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The Mighty Fall - June 2nd


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#81
Saradomin_Mage
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Saradomin_Mage

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Original Bandosian Memories written by Mod John A if anyone is interested. Rewritten by Mod Jack into the canon version now in-game.

Memory 1

The young prince pushes the soldiers forward and they lock blades. Wooden men stand loyally by as their comrades fall, rank after rank of Kalrassian soldiers slaughtered by the Zorog phalanx. But the general was wise to sacrifice his vanguard, for it bought time for his cavalry move to the Zorog army’s flanks. The warbeasts charge, and with a sweep of the prince’s arm the Zorog army is scattered. A great victory!

He lines up the surviving Zorog soldiers. He lets them beg for mercy from their conqueror – but there is only one punishment for those who oppose the mighty Bandos! He takes a stone and smashes it down on the Zorog soldiers’ heads, one by one. Splinters fly across the room as they crack beneath his hand. Bandos laughs.

From another room hears his mother grumbling. He ignores her. They’re his toys and he can smash them if he wants to.

Memory 2

Bandos makes his first appearance as king not in the luxurious robes of court, but in armour polished to a shine. His people throng the square, warriors at the front, lesser people squeezed at the back.

“I wept for my father when we laid him in the tomb!” He feels a thrill as his voice echoes back from the square’s walls. “I wept, because a tomb of gold is a poor tribute for a Kalrassian warrior-king.

“My father was a conqueror – and I will honour him with conquest! The screams of the tribes we slaughter will ring like music in his tomb, and nations that have yet to hear our name will learn to whisper it with dread!”

Memory 3

The young king shouts an order, and the soldiers charge. Battle-weary veterans press on as their comrades fall, a wave of flesh breaking against the swords of the Zorog Imperial Guard. The Zorog Emperor has held his best men in reserve for this last stand, and the Kalrassians, worn down from their battles on the Zorog plain, soon lie as corpses atop corpses in the pass.

Smiling in anticipation from his hill overlooking the battle, Bandos waits until half his men lie bleeding in the dust, and then sounds the retreat. The Imperial Guards cheer and rush forward in pursuit.

Bandos bellows another order, and two hundred warbeasts charge over the ridge and into the Imperial Guard’s flanks. The pass becomes a maelstrom of dust and screams as Kalrassian and Zorog alike are impaled on the frenzied beasts’ horns. The sacrifice of his army was worthwhile: with the Imperial Guard gone, nothing stands between him and the Zorog capital.

Memory 4

The walls of the Zorog throne room depict subject peoples in varied ethnic dress offering tributes to the world’s most powerful emperor. Now Bandos sits on the throne, and those tributes are due to him. Victory celebrations ring around him, cheers and screams and crashes as his warbeast-riders help themselves to the palace’s treasures.

Bandos’s eyes return to one area of the tableaux. A band of aged mystics offer a bag of magical spices, but the text identifies them as the ‘Guardians of the Ultimate Destruction.’

The sounds of the victory celebration fill Bandos with disgust. He heads for his private chambers, where the Zorog Emperor’s maps should show him how to find the mystics’ home.

Memory 5

The guards throw the head mystic to the floor at Bandos’s feet. The man is repulsively old, far past the age at which a decent man would have died in battle. Bandos prods him with a metal-booted foot. “Show me the Ultimate Destruction.”

Even with his face in the dust, the mystic’s voice is firm. “My lord, the Zorog emperors and those who ruled before them came for the Destruction, but when we explained to them what it would do, each ruler tasked us to ensure that it was never used.”

“Explain to me.”

“The Destruction was a tool of Those Who Made All Things. If it were ever used, it would draw all the world’s power into the user. They would become a being of immense power, but the world would be destroyed.”

“My seers tell me there are other worlds.”

“My lord, you would not really consider…” The mystic pales. “I will not help you to use the Ultimate Destruction.”

Some deep part of Bandos feels that the decision should make him pause, but he does not. He brings his mace down on the mystic’s head, a satisfying crunch of bone and brain. His path to greater glory is clear.

Memory 6

Bandos stands alone in the temple’s inner sanctum. The Ultimate Destruction is small enough to hold in his hands.

It seems to know what he wants it to do. Its surface cracks open, and power shoots up his arms into his chest. It is painful beyond anything he could imagine, but Bandos knows of his own greatness and stands firm against the pain.

His perception expands, taking in the temple, the mountains, the former Zorog Empire, the whole world. And as he sees them, they are destroyed. He feels a thrill of conquest as tribes beyond the borders of his empire, who have never even heard his name, are snuffed out in a moment of agony. His play-room in Kalrass is shattered. All that he has conquered turns to dust.

At last he floats alone in the void, vast and impervious. The Ultimate Destruction is shrivelled, its usefulness gone. He hurls it away and goes in search of new worlds to conquer.

Memory 7

The new world’s people are savages, more backward than even the most primitive tribes of Bandos’s world. They hunt and gather with stone hand-axes. On the rare occasions they fight it is as an unordered rabble, and their society is too simple to support a warrior class. It will be satisfying to bring civilization and glory to these creatures.

Memory 8

The ruler of the world shouts an order, and his armies advance. Frenzied smalls hack at each other as their comrades fall, two waves of sword-studded flesh breaking against one another. Bigs enter the fray, wading through the bodies of the smalls. The northern tribes are using their bigs in a frontal assault, smashing through the middle of the southern tribes’ ranks, while the southern tribes are using theirs in a flanking manoeuvre. Bandos lounges in his granite throne, waiting to see which tribe will prevail.

The southern tribes’ tactic is successful. The northern army lies smashed, and the southern army descends on their city to pillage. A glorious battle! Bandos sits back, satisfied, and begins planning his next entertainment.

Memory 9

There are others like him – beings of immense power, who rule lesser beings by right of that power. They mostly leave one another alone, and Bandos is content to ignore them as long as they respect his ownership of his world. But now mighty cries ring though the void. Bandos is drawn to the sound.

It is a world, lusher and greener than any Bandos has seen. He can smell power here, power like that of the Ultimate Destruction. He gathers his armies and prepares to carve out a territory in this new world.

Memory 10

The war god waves his mighty hand, and his ork sergeants herd frenzied goblins into the blades of Saradomin’s humans.

His magical breeding programs have reached their fulfilment in this war between gods. The homogeneous creatures he found on his world are now divided into separate species, each with a military role. Goblins are disposable skirmishers, weak but fast to breed. When they are dead he sends in the orks, his heavy infantry, trudging over the bodies of the goblins to engage the weakened humans. Meanwhile his ourgs, living siege engines, hurl boulders at Saradomin’s camp.

An hour later his victorious army leads the surviving humans away in chains.

Memory 11

The newly-woken god looks fragile, but Bandos knows by now not to judge a god by their appearance. This scrawny nature god, Guthix, has just stopped a battle between the massed armies of Saradomin and Zamorak. Now he stands in Bandos’s throne room, having effortlessly brushed his guards aside.

Guthix’s voice is weary and mournful, not like that of a commander. “I have seen what you did to these poor creatures’ homeworld.” He gestures at the orks standing guard in the throne room. “I will not let you do the same thing to Gielinor. You will leave this world at once and not return.”

Bandos knows he is beaten, for now. “I will leave,” he growls. “Ourgs! Order your vassals to assemble here. I will transport all my people back to Yu’biusk.”

The ourgs freeze in place, locked by Guthix’s magic. “No,” the nature god says. “They are creatures of this world now, and will live free of your interference. You alone will leave.”

Bandos cannot restrain himself. He jumps up and swings his towering mace, intending to dash this puny god’s brains out. “These creatures are my property and I will do with them as I—”

Guthix raises a hand and Bandos finds himself alone in the void.

Memory 12

The ancient war god roars and trembling armies shuffle towards one another across the ash-strewn plain. In the distance, ruined cities smoulder beneath a sky permanently grey with cloud. The generation raised in the shadow of the fire-raining weapons is sickly, sometimes mutated. The plague of cowardice is rife; there are also more rebels against his rule than at any time since he first established control of the plane.

Bandos blasts each army’s stragglers with divine power, prompting the others to move more quickly. The two mobs meet and hack hopelessly at one another until only one remains, reduced to a few dozen bleeding wretches.

A pitiful spectacle, barely worthy of the name ‘battle’. Why can these warriors not live up to the glories of their ancestors? He blasts the survivors with divine power, killing half of them, sending the others scrambling over corpses to escape. He feels anger welling in him, stronger and more enduring than any he was capable of feeling as a mortal. The nature god had no right to deny him his property. He obliterates the last of the survivors. His toys! And he will smash them if he wants to!

Memory 13

The throne room is still save for the shifting light cast by Bandos’s pool of visions. The tribe-less god hunches on his throne and flicks at the water, conjuring image after image. Yu’biusk’s cities lie ruined; its oceans are poisoned; its forests are ash. Bandos is the only thing living in the world.

He makes the pool show him Gielinor, as he has every day since being banished. Guthix’s barrier lets him see his creatures, but not reach them. Ogres and hobgoblins have kept to his ways, awaiting only his return. The rebel goblins cower in their caves, their potential useless without a commander to lead them. The remaining goblins are at war.

Bandos smashes his fists into the water in frustration. His creatures in Yu’biusk are all gone, and now he must watch as his creatures on Gielinor destroy themselves. Curse the nature god!

Memory 14

The exiled god watches helplessly as his armies advance. Goblins wade through a quagmire, the tribal colours on their armour indistinguishable beneath layers of mud. Three quarters of the goblins who converged on this plain now lie dead, and still no tribe has emerged as victor.

The goblins withdraw to their camps after a day of fighting. Bandos roams the camps with flicks of his pool, desperately searching for some way he can affect events.

He freezes. A goblin runt, who would not be fit to live in Bandos’s empire, is looking directly at him. Could it be that this wretch is spiritually sensitive enough to see through Guthix’s barrier?

“Goblin!” Bandos shouts at the pool. “I am your god!” The goblin falls to his knees. Bandos claps his hand together in delight. “Listen to me, goblin! I make you my prophet! You are to tell your leaders to stop fighting, and give them this message…”

Memory 15

The dust clouds that the fire-raining weapons threw up have started to disperse, and stars are becoming visible. Bandos stares up at the twinkling points, and imagines the nature god’s barrier around Gielinor dispersing in the same way. Someday he will find a way around it, or it will fail, and he will return to take control of his property.

In the landscape around him, cities and mountains lie smashed to powder where he pummelled them in rage, but now he stands motionless. Tens of millennia after becoming immortal, he is finally learning patience.


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#82
strilmus
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Wait, they deleted the 15th memory?

 

i'm not sure whether or not i feel better about bandos going to gielinor because he senses power, or because he's just [bleep]ing bored and wants to throw down


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#83
helring
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helring

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I think it works better without the 15th honestly. It works right into the chosen commander prophecy and everything from the quests, and works better as the end of the memories.


R.I.P. The olde nite. A legend is gone but not forgotten.

 

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#84
strilmus
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yeah, i guess, if one wants to think that he died without zero character growth in order to justify killing him


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#85
Sy_Accursed
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yeah, i guess, if one wants to think that he died without zero character growth in order to justify killing him

 

The trouble is the 15th Memory, though showing growth, is entirely contradictory to his behaviour we have seen since then.

He was not at all patient when we met him in Missing Presumed Death and almost as soon as he returned he launched straight into a battle, again not a very patient act. 

 

The in-game version of the lore gave him character growth from childhood to the point of his death - it just wasn't very nice character growth as he went from a seemingly spoilt petulant child straight to father murdering into using real people as his toys into slaying a god knowing it would destroy his world just because he could into a godly being driven only by a lust of destruction and battle.


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#86
strilmus
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well, i guess that was jagex's mistake to make


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#87
helring
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helring

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He was designed to be evil, he wasn't meant to have redeeming characteristics. Sometimes people are just bad. Also, he didn't kill the God just because he could, it seemed implied that the myths mentioned that Jododu Otaku ascended by killing a God and Bandos intended to do the same. So he killed Jododu for a reason.


R.I.P. The olde nite. A legend is gone but not forgotten.

 

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#88
Saradomin_Mage
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Jododu Otaku

I'm glad I'm not the only one making this mistake :P

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In real life MMO you don't get 99 smithing by making endless bronze daggers.


#89
helring
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oops, and I looked it up to see how to spell it too and still messed up


R.I.P. The olde nite. A legend is gone but not forgotten.

 

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#90
Alg
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He was not at all patient when we met him in Missing Presumed Death and almost as soon as he returned he launched straight into a battle, again not a very patient act.

...Well, yes. Have you ever seen an impatient person be forced to sit on their hands for any extended period of time? :-P



#91
strilmus
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well, i didn't say it was possible REDEEMING character development


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