RuneScape Forum Archive | Fall From Grace

Jul

2020

Serene End

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He became acquainted with his thoughts of his sorrow, of his self-destruction. And he poured his entirety into his goals, committing to them without his conscience, regardless of the thoughts and opinions of the wretched world. But now his purpose was accomplished, his reason to live no more.

As he became dressed in rays of golden light, the emotional brown eyes of Telvern Thaddeus gazed upon that which rested securely in his left hand. That which he caressed so preciously was an old, engraved, silver locket. Without reluctance, the grieving husband opened it, revealing a thick, folded-up piece of paper inside.

He had not the heart nor the soul to open this paper since those days, but he unfolded it now without hesitation. It was a picture capturing a day he'd never forget, a day he never wanted to end. It mattered not if his sight blurred or blackened, he fought immensely to see it one last time.

It was the wedding portrait of he and his wife Jeanne, perhaps the most blissful day in all of Telvern's life. A small, secret ceremony, he lucidly recollected, witnessed only by their dearest friends. They were a few good people, Telvern remembering each of them by face and name. And despite the exceedingly high demands of his duties, Lord Divus himself even managed to attend. Telvern then stumbled upon a strange revelation, realizing that everyone who attended the event...was now dead.

Regardless, he joyously recalled that day, and something began to grow upon him. The muscles in his face knew not what to make of his brain's transmission, confusedly lifting the corners of his mouth to his eyes. The frail, crumbling fortitude of the ailing genius stood amidst the slaughter, and in its death did he relocate this piece of him long lost.
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02-Nov-2017 18:13:12

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Telvern's face lifted with a smile of happiness and contentment, a sensation he had not felt in a lifetime. Droplets of water crashed down and soaked into the image of his beloved wife, for he, the loving husband, had begun shed. His elated cheeks brought down tears of sorrow and joy, challenging the streams of blood dripping down his chin. Yes, the kind, good-hearted Telvern Thaddeus had been here the entire time, entombed in the ruins of himself...

As the grief-stricken Telvern lived in his memories, tormented happily between the day of their meeting to the day he learned of his wife's pregnancy, he began to carefully fold up the paper which wore his tears. And with equal caution, he placed that paper right where he found it, closing up this physical representation of everything he was. His sorrow-filled brown eyes began to rise up to the sky, desiring to behold its grandeur and majesty one last time before his end...

...But before his eyes made it, his fragile constitution failed. His vision completely blackened, his every sense shut down. His malady, of all of his suffering, overcame him and his consciousness. And so, the gravity of his sorrow befell him, his body toppled over like falling into the arms of his lover. His glasses flew off of his face as he collapsed, breaking upon impact.

And so too did Telvern Thaddeus, laying there emptily like the rest of the lifeless husks he'd slew. The impact of his fall echoed throughout the somber quiet he created, the last to be heard upon this blood-drenched street. Yet even with the fading of his consciousness, his left hand clung tightly to his beloved locket. His dagger had fallen from his hand, for it was a simple tool which held no meaning to him. But his grip upon the locket remained steadfast, unable to let go of her life, even as he let go of his own.
The end

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02-Nov-2017 18:15:16

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Yes, despite his overwhelming despair, desperation and retribution bound him to this world like gravity. They chained him to this world which tore everything from him, forced him to work for them like he were their prisoner. But now Telvern Thaddeus was free, lifting away from his sorrow, from his hatred. His consciousness lifted away from this cruel, wretched world, just like a body without gravity...

Telvern's body rested alongside the massacre he had committed, a grand finale before the end of the show. The 'spectacle' that was life, as he formerly put it. Yes, the roles of the massive steel beast and its equally steely summoner reached a conclusion. Their parts were played, having smothered any chance for Governanti's godkind to resist.

The city was now left exposed to the Alverrian savages and their endless perversions. Try as the remaining gods and humans might to resist them, but they were no warriors. The Alverrians enforced their will upon them and overpowered them all, even the gods. Yes, they with glowing eyes finally understood what it meant to beg, to bend their knee to a master. And the humans were forced to submit to an even greater overlord.

They all struggled immensely, but such thorough rejection of their fates seemed only to either further irritate or entice the Alverrian savages... As the gods and humans were adjoined in this hysterical suffering, the true spectacle of this day still carried ahead with earnest. The gods' final hope for alleviation, for salvation from this hell fought against the humans' final hope from their hell.

The usurper king named Balor Pallas Barn and the would-be usurper prince named Raphael Divus Barn were deadlocked in a heated, momentous struggle for everything. Deprived of their arms, the two brothers continued to fight without them.
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02-Nov-2017 18:17:08

Jul

2020

Serene End

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The airwaves of their stage, the revered throne room of the whole of the Imperial Kingdom, shook relentlessly. The solemn, decisive nature of this bout could be heard through the clashing of their fists, echoing with great veracity. Their lungs ventilated with heavy, exhausted breaths, thick and thin droplets of blood and sweat sullied the immaculate floor beneath them.

Their voices grunted and roared as they slung their sore, weighed arms against one another, digging deeply inside of themselves to produce another attack. The daylight had begun to die, but its golden-orange rays reached into the room with delicate vibrancy. It filtered through the resplendent colors of kings and queens, drenching the two brothers in its glory like a waterfall of shimmering light.

The black-steel knights referred to as the Loyal Knights of the Royal Family simply observed this fight to the death, a choice not made of their own will, but of that of their king's. They found solidarity in their stagnation, faithful and firm that their king will prevail over the rebel. Yet for some, such self-assurance didn't make just watching it any easier.

Indeed, it was difficult, watching helplessly as their king waged this tiresome war with the one who sought his death. They anxiously witness as Raphael's fist drilled straight and true into his elder brother, the charcoal-haired Balor. His knuckles crashed into the king's cheek, staggering him. The heavy blow secured the stunned Balor's next action, making a hasty retreat to regather himself.

Keeping the momentum swing on his side, the convinced rebel Raphael pursued further offensive action upon his brother. His fist came flying fast at Balor's head, but the usurper king managed to recover his senses enough to defend himself. He blocked Raphael's attack, swatting it away with his right hand. Exposing Raphael for a split second, Balor's right leg then flew swiftly forward, kicking Raphael rather lowly.
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02-Nov-2017 18:18:00

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Raphael's face twisted in response, but then observed as Balor's arm sprung forth a follow-up attack. Raphael pressed his right hand into the side of his head, using his now bunched-up arm to defend against Balor's rather haphazardly thrown haymaker.

It would seem that even the patience of the king, who had remained poised and controlled throughout this entire battle, began to wear thin. And his overreach was rewarded with a strong straight punch from Raphael, his knuckles bore precisely into the bleeding, broken nose of the king.

Balor stumbled backwards, cursing his impatience as he nearly fell over. He saw a momentary flash of white, then black, followed by a galaxy's worth of stars, a sight which he surely did not wish to be repeated. Raphael could easily detect the suffering which Balor exuded, his face scrunching up, his voice uttering this most painful groan.

Such an agonized display certainly built up Raphael's confidence, wholly driving him towards his weakened enemy. But even in his battered stance, Balor's situational awareness was unparalleled. Raphael stepped up and readied his arm, setting his sights to the only spot he could hit: Balor's head. After all, his meager steel blade had no chance against the king's adamas armour, much less his bare fists.

Balor acknowledged this, having observed this strategy deployed with every single of Raphael's offensive acts. He sought no alternatives, simply submitting himself to these headhunting tactics. Wanting to take it all, Raphael packed up his strength and launched a powerful, straight-line punch.

But Balor brilliantly anticipated its trajectory, ducking beneath it. Yet this was not the end of his silver-haired brother's assault, aggressively unloading a broad combination of high strikes. With grace and skillful footwork, Balor agilely bobbed, weaved, and pivoted around Raphael's attacks. Any attack that may have touched him found only his adamas armour, bringing harm only to Raphael and his knuckles.
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02-Nov-2017 18:21:14

Jul

2020

Serene End

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His fist flew with fury, but he became far too swept up in his momentum, in his aggression. He grew predictable, as readable to Balor as bold font. In one such instance, Raphael's arm barreled across with a punch. And Balor effortlessly evaded the swing, stepping forward as he did so.

He was before Raphael now, having gradually closed the distance between the two. And Raphael slung yet another fist, a wildly-thrown punch, just as Balor wanted. He repeated his previous motion, only this time he finished it up by wrapping his arms around Raphael's legs. The rebel attempted admirably to resist Balor's grab, but even his immense efforts could not prevent the inevitable.

He felt the ground disappear out from beneath his feet, for his charcoal-haired brother had begun to lift him up. But as they say, 'what comes up must come down.' And Raphael was about to find this truth in its harshest form...

Raphael then suddenly felt his body falling, his world becoming a dizzying blur as he zoomed backwards. But then, his world went black, feeling only an instant of a horrendous impact. Balor, with all of his strength, maliciously slammed Raphael down into the ground. And the rebel's body was thrown violently against the floor, his head forcefully snapping back, his spine and nerves agonizingly jolting with electricity.

Raphael laid there motionless, still, his blackening vision gazing upon the decorated ceiling above. This feeling, like a portrait, captured only in a single moment, yet it dragged on like days. And it rung, this sound in his ears. Oh how it so insufferably played, like the single draw of a violin played on continuous loop.

Yet, it began to change. As Balor dropped down on top of Raphael, beginning to pound at his face again and again, the intolerable ringing became something greater. The joyous chime of bells channeled into his ears, replacing that detestable ringing with the kind that should last eternally.
The end

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02-Nov-2017 18:22:38

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Yet, another lesson he was to learn was that 'all things must come to an end.' Balor vigorously latched onto Raphael's throat, his hands concealing that scar which branded his brother as a survivor of even death. Balor stood overtop of him, yet Raphael could not see it. Balor roared mightily, yet Raphael could not hear it. Balor had beaten him viciously, yet Raphael could not feel it. There was only one thing that he could see, that he could hear, that he could feel, and that was the fading of his consciousness.

And so he began to succumb to the darkness, slipping further...

...further,

...further,

...further still. Yet, out from underneath the darkest darkness came a voice, which uttered only a few short words, "Death is not yet yours, Palaemmir..."

All across the throne room, the tensed-up bodies of those select Loyal Knights grew at ease. Balor held the life of his brother in the palm of his hands, epping out what little remained of his consciousness. The moment Raphael loses his consciousness, the kingly glow of his eyes will fade. And with it, Balor's triumph over his greatest enemy will be secured. It was a generous thought, allowing those apprehensive knights to breathe a sigh of relief.

Yes, their faith was rewarded, ushering in thoughts and images of their dream Utopia. The smiles and laughter of their family, their friends, of all of their kind eagerly filled this vacuum in their minds...but then something happened.

As Balor choked out the last remnants of his rebellious brother's life, the Loyal Knights noted a change. Before their glowing, joyously victorious eyes was a sign of life, but it wasn't from their king. Although all hope seemed lost to him, they watched as Raphael's right hand rose up from the ground. It reached out, outstretched towards Balor, whose hands and intentions remained steadfast. Yet the king would have a front row seat, bearing witness to a sudden, sinister change...
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02-Nov-2017 18:24:07

Jul

2020

Serene End

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He was the only member in the audience to realize it, but whoever he had his hands around now was not Raphael Divus Barn. These eyes which bore into him, there was nothing inside of them. Raphael possessed eyes which told his story, his odyssey of struggle, determination, and ambition. These eyes were hollow, empty, and as frigid as ice. The only thing to be found was hatred, a pure, sickening malice that consumed everything like an inferno.

Before Raphael's right palm emerged a spherical surge of energy, a ball of brilliant red light. The audience of Loyal Knights were all collectively shocked at this sight, having not realized that Raphael had mastered humankind's magic-craft. The throne room suddenly became engulfed in a flash of red, a red so dazzling that it temporarily blinded the eyes of the Solasúians.

But what they couldn't see with their eyes they could hear with their ears, and it was a truly unsettling sound. An otherworldly, inexplicable noise rattled the soundwaves, followed then by an eruption, almost like an explosion. The moment the flash permitted their eyes to see, they gazed. And their eyes grew with utter disbelief, paralyzed as their king was hurled into the air.

Balor's body spun uncontrollably, smoke billowing off of his armour and burning cape as he flew. The Crown of Utopia, the last regalia he wore, forsook him in the whirling chaos. And just as Raphael, Balor's body crashed disturbingly against the polished adamas floor, his crown hitting just beside him.

He was then entangled in a sequence of tumbles, unable to gain any control over his own body. But with time, his motion became a simple slide, and then that too eventually ceased. Balor laid there, frontside down, without a single hint of motion. But he suddenly turned himself onto his back, his eyes became like complete spheres, his face and mouth broadened as if breathless.
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02-Nov-2017 18:25:51

Jul

2020

Serene End

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Balor could not speak, frantically gasping in pain and for breath, for his chest felt as though smothered under a literal ton of weight. That blast which sent him away was astonishing, somehow dealing horrific damages to even his beautifully-crafted adamas armour. His cuirass endured the brunt of the blast, suffering catastrophic injuries. So much so that it was forced inwardly, effectively crushing Balor's torso.

Without a second thought, the charcoal-haired king's fingers very hectically began unfastening his cuirass. And after perhaps one of the longest times in his life, he did manage to remove the cuirass. He rolled over onto his side and curled up, grabbing at his chest. He coughed and gasped hysterically as though he had nearly drowned. The coughing even brought up some blood, implying that perhaps some internal structures may have been injured in the blast.

Unable to find an escape, a comfort, or even respite from his agony, Balor's body tossed around restlessly. And as much as they would like to help, all the Loyal Knights could do was watch. But they then detected motion from the opposite side of the room, eyeing up King Balor's challenger as he grew with a shred of vitality. Raphael coughed just like his brother, feeling his own blood seeping down into his mouth and throat.

Indeed, Balor's pummeling had done extensive damage to his face, leaving it to become a swollen, crimson mask. And it throbbed rather vigorously in several locations like they had a heartbeat of their own, feeling them growing increasingly larger. Raphael laid there, nigh of hyperventilation, having forgone his vicious coughing spell.

Once more, despite his every nerve screaming in agony, despite even his own self discouraging him, Raphael dug further into his reservoirs of strength. He sluggishly turned over onto his stomach, using his arms and legs to support his exerted core. He rose, all of his will, every fiber of his being a requirement.
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02-Nov-2017 18:27:50

Jul

2020

Serene End

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He got onto his hands and knees, feeling as crimson droplets departed his badly injured face and pooled beneath him. As his strength seemed to surge, his elbows suddenly buckled out from under him, overwhelmed by the pain and weakness he suffered. His forehead fell onto the polished floor beneath him, the excruciating agony carved into his face concealed inside of the shadow of the sun.

"Get up...!" Raphael angrily demanded of his shaken, taxed body. No matter how much he pushed, no matter how much he willed it to be, his body simply did not budge. Yet slowly, ever-so-slowly, he regained mastery over it, over himself. It may have taken some time, maybe even all time, but he lifted himself off of that floor.

Enduring the overpowering adversity, Raphael returned onto his feet, casting his glowing gaze ahead of him. There, there before him was his enemy, the usurper king, who stumbled onto his feet as well. His cuirass was gone, Raphael realized, watching as even other pieces of his armour splintered off and littered the floor. Balor's right hand grabbed at the right side of his chest, opposite of Raphael, whose left hand grabbed at the left side of his chest.

Finally, after their eternity of weakness upon the ground, both Balor and his would-be usurper brother Raphael managed to gain ground. These battered souls were inverse as if it were their fate to be so, residing in opposite ends of the room. Despite their lungs exhaustively exchanging carbon dioxide for oxygen, the intent gazes of both Raphael and Balor never tired.

As they stared each other down, trying desperately to recapture their lost breath, the sun had begun to set upon them. Its death cast out with a dark orange shadow like a soul leaving its body, obscuring their destined collision's majestic backdrop...
The end

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02-Nov-2017 18:28:33 - Last edited on 02-Nov-2017 18:28:55 by Serene End

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