sephiroth_king

Hm. Not bad. There were a couple of things, one being the font. I wish it were bigger. The other being the use of quotes from the mother, son, and monk. Whenever someone knew talks, try to start a knew paragraph, so it should look like this: "I want you to forget about me, son, and move on with your life, even if I love you so much." Her voice sounded weak, as if she was in pain. "I love you, too." Then after the monk talks, start a knew paragraph, too. Other than that, good start...But I can't say anymore, since it's a little short.

Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say yu can't keep up, because you are. But you are right. The story is kinda wierd now, due to the festival, mad king thing, and adventurers. I can clarify a few: 1.My character knows King Roald, and knows he's not crazy, so my story isn't really going with some. 2.The festival is getting stranger, due to the meeting of people and lack of the first few people who originally signed up. 3.The adventurers ar normal. Just a little wacked because they saw too many wars. These things are what we have to build around. The whole point of the story is a cooperation, and so far Three out of the five (Or more) people we based the story around are still split up (Except a few). Now, like I said, there isn't a lot of co-op going around. Some of us are taking the story and making it our own (It seems). For example: 1. Fienrir is talking to King Roald before the festival (Maybe an hour before) and makes a public speech, not even shy or anything. Either Haggard is paranoid, or he actually may think this...Fienrir is a hero, and Roald and he are best friends. Also not mixing well with the story, Fienrir is older than Roald in my part of the story. Roald is younger. So that makes Roald twenty four. So Issy's story and my story can't go together without causing a riot. Then, after we thought you guys would never come back, a bunch of us write about the beggining to the second night of the festival, and Issy says the festival is a week from now. Well, first off, zipper11 was the one who thought of the festival. So I took that idea and created the festival. Issy, I guess, tried to use the festival idea, too, and thought of it as being later. As I was in wonderland with a few others, we wrote about the festival on, and on, and on...Until Issy says it's not until later. There is but one reason my story cannot fuse with Issy's without adjustments: 1.Fienrir is based on one of my characters in a story, known as The_Advent, as Roald was young, and adventurous, and Fienrir was young and almost like a warlord. Read the story if you want. If you read a little of that, I'm sure you would understand. But I'm not forcing you, since I'm updating it and stuff. That concludes. What should we do, Issy?

I regret to inform you, due to lack of people coming on to write their pieces of the story, all have us have been working on the festival (I'm not sure about archimage_a), so the festival has already begun. Now that you are back, we can make more of the festival by meeting up, but like I said, most have us are working on that. The last I saw of you was page four, and I thought you would remember the Roald speech and the chase of Hylean. So, three of us have been working around the festival. I'm sorry about the confusion, but if we had waited for a couple of people for the festival to begin, a couple of us would not have met up. (So far Hylean, Ed and Fienrir have met up). :uhh: So what should we do? I'll still go on with the festival, as will a couple of others. We can't negate ANYTHING that has happened on the previous pages. But this story can't be a story without more dedicated characters (I don't mean you, Issy; I'm talking about the other's who don't even bother)...

Chapter 14: Liberi Fatali "Wake up!" "It's hopeless...He'll probably be knocked out for another ten hours for all we know." The man angrily stomped. "Calm down." "Calm down? father, the armies of the accursed Zamorak are creeping ever so close! We cannot hope to stand a chance without a field commander!" Fienrir pretended to stay asleep, listening to the rest of the conversation: "As much as it pains me to say it, but...You are right. We don't stand a chance without Fienrir. But here me out: we need our best wizards to reawaken him at this hour, or he might never---" Fienrir shot up. "Wake up?" Fienrir's eyes were blurry, but he adjusted to this new sensation; he now realized that the angry man was Roald, now blushed and asshmed of being angered; and king Syrese, who was grinning, happy that Fienrir was awake. "You see, Roald? He has awakened." Roald plopped back onto the chair, shuffling it closer. "Wha...What? Were am I?" Fienrir was a bit worried of his location. Last I remember, I was climbing down the hill away from Tiresias. "You are in the medical wing of the castle that rests within the kingdom of Verquizan." Fienrir jumped in shock: "I told Reldo to go to Veriquizan! I wasn't halucinating...But how did I become unconsious?" "No...You were still halucinating..." Roald laughed. " As for you becoming unconcious... After you saw the bodies around you, you were...Shocked. You threw up some blood, fainted, and you had a minor seizure. So we picked you up and traveled for a full day or so...If we hadn't arrived here in a day's time, you would be dead. Now, during your unconsiousness, you were talking to yourself...Sounded like you were "Talking" to a man named Tiresias, as you asked him a few questions, then said good-bye and other farewells. " Fienrir sighed with relief, as he plopped his head against his soft pillow. At least they got me here in time...But I really felt as though I spoke with Tiresias... "The doctor said if you woke up, you had a couple of hours to get re-situated, then you could move around and do the stuff you love to do." Roald rose from his chair. "Indeed. But...There's a catch." Fienrir's face filled with worry. "Do not fear...Okay, you can cower a little if you want." King Syrese let out a soft chuckle, then continued: "As you can imagane...The Zamorakinas plan to obliterate this Citadel as well." Fienrir's face filled with hatred, as he blurted out: "Dammit! They're coming this way, aren't they?" King Syrese's head drooped down. "Those damned..." Fienrir's face became cleared away of the hate. "I must seek counsel with the king of this land!" Syrese jerked his head up in suprise, as he excitedly said: "Great! He anticipated that. He has already set up counsel with you; he thinks you could lead our troops into victory, so thank the sages and Saradmoin for waking you!" Syrese rose from his seat. "Roald and I will leave you to recover at this point. Remember this: in two hours, walk straight down the hallway until you meet a granite staircase. State your name to the gaurds, and they will let you through." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "What be your buisiness here, warrior from the South?" The gaurd gripped his blade's handle tighter, in case he would have to combat against him. "My name is Fienrir, and I was schedualed a conference with the king." The gaurd dropped his gaurd. Fienrir walked up, suddenly pulling the man's arm back in a disarm manuever. "You should know never to let your gaurd down." Fienrir released the man's arm. "Very well. Lesson learned. You may pass." The gaurd grinned grimly. Fienrir stepped up to the massive door structure, as two other gaurds pulled it open. Fienrir was amazed at the architecture of the inside: the Chandilier's were made of pure diamonds and swarvorski crystals, as they glinted and shone in the fire's twinkling light; the halls were made of pure granite and gold, with a single red carpet down the center, leading to the kings chair. The king awaited him near the middle of the hallway. "You must be Fienrir!" The king walked up and held out his hand, "It is very nice to meet a knight of your calibur!" "Your highness, it is impolite for you to walk towards me---" "Oh, negate that rule! For someone who is a great strategist like yourself, I must be the one to welcome you." The king put his arms around Fienrir's shoulder, leading him back to the throne room's chair. "Oh---Your highness. I don't want to be rude, but what is your name?" Fienrirgulped. He didn't want to anger the king. "Oh, how rude of me!" The king climbed back to his throne. As he sat down, his face became more noble and serious, and his voice deepend as he proclaimed: "I am King Daphnes Verquizan Vad'Idlien; you look at the ruler of Vad'Idlien itself." Fienrir gasped, nearly falling on his back. "Yes...Now we must discuss the matters of the war. It seem my brother---May his soul rest in peace---" He stopped, and began a silent meidtation prayer. Fienrir joined him. He quickly raised his head, as he spoke in a sorrowful voice: "It truly angers me when an army of a dark lord must come and destroy everything. We were a peacful land, and never had to prepare for battle. But I said 'Train troops, just in case.' I was right! Now, through all of the suffering that we have endured, the losses of massive amounts of people in Vad'Idlien...Is now making this land barren and full of death. We, Fienrir, are the only remaining kingdom standing." Fienrir listened intently in the old man's words. "King Vad'Idlien...Your other bretheren are dead? This land was said to contain the five kingdom's of light...You tell me, now, Verquizan is the last one remaining?" Fienrir heated up with rage. "This...Cannot...Be..." He bowed his head. Calm down, or you will feel more than just pain! The growl of Fenrir echoed through his mind, as he cooled down. "There is not much more we can do...Sorrow has come upon me many times before, dealing with the deaths of my brothers and sisters. But this is worse." "What is wrong?" "The city was ransacked the other night, by men in purple robes, as they stole the children of the kingdom!" Fienrir gasped in horror. "The children of the main kingdom of Vad'Idlien---Saradomin prophisized them to be the---" "Liberi Fatali. The Children of Fate." The king's eye's began to fill with tears. "Saradomin blessed those children with a gift...Known only as Lux in Tenebris...The children's gift of Light coming into Darkness. The only source of power that can oppose Twilight...Lunebris." "Saradomin blessed this kingdom and the children within it. The children were the only one's with that power...But thos menaces stole them, so what do they plan to do with them? I don't understand! Won't the children eminate the power of Lunebris?" "No." Fienrir declared. "There is a scripture that speaks of these words... Liberi Fatali, foriuzan hiuyfj Verquizan, Varghuyd vastuin Lunebris. Dusfirtoz cokujher Twilight houdesr Lunebris, guhyni soven justa Vad'Idlien vejk gauwn Zamorak." Fienrir paused. Remembering what it meant, he continued: "It means...The children of fate, resting within Verquizan, will be blessed with Lunebris. But if Twilight crosses Lunebris, the land of Vad'Idlien will fall to Zamorak." Fienrir's heart felt like it had been stabbed with a stake, and his soul be overtaken by shadow. "We cannot...Fight. We must surrender. At least they will let the children go free." King Vad'Idlien dried up his tears. "No. I know how the Zamorakian's work. They want you to do that. The only thoughts that run through their petty minds is to please Zamorak. Zamorak's scripture always reads the one prayer they do before battle: Kill the strong, Kill the weak. Kill the Young, Kill the Old. Even if WE don't, they will all meet the same, untimely end; an eternity of suffering within Twilight." "How do you know of such things?" The king bitterly said. "The memories of the Zamorakians run through my mind...And I must relive them, as if I were that person." Fienrir angrily spat out. "I don't care if you call it a gift or curse, but when a Zamorakian falls to my blade, their memories and souls make me stronger. Their memories trickle through my mind, luckly not enough to drive me insane. Again, call it what you want." "That sounds more of a curse from Zamorak!" The king took up arms. "I am no Zamorak warrior, but I was blessed with this gift by my god, Saradomin. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to sabotage the plans of those blasted Zamorakians." Fienrir angrily left the tgrone room, as the King withdrew his blade. "Fienrir!" He turned back to look at the king. "Please, bring the children back safetly!" Fienrir grinned, leaving the throne room. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Liberi Fatali will not fall into the wrong hands! Fienrir furiously thought to himself. He finally arrived at the Zamorakian's temporary makeshift camp, tents upon tents were set up, enough to fill seven kingdom's alone. Fienrir knew what he had to do; he realized quickly why they picked this as a shelter. Stealthly as a raven in the sky, he ran towards the cave in the horizon.

This is yours, then? I just wanna make sure your konkanprogram (The original writer of the story), since no one can be 100% sure.

Funny. This is Exactly like the story I read on page 9 or 10 on these forums. I think the true authors name was Kingkonk...I'lll check up on that, but I DO know it's the exact title and all.

Nice! I really liked it. There are a couple areas that may need imporvement, though: When it could've been: I bolded the parts from the old to the knew, so you would know what I changed. Anyway, the Introduction was great, can't wait for upcoming chapters!

"Are you sure he can be trusted?" Roald asked Fienrir, gripping the handle of his sword tightly. "There isn't a doubt in my mind." Fienrir watched as Hylean teach Ed a couple of sword stances and defensive maneuvers. The cheers of the crowd were large, as many people saw the exciting spar, other's (such as Fienrir and Roald) overlooked it watching it with great interest. "He is a very skillful man, indeed. Tell me Fienrir, who is the higher power of which he spoke. of?" Fienrir glanced at Roald, an angry look came upon his face, as he spat out: "How did you even know? That was only mentioned around me; not around you nor anyone else." "I have my sources. You forget, in the wars I was a skillfull magician (yet not as great as you) whom knew how to mind read. I may be a warrior now, but magic is still my strongsuit." Fienrir looked back down; Ed was learning really quick, and was swiftly and gracefully landing attacks. Fienrir sighed, and began: "He didn't say were the higher power was, or were it came from. He said he didn't want to get me involved, for he thinks they might overwhealm me. If only he knew...What I was. What I am. He knew I fought in the wars, but he never knew what kind of power was within me. What still is in me. I feel as though I might have to go back to the wars to quell Aragrok's rage." "No, Saradomin relies on you, as he did so long ago." "He may rely on me, and everyone else wants to stop me...Hylean, I pray you will find what I truely am, before it's too late!" Ed parryed another blow, then landed a great attack, nearly knocking Hylean off of his feet. They laughed, and the crowd joined in. "I'm going back to the bar. If Hylean asks were I went...Tell them at the hotel. If they took too long, then tell them I'm here." Fienrir pulled a map out, pointing out a location. "Got it memorized?" (Make up the area. Yay! :thumbsup: \ :D )

A giant dragon popped out of his mailbox out of no were and said "My name is Ah oon!" And Joe Everyman's lawn was burnt to a crisp, then his house was obliterated. luckly he wasn't injured...And Then...

Banned because he banned that person because he banned that person for banning that person, etc. Ban, Ban, Ban!

Chapter 13: The Silver Sky He had awakened, but he didn't know were he was. He stood in the middle of the battlefield, not even close to were he fought the Reaper. Looking around his perimeter, he saw the lifeless bodies of the Zamorakians litered around him. His sword was stabbed into a nearby Zamorakian; it was blood covered, but the blade's sheen was still there. Quickly, he removed the blade from the warrior, as blood trickled from the blade, and blood gushed from the dead man's body. As he searched for his army, from miles upon miles, bodies were freshly litered. He finally realized this war was far from over, as he looked up into the broad, blue sky. Fienrir began to walk towards the horizon of the broken citadel, as he heard cheers of victory and joy, for all of the warriors survived, none being dead. Grinning, he walked up the steep hill in his pace, listening to the speech of Roald: "Praise Saradmoin, dear freinds! We made it through, though it seems, the true warrior, whom fought and killed a deadly entity and killing the army of Zamorak...Is gone---" "Really, Roald? Or did something give you the illusion that I did?" Frightened, the soldiers shifted their view towards Fienrir, whom stood outside of the blow hole of the castle's great wall. A sudden rush of relief pulsed through Roald: "Fienrir! Again, praise Saradomin you are safe! Our prayers have been heard!" "Sounds more like you were trying to give me a Rest in Peace speech." Roald grinned, as Fienrir laughed, and the other warriors joined in on the joyful moment. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Well, the dead are resting, the reaper is gone...The sky is as clear as a diamond. Such peacful words were said today, gentlemen." Fienrir raised his beer glass high in the air, "We kept our promise of helping the dead, and we always will. So I propose a toast to the Zamorakians...May the burn eternally in one of the hottest places any man can step into, Hell!" Laughter came upon the men, as they toasted and drank, preparing themselves for what's to come. Fienrir, however, noticed a twinkling light upon a hill. "Sorry, guys. I have to go...Get rest, all of you, and if I'm not back by day break...May you all journey well to the next kingdom." "Fienrir," Reldo began, "Take this map and mark which kingdom is next." Another person I forgot about. Poor Reldo. Chuckling, he pointed out: "Verquizan, the city of Light." Reldo, studying the spot, slowly wlked away, formuating a path. Fienrir stepped upon the hill. He knew who he was to talk to: Tiresias. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "So we meet again, eh Fienrir?" Tiresias bowed to him, as Fienrir made his way towards him. "Praise the Advent, as he quelled the devious Grim Reaper, and destroyed the army of Zamorak in the night of Twilit hour." "I need to speak to you again..." Fienrir sat on a nearby stone formation. "I know. Let me explain what you must do next---" "No...Not yet." Tiresias looked confounded. "Tell me...I destroyed those Zamorakians in their twilit forms, but now what? I need to know." "I can help you, for you know as much as I do, you must relive those memories in order to gain more power. Listen to what I say, and you shall be back down the hill with your fellow knights drinking again." Laughing, he pointed up to the sky: "You destroyed the Reaper on twilit hour; as the Zamorakians stepped into this, they knew if they were to die, they would perish. None were destoryed by Telythemus' men; no, each and everyone was inflicted with the greater pain by Argarok. But something happened, even I never knew would happen: Fenrir obeyed it's host. Now, he obeys you, as you are the master. He quelled the demon for you, but at the same time, Argarok took control of you and killed the Zamorak warriors, because if his thoughts were only his next reawakening. "So, he began, but Fenrir defended you, and locked him deep within your soul...But more importantly, locked his powers away in the Amulet of Fenrir that is strung around your neck. So if you are to be enraged, the amulet would release the powers of Rage into that Demon and he will make you his "Puppet," if you will. All of this is symbolism to the clear sky that shines a luster of sillver. Symbolism to this land, and symbolism to you. "The symbolism is power engulfed by rage, but then being set free by a hidden courage that rests inside of you. Your pure energy, your power, was engulfed by fury, as you were angered by the Reaper, and Argarok was released. You fought him, defeating him with your hidden courage, fenrir. You spoke to him and wanted him to bind your powers with his, and he was obediant. Argarok attempted to take control, but Fenrir gave it back to you. Now, you stand here, looking at the silver sky, the sky that was created by you." Fienrir looked at the silverly light of the sky, the beauty of it was blinding alone; yet there was an aura that signaled peace within those that were dead, almost as if they were thanking Fienrir. "Tell me, Tiresias. Shall I relive those memories, or not?" "No; it seems as though you already did." Fienrir was confounded by this statement. "Allow me, again. Did you feel pain as you were controlled by Argarok?" Fienrir nodded his head. "Well, Fienrir...The pain alone was the memories, although you thought it may have been Fenrir and Argarok fighting. The pain must have symbolized a terrible happening that envoked the pain. The memories must have flashed---And now, you have the power." Fienrir nodded, as he said: "You do not dissapoint." "Fienrir, m'boy...Good luck." Fienrir got up, a thought struck him: "Thank you for not telling me what I must do next." Tiresias nodded, as he said: "Fienrir, wake up."

Chapter 12: The Reaper "Wake up, dammit!" Fienrir shot awake, nearly knocking over King Syrese, whom was standing next to him. "Thank th sages...He's awake!" The warrior's sighed with relief. They all looked beaten and worn out, as they had to defeat the Zamorakians that went to the front gate. Rising with sword in hand, rage burned as if the fire's of Hell started to slowly cremated his body. Mumbling a few curses and swears, he looked around him. Walls collapsed. Fire raged in many open area's. Rubble of the citadel everywere, some of the walls still crumbling. Even the fields, which were once green, were burned to oblivion. "Why would anyone, even with hearts of darkness, be sinister enough to do this?" He slowly approached the hole in one part of the broken citadel; the scent of flesh quickly tickled his nose, making him sick to the stomach. Relief came upon him, though, when he saw the courageous men of Telythemus still fighting. Although they contained valor, they were still outnumbered. But he knew they wouldn't give up; they want to protect the land that took them so long to build. "What should we do?" King Syrese looked around his men, a face of violence had overtaken it. "These warriors have the advantage, for they have ransacked this citadel, and murdered it's great leader. Valor nor hope no longer lives in this place; only the face of evil. Light has left this place, too; now, twilight and darkness have formed together, and anguish will fall upon the dead souls if we do not drive these sorcerers out. So I say, if we die...IF we die, then we might be able to stand against the reaper of souls, protecting the poor infants and children and Valorous men they vanquished! I also say, if we are to protect the rest of this land, then we must fight to protect it, even if it means being eternally tortured." The king wipped out his two blades, one being a sword made of pure blurite ore, the other being a legendary sword passed down by Saradomin from Genesis of the land, Silverlight. Fienrir looked at his blade, and his left hand twicthed. Rage still burned inside of his soul, and he knew he would have to quell it through battle. He stepped towards the ledge of the massive hill from which the castle stood, raising his sword. "Remember, this isn't just for this one kingdom; it's for Vad'Idlien. If we fall, Vad'Idlien falls, and we become one with Twilight. So remember this: Fight with Valor, and may Saradomin protect you!" The warriors raised their shields and weapons, letting out a battle-cry of feriocety, as the Zamorakians saw them, preparing themselves for a fight. "Archers, string your bows! Wizards, prepare your spells! Devout's, pray for victory!" Fienrir paused, then yelled: "Warriors, obliterate these damn demons!" The Battle-cry was released again, as the soldiers bravely marched into the deadly battle; the archer's strung their bows'; the sorcerers began to take runes out; the devouts prayed with their heart for protection. Everything was as it should be. Except the sky. Fienrir was the only warrior not to leave the hill. Even Syrese left; but Fienrir was looking at the sky. The smogged ridden sky was forming into a black darkness; then forming into a deadly Twilight. It began to form together, and a figure started to descend from the sky. Fienrir ran towards the destination were the figure was descending, making it to the spot just before it touched the ground. Fienrir's eyes grew with fear, as his rage built up even more at the same time. The Grim Reaper. The Reaper was completely cloaked in a red and black robe, his arms and legs were covered, too. As his face was covered in a spectoral hood, generating drarkness so it would shield his face. The Reaper slowly reched for his [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] that rested upon his back. He looked up; he had a gastly breathing patterns. He laughed an evil laugh, chilling Fienrir's bones, but increasing his rage furthermore. "What's this..." He began to speak, "This cannot be...You are still alive, when your body should be impaled or burned, and your soul should be wandering these grand battle fields, but instead, you live. I'm quite suprised. You've outlasted these trained warriors. Pitiful that I must take these souls away; every man, woman, infant...It does not matter. Every one of them will be tortured the same!" He laughed the hideous laugh again. Fienrir clutched his blade, anger pouring onto it. That's right, let your anger be released...Let it be, and I'll show you the true meaning of pain! Fienrir felt a sensation of pain in his body, as a dark aura circled his body. Pain burned Fienrir's body, as he collapsed to the ground. He clutched his sword... The pain ceased. He looked up, and only saw the reaper, but with a Twilit aura around him. "Now, I shall finish you off!" Fienrir recognized the sinister voice. "Argarok!" Fienrir clutched his blade, preparation for battle. "You aren't stupid after all. Now, feel the true meaning of pain!" He held out his hand, as his blade materialized on his right hand, and he clutched his [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] in the other. Then, a single wing tore out of the reapers back. Fienrir grunted: "Being a coward behind a puppet or just fighting me one on one, you would meet the same end, anyway!" "We'll see about that!" Argarok charged in after him, swiftly swinginh his [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] and blade. Fienrir barely dodged the blade, parrying the [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] in a close call, too. Fienrir retailiated with a kick, as Argarok fell back, grunting. Fienrir striked again, jumping in the air, slicong the hood off. Fienrir quacked with terro. Under the hood, a head of a rotten skull, burnt, torn, blood ridden and cracked. The reapers eyes were crazed red, showing Argarok's control over him. "Damn infedel!" Argarok rushed him, doing another double slice. This time, Fienrir doged both slashes and attempted to stab him, Argarok dodging it with ease. Fienrir charged him, at this time, only to get slashed onto the ground, blood pouring out of his mouth. "Damn---" Fienrir spat out blood. "Give up," Argarok exclaimed "Without rage, you cannot win. Rage is the one source of energy that drives a person, and I am your rage! Without me, you are nothing but an insignificant worm!" Argarok jumped next to Fienrir's injured body, holding the [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] to his neck. "Without rage, you are no Advent." "I may not have rage," Fienrir panted heavily "But I do have Fenrir!" Fienrir rose and slashed Argarok. "What!?" Argarok landed on his feet, as he watched Fienrir concentrate. Fenrir, I'm calling your energy! Fuse your strenth with mine, so we may be one! Fienrir's hands started to twitch uncontrollably, as he saw the wolf's eyes concentrating on him, and a rush of energy burst through his body. "No! I cannot let this happen!" Argarok charged in. Fienrir only regained his footing, holding up his blade in a defense against Argarok. Fienrir closed his eyes. Thank-you, Fenrir. He felt an impact hit his blade. He opened his eyes, to see the face of the Reaper, furious and malicious: "No! You shall perish!" He started to slash him, as Fienrir parried each blow thrown with ease. "It is not me that shall perish; it is you and that accursed reaper!" Fienrir slashed the [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation], breaking it in two. With unbelievable speed, he began to slah Argarok, as he was unable to block any of them. The last impact of Fienrir's sword knocked Argarok to the ground. "Time to die!" Fienrir jumped up in the air, driving the blade into the chest of the demon's puppet. "NO!" The cry of the demon shook the battle field, as the red eyes of the reaper's body slowly dissapeared. As Fienrir saw the aura go away, he removed his blade from the chest, and the body of the reaper disintegrated. This isn't over yet! Fienrir felt a sharp pain, as the red aura encircled his body, and the demon reformed within his body. It's over when I say it is! Fienrir felt a jolt of pain again. Huh? What are you? Pitiful demon. You look at the sacred wolf, Fenrir! One last jolt of pain, then a screech within his soul shook his body, and he collapsed. You will perish! One last shock was felt. No! I cannot die...I never will! You may never die, but you are quelled, demon. I place a curse upon you, were you may never come out...Unless rage covers Fienrir's heart once more! Fienrir slowly opened his eyes.

The end of the second night of the festival. Fienrir was carrying Ranguvar on his back as Hylean carried Alexia. As the week-long festival would continue, Fienrir knew he would get a workout; Ranguvar (This is Hylean's sister, correct?) was a very good dancer. Hylean looked worn out, too. He was healing meraculously! "Hylean?" Fienrir quietly asked, so he would not awaken the girls. "Yes?" "That higher power you were talking about...Ordered you to kill me...Well, now that you refuse to, what will they do to you?" "Good question," Hylean sighed "I don't really know the consequences, since I always followed direct orders." "Well," Fienrir glanced at Alexia and Ranguvar "I hope they don't attempt to kill you...Nor the girls. Either way, it would be tradjec. I don't want the girls to be hurt, as I don't want you to be slain by blood thirsty savage men." "Well said. I think I see the inn." "Hylean, just remember, I will always protect you and the girls, until death. You are a great man, who deserves more than friends; I guess that's why Saradomin, or Guthix, or whomever you believe in, blessed you with these girls." They entered the inn, the usual going on inside; drunk men on the bar, but something was very unusual; Ed sat on one of the couches...Sober! "Ed...You are usually drunk by this time of night..." Fienrir tried not to laugh, unsuccsessfully, as he let out a soft chuckle. "Laugh all you want...But you should have seen what I did!" Ed briefly explained what he did for the man. "I never thought I could do that!" "Well, when you put your mind to it, you can basically do anything. Well, Fienrir and I have to put the girls in bed." "See you back at the room, Ed." Fienrir threw the key back at him. "Listen, Fienrir...Thank you. You've enkindled in me what I never thought would be reinkindled within me; Friendship." "What are you talking about?" Fienrir placed Ranguvar onto the bed softly, "Alexia and your sister are always with you." "Yes...But I'm talking of the freindship between others...After seven long years." Seven? Fienrir thought to himself. "Seven years ago...signaled the end of the Twilight war!" "You catch on quick." Hylean chuckled. "I thought I knew you, somehow. How 'bout a beer or ale tomorrow night; we can discuss the past then." "Great!" Hylean grinned. "Well, good-night, Hylean." "Good-night, Fienrir."

DISREGARD!!!

Disregard this, I know why now.

Very, very nice! You are right, they could be anywere, but most people from the land are there. Nice imagination on Aqaun, I'm starting to get interested on what happens next!

Keep up the good work, everyone! I may sound a little stupid, but when you say reference...Well, actually, I don't understand at all. It kinda confuses me, what your trying to say. Are you saying no interaction with your characters, or I shouldn't write anything with your characters in it?...Well, at least answer that. Archimage_a. So far, your story is good...But isn't going along with the actual RPG story. I'm not trying to offend you, but the festival IS IN Varrok, and is crowded for at least a week. But good so far, I like it. Aquan is a cool character! With all of this being said, I'll write my next part of the story when the others decide to join us. Otherwise, I'm working on The_Advent.

Chapter 11: Argarok What luster can the starts hold here? The sky here shoes no boundaries... Fienrir quietly thought this to himself, as the troops rested by a nearby water hole. He was keeping gaurd, awaiting any unwelcome guests that may tread by. He knew none would come, though; Who else would make it past the Twilight gates? I suppose Zamorakian's. Fienrir chuckled, looking at the kingdom that lay in the distnace. He saw the city, lit up, as it shined a goldish aura; he admired the dazzling beauty, an though of what he might do when he initially got there. I really need to speak with the king of Telythemus... "Refusing to sleep, eh Fienrir?" Startled, Fienrir drew his sword and spun around, turning his lantern on as fast as he possibly could, only to see king Syrese, grinning. "What the hell are you doing here?" Fienrir laughed aloud, withdrawing his sword. "I'm have only awakened to see what you were doing!" Right, Fienrir thought to himself, I forgot he came along! "Oh---right. Well, just staring off at the distance, looking at the sky...The usual things I like to do. But I'm really anxious to see what the kingdom beholds before us. Just look at it sparkle." "Look at the sky." Fienrir glanced over to Syrese, as he was wide eyed and jaw dropped, pointing at the up coming red sky. "You know what they say about red sky's at night?" "Red sky at night, sailor's delight?" "No, you idiot! It is a sign of the reaper. It is written in blood in the old scrolls which tell us the anctient past of Runescape." "Oh, right...Verekuzan ashikia ias viuntias corlos juvani solokia, Jushaty fuvak tereture restupar covituan kolostino jortokuc Sihjui duis. Blood will be spilled on this day, the reaper will torture these souls in Twilit ray..." "Smart boy!" Syrese exclaimed happily. "But that can only mean---" The ground violently quacked. "Peculiar..." Syrese looked over at the kingdom's vast shadow. "Damn, the kingdom's being attacked!" Syrese took out his horn, blowing it, immediatley signaling the men to come out. "No..." Fienrir drew his sword and began to run towards the kingdom. "Fienrir, no!" Fienrir refused to listen to Syrese's plea. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Explosions. Fire. Impaled people. Hell. Fienrir ran through the massacred city, as he saw giant rat's feast on the flesh of dead people. Why would anyone do something like this? He drew his blade, preparing for the rough battle. "Please...Help me..." Fienrir saw a nearby man, a crown of thorns rested on his head, as his wrists were jolted to the walls, blood trickling down his head and arms. "Are...You the king?" Fienrir ran to him, tending to his wounds. "Stop...Please...Leave me alone..." Fienrir tugged at the stakes that were impaling his wrists. "Please...Don't make them tighter..." Fienrir knew his life would no longer last. He got up, leaving the suffering king behind. "NO!" The blood curtling screem ran through Fienrir's ears, as he saw a dagger in the old man's heart. Frightned, Fienrir ran to the very edge of a hole in the kingdom walls, only to see millions of massacred bodies of men, women, and children. Babies were shown no mercy, either; each infant was impaled on a stake. Fienrir glanced at the other sides of the battlefields, only to see the Zamorak warriors finishing the lives of some of the fighting men. Rage started to consume Fienrir, as his hands twitched, Fienrir fell into the confines of memory... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "The ordeal is almost over!" He happily said to the men in purple robes. "We now need to kill those poor little remnents over there, and we'll be able to join!" He happily exclaimed. He drew his dagger, awaiting the young women, both trying to keep warm on the cold winter's day. "One...Two...Three!" * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "NO!" Fienrir awoke from his trance, panting and spitting blood at the ground. His hands were still twitching, and he was still consumed with rage. "What's...Happening to me?" His hands stared to shake uncontrolably. Visions of death ran through his mind. He panted harder, trying to stop his rage... Your under...My control now. Fienrir got up, blade in hand. As your true soul lingers in darkness...I will take control... No you won't, Argarok! "What's the use of fighting back?" Argarok said. Fienrir shuffled around, looking for the voice. "You...You are the entity Tiresias spoke of! Argarok..." Fienrir swung his sword aroung, hoping to hit something, "I will kill you!" "You think a man can face a demon?" Fienrir stopped slahing. What? he thought. "That's right, and if you really want to take me on..." The darkness in his mind dissipated, and he now stood in a hall of Granite, flames running along the walls. In front of Fienrir, a demon with one wing stood. The wing was burnt, but it was gargantuan, as the other was never there. His appearence was hideous; his left half of his face was burnt, the other was red. Long, black hair ran down his waist, hiding a curved katana blade and three daggers. "Argarok...You will perish under my blade!" "I don't think so...Because here, I make the rules. I make the structure anything i want." He snapped his fingers, automatically burning the granite into oblivion, bringing them to the battlefield. "In here...I'm a God." Argarok melted away into the ground, as Fienrir chraged him, missing completely. Argarok didn't. Fienrir keeping a look out for the demon, was stabbed behind his back, and the demon flung him off of his sword. "Had enough?" The demon held out his katana. "I'm just getting started!" Fienrir grabbed his sword off of the ground, and the demon effortlessly parried his attacks. As did Fienrir, and the demon raised his hand. "Fuosj-" "No you don't!" Fienrir threw his blade at the demon, and hit him in the chest. Fienrir charged, seeing the moment to finish him, and drove the blade deeper into his chest. "This...Isn't over! I'll...Kill you later!" The demon screamed, flames engulfed his body in an easy escape. Fienrir collapsed.

Fienrir danced with the beautful young woman. It was late, but everyone enjoyed themselves, releasing their pain and misery by dance. Fienrir thought the girl was unbelievabal at dancing, very graceful and rough...Reminded him of the man he battled not long ago. But he didn't care; he was dancing, having the time of his life, drinking. What could go wrong? "I want you to meet my brother! You would get along great!" Fienrir smiled, only having enough to say: "Okay!" To his suprise, she gave him a kiss, and she grabbed his hands and tugged him along back to the small bar. "You've been staying here?" Fienrir exclaimed. "Of course! We have to have some place to stay when there's a week long festival, silly!" Fienrir could tell she fell in love with him; he felt the same about her. He didn't want to get too serious, though. She loved him, but would he love her? Would he stop? "Wait here." She ran upstairs, while the young Edward slowly walked towards him. He's hammered! Either that, or a hangover! Fienrir thought, chuckling quietly. "Damn...I'm really sick..." "Did you get us a ro-" She came down stairs, and he saw him. The assassin. "What? That's your brother?!" "You know him?" She turned to her brother. He made no response. "Ed, come behind me." Fienrir jerked Ed behind his back, drwaing his sword out. "What! No please!" The girl began to cry. "No, sis! I got to do this!" He tried to tug his dagger out, but she stopped him. Fienrir withdrew his sword. "She's right. I cannot fight you...Your sister is beautiful, and she is right. If I kill you, then I am no better than the barbarians..." His sister came over and hugged him. Fienrir looked up: "Let's start over." He held out his hand.

:lol: I'm sorry about that, Xewleer. Well, you have to remember the fight of Edge, when the dome fell, and Sikie and Cell stopped Fienrir from proceding to the battle. He fought Sikie that night (Chapter 7: Pain and Vengeance) and destroyed his regular form. That night, he also killed Cell's regular form. Then, before they entered the gates, Sikie's "Twilit" form nearly killed Fienrir, but Reldo saved him (Chapter 8: Unfufilled Memories). Before Fienrir entered the gates, he let all of his men go, but he knew he had to face Cell, so he stayed and battled Cell's "Twilit" form. Saradmoin, in the chapter, said that he no longer needed dragon armor, because he was powerful enough, and no longer needed his Dragon sword, because his "Advent Form" is at full strenth, and gives him a godly sword. The rings were explained in chapter 9...Once he destroys a Zamorakian, there memories and souls are manifested into Fienrir's rings (By the way, Fienrir is pronounced like this: [Fayn Rear]) and he gains power from the Zamorakian's soul and memories. He also has to relive the memories (Explained in next chapters!) Hope this helps! :thumbsup:

Thanks, Zipper! Actually, the story will keep going for a little while, but it's almost done. If you really want to know the kill count, it was an entire army...So over 300. \

Chapter 10: Fienrir's Odyssey "Are you ready, Fienrir?" "You better believe it, Roald!" Fienrir shouted back to Roald. Both of them were standing on the opposite ends of the gates, their hands held out and ready to open them. Roald was already beggining to pray; Fienrir prepared his spell. After a minute, Fienrir began to recite the anctient, zamorakian spell: Sureyse hivityian hontusyctua viticus kurystimo luhiro nruti dinomeo joven. Nostru gontur treve sia vectum tridduum kajieaz zuritle gohistafar lokcyn sidan kindla Entrana; nositcus Laviticas; sontreu Vad'Idlien; Vuyste hjuinn cvves des nostrue lazku! A quake. Roald kept praying, and the doors slowly opened, revealing a grassy field of golden flowers and great waters. The crowd cheered. "Certainly a strange transition...From darkness to prosperity, no? I guess that's why they call it the golden lands!" Roald happily declared. Fienrir gestured everyone to go, but waited to go last. "You certainly are a handful." Fienrir slowly lifted his head. His intuition was correct: Cell. "What the Hell do you want?" Fienrir solemnly declared. "I'm back...For vengeance. You've taken Sikie's soul, and I curse you and wish you eternal damnation; but the Twilight has granted me strenth, so it is time for you to dissapear!" Fienrir chuckled, saying in the process: "You know, patience is a virtue. Yet, I'm impatient for the Twilight to take you away, too." "What, so you can gain my power? That isn't going to happen!" He shouted, swiftly coming behind Fienrir and stabbing him in the chest, then kicking him off of his knife. "What the---How did you...Damn Twilight." He reached for his sword, but it wasn't in it's regular sheathe. My dragon sword! You've no need for it. Nor your armor; it is useless, because your power is infinite, Advent. Saradomin? He thought, watching his armor sink into him. "Well, well. That's unfortunate." He took out a blade, stained with blood, then charged him. Fienrir could only hold his hand in an attempt to catch the blade... He heard a clash of two swords meeting. He could feel the large quacks of Cell, as he could feel his blade crack. "What? Were did that blade come from?" Fienrir opened his eyes, as he held a blade, no more than siz feet in length and one foot in width, shining brilliantly like the pure ore's of the rare platnium. For this is what the blade was made of: Platnium. Fienrir admired the blade's amazing luster, and re-prepared himself for a fight. He also saw he wasn't wearing his regular armor, but a leather jacket, and black pants, but he knew he would be swifter and stronger than ever! "Looks like this is a fair fight." Fienrir declared. "No! I will still annhiallate you!" He drew his rune battleaxe, and charged in. Fienrir parryed the slash with no trouble, striking Cell down in an instant. Cell bled, his chest cut open with a large scar of defeat. "No...No..." Cell melted away, his soul slowly coming into the rings that Fienrir held. You see, you need no armor. Nor do you need a blade like that dragon. You now hold before you a Platnium blade, stronger than dragon or any other metal. If you are strong enough to wield that blade, as you just did, you are the Advent. Fienrir listened to the voice of Saradomin, putting the blade into a sheathe that rested on his back. Taking a last look at the wastelands, he walked into the gates, as thy slowly closed behind him. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Fienrir couldn't believe it. The lands were as they were told in folklore; fields and fields of flowers colored of gold, and rivers of pure water. His men awaited him at the entrance; all of them saw that he didn't have any dragon armor, but he showed them the sword and what happened. All of them sighed with awe. "Fienrir, what is the first of our destinations?" "Our first? Well, Telythemus, the kingdom of warriors, We'll freshen up there, and we'll plan there with the king, we can conference with him. After, we fight." The warriors all shouted a fierce cry, and started to march towards the kingdom in the horizon. Fienrir thought's racing through his mind, could only think of his Odyssey he had with Saradomin. "To Telythemus!"

Panting after the long battle, Fienrir glanced at Ed. "It seems your parents haven't taught you to noot follow strangers! Idiocy like that shall get you killed!" Ed bowed his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Fienrir." "C'mon, you must get back to that ceremony. You go. That man isn't the only one with greater magics. Teleport to Falador!" With a flash, he was beggining to dissapate---But was quickly reformed. Blast, he must have used a block magic spell! Sneaky man...Thus he climbed out of the sewers. The cheers of the crowd were bigger than ever. Many of the younger women went to see him, Fienrir trying to push his way through. He never actually liked being an idol, nor a hero. He was also worried of the man that he knocked to the ground. he broke through the crowd of grls, taking refuge in a nearby bar. "Tell me," the bartender asked "Are you Fienrir?"

Whenever a Zamorakian warrior is killed once, Twilight contains that soul and makes it strong. But when the Zamorakian is killed again, the soul lingers until the Advent is enabled to take the soul into the rings. Basically, one ring will contain souls and the other will contain memories of the Zamorakian's, making Fienrir stronger. That's why he remembered all of those memories. Thank you for saying that. I re-edited the story, so you can re-read it if you want.

Nice reference, I like that story because I wrote it, :lol: . Thanks, it goes good with the story. Use any other refernces if you want. "Roald, you had to get the crowd going, huh?" "I can' help it. Everyone loves you. Now get up there!" Roald pushed him so he was visible, the roars of the crowd quacking the ground. "Hello, all! I also welcome back the soldiers, returning from the war! and---" Fienrir stopped, looking down at the gaurds shoving their way through the crowd at a small figure. Ed?! "Hey, stop!" Fienrir jumped. "Fienrir!" Roald held a hand out for him, but Fienrir didn't even acknowledge it. The crowd started to scream, as Fienrir gracefully landed on the ground (Although leaving a giant pothole in the ground). He started to shove his way through the crowd, most of the girls sighing with excitment, some of the men trying to stop the gaurds. "OW!" Fienrir slammed into a cloaked boy, knocking him to the ground. "What's your problem?" "I'm sorry!" Fienrir pulled the boy up. "But I can't talk, those gaurds are after my pupil!"