RuneScape Forum Archive | Fall From Grace

Jul

2020

Serene End

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But before they knew it, the sun was blocked from their view. Its illustrious shine barreling down upon them no more, for man's attempt at a solar eclipse had finally cast a delightful shadow over them. This tall, daunting wall stared them down, massive, hulking brinks of stone made up its flesh.

But such a tough front was merely skin deep, for this mighty titan was far past its prime. It was barely fit to be called a wall, much less a border of defense. It was a deplorable state of disrepair, so covered in vegetation that it looked more like a display in a garden than a means of protection.

The ivy had utterly decimated these walls, chewing through and causing complete failure in multiple sections. Those stones carved by human hands littered the ground, beginning to be swallowed by the earth. It was an honest miracle that it was still standing, even after all this damage done.

The scars of war still deeply wounded this place, its war-torn past riddled the air with its tragic presence. As the brilliant star above began to fade and the darkness overtook the sky, the group got one full look upon the gates. The gates were far less impressive than the walls, two wooden doors stood between them and this village known as Taverley.

Damage was very evident: their timber skin injured and splintered, the left door barely clinging to the walls. This mouth hung ajar, revealing Taverley inside. It was a rather anxious environment between the remnants of the Resistance and the Desert Assassins, knowing that they were about to embark onto uncharted territory. Just what would they find here?

For the fear that the left door might collapse on top of them, Raphael proceeded to push only the right side open. It was an effort to push, its weight fighting him back. But he was steadily winning this battle, the door's cry was cast out into the air. An eerie, startling creak emitted from this door, a noise loud enough that even human ears could hear from a distance.
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09-Mar-2016 16:33:51

Jul

2020

Serene End

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The gates peeled open, revealing this ruined place before them. Taverley... The bridge which once served to connect Asgarnia to Kandarin, now served as the bridge between Governanti and Alverra. Its ancient roots resonating even still in this sad, sorrowful scenery. Its forgotten past still present, lying beneath yards of rubble and dead greenery.

But time is a double-edged sword, uncaring of who or what it cuts. This place, though faintly humming with its lost memories, was the perfect example of its fickleness...

The once proud, accomplished druids and their lovely homes of wood, now all faded away and hollowed-out. Their buildings had succumb to the corrosion of time, several having caved into themselves. They were all in such a terrible state, barely feasible for the concept of housing. The corpses of lifeless roots and all sorts of vegetation entangled and ensnared this once tranquil place, overgrowth reigning supreme and dominant.

Just as the area outside, this place too was wounded from the great battle long ago. Some of the buildings wore scars from blades swiping across, some were deformed by scorch marks from fires past. One could find random bones and strange mounds of dirt and rock scattered across the area, presumably corpses cruelly and horridly compacted together.

There was a large lake just off to the group's left, one which appeared rather ill-looking. Its water so foggy that one couldn't see the bottom, its coast was littered with rubbish and all sorts of unfathomable things. And its smell, a faint, but horrendously rancid stench. Like a little lion cub with a bite fully grown, its voice wasn't loud, but its attack was relentless and viciously effective.
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09-Mar-2016 16:34:55

Jul

2020

Serene End

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But there were signs that told a tale, a tale of a very ravenous, hungry lake. It began to creep up onto dry land, eating the earth. The outskirts were consumed whole, while parts of the back-most of Taverley were beginning to feel the effects. The pier which once led many newcomers to adventure was taken back by the sea, and the bank right next door was half-way underwater.

But just beyond this village lied a great peril in their near future: a gigantic mountain of white. The air here alone was rather frigid, but this mountain was frozen and absolutely covered in snow. A rather intimidating sight to behold, given that there seemed to be no other obvious means of continuing west without trekking that mountain.

Even now, the group could feel the mountain's chilling sting settle down in them. Mist billowed out from their noses and mouths, their bodies grown with a case of the jitters. "Ah..." nervously muttered Calvin, his gaze facing the towering mountain close by. "Guess it's too late ta run back 'n' grab my coat..."

Shakir turned his gaze to Telvern, a person whom was in front of him. "Do you honestly expect us to trek through that?" the angry Lamian questioned in a harsh tone.

"As I've said, this is not to be a task without challenge," Telvern reminded Shakir and the entire group again for the third time, his voice as dead serious as the last.

"Then I would imagine we'll have to secure some equipment to ward off the cold," the merchant-turned-assassin Kereske put out his suggestion, a truth everyone knew all too well. "We're likely not to survive out there dressed as we are."

Telvern nodded. "Agreed," he concurred before the group decided to move on.
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09-Mar-2016 16:35:56 - Last edited on 09-Mar-2016 16:36:13 by Serene End

Jul

2020

Serene End

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The group found several people around the immediate vicinity, scavenging, or just trying their best to get some food. But the second of their entry would draw a slew of eyes, everyone immediately ceasing all activity and just staring dead at the group. Some tossed out looks as sharp and jagged as a broken piece of glass upon those who entered, some even scurrying away as fast as they could out of fear of the unknown.

As they traveled on, they could hear slams echo in the distance. Daevarro's eyes wandered, seeing as people from inside their so-called homes tried their best to hide. They would find the nearest board of wood and place it over their shattered window, a poor man's attempt at a window curtain. But of course their efforts were in vain, given the amount of holes in their walls. One would require an entire tree's worth of wood to conceal themselves properly under these conditions.

The environment was a dangerous, volatile concoction of fear, suspicion, spite, and threat. Such a charge was troublesome, entwining this group in such a state of discomfort. The darkness of the night only escalated this uneasiness, for the harsh, glowing eyes of the inhabitants pierced through the night.

The group's appearance was a strange, foreboding presence, forcing them to proceed with caution. They tread upon a pathway barely fit to be considered one, it was more like a few mossy stone-brinks here and there but mostly dirt and grass that stood as tall as the knee of the average man.

They entered deeper into this god-forsaken place, finding the light of a small firepit just ahead. Two men stood beside the fire, another was a woman tending to some pelts that were in the process of being tanned. One pelt was one with fur as white as a cloudy sky, another appeared hard, rough, bumpy, and gray like stone.
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09-Mar-2016 16:36:46

Jul

2020

Serene End

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The two men beside the fire -- both garbed in some seriously tattered, dirty clothing -- appeared almost not to notice the new arrivals. One man stood beside the fire, tending to a large opened can hanging above the fire. Inside of it was water, attempting desperately to purify it of its disgusting, putrid past.

But the footsteps of the foreigners came thundering down, causing the water-bearing man to take notice of them. His eyes instantly grew wider, instilling a sense of fright in him. Like a startled deer, he dashed away as quick as a flash, leaving behind even his 'sanitized' water. The woman tending to the leathery also made a beeline, fleeing as fast as she could.

The only one who didn't leave was the last man beside the fire, a hooded man. He sat upon a log, one which was cut into and made into a makeshift seat. As the dark closed in on them, the fire was rather quite apparent. Its billowing, breathing body pushing out warmth, an essential to survival out here in this harsh place.

The group stood before him, the only one who was neither threatened nor terrified of their appearance. Raphael was the first to him, taking impressions of this man. He appeared rather frail and weak, boney and quite pale. Raphael couldn't quite make out his face, his head being down. But judging by the wrinkled, cracked, callus condition of his hands, the hooded man had to be elderly.

His hood was a part of a tattered green cape, one which appeared much longer on his right side. It actually once served as a blanket of some form, finding a poorly sown-on button keeping it together to form the hood. Beneath it was an old, worn-out, torn brown coat which was missing quite a few buttons. It was horribly sullied with all kinds of filth: dirt, sweat, and multiple sown-up tears with old blood stains surrounding them.
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09-Mar-2016 16:37:25

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Underneath was a tattered long-sleeved shirt, one which was plain to see on his left side due to his coat's left sleeve literally not existing. Upon his legs he wore a withered pair of dark brown slacks, one which bore much patchwork with many mismatching strips of cloth. Upon his feet he wore a pair of leather boots, its leathery skin had seen much, much better days.

The hooded man almost seemed not to be aware of their presence. He sat there with a knife in hand, cutting away at some meat which wore a weird, rough, gray skin. Its blade had dulled over the many years of repeated use, far long overdue for retirement. Yet just like its wielder, despite it being aged and worn to the bone, it found a way to continue on.

The old man's appearance wasn't very impressive, Raphael thought to himself. But it would be unwise to judge a person based on looks, he concluded. His examination lasted only a moment, but it would hit the brakes.

"Found me, have you?" the old man's hoarse, gravelly voice suddenly spoke, mystifying those in his company. "Go on then, claim your prize..."

Raphael and his allies did not understand what he was talking about... "Found me"? "Claim your prize"? It seemed like a case of mistaken identity, considering the old man had yet to even bother looking at them.

Everyone behind Raphael just kind of looked at one another, not sure of what to make of whatever this old man had said. Even still, Raphael was rather off-put by the suggestion. "Excuse me?" the silver-haired heir returned, indignant and suspicious.

Even with Raphael's voice which intimidated, the old man continued to calmly cut away at the meat. "...You're a Barn, are you not?" he then proceeded to ask, shocking the many foreigners.
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09-Mar-2016 16:38:05

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Everyone was rather startled by the old man's question, actually knowing he was a Barn. The young heir tried to retain his composure, despite finding himself rather caught off-guard by the old man's accuracy. It was probably just a lucky guess, considering he hadn't even turned to look up at him. But even still...

"And what draws you to that conclusion?" Raphael responded calmly.

The old man's knife ceased for just a moment, left mid-way in the beast he was carving. Raphael then noticed as his head very slowly lifted, beginning to unveil details of this man. His face flame-lit, his hood no longer casting a fiery shadow over him.

A stern, callous old man stared back at Raphael, his intense, empty glowing eyes as blue and as frigid as ice. His face reflected his lifestyle, his cheekbones stuck out like a ball under a blanket, the bones in his face so apparent like his skin were being pulled back. Given his age, he wore many wrinkles, his eyes were overburdened with bags, and he had numerous scars.

His hair, so gray that it was nearly white, was neck-length and very unkempt. It was so grimy and oily, shining in the fire's light like it had just been doused in gasoline. His face was covered in a thick coat of facial hair, he was half way to looking like a hermit.

With rough, chapped lips did he speak, peering up at Raphael with eyes so intense that made the heir out like he were made of glass. "I've been around enough of your kind to know," he declared with his gruff voice.

"Your kind"... Whoever he was, it's painfully obvious that he hasn't had the greatest of relationships with the Barn family. Then again, not many people have. Raphael then watched as the old man's eyes fanned out, scrolling across the plane of people behind the heir. His stoic gaze fell upon each person's face, a look which startled everyone in its path.
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09-Mar-2016 16:38:33

Jul

2020

Serene End

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His eyes continued to very quickly sweep across this crowd of foreigners, until they stood still suddenly. Noticing as the old man's gaze froze in place, Raphael looked back to see just who he was looking at. He found then a tensed-up looking Telvern, a pair of gelid eyes shooting solely upon him. Yes, any doubt over the old man's knowledge of Barns in his presence had disappeared entirely.

Tossing away his thoughts and questions, Raphael returned himself to that old man's face. With confidence and boldness did he proceed, knowing exactly what he needed to say. He watched then as the old man's eyes lived once more, reaching further into this crowd. It took but a moment, and Raphael saw as they once more stood stagnant.

But this time was far different than the last, this feeling surrounding the old man, like he were opening the door into the distant past -- a dark past. He had found Libitina: a woman with red eyes and deathly pale skin. Many memories appeared then in his mind like a queue which spanned for miles and miles, each in line depicted such vivid, gruesome details.

From Raphael's right was Lamia, unable to help but to notice this old man's look upon Libitina. The goddess took a peek upon the old man herself, but then she was startled. Those eyes of his... Those gelid, callous, hellish eyes...

"Well, you're right about one thing and wrong about another," Raphael's voice suddenly rose, stating something to a fellow who was only halfway there. "Yes, I am of Barn descent. But what brings me here isn't whatever you think it is."

Hearing Raphael's return to him, the old man withdrew himself from this world. His eyes recoiled back into his skull, no longer drifting beyond him. He gazed back down upon his large portion of meat, still mostly covered in gray skin. He pressed his dull-bladed knife into the cut, cleaving the flesh asunder.

"You're a long way from home then, Barn," the old man's harsh voice then spoke back. "What brings you?"
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09-Mar-2016 16:39:05

Jul

2020

Serene End

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"We need to get into Alverra," the young heir answered honestly. "Do you know of the way to get there?"

"Through the mountains," the old man came back bluntly.

"Are there any alternative routes?" Raphael sought.

"No,"

"Is there any place where we might salvage some extra clothing then?"

"Ask him," the old man would then respond, bemusing the silver-haired prince.

Raphael's face grew restless with confusion, being marooned on this tiny island of hint. "Ask who?" he angrily pursued the answer, trying to grant himself some clearance. But such light would not find him, the hooded man just ignoring his request for clarity. He merely stared down at the meat sitting on his tired old lap, cutting away at its tough hide.

"Ask him"? Ask who, exactly? He made no hint at who he was referring to, not even a subtle indication. His suggestion so vaguely short that it was cryptic, leaving Raphael and all others to solve it themselves. But such a mystery would be ceased moments after its conception, a voice sprinting out to give the answer away.

"There's someone coming over," the dark-robed young man Daevarro then pointed out, staring off to the group's right.

Finding Daevarro's word tempting, much of the group found their attention stripped from them. Their eyes pulled onto that which the young man revealed like a spotlight, finding a fairly tall, not terribly fragile-looking man from a distance. Over his shoulders was a small cape of white fur, his clothes long, tattered and sullied. But something about him bore a certain... familiarity.

He walked over in their direction, a dissected stag slung over his shoulders. He kept his head down, mindful of the path right under him. A bumpy, broken bunch of stones made up the way, a stretch which had brought the fall of many folks. Regardless, the gray-headed man continued to cautiously set forth. But unbeknownst to him, there were a few guests apparently awaiting his arrival.
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09-Mar-2016 16:39:36

Jul

2020

Serene End

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He pushed out breath rapidly, its misty form made him appear like a human factory. But still did this steam train charge on, carrying quite a heavy cargo. The man drew in closer, still unaware of their presence. But someone had begun to take guesses at just who was in their presence... He seemed utterly spellbound, struck by daze and confusion.

"...Malik?" the genius Telvern then suddenly called out into the air.

Telvern's stunned voice came rushing into the ears of everyone around, causing a wave of reactions. Raphael's head snapped back onto Telvern for just a moment, hearing him speak his master's name. With shock written all over his face, the silver-haired young man launched his head back at the incoming man.

The call of that name prompted a reaction from the stag-carrying man, making him raise his head in alert. He was startled that someone would call him by such a name, drawing his eye. He averted his attention from his path to what was ahead of him, his rusty-brown eyes finding a large gathering beside the fire.

His face basked in the soft, distant flame's light, revealed to them all. And even with his face being covered in facial hair, even with his face being somewhat drained of life... Raphael knew it in his heart, sending a shockwave of surprise all throughout him. "Master Malik..." he named, both off-guard and subtly joyful.

From one shocking revelation to another, from a cold world to a world gone cold, from Taverley to Governanti. Inside the beautifully ornate, decorated castle of the Imperial Kingdom, two very important figures spent time with one another. Siblings Balor and Lucia Barn were in each other's company, inside the room where Balor's reign would see its start: the king's room.
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09-Mar-2016 16:40:44

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