dorgesh-Kaan. Quite soon, in fact. If that city is compromised, we'll have to relocate to Dorgesh-Kell. Good thing nobody is there, aye?"

"Dorgesh-Kell? Dorgesh-Kaan? Rosentoren Plaza? I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Garrison observed.

"Dorgesh-Kaan is the last outpost of civilized goblinkind, located somewhere under Lumbridge."

"Goblins?"

"Gods, you are clueless... You fight HAM and you don't know of them?!"

Haru Axeman 16:51, 31 May 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Twenty-Three
Varrock Library

Death stalked the corridors of Varrock's vast Library, doing its best to imitate heavy breathing and closely following a rather disheartened Reldo. It noticed the many tomes on the shelves, each with their own frilly backing and eloquent lettering that seemed to glow whenever Death looked at them. It could sense that Reldo was shivering, and it also knew that Reldo didn’t quite know why he was walking towards the “Myth” section, or why he felt a very cold breeze on his back every time he took a wrong turning. Reldo stopped, and felt a rather chillier breeze go through his anorak. Slowly, he reached towards the torch on the wall, and turned around.

Of course, he saw nothing, but there was a certain newfound certainty in Reldo’s face that upset Death (or would, if it could be upset). Contently, he turned around again and started walking forward, eventually stopping a shelf and picking a large black grimmoire from the bottom shelf. He turned towards Death and held it blindly somewhere near its chin. Death took the book, and it disappeared from Reldo’s view.

“Just as I thought,” said Reldo, “If you need anything else, Death, just return!” And with that he walked through it, whistling a funeral tune. Watching Reldo walk away, Death tried its best to smile. He opened the book, and started reading.

“Chapter Twain – When a tymer runs out b’forehand

Thys ‘ere tome shall tell ye what to do if one of yer tymers goes owt b’fore the lad or lass’s demyse.

Questions to ask ye’self:


 * 1) .) Is yer lad or lass a being o’ power? Is they a magical being who cannot be killed?


 * 1) .) Is the lad or lass in question the only one wi’ that name? Have ye got yer names wrong?


 * 1) .) Is there a serious disturbance in yer passage o’ history? Lyke un-forseeable genocide or a strange event lyke a fallin’ star?

If ye answer any of the questions on this ‘ere page wi’ “Ye”, then go to pages Quin, Glott or Vignet for ye answers. If ye call “Ney”, then thys ‘ere book can do neither nor nothing for ye.”

Andrew 16:50, 2 July 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Twenty-Four
Behold, the Imperium of the Mage!

Spanning half the known world, a new utopia. Gone are the rotting ruins of the old order of the sword, where men and monsters dared to waste their muscles and minds of the fusion of metals and the destruction of lands for the construction of mere tools to build or kill. In its place stands the new communities, rising from the ashes of the ancient and decadent society. In the place of the old towns stand sparkling metropolises built from the raw energy locked up in the runestones!

And at the heart of this new Imperium stands the vast Palace of the Gods. Covering the entirety of the old and evil Varrock this tremendous structure is surrounding in curling beams of energy that glow from the huge nodes of pure rune essence that jut from the walls. No wizard, witch or warlock goes without place here - a temple to every God, diety and spirit is here.

And at the core of this is the Tower of Xeyos, the one man who dreamt and built it all!

"Welcome to Apocalypse Haunt."

The sign was scribbled on a poorly cut piece of wood, and hung, glimmering in the torchlight, gloomily over the dark town. Head hung low, Elix walked into the huge tent city, illuminated by a thousand flickering candles and lamps and the sullen moon. His feet squelched in the muddy ground, and a cold wind slapped his face. To his nose wafted the smell of sweat, plague, death and despair, and to his ears came moans and sobs.

Two black-suited guards watched over the never-ending horde of refugees, filing in from the south. A flicker of optimism pointed out to Elix that only in times like these could the presence of two malevolent and mysterious Black Knights be trusted to guard a thousand or more people.

It had taken him three days to reach the Haunt. Three days, running from the Khult which now ruled the three kingdoms and trekking across the Wilderness. Some had chosen to remain behind; accepting magic as a way of life was hardly danger, they said. Some had even been rewarded, Elix had heard, like Reldo the Librarian with a new library, and others. But from what they had seen the Khult do - mercilessly burn fleeing civilians and countless other atrocities convinced most that safety lay only out of the reach of the Magi. Apocalypse Haunt was a vast refugee camp for those who thought that way; a sprawling tent city in the Wilderness, the last refuge point since the refugees from Lumbridge had been almost entirely killed by a cyclone called up as they neared Karamja.

Darkness. Fear. Hatred. Despair. Vengefulness. Depression.

And a little hope?

All this had been felt by everyone who hadn't defected to the Khult. As he entered the camp, Elix saw these emotions everywhere, on every face, be it human, elvin, dwarven, gnomic, even goblin, troll or ogre. Passing down under the lonely silence of the night he came to the core of the fortnight-old tent city.

A huge, rudimentary fortress, built of what resources could be salvaged from the Wilderness, or had been carried there by the homeless. Guards patrolled, brandishing crossbows, longbows, spears and swords. A crowd gathered out by the front - and a strange energy was growing within them.

"What's happening?" Elix asked to a toothless old man.

"Food!" his gums muttered, on his lined face capped with tendrils of thin grey hair.

"Food?"

Suddenly, there was a massive commotion. Elix turned to see sacks be tossed randomly from the roof of the fortress. Wherever they landed, fights broke out, vicious squabbles. One slapped Elix's face as it slid by and onto the ground next to him. It burst, scattering grain everywhere.

Instantly, the crowd surged towards it, bending down onto the ground. As people tried to siphon grain from the mud more thronged inwards. Fingers broke. People were crushed. Elix was buffeted to and fro inside his armour.

He saw the old man, lying on the ground, face buried in slime.

"Stop this!" Elix cried, as his eyes widened. "Stop it! STOP THIS!"

But his huge voice was drowned under the cries for food.

His hand reached for his pocket, drawing a bottle. Elix stared at it regretfully - an eighty-year-old spirit of unimaginable value he had looted from the ruins of Camelot. Sighing, he pulled the cork, lit a match, dropped it in, and threw it on the ground.

The fireball sent people screaming.

"ENOUGH!" bellowed Elix, voice surging like a tidal wave across the crowd. Silence fell. "ARE WE ANIMALS? HAS THIS ARMY OF MAGI PUSHED US SO LOW AS TO LOSE THE LAST TENNETS OF OUR DIGNITY?"

People shuffled, nervously. In the light of the dying fireball, people shrugged.

"WE HAVE PUT UP WITH THIS FOR FAR ENOUGH!" Elix roared. "WE HAVE WATCHED OUR LOVED ONES BE KILLED BY THE MAGIC-USERS! WE HAVE SEEN EVERYTHING WE KNOW DESTROYED. I CAN TAKE THAT. BUT I CANNOT STAND SEEING OLD MEN DIE AS WE FIGHT LIKE PIGS FOR SCRAPS!"

He let his speech sink in.

"THIS PERSECUTION HAS LASTED FAR ENOUGH! TONIGHT, I SAY WE PREPARE TO BRING BACK OUR LANDS! WHO'S WITH ME?"

"I am!" piped up a red-headed young woman.

"Me too!" called a voice in the crowd. Soon there was calls of support from everywhere.

"I AM ELIX MAKAR," he declared, "AND I WILL LEAD YOU TO VICTORY!"

The crowd erupted in a spectacular cheer, chanting his name, they pushed Elix to the front, so that all could see him.

Marat Xeyos raised an inquisitive, entertained eyebrow as the flickering image of the crowd drew to a close.

"It begins..." he smiled.

--

Chapter Twenty-Five
Yatta! I haven't contaminated the story!

...

Haru was, for all intents and purposes, monumentally p@##*&amp;. He hadn't really been a major player in the war that seemed to have started over the course of a couple days. He'd been a POW a couple days, after obliterating most of the Khult's Yanille invasion force, and left a bloody swath of destruction, Dani and Garrison by his side, across the lands to Yanille's Magic Guild so he could use the teleport relay station there.

He and his companions had arrived in Dorgesh-Kaan, noting how it was now full of people. All sorts of people and beings-it had become a cesspool not unlike "Apocalypse Haunt", in a desolate part of the lands. All were in horrible condition-there wasn't much food to go around in the city anyways..

Within the 900 seconds he was there, he and his friends were forced to beat off several scammers and bandits who had leapt at them, and destroy at least 12 familiars.

Total anarchy-and none of the Dorgeshuun guard, led by Captain Undak could really do much.

Sure, Haru liked a little chaos now and then-it's why he helped resurrect the Mahjarrat Hazeel, it's why he helped Zaros and his followers on occasion and it's a natural part of Runescape-something the Khult's new regime would, in all probability, obliterate completely.

This was too much of a not-so-good thing.

Zanik rushed over to Haru. "What's going on?!" she asked. "I was exploring the tunnels when there was this huge earthquake-"

"Mage equivalent of Nazis, mass genocide, destruction of all melee or range-using people in world... fill in the blanks."

"Na-"

"You'd rather not know," Haru interrupted. "And before anyone asks what I'm going to do, I am going to STOP THIS MADNESS!"

"Any plan to speak of?" Dani asked.

"Plan, schman. I'm just going to make this up as I go along." Haru thrust himself through the crowds, using his enormous fists to break through them. Obviously, he didn't care what happened.

At about the time when an old man in a refugee camp in a desolate wasteland was about to be trampled to death by half-starved refugees, Haru jumped up on the head of the statue of himself he had earned by obliterating a large part of a God-which is Another Story-and shot his blunderbuss into the air, oddly colored flames shooting out of the barrel. "ARE WE NOT MEN?!" he yelled.

Nothing happened.

"f^*=," he muttered. ''Jas... Saradomin... Armadyl... Guthix... Zamorak or Zaros even... please, by all the Gods on this world, please give me a sign of how to stop this madness-''

Then it all clicked into place. He couldn't remember much-it was just shooting a miniature cannon, antique by his standards-

Wait.

There was something about the flames... there was an odd tint. It was...

"Green!" Haru yelled in sudden, inexplicable happiness. "Th' flames were green!" he felt around on his belt. "this little pouch of salt is leaking..."

It was the pouch of salt he used in his magic, it was the salt he used to give his battle spells a little more kick...

"Harusengan!" he yelled, sprinkling the salt in his hand. It began to get really windy in the cavern, then-

At the exact moment that an ex-soldier skilled in martial arts was smashing a Molotov Cocktail on the Wilderness' ground, a huge explosion of green flame shot out of Haru's right hand, pointed up. "I SAID, ARE WE NOT MEN?!" Haru yelled.

This time, people paid attention to this huge, six foot six man on top of the statue. Then a gnome spoke up: "Well, I'm not a man... I'm a gnome."

Haru groaned. "Okay, let me start over." And, as if nothing had not happened: "ARE WE NOT MEN? ARE WE NOT BEINGS WITH FREE WILL AND FEELINGS?"

All the beings in the cavern with some capability of logical thought nodded at this.

"DID WE WANT THESE PSYCHOTIC MAGES TO UPROOT US ALL AND ATTEMPT TO DESTROY THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT?!"

"NO!" everyone yelled.

"Watch my big brother, he's on a roll," Dani smiled.

"THEY DESTROYED MISTHALIN, THEY FORCED YOU FROM YOUR HOMES, BUT REDUCING YOU TO THIS WAS THE FINAL STRAW! DO YOU LOVE THIS LAND AS IT WAS?!" Haru yelled.

"YES!"

"THEY BELIEVE THOSE WHO USE THEIR MUSCLES, THOSE WHO USE THE WHIP INSTEAD OF WIND, THE SWORD INSTEAD OF SMOKE, ARE ALL UNCLEAN, THAT WE ARE NOTHING BUT A PARASITE THAT SHOULD BE ERADICATED FOREVER! I HAVE FACED THIS BEFORE, IN ANOTHER TIME AND WORLD-FOR THE GROUP OF PEOPLE WHOSE WAY OF LIFE THAT I CHOSE TO BE WITH, PEOPLE ACCUSED ME OF SUPPORTING THE PEOPLE WHO HUNG UP ON A CROSS ONE OF THE GREATEST MEN IN THEIR HISTORY! LOOK AT THIS!" he pulled aside his duster to reveal a six-pointed, relatively, turtle shaped symbol on one of his amulets. "BECAUSE OF THIS SYMBOL WHICH I CHOSE TO UPHOLD, PEOPLE RIDICULED ME, THEY HATED ME, BUT I DID NOT GO BACK BECAUSE THEY WERE A GOOD, INNOCENT PEOPLE!"

Few understood it, but they were cheered on nonetheless.

"MY FRIEND'S FAMILY SUFFERED THROUGH A PERIOD IN TIME WHERE OVER SIX MILLION OF THEIR KIND WERE KILLED OFF IN FACTORIES OF DEATH, AND I LEARNED ONE THING FROM THAT HISTORY-ACTION MUST BE TAKEN AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! THE CORRECT 'APPROACH' IS NOT TO SIT BACK AND TAKE IT, BUT TO NIP IT IN THE BUD BEFORE IT CAN GROW INTO A HORRIBLE MONSTER THAT THREATENS THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT!"

"DEATH TO THE MAGES!" A man yelled. Everyone cheered. "WE'LL KILL ALL THE B-DS!"

"WAIT!" Haru yelled. "HOW MANY OF YOU ARE MAGES OR PEOPLE WITH MAGIC ABILITY?!"

About 145 people raised their hands.

"IF WE JUST COMMIT GENOCIDE AGAINST ALL OF THEM, WE'RE DOWN TO THEIR LEVEL! I SAY WE KILL THEIR LEADER! BY KILLING THE LEADER, THEY ARE EFFECTIVELY LEFT AS A BUNCH OF SCATTERED CRAZIES, NONE A REAL THREAT TO THE WORLD!"

Everyone cheered at this.

"IF ANYONE HERE HAS FOOD, SUPPLIES, ARMOR, RUNES, WEAPONS OR ANY OTHER USEFUL THINGS TO SPARE, GIVE THEM TO THOSE WITH NOT ENOUGH!"

Quickly, almost everyone rushed to the bank to withdraw the 'specified' items.

"How'd I do?" Haru asked, jumping off his head.

"Brilliant!" Dani hugged him, her eyes sparkling. "Truly, Ritsuko would have been proud."

What might have been a beautiful moment was interrupted by upwards of 2000 Khult members pouring into the city. "Captain, we've discovered the refugee camp!" one yelled into a commorb.

Haru drew his battleaxe. All over the city, cannons were pointed, runes were readied, arrows and bolts were nocked, and swords were unsheathed and drawn.

All over the city, weapons were readied.

"Bring on the rain," Haru grinned.

Haru Axeman 02:46, 8 July 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Twenty-Six
The Wizard's Tower was not holding out well. Magi from the Khult-expecting a peaceful assimilation had come in with ceremonial staves and robes.

The bridge separated them from the mainland by about a mile-so they accepted the new mages as a new division sent by the King to help them.

When word of the Razing of Varrock came, they didn't mind when several wards and a magical barricade were set up. When clothes began to disappear, they didn't mind when they had to wear robes.

But when books of all kinds began to disappear and reappear slightly altered, they became suspicious. Their fears gained ground, once adventurers were taken into the caverns beneath the tower, or the essence mines-and nothing came out. Screams could sometimes be heard from the laboratories down below.

Crates-with strange beasts inside-were shipped out, or thrown into the sea.

Well, once word of the Khult, and their depredations against all non-mages came in, they threw the strange mages out, and fought to keep themselves-and the adventurers who survived the experiments safe.

However, it was a losing battle.

The Khult had summoned two steel titans, and was about to use them to take out all the mages in the tower, when-

BOOM

A tall, 6 foot 6 muscled man whose long white hair had black tips, was standing on the waves. His long blue coat fluttered in the breeze. "Anyone call for an exterminator?"

"Haru! You've been a thorn in our sides too long! You can't possibly fight us all!" a Khult member yelled.

"Oh, I probably could. But I can at least let these guys take out some anger on you. Can't take all the blood for myself, can I?"

A vortex appeared at the end of the bridge oppposite the tower-thousands of warriors, rangers, mages, dwarves, gnopmes, black knights, goblins, and many other things were visible through it. Gradually, they walked out. The rangers drew back their bows, and-

TWANG

SPLAT-SPLAT-SPLAT-CRASH-KEEEEEEEEEEEERANCH

Millions of arrows rained down.

Haru decided to take the opportunity. "HEEEEREEEEEEEEEEEE'S JOHNNY!" he yelled, and appeared in the middle of the Khult members, startling them and cutting through at least 5 of them.

"But your name isn't Johnny..." one Khult member confusedly observed.

"Well, thanks. BUT I DON'T GIVE A F^%&amp;!" Haru yelled, randomly flying into a bezerker rage, slashing and hacking through hundreds of Khult members, miraculously not cutting through any of the Misthalin refugees.

Dani and Haru cut a bloody swath (accompanied with a bit of Earth, Air, Water, Fire, Blood, and Smoke magicks)through the Khult members, until they got to the back of the Khult-who had been thoroughly decimated by the wrath of all the refugees with warrior's spirits.

Haru and Dani each raised what looked like a foot-long blunderbusses with cylinders fixed in near the back. There were 12 gunshots.

As soon as the last Khult members had been thoroughly beaten and battered, Haru stopped a Khult member about to teleport out. "Tell Marat Xeyos that I won't take this lying down. Oh, and I want Ritsuko back. If he doesn't give her back, I am going to-well, lets not think about that."

"Smoke Blitz!" he yelled, light blue smoke appearing in his hand, as he punched the guy.

back in what used to be Varrock...

A Khult member with a broken jaw flew into the wall of the teleport hangar. "Ow..." he groaned. "This guy Haru asked me to tell Xeyos that he won't take something lying down, he wants Ritsuko back, or he will rip our empire apart. More or less. We should probably mention that he has enough refugees to fill Dorgesh-kaan several times over."

A high-ranking Khult official walked by. "This will not end well..."

...

The outlying outposts of the Khult reported a violent mob of displaced citizens of Runescape, led by a tall man wearing a blue coat whose white hair had black tips-apparently wielding a battleaxe, and with some magical ability.

Haru Axeman 01:49, 10 August 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Twenty-Seven
Deep in the sewers, the assassin Sileo was not pleased. Robin Erus stood before him, giving him news that he did not want to hear.

“There is a mob that is standing up to the Khult, in the Wizard’s Tower. They are pushing the Khult’s forces back.”

“Who are they led by?”

“A tall man who was previously of no importance. We think he is a low adventurer who has yet to make a name for himself.”

“Does he have a chance at defeating the Khult?”

“I do not know, he is gaining more soldiers as he saves more refugees.”

“Hmm… We cannot take any chances. We need the Khult to win so the destabilization can commence. Lets go, this band of refugee-warriors won’t stand a chance.”

Sileo, Robin, Timor, Ruo, and Crescent quickly threw down their Tele-Tabs and teleported to Lumbridge, where they disappeared from public view and began their hunt of the tall mob-leader. Sileo was armed with his deadly dragon daggers and his hidden supply of melee weapons, Robin was armed with his crossbow, Timor with his bloody Dragon Claws, Ruo with his supply of ancient spells, and Crescent with his deadly Dragon Mace.

Aaron Berus  22:37, 23 August 2009 (UTC)

Chapter Twenty-Eight
Five days of training, the stranger had become more powerful than before. His training with Thetys has almost come to an end.

"You have trained well, and.... one more thing,"said Thetys

"What is it?"

"I haven;t known your name since the first day we started,"

"My name is Mark Phillips,"

"Very Well,"

They continued their training until the end of the day. Meanwhile, a few miles south of the coast of Port Sarim, an armada of ships appear out of the dense ocean fog.

"General Snider!"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Do you have intel on the Khult's current base of operations or their advance to any location at all before we land ashore, just to make sure our fleet doesn't fall into an ambush, or fall too far of course,"

"Ehhh...... no, my lord. Our scouts haven't returned yet. Though our last report from the trackers shows a base of operations of an unknown force has been setup near falador,"

"Good, any intel on the rebellion forces?"

"My lord, they have been wiped out entirely off of Misthalin and Asgarnia, they are retreating towards Kandarin where hopefully they should get ambushed by our land troops,"

"Music to my ears General,"

"Yes, my lord,"

"Continue your preparations for the attack run. I hope your dragons don't get hungry while you're flying em' round,"

"Oh no, my lord, these Exannin blessed dragons do not have to eat. They are powerful weapons indeed as their fighting is their rest,"

"Exannin blessed? Hmmm, we've only managed to bless flower pots with our magic abilities,"

"My lord, these dragons are the rarest of their kind, no matter how strong they are, or how hot their fiery breath of flames are, but to hold such great energy in their souls that'd they fight for a month without stopping to rest, surely, even I myself cannot bless such a majestic creature like the dragon, a blessing would take the rituals to their highest potential, clerics from all Exannin organisations to bless a single dragon, taking days of preparation and blessing. But the secret my lord......."

"Hmmm, The secret?"

"The dragons are blessed.......... by Vath himself,"

"Vath....... he finally revealed himself, the mortal side of our very own Leader, long live....... Exannin,"

"Long live Exannin,"

Suddenly, one of the first mates, who was just climbing down from the crows nest of the eastern battleship, spotted a huge fireball, hurling itself towards the fleet.

"INCOMING!" shouted another first mate


 * BOOM* A huge explosion which sank three ships and damaging two others.

"We have been spotted!! Quickly to your stations," ordered Lord Drakath

General Snider was just on his way to the transport ship when a huge plank smashed into the foremast, take out half the ship. General Snider flew to one side of the sheep due to the impact of the foremast crashing down onto the ship's hull. As he peered over the remaining debris, in the distance, he saw a massive line of soldiers and mages, and in the middle. A great knight rides on the back of his steed as he points his holy blade towards the sun.

The Templars have arrived.

-            [Talk♦  ♠ Cont ♠  ♦Edits]  13:39, 24 August 2009 (UTC)

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