Vendetta (1-15)

[therealtermenator10]

Chapter 1 The Art of Revenge

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not Quite The Beginning but The Start of the Story

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He moved silently, but quickly through the old broken village. The village had nothing special about itself, except all the bandits and run away convicts. It was mostly composed of tents and nearly destoyed houses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The night produced freezing air giving him the advantage of staying awake and alert. Unseen in the pitch black darkness of the night, assuring, no one would see him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His destination wasn't far however, he had to keep on the look out, for an... unexpected interruption, in the past he ran into many. Running past a couple tents he peeked in a house, finding the two men he needed to kill, an exciting feeling came over him as he saw them eating dinner. Creeping up to the door, he slowly looking right and left. It was an old house maybe a rental, or whoever with a sword wishes to live in refuge. Surprisingly the nicest one there. But a dump in a real town like Varrock. Their was no one was around. A torch hung on the left of the door frame, showing his worn out face grinning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He took one deep breathe and kicked open the door. The men were eating dinner on a table left of the door. Down the hall, was two rooms both to the left. In the last room was a third man sound asleep on an old bed made of hay. Both men in the front room jumped, yelling "what the hell!" or "your alive?!" horrified and disbelieve in their expresions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first kill was easy. All he had to do was stab his long dragon sword through the heart of his once was follower, he didn't stand a chance with only a butter knive. Having no armor himself, just a dragon long, but since he was such feared man, the two men didn't want to underestimate him. The other man panicked, searching for a weapon to defend himself. Too late, as he turned his back, he looked down his stomach to see the tip of a red sword four inches through, and still sliding through. He eventually pulled it out. Watching the man suffer a painful death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Boy in the other room, down the hall silently awoke and waited, in the dark. A maple short bow in his left hand an arrow in his right. The bow served him well, ever since he made it when he was young. His master casted a spell on it, so it will never break and the string will never snap. The arrows he was supplied with, were also spelled so they would never get lost and he could find them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He knew the old man lived and was out to kill him. Somehow he just knew, his uncle survived and tonight they would kill each other, but who would survive and who would die? He thought he had the element of surprise being in the dark and was eagerly waiting to shoot his lucky, stone cold, rune arrow through his uncle's head, he had never missed once with his lucky arrow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2 The Pain of Victory

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Real Beggining

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two years, five months, six days on night ago. He remembered every second and counted out every day cutting a two inch line down his neck to his wrist spaced each cut one centimeter apart. Lately when it bleeds, it bleeds a lot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He remembered the agony and hardship that day. The things they did to him and molded him to what he is now. The events that changed his life for the rest of his life, for the worst.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was a proud warrior back then. His armor shone so brightly with the Saradomins colors. His long white hair covered his neck at his ears and the touching the tips of his eyes. He had a strong build and was so fierce even dragons would think twice before attacking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One day the high council of Saradomin sent him and fifty men on a mission, that later would lead to a betrayal of his life. The mission was set in the wilderness, the mission kill the great demon Kane. Zamorak Priest held a ceremony to resurrect Kane.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The army defeated the priest killing all. The demon took them three day, without food and sleep to kill. The damn demon killed twenty men, two of his most trusted and greatest friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The army spent the night in the wilderness with a great feast. An awesome victory, nicely cooked food and a wondrous night if sleep. Still his heart was missing for his friends died and some of his greatest men were lost for ever without a burial. The morning after, was going to be much much worse, a nightmare if you will.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3 The Son of Evil

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Present.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He walked slowly around the table across the room. Slowly turned down the hall passing the first room; checked it, safe. Creeping out of there, he stopped two squeaks, one wasn't his. There was most definitely another person here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He grinned knowing what he was going do. Walking back to the front room he silently lifted a corpse and walked back. Making sure the other man, unknown to him, knew what was going on, he did. And thought tricky of that old man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He walked to the doorway and threw the body past. Nothing, it just flew passed the doorway and banged the ground. A roar of laughter came from both men, for they both knew each other quite well. And something like this was new to both of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Silence. Both men, dared not move or talk. Knowing full well of their fighting skills. "Shall we fight like gentlemen Mathew?!" The man asked sword ready.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mathew in the other room slowly put the bow and arrow down. Slowly he walked to the door way. Stopping short of the light. "Uncle Jeremiah, how will I know you won't attack the second I come out, my sword is above the fire place." Nearly banging his head on the wall, giving out so much information was such a dangerous choice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Ah! so it is you Mathew. Fine I will achieve your sword but promise not to shoot an arrow at my back." The was a faint whisper: yes. As soon as Jeremiah grabbed the sword and turn back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There stood Mathew with an arrow notched. "Here?" Jeremiah gently slid the sword across the ground. Silently Mathew picked up the sword and both men uncle and nephew like brothers, got in a stance for battle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4 The Nightmare of Betrayal

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Past

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A cool air produced a fog blanketed the ground, a beautiful yet wrenched sight it was, on the grave yard reckage. Jeremiah sound asleep woke with sword to his throat. A trader named Malachi held it. Grinning with the evilest smirk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was such an awkward moment, as if a dream. But a nightmare claimed it as Jeremiah felt blood roll down his neck. Malachi's eyes gleamed with rage and amusement. Rage overwhelmed Jeremiah, gripping his dagger hidden underneath his blankets. He thrusted it through Malachi's right foot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jeremiah ran away into a forest pulling out the dagger. A loud cry followed him behind. As he ran deep in a forrest an arrow sliced through the wind piercing him on his left shoulder while making cover behind a tree. "Damn it." He whisper. All the blood from the wound rushed down his chest quicker than what he thought would.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jeremiah caught up with his breath and started to run pass more trees, all there were, were trees, none stop. When he finally stopped he was in a dead end. A groove where bears once lived with their kin, until they were massacred for game.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coming from the darkness Malachi and twenty followers behind in a line, walked in. Carrying weapons of all sorts. All of them were grinning, making grunts and cursing under their breathe. Cause tonight they knew as Jeremiah now knows, was the betrayal of his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5 The Manners of Hatred

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Present.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Circling around, swords ready and all they could think about was killing one and another. A hated sight it was, a dream for some, a fear for others. Like brothers they once were, now hated enemies consumed by revenge. They both smiled of the thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Here we go." Said Mathew while in a split second Jeremiah saw his chance and raised his sword over his shoulder than down to his nephew's neck. Cling! The swords intertwine. Mathews face brightened with a smile of rage and excitement.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As swords clashed, minutes pass, as minutes pass, energy decreased. (That's kinda Poetic. Now on to the story) Mathew and Jeremiah were getting very weak and tired, indeed. As their energy poured, the harder they tried not to show their weakness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hours have pass, Jeremiah was getting fed up, he than thought of an old trick. It took him a minute but he decided to tempt the sword trick. As swords held steady he rolled his sword causing Mathews sword to fly out of his grasp. Shocked by this maneuver, Mathew tripped backwards on his backside. An evil laugh floated from Jeremiahs mouth, as he Pinned his nephew on the floor, his sword dangled over Mathews heart, almost carelessly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You were once my apprentice, and a friend. We were like brothers. So since we are family, I will let you live, this once. But let me assure you, the next time we meet I will plunge this sword in your heart!" With that Jeremiah ran out, for more revenge. To quench his thirst of hatred, for he loved the taste.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6 The Mistakes of the Past

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before everything. Ten years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"No! Your gripping your sword to light! Though a sword should flow and be a part of you. Never be careless with it!" Jeremiah barked at Mathew as they trained with their sword play.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Swoosh, Jeremiah sword flew across, eye leveled. Mathew gave up and showed no interest to keeping up on his defence. Smack! A bright red mark showed, starting to swell. Covering the top half of Mathew's face, he threw down his sword.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I Quit!!!" The ground shook, as Mathew screamed and tears started to rush down his face. Heart broken, Jeremiah saw his beloved nephew run away. They were the only family they had.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Late at night as Jeremiah searched for his nephew, as the search was near a stop he heard weeping from the cemetery. Walking down to where Mathew was kneeling across his parents grave stones, he sat down and placed his arm on the back of his nephew.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We are our only family we have. Did you know I had a son? He was exactly like you, and one day I pushed him to far so he just ran away. He died, murdered by a gang. I was so worried about you." Jeremiah concentrated on the gravestones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What did you do about it, how'd you get over your sons death?" Mathew whispered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jeremiah smiled, "I locked and captured their families and all the men, and put them in seperat cages. I burned the cage with all the family first. To show them what it was like. Than I killed everyone of those damned men, burning them alive, as well. And you want to know how it felt?" Mathew nodded. "It felt, I felt... good."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7 More Mistakes of the Past

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seven years later

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loud music of all kinds played as a group of men walked in the gates of the king's castles. A triumphant day it was, most perfect for an award ceremony. In the group twelve proud men held there heads high.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walking in the castle they formed a straight line to walk down the aisle. Mathew in front being especially proud, was the top knight in class. Thanks to his Uncle's teachings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The kingdom was magnificent, from the red carpet underneath their feet to the masterpiece artwork above the King in the throne. Seven people sat in separate seats, the King in the middle, his wife, the queen on his right, the prince on his left. By the prince was the high priest and next to the queen, Jeremiah, the king's official bodyguard. Two generals in the end.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ceremony went explicit, Mathew would've swore his uncle had tears pouring down his face, he was so proud. The truth was Jeremiah shone a tear but denies it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Things went to amiss, in the worst way, as the last man kneeled to be knighted. As the kings sword crossed his left shoulder, he pulled out a dagger lunging forth at the king. Jeremiah was first to act as he threw a throwing knife at the traders head, killing him instantly. However it was too late, the dagger plunged through the kings heart. Just a split second before the throwing knife hit the trader in the temple.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A proud and great morning started as the sun rose, a woeful and pained ending as the sun set. Celebrations turned to funerals, as there was a new beginnings for two new lovers, Jeremiah and the Queen. And one jealous and angry prince, now crowned king.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8 The Truth Behind the Lies

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Present

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Marriage was splendid, I thought. The priest married me and Diana. People were so happy for us, Mathew was so happy for his me, and supposedly the prince. Nothing could have ruin that moment, at least that's what I remembered. Until the prince gave me my last mission.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Ah!" Jeremiah screamed charging at Malachi club in hand. "You die Now!" He kept screaming and swinging away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I heard your wife screamed in pity!" Defending himself "I laughed at her, and booted her in the face!" Malachi taunted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

However none of this actually happened. When the queen learned of her late husband's death in battle of the demon Kane, she went on a two year vow of silence. On the night of her second year she committed suicide swallowing coals. Jeremiah wasn't aware of this. As Queen Diana had no knowledge, that Jeremiah lived.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A fearsome rage burned in Jeremiah as they battled, in the bar. Ever since the mission, Malachi was paid with an awesome amount of money (his reward) of the death of Jeremiah. It was hit, and Malachi drank up all of his reward money.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Malachi was drunk during the fight, and soon enough he was lying on the ground begging Jeremiah's forgiveness. Kissing Jeremiahs feet. Jeremiah was so enraged, however he didn't want to hear this so to show how much emotional pain, he booted him in the face, breaking Malachi's nose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Now tell me, who paid you!" Jeremiah roared, he walked to Malachi. Mace in hand. The mace had a beautiful rock in the end , now the beauty was covered in blood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Okay! Okay! Please don't kill me! Please!" Jeremiah ignored Malachi, because he was sick with anger that it needed to be quenched. "It was.. was... The new King... uh what was... er name?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jeremiah mouth dropped at this new information. He knew that the prince hated him, but this, he thought was so extreme. He couldn't take it so he broke the silence screaming the prince's name Desmond! And with that he jumped up mace behind his shoulder swinging it down on the face of Malachi. The impact of the attack killed him instantly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jeremiah threw down his weapon on Malachi's corpse and walked away. As soon as he was within a mile away, he took out a piece of paper with the list of names who betrayed him. Almost all of them were dead, three more left. He crossed out Malachi and wrote PRINCE DESMOND. Now there's four.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9 The Torture of Betrayal

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Past

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Malachi's eyes glittered as he kept walking towards the unprotected and weak Jeremiah. "Your dead my lord." his laughed flowed out his mouth so wicked and evil. He was no better than the slime goblins under ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Malachi slowly looked down on Jeremiah, who was lying on the ground shirtless, dying so painfully slowly by blood loss. The arrow wound pained worse than Jeremiah expected. But he was able to pull it out and throw in in the darkness of the woods "LOOK AT ME!" Malachi screamed lifting Jeremiahs head by his hair, than punching his left temple.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jeremiah flew back down whipping his head back. "You fool" he whispered pulling out the hidden dagger in his pocket, lunging forth at Malachi's neck. His attempt failed, as another arrow flew passed sticking in Jeremiah's ribs. He swore that these arrow came out of nowhere in the darkness of the woods by the devil.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Malachi laughed again and started... just beating Jeremiah over and over again. Jeremiah's face was so.... deformed, his body bruised and there twenty men of Saradomin watching in entertainment. Oh dear Saradomin, it was so horrible. And it kept going on till Mathew stepped up with a bow in hand and two arrows missing from his quiver.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Stop!" Mathew yelled running towards Malachi, "He had enough. It's time for him die the same as Christ." Malachi instantly stopped and roared to all of the men the orders, prince Desmond gave unto him. They swarmed around Jeremiah and nailing down his body. Jeremiah was hanging like the cross, two nails pinned his palms and one large one pinned his feet together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All the men in the group could never even look Jeremiah in his eyes (which in spite of everything, that was the worse thing Jeremiah thought they did unto him), instead they were drunk and celebrating, trying to avoid eye contact. They also even punching and slashing all over his chest, stomach, legs and arms. Just torturing him for more entertainment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

However two men weren't. First Malachi walked up and bowed whispering "Good day my lord?" As he snickered away. Next was Mathew who just looked at his uncle in the eyes. "That's my arrow" he whispered, pulling out the arrow. Than disappearing in the wilderness, he left this whole ordeal and tried to forget everything and hoped to the almighty Saradomin, King Desmond would keep his end of their bargain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10 The Responsibilities of Trust

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Present

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Where is he!?" Jeremiah screamed, jumping from his chair and pushing the table separating both men out the way. In an inn called the Knightly Inn, Jeremiah rented a room where he is now interrogating an old friend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Both men were old forgotten heroes and friends. Events in the passed change Jeremiah now to where there's no return. More wicked and powerful Jeremiah is ruthless and owns reputation to where even the most powerfull and respected Generals and Kings fear him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You've change so much, old friend! Stop now and never look back, please! I beg of you! Your eyes turned red as the wicked Zamorak!" The old hero begged and pleaded, nothing however got to Jeremiah. His thirst for blood and hunger for revenge was growing more and more in him to an unstoppable being he is now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Zamorak! Ha! He's nothing, I'll deal with him later. Now tell me, where is Desmond! I will Kill you, friend, and burn your family! Heed my words, for I fear not to. I have killed over seventy men, and your families death won't bother anymore then the wickedest of men I killed. Now tell me where is he!?" He swung at the old heroes face knocking him down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They looked at each other for a long time till "Fine I will tell you just... just don't hurt my family? He heard you were out to kill him so he and his family ran out to Edgeville to hide, he's heavily guarded! Please though, don't go, and leave forever."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"He has a family now, aye? Well I will deal with them after his death." He said to himself. Then turning to the fallen hero "Thank you old friend, but if word gets out to him I'm coming, you will die! Even if you aren't responsible, I WILL KILL YOU." He left the building and started his journey to Edgeville, humming an evil tune.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11 Bargaining with Zamorak

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Past

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the moon lit night there hanged a helpless warrior, Jeremiah. Half naked, half awake, half alive. For the pass three hours he screamed, yelled for help, and even cried. On the edge of death he finely accepted it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No, he didn't, he doesn't fear death. He'll spit on death, when he gets the chance. No not today, it'll wait for another day. Thoughts started draining in his head. Anger was building up. "Where are you Saradomin!" He yelled. "I have stayed faithfull!" He sighed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nothing, all there was, was nothing. There is another one, he thought. He would never ever imagine this, but there was no other one out there, that will help him out. Not even Sardomin. And after evrything he done for that god, he never once stop being faithful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Zamorak! I know you here!" He bursted. Than fell silent, only the sound of wind. Than a shadow creeped from the wilderness. It walked closer and closer to Jeremiah. Finally when it got in the moon light, Jeremiah saw a small man, No armor, no weapon, just a neatly sharped dressed man. He smoothly slid over to look Jeremiah in the eye, and smirked at the sight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hello there," He held out his hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm a little nailed down..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The man only smiled and snapped. The nails than turned into sand, and Jeremiah fell to his knees. After rubbing his hands and catching his breathe Jeremiah slowly arossed, and they shook hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"The names Zammorak, you must be Jeremiah? Am I right?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Your Zammorak!?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Yes."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hmm, I thought you'd... look different. Thank you, by the way" Jeremiah rubbed his hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zammorak smiled, and said, "Welcome to my game."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12 Rules and Punishments of the Game

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Follow me." Zammorak commanded Jeremiah who without hesitation followed. Still however thoughts were running in his head. If saradomin exsists why didn't he help me. Since Zammorak saved me is he the true god?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They walked passed trees, so much, it was hyppnotizing. "Watch out for the vine, sticking out of the ground." Zammorak told Jeremmiah keeping his eyes forward hands held together behind his back. While Jeremiah whatched Zammorak closely he didn't pay atention, and tripped landing in some animal dung.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Damn it." he whispered wiping the dung off his cheek and arm. "Now what did I tell you!" Zammorak roared at Jeremiah. As they stopped at a river. "Remove your clothes and bathe, I shall return with a fresh pair of clothes with new and more powerfull armor and weapons." Zammorak said calming his voice down a bit, as he dissapeared into the wilderness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jeremiah placed all his clothes on a rock and hurried and bathed in the cool river. Something strange suddenly happened, all his wounds were gone, the river washed them away. As he finished he walked up to the rock, to find the new clothes and armor, Zammorak promised. He also found a dragon long with zammoraks symbol engraved on it, along with other third age letters on it. He put the armor on and looked at himself in the rivers reflection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Ah! Do you like it?" Zammorak creeped up on Jeremiah.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jumping up real fast and hurrying back to find his cool he said, "It is superb."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Excellent, now heres what you gotta do." Zammorak handed him a clothe with golden ink cursive writing. The clothe tinted red, had a list of names, all who betrayed him. "Now these rules are simple, but if you wish not to do so, I will send all my army to kill you, understood?" Jeremiah nodded. "You will kill all these men. Including-"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"But my nephew is on this list..." Jeremiah interputed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zammarok smirk, "All those who serve any kind of unjustice, under any kind of postition, under any circumstances, deserves to die. Now after killing all these men, you will cross them out with you own blood. Killing Malachi and your nephew, I want you to use this." Zammarak handed Jeremiah a mace of dragon stone. With a golden Zammorak symbol engraved on it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"So... all you want me to do is kill these men, what do I get in return?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Such arrogance, it deserves to be punished, but if you must know. I am raising an army to destroy the unjust, the wrong, the stupid." Zammorak paused, and Jeremiah hanging on every word like they were his last. "You will be the leader of this army, the general. But you must prove yourselve worthy, killing these men. In the meantime you shall keep these gifts and use them. You are my right hand man, Jeremiah. If you fail me your, after death will be the worst kind of prison anyone can endure. Your senses will vanish, you will be trapped in everlasting darkness and worse suprise follow."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13 Through Mathew's Eyes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five days before Jeremiah's betrayel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I want you two, to kill Jeremiah!" Desmond pounded his fist on his table. Malachi, Desmond, Mathew, and a few other guards were in a hidden basement in a castle. "Malachi, here is 10,000 gold coins. You will get another 10,000 after the deed is done." Desmond held out a purple velvet pouch. "Mathew," Desmond smiled turning his head at Mathew. Mathew eyes were red, he was sick to the stomache, and didn't look back up. "If you kill your uncle, you may have your fair lady back." He smiled, Mathew nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seven days before Jeremiah's Betrayel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'll always love you." Mathew whispered in his girlfriends ear, Jamie. They were laying down in an openfield. After soaking up the sun. They just relaxed, it was a time for themselves, which was very rare.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She smiled, and lightly kissed him on the lips. Jamie was your average day princess. Except her father is king of the white knights and is at war with Desmond.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Let's swim!" She whispered, and ran out to the small lake. Mathew was caught off balance as she embarresed him, so he got up and chased her to the lake. They started swimming, but after awhile things got silent, as the held each other close in the water and kissed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"General Mathew!" A small army including Malachi swarmed in. Jamie and Mathew turned back. They were sorounded, "Now, Come!" Jamie looked at Mathew in the eyes. They slowly swam back, fearing if they didn't as Malachi wished, they would both die.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Capture the princess, we will hold her in the dungeons, Mathew we have a meeting with Desmond and he is most displeased."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14 Conflict of Interest

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅSo, partner whatchya have?ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬Å Asked a barbarian bartender who works at the local bar in the barbarian village, just below Edgeville. Jeremiah sat down on poorly made wooden stool. Both men had a rough day, and wanted rest. The bartender had to catch and stop three theifs from ever staling from his bar again. And was late on a few payments, that were due, from some dangerous people, so to speak. Jeremiah walked from an Inn in a swamp near Lumbridge to Edgeville, all in one day. Also not having anything to eat or drink all day, making him tired and very frustraded.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jeremiah looked at him for minute as if he was looking at nothing. The bartender grunted, waking Jeremiah from his daze. Jeremiah looked right and left real fast and said, ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅJust an ale.ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

[termenator10]

supid...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Man seriosly that was one of the most stupid things I have ever read! LMAO! you really out done yourself J.J. Ha Ha! Man that story, let me tell ya the truth sucked!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love yeah cuz...

[Xewleer]

I think this is a very well written, for the plotline...

 

 

 

grammar could do with some sprucing up, and spelling, I.E. Fiest- >Feast

 

 

 

but very good ending, that body trick needs to be written down some where... (oh, wait, it is woops :oops: )

 

 

 

Ignore your ... cousin? Those who degrade other's work without cause are not worthy to critique any except themselves, however, this opens them up to the criticisms of others.

 

 

 

By the way... what your doing (apologizing for him) shows true honor, Nothing like your cousin, remember, change your passwords (that's not the real lesson- that is for you to perceive from what I said, not what I tell you)

[archimage_a]

I think the plot was there. There was feeling as well. But there wasn't the writing skill to back it up. Sorry but you are lacking that, you write perhaps 2 or 3 compound sentences per line. I THINK that you would be better suited to writting poetry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A story is something that needs to flow, but have the power to span great gaps when required. You seem able to span the gaps, you just can't make the story flow at more than a trickle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just struck with a thought, the disjointed story seems to be as a result of lots of attempts to sit down and write. If it is not coming naturally as you write then (As much as it pains me to say it) you should plan. The planning you are really good at, the story is a very clear guideline to what you could write.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyway it was ok, not great not bad. Something I would perhaps find in a collection of works, not a stand alone piece.

[therealtermenator10]

Thanks guys for your comments. Remember guys I still haven't finished.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And Xeweeler, I was just apologizing cause he is my cousin and even though we are completely different I love and care for him, You don't choose your family. They are God's gift (or responsibility) to you, as you are to them. He also did show me this site and everything. But you are right on some account.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Archimage_A, I wrote this story trying to make it flow or easy to read for the uninterested or unintelligent (Like my cousin, lol). You know so more people would like it, or at least get interested. And besides I tried poetry once and I'm sorta bad at it. Maybe I can you show you one of my most recent poems, and talk more about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks again Guys!

[archimage_a]

Ok he's not finished so therefore the story is rubbish because of that...

 

 

 

Is that what you are saying? Because it really isn't that bad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I read what he wrote:

 

 

 

It was short, but expandable. It needs more, but is ok.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So I suggested how I would improve it...thats all, its what we are here for...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And do you really think I am A**? I really hate to tell you but I am not that great....would also prefer you to stay on task, I understand that he's family but to be honest if he is ok with us talking about his poem in a way that is not entirely possitive then we will. If not then please ask him to use a different forum, this is about improving peoples skills, not stunting them....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And most of the time I am high on Endorphins. No its not illegal, it is also 100% natural. So I have a pretty good excuse for why my writing is 'spaced out'.

[therealtermenator10]

Okay Okay guys will you all relax, especially you Richie. Now listen up okay, archimag a was only giving me some advice. It's fine, amature writers can use amature advice. Thank you Xewleer for appreciating my story, however it does confuse me, hearing you telling me a lesson learned. I mean you never taught me any lessons? So what kind of lessons am I suposse to learn? Have a good day all.

[therealtermenator10]

Chapter 6 posted! I'm not sure I like it however. It needs something more, give me time and it'll look better in the future.

[archimage_a]

Ok he's not finished so therefore the story is rubbish because of that...

 

 

 

Is that what you are saying? Because it really isn't that bad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was actually asking what you meant. I do not think the story is rubbish, but it seems to be what you are saying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If he is spending all of his tim improving his writing then he will be happy with some help, if not then he doesn't have to take it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would really find it useful if you were to slow on your offensive actions. You have been trying to push everyone here away because of them giving him advice and not be fake and saying it was the single best story written. Before this you told others that

 

 

 

'at least I were being honest, unlike the other weirdos here.'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So what do you want us to do? Tell him a bunch of barefaced lies?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyway I thought the two new chapters were great. The final two paragraphs were written like a true story. If you can keep up a pattern like that then you will be fine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

However I think there is a huge chunk missing, maybe you haven't written it yet but you have had them change roles over five years, something must have happened to push them the other way.

[archimage_a]

I quite enjoyed being flamed... :roll:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyway I thought it was quite good. Except the bit about 'oh he didn't know' sounds like a afterthought, might be good to add another chapter before it saying about all of that, thats the fun of story writing, you can change things...

[therealtermenator10]

You liked my cousin bugging you, thats kind of funny. He might come back on in a couple days, I don't know. He's a weird guy. Anyways thanks for reading!!! \ Hey thats actually a good tip, thank you Archimage A!

[therealtermenator10]

Finished and posted chapter 9!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh and Archimag_a... um actually... the funny this is.... Is I planned all my chapters, except 5-9. LOL so I guess, I should stop planning and write more on the top of my mind. LOL... cause it sounds to me you like all the other chapters other than 1-4.

[archimage_a]

Could be, some people as just naturally good and flowing a story. If you try to force it in a plan then sometimes its worse...I hardly ever plan, it seems like a waste of time. But you have to be on the safe side sometimes, because in a shortish story like this there needs to be a definate plot line. In a long continuing story you can do whatever you want.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well I enjoyed talking to someone that was unreasonable...reminded me of teachers...

[therealtermenator10]

Finished and posted chapter 10! :thumbsup: Now I'm gonna follow some of Archimage_A's advice and expand. Please reply, but remember I still haven't finished. Give me time, and it will a whole lot better. Thanks for reading!

[therealtermenator10]

Finally finished chapter 11

[therealtermenator10]

Chapter 12 finished! \

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keep in mind I am still working on it, and it is not finished. I'm still finding ways to improve it and ways to expand. I think There will be 8 more chapters, but I am not sure yet. Any comments or advice is welcome. Thanks for Reading!

[therealtermenator10]

Chapter 13, COMPLETED :thumbsup: Yeah!

[therealtermenator10]

OH and if you guys have any advice comments, please they are all welcome. I know I said this 10 times before but I really want this story as perfect as possible.

[therealtermenator10]

CHapter 14, Comleted! Took forever though, writers block. Sorry. :-w

[therealtermenator10]

finish chapter 15, took me over four months, so yeah...... but ima finish this story and make it perfect!