Is this the correct place for a partially real, partially ficticious blog?

 

 

 

Hello and welcome! To the trials and tribulations of a young adventurer.

 

 

 

My blog will be an account of the day to day happenings of Harakoni a young merchant who travels the world peddling his wares, fighting evil and gathering the skills nececary to become... well, rich really!

 

 

 

With his dry humour, satirical comments and big words, our young adventurer writes only for the pleasure of his readers and, of course, for Falador!

 

 

 

Most characters have been given ficticious names, and a few invented. This is for a number of reasons including:

 

+ 'No-naming-names' rule for trouble makers

 

+ Identity protection

 

+ I forgot their actual name

 

+ Their name was boob-head79.

 

if i have used your name it is coincidental, or i saw you online and though it was good enough to be stolen. if you dont want your name to be associated with this marvelous epic! please pm me so i can remove/change it/laugh at how i portrayed you

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Closed until Sundown

 

 

 

Thwack! An Arrow lodged its self into to the door, above and a little to the left of our young adventurer. Out of the shadows cast by the furnace house a small group of scarred bandits emerged, harsh shadows thrown across their face by the deep red glow. Looking more than a little evil Leutenant L. doosk swaggered foward a few paces, stumbled over a loose cobble stone before regaining his footing and looking at harakoni sheepishly.

 

"And why might you be out quite so early in the day?" he demanded, almost as if his appearance had been a statement in its self.

 

"Its not early" replied Harakoni "Its bloody mid-day" Im British remember" our hero paused for a moment unsure of wether to add a question mark to a rethorical question.

 

"Ah, well then, be on your way young one"

 

"Right you are" replied Hara with a smile. [it looked a bit like this; : ) ]

 

 

 

Soon after Lt. L. Doosk had left Harakoni to his own company an old friend, slightly grubby from years spent Mining coal in the seams below the town and also due to a severe lack of baths, Lappshaddy appeared walking alongside him. Despite his Irish name he spoke with a strong northern accent.

 

"Hi Hara!" chirruped lappshaddy, adding the time-honoured Faladian greeting, "nice Weather, eh?"

 

"Yes," said Harakoni, with the time-honoured Faladian reply "charming"

 

 

 

It was a typical kind of faladian day, not a drop of rain, nor a glimpse of sky. The tall towers of the white castle gleaming, each acid rain damaged, moss coated brick picked out clearly in the half-light of the Morning Sun. Its slightly torn blue Standards waving slightly in the low wind. Of course, it wasn't a breeze, breezes are found only in the sun.

 

 

 

"I havent seen you for a while" lappshaddy let on.

 

"Yes, i was down with a Virus."

 

Looking appaled Lappshaddy asked, "which one?"

 

"Oh," replied our hero, "Just a bit of smallpox. Nothing to worry about really. So how are you getting on with the mining? suppose your a lot better since we last spoke, about six months ago."

 

"Oh, yes well remember how the Mod-god's of runescape had deemed you a rank 70 miner?"

 

"Yes, yes." Harakoni replied his voice full of pride, with only a slight hint of anticipation "Do go on."

 

"Well they have now deemed me to be of Rank 72!"

 

Harakoni promptly strangled his friend.

 

 

 

"Well" thought our hero, aloud "I guess my title as the best miner amongst our group has been lost. I guess it may be time to move on to other things."

 

"Shut up, you nutter!" hollered a woman from an upstairs window.

 

"Sorry!" came the reply, just as loud "I dont realise I'm doing it sometimes"

 

"And you can get off my Begonias whilst your at it"

 

"Right you are, Mrs Lady-man-person-sir" Harakoni said confusedly, saluting.

 

 

 

At that very moment a slightly befuddled Lappshaddy shambled around the corner, spotted Harakoni and bolted into an alley with a squeak.

 

After a number of attempts to call the terrified friend to his side Harakoni figured that the best thing to do was to search the alley. This was however easier said than done there were after all, so many places for an armourless youngling to hide; behind the dumpster, in the dark doorway or even in an empty crate labeled "BEWARE! Dwarven fire-whisky".

 

Eventually after checking all these places Our intrepid adventurer found his quarry disguised as a techni-coloured egg, his cover blown only by the thick layer of coal dust that slightly dulled the red and green shell.

 

 

 

"Tig, your it"

 

unable to resist the urge lappshaddy cracked open his shell in a flash of blue-grey light and attempted to assert him self the winner.

 

"Alright, alright" said Harakoni grabing his friend by his tigging-finger and twisting "Look, I've got a plan..." he began

 

"No freekin way" Interrupted lappshaddy "The last plan of yours we undertook ended with us strung by our ankles and almost sacrificed to he-who-must-not-be-named by the dark wizards of Varrock"

 

"He who must...?" started Harakoni

 

"C'mon Hara, surely you know that saradomin has told us we cant call him..."

 

"Yeah, well, anyway. Are you actually trying to tell me that wasnt fun?"

 

"Fun, FUN? you call...

 

"Right, right. Ill just ask Mer then." mumbled Harakoni sadly, though he was secretly glad he was the first to finish a sentence.

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

By golly, thats Maad!

 

 

 

Later that day Harakoni and his good Friend Mer found them selves heading south to find adventure, merchanting their way across the world of Runescape.

 

A Merchant her self, after all that was her full name, Mer knew exactly what she was doing. Harakoni though, well that was a different story.

 

 

 

A not-too-tough warrior-miner who often turned his hand to a bit of smithing too [aswell as Woodcutting, fletching, cooking and thumb twidding amongst other things]. Harakoni could often be found pedling his runite wears [Not made by him self of course] in falador park, though he was often moved on by Authorities due to excessive use of white waves and smilys, he considered him self an adequate Merchant capable of making a generous ammount of cash each day. He was ofcourse sadly mistaken, with hours between sales at times and profits minimal he still undoubtedly had a lot to learn, his intentions were good though and he had what it takes, an addictive personality and an obsession with money. Mer saw him as more of a small stupid Monkey than a person but she knew he had somethiing in there, somewhere.

 

 

 

UNFINISHED, OBVIOUSLY, GIVE ME A WHILE ;)

 

Any similarities between Falador and Britain are purely intentional.

 

 

 

Currently i thank:

 

LappShaddy - A good, yet slow, friend

 

LtlDoosk - A great guy who I havent seen in a long time

It's looking interesting already mate, and going by your noobtionary you are intelligent, and this should prove a good read, I'll be looking back often :D

thanks bud, i seem to remember your username from some where :D

 

 

 

any way ill get the first chapter finished asap but fraid i had to go out soon after starting to type 'sighs'

bumped, due to mucho-newcontento (thats spanish for word added)