RuneScape Forum Archive | The Oracle of ScapeRune

WolfLord7777

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***

Selvaria hacked at a large vine with her machete, which was now almost blunt from hacking through about ten kilometres of jungle. It stuck in the woody stem, and it took her two tugs to get it free. It took her another two swings to cut through it and another three to clear away the smaller vines and branches blocking her path.

She stopped, leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. She was breathing hard, almost panting, and sweat streamed off her face. She pulled her canteen from its hook on her belt and took a few sips of warm water, grimacing.

“Are you two ever going to decide to stop taking breaks every few hundred metres, or am I going to have to leave you behind?” Dorn asked from ahead. He spoke normally, but somehow his voice carried through the thick jungle.

He was so far ahead she could only see occasional flashes of red from his cloak, but he always seemed to know when she or Hawk, just behind her, stopped for more than a few seconds.

Selvaria grimaced in distaste, putting her canteen back on its hook and started to hack through the thick jungle scrub, her almost blunt machete all but bouncing off the thicker vines and branches.

Behind her she heard Hawk muttering mutinously in a wheezy voice. He had had a hard time from Dorn recently and it hadn’t helped moving down from the huge inhospitable mountains to this sweltering hellhole.

It took them about ten minutes to catch up with Dorn, even though he was only about 50 metres away. Ten minutes of trying to hack through thick vines and creepers which could well have been growing tougher and woodier day by day for several centuries.

18-Jan-2011 01:24:48 - Last edited on 04-May-2011 12:41:00 by WolfLord7777

WolfLord7777

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Dorn was just standing still, facing them, watching them struggle through the tough jungle growth, distaste evident in his frown and curled upper lip. The jungle pulled back around him, with no growth within a metre of him. It did*’t seem to pull back though, and it did*’t seem to have been forced back, it just did*’t seem to be there, like there was a blight of evil, a stain on the fabric of reality where no plant grew.

As they reached him Hawk opened his mouth to complain, as he so often did, about how hard he was driving them, but as he did so Dorn turned around and walked forward, as he had done on all the previous occasions they had tried to talk to him. The bubble followed him, the plants moving back, closing the gap, without actually moving.

Selvaria shook her head, her brain already seeming to ache, as it always did when she thought about the 1001 strange phenomenon that occurred around Dorn.

She raised her machete, hacking through the jungle again. Already Dorn was several metres ahead, moving far faster than he should, the jungle peeling away from him, parting like a knife through water and then falling back into place.

***

Roal stumbled, slipping on the loose gravel of the high mountain path. His legs slipped out from beneath him and he threw his hands out to grab something. He flailed, lunging at the air, knowing that it was too late, he was going to fall, that there was nothing for him to hold onto, nothing for him to use to keep himself standing. He fell over, showering gravel over the huge granite cliffs on either side of the narrow path.

18-Jan-2011 01:29:24 - Last edited on 04-May-2011 12:37:14 by WolfLord7777

WolfLord7777

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Suddenly a pair of hand gripped his, and he was lifted up, just as he was about to fall off the cliffs to certain death. The one gripping his left hand was perfectly smoothed, without a wrinkle of any kind. It put off a kind of warm glow, and it was perfectly white. The hand gripping his other hand was small, like a fruit that had been left out in the sun too long and had shrunk. It was not marked by wrinkles, but it was covered in calluses and small scars. It felt rough, and it was a dark tan colour.

Roal looked up, to see who had saved him.

Holding his left hand was Deother, lifting up as he would a young, frail child. Clutching his right hand was Dorn, hauling him to his feet like he was his only chance of survival.

“Hurry up, or they’ll catch us,” Dorn growled, his eyes burning like pools of liquid fire.

“Roal, we have to keep moving,” Deother said kindly.

“Who’ll catch us?” Roal asked, getting to his feet.

They both looked surprised that he did*’t know.

“The Cursed One,” Deother said, just as Dorn said “the Empty Lord.”

Roal paused.

“This is a dream. It isn’t real,” he said.

Dorn and Deother both frowned, confused.

“Why wouldn’t it be real just because it’s a dream?” Deother asked.

Roal looked around, incredibly confused. It’s just a dream, he thought, I’ll wake up soon.

He turned around, looking at the mountain path behind him. A lone figure was walking slowly down the path, a figure clothed in shadows and swirling patterns of darkness.

“Run!” Dorn and Deother yelled at the same time, their voices echoing in his skull, his entire skull vibrating. Run! Run! Run!

He turned back to them, and they were gone. He frowned, even more confused, then getting even more confused when he realised that he was confused.

This is just a dream. I can’t get confused in a dream. And anyway, I’ll wake up soon. I will! He thought.

Roal looked back down the path, and was surprised to see that the dark-clothed figure was striding up to him.

18-Jan-2011 01:29:31 - Last edited on 04-May-2011 12:38:34 by WolfLord7777

WolfLord7777

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“Who are you?” Roal asked, backing away.

“I go by a number of names, many you would not recognize, some you recognize as something completely different, and none of which would mean anything to you now,* the man replied, still walking towards Roal.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Roal said, annoyed.

“I never said that it did. If you don’t know who I am, why are you fighting me?” the man asked.

“I’m not fighting you,” Roal said, still backing away.

“You’re backing away from me like I am a poisonous snake about the strike,” the man replied. Roal paused, but he did*’t stop backing away.

“That’s not fighting,” Roal protested.

“But you’re still refusing my help,” the man replied.

“You havn’t offered any yet!” Roal exclaimed, annoyed that their conversation seemed to be getting nowhere.

“You havn’t needed it. But now you do. So here is my offer: Come with me, and gain power and influence greater than any other. Or die here,” the strange man said, in an even tone.
Roal opened his mouth to speak, but his foot suddenly met empty air, he staggered, arms windmilling. Then the man pulled him away from the massive jagged edge where the path simply stopped.

“That’s the first time I will help you. I will help you three times, but each time the cost will increase,” the man said, smiling.

“Price?” Roal said, confused, as he had been for pretty much this entire conversation.

“Everything costs something,” the spooky man replied.
“But I did*’t ask for it!” Roal exclaimed.

“Would you rather have died?” the man queried.

“Depends on the price,” Roal muttered.

The man smiled, as if Roal had said something amusing.
“Now you have no option but to follow me. Come, and I will show you the way.”

“There’s always a choice,” Roal answered, stepping off the cliff.

He fell for a surprisingly short time, whizzing past the cliffs with phenomenal speed. Just before he slammed into the grounds, he covered his face with his left arm in a futile attempt to protect himself.

18-Jan-2011 01:29:38 - Last edited on 04-May-2011 12:40:05 by WolfLord7777

WolfLord7777

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***

Roal’s eyes burst open, panting. He was lying on his bedroll, staring up the starry mountain sky, breathing in the freezing night air.

Roal relaxed, his breathing easing up. He rolled over, trying to get back to sleep.

Then he saw his left arm.

It was a broken mess of cuts and bruises, and his metal middle finger was bent out of shape.

Staring at his arm, it took him several hours to get back to sleep.

18-Jan-2011 01:29:45 - Last edited on 04-May-2011 12:40:31 by WolfLord7777

WolfLord7777

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Chapter 6: To the Death

The eight men sat around a large oak table in the middle of a concrete and steel bunker deep under Ardougne. Maps and sheafs of paper covered the table, everything from a report on strange weather phenomenon to a nineteen page report on the strike force moving towards the ScapeRune force somewhere to the south.

Of the normal 12 men sitting on the Runescape Coalition’s council of war, there were only eight of them now. The Gno)ck Alliance had pulled out all their high command staff, so they did*’t have any representatives, as had Falador. Three other representatives were too busy organizing the defence of the city to make it to the council, and they cancelled at too short notice for them to replace them.

However, there were four representatives from a number of smaller nations. The Rellekan representative had arrived with 20 000 Rellekan warriors, armed with hundreds of close quarters weapons, and the desert nations had sent two representatives, although they had barely 10 000 between them. However, Burthorpe had sent 50 000 soldiers, almost two thirds of their full force, and they were the best soldiers in the world.

The leading Ardougne general stood up, taking a swig of brandy from his hip flask. He grimaced, then gulped it down and put it back on the table. He cleared his throat, then spoke.

“We’re in big trouble. We-ˮ

“You think we don’t know that?” the Burthorpe general said in a deep voice.

18-Jan-2011 01:29:52 - Last edited on 23-May-2011 10:26:04 by WolfLord7777

WolfLord7777

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“Don’t interrupt me. What I’m saying is, if we stay here, eventually we will be defeated. When that happens, there will be nothing left between the rest of Runescape and the ScapeRune army. They will have access to one of the greatest ports in the world as well as ample resources, and access to the Dwarven mine network. In addition, they will have control over the second largest industrial centre in Runescape. They will continue to push us back, until we are eventually defeated,” the Ardougne general told them flatly.

“Do you actually have a plan or are you just trying to depress us?” the Burthorpe general asked.

“We have to strike!” the Ardougne general said, smashing his fist into the table, shaking it, “If we can strike hard and fast enough we can drive them back and give us enough time to get enough reinforcements here to drive them back to whatever Hell they came from.”

“There isn’t any more support coming. The other nations have already decided that we’re doomed and that any more troops here would die in vain. They are currently looking to their own borders, and they won’t endanger their necks to defend us. Besides, even if we did get more backup, we wouldn’t have the numbers. No matter what happened, we would be driven back here, and we would be in an even worse position than before. They can afford a war like the one you’re suggesting, we can*t,” the other Ardougne general replied, leaning back in his chair and crossing his fingers into a steeple shape.

“What about Derk? From the garbled reports I’ve heard, his assault is going well, and he only has a tiny fraction of the numbers we could have,” the first general replied heatedly.

18-Jan-2011 01:30:00 - Last edited on 23-May-2011 10:26:57 by WolfLord7777

WolfLord7777

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“Strange, from what I’ve heard he has been forced to stop for precisely that reason. Heavy storms have stopped him from landing most of his troops and the ScapeRune forces have started pushing back, slaughtering his men company by company. I doubt he will survive another week. Besides, his actions weren’t authorized by this council or by high command, so he has no bearing on this conversation,” the second general countered.

The first general opened his mouth to reply angrily, but before he could speak one of the desert representatives spoke up, speaking quickly in a strange, harsh language. Most of the men around the table looked surprised, they hadn’t realised they spoke a different language.

“You have 500-600 000 troops in the city. Surely this is enough troops to do what you plan?” the other tribesman translated, cutting short some of the words and speaking in a flat tone, clearly finding it difficult to speak the common language.

Before any of them could speak a muffled boom sounded above them, quickly followed by several more.

The eight of them jumped to their feet, chairs tipping back and papers scattering to the floor. They were deep underground, far from any ScapeRune forces, so they must have been very, very big booms, which could only mean one thing.

The Battle for Ardougne had begun.

***

The drumming of thousand of guns firing shattered the still night air in the lull after the massive blast. The south wall was shattered in a number of locations, most in the middle of the wall where the fighting would be thickest.

Already thousands of ScapeRune soldiers were pouring through the breaches, guns up, swarming over the few Runescape soldiers who had survived the blast.

King Fredric the 7th of Ardougne watched from the roof of his castle as a row of buildings on the river bank crumpled and burst into flames, but their occupants were long gone, evacuated to Falador.

18-Jan-2011 01:30:07 - Last edited on 23-May-2011 10:28:25 by WolfLord7777

WolfLord7777

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In the distance, soft but insistent, was the sound of several hundred heavy artillery pieces firing, each shot closely followed by the much louder boom as the shells smashed down into the city, obliterating buildings in billowing clouds of fire and smoke.

“My Lord, you should evacuate. When the ScapeRune forces reach here we won’t be able to stop them,” one of his guard lieutenants said behind him, resplendent even in the faint moonlight in his blue and silver lacquered armour.

“No Ardougne has ever fled from battle, no matter what the odds, and neither has an Ardougne king ever failed in his duty. I will not be the first on both counts,” Fredric told him, still facing the battle raging below.

A few moments later the lieutenant turned away, raising his hand to his earpiece and speaking quickly.

“My Lord, I have a report from Commander Codey of Burthorpe. He says that he has enemy contacts in four of the five southernmost districts and requests permission to engage his reserves,” the lieutenant said, moving to Fredric’s right side again.

“Tell him he has permission to do whatever he thinks is necessary. He has far more experience in these matters than I,” Fredric replied, not turning around.

The man nodded, turning away again. Fredric barely noticed, absorbed as he was in the chaos unfolding below.

***

“Okay Delta, keep it tight,” Sergeant "Buck" Riley said into his helmet, ducking behind the corner of a building and waving the rest of his squad forward.

They ran forward in twos, each wearing their khaki and green combat gear and completely trusting the rest of the squad to cover them as they sprinted across the wide open ground of the square.

“Alpha One, this is Delta Two. We have secured the Tol ******* Square, no hostile engagements. Awaiting further orders,” Buck said into his helmet as the last of his squad ducked into cover.

18-Jan-2011 01:30:15 - Last edited on 23-May-2011 10:29:34 by WolfLord7777

WolfLord7777

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“Affirmative Delta Two, this is Alpha One. We have intel on approximately 30 hostiles approaching your position from the south. ETA four minutes. Hold tight, we don’t have the men to spare to give you the support you need,” the voice of Colonel “Iron” Lastessi replied over his earpiece.

“Copy that Alpha One; we’ll keep you updated on the situation. Delta Two out,” Buck said into his mouthpiece.

“Okay Delta, move out. I want two man teams, one fires while the other reloads. Crossfire on the south street, at the double, we have four minutes before 30 ScapeRune ****ers come through that street, and I don’t know about you but I do NOT wanna get a bullet in the brain first thing in the mornin’,” Buck yelled, addressing his squad.

His squad was already in two man teams, so it did*’t take them long to get into position, arrayed around the square and barely visible behind the various pieces of cover they had chosen. And each one perfectly positioned to rain lead into anyone coming out of the street.

“Lewicky, you’re with me. Close-combat configuration, we’re gonna be pickin’ off any of those *****s that makes it through that cross-fire. You take the left side, I’ll take the right,” Buck told the only soldier other than him that wasn’t in cover.

Lewicky nodded, putting his rifle in its holster and drawing his long bladed knife, holding it back handed. Buck did likewise, drawing his sword and tossing his pistol to Lewicky.

But no sooner had he reached his position than a grey streak came out of one of the streets to the east.

18-Jan-2011 01:30:22 - Last edited on 23-May-2011 10:30:44 by WolfLord7777

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The Oracle of ScapeRune