The Advent

Hi all!

I re-edited the prologue and first chapter, because the prologue was boring, and when I re-edited it, I had to fix the first chapter so they went along together. It would be nice if you read and left feedback or something; many people don't, and I don't know if they liked it or not. Negative OR postive, either one will give me a heads up. So please, tell me what you think, and read the warning in red.

P.S. This story is LONG. So I seriously don't expect you to read ALL of this story. So, if you do end up reading the rest, Good. But I don't expect you to. Although some people have. \ and :thumbsup: Thanks guys!

Prologue

"The plan is coming along excellently. We shall slay the hero of the land, and eliminate his army, as well." The grim voice spoke with hatred, as he sat on his great throne in the dark castle. He was concealed in a purple robe, as his face concealed in helm of [bleep]es and demon horns. His disiples had only purple robes and spectoral hoods, each with a prayer book of Zamorak in hand, weapons on their backs. The voice continued:

"But It seems...Zamorak was right, for us to destory these lands, first. He told us that, as we ignored his commands, as the army in Varrok have anticipated our actions; now we will listen to him intently!" The voice slammed his fist in anger on his throne. "We dweal in the land in-between light and darkness; the Zamorak's lands, "In media raise lux in tenebris." Meaning "In the middle of light coming into darkness." Zamorak's unholy lands were always filled with death and hatred; Twilight, the land between light and darkness, will have more room...As soon as these lands, and these people that dweal within it, are killed." The voice lifted a part of his helm, to reveal his mouth. The grinning mouth revealed sharp, rotting teeth, as blood of dead men trickled down his throat.

"What kingdom do we attack first?" One of the warriors asked curiously.

"We don't attack any. I have a different plan in mind, for a diversion is coming. Using this diversion, some of us may also be able to enter the land of Edge, and destroy it's great monument."

"What do we accomplish there?" One of the monks furiously asked.

"We lure the armies of Varrok here, destroying them in the process.Now, split up the armies. Don't destroy the main kingdom; that comes last."

"What of the hero?"

"He will obviously come with the armies. I'm going to let him tred these lands to this kingdom, were I will kill him myself, for after what we do to Edge, they will foolhardedly come here. There will be no saving grace for this kingdom...

"So, you know the plans---Get out of my sight and execute them. I have buisiness of my own." The warriors walked out of the dark throne room, leaving the king to himself.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 1: Edge

"Fienrir!" The young prince shouted at the man in blood-red armor. Fienrir quickly turned around to see the young Prince Roald, in golden trimmed wizard armor, holding a Saradomin prayer book and a large staff. "I finally caught up to you!" Roald was panting very hard.

"YouÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢re not very physically fit at all." Fienrir said sharply. Fienrir laughed, Roald wheezed and panted, trying to laugh, too.

"I haven't seen you in..." Roald started to count with his fingers, still panting hard, "I think two months... Even in this amount of time, you've become even more heroic in all of the land!"

"You've said enough." Fienrir though it was funny how a prince, especially Roald, a young and spoiled prince, admired an outsider such as he. But sometimes he understood; the prince had to stay home and learn how to be like a king, and could never leave the castle, unless he was going with a guard. Fienrir always volunteered. He liked Roald, and to be friends with him meant he wouldn't have to treat him any different from any other person in the land. At least, thatÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s what Roald told him.

"I'm sorry that I'm excited...But being one of my only adventurous friends, I like to hear whatÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s going on in the outside world." So Fienrir told him. He told him of the mighty Dust Devils, the Kalphinite Queen, the Lesser and Greater demons, and the other dangerous monsters that he killed in cold blood. He even told him of the uprising of the Zamorak warriors.

He thought for a second, and was partially reluctant in saying anything of the Zamorak warriors; especially of the sabotage missions that he had undergone. But Roald had heard rumors of these things, and told Fienrir not to worry about getting in trouble. The two young men looked into the horizon to see a small, yet very clear view of the big city of Edge.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When they both arrived into the town, they immediately looked around for any rare and valuable items, such as amulets, armor of any type, and some food. Fienrir grabbed as much food and beer that his pack could hold, and Roald came back with nothing but a small, black amulet.

"What's this!ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

interesting is there a sequel?

Actually, the story is still going...For a little while more. If you find this post...Cool. I'm gonna write more soon.

Chapter 9: The Advent

"How do we get through?" Fienrir glanced at one of the warriors nearby, who was completely in awe due to the massive twilight rays of the gates. "It looks nearly impassible, yet we could probably break through---"

"We don't break through! Such idiocy will cause death!" Fienrir angrily replied at the man.

"Then what do we do?" Roald quickly said.

"We open it with an anctient Saradominian prayer...Then, an anctien Zamorakian spell." The warrior's around him broke into conversation. "You may think that it's impossible, but it's not. Roald, I need your help."

"Why me?" Roald declared.

"With your skill combined with mine, we can prove to Saradomin and the sages above that we are worthy can come to the golden lands."

"But what are we proving to Zamorak?" Fienrir paused, and drew his sword. He replied: "We prove to him that we are not afraid. His army has pledged loyalty to him and only him,and that's how they got through. By Zamorak's power of temporary destabilizing the door. We are coming through by Zamorak." Roald smiled, and pulled his staff and prayer book out, and gestured the other warriors to keep whatch. Fienrir, his sword drawn, cleared the way of all of the spires that blocked his way of the Oracle.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Walking through this cave must have given the old man a back ache, Fienrir thought to himself. The cave was starting to get cooler, as his breath was appearing every time he took in air. But he had to speak to the oracle one last time before departing to Vad'Idlien, for he was the only one who could help.

"It seems the path you tread is dangerous indeed, eh?" A voice proclaimed in the mere distance. "You've come for more advice...I have none, boy. But I had to tell you something anyway. Oh, yes. Now come here." A hand touched Fienrir's shoulder. Startled, he quickly spun around and saw a warm fire, the same set up as the mountain cave was. "Sit, my boy." He immediatley obeyed and sat down, as quick as he could. Clearing his throat, the Oracle began:

"Good battle, indeed. Yes, it was a long fight, but you made it through okay. Sikie came back, and you nearly got killed on that deal, huh? Well, let's just say that he was an illusion beyond your belief. I've never seen such power, the power of ressurection that could manifest a body...The only power I have ever seen, enabling the mightiest to do that, is the power of Twilight."

"The power of Twilight?" Fienrir jumped. "What is this?"

"Well, a long time ago, Saradomin and the sages above wanted to create a realm so powerful that it could be of use to the Advent. Don't nod your head boy, look at me! Were was I? Oh yes, the Advent. The Advent was a prediction of Saradomin that was thought to be the savior of the land, the savior that would stop all evil, and end Zamorak's control over people. Over time, the sages went to develop the man in through their own eyes; A man that would strive to be at the top. I believe, Fienrir, that this prediction has finally been incarnated."

"You do? Whom?"

"You." Fienrir's face dropped, as it stiffened and became calm, he stuttered: "M-me? Why me?"

"I don't know."Fienrir thought for a second, then slowly asked:

"What is going to happen to me when I open the Twilight gates?"

"The sages entrusted me with the power of prediction, not the power of choice. I cannot see what is going to happen to you after you open the twilight gates. You are faced with decisions, as I said, that will lead to your destiny. Wether you turn good or evil, Saradomin has placed the power within you. The spirit of Fenrir, the sacred wolf. I will tell you more of this later. But I must ask you. You looked confused, like you had awoken from a bad dream and couldn't believe what you had seen."

"I did." Fienrir paused, then quietly said: "I think I have memories of my past...The past that I cannot remember. I remembered the order of Zamorak, and I killed them all because I refused to kill my loved one's. They tricked me, and I destroyed them. I...Felt as though I didn't have a place here."

"Fienrir," the Oracle began "You saw Twilese memories. These are memories from the Zamorakian warrior that was destroyed, in this case, Sickie. You killed him once, correct? Well, do you remember him striking you dow? Was it not Reldo who saved you? Well, as he was killed the first time, his soul had 'enhanced twilight', as we call it. They become rejuvinated, and revive. When they die, the Twilight devours them. This is their dark promise to the twilight realm." Fienrir's face filled with despair upon this remark. " I see despair, because you know that you walk that path to that realm. Fienrir, we should talk about the twilight path again.

"You chose this path because you wanted to become strong, just as the sages and Saradomin predicted. The dreams are there because the soul of Sikie is fused within you. Can you not feel the weight on your fingers?" Fienrir looked. He was right! Two rings were stuck to his index finger's. "Those are the signs of the Advent. Fienrir, now do you believe?" Fienrir nodded. He was right: He actually heard old folklore about the Advent, and Saradomin blesses the people with these gifts.

"I...Can't believe it..." Fienrir started at the amazing beauty of the rings.

"Let us get back to the hidden beast within you, Fenrir. You see, a long time ago, Saradomin had stopped a rampage of a beast known as Fenrir, a mythical beast that destroyed half of the land and killed countless people. He proclaimed that he would lock it away within a soul of purity, and promised control over it when the Advent was chosen. With those rings, Fienrir, you have control of Fenrir. You also have the ability to take in Zamorakian souls and their memories and become stronger...But with power comes pain. When you saw the dream, it was not you. It was Sikie's memory, and as you relive it once, you have the choice of looking back on it for future references." Fienrir made a gesture of happiness. "But to all of this...Is a catch, for a new darkness sleeps within you." Fienrir's happiness turned to impurity. "What?"

"The new darkness...Saradmoin predicted that the soul would be blesssed with control, but the rings would symbolize a trial for the Advent. Yes, they make you stronger, also locking the Zamorakian souls within them. The prediction was 'The Advent's soul would be blessed with purity, ring with ring to save the land. But if Fenrir meets Fenrir, then the world will turn to fury.'" Fienrir thought for a split-second, then said:

"My heart is Fenrir. But I don't understand the rest. Does it mean that I only have half of Fenrir's soul?"

"No; you have both. Remember what I said, I don't know how you released such power without both soul halves. That's for you to figure out." Fienrir bowed his head. "I have control over Fenrir, but my other entity?"

"Again...I don't know when your other entity will be released...But you'll have to face it on your own." The echoes of their voices trailed off, as Fienrir though deeply, but it was quickly interupted by the Oracle: "Tell me, do you remember your true name?" Fienrir slowly lifted his head up, locking his eyesight with the Oracles'. "You are...Interested, no? Yes, I don't know your true name, but you will discover it. But remember mine: Tiresias."

"A true name, Ora---I mean, Tiresias. You cannot see beyond choice...But tell me; do you think, in the end...Will I live or die?" Tiresias thought for a brief moment, then happily proclaimed: "I believe in you. Ultimatley, the God's and the Sages predicted death, but I know you will live."

"Thank-you again, Tiresias. I will never forget your kindness; I must begone now." Fienrir exited the cave, swiftly and stealthy like, as he heard the last words of Tiresias: "Remember, your fear is only courage within darkness..."

nice, but I'm confused a bit on the soul thingy

Whenever a Zamorakian warrior is killed once, Twilight contains that soul and makes it strong. But when the Zamorakian is killed again, the soul lingers until the Advent is enabled to take the soul into the rings. Basically, one ring will contain souls and the other will contain memories of the Zamorakian's, making Fienrir stronger. That's why he remembered all of those memories.

Thank you for saying that. I re-edited the story, so you can re-read it if you want.

better, thank you!

thats a really good story and heaps long i wonder wat to kill count for the barbs were :?: :?: :

Chapter 10: Fienrir's Odyssey

"Are you ready, Fienrir?"

"You better believe it, Roald!" Fienrir shouted back to Roald. Both of them were standing on the opposite ends of the gates, their hands held out and ready to open them. Roald was already beggining to pray; Fienrir prepared his spell. After a minute, Fienrir began to recite the anctient, zamorakian spell:

Sureyse hivityian hontusyctua viticus kurystimo luhiro nruti dinomeo

joven. Nostru gontur treve sia vectum tridduum kajieaz zuritle gohistafar

lokcyn sidan kindla Entrana; nositcus Laviticas; sontreu Vad'Idlien;

Vuyste hjuinn cvves des nostrue lazku!

A quake. Roald kept praying, and the doors slowly opened, revealing a grassy field of golden flowers and great waters. The crowd cheered.

"Certainly a strange transition...From darkness to prosperity, no? I guess that's why they call it the golden lands!" Roald happily declared. Fienrir gestured everyone to go, but waited to go last.

"You certainly are a handful." Fienrir slowly lifted his head. His intuition was correct: Cell.

"What the Hell do you want?" Fienrir solemnly declared.

"I'm back...For vengeance. You've taken Sikie's soul, and I curse you and wish you eternal damnation; but the Twilight has granted me strenth, so it is time for you to dissapear!" Fienrir chuckled, saying in the process:

"You know, patience is a virtue. Yet, I'm impatient for the Twilight to take you away, too."

"What, so you can gain my power? That isn't going to happen!" He shouted, swiftly coming behind Fienrir and stabbing him in the chest, then kicking him off of his knife.

"What the---How did you...Damn Twilight." He reached for his sword, but it wasn't in it's regular sheathe. My dragon sword!

You've no need for it. Nor your armor; it is useless, because your power is infinite, Advent.

Saradomin? He thought, watching his armor sink into him.

"Well, well. That's unfortunate." He took out a blade, stained with blood, then charged him. Fienrir could only hold his hand in an attempt to catch the blade...

He heard a clash of two swords meeting. He could feel the large quacks of Cell, as he could feel his blade crack.

"What? Were did that blade come from?" Fienrir opened his eyes, as he held a blade, no more than siz feet in length and one foot in width, shining brilliantly like the pure ore's of the rare platnium. For this is what the blade was made of: Platnium. Fienrir admired the blade's amazing luster, and re-prepared himself for a fight. He also saw he wasn't wearing his regular armor, but a leather jacket, and black pants, but he knew he would be swifter and stronger than ever!

"Looks like this is a fair fight." Fienrir declared.

"No! I will still annhiallate you!" He drew his rune battleaxe, and charged in. Fienrir parryed the slash with no trouble, striking Cell down in an instant. Cell bled, his chest cut open with a large scar of defeat. "No...No..." Cell melted away, his soul slowly coming into the rings that Fienrir held.

You see, you need no armor. Nor do you need a blade like that dragon. You now hold before you a Platnium blade, stronger than dragon or any other metal. If you are strong enough to wield that blade, as you just did, you are the Advent.

Fienrir listened to the voice of Saradomin, putting the blade into a sheathe that rested on his back. Taking a last look at the wastelands, he walked into the gates, as thy slowly closed behind him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fienrir couldn't believe it. The lands were as they were told in folklore; fields and fields of flowers colored of gold, and rivers of pure water. His men awaited him at the entrance; all of them saw that he didn't have any dragon armor, but he showed them the sword and what happened. All of them sighed with awe. "Fienrir, what is the first of our destinations?"

"Our first? Well, Telythemus, the kingdom of warriors, We'll freshen up there, and we'll plan there with the king, we can conference with him. After, we fight." The warriors all shouted a fierce cry, and started to march towards the kingdom in the horizon. Fienrir thought's racing through his mind, could only think of his Odyssey he had with Saradomin.

"To Telythemus!"

Thanks, Zipper! Actually, the story will keep going for a little while, but it's almost done. If you really want to know the kill count, it was an entire army...So over 300. \

I'm sorry but I got confused again! Is that Fienrir's current sword? and those two rings? Seikie (?) and cell?

ooooo 300 =D> =D> =D>

:lol: I'm sorry about that, Xewleer. Well, you have to remember the fight of Edge, when the dome fell, and Sikie and Cell stopped Fienrir from proceding to the battle. He fought Sikie that night (Chapter 7: Pain and Vengeance) and destroyed his regular form. That night, he also killed Cell's regular form. Then, before they entered the gates, Sikie's "Twilit" form nearly killed Fienrir, but Reldo saved him (Chapter 8: Unfufilled Memories). Before Fienrir entered the gates, he let all of his men go, but he knew he had to face Cell, so he stayed and battled Cell's "Twilit" form. Saradmoin, in the chapter, said that he no longer needed dragon armor, because he was powerful enough, and no longer needed his Dragon sword, because his "Advent Form" is at full strenth, and gives him a godly sword. The rings were explained in chapter 9...Once he destroys a Zamorakian, there memories and souls are manifested into Fienrir's rings (By the way, Fienrir is pronounced like this: [Fayn Rear]) and he gains power from the Zamorakian's soul and memories. He also has to relive the memories (Explained in next chapters!)

Hope this helps! :thumbsup:

Chapter 11: Argarok

What luster can the starts hold here? The sky here shoes no boundaries...

Fienrir quietly thought this to himself, as the troops rested by a nearby water hole. He was keeping gaurd, awaiting any unwelcome guests that may tread by. He knew none would come, though; Who else would make it past the Twilight gates? I suppose Zamorakian's. Fienrir chuckled, looking at the kingdom that lay in the distnace. He saw the city, lit up, as it shined a goldish aura; he admired the dazzling beauty, an though of what he might do when he initially got there.

I really need to speak with the king of Telythemus...

"Refusing to sleep, eh Fienrir?" Startled, Fienrir drew his sword and spun around, turning his lantern on as fast as he possibly could, only to see king Syrese, grinning.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Fienrir laughed aloud, withdrawing his sword.

"I'm have only awakened to see what you were doing!" Right, Fienrir thought to himself, I forgot he came along!

"Oh---right. Well, just staring off at the distance, looking at the sky...The usual things I like to do. But I'm really anxious to see what the kingdom beholds before us. Just look at it sparkle."

"Look at the sky." Fienrir glanced over to Syrese, as he was wide eyed and jaw dropped, pointing at the up coming red sky. "You know what they say about red sky's at night?"

"Red sky at night, sailor's delight?"

"No, you idiot! It is a sign of the reaper. It is written in blood in the old scrolls which tell us the anctient past of Runescape."

"Oh, right...Verekuzan ashikia ias viuntias corlos juvani solokia, Jushaty fuvak tereture restupar covituan kolostino jortokuc Sihjui duis. Blood will be spilled on this day, the reaper will torture these souls in Twilit ray..."

"Smart boy!" Syrese exclaimed happily.

"But that can only mean---"

The ground violently quacked.

"Peculiar..." Syrese looked over at the kingdom's vast shadow. "Damn, the kingdom's being attacked!" Syrese took out his horn, blowing it, immediatley signaling the men to come out.

"No..." Fienrir drew his sword and began to run towards the kingdom.

"Fienrir, no!" Fienrir refused to listen to Syrese's plea.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Explosions. Fire. Impaled people. Hell.

Fienrir ran through the massacred city, as he saw giant rat's feast on the flesh of dead people. Why would anyone do something like this? He drew his blade, preparing for the rough battle.

"Please...Help me..." Fienrir saw a nearby man, a crown of thorns rested on his head, as his wrists were jolted to the walls, blood trickling down his head and arms.

"Are...You the king?" Fienrir ran to him, tending to his wounds.

"Stop...Please...Leave me alone..." Fienrir tugged at the stakes that were impaling his wrists. "Please...Don't make them tighter..." Fienrir knew his life would no longer last. He got up, leaving the suffering king behind.

"NO!" The blood curtling screem ran through Fienrir's ears, as he saw a dagger in the old man's heart. Frightned, Fienrir ran to the very edge of a hole in the kingdom walls, only to see millions of massacred bodies of men, women, and children. Babies were shown no mercy, either; each infant was impaled on a stake. Fienrir glanced at the other sides of the battlefields, only to see the Zamorak warriors finishing the lives of some of the fighting men.

Rage started to consume Fienrir, as his hands twitched, Fienrir fell into the confines of memory...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"The ordeal is almost over!" He happily said to the men in purple robes. "We now need to kill those poor little remnents over there, and we'll be able to join!" He happily exclaimed. He drew his dagger, awaiting the young women, both trying to keep warm on the cold winter's day.

"One...Two...Three!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"NO!"

Fienrir awoke from his trance, panting and spitting blood at the ground. His hands were still twitching, and he was still consumed with rage.

"What's...Happening to me?" His hands stared to shake uncontrolably. Visions of death ran through his mind. He panted harder, trying to stop his rage...

Your under...My control now.

Fienrir got up, blade in hand.

As your true soul lingers in darkness...I will take control...

No you won't, Argarok!

"What's the use of fighting back?" Argarok said. Fienrir shuffled around, looking for the voice.

"You...You are the entity Tiresias spoke of! Argarok..." Fienrir swung his sword aroung, hoping to hit something, "I will kill you!"

"You think a man can face a demon?" Fienrir stopped slahing. What? he thought. "That's right, and if you really want to take me on..." The darkness in his mind dissipated, and he now stood in a hall of Granite, flames running along the walls. In front of Fienrir, a demon with one wing stood. The wing was burnt, but it was gargantuan, as the other was never there. His appearence was hideous; his left half of his face was burnt, the other was red. Long, black hair ran down his waist, hiding a curved katana blade and three daggers.

"Argarok...You will perish under my blade!"

"I don't think so...Because here, I make the rules. I make the structure anything i want." He snapped his fingers, automatically burning the granite into oblivion, bringing them to the battlefield. "In here...I'm a God." Argarok melted away into the ground, as Fienrir chraged him, missing completely. Argarok didn't. Fienrir keeping a look out for the demon, was stabbed behind his back, and the demon flung him off of his sword. "Had enough?" The demon held out his katana.

"I'm just getting started!" Fienrir grabbed his sword off of the ground, and the demon effortlessly parried his attacks. As did Fienrir, and the demon raised his hand. "Fuosj-"

"No you don't!" Fienrir threw his blade at the demon, and hit him in the chest. Fienrir charged, seeing the moment to finish him, and drove the blade deeper into his chest.

"This...Isn't over! I'll...Kill you later!" The demon screamed, flames engulfed his body in an easy escape. Fienrir collapsed.

wonder what happens next :ohnoes:

Cool demon!

Chapter 12: The Reaper

"Wake up, dammit!" Fienrir shot awake, nearly knocking over King Syrese, whom was standing next to him. "Thank th sages...He's awake!" The warrior's sighed with relief. They all looked beaten and worn out, as they had to defeat the Zamorakians that went to the front gate. Rising with sword in hand, rage burned as if the fire's of Hell started to slowly cremated his body. Mumbling a few curses and swears, he looked around him. Walls collapsed. Fire raged in many open area's. Rubble of the citadel everywere, some of the walls still crumbling.

Even the fields, which were once green, were burned to oblivion.

"Why would anyone, even with hearts of darkness, be sinister enough to do this?" He slowly approached the hole in one part of the broken citadel; the scent of flesh quickly tickled his nose, making him sick to the stomach. Relief came upon him, though, when he saw the courageous men of Telythemus still fighting. Although they contained valor, they were still outnumbered. But he knew they wouldn't give up; they want to protect the land that took them so long to build.

"What should we do?" King Syrese looked around his men, a face of violence had overtaken it. "These warriors have the advantage, for they have ransacked this citadel, and murdered it's great leader. Valor nor hope no longer lives in this place; only the face of evil. Light has left this place, too; now, twilight and darkness have formed together, and anguish will fall upon the dead souls if we do not drive these sorcerers out. So I say, if we die...IF we die, then we might be able to stand against the reaper of souls, protecting the poor infants and children and Valorous men they vanquished! I also say, if we are to protect the rest of this land, then we must fight to protect it, even if it means being eternally tortured." The king wipped out his two blades, one being a sword made of pure blurite ore, the other being a legendary sword passed down by Saradomin from Genesis of the land, Silverlight.

Fienrir looked at his blade, and his left hand twicthed. Rage still burned inside of his soul, and he knew he would have to quell it through battle. He stepped towards the ledge of the massive hill from which the castle stood, raising his sword. "Remember, this isn't just for this one kingdom; it's for Vad'Idlien. If we fall, Vad'Idlien falls, and we become one with Twilight. So remember this: Fight with Valor, and may Saradomin protect you!" The warriors raised their shields and weapons, letting out a battle-cry of feriocety, as the Zamorakians saw them, preparing themselves for a fight.

"Archers, string your bows! Wizards, prepare your spells! Devout's, pray for victory!" Fienrir paused, then yelled: "Warriors, obliterate these damn demons!" The Battle-cry was released again, as the soldiers bravely marched into the deadly battle; the archer's strung their bows'; the sorcerers began to take runes out; the devouts prayed with their heart for protection. Everything was as it should be.

Except the sky.

Fienrir was the only warrior not to leave the hill. Even Syrese left; but Fienrir was looking at the sky. The smogged ridden sky was forming into a black darkness; then forming into a deadly Twilight. It began to form together, and a figure started to descend from the sky.

Fienrir ran towards the destination were the figure was descending, making it to the spot just before it touched the ground. Fienrir's eyes grew with fear, as his rage built up even more at the same time.

The Grim Reaper.

The Reaper was completely cloaked in a red and black robe, his arms and legs were covered, too. As his face was covered in a spectoral hood, generating drarkness so it would shield his face. The Reaper slowly reched for his [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] that rested upon his back. He looked up; he had a gastly breathing patterns. He laughed an evil laugh, chilling Fienrir's bones, but increasing his rage furthermore.

"What's this..." He began to speak, "This cannot be...You are still alive, when your body should be impaled or burned, and your soul should be wandering these grand battle fields, but instead, you live. I'm quite suprised. You've outlasted these trained warriors. Pitiful that I must take these souls away; every man, woman, infant...It does not matter. Every one of them will be tortured the same!" He laughed the hideous laugh again. Fienrir clutched his blade, anger pouring onto it.

That's right, let your anger be released...Let it be, and I'll show you the true meaning of pain!

Fienrir felt a sensation of pain in his body, as a dark aura circled his body. Pain burned Fienrir's body, as he collapsed to the ground. He clutched his sword...

The pain ceased.

He looked up, and only saw the reaper, but with a Twilit aura around him.

"Now, I shall finish you off!" Fienrir recognized the sinister voice.

"Argarok!" Fienrir clutched his blade, preparation for battle.

"You aren't stupid after all. Now, feel the true meaning of pain!" He held out his hand, as his blade materialized on his right hand, and he clutched his [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] in the other. Then, a single wing tore out of the reapers back. Fienrir grunted:

"Being a coward behind a puppet or just fighting me one on one, you would meet the same end, anyway!"

"We'll see about that!" Argarok charged in after him, swiftly swinginh his [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] and blade. Fienrir barely dodged the blade, parrying the [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] in a close call, too. Fienrir retailiated with a kick, as Argarok fell back, grunting. Fienrir striked again, jumping in the air, slicong the hood off. Fienrir quacked with terro. Under the hood, a head of a rotten skull, burnt, torn, blood ridden and cracked. The reapers eyes were crazed red, showing Argarok's control over him.

"Damn infedel!" Argarok rushed him, doing another double slice. This time, Fienrir doged both slashes and attempted to stab him, Argarok dodging it with ease. Fienrir charged him, at this time, only to get slashed onto the ground, blood pouring out of his mouth.

"Damn---" Fienrir spat out blood.

"Give up," Argarok exclaimed "Without rage, you cannot win. Rage is the one source of energy that drives a person, and I am your rage! Without me, you are nothing but an insignificant worm!" Argarok jumped next to Fienrir's injured body, holding the [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation] to his neck. "Without rage, you are no Advent."

"I may not have rage," Fienrir panted heavily "But I do have Fenrir!" Fienrir rose and slashed Argarok.

"What!?" Argarok landed on his feet, as he watched Fienrir concentrate.

Fenrir, I'm calling your energy! Fuse your strenth with mine, so we may be one!

Fienrir's hands started to twitch uncontrollably, as he saw the wolf's eyes concentrating on him, and a rush of energy burst through his body.

"No! I cannot let this happen!" Argarok charged in. Fienrir only regained his footing, holding up his blade in a defense against Argarok. Fienrir closed his eyes. Thank-you, Fenrir. He felt an impact hit his blade. He opened his eyes, to see the face of the Reaper, furious and malicious:

"No! You shall perish!" He started to slash him, as Fienrir parried each blow thrown with ease. "It is not me that shall perish; it is you and that accursed reaper!" Fienrir slashed the [Caution: Jagex Rule Violation], breaking it in two. With unbelievable speed, he began to slah Argarok, as he was unable to block any of them. The last impact of Fienrir's sword knocked Argarok to the ground.

"Time to die!" Fienrir jumped up in the air, driving the blade into the chest of the demon's puppet.

"NO!" The cry of the demon shook the battle field, as the red eyes of the reaper's body slowly dissapeared. As Fienrir saw the aura go away, he removed his blade from the chest, and the body of the reaper disintegrated.

This isn't over yet!

Fienrir felt a sharp pain, as the red aura encircled his body, and the demon reformed within his body.

It's over when I say it is!

Fienrir felt a jolt of pain again.

Huh? What are you?

Pitiful demon. You look at the sacred wolf, Fenrir!

One last jolt of pain, then a screech within his soul shook his body, and he collapsed.

You will perish!

One last shock was felt.

No! I cannot die...I never will!

You may never die, but you are quelled, demon. I place a curse upon you, were you may never come out...Unless rage covers Fienrir's heart once more!

Fienrir slowly opened his eyes.

Chapter 13: The Silver Sky

He had awakened, but he didn't know were he was. He stood in the middle of the battlefield, not even close to were he fought the Reaper. Looking around his perimeter, he saw the lifeless bodies of the Zamorakians litered around him. His sword was stabbed into a nearby Zamorakian; it was blood covered, but the blade's sheen was still there. Quickly, he removed the blade from the warrior, as blood trickled from the blade, and blood gushed from the dead man's body. As he searched for his army, from miles upon miles, bodies were freshly litered. He finally realized this war was far from over, as he looked up into the broad, blue sky.

Fienrir began to walk towards the horizon of the broken citadel, as he heard cheers of victory and joy, for all of the warriors survived, none being dead. Grinning, he walked up the steep hill in his pace, listening to the speech of Roald:

"Praise Saradmoin, dear freinds! We made it through, though it seems, the true warrior, whom fought and killed a deadly entity and killing the army of Zamorak...Is gone---"

"Really, Roald? Or did something give you the illusion that I did?" Frightened, the soldiers shifted their view towards Fienrir, whom stood outside of the blow hole of the castle's great wall. A sudden rush of relief pulsed through Roald:

"Fienrir! Again, praise Saradomin you are safe! Our prayers have been heard!"

"Sounds more like you were trying to give me a Rest in Peace speech." Roald grinned, as Fienrir laughed, and the other warriors joined in on the joyful moment.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Well, the dead are resting, the reaper is gone...The sky is as clear as a diamond. Such peacful words were said today, gentlemen." Fienrir raised his beer glass high in the air, "We kept our promise of helping the dead, and we always will. So I propose a toast to the Zamorakians...May the burn eternally in one of the hottest places any man can step into, Hell!" Laughter came upon the men, as they toasted and drank, preparing themselves for what's to come. Fienrir, however, noticed a twinkling light upon a hill.

"Sorry, guys. I have to go...Get rest, all of you, and if I'm not back by day break...May you all journey well to the next kingdom."

"Fienrir," Reldo began, "Take this map and mark which kingdom is next." Another person I forgot about. Poor Reldo. Chuckling, he pointed out: "Verquizan, the city of Light." Reldo, studying the spot, slowly wlked away, formuating a path. Fienrir stepped upon the hill. He knew who he was to talk to: Tiresias.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"So we meet again, eh Fienrir?" Tiresias bowed to him, as Fienrir made his way towards him. "Praise the Advent, as he quelled the devious Grim Reaper, and destroyed the army of Zamorak in the night of Twilit hour."

"I need to speak to you again..." Fienrir sat on a nearby stone formation.

"I know. Let me explain what you must do next---"

"No...Not yet." Tiresias looked confounded. "Tell me...I destroyed those Zamorakians in their twilit forms, but now what? I need to know."

"I can help you, for you know as much as I do, you must relive those memories in order to gain more power. Listen to what I say, and you shall be back down the hill with your fellow knights drinking again." Laughing, he pointed up to the sky:

"You destroyed the Reaper on twilit hour; as the Zamorakians stepped into this, they knew if they were to die, they would perish. None were destoryed by Telythemus' men; no, each and everyone was inflicted with the greater pain by Argarok. But something happened, even I never knew would happen: Fenrir obeyed it's host. Now, he obeys you, as you are the master. He quelled the demon for you, but at the same time, Argarok took control of you and killed the Zamorak warriors, because if his thoughts were only his next reawakening.

"So, he began, but Fenrir defended you, and locked him deep within your soul...But more importantly, locked his powers away in the Amulet of Fenrir that is strung around your neck. So if you are to be enraged, the amulet would release the powers of Rage into that Demon and he will make you his "Puppet," if you will. All of this is symbolism to the clear sky that shines a luster of sillver. Symbolism to this land, and symbolism to you.

"The symbolism is power engulfed by rage, but then being set free by a hidden courage that rests inside of you. Your pure energy, your power, was engulfed by fury, as you were angered by the Reaper, and Argarok was released. You fought him, defeating him with your hidden courage, fenrir. You spoke to him and wanted him to bind your powers with his, and he was obediant. Argarok attempted to take control, but Fenrir gave it back to you. Now, you stand here, looking at the silver sky, the sky that was created by you." Fienrir looked at the silverly light of the sky, the beauty of it was blinding alone; yet there was an aura that signaled peace within those that were dead, almost as if they were thanking Fienrir.

"Tell me, Tiresias. Shall I relive those memories, or not?"

"No; it seems as though you already did." Fienrir was confounded by this statement. "Allow me, again. Did you feel pain as you were controlled by Argarok?" Fienrir nodded his head. "Well, Fienrir...The pain alone was the memories, although you thought it may have been Fenrir and Argarok fighting. The pain must have symbolized a terrible happening that envoked the pain. The memories must have flashed---And now, you have the power." Fienrir nodded, as he said:

"You do not dissapoint."

"Fienrir, m'boy...Good luck."

Fienrir got up, a thought struck him: "Thank you for not telling me what I must do next." Tiresias nodded, as he said:

"Fienrir, wake up."

Chapter 14: Liberi Fatali

"Wake up!"

"It's hopeless...He'll probably be knocked out for another ten hours for all we know." The man angrily stomped.

"Calm down."

"Calm down? father, the armies of the accursed Zamorak are creeping ever so close! We cannot hope to stand a chance without a field commander!" Fienrir pretended to stay asleep, listening to the rest of the conversation:

"As much as it pains me to say it, but...You are right. We don't stand a chance without Fienrir. But here me out: we need our best wizards to reawaken him at this hour, or he might never---" Fienrir shot up. "Wake up?" Fienrir's eyes were blurry, but he adjusted to this new sensation; he now realized that the angry man was Roald, now blushed and asshmed of being angered; and king Syrese, who was grinning, happy that Fienrir was awake. "You see, Roald? He has awakened." Roald plopped back onto the chair, shuffling it closer.

"Wha...What? Were am I?" Fienrir was a bit worried of his location. Last I remember, I was climbing down the hill away from Tiresias.

"You are in the medical wing of the castle that rests within the kingdom of Verquizan." Fienrir jumped in shock:

"I told Reldo to go to Veriquizan! I wasn't halucinating...But how did I become unconsious?"

"No...You were still halucinating..." Roald laughed. " As for you becoming unconcious... After you saw the bodies around you, you were...Shocked. You threw up some blood, fainted, and you had a minor seizure. So we picked you up and traveled for a full day or so...If we hadn't arrived here in a day's time, you would be dead. Now, during your unconsiousness, you were talking to yourself...Sounded like you were "Talking" to a man named Tiresias, as you asked him a few questions, then said good-bye and other farewells. " Fienrir sighed with relief, as he plopped his head against his soft pillow. At least they got me here in time...But I really felt as though I spoke with Tiresias...

"The doctor said if you woke up, you had a couple of hours to get re-situated, then you could move around and do the stuff you love to do." Roald rose from his chair.

"Indeed. But...There's a catch." Fienrir's face filled with worry. "Do not fear...Okay, you can cower a little if you want." King Syrese let out a soft chuckle, then continued: "As you can imagane...The Zamorakinas plan to obliterate this Citadel as well." Fienrir's face filled with hatred, as he blurted out:

"Dammit! They're coming this way, aren't they?" King Syrese's head drooped down. "Those damned..." Fienrir's face became cleared away of the hate. "I must seek counsel with the king of this land!" Syrese jerked his head up in suprise, as he excitedly said:

"Great! He anticipated that. He has already set up counsel with you; he thinks you could lead our troops into victory, so thank the sages and Saradmoin for waking you!" Syrese rose from his seat. "Roald and I will leave you to recover at this point. Remember this: in two hours, walk straight down the hallway until you meet a granite staircase. State your name to the gaurds, and they will let you through."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"What be your buisiness here, warrior from the South?" The gaurd gripped his blade's handle tighter, in case he would have to combat against him.

"My name is Fienrir, and I was schedualed a conference with the king." The gaurd dropped his gaurd. Fienrir walked up, suddenly pulling the man's arm back in a disarm manuever. "You should know never to let your gaurd down." Fienrir released the man's arm.

"Very well. Lesson learned. You may pass." The gaurd grinned grimly. Fienrir stepped up to the massive door structure, as two other gaurds pulled it open. Fienrir was amazed at the architecture of the inside: the Chandilier's were made of pure diamonds and swarvorski crystals, as they glinted and shone in the fire's twinkling light; the halls were made of pure granite and gold, with a single red carpet down the center, leading to the kings chair. The king awaited him near the middle of the hallway.

"You must be Fienrir!" The king walked up and held out his hand, "It is very nice to meet a knight of your calibur!"

"Your highness, it is impolite for you to walk towards me---"

"Oh, negate that rule! For someone who is a great strategist like yourself, I must be the one to welcome you." The king put his arms around Fienrir's shoulder, leading him back to the throne room's chair.

"Oh---Your highness. I don't want to be rude, but what is your name?" Fienrirgulped. He didn't want to anger the king.

"Oh, how rude of me!" The king climbed back to his throne. As he sat down, his face became more noble and serious, and his voice deepend as he proclaimed: "I am King Daphnes Verquizan Vad'Idlien; you look at the ruler of Vad'Idlien itself." Fienrir gasped, nearly falling on his back. "Yes...Now we must discuss the matters of the war. It seem my brother---May his soul rest in peace---" He stopped, and began a silent meidtation prayer. Fienrir joined him. He quickly raised his head, as he spoke in a sorrowful voice: "It truly angers me when an army of a dark lord must come and destroy everything. We were a peacful land, and never had to prepare for battle. But I said 'Train troops, just in case.' I was right! Now, through all of the suffering that we have endured, the losses of massive amounts of people in Vad'Idlien...Is now making this land barren and full of death. We, Fienrir, are the only remaining kingdom standing." Fienrir listened intently in the old man's words.

"King Vad'Idlien...Your other bretheren are dead? This land was said to contain the five kingdom's of light...You tell me, now, Verquizan is the last one remaining?" Fienrir heated up with rage. "This...Cannot...Be..." He bowed his head.

Calm down, or you will feel more than just pain!

The growl of Fenrir echoed through his mind, as he cooled down.

"There is not much more we can do...Sorrow has come upon me many times before, dealing with the deaths of my brothers and sisters. But this is worse."

"What is wrong?"

"The city was ransacked the other night, by men in purple robes, as they stole the children of the kingdom!" Fienrir gasped in horror.

"The children of the main kingdom of Vad'Idlien---Saradomin prophisized them to be the---"

"Liberi Fatali. The Children of Fate." The king's eye's began to fill with tears.

"Saradomin blessed those children with a gift...Known only as Lux in Tenebris...The children's gift of Light coming into Darkness. The only source of power that can oppose Twilight...Lunebris."

"Saradomin blessed this kingdom and the children within it. The children

were the only one's with that power...But thos menaces stole them, so what do they plan to do with them? I don't understand! Won't the children eminate the power of Lunebris?"

"No." Fienrir declared. "There is a scripture that speaks of these words...

Liberi Fatali, foriuzan hiuyfj Verquizan, Varghuyd vastuin Lunebris.

Dusfirtoz cokujher Twilight houdesr Lunebris, guhyni soven justa Vad'Idlien vejk gauwn Zamorak."

Fienrir paused. Remembering what it meant, he continued:

"It means...The children of fate, resting within Verquizan, will be blessed with Lunebris. But if Twilight crosses Lunebris, the land of Vad'Idlien will fall to Zamorak." Fienrir's heart felt like it had been stabbed with a stake, and his soul be overtaken by shadow.

"We cannot...Fight. We must surrender. At least they will let the children go free." King Vad'Idlien dried up his tears.

"No. I know how the Zamorakian's work. They want you to do that. The only thoughts that run through their petty minds is to please Zamorak. Zamorak's scripture always reads the one prayer they do before battle:

Kill the strong, Kill the weak. Kill the Young, Kill the Old. Even if WE

don't, they will all meet the same, untimely end; an eternity of suffering

within Twilight."

"How do you know of such things?" The king bitterly said.

"The memories of the Zamorakians run through my mind...And I must relive them, as if I were that person." Fienrir angrily spat out. "I don't care if you call it a gift or curse, but when a Zamorakian falls to my blade, their memories and souls make me stronger. Their memories trickle through my mind, luckly not enough to drive me insane. Again, call it what you want."

"That sounds more of a curse from Zamorak!" The king took up arms.

"I am no Zamorak warrior, but I was blessed with this gift by my god, Saradomin. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to sabotage the plans of those blasted Zamorakians." Fienrir angrily left the tgrone room, as the King withdrew his blade.

"Fienrir!" He turned back to look at the king. "Please, bring the children back safetly!" Fienrir grinned, leaving the throne room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Liberi Fatali will not fall into the wrong hands!

Fienrir furiously thought to himself. He finally arrived at the Zamorakian's temporary makeshift camp, tents upon tents were set up, enough to fill seven kingdom's alone. Fienrir knew what he had to do; he realized quickly why they picked this as a shelter. Stealthly as a raven in the sky, he ran towards the cave in the horizon.

I'm suprised, Xeeler. You haven't read anything yet. This is just a "Funny bump" To give you and everyone else a heads up. I rewrote the prologue, so it isn't boring, and people might get interested. :D

Reflection of the week: Alwaz youz spehl chek.

very good! keep it up! (waits intently for next installment!)

Btw I liked the prologue, fits somewhat more!

Also, read the Role playing game thread! needs your post/opinion (and story!)

Also, answer to your next thought... Because they believe it will answer their problems

oops...Didn't add this:

For those of you who didn't read previous chapters (Chapter 12-14), don't read the next one, or you won't get it.

(NEW) Reflection of the day: Why do fools fall in love?

Chapter 15: The Sabotage Liberation

Fienrir arrived at the cave. Torches were lit in front of it, as more torches were placed throuout the cave. The darkness was still in patches in area's, and realized keeping a lookout for gaurds is very important.

"Fienrir." Fienrir shifted his attention to a shadow, creeping towards him slowly. "Look's like great minds think alike." The shadow became lighter, revealing the ever mysterious Vincent. His sword was sheathed at his side, as his red eyes glinted in the light of the moon.

"Vincent? I haven't seen you since we departed for the Twilight gates. What are you doing here, exactly?"

"You can say...My shadow is drawn to darkness." Vincent grinned. "You aren't the only one who's afraid of the dark. "

"Well, at least I have a friend near me."

"Indeed. Let us proceed; the kin await us deep within." Fienrir, a grin stretched across his face, as he lead Vincent into the cave. Vincent took out his lantern. "Just in case." He turned it out, as they treaded deeper into the confines of the cave.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As they walked deeper into the depths of the cave, it becamse colder and damp, and darker, too. How do the Zamorakian's survive here? They need heat. As if they were to walk to a hot crater deep within the ground.

"I agree." Fienrir jumped, as Vincent chuckled. "You cannot hide things from me; I know more spells of Zamorak then you will ever know in your own lifetime."

"Well, how?"

"I do many undercover missions as a Zamorakian. Actually, I even met the king himself within his own lair, posing as one of the Zamorakians. He told the other fools of Zamorak and I the plans of attack, wereas the information was passed to you. But they must have reformulated a plan, to only attack Edge, and to attack Vad'Idlien instead. That king is one man with an intullect to know how to quickly reformulate a plan. Makes me sick." Fienrir silently chuckled, but then a heat wave went through his body. Vincent shivered, too.

"Looks like we were right." Vincent only noded, turning off his lantern as he studied the massive crater, bridges built around it and massive, diamonds stuck into the walls.

"Perfect," Fienrir exclaimed, "Looks like there are storage rooms containing armor and weapons. If they cannot have these things, they cannot hope to win." Fienrir quietly trodded to one of the three nearby rooms. "Looks like down this hallway is a jail cell. Liberate the children, Vincent. I feel the need of Sabotage." Vincent immediatley ran down the hall withput question, as he began to pick lock the door. Fienrir drew his blade, quietly opening the armory, sword overhead, awaiting a booby-trap. Nothing.

"You think they would anticipate our actions...Wait. Speaking of booby-traps..." Fienrir grimly smiled.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"You have the kids?" Fienrir closed the final room, the spell book storage, behind him.

"They are behind me. But they said for us not to proceed without caution; they want you to kill the gaurd that comes around. Silence him, and we are home free."

"A gaurd, huh? Anything else we have to worry about?"

"No." A deep voice behind him said. Fienrir jumped, evading a blow that could have killed him; the armored gaurd pulled back the giant flail, [bleep]es upon it aith other scraps of metal and ahrp jewels, nearly half the size of the man. Fienrir's blade was knocked away from him, as the gaurd picked it up. "With a blade like this, you can't even defeat me. Take it. I want a fight that will last." The blade made a sharp screech as it struck the ground.

"That's a mistake." Fienrir picked up the blade. "But it would have been a mistake either way, sword or no."

"We'll see!" The man released the flail, Fienrir barely evading it again. As the gaurd pulled the flail back, the screech was louder, making a small magnitude. Fienrir wuickly formulated a plan: It may be risky, but I'm sure I can stab my blade into that flail. Maybe he'll be rid of it, throwing it into the crater. I'll take it out then, and fight him sword by sword. He thought, as he glanced at the handle of the gaurds blade, resting on his back.

"Say your prayers!" The man released the flail at full force, as Fienrir held his blade out---

Missed!

Fienrir was smashed into the wall, as blood gushed from his mouth and stomach. The gaurd released it, turning his attention over to Vincent, who gaurded the children.

"You're next. All of you." Grimly smiling, he attempted to release the flail, as Fienrir stabbed his sword into the flail, blood still coming out fast. "What?!" He started to wildy throw around his flail, Fienrir holding onto the handle weakly. "Arrogant worm!" He let go of the flail---Right into the crater, Fienrir withdrawing his blade out of the flail, landing on the ground with a thud.

"Fienrir!" Vincent yelled. The gaurd ripped his sword out of his sheathe.

"You are skilled, but without perfect evasion, you cannot win You can't even land right!" Fienrir knew he was right---His blade was enormous. [bleep]es ran down the sides of the blade, even scraps of old metal ran down them, too. If he were to win, evasion and pulling himself together was needed.

"I'm...Weak right ow, so you have the advantage. But I...Heal very fast. No man...Heals as fast...As I." The gaurd whatched, wide eyed, as the wounds dissapeared, and Fienrir regained stamina.

"What kind of wizardry...Be this?" The gaurd angrily asked.

"No wizardry...Just skill!" Fienrir jumped into the air, grabbing a stalsgmite from the ceiling, as he threw it into the man for direct impact.

Succesful!

The gaurd shrieked, as the blood trickled down his head. His grip on his sword was still tight, though---He was far from death!

"I...Cannot...Die!" The gaurd struck the ground, sending a shockwave of pure energy towards Fienrir. Skillfully, he parryed it with his own wave of energy---The impact blew Fienrir and the gaurd onto their backs. "What?! So you even know Zamorak spells...I'm impressed." The stalagmite cracked, as it crumbled onto the ground. Blood rushed onto the ground, as the man screamed in pain.

"You cannot die, you hate us, and you treat us with repect. Nice." Fienrir nimbly jumped, landing gracefully on the ground, creating a pothole. "Although you have all of these 'Qualities' you will die all of the same." He raised his sword, attempting to finish him off.

The gaurd rose.

He parryed Fienrir's blow swiftly, grabbing his own blade off of the ground. I can't beat him with startegy alone, either! Fienrir quickly scanned the room. Looking at one of the doors, his idea sparked. Fienrir jumped at the gaurd, slashing, as the gaurd evaded all of his blows, until his blade was knocvked out. Infuriated and frustrated, the gaurd madly swung his blade at Fienrir. Evading, either by flipping or jumping off of his blade, he stopped at one of the storage rooms--specifically the weaponry---awaiting the man. Fienrir picked up his, withdrawing it within his sheate.

"Out of options, little man? I'll make your death fast!" He held his blade in a chets slace position, then charged.

Perfect.

Fienrir jumped out of the way, as the gaurd rammed the door. "What the?!" He stood in the room, as he turned around, looking at Fienrir. "Why you---" The booby-trap was triggered, as the man began to step out of the room. Two swords from both sides of the cieling came down---Stabbing his temple. As they fell, the rocks Fienrir stacked upon the cieling fell---Blocking all entry. Fienrir gasped for air---He did it!

"Well done, Fienrir," Vincent admirably replied, "I hope all of these doors are booby-trapped."

"I also made a trip to the entrance and started a fire at one side of the field of tents. Not only that, but whatch your step---The entrance is booby-trapped for the people that come for there things." Vincent grinned, as the two men guided the children out. The liberation was a sucess, now we must wait and see of the next booby-traps." They walked out of the cave into the broad moonlit fields. Fienrir's burn plan worked; half of the field of tents were destroyed, leaving nothing but ashes. Better yet, the smock didn't trigger any effects to the Zamorakians. They walked onwards to the path back to the kingdom, away from the twilit area. The memories of the dead Zamorakian's rushed through Fienrir's mind, pain pulsing through. At least...I'm stronger... He thought.

"Amen to that," Vncent glanced at Fienrir, "Amen to that."

very interesting... but Vincent is a bit too convenient.

M0r3 S70ry pl0x!