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About Xewleer

  • Rank
    Varrock Guard

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  • Location
    anywhere but reality
  • Interests
    engineering, writing

RuneScape Information

  1. One lone man walked the desolate streets. It was night, so no one walked, for fear of the bandits that roamed everywhere in the evening. Bandits and thugs would... could not pose even a single threat to this man. He climbed over the palace wall and entered it's main building. He cold hear the snoring of it's guardians, and an old friend he did not care to waken. He stepped through the door and into an old familiar room. He sniffed deeply and smelled the literature, both good and bad. It was something that made him comfortable, but he could not stay. Life went on, and he had to abandon the things of his youth. The world, and those who raised him had sheltered him. They had given him little freedoms, and he thanked those for each one. But he had felt the pull of life, and he had moved on. He had to move on. He thumbed through a few new tomes, but they could not hold his attention. He finally put them all down and pulled out a piece of paper and one of the many pens he kept on himself. He sat down in a chair and thought. Then he wrote. Dear Friends, I have been here a long time. Years I spent here. I was your guard, your friend, your critic. I helped the best of you and I laughed at the worst of you. I was known as Xewleer. And I wrote more here than I have ever written for an English class. I remember the unnamed lovers, my first true work. I remember Kun, the first of my worlds. I remember the rpgs, Fenrir and so much more. I remember worlds and loves and wars. I remember fun and laughs and everything. Unworthy bumps and the revival of epics. I loved it all. So my friends, Archimage. Ratchet. Sephiroth King, Unoalexi, Lady Chey, Blue Jay. If I forgot you, I'm sorry. But you may never see me again. I left too many stories unfinished, and I have begun more. You may never see them, except in the future. The land of Arcadia, Cameo, Jaedinar and so many more will be written about. Will the world know? Maybe... maybe. Look out for it, someday, you may find a letter in the box. Come, and see! I leave now. May I never come back. Life has too many things for me to remember a past that will never dominate my time like this did. Too too many good things. May you see with unclouded eyes what life truly is. Xewleer. Former guard. Unworthy soldier of the Cross. Writer and Engineer. The man put a paper weight on his goodbye note. Then turned and kicked out a window. He jumped out as the guards that replaced him caught sight. He rushed across the field towards the gates. The guards rushed to close them but he jumped through just in time. He made for the north exit. Not for the lawless wilderness, but for beyond. He headed west after he left the city. He ran forever. Past Falador, past Camelot, past the elves and to the sea. There, a boat waited for him. No one was on it but himself. Punting it continuously west he eventually found what he was looking for, but that was the far, far future. In between there were many storms, pirates, and whirlpools. There were islands, paradises and maybe, before the end, he wasn't the only one on his boat, a female, some young ones... He arrived at the docks. His mind chaotic with the future, a rare glimpse that he sometimes was given. Something that gave him hope and made him strong. He stood, on the solid dock, and roared out his wordless challenge to that Sea of Life. It understood and storms raged before him. Easy? Life is never easy. Life will never be easy. He laughed. He jumped in his boat. He hadn't looked back. Though he would after awhile, he would not be human if he did not. But not for long, and only until he forgot why he ever looked back at Runescape. He was pulled out to sea once more. Life did not like him trying to go back to the comfortable past. It gave the future, and present, bad taste.
  2. I'm sorry if I love culture... mmmm... La Mort de Arthur... by Thomas More. mmmm gotta read that again sometime, you should too.
  3. nothing substantial? Oh well. It didn't really tickle me.
  4. What... so you are a senior now? (year 12) Anyway... An AMUSING divERSion. WORth Wasting THREE minutes on. I MUST be oFF. Something about laying WASTE to some peasant VILLages!!
  5. fun, I enjoyed it. (A little >) Video wasn't bad either. I'll be back from the Mp3... (Heh heh heh... Xewleer waltzes down the aisles of his shadier laptop apps and picks one up. Soon... the music from the youtube video SHALL BE MINE!!! GRAH! HA HA HA HA! *cough cough* *Wheeeeze...* HOOooo better lay off the evil laughing for a while... not good for voice box!)
  6. Side story: Black Master's dreams. The Black Master sat at a table. It was plain, but it was designed as a table for chess. The chess board was engraved onto the top, with a placeholder for each piece at the top and bottom. There was no time-piece, but each move was made at each turn. He was losing, poorly. Tidal, King of Nations, Supreme Elf, Emperor of the Three Continents and Supreme Warlord of Armies, giving his full title. He was tall and beautiful, all full-blood elves are. His eyes were graceful, but the Black Master could see through them. He could never make eye contact, as each time he looked, he could feel the pain of the people who had died at Tidal's hand. The Elf sat a full head taller than the Black Master; he was even taller standing. The Black Master knew that both of them were not really there. It had taken him the first hundred nights to realize this, and stop trying to kill Tidal. Now, he just played chess and lost, every night, for 800 years. He had never one a single chess game. But he was winning the overall game. Tidal was arrogantly pursuing him, holding onto a dream of dominance. The Black Master was not pursuing dominance, and that made every difference. "So... Checkmate. I once heard an exceedingly incompetent officer say this: 'your house of cards is falling like a stack dominoes... Checkmate' I had him killed, of course. You ever have those problems?" "I never let people that stupid even get close to that kind of position, much less even be anything other than a town guard." He reset his pieces. "I believe we usually play two games. Again?" "Again. Again. Again! You never get tired of this! You haven't cracked in seven hundred years! WHY DO YOU THINK YOU CAN WIN?!" Tidal was actually angry. The recent military campaign losses must be bothering him. Soon, he would only rule over his homeland. "Because our games of chess do not matter. I know every strategy you pull. All three hundred. I'll never win, though, because, in the end, and somehow, you will pull off whatever counter to my counter, whatever strategy to my strategy, and beat me again. So I hone my skills and observe you. Why do you want me here? Same reason... but you have all the skills? No... but an immortal Elf knows more than a human... that's for sure." Tidal stared at him in quiet surprise. THIS was new... but not really. He realized he expected this. That this was coming. That maybe, just maybe, he had underestimated the Black Master. No! No he had NOT!! The Black Master was human... no matter whose half-elf blood he drank. The Black Master could DIE. And he would. Then his empire will crumble and he, Tidal, King of Nations, would take control again. Just like every other time. "Okay. Then let us play another round." He said, measured and calm. He knew how the Black Master acted, as well as what he could do. No surprises really. He would win, nothing to even remotely panic. Life had an end for everyone, except Vampires, and when that end came for the Black Master... He hoped he would be their to gloat. Fifteen moves in, the Black Master moved the King, a piece he had never moved like that before. Tidal decided to ask him why. "Because, when the grand strategy finally manifests itself. The King must not be afraid to move, when the King moves, his men will follow." "You haven't left your castle in a hundred years! Not since I nearly killed you, again." "Depends on who's moving the piece! The turn is yours..." Woohoo! I introduced Tidal, King of Nations!! He'll soon be really evil... I'm thinking... a little mutilation... some torture of children... in front of their parents... vice-versa... kick a couple puppies... you know. General evil stuff. Please understand, this guy is FREAKING EVIL (in all caps!) :D
  7. [picture of a cute rat] Don't let this rat fool you. He is more than he seems... He is the master of seven hells and the tormentor souls. He feasts on the flesh of the damned. The Demons scream his name! What is his cursed name you ask? What name you fear to scream in the dark? What name has been described as being so horrible that it flays the mind of the hearers? They call him... RODNEY!!! NIBBLER OF WORLDS!!!!! done just for a bit of fun.
  8. I'm not back... so much as I wasted time to post this. Not a bad chapter though. You can begin to see into Dracon's character.
  9. I'm so glad there is a lot of activity here! It makes me happy! I'm really busy, so I've not had a lot of time for anything fun. (only play videogames on the weekends now) MST is a really hard college. But I'll pass! Yes!
  10. I've been having account trouble. Sorry all, it seems the password I keep putting in is not working... losing work... ugh... Chapter 6 The large cell was white and padded, it was marked "Do not disturb. Room inhabitants are level 5+ danger criminals. They kill people." The so called dangerous inhabitants were strapped to the walls, completely incapable of movement. They could talk, except that Troy and Alex, who were muzzled. Lucrecia hung limply. She was classified as a level 5+ criminal just be her association with her brother?!? 'Not fair at all.' She mumbled to herself a little. Dracon was placed between Troy and Christina, with Lucrecia directly across from him. She looked kind of lifeless strapped against a wall. He found himself fascinated. He eventually tore his eyes away. Christina's body tensed, she was waiting for him to talk to her. "Christina, how are things? I haven't seen you in a long time." He felt he could talk without secreting his words. Troy would be the only other one who could hear him, and he was fast asleep, mumbling about a past battle. "Pretty good. Well, except for the recent events... my loyal dog was captured by the Black Master's troops. I joined the rebels to free him, if you don't mind." "Course not! But you could have asked me, you know I'd never let him rot in jail. I just didn't hear about it." "Lucky I don't suffer from parental abandonment. It happened yesterday, then I was recruited by Alex during my homicidal rage. You know how it gets... your best friend gets captured, and maybe tortured... one things leads to another and one ale tips you over the edge and HEY!! You're wanted for genocide." "I guess I'm lucky I don't have any reason to try to kill you. But enough with the jabs. You know I serve a master, and he needs me. Soon his plans will reach their climax. I want to be by his side. You are always welcome to join us, I'll protect you." "Sorry. You chose security, wealth and stagnation. I chose freedom, travel and being a little strapped for cash. The plan is stupid, but I am glad you aren't going down with Roland." She smiled encouraging at him. "You are always welcome to travel the world with me." "I wrote the book on traveling. Well, at least let me free Duncan, stay with me until then..." "Yeah... Fine" "Fifty years... you're what, 750, 700?" "800. You were 200 years old. She was eighteen. Disturbing, but you looked good." "Not so bad yourself, bet all the guys hit on you. But remember... I must approve all future heir makers before you decide to produce some kind of progeny." "Father... sorry." She turned away from him. She didn't like to call him that. They were centuries old, they shouldn't have to talk like that to each other. He turned away. The deepest past was painful to them both. -In another part of the maze-like prison- Captain Tiber, the man who had captured the rebels, was extremely scared, like, completely lose control of his bowels scared. In the numerous pockets of the half-elf was a symbol of a Prime Servant of the Black Master, which, according to recent findings, ranked the same as generals, while he was concerned. "How how how screwed am I? Really really really screwed! Snap SNap SNA~a~A~ap!! Any suggestions?" No one said anything, they secretly wanted him to get busted, in fact, several of his lieutenants were compiling a very damning dossier in their spare time. "After I change my pants I'll talk to that Servant." He walked bow-legged out of the room. -cell block 1138, interrogation room L1- Dracon sat in front of a desk. Darkness did not bother him so much as the man in front of him was thoroughly evil and smelly. He wished he could kill him, but the chair he was tied to was bolted to the floor. "I I I want to know what your game is! Rebellion is a capital crime and a Servant is MOST MOST MOST harshly punished... I believe it has something to do with alternating between boiling and half-frozen water... until your skin peels off." Dracon smiled. This guy would be easier to play than a fifty cent kazoo. "Menacing... but there is a second layer to this. Sure, I'm participating in rebellion, but what say the only real fighting force capable of killing these rebels are in Lord Black Master's castle, delivering them straight to the only properly made prison in 500 miles of here. No offense to your own, but the only reason they haven't escaped yet is either their asleep, or, waiting for the time it would bring the most amusement." "Well Well Well then, what proof do you have? This is a weighty business after all, and as long as your rebel friends don't suspect your identity it's a win-win for you, no matter what happens. Fortunately, your symbol checks out. What about the rebels? Can Can Can I kill them now?" "No! You don't have them all, and I don't know all their allies. What if they have Vampire Lord support? Or maybe Tidal sent some of them? If you kill them, I'll lose reward for delivering fewer rebels!" Dracon stared Tiber in the eye. "The more enemies taken out the less enemies my comrades will have to fight tomorrow." Dracon could tell Tiber was now convinced. What he had said was a little known password. "Now, to prevent any suspicion from reaching me, you will send me back to the cell and announce that you will kill us all, but their is one more chance for salvation... if the next person talks. Choose the sleepy guy. He was right next to me. Interrogate him then send him back. He won't talk to you, however, don't use his sister as a threat. "Meanwhile, I will have stolen that small penknife in your back pocket. you will make sure guards are wary , but set it up so that the weapons we own are in a nearby room. Lastly, if you value your life... stay out of our way." Tiber swallowed, he supposed himself to have no choice but to obey. Side story: Black Master The Black Master was bored. No heroes had come far enough into his castle to give a challenge before dying. Boring boring BOOOORING!!! The Black widow was out seducing some poor sap of a warlord (he didn't care which) and the Captain had politely asked him to stay out of the way of the renovations. Only one thing to do! He slouched and slid off his throne. He ate a snack then moved on to the science lounge. A state of the art laboratory with everything a mad scientist could need, every compound known to science and alchemy, and all the guinea pigs (human, animal, mutant) that he could use. "They said I was mad! But I'll show them! I'll show them who's REALLY mad!" This was Mad Molotov. Mad scientist extraordinaire. He had more degrees than the local colleges had to offer and a few that don't quite exist yet. Some people said that he was just pretending to be mad, but really, he was completely and utterly out of his mind, a few screws loose and whatever comparisons to insanity you care to mention. "So..." The Black Master began, looking at the shivering animals who knew that they would not live out the week. "What do you have this time? I hope it's not another [bleep]ed hamster ball." "Fool! That was a brilliant idea!" "They couldn't move it at all! The enemy just picked them up, tossed them into a catapult and launched them at our own front lines." "Touche... but bow in wonder of my magical mayhem mangler!" "I told you NO MORE GIANT [bleep]ED HAMSTER BALLS!!!" "But this one actually works! Look! He's moving around!" "I'm considering slashing your budget, and some of your genetic monstrosities, if this doesn't work." "Don't worry! Don't worry! I may be a LeeTTle mad, but I'm not crazy..." "You're insane. I constantly live in fear of you blowing us all to kingdom come..." "Alright. Alright! ... Goodbye! Fool! I will destroy him in his fragrance! No... Arrogance is so much better... yesss... I will you this new invention... Dah!! Where'd you come from!?!?" "I never left the room!" "...No hard feelings?" "Whatever makes you happy, at least I know where you stand." The Black Master walked out of the room and back to his throne room. He picked up a roster of enemies and allies, as well as a land map dividing all empires into their respected areas. So close to the fruition of his plan. Dracon was a trouble magnet. Fate always hung heavy on him. He would naturally gather people around him, either rebels or allies. He could never have enough allies... but rebels. All it takes is one strong enough... then, Tidal would never have anything more than the 100 sq. mi. elvish homeland again.
  11. MMMMM... suicidal thoughts... the true measure of a weakling. I am disgusted by suicide. You are so weak, that you think dying will fix anything? Pathetic. Not that I'm too bothered. Fists. We've had some conversations back when I played Runescape. No matter how bad it seems, everything gets better eventually.
  12. Alright! A continuation of the Guards short interludes I was writing. Basically, I'm describing the guards of the Black Master, as well as his security measures... Old Master, as he revealed he had a legal name change to that moniker, continued the tour, until they were in front of the infirmary. Muffled screams started up suddenly, then, surprisingly ceased. They opened the door... A man was politely bowing to the nurse, an old woman around Old Master's age. He had a gigantic cast on the left half of his body. "And don't stand in the rain, shower, or in the path of catapults... You'll be fine, here's a waiver. See you in a week!" The man hobbled out, surprisingly, he did not limp so much to pain as the cast was removing much of his mobility. "And here's my lovely wife! The head nurse of the western infirmary! My! Doesn't she look young for eighty! Ha ha ha!" Old Master suddenly felt a [puncture] in his skin. "Argk! What did you just inject into me!" She smiled, and pushed out a little of the liquid in her syringe. "Why the antidote to the poison I put in your waffles, dear. I was a little worried when you didn't drink your tea, which has the usual anti poison... but oh well, I was sure you could take it..." Old Master, now looking not a little bit scared waved the group onward. The final few people heard her mutter under her breath: "That'll teach him for poking fun at me." Three bathroom breaks for Old Master later, they arrived at the PARAPETS!!! "These are the PARAPETS!!!" "Why did you say it all capitalized like that? Isn't just parapets? Or, THE parapets?" "Kid. Curiosity killed the cat... and it looks like your depressed. Cut the emo crap or make good on your suicide promises." Old Master was clearly delusional from whatever his wife injected into him. "But... I'm not... Sir... that's completely wrong... I'm not emo or even considering suicide!" "Really? It looks like someone's developing SUICIDAL TENDENCIES!" He dropped kick the student over the PARAPETS(!!!) and into the moat. "I think you killed your best student." Said the trainee who had been pistol whipped earlier. "Hey... does that mean I'm still last?" "Yes. But it looks better cause there are fewer of you." A guard ran up. "What was the disturbance? Did an enemy scale the wall?" The group turned away and walked off, leaving the soldier to discover the fallen student. "I think that's enough for today. We'll start practice for an hour or two then go into quiet contemplation on what it means to be competent." The old man folded his hands. "Sir, but you never told us the story behind the PARAPETS (!!!)." Said the last student. "Son. Are you emo?" The student decided to play it safe. "Yes sir... sorry sir." "Now then... make good on your suicide promises... or cut the emo crap." The delusional man drew out a knife from his sleeve. "Cutting the emo crap, Sir." "Good boy... you'll go far..." Gags... all of it... but I regret nothing!!!
  13. Heh heh.... Alex... is he really dumb, or is he just a guy with a huge amount of obfuscating stupidity. Edit:I just had more trouble spelling stupidity (Dangit!) than I did obfuscating.
  14. Chapter 5, continued. He was met by a guard. "Hey! Money for passing the gate unharmed!" He said, leering into Dracon's eyes. "Three... probly want sum medical attention for your friend there... Fifteen Villeins" He looked down at Lucrecia, who stared him straight in the eyes. "And a kiss from the pretty one!" Troy began to wake up. "How about a kiss of death!!" He cried, leaping from Dracon's back. He flew through the air, around the dimwitted guard and kicked him in the back of the head. "You don't screw with my sister!" He yelled before collapsing. Dracon picked him up while the other guards were still speechless. Lucrecia was in a state of semi-funk, it wasn't everyday you see your baby brother leap ten feet in the air and drop kick someone. "Poor guy... still delirious... Let's go, Lucrecia!" He grabbed her hand and ran off into the streets, as the guards ran after them, shouting. Eventually, they out ran them in fine style. "You awake, Troy?" A muffled curse answered him. "Muscles still wasted then... Heh heh... you are soooo in my power still... Come on Lucrecia! Let us run together, off the beaten path, where we will bound over rocks and boulders and down a waterfall!" Lucrecia blushed, then scolded him for taking advantage of her brother's sickness. "I don't have to put up with this, you know!" Troy groaned as he slid off Dracon's back and walked down the ally. He counted the doors until he reached the entrance of a bar. He knocked loudly. Having no answer, he roughly kicked the door down. Walking in, he was followed by a surprised pair of companions. The bartender didn't say anything, and a man in a carpenter's uniform quietly repaired the door. "Three waters. No alcohol, my body might not be able to take it." He breathed heavily. This excursion was causing him to sweat heavily. His body had barely healed, much less regained it's energy from running around in the volcano dungeon. Lucrecia checked his pulse, very heavy, but slow. "You shouldn't push yourself like this... it really isn't healthy. I mean, I really don't like seeing by human younger brother destroy himself through pushing." He didn't respond to that. The next character came in, kicking the door down as well. "MY! Them monkeys our shur making messes of them jocuzis!" The unusual character, who wore thick clothes, so it was impossible to tell whether male or female. It was completely covered in bandages, scarves and afghans of varying natures and colors, even the eyes were covered, though it did not seem blind. "The moon recently called a moot! WOOT! I killed an kingcrab... delish!" "Alex... shut up... I don't want to deal with your foolery." Troy glared out of half closed eyes. Dracon and Lucrecia had moved away. Obviously, some kind of meeting was going to happen, and they didn't want to get involved. "Alex... isn't that a boy's name? Couldn't tell otherwise." Dracon casually said to Lucrecia, he had hoped that Troy couldn't hear, but Troy always has an ear cocked towards Dracon. "Alex is how he introduced himself to us. Alex could stand for Alexandra or Alexander. Do not interfere with the people hear, they will kill you." "Opening operah ought olways operation ostentatiously!!!" "SHUT UP!" "Monkeys screaming curses lick your body like a popsicle!" "Eat shoe!" Troy leaped up and tried to kick Alex in the chest. "Drink popcorn!" Alex dodged and brought out a dagger from the voluminous folds of his clothes. "Now now! Gentleman and... whatever you are... stop this at once! <3" Said an incredibly cheery voice. Lucrecia jumped with surprise, but Dracon had noticed her standing next to them, hidden in shadows. A half-elf released whatever camouflage she was using and joined them. She had a stern, but cheerful look on her face, she didn't look very laid back though. Once they had calmed down, "Alright I'll stop." "Wild hippos jigging mozart!", she turned to Lucrecia and Dracon. "You must be Lucrecia, and I already know you! You're...! <3" Still getting that strange cheery note in, she was interrupted by Dracon. "I'm known as Douglas." He said, deadpan expression set in his face. "Nice to meet you...?" "Christina! Douglas." She paused for a moment, then a radiant smile lit her face. "<3" Lucrecia, who had been worrying over Troy, decided to forget about it and enjoy the mood. "Know anyone here? Mr. Thousand years? Or perhaps your name is a dead give away, Douglas?" She said, with a smile. Douglas was old, obviously he had to have changed his name several times! "Perhaps you came here to look for a friend?" "I came here because it seemed, at the time, that Troy needed medical assistance... BUT HE'S FINE NOW, ISN'T HE?!?!?" He threw a cup at Troy's head, which rebounded with a dull clonk. Troy was too busy arguing with Alex again to notice. The door was kicked in another time, this time, by a man in military dress. He was not in the least intimidating, though. "My My My, I was following a rebel... and what do I find, a cache of rebels? Isn't this my lucky day?" He said through a smiling, barely open mouth. "Please please please come quietly, I don't want to destroy this whole neighborhood!" He was grinning properly, a fine slasher smile. "Cause Cause Cause I've given orders to my men... kill everyone in the vicinity should I not walk out with you. You You You know what? They They They will do it!" He motioned and police warriors started to file in. "Guys... I think the best thing right now is to trust Dr...ouglas. <3" Christina said, without hesitation. Troy was the only one surprised. He spasmed for a moment or two, but he calmed down and let himself be taken away, grumbling about killing them all. "Viva killjoy penguins popsicling meth!" "Shut up!" "Stop him! No rebels are to die until the public execution!"
  15. I am writing something, but I'm not happy with it. I'm going to write something else, then come back to this. Refreshing yourself is an excellent writing technique.
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