Ok it snowed today so I had some spare time to write this.
And there's some problems arising too. If you read the last chapter you're probably thinking..."What has this got to do with Runescape?"
Well...I want something different. Your usual RS story is probably a day in RS or just some random noob's rants. Or a written version of an event that happened in RS. Some RS stories however, are very well written and I read them over and over a lot. However one theme seems to reoccur and that is people getting sucked inside RS or some character being thrust out into the real world. I'm not saying that's the only stories around.
There are different stories but I have yet to find a story like the one I am writing right now.
(NOTE-If anyone finds a story that is much different than the ones you usually see, please PM me with a link.
And even if this story turns out to be a flop and everyone hates this story, I still want a change how the stories are written. Maybe people will think about writing farther than the game itself.
And last chapter you were thrust into a different world, maybe its a good idea to go back to the RS we know and (maybe) love.
DISCLAIMER-I don't own what I don't own.
***
Mark's eyes where drooping as he waited out the storm. Until he finally fell asleep. Inside his head, he was wishing for Chaos.
He was labeled a nerd, weirdo, and "mentally frighting."
Out of his class, no, the whole world of Runescape, only he wanted to go to Chaos. He wasn't frightened by the though of having to deal with metallic monsters that supposedly shot fire. Instead he wanted to meet the people. To see if anyone had changed. In Runescape, the warm-hearted population was tainted by greedy warlords. The peace was interrupted by bloodthirsty fiends, since Chaos was the opposite, could they have had the same effect? Could some people from Chaos have changed from the cold and warlike attitude to accepting and nice people? He thought so. He had hope.
Then a flash of lightning. He was awake in a second.
"At least the storms packing up..."
"Ey youngin'..."
He looked behind him.
There was Leonardo, the janitor.
"Hey Leo."
No one knew how old Leo was, even at his age, he was strong, you had to be strong in order to remove stains. Some say if you had problems with history, you should go to Leo.
"So eh...what are ye thinkin' about now?"
"History..."
"Ahh...history. When?"
"The beginning."
Leo smiled.
"Wot about the start?"
"Chaos"
"Chaos....Chaos... opposite of home eh? Look uh...it's getting' a bit dark, why doncha' ead' on home?"
"Alright then, see you"
"You too youngin'."
He walked out of the evening school. And got ready to walk home.
Mark's home was nothing much really. Just everything for himself. A bedroom and kitchen was all he needed. Until he saw a flier under the door about the void knights. They where calling out to all of the able and ready. A massive surge of monsters in the last few months.. Even with the highly trained knights, they where having trouble. Anyone who helped where given free room and board...
He was a fighter, until he got an injury that made him get bed rest for about two months. And when he came back, the fighting team already had their new star. He was forgotten about and he was forced to quit fighting. He was devastated, and he was homeless for about a week or so. Until he got enough money to buy a place for himself in Varrock. There he studied the thing that he used to despise so much. Until he found out his previously unknown fascination for the past. And he was reeled in. His life was about history.
He could still fight. Maybe he could be of some use. His part-time job at the general store was paying off. He had never counted his money. Only banked it. For the first time he withdrew all of his money. And was surprised. With a paycheck of just three hundred coins a day he worked for a few years getting a raise for working the holidays and weekends. He had enough money to buy the best armor there was.
A few hours later.
Strapped on his back was a box which contained the best armor in existence, no need to wear it where it wasn't needed. He also bought a matching battleaxe and shield from nearby stores.
He bought a ticket for a ferry heading down river towards port Sarim.
When in port Sarim he saw a sign advertising their need of help in the outpost, he made his way to the boat reserved for fighters going to the outpost. He also saw many people boarding the boat. Sitting down near the window he heard some shouting.
"Sir, please get in your seat."
"But I HAD a seat, down under with no windows!"
"Sir get back in your seat NOW, or we will toss you overboard." The stewardess emphasized the word now.
The man groaned. He sat down next to Mark.
"Do you know how long you can last in open sea? If the boat goes down we go down too! Then there are sharks, sea snakes, and then there's the Leviathan...."
"Agoraphobic?"Mark asked.
"Wuzzat?"the man asked with his head between his hands.
"Agoraphobia, fear of open waters."
"Oh yeah...Names Tib, short for Tiberius.
"Mark, ex-arena team member, champion for two years straight...and such."
"Nice to meet ya"
"You too..."
Arriving there he saw a massive amount of people trying to get on the landers that ferried people to and from the island with the portals. He even saw some people with the same type of armor that he had.
He booked a room for himself and ate a small meal before heading out to the dock where the lander where.
He donned the armor he had bought only recently. While he put on the armor, it was like a blast from the past. He could imagine the battle arena that he had fought in so many times before. He held up his battleaxe and gave it a little swing. He smirked, satisfied.
***
"FIRE!"
All of the rangers unleashed their arrows simultaneously. There were explosions as the nitroglycerin tied to the heads of the arrows burst into flames and the warriors heaved their weapons and with a roar, killed monster after monster. Mark was having the time of his life. When he fought he usually fought with nothing but instinct, he was happy, not having to follow any rules. When the last portal where the monsters appeared was destroyed, a mental message flooded all of the minds of the fighters.
"Our day is done, all fighters report back to the landers."
He groaned as he stretched his tired muscles. The ride back to the outpost seemed to take an eternity. After making a stop to his room to take off his armor and cloths to take a quick bath, he headed down to the mess hall for dinner.
He waited in line for his dinner. Today they where serving bread rolls, salmon, raw cabbages, and a good mug of ale. He chose a seat alone, until Tib sat down next to him.
"So, ow's it going?" Tib started to munch on the bread rolls before switching to the salmon which he ate with vigor.
"Oh yeah, good. Been able to kill a lot today. A few ravagers tore down the whole fence...took a helluva lot of time to repair them all. Then during that time we had spinners healing the portals so that was bad too. But the worst... brawlers where everywhere...we had to kill one just to move a few feet."
"Damn...bad day uh'?."
"Bad last few months is more like it."
Tib laughed.
"Ain't it always?"
"Yup."
***
Can you see a similarity to a 2009 movie in here?
Ain't telling the movie.