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"You are a Wilderness Guardian. That northern wasteland; that land of blood, desolation and death is your dominion. Tonight we are going home." ~His Lordship |
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Posted: November 19, 2010 01:43 pm  | |||
      IRC Nickname: DG_Keanu Group: Council Posts: 4782 Member No.: 2033 Joined: August 25, 2009 Total Events Attended: 173    | By Wildflame110 He smiled, his face lighting up as he contemplated the slaughter to come. He stood, waiting, as familiar faces appeared in the bank, greeting him, joking about blood, ale and women, as they usually did. He opened his bank account, withdrawing his cyan armour, burnished and shining in the cool morning air, and a backpack full of deliciously cooked fish. He strapped on his armour, basking in the new respect with which people viewed him. He strode outside, and contemplated his battle-axe, gleaming and polished. Almost eager to drink the blood of other warriors, it seemed. Within a few moments, the men of his clan – friends and comrades, all – were standing behind him in neat formation. Without speaking a word, he marched off into the dead brown land, well-clad warriors in a riot of many different-coloured capes following behind. She smiled, blinking sleep from her eyes as she woke and walked to the bank. She checked her armour, her cape, her wickedly curved scimitar – and promptly sat down to wake up quietly. Around her, bickering friends argued and joked, creating a truly massive wall of sound as at least a hundred people packed into a space that was never meant for such a crowd. She heard her leader’s yell to form up, and shoved her way through the crowd until she found him and his clan, formed up and ready to move. Taking her place in the ranks, she checked she had everything. “Armour – check. Weapon – check. Purple cape – check. Food - …” She’d forgotten her food! She scrambled back through the ranks of her friends and shoved her way through to the bank window, filling her backpack with what food she saw. Sprinting back to her place, she smiled at those around her as they marched off behind their leader into the dead brown land, resplendent in their purple cloaks and matching cyan armour. The grand image was only spoiled by the sounds of aimless chatter and gossip from within the ranks. He reclined on the grey dusty earth, shivering despite his thick and heavy clothing and armour. His battle-axe lay in the dust beside him, and his men waited on the plain behind a hillock. On the hillock lay a ruined church – red winged shapes lurked through the building and around it. He sat in quiet thought for a few minutes, readying himself for the bloodshed to come. He could already feel his pulse quickening, and his eyes were beginning to tint the horizon red. The purple-caped army marched deeper into the dead land, crossing over a threshold that separated the dead from the rotting. Ahead and underfoot, grey dust was disturbed by a century of feet, as warriors walked to their doom. She walked with them, silent and thoughtful, as the gossip and chatter of young men and women broke the solitude of the early morning. She watched, and was silent. They arrived at a hill, on top of which was a crumbling ruin. Demons, tall and mighty, strode through the shattered hall of worship, shattering old bones beneath their feet. The purple-caped army spread out, ready and waiting for the approach of their doom. She smiled; doom, death and misfortune had never destroyed her before – she’d be damned to spend eternity in the core of a crystallizing star before she would give up hope. That quality made her friends call her insane. He grabbed his battle-axe, and roared to his men “It is time! Let us spill the blood of these self-righteous fools, and claim from them what is our due!” His men cheered, and one by one they turned their minds to the words that would make them move, not across plains and mountains, but across worlds. She waited for them to come – she could sense some trick, but it wasn’t until a man strode out of nothingness in front of her that she realized the nature of the deceit. She whipped her weapon out of its scabbard, and slashed the man with all her strength. To her amazement, he barely noticed his injury, turning to unleash elemental magic upon her. She smiled – it was going to be a fun morning. He smiled back, then his eyes glowed red for a moment. Flame rained down upon her. Her friends ran up to him, hacking and slashing. He was cut to ribbons in moments, but left her injured and weak. She reached back to her backpack and got out some food, surveying the battlefield for her next target as she restored her health with the sweet meat of seafood. She looked at another mage, and charged into him, hacking wildly as her friends did. One of her friends crumpled in a fight just beyond; she was distracted for a moment, and her swing went wild. Nonetheless, she swung again and again, until all that was left of him was a pointy hat. A friend had claimed the kill; she neither knew nor cared which it was. Instead, she licked the blood off her weapon, and charged into an armoured man, striking him again and again. Her strikes were effective, she saw. The man ran, despite being vastly stronger than the lady. To an outside observer, it might have appeared comic. To her, it was delicious revenge, and she kept pace with this coward, spilling his blood as he ran around like a headless chicken. She was going to win! The taste of victory, much like the taste of blood, was on her tongue. But as she went to deliver a killing blow, a wild stroke from another battle smashed her on the side of the head, and she fell, losing consciousness. Her mind thrashed at the confines of an empty, black space. She wasn’t dead – she knew that much – but without will, her body would simply be loot for any man that desired to straddle her and rip off her armour. Her mind, enraged, tore and rent the barriers of night, and she slowly began to sense the battlefield once more. He smiled, and kissed his battle-axe. It had served him faithfully thus far, putting paid to three people by his own hand, and helping kill several more. He led from the front, clearing the fog of war from his men while the foe were still under the influence of the confusion and chaos of battle. They were being decimated, and just as well; we are vastly superior, he thought. So much for these noobish saradomin clans. She woke, and was on her feet in moments. She stood, and surveyed the carnage. Fully a third of the combatants were on the ground now, but far more of her friends than her foes. She roared, and charged back into the fight. Foes everywhere, hacking, stabbing, thirsting for her blood. She fought and she fed, even asking Guthix for assistance to let her survive longer in this cauldron of death. Guthix responded – she felt her foes’ strikes weaken, and her own become that much better. She was clearly blessed for the moment, she thought. Then a battle-axe, striking with Zamorak’s own power, cleaved her shield in two, and crunched into her body. She felt her own blood well up into her mouth, and she appreciated the salty, coppery taste, before the axe filled her vision again, and let her see her god more clearly. He laughed and snorted at the insignificant woman he had just destroyed. She had put up a good fight, yes – but was still no match for him, he thought, disregarding the ten other people who had contributed. Such was the way of the followers of Zamorak. He halted as he heard a man’s laugh echo over the blood-stained earth. It sounded like the woman he had killed… the grinning, insufferable man was actually laughing at him! He drew his weapon and swung at the imprudent face. His axe stuck into a wall of magical force, a mere finger’s width from being planted into the man’s skull. The man laughed all the more. Unable to kill this most distressing foe, he bragged about his bravery and power. The man just laughed, and walked off, not even bothering to vanish as he turned his back to the impotent warrior, whose cyan armour was splattered with blood. When the battlefield was left empty, vultures gathered overhead, to pick at the bodies of the fallen. Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tc4QupU7Y80 --------------------  [05:42] <+WG_Keanu> I think I got a semi just looking at the pic [05:42] <%kat> same | ||
Posted: November 19, 2010 02:31 pm | |||
| IRC Nickname: [Randy] Group: Raid Leader Posts: 5065 Member No.: 16 Joined: December 29, 2007 Total Events Attended: 499 | tl;dr --------------------   | ||
Posted: November 20, 2010 12:39 am | |||
 IRC Nickname: Zooby Group: Guest Posts: 1669 Member No.: 1464 Joined: November 12, 2008 Total Events Attended: 109 |
^ so true. -------------------- A Revolution without dance is a Revolution not worth having at all Lightbulbs die my sweet, I will depart | ||
Wilderness Guardians vs Rune Outlaws