The sound of a hammer hitting a hot piece of metal, it was music to my ears, before I associated it with another event. My name is Suiro, my family runs a smithy in Burthorpe, we handle everything, repairing, producing, modifying. We were also a neutral shop, which meant we got a lot of threats from people who thought we should pick a side in the clan wars.
Maybe I should start again, it's the year 1206 PC the gods were banished from our world, after a decade of bloody war, generations ago. The person who banished them also made it so they could never return, people call him the 'Saviour'. They say he fought all the gods at once, and still had enough power to completely sever the connection between the mortal and immortal realms. He vanished shortly after however, never to be seen again, eventually people started trying to take over what was left of Gielinor. Clans were formed for this purpose, once they had been in service of the lands, now they fought to control the lands, people started calling it the 'clan wars'.
As I said, my family was neutral, emphasis on the WAS, sigh, maybe I should start from the beginning of it all, the day I was thrown into the world by The King's Death.
I struck the hot piece of metal, it was to be a sword, it rang out rhythmically, I knew it was going to be a good one. The day was cold, but the forge made the inside of the smithy warm, I plunged the metal into a nearby bucket of water, steam rose. Life was as peaceful as you could get in these times, Burthorpe was far away from the front lines of the clan wars.
"The sound of a hammer hitting an anvil, oh that takes me back." Says a stranger as he enters the smithy.
"Can I help you?" I ask him, looking up from my work.
"My sword needs repairing, peasant." He replies, unsheathing his sword and throwing it down on my work bench.
"Perhaps if you treated it with more respect, it might not need to be repaired as often." I reply, putting down the sword I had been working on, and inspecting the one he had rudely placed on my workbench.
"It's a sword, it doesn't need respect, what it needs is a good smith, and the one who was travelling with me was killed outside your fair town this morning, a bloody waste of 300 gold coins." He replies, inspecting his nails.
"It'll take about that much for me to even think about repairing your sword." I respond.
"Bah, surely you must jest!" he says, looking surprised at my statement.
"I need to make a living, and times are harder here than they may have been in Misthalin, and I will charge you what I feel the job is worth, and here it will take a fair amount of work, increasing the price, you're better off buying a new sword." I answer, handing him the sword.
"Fine, I will take your best sword, at half price of course." He says throwing his old sword to the ground.
"You'll pay full price, or you won't get it at all!" I say, getting annoyed with the man.
"Watch your tongue peasant, do you know who I am?" He says, reaching for the side of his cape.
"Frankly, I don't care, but if you're not paying, then get out of my smithy!" I yell at him, pointing to the door.
"I am an officer of The King's Death, you'd be good to respect me we took control of this area last evening!"
"I don't give a damn! Unless you willing to pay full price, then you can hit the road!" I yell, picking up the sword I had been working on.
"You'll regret this." He says as he walks out.
I hated people with a sense of entitlement like him, they lowered the world's IQ, I started heating up the sword in the forge it would at least another 48 hours of work before it would be ready for use. I started hitting the sword with my hammer, I'd been doing this my whole life, I knew nothing else, this was my life. I worked on the sword until I became hungry, at which point I went into town to get something to eat, as I left the smithy, I noticed that the town was different, green and black banners now flew from poles, that had obviously just been set up. I walked into town, the day was cold, but my cloak was warm, I picked up some bread and cheese, then began making my way back toward my smithy. As I was walking out of the town square I was stopped by several men with the colours of the banner on their capes, they were dressed in simple bronze armour.
"I heard you refused to give proper service to a member of the clan." The biggest one says, resting his hand on his sword.
"I have the right to refuse service to people I don't like."
"Not officers from The King's Death, we saved your little town here, so we get certain benefits." He replies.
"Do I look like I care?" I ask them, annoyed.
"Maybe we should teach you a lesson." One of them says, cracking his knuckles.
"Yes, do so, this peasant has disrespected the way of things." A man says from behind, "Peasant prepare to face the force of The King's Death."
The 3 large brutes that had been blocking my path attacked, I side stepped the first strike, and used the iron bracers I wore to deflect the second, the third missed me entirely, they were using spears. I noticed that they had swords strapped to their belt, before I quite knew what I was doing, I grabbed one of the swords, and pulled it free of it sheathe. I used it to cut a gash into one of the attackers, through a chink in his armour, as his blood splattered, I felt all reason leave me, they were trying to kill me. I dropped the bag with the food I had just bought, and drove the sword into the same chink I had cut him through, dodging the others spears all the while. He gasped, trying to catch his breath, I pulled the sword free, he dropped to the ground, trying to catch his breath, I continued my attack, quickly immobilizing the other 2.
Behind them the officer who had tried to buy a sword from earlier, stood, looking frightened, he drew his sword, and assumed a fighting stance, it was sloppy. I lunged at him, as my sword made contact with his ankle, he made a yelping noise, and dropped to the ground, somehow managing to hold onto his sword. Just as I was about to go in for the kill, a crimson scimitar blocked my attack, surprised I jumped back, and re-examined my opponent. Standing between me and him, was a man dressed in royal dragon hide armour, his cloak was red and gold, and he was wielding 2 swords. He put off an aura of power, frankly he was frightening, he seemed to be on another level from me, I hesitated, and ultimately ceased my attack.
"Are you a member of The King's Death?" I ask him, my muscles tensing to strike.
"I am not." He replies, sheathing his swords.
"Then get out of my way." I tell him, raising my sword.
"We need to talk." He says, only he's not in front of me anymore, he's behind me.
Startled I start to swing around, but he catches my arm, and immobilizes me.
"What is there to talk about?" I ask him, trying to move, his strength was inhuman.
"Do you know about the 'Saviour'?" he says, his voice lower than before.
"Of course, everyone knows about the Saviour." I answer.
"Did you know he had a son?" The man asks, time seems to be slowing down.
"No, I did not."
"Interesting." He says, as he releases my arm.
"What do you want?" I ask him, rubbing my wrist.
"I wanted to see the descendent." He says turning around, as he turns around, I see his right arm is glowing.
"The 'descendent'?" I say, confused, "Who are you?"
"I apologize for not introducing myself sooner, my name is Devarius Hex, I've been travelling for quite some time to find you it seems."
"What would you want with me?" I say, perplexed.
"You're the descendant, the descendant of the saviour." He responds, turning to look at me, with hard eyes.
"I am not, I'm not some special descendant I'm a bloody blacksmith!" I insist.
"And I assume beating down 3 trained warriors is part of the job?" Devarius says, looking at me with a serious expression.
"Well… no, but I'm not unfamiliar with a sword." I reply.
"The blood of the Saviour gives you his instincts." Devarius says, reaching into a pouch on his belt.
"What the hell do you mean 'his instincts?!" I yell, my head feeling dizzy.
"You just fought off 3 trained men, and you question what I'm saying?"
"I… I don't know, I just…." I stammer.
"You're looking a little pale, you alright?" Devarius says, a look of concern on his face.
"I… I'm just a little dizzy." I manage, as I pass out.
I'm standing on a high cliff, overlooking a battlefield, smoke rises from burning war machines, 2 massive figures clash from opposing lines. Trying to reason what they are, I figure they're gods, Saradomin, and Zamorak most likely, the scene is gruesome, even from high on a cliff, rivers and lakes run red. War cries, and clashing weapons can be heard for miles, I try to look away, but my body won't listen to me.
The scene continues for some time before I finally turn around, behind me is a massive glowing orb, and a pillar of light, I raise my hands and channel magical energies. The feeling is almost painful, draining, I feel the life flow into the giant glowing orb, then back into me, then back 2 fold into the orb. This continues for several minutes, before something finally happens, the orb shoots into the sky, the sky seems to break. The energy ripples through the world, the sky darkens, and the fighting stops, a booming cry can be heard over everything, the cry of Zamorak, realizing what's happening. Suddenly light rains down on the landscape, digging deep trenches, and incinerating combatants, panic ensues, a boom like thunder, seems to crack the ground.
Then suddenly it's all over, the sky returns to normal, and I turn around, the landscape is scarred, and the titan forms of the gods are gone. I collapse to the ground, my right eye seems to burn, my body seems weak, I try to stand, but succeed only in rising to a kneel. Suddenly my right eye goes black, then pops, blood splatters on the ground in front of me, and begins dripping down my face. My hand goes to the bleeding socket, everything seems heavier, my body feels like its aging, I drop to the ground, blood pouring from my right eye socket. The pain of it all is excruciating, but I can't seem to wake up, then suddenly the world fades to black, and I wake, I'm lying in a bed, not my own.
"Where am I?" I ask to the air above me.
"Burthorpe's infirmary, you passed out." Devarius says standing over me.
"I dreamed something… something awful…" I say, trying to wrap my mind around the images I had just seen.
"It was pretty awful, the final battle." Devarius says, wearing many more years than his face should allow.
"You speak like you were there, who the hell are you?' I ask him, sitting up in the bed.
"I was a friend of your ancestors, the saviour in particular, and I've followed your family for over 300 years." He answers, smiling a bit.
"H… how old are you?" I ask him.
"I lost count some time ago, but a good estimate is somewhere over 1500 years." He answers, leaning back in the chair he's sitting in.
"What do you want with me?"
"The clan wars are close to ending, and there are 2 main clans fighting at this point." He says, looking solemn, "The one that's taken over your town, and the one from the north."
"The King's Death, and Valhallius." I reply.
"Yes, one must win, and I believe the descendant should align himself with one, you must choose a side in this war your dream is proof that it is time to end the bloodshed!" Devarius says, his face darkening with a look of despair.
"I refuse, I'm neutral in all this I will not align myself with one side or the other." I reply, getting up from the bed.
Devarius' face displays a look of controlled anger, then it dissipates, and he breaks into a laugh.
"You're just like him, you really are." Devarius says, wiping his right eye.
"Am I? How could I be like someone who died centuries ago?"
"When confronted with a situation like this, the saviour would've chosen to remain neutral as well, following the teachings of Guthix." Devarius says, his face filled with a look of nostalgia.
"Guthix? I have only ever heard legends about Guthix, the tale goes that the books harboured by druids were burned when he died." I answer, putting my cloak on.
"The books that taught the lessons of Guthix preached balance, I followed it, the saviour followed it, and we both came to the conclusion that the gods pushed the world in imbalance, thus it became necessary to deal with them permanently. You saw the result of that decision in your dream."
"How did you know that was what my dream was about?" I ask him.
"Because you passed out when I started talking about the saviour, his blood was irradiated with the divine power of Saradomin from years of exposure from his eye, this passed his most powerful memories into his children, born after he gained the eye." Devarius says, standing from his chair, "That proves that you are the descendant!"
"I will not assist you in this goddamn war!" I yell at him, angry at his persistence.
"You don't have a choice anymore." He almost whispers as I turn and leave the infirmary.
I walked across Burthorpe, back to my smithy, when I arrived all I saw was a smouldering ruin, left over from the destruction of my family's greatest treasure. I dropped to my knees, everything I had had was gone, left in its place, was a smouldering hole, filled with rage and sorrow. A horse comes up behind me, then an announcer reads off a scroll,
"By order of the first minister of The King's Death, Burthorpe is to provide its armies with 1 male for every piece of property owned, your assets will be repossessed if you are single and own property." The man read, behind him several men in heavy army came to a stop their armour clattering.
"You'd better listen, peasant." A familiar voice says from behind me.
"YOU!" I yell as I whip around, and wrapped my hands around his throat, tears streaming from my eyes.
"YOU'VE TAKEN EVERYTHING I HAD AWAY FROM ME! MY FORGE, MY FAMILY'S HOME, AND EVERYTHING PASSED TO ME BY MY PARENTS!" I yell as I stop the flow of air into his lunges.
Shocked onlookers backed away, the soldiers of The King's Death began to intervene, then the man on the horse held up his hand. They stopped and look at him confused, the man I'm strangling starts gurgling, his eyes turn bloodshot, then begin to roll back in his head. I dig my thumbs into his neck, blood squirts from where my nails make contact with his skin, he starts spitting blood from his mouth. Then he stops moving, stops struggling, his body slumps, kept aloft only my hands on his neck, a ringing begins in my ears, everything seems to be moving slow. I release his neck, the body of the man that had once stood before me, now lay in a heap on the ground, dead.
A man from behind the group of armoured fighters, begins clapping, then walks through the crowd, his armour is gilded, his cloak adorned with oriental designs, and the symbols of The King's Death. His figure is otherwise slender, his face has vicious angles, almost inhuman, he looked at me with blood thirsty eyes he had obviously enjoyed the killing of one of his comrades.
"Bravo, bravo, I haven't seen such glorious bloodlust since the battle of Rimmington!" He says, his voice resonates with a Kandarin accent.
"I… I killed a man…" I stammer, shocked at what I had just done.
"Yes, yes you did, and you've earned yourself a spot on one of The King's Death, special squads." He says, squatting to make eye contact with me, as I dropped to the ground, still in shock at what I had done.
"Wh… why…" I say, frightened tears rolling down my face.
"You've already drawn the blood of a comrade, thus I have no other choice but to place you in a special squad, or else I would have to kill you." The man says, grabbing my chin, and examining my face as I struggle to comprehend the fact that I was now a murderer.
"Welcome to The King's Death." He says as I black out.
In my dream, this time I see happier images, a field overlooking a pristine marble city, a small house, and in the house a beautiful women. I realized that I was with her, we had a child, things seemed happy, I was telling her that I had to leave, that I was being deployed to Karamja. I walked out of the house with the hope to return to it soon, then I was on a tropical island, the waves crashed against the shore, I sat half naked in a barrack. Then I was panicking, trying to get off the island, and back to the mainland, that pristine city was under attack. Suddenly I was in that little house, it was burning, I burst through one of the doors, then sunk my sword into a man dressed in black armour.
Then I took a baby from him as he slumped to the ground, I felt tears in my eyes, I left the room, I helped the woman, and we fled. Then I was on a boat, the women seemed to be mortally wounded, I jumped overboard to save her, by taking to her to someone who could save her. Then I was in another house, by her bedside, she seemed to be recovering, I was happy, happier than I had ever been. Then I woke up, the air was cold, the smell of the air reeked of rotting flesh, I sat up, to see several other people with me, one of them was nibbling on a leg, a severed leg. Another was sharpening his knife, and licking his teeth, which were yellow, and had pieces stuck between them, there was one in the corner, rocking back and forth a crazy look in his eyes.
The man sitting next to me seemed to be pretty normal, he seemed to be frightened, and was panicking, we were on a barge.
"So," I say to him, he jumps when he sees I'm awake, "I'm assuming you're here for a similar reason I am."
"You killed one them, didn't you?" He says, his eyes filled with guilt, and regret.
"Yes, I did, I strangled him in a fit of rage, and then I blacked out." I say, trying to forget that awful event.
"They were trying to take my son, I never meant to kill him, I only wanted to save my boy." he responds, putting his hands to his ears, "Now I've ended up in a worse hell."
"Listen, you and me look to be the only sane ones here." I say gesturing to other people on the barge, "We gotta stick together, keep each other sane, you know?"
"I understand what your saying..." He says, looking at me with fear in his eyes, "but will it be enough to survive?
"Yes it will be, we'll make it through this." I reply, patting him on the back, "My name's Suiro by the way, I was a blacksmith back in Burthorpe."
"My name is Hans, I was a merchant, nice to meet you."
"You're both gonna be eaten alive when we get there." One of the crazies says, licking his knife, "They want' us to be bat shit crazy, then they can use us on suicide missions!" he lets out a disgusting sounding laugh.
"Ya, dey gonna teach us' ta kill wit our' bare hands." The man nibbling on the leg says, holding up his left hand.
"I hear they kill whoever they think won't make it, no warning they just stick a spear in the back of your head." The frightened one in the corner says, looking nervously from side to side.
"We'll see bout' at, here we are'"
Off in the distance we see a shore, one of the men standing on the shore jumps, then lands in the barge, he has scars all over his face, he looks at us from head to toe. Immediately he draws one of 5 bronze swords attached to his belt, and impales the frightened man in the corner through the chest, he lets out a croak, and begins gasping for air. He pulls the sword free, then returns it to its sheathe, he speaks with a low and intense voice,
"Listen up psychos, each of you are going to get a bronze sword, when this barge reaches the shore, you have 15 days to reach the volcano, if you make it, you get a place in the special squad, if you don't, well I pity your soul." He says, unsheathing the swords and dropping them on the floor of the barge, "If I decide I don't like you, I will kill you, so pray I don't find you in the mountains, if you die close to the shore, have the courtesy to die in the barge, makes it easier at the end, and gives the next batch something to snack on." The man says, his lips curling in an insane smile.
"This his hell." I mutter under my breath.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" the man yells, grabbing one of the swords and attempting to impale me.
I see the sword moving in slow motion, I use my hand to move the path of the sword so it passes by my head, then I grab the man's arm. I twist it so the sword is released, the man doesn't seemed phased in fact he looks pleased that I had the balls to do that.
"I guess that's my sword." I say, he nods with a grin like a hyena.
The barge crashes onto the shore of an icy mountain range, immediately the crazies grab themselves swords from the pile, and make off into the distance. I continue to sit on the barge, Hans next me, we've both selected swords, but the situation was still sinking in.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" The man says, slowly unsheathing the final bronze sword.
"We're going." I say, standing and prompting Hans to do the same.
We leave the barge, and make our way into the mountain range, survival would be harsh in these mountains, there was little to eat beyond the occasional rabbit, or wolf. We walked for the rest of the day, the air was cold, it stung our faces, eventually we decided to call it a night and build a campsite. Somehow, I managed to get a fire started, Hans digs out a shelter in the snow, then reinforces it with dead branches from a nearby tree.
The night is cold, and we sleep close to conserve our body heat, in the middle of the night we hear a blood curdling scream, both of us jolt awake, and reach for our swords. I go out first, survey the landscape, then decide it wasn't near us, I go back into our shelter, and sleep the rest of the night. The next morning I wake with a cramped neck, we quickly breakdown our campsite, then continue in the direction we agreed the volcano was in.
"The scream last night…" Hans says, shivering from the cold.
"Yeah, I think that man found one of the crazies." I say, I glance at him for a moment, he was pale, and shaking, "Would you like to borrow my cloak?"
"Are you sure? It is pretty cold out here." He replies, a look of desire in his eyes.
"I dress warmly, I can afford to lend off my cloak." I respond, removing my cloak, and handing it to Hans, he takes it with almost greedy hands.
"They could've at least given us warm clothes to wear." Hans gripes as we ascend one of the smaller mountains.
"I think that's the point of this, to kill the people who aren't tough enough to make it." I say, as I survey the range from atop the mountain.
"Who could survive this?" Hans says, sounding depressed.
"We're doing pretty well right now." I reply, trying to lighten the mood.
"What about when we get there?" Hans says, looking off into the distance.
"I don't know, I just don't know." I answer, dreading the future.
It takes us 9 days to reach the volcano, we're the only ones who make it, the man with the scarred face looks happy. In the time it took us to get there, we came across the dead bodies of the other 2 recruits, and were forced to eat one of them. We were impeded by the local wildlife, and bandits, ultimately by the time we reached the volcano, we were physical exhausted, and mentally destroyed.
"Good job to both of you." The man says.
"I am Sergeant Cleaver, the commanding psycho of special squad." He says, spreading his arms in a semi-welcoming gesture, "Welcome to the special squad, your final test is to fight each other, he who survives, gets a place on the special squad."
"You can't do this!" Hans screams, his eyes filled with terror.
"Oh I can, and I will." Sergeant Cleaver replies, drawing a wicked looking rune Cleaver from its sheathe on his back."
"Hans, listen I don't think we have a choice in this matter, we have to fight." I say, the Sergeant nods in agreement.
"But I can't fight you, you're my friend, I can't fight you, even if it means my death." Hans says, throwing down his sword.
"What about your family?" The Sergeant says, his grin expanding, his face looking more and more psychotic.
"Don't you dare hurt my family!" Hans screams, his face contorted in horror.
"Then fight!" Cleaver yells pointing to the sword on the ground.
With tears streaming down his face, he picks it up with shaking hands, and assumes a fighting stance, I raise my sword, and tap the tip of his. He nods in agreement, then lunges, I parry, then counter, he manages to block my first blow, as we get into the fight, things seem to slow down for me. Before I know what's going on, I disarm Hans, and sink my sword into his stomach, he lets out a gasp of pain, and falls forward, pushing the blade further in. His blood drips down onto the hilt, my hands still wrapped around it, I nap back to my senses, and see a horribly sight, my friend, impaled by my sword. I scream, then start violently shaking, I drop to the ground, and let go of the sword, Hans falls forward onto me.
"Hans…" I stammer, my body feeling colder.
"Suiro… listen to me…" Hans manages.
"Yes what?" I say, feeling my body beginning to get weaker.
"I… I need you… to tell… my fa… my family…. That I… that I love them…" He manages, not long after he dies, his blood soaks into my clothes, I sit there, in shock.
Just as I'm coming to my senses, Sergeant Cleaver pulls the bronze sword from Hans motionless body, the sword rips open his lower abdomen. His internal organs became external, and got thrown all over me, I screamed, the sight was too horrible to properly process. I fall backwards trying to get away from the sight, Sergeant Cleaver grabs one of Hans organs and puts it over my head, I scream again. My body is panicking, I try to look away, close my eyes, but the other psychos force my eyes open, the air stings them, I scream even louder, struggling to push them away. They pin my arms and legs down, then put the organs over my head, Sergeant Cleaver picks them up, one at a time, then pops them, and lets them fall over my face.
At one point I swallowed some of it, at that point, I started laughing, this couldn't be real, this was a dream, an awful, awful dream. I laughed, I felt my face contort in a wretched smile, and I stopped struggling, the psychos let me go, I sat up, then continued to laugh. They pull me to my feet, and pat me on my back, my vision is clouded, things seem blurry, I take a step forward, it doesn't feel like I'm in control of my body anymore. They clothe me in new armour, and a cloak displaying the sings of The King's Death, then we begin the long trip back to the shore, leaving my old clothes, and friend where they had fallen. When we reach the shore a boat is waiting, we board it, it takes us to Port Phasmatys, where we disembark and make way to Canifis.
"Watch the sides of the road, monsters enjoy ambushing convoys, even those with The King's Death." Sergeant Cleaver says, tapping his sword belt.
"They're blood will taste good over a roast." I say, licking my lips.
"Your bloodlust makes me jealous." Says one of the other members of the convoy.
"Careful what you say, Chi, might rend you with the enemy." Cleaver says, letting out a hearty laugh.
"What happens when we get to Canifis?" I ask Cleaver, "I am eager to baptize my new blade."
"When we reach Canifis, we're to wait for further orders, but nothing says we can't have a bit of fun while we wait, there's plenty of people in Canifis, you can have as much fun as you want when we get there." Cleaver replies, a look of anticipation on his face.
It takes us 2 days to reach Canifis from Port Phasmatys, when we arrive, the local inhabitants seal themselves into their dwellings. I lick my lips as I look around, so many people to kill…
"May I?" I ask aloud, noisily drawing my sword.
"No one's going to stop you." Cleaver replies.
I lunge from my horse, and tear through a boarded up window, inside is a family, 1 women and 2 children, I feel a twinge of pain in my chest. I sink my blade into the first child, the into the second, the mother screams in horror as I pull my blade free of her daughter's body. She stares at me with fear in her eyes, I stop, feeling like this wasn't the right course of action.
"It will all be over soon…" I whisper to her, as I run my left hand down her cheek, tears pour from her eyes.
I behead her, her blood tastes good, I feel a twinge of guilt in the back of my mind, but I push it away, and proceed to the next house. I do this three times before Cleaver finally stops me, by then, I had tears in my eyes, and a smile of wretched insanity.
"You're crying." Cleaver says, pointing at my eyes.
"It's… it's… it's just I've never been able to inflict so much pain before…" I whimper, a mix of despair, and enjoyment bubbling up in the pit of my stomach.
"Intoxicating isn't it?" Cleaver replies, licking his lips, "Kill this one slowly, it makes the feeling last longer."
"Ok…" I slowly dig the blade into her thigh, she screams, I almost pull the sword out in horror, but I keep pushing it in.
She screams in agony, the blade reaches her bone, it takes a bit of effort, but eventually the blade passes through the bone. She has a look of horror on face, tears stained her clothes, for some reason I wanted to stop, to stop inflicting pain on her. I ripped the sword free, the plunge it into her chest, then twist, she makes gasping noises as she slowly, and painfully dies.
"You were right…" I say, my voice laced with insane pleasure, "That was ecstasy."
"Just wait till we get a mission, it will be even better." Cleaver says, his arm on my shoulder.
"I can't wait…" I say, tears falling down my face.
That night I dreamed about a battle at a volcano, the ground was utterly black, I swung my sword from enemy to enemy, it seemed to cut through their armour like a knife through butter. I jumped, the ground cracked, I came down with my sword, and it plunged into the head of a demon, the demon exploded into a shower of toxic bits. I block a blow with my shield, the battle has been long, I can feel it in my arms, I sink the blade into a chink in an enemy's armour, and blood sprays me.
For some reason the scene disgusts me, I feel my right eye begin to radiate power, then I'm floating, beams of energy shoot from my eye into the opposing warriors. I launch myself at the volcano, on top my friend is fighting an ancient dragon, I join him, we fight as though we've been fighting with each other for years. The dragon doesn't stand a chance, it falls into the volcano, the volcano begins to rumble, I struggle to keep myself standing, then fall to one knee. I hear his voice, a voice I'd heard before, but from where?
"*******, We need to get our forces out of here!" He yells, his face is battered, streaked with soot, but it looks familiar.
"I'll get as many people as I can away from here, ****, I'm gonna need your help to get them all!" I yell, my voice is also different, more courageous if there can be such a thing.
We begin to channel energy, his arm is glowing, my eye burns with power, we spread a field of energy over the battlefield. Combatants stop and look in horror as the volcano begins to erupt, straining, we begin to activate a teleport spell. The volcano explodes, scared combatants begin running away, my eyes gaze briefly upon someone dressed in rune plate, and a cloak of blue and white. Tears fall from my eyes, then I close them and strain to activate the powers of the teleport even more, it begins to activate. I think of home, I think of a place called 'Lumbridge', the spell goes off, the world is engulfed in white, then I wake with a start.
"Good your awake, we've been given a mission." Cleaver says, looking in my direction.
"What is the job?" I reply, getting up to put my gear on.
"We're to eradicate Burthorpe." Cleaver says, a smile on his face.
"I'm from Burthorpe…" I almost came to my senses at that moment, but an unseen force pushed me back into insanity, I grin, "Sounds fun."
Cleaver, stares at me with a look that says he knew what was going on inside my head.
"Then let's get to it."
We use the Lodestone network to get to Burthorpe quickly, then begin slicing and dicing, with no regard to who was killed. We set fire to the buildings, the people, whatever we thought would burn good, everything else we cut to ribbons. The entire time my eyes were filled with tears, but the feeling was pure ecstasy to my unstable mind, I pushed harder, then my sword broke. By the time it did however, the battle was already over, I stood on a hill overlooking the burning town, Cleaver came up next to me.
"Did your sword break?" He says, glancing at my sword.
"Yes, but it can still kill…" I respond, turning around and sinking the remainder of the blade into Cleaver, he lets a croak, "You're right, watching them suffer is better than killing them quickly."
I twist the stump of a blade, Cleaver winces from the pain, it's obvious he's trying not to scream.
"Scream, scream and I'll stop." I say, twisting the blade even more, feeling Cleaver's blood drip down my hand.
"I don't scream at pain anymore." Cleaver says defiantly.
"Then die slowly." I say as I give the blade one final push.
I dislocate his arms too just to be safe, then tied him to a tree, he sputters curses at me until I begin to walk away.
"That was for Hans." I whisper, a single solitary tear rolling down my face, this would be the last time I cried for a while.