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The Legend of Drokar

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Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
A nice little sneakpeak for you guys for Chapter 2! I've notified twitter, but y'all get a bit more since RuneScape doesn't have a 140 character limit.


The roar and crash of the waves began to feel like the roar and crash of something else. Something… otherworldly. The longboats rocked as they were hit by waves. Were they waves? Curious and terrified men peered overboard. Looking at the deep. ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

08-Aug-2014 00:52:40

Dreamweaver
Aug Member 2003

Dreamweaver

Posts: 3,790 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Okay, you've hooked me and are reeling me in. I await the next episode with impatient anticipation.

Nice work, Cap'n!


P.S. Your nod to Seamus Heaney was most appreciated. An outstanding poet he was. Quite extraordinary.

08-Aug-2014 04:32:24

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Your wait is at end!


Chapter 2: The Final Voyage

Nineteen years later, on a voyage similar to the one they recovered Jorvold Iceblade on, Jorvold and Drokar both stood aboard a longboat. King Harald, now old, white, and sickly from his many years and many travels on the world, would not be leading the hunt this time, but he bid them a good hunt and a warm hearth upon their return. Jorvold chuckled, and hoped for a good hunt. The men prayed to Vuul for blessings of strength and vitality and to Vemn to permit a good hunt on this voyage, for it was Drokar’s first. When they finally left, the sky was cloudless, but dark.

Their journey and arrival at Acheron was uneventful, and they had managed a good haul of five Mammoths on this voyage, but beyond that, it was nothing spectacular. Drokar himself, a lad of nineteen, and with no strength or courage or tales to boast about, and with little skill of hunting or forging, barely contributed to the hunt beyond sharpening a blunt pitfall stick or sharpening an axe. But still, Drokar was honored to be a part of this hunt. Not many Axling children of his age could say they had made the trip to the Domain of Vemn.

As the Longboats, laden with fallen Mammoths and injured Fremennik, lurched home, the sea grew choppy. Could a storm be brewing? But, still, not a cloud in the sky. Had they done something wrong? Something to cause the Gods above to curse them? Jorvold, the leader of the expedition, racked his head. The rest of the thanes grew wary. The ones who were able drew their weapons, gleaming swords, axes, maces and their carved longbows. The ones who weren’t able, tried to draw their weapons anyways.

Drokar was not one of the able. ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

09-Aug-2014 13:36:49 - Last edited on 16-Aug-2014 23:27:51 by Captain Lime

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Sure enough, the men began to panic. Jorvold Iceblade tried to calm them down, but one could see the fear in his eyes too. Some men began to point at nothing in the waves. But was it something? No, it had to have been a crest of a thunderous wave. But some currents looked odd. But then again, what was odd in this strange weather?

The roar and crash of the waves began to feel like the roar and crash of something else. Something… otherworldly. The longboats rocked as they were hit by waves. Were they waves? Curious and terrified men peered overboard. Looking at the deep. What horror could lurk below? And how deep could the horror be?

And then, the answer leapt through the Water and onto the deck of Jorvold’s longboat. The men staggered with fear. This horror, this calamity! A reptilian monster of scaly dark and dark blue hide that stood twelve feet tall, with claws and plates that glinted like steel over titantic, colossal, primordial muscles, and terrible, terrible eyes that shone of red and gold. And worst of all… a wicked mouth at the end of a long, reptilian snout, full of shining daggers.

The men backed, losing their pride and honor. Only Jorvold stood firm, in front of his meek son. He hadn’t a choice, but he chose to wield his axe high and let out a roar not unlike the day he was freed from his ice-bed. The Dagger-mouth saw this as defiance, and could not let it stand. It charged forth.

The two grappled and parried. Niether could outdo the other. The Dagganoth, channeling its predatorial power, and Jorvold Iceblade, channeling the fury of the Fremennik Beserker of the Great War. A Swing of Jorvold’s greataxe would come clanging meagerly onto one of the Monster’s plates, and a thrust of the Reptile’s claws would be dodged by Jorvold’* acrobatics. Swing of an axe, frenzied clawing, a murderous bite, or a barge to knock off balance. All came to naught. But deep down, Jorvold knew he couldn’t win. The Reptile’s stamina was unending. ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

09-Aug-2014 13:37:36 - Last edited on 16-Aug-2014 22:16:07 by Captain Lime

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Sure enough, he would be overwhelmed. But a meek cry behind him reminded him why he was fighting. He looked around when given the chance, and he saw fearful shadows of fremennik, scared of the nightmare on deck, who had abandoned him. He felt shame, but he felt duty. He must kill the monster.

Jorvold put all his effort into one last offensive. He swung his axe with Lightning speed. Again and again he banged it against the Dagganoth’s unbreaking chest, and sure enough, a crash and a slash! A rain of crimson blood trickled down the monster’s torso. But the Dagganoth, a predator unmatched, then did the unthinkable.

It lurched forth with its dying breath, and ripped Jorvold’s axe from his hands. Then, one claw jammed into Jorvold’s right shoulder, and another in the left, and Jorvold’s red, bearded head was in the Dagger-mouth’s mouth. And then it wasn’t on his shoulders.

The Fremennik, aghast, watched as the half-bested nightmare jumped overboard, leaving the beheaded body of the Great Thane behind. Drokar charged forth, and hugged the lifeless body of the father. There was no more that could be done, and sky began to turn white.

The arrival back at Axgaard was still under a white sky. No feast was to be held that day, for the successful hunt was of the Monster’s, not the Axlings. Instead, a tall pyre was built for their fallen brother, and all the coward-thanes were dressed in brown. Drokar and his mother were wearing white.

And as the Pyre burned, the brown thanes all tried to hide their dishonor. Some wove tall tales of two, no, four! No, ten! Twelve twenty-foot, eight-armed reptilian nightmares, that they all fought off, and they couldn’t save Jorvold. Some, openly wept, and others accused and bickered with each other of the cowardice they were all guilt of. Very, very few begged for Drokar’s forgiveness, and Drokar was numb to them all. ^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

09-Aug-2014 13:38:38 - Last edited on 11-Aug-2014 23:46:17 by Captain Lime

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
But there was one man who Drokar did take notice of. After the bickering and somber moaning and mourning died down, there was one man, dressed in forest green, who sung with a lyre at the end of the longhall. His music entranced all who listened, and soon enough, the longhall went quiet to listen to the man*s song.

He sung of a mere shepherd of the land, who was confronted with catastrophe. Meaningless, honorless violence, madness, greed, guilt, lust, desperation, arrogance, mourning, misery, and most of all, death. All attacked the Shepherd. But the shepherd did not wane. He did not falter. He conquered arrogance, and madness, and dishonor, and misery, and desperation. But most of all, he conquered death. And with every one of his victories, he grew taller and stronger and more verdant. Until the High Queens of the Land blessed him and gave him a wife, the Ice-Princess, a nymph of purity, whom he had saved from the grasp of the Gold, White, and Dark omens. And the Green Giant, now made Thane of the Land, had finished his duty. He united the Fremennik under him. His legend only ever grew greater and grander and longer. The song ended with the notes of the Green Giant’s construction and eternal slumber in a great underground longhall, and cried out that all Fremennik who conquered the omens like the Green Giant had could eternally celebrate in the Green Longhall. Surely, he said, Jorvold Iceblade would join him in death.

The Longhall was quiet, and Drokar was entranced. His mind could only think of one thing. He wanted to be like the Green Giant.

And thus, our Legend Continues…

Tune in next week for the next chapter: A House Divided !
^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

09-Aug-2014 13:38:54 - Last edited on 16-Aug-2014 22:52:14 by Captain Lime

Captain Lime
May Member 2019

Captain Lime

Posts: 6,940 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Thank you, thank you! From what my editorpeople tell me (can't do it without them!) it gets better, although I feel like I went a bit overboard with the red in one of the chapters. The next one is largely more political and sets up the rest of the story, though.
^ "Some of those words were
STUPID.
" - Mod Raven

11-Aug-2014 03:41:59

Doctrine
Jul Member 2021

Doctrine

Posts: 5,961 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
This is really good! I actually haven't read Beowulf, but I've been interested in doing so. I heard Heaney is good, but Tolkien's translation got released not long ago, and I'm a big fan of his. Keep up the good work!

12-Aug-2014 00:36:49

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