RuneScape Forum Archive | From the Dying Embers

Black Beam

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Hello, reader! This is probably going to be an epic length thing that pretty much chronicles the player character in novel-form. It's written in the first person, which is kind of new for me, but I do hope it tickles your fancy, or whatever.

Without further ado:

And the world did wake, but nothing changed, not at first.

My name is Jonathan, without a family, of the not-quite-so-mighty village of Draynor. But today, on the first day of the Sixth Age, I became the final Guardian of Guthix's will. And this was perhaps the least comforting of all the blessings that I have endured.

I used to keep an Adventurer's Log, a silly little notebook with a written record of my more daring feats and the more vicious of my puns, but for a while now, I have known that the time for this unending storybook romance of adventure is long over.

This is a record of the more important of my tasks, starting from the time I first picked up a sword on the banks of the River Lum and held off a band of goblins to the current day and beyond. I only pray that there is enough time for me to record these words properly. Even now, there is a good chance that the snake Sliske sits in the shadows, waiting for me to sleep to cut my throat open.

From the Dying Embers
Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:14:36

Black Beam

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1

When I was a young boy, there lived an old adventurer in a ratty old hut next to Draynor's marketplace who liked to tell me stories. He always moved with a little more grace than his advanced age would suggest. A dirty staff which looked suspiciously expensive leaned behind the door when it opened. From my times listening to the old priest who'd come to the corner of the market on Sundays, I knew that a symbol of Saradomin sat at the top of the staff, less a brilliant gold and more a deadened brass now.

He spoke softly of the Stern Judges and smiled with a hint of pain, rubbing an old scar, when he told the tale of the Fall of the Six. His most fascinating stories were the ones about Ardougne, the fabled City of Saints and the Wizard's Guild in the strong-walled Yanille.

But truly would he come to life when he spoke of the people he met in his journey. Great-sword Vannaka, who he dove into a whirlpool with. Hazelmere the Ethereal, who he matched staves with on accident and received a broken back from for his troubles. Siegfried Erkle, who took fifty arrows for him and lived.

The old man gave me my first sword, a mass-produced object of bronze in the scimitar style, and sent me on my way to Lumbridge the day I turned sixteen. That was the day he had set out, himself, from the stables in Falador Castle.

Lumbridge was thirty miles to the east, a path with a fair share of more peaceful goblins and a giant spider or two. Or two hundred.

I'd always hated spiders. I hated them so much that I was barely clear of Draynor when I ran from one, screaming like a stuck banshee. There might have been a healthy amount of fear in my hatred. Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:15:24

Black Beam

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1

, continued

I heard a rather loud plunk when someone's crossbow bolt sank into the fleshy abdomen of said spider. It wasn't even chasing me - it had been minding its own business, gliding around on those demonic brown legs.

I turned to thank my savior and was instantly awestruck. It was, as cliches go, a beautiful woman. She was dressed in the garb of the girls in my village, but the way she moved and the rich caramel skin of her's was-

'Will you kindly move your eyes to my face?', she asked me, in a throaty Kharidian accent.

Being sixteen and, more importantly, embarrassed that the best candidate for damsel-in-distress I had ever seen by that point in my life had, in fact, saved mine, I immediately blushed, full stop. I have no doubt that I could have done a passable impression of a tomato by the point anything witty I could have said came to me. My eyes wandered again and she made a disgusted sound which blossomed deep in her throat, then walked off.

I thought for a desperate moment that she had intended to ask me something, but I was clearly too pathetic at the moment to be of any use.

A piece of advice that the old man had given me solemnly floated back through my consciousness. Never let a possible client see you as anything but a hero. Well, I had clearly failed in that regard.

Dejected, I started on my walk towards the River Lum once more.

This time, when a spider leapt at me, I managed to roll out of the way, scream (silently) and outrun it. Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:16:06 - Last edited on 11-Jun-2013 14:24:02 by Black Beam

Black Beam

Posts: 79 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

2

Life in Lumbridge was not quite as glamorous as I thought it would be.

The city itself could barely be called such, with its population of well-fed and generally happy families.

Lumbridge castle was open to all visitors and boasted a selection of well kept sitting rooms where everyone gathered in their free time. There was an open bar, an extremely large and well stocked kitchen, as well as far too many gossips.

I thought that it might have been better if I had just stayed in Draynor Village. It was difficult for me to find work on the best of days and even more difficult to find girls (or really anything that moved by that point in my parched existence) who were attracted to me due to my distinctly hillbilly accent.

I spent the majority of my time shearing sheep, making butter in churns and praying to Saradomin in the large church. I certainly preferred the peace of that old church to the crowd of children my age in Lum Castle. They were cut from a different cloth - I could see it plainly. While I yearned for adventure and glory, most of them were content with discussing the same things that the older men and women tended to talk about - farming, weaving and cooking.

And none of them particularly liked or respected me. None of them believed any stories I retold about magic or the heroes of old - I didn't have the same presence as an old adventurer, though even he did not receive much respect in Draynor despite the Wizard's Tower being a stone's throw away.

I was ready to give up and attempt some sort of apprenticeship deal at the Tower when the first hint of disaster struck.

One of my dearest friends, a wise old snake, once told me that goblin raids were a sign of restlessness in the all-breaking mind of Bandos, the Warrior God. It did not occur to me that any sort of disaster could truly happen during my lifetime - two ages since the time of war. Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:16:49

Black Beam

Posts: 79 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

2

, continued

I was fishing with a man named Jared in the middle of the night when we saw the unforgettable fire.

Jared was a man of superstition and a good friend besides. We were both from Draynor. He had come to find easy work and I had come to improve my knowledge of the world. I was one of the few that carried a weapon, but not one of the very few who knew how to use it. I was probably better off defending myself with Jared's spare fishing rod, to be honest.

I call Jared a man of superstition because he had predicted disaster for the day from these little circles he had drawn on his calendar and thus decided that fishing during the night would be a better venture. Of course, I didn't care much - I was young and strong and I didn't fall asleep very easily.

The houses across from the River Lum are where the majority of the richer citizens in Lumbridge live - the frumpy old woman who owned my friend Bob's store, the castle kitchen chef's brother who had gotten rich from some business in Varrock…

And it was all in flames. By the strong burn of the conflagration, I could see a band of roving goblins, their skin mottled green and their faces drawn into a horrifying rictus, preying on children trying to run.

I lost my caution that night. I ran for the bridge, my scimitar drawn and pushed past a surprised guard who was trying to set up a barricade, before doubling back, a kind of wildness in my eyes which I didn't know I possessed.

'Take that down', I ordered him, pointing at a pair of farmers who had made it through the crowd of goblins and were now limping over the bridge.

The guard, nearly a head taller than me and twice as wide, sneered. 'Duke's orders', he said.

I paid him no heed as I gripped the barricade he had been building and, with a mighty heave, pushed it into the River Lum.

I sneered back at him. 'If you won't do your job, I'll do it for you.' It might have been threatening, but it was a promise I intended to keep. Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:17:36 - Last edited on 11-Jun-2013 14:25:19 by Black Beam

Black Beam

Posts: 79 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

2

, continued

'Fire!', I heard a booming voice call over us. It had come from the battlements of the castle.

There was the ominous roar of cannons and a huge shockwave picked me up off my feet and deposited me into the River Lum. Thankfully I missed the chunks of wood which had been slated to barricade the castle from any survivors.

I was cold and wet and more than furious. The cannon fire had been directed at the goblins for sure, but I knew that they must have hit the innocent and caused even more property damage than the fire. I didn't quite know how to swim, but I managed to leg my way to the other bank. I used my admittedly flimsy scimitar to push myself out of the water.

Maybe it was fate that the goblins were too busy slaughtering the screaming to notice that someone had swam out of the River Lum.

I had never taken a blade to another living creature before that night, but I don't think I'll ever forget the expression on the face of that nameless goblin when a horizontal slash from my scimitar opened his throat.

His skin may have been green, but his blood was as red as my own.

I screamed, but I didn't stop. Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:17:58 - Last edited on 11-Jun-2013 14:25:49 by Black Beam

Black Beam

Posts: 79 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

3

That wise old man had called it Eroica, in a language best left to memory. He said it meant "the taste of heroism running through your veins". Some man had written a piece of music dedicated to the concept once upon a time, during the Age of Reconstruction.

A good hero was the sum of Eroica, Good Works and Piety.

With just the first two, the hero became addicted to the pleasures of playing for other people, the pleasures of reaping benefit or cold satisfaction.

With just heroism and piety, the hero faded away into the ages, to be forgotten.

And without the spirit of heroism, one might as well become a priest.

I'm ashamed to say that I was not quite pious enough.

Suddenly, I wasn't that boy Jonathan from Draynor. I was the Defender of Lumbridge. I was the Slayer of Goblins.

I never paused to remember how scared I was when I pointed by scimitar west. I never remembered how antagonistic I had been when I destroyed the barricade, making my actions necessary in the first place.

And I sure as hell didn't make peace in the church with the sacrifices which had made my heroism possible.

The hero is not defined by his works or his personality or his devotion to good as much as he is defined by the needs of those who he seeks to defend, to protect, to love and cherish despite not knowing them as people.

The hero has no personality - anyone can be a hero. They just have to invest the right time and effort into fixing situations that other people don't have the courage to fix.

For a moment, I thought I was special, I thought I was something more. Something different, something distinct.

But after several weeks of resting on my laurels and helping the guards hunt down the remainder of the goblin forces which were squatting all throughout Lumbridge, afraid of their own shadow, I had become a more appreciated part of the scenery once again.

I went back to church, to atone for my sins by speaking about them. Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:18:37

Black Beam

Posts: 79 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

3

, continued

It didn't help that the priest was as appreciative as the other men and women of Lumbridge.

It was around this time when I decided it would be a good idea to head back to Draynor and figure out where the rest of my friends had gone - maybe talk to the old man once again.

The walk back was no trouble at all. I even carelessly disposed of a bunch of spiders as though I had something to prove.

By the time the sun was high in the sky, I was sitting on a bench in the marketplace with an old flame.

Perhaps the good citizens of Lumbridge were onto something. After just nine months, Amy seemed so drab. She had married some woodcutter who I used to play with as a child and was now pregnant.

I spotted the old man walking out of his house and cut Amy off during her rant about chicken feed prices.

'Dionysus!' I shouted, overjoyed to see the man who I thought I had come to match.

He walked over. 'What's this? You're back, Jonathan?' he asked, a smile on his face a mirror of my own. 'An old friend of mine was spinning a story about a new name who had defended Lumbridge from a bunch of goblins. She said that the strapping young man hailed from Draynor Village and was about this height', he said, demonstrating with his hands. 'How about we talk on the topic over a cup of tea.'

Amy, who seemed just a little starstruck, quickly excused herself and the old man led me back into his house.

'So', he finally started, after heating a pair of cups full of water using just his hands and adding tea leaves to them, 'tell me about this mess.' Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:19:30 - Last edited on 11-Jun-2013 14:27:08 by Black Beam

Black Beam

Posts: 79 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

3

, continued

'Well,' I said, full of that certain naive youthful confidence. 'There were a bunch of goblins who thought it would be a good idea to raid Lumbridge. They burned down a ton of nice houses. The Duke decided it would be a good idea to barricade the bridge from the other side of the River, but I didn't let them, because I saw survivors coming over the bridge. They fired cannons at the goblins, and one of them hit the bridge and I landed in the water. I swam out and killed a bunch of them and held the bridge until reinforcements came and we drove the goblins away.'

The old man looked at me seriously. 'Gain and loss between you must distinguished,' he quoted, from a warrior of the east.

I bit my lip, trying to divine the message behind his words.

'In nine months, that was all you've done?' he asked. 'Forgive me for saying so, but I do believe you are milking your achievements just a little bit.'

I got angry. 'It wasn't easy, alright-'

He laughed at me. The old man had the nerve to laugh at me.

'I killed things.'

His expression became sardonic. 'Who did you do it for? What did you do it for? You did this for admiration. You did this because you thought the heroic thing was going to get people to respect you. To acknowledge you. You came back to Draynor Village to brag. If I hadn't pulled you away, how detailed and incandescent would your story of killing a bunch of goblins in the name of people who probably didn't hold your regard very highly beforehand-'

I set my cup of tea down and glared at him.

'Have you learned nothing of what I had to teach you?' he asked, looking put out beyond belief.

I folded my arms. 'You didn't teach me anything useful. You told me cool stories about stuff that happened. You could have taught me magic. Or how to swing a sword, draw a bowstring. Things like that.' Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:20:53 - Last edited on 11-Jun-2013 14:28:21 by Black Beam

Black Beam

Posts: 79 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

3

, continued

He shook his head. 'You said you wanted to be a hero? Then leave. The next time I see you, you will be on the cusp of being a legend. Otherwise, you will be nothing more than a disappoint in my eyes.'

I walked out of his house with a numbness creeping up on me. I began to wander the streets of Draynor aimlessly, wondering what the old man had meant.

'Watch where you're going!' someone shouted.

I was on the floor all of a sudden. I looked around, but there was no one near me.

My eye caught a flash of orange ducking into an alleyway.

'I bet my coin bag's missing,' I said aloud, in a strange wave of catharsis, and immediately gave chase.

Fortunately for me, the thief wasn't quite that experienced, it seemed. He was literally right in the alleyway and I crashed into him.

I drew my scimitar, checking for my coin bag in the same motion. Yup.

'You better give that back,' I said quietly.

He looked at me, eyes wide. It was a Kharidian, with a little blue sapphire hanging off of his right ear. He looked appropriately guilty.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' he said.

I tilted my head to the side and stared at him balefully.

'Alright, friend. Alright, you can put the scimitar down. This was a mistake. I've learned from it. I won't do it again,' he promised, sounding about as sincere as I was when I was talking to a girl in Lum castle.

He handed my pouch back. It was a little lighter than it used to be. The drawstring was loose. I glared.

'Fine, fine,' he said, looking a little scared now. He fished a handful of coins out of his pocket and deposited them into the pouch.

Then he took a second look at me.

'Say, aren't you the Defender of Lumbridge?' he asked. Sometimes I lay in a tub of ragu sauce and pretend I'm a wand drop

11-Jun-2013 14:21:43 - Last edited on 11-Jun-2013 14:29:40 by Black Beam

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From the Dying Embers