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 In Honor of Fury...A Story: The Beginning of Hate!

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PostSubject: In Honor of Fury...A Story: The Beginning of Hate!   Sat Nov 26, 2011 9:26 pm

The Beginning of Hate
By Lord Amickon


It was many years ago in the days of my reckless youth. I journeyed throughout the lands of Gielinor going wherever the winds would take me chasing one adventure after another and living the dangerous life of a rogue fighter taking on any and all opponents. I should have known the dangers before I took on the quest, but being young and reckless I didn’t much care as long as adventure was in the air. Many months before the undertaking of this quest, King Roland had summoned me to his chambers with dire news. One of his most trusted knights had been traveling in the area of Ardougne investigating some strange tales of Zamorak mages performing ancient spells and strange magic around the city. News had reached the king that the knight had confronted the mages at one of their spell circles and had engaged them in combat. According to the residents, the battle had been epic, but the knight had been frozen with a spell and then kidnapped by the mages. I told King Roland that this was not uncommon for Zamorak mages to kidnap or kill knights since it brought them the gold they needed to further their own dark deeds. King Roland assured me that this was different. No ransom had been asked for the knight and no news of him being alive or dead had been sent to him. Therefore, he charged me with the task of finding out what had happened to his knight and promised me a hefty reward if I were to bring back definite proof of his existence or demise. Boldly, I accepted the quest and set out on my way. Upon reaching the community of Ardougne, I began to ask the residents if they knew or had heard of news pertaining to the knight. I was looked upon with fear and caution for no one was willing to even speak of the matter. Giving up on the residents, I decided to visit Councillor Halgrive. Our meeting was…brief. As courteous as he was, it was apparent that this man was afraid and made no hesitation to get me out of his mansion, but just as he was shoving me out of the door, he whispered in my ear that the wizard Cromperty might know something of what was going on in the city. Eagerly, I made my way to Wizard Cromperty’s tower. Knocking on the door, I was greeted by a very strange and eccentric person…Wizard Cromperty. He went on and on about his inventions and his discoveries to the point where I could not get in a word about my quest. After 2 hours of listening to this half-baked wizard, he finally asked me what he could do for me. When I began the tale of my quest, the impact was immediate. The confused look that he always had disappeared and he became very quiet and serious. After finishing my story, he told me that for several months now he had felt very disturbing fluctuations in the magic in and around the city of Ardougne; however, it was not directed at the city. It was as if the magic in the area was being drawn inwards somewhere to be used for some dire purpose. I inquired as to what that purpose might be and where it was being drawn too. Wizard Cromperty could not answer my questions, but then he told me to visit Bravek, the Ward of West Ardougne. He may have some of the answers I sought. Not trusting any of the town people, I ask Wizard Cromperty if he would put me up for the night, which he obligingly did. That night was a very restless night as I dreamed of mages in blood red robes chanting and circling an altar covered in blood. I could actually feel magic being sucked from my very bones and being fed directly into the altar. With a scream, I rose out of bed in a cold sweat. The morning sun streamed into the room of the tower and warmed me slightly, but the memory of the dream caused me to shiver anyway. After dressing and eating a wonderful meal provided by Wizard Cromperty, ignoring the endless conversation while I ate, I began my journey to West Ardougne. I had a little trouble getting the guards of the gate to let me in, but once they had recognized me as having helped them in the past, they reluctantly opened up. This part of the city of Ardougne had not changed in years. Dilapidated buildings still littered the streets, people wore rags for clothing, and even though the plague had been cured, some citizens still wore masks about their faces. After a few inquiries, I found my way to Bravek. As I asked my questions about mages in red robes and the disappearance of King Roland’s knight, the impact was obvious. Bravek nearly slammed the door in my face and had I not been stronger then he, he would have succeeded. With little effort, I shoved open the door, grabbed Bravek by the collar of his mail shirt and demanded he tell me all he knew. The man began to sob uncontrollably and insisted that he knew nothing and even if he did, they would kill him for even being seen with me. In a fit of blubbering, he told me if I wanted to know about the Zamorak mages, to visit the shack at the end of the street on the west side of the town. He told me that a man lived there who would be able to help me. In disgust, I dropped Bravek to the ground and watched as he scampered into the next room and locked the door behind him. With renewed effort, I began to make my way down the last street heading west in the city. After a time, I came to a single, lonely, beat down shack. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Again, I knocked on the door and was greeted with silence. Drawing my sword, I slowly opened the door and looked inside. It appeared to be empty, but I could not help but have the feeling I was being watched. Gently, I began to search the shack for any evidence I could to help me find my answers. It was as I entered the back room that I heard the mumbling from the closet. With a firm hand, I grabbed the doorknob of the closet and jerked it open. A bright blue light exploded in my head and I found that I could not move a muscle. A sinister laugh emerged from the closet. Finally, I was able to determine that whatever spell he had used had knocked me to my back on the floor and I was completely paralyzed. A middle-aged man now crouched over me grinning back at me. Laughing, he replied, “All you fighters are just alike! You rush into finding out what is going on before you take the time to think it out. My friend, what is your name?” Not knowing why I spoke, I answered, “I am Amickon.”
“Good, good. Now, Amickon, tell me why you are bothering the Dark Mage in his own home?”
I could not help myself...again I spoke without trying. “I am here to find the knight of King Roland who was kidnapped by Zamorak mages!”
“Ah, I see.” Said the Dark Mage. “Do not worry my Lord Amickon, I will take you to him personally.” An evil and diabolical laugh escaped his lips as he waved his hand over my face and everything went black.
I do not know how long I had been out…hours, days, weeks, or months. When I did awake, I could smell the dank and moist odor of earth and rot. Opening my eyes more, I realized I was in the bottom of a very deep hole. All of my belongings had been removed with the exception of my pants, shirt, and boots. After clearing my head, I began to try to figure a way out of this trap. After several attempts of trying to climb out, I discovered that on one wall of my prison, the ground was a bit softer than the rest. I began to make handholds and foot holds pulling myself up farther and farther. After what seemed like hours, I finally made my way to the top of the hole and slowly peeked over it. Seeing no one in sight, I scrambled out of the pit and made my way down a long passageway. This passageway led to another, which led to another and another. I don’t know how long I traveled in this underground maze, but I slept when I got tired and tired to drink any water I found along the walls of the passageways. Days must have passed because I was extremely hungry and my strength was waning. I sat down to contemplate the fact that I was about to die in this underground nowhere and no one even knew where I was when I heard the shouting. Yes, it was shouting…defiant shouting as if challenging someone to fight! I got up and began to follow the sound. After several wrong turns, I came out of a passageway into a large cavernous room. I recognized this place! It was the center of the underground passage! I had come out right in the middle of Iban’s altar! Around the altar was a ring of Zamorak mages, powerful magic emanating off of them! I heard a shuffle to my left and quietly ducked back into the passageway when two Zamorak monks passed by. As the last one was about to disappear from the opening of my passageway, I reached out and grabbed him around the mouth and throat and pulled him inside. With a quick twist, I broke his neck. Moving quickly, I removed his robe and placed it on myself drawing the hood close to my face. Stifling the smell of death on the robe, I stepped out of the passageway and followed the other monk who had passed by. Suddenly he stopped. Looking up, I saw King Roland’s knight in full battle armor chained up against the wall. The other monk took up a position on the other side of the knight. A thought slowly crept into my head as I put my hand into the pocket of the robe and felt a metal key resting there. The first chance I got, I would unlock the knight and we would kill all these infidels and make our way out. As I was forming my plan, the mages around the altar began to chant. A surge of magic rushed through the place and hit the altar. The head mage, with power beaming from his presence, began to place objects, which I could not see, on the altar. The chanting increased and another wave of magic surged into the altar. With each surge, the mages increased their spell casting and soon the altar began to hum and thump like a heartbeat. Suddenly, three feet above the altar, a sickly green and pink light began to pulsate. With each pulsing of the altar, the light got bigger and shone with a brighter pink. Without warning, the chained knight began to scream challenges and thrash against his bindings. With a great shout, the head mage shouted, “Release him!” I knew this was my moment. Without hesitation, I withdrew the key from my robe pocket and unlocked the knight’s chains. As the other monk was trying to undue his locks from his side, I discarded my robes and shouted to the knight, “I am Amickon! King Roland has sent me to aid you! What can I do?” Without speaking, the knight handed me a hammer of pure white. He then drew a sword the likes of which I had never seen. It was two handed and gleamed whiter than anything I had ever seen in my life. Could this actually be the Sword of Sardomin? Before I could contemplate further, the knight rushed the altar. Suddenly, the light above the altar flashed in a tremendous blaze, and stepping out of the light and standing on the altar was the strangest thing I have ever seen. It was a bird of sorts, pure pink of feather with a long black beak. The strangest thing though was that it stood on only one leg and stared out with a glaring red eye! In a full battle fury, the knight rushed the bird and with a mighty stroke of the Sword of Sardomin, cut the bird in two pieces. Turning, the knight lowered his sword to face the circle of mages. Silence filled the room for several moments, then slowly the monks began to snicker and laugh. Not understanding, I rushed to the knight to help him. It was then that I noticed the two pieces of the bird were twitching and flopping around and suddenly; there were two of the pink devils! Laughter filled the air as the monks looked on in triumph. “You see dear knight, we have combined the magic’s of Sardomin AND Zamorak…red and white, to create the ultimate bane on Gielinor…the Pink Flamingo! It will go out into the land and confuse any who try or dare destroy it!” I turned to look at the knight and could tell that he was already into the beginnings of a berserker rage. With a might shout, he began to hack and slash at the flamingos, and with each slice two more would spring up. The four quickly became eight and then sixteen and then thirty-two. The circle around the altar was beginning to fill up with the foul birds, but the knight kept swinging. Suddenly, the head mage raised his Staff of Iban and blasted a hole in the top of the cavern and sunlight slammed into the darkness momentarily blinding all who where there. Realizing what this would mean, I attempted to stop the knight from slicing the birds…but he would not listen to reason. He was too far-gone in his berserker rage. “Fly my fiends! Fly to the ends of Gielinor! Cause havoc wherever you go!” shouted the head mage. It was then I felt the hammer the knight had given me in my hand. With one quick swing, I smashed the knight in the side of the head knocking him to the ground! Already several of the flamingos had made their way out of the ceiling and into the free air. “NO!” Shouted the head mage as he rushed at me with the Staff of Iban held high. With a wide sweeping motion, he swung the staff down towards my head. With a quick movement, I dodged the swing. The staff hit squarely on the center of the altar. Without hesitation, I swung my hammer directly at the center of the altar and struck the Staff of Iban and the altar at the same time. The staff exploded in a blinding flash of light and the altar broke straight down the middle. A low rumbling around the altar began as a sickly red portal opened up above the smashed altar. The Zamorak mages began screaming and clutching their heads as one by one, the essence of their life force was sucked into the portal leaving behind robes full of bones. I began to feel the pull on my own essence as I rushed to the knight. Looking down at him, I noticed he was wearing an Amulet of Glory. I quickly grabbed the amulet, rubbed it and shouted, “Edgeville!” I don’t know if the pull I felt was from the amulet or from the portal above the altar, but in my haze, I do know I made it to Edgeville. A crowd gathered around us as we materialized and fell to the ground. I felt hands on us as I fell into unconsciousness. The next few days were a blur coming in and out of consciousness. I awoke in King Roland’s castle where I had been ill for over two months. Very weak, I was able to tell King Roland what had happened, and I learned that I had hit the knight upon the head with the Hammer of Sardomin and he had not survived the blow. So much for my reward. I had also learned that the Hammer or Sardomin had been destroyed in the explosion of the altar, and the Sword of Sardomin had been stolen in Edgeville. As I began to retell the story of the Pink Flamingos, the horror of it became too much for me, and I lost consciousness once again. The damage to my psyche and mental state was much greater than anyone could image. I was in a psychic coma for almost a year. During that time, I remember seeing a beautiful maiden warrior who spoke to me kindly and a strong and fierce fighter who came with her. I remember waking up and finding myself in a very cozy room. Rising out of bed, I looked out the window and saw that I was in a tower that floated above the clouds! I was amazed and fearful at the same time. It was then that I heard the door to my room open. In stepped three individuals of great power! The beautiful maiden warrior in my dreams introduced herself as Fury, her two companions was the fierce fighter, Loki, and their wise and powerful leader Shovel. All three were part of a powerful clan whose members were as close as family. They had heard of my tale from King Roland, and decided to take care of me until I was strong enough to tell all of it. I had been unconscious for almost ten months. With some trepidation, I told my tale of the pink flamingos and how they came into being. Fire was building behind the eyes of Fury and Loki as I told the tale. After my story, they began to tell me horror stories of the pink flamingos and what the were doing to our beloved Gielinor. Many in their clan had vowed to fight them wherever they found them. Without ceremony, they asked me to become part of that clan. I agreed.
Now, several years have passed, but the passion has never left us. The scourge of the pink flamingo still boils in our blood. Each time we encounter one of the hideous birds, I see the fire burst into life behind Fury’s eyes and I am reminded of…. the Beginning of Hate!


Last edited by Amickon on Fri Dec 02, 2011 9:03 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: In Honor of Fury...A Story: The Beginning of Hate!   Fri Dec 02, 2011 8:39 am

AArgh wordblock... u really expect me to read this?
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PostSubject: Re: In Honor of Fury...A Story: The Beginning of Hate!   Fri Dec 02, 2011 9:01 am

Only if you want to or can, Ska! I've made it bigger so maybe that will help LOL.
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PostSubject: Re: In Honor of Fury...A Story: The Beginning of Hate!   Tue Dec 13, 2011 1:58 pm

The story has been up for quite a while now and I guess everyone has had a chance to read it. Unless there is just a big ruckus about it, I will probably take it down after Christmas. Thanks for reading it and I hope you enjoyed it!
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PostSubject: Re: In Honor of Fury...A Story: The Beginning of Hate!   Tue Dec 13, 2011 7:00 pm

NO. DON'T TAKE IT DOWN
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PostSubject: Re: In Honor of Fury...A Story: The Beginning of Hate!   Tue Dec 13, 2011 7:19 pm

This is awesome! please keep this up =)
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PostSubject: Re: In Honor of Fury...A Story: The Beginning of Hate!   Fri Dec 16, 2011 1:19 pm

You have to keep it up amickon or we will never win this war over the flamingos this stroy warns those who are innocent to the flamingo tale
Fury flower
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