Jump to content

The Gaalsien & Smokeeagle Saga


Gaalsien

Recommended Posts

Important note: a guy running from a bad thing is a little cliched but just try and stick with it. Please.

 

 

 

Hey. My first post ever! Anybody who gives good, smart, intelligent review gets 1k.

 

 

 

This here's my lil' ole' story. If you want to be in it for some strange reason just ask and I'll try and fit you in somewhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Important notice: I suck at writing. I also make glaring mistakes, plot holes, inconsistencies, and 'inconsistancies' is about as developed as my vocabulary gets.

 

 

 

-----------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Danger level 8

 

 

 

I ran like my life depended on it, mainly because it did, stumbling over the scorched rocks and rubble that littered this barren hellhole.

 

 

 

Danger level 4

 

 

 

"I'm gonna kill you! Hehehe!"

 

 

 

He was so close I could feel his rank breath on the back of my neck neck. Once again, his scimtar carved cruel, crimson lines across my back, and I screamed in agony.

 

 

 

Danger level 1

 

 

 

"Sanctuary!" I screamed, diving for the blessed line. "Sanctuary!"

 

 

 

The scimitar swung again. This time, it struck bone.

 

 

 

I collapsed on the floor, limbs flailing and twitching, as the last of my life points ebbed away. I watched, through far away and glassy eyes, the Pker stoop low to my corpse. He took twelve gold and a tinderbox from my clothes, and continued on his merry way, looking for his next victim.

 

 

 

------------------------

 

 

 

Smokeeagle co-writes. He'll probably show up in a bit when I direct him to this site and he signs up. (But he's a bit stupid so that could take a while.)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 86
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

that was a pretty awesome description of someone running from a pker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As his scimtar carved cruel, crimson lines across my back, I screamed in agony.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i would have worded it a little like that. only thing i saw really wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

nice little bit :)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hey, thanks for the reviews. Any suggestions on where it should go (other than straight in the bin)?

 

 

 

-----------------------------

 

 

 

The pain was gone. Looking down, I found so had my body. With vague anoyance I realized my iron longsword, that I had loved like a woman, was gone too.

 

 

 

There was a great deal of light here, wherever here was, seeming to glow from everywhere at once. It shone through the thick, white smoke curling around the place.

 

 

 

Turning in a circle, I found that it was pretty much like this as far as the eye could see. Wow. The afterlife sure was a big let down. I'd expected beer flowing, busty maidens, valkyries, quaffing. But you probably had to be a true hero to get that.

 

 

 

Not that I'd got much chance to prove myself, I thought angrilly. If I ever got my hands on that damn pker again I'd-

 

 

 

"So you're the dead noob."

 

 

 

I would've jumped a mile in the air had I had legs to do it with.

 

 

 

"Who said that?!"

 

 

 

The massive voice spoke again, blasting my non-existent ear drums to screds.

 

 

 

"It was I, Zamorak the Great. Lord of anger, chaos, violence and sarcasm!"

 

 

 

"Do you have to yell like that?"

 

 

 

"I am not yelling!" roared the Diety. "This is my normal voice. THIS IS ME YELLING!"

 

 

 

"Argh! Shut the hell up!"

 

 

 

A sudden, deathly silence filled the void.

 

 

 

"Did thou just tell the Great God Zamorak, ever present Diety of anger, chaos, violence, and sarcasm to cease his spaking?" the voice threatened.

 

 

 

"Um.....no."

 

 

 

"I think you did...."

 

 

 

"Nope. "

 

 

 

"I'm quite sure you did."

 

 

 

"Must've been some other guy."

 

 

 

"DARE THEE NOT TO LIE TO THINE GOD!"

 

 

 

"Fine. I admit it."

 

 

 

And I waited for my soul to be crushed into a thousand pieces.

 

 

 

Zamorak sighed.

 

 

 

"If thou weren't still needed I'd be crushing your soul into a thousand pieces by now," he assured.

 

 

 

I nodded understandingly.

 

 

 

"However, sadly, you have a destiny left unfinished back on.....whatever the hell that place is called."

 

 

 

This suprised me somewhat. I had a destiny? Although, knowing my luck, it was to die on a sacrificial alter.

 

 

 

"Soul reasignment will commence now."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

My soul landed back in my body with a painful thud. I opened my eyes and stared up at the storm-tossed skies.

 

 

 

"Owwww."

 

 

 

My back was killing me, but in a less literal way than before and, running my fingers over it, I found the deep gouges had healed. My shirt however, whom I'd also loved like a woman, hung in tatters.

 

 

 

Rummaging in my ear, I found a maggot eating away at my brains and pulled it out.

 

 

 

I sat up. A huge block of mithril swung in a graceful arc into my face.

 

 

 

CRUNCH!

 

 

 

"Ah, you *****rd!"

 

 

 

The man looked confused for a minute:

 

 

 

ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅWhat did you say?ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"You going to Falador?"

 

 

 

"Not in this weather, n-"

 

 

 

"How does 500 gold sound?"

 

 

 

"Hop on."

 

 

 

Thanking the man, I threw my sack onto the back of the cart and climbed up after it. I found it filled with bundles of wheat, which I lay back in, protected from the now densely falling snow.

 

 

 

With a crack of a whip and a lurch, the cart started to trundle its way out of Varrock. We passed out of the city walls passed and were soon heading at a steady pace along the dirt track that led up through open farmland, barbarian village, more farmland, and finally came to Falador.

 

 

 

"Hey! Hey, you, ******! Give me back my ****ing money!"

 

 

 

I sat up. Down the road, the man known as Smokeeagle was running.

 

 

 

I was by now armed to the teeth with the latest in high-tech smithing, whilst he had nothing. Still, there was something about the crazed look he had in his eyes and the slight foaming at the mouth that worried me all the same.

 

 

 

"Um. Can you make this thing go any faster?" I asked the driver

 

 

 

"Goin' as fast as they can," the man replied, looking at the two aging donkeys that pulled the cart.

 

 

 

From out of the sack I pulled a beautiful marvel of engineering; a ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅBalastor and Oakarm one-shot crossbowÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"I-hate-the-stinkin'-wildy," I muttered, crunching across a field of human bones, skulls shattering underfoot.

 

 

 

Ahead through the swirls of black smoke, I could make out a building. This was good because it could offer a safe haven. This was also bad because other people probably thought the same way.

 

 

 

As I neared, I realised it was a church. That was good. Nobody'd attack somebody in a church, right?

 

 

 

Who was I kidding: this was the wildy, the home of the lowest, scummiest low-life scum in all of Runescape society.

 

 

 

I lifted the crossbow with shaking hands, pointed it at the thick mahogany door, and gently pushed it open with my foot. My finger itched on the trigger.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Pushing the door aside, I was greeted by an unpleasant, but familiar, sight. The same darn PK'er that had killed me before. I muttered a breif thanks to Zamarok or whoever and pulled the trigger of the crossbow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hundreds of bolts screamed through the air towards the *** and was amazed to see every single one hit home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What I saw afterwards amazed me even more:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The PK'er just chuckled and turned round towards me, gently plucking all the bolts from his body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flinging the crossbow aside, I drew my recently purchased Mithril two hander and took up a defensive stance; if the damn pkÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢er wasnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t going to be killed by five hundred steel arrows, there wasnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t much chance of the sword doing much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But by Zamarok IÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢d at least have a go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The pkÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢er dashed forwards screaming, his scimitar head high above his head and brought it down where my face had been about a second ago. I laughed; this guy wasnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t as good as he used to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅYouÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢re losing it!ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Two chapters by me in a row. You lucky fellows (Smokeeagle)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While wiping the blood and puke off of my armour, there was a loud rumbling noise and the floor shook violently.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅWhat the hell is going on?ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Fine then, I will... :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Again, there was a great deal of light from all directions and standing in front of me, looking slightly bemused was SmokeEagle, who waved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅHey,ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.