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The legend of the Ogre-child - Final part now online!


biox

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Okay.. now I did say part six would be the last part of the story. It's gone way beyond that now, and part seven WILL be the last part.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Be warned, this is very, VERY, long.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Without further ado, I present part six:

 

 

 

___________________________

 

 

 

The Legend of the Ogre-Child.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part six: The Evil Within.

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Years rolled on. The once wide-eyed student had become a great warrior, a skilled wizard, and expert marksman, and a strict spiritualist. He preferred not one single god, but all three, and practiced their respective cultures and magic often.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ism was now 32 years old. His hair began to recede, and grey slightly. He continued to live in Varrock, and serve King Roald.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Over the years, they had seen many, many wars. Ism had personally overthrown the insane General Khazard, and restored peace to the Tree Gnome Village.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He had also slain the mighty green dragon, Elvarg. This beast dwelled underground in an island known as Crandor, a name feared by sailors all over the world. Ism had returned to Crandor many times, and used it as a sort-of training ground. He enjoyed killing the beasts above and below the ground. The ore found in the rocks on Crandor was excellent too, and he often took a pickaxe on his many ventures.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wilderness had become his home for a short while, and heÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢d slain many a loud-mouthed warrior, looking for some quick loot. HeÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢d also become acquainted with the blue dragons which had almost killed him when he was a boy ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Ãâ he took to them often with his bow, his sword, or his magic staff.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ism was an adventurer, and was constantly seeking quests. HeÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢d even managed to restore peace between Yanille and GuÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢Tanoth, and trade between the cities had come into full swing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His adoptive family lived, as they always had, in Feldip hills. His brother developed his aim extremely well, and was known as one of the best archers in the lands. He and Ism enjoyed teaming against the fools who roamed the far northern wilds. They also made a small fortune selling the armor and weapons these slain men would leave behind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life was good for the adventurer, and he looked forward to an easy old-age of reading, painting, hunting game, writing tales of his adventures, as well as drinking and eating lots at palace feasts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Things were about to change.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Deep within the tunnels of the western mountains, Zamorakian disciples milled about a great cauldron. Screams of pain echoed through the tunnels, as the damned were slowly tormented into an undead state.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An older mystic in red robes stood by the cauldron, high in his hands the skull of a bull looked menacingly down at the disciples. He dipped the skull into the cauldron and poured the liquid down over his face. It was blood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The disciples began to prey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  • ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅO mighty Zamorak,

 

 

 

Bring forth your prophet,

 

 

 

The evil that lurks within mortals,

 

 

 

The blood giving life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Show mankind the true path,

 

 

 

Bring us your darkness,

 

 

 

Show us your almighty pain,

 

 

 

Bring down your vengeance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We ask you, o lord,

 

 

 

To cast aside other deities,

 

 

 

To unleash the power,

 

 

 

That is our savior, o Iban.ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

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Biox, your story just PWNT! :D

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keep up the good work!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note: About his account, just a wee bit of an accident. :P Don't mind it hehe.

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That was a very, very nice read :D *Can't wait for part 7 :P *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I found a little mistake with the names, while I was reading :o

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Ism and Redda were in the wild, and were being shot at, you wrote,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Redda, thinking quickly, began assembling potions. He tossed some to his brother and quickly swallowed some himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The marksmen advanced, and began shooting. One arrow bounced off IsmÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s shield with a loud ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅCLANG!ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

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That was a very, very nice read :D *Can't wait for part 7 :P *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I found a little mistake with the names, while I was reading :o

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Ism and Redda were in the wild, and were being shot at, you wrote,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Redda, thinking quickly, began assembling potions. He tossed some to his brother and quickly swallowed some himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The marksmen advanced, and began shooting. One arrow bounced off IsmÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s shield with a loud ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅCLANG!ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

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At this busy time of year, I don't expect many people to be around to see Part Seven, on Saturday or Sunday - so I'm going to post it now. I hope you enjoy the climax.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

:)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_________________________________

 

 

 

The Legend of the Ogre-Child.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part seven: The Final Battle.

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fard stepped into the temple, his dragon rearing and bucking on the chain. He launched himself at Ism, again bolts of pure energy emitting from his fingertips at the fearful adventurer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ism jumped back and took refuge behind the well of souls ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Ãâ a stone well further back in the temple. The souls of the tormented people were kept here, and many believed it was how Iban drew his power. Ism killed him last time by throwing a representation of Iban into the well ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Ãâ a Voodoo doll.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fard let his dragon loose and it ran towards the well. Ism grabbed his staff of Zamorak and the required runes. Breathing heavily, he felt consumed by fear. The dragon reared up at the foot of the well, ready to blast it with its fiery breath. Ism got to his feet and chanted his incantation again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅRassius demora malkas viour!ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

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.... =8^Q wow that took long time to read the last 2 but..... i had an idea, a sequel... let ism have a son/daughter or both and let him/her/them go thru adventures such as the same

100completepl0.png

<( *-* )> <(*-* <) (> *-*)> <( *-* )>

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