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jahaanofmenaphos · 5 years ago

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Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

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QUEST 05: MISSING, PRESUMED DEATH

QUEST SUMMARY:

Sliske invites all of Gielinor’s returned gods to his ‘grand ascendency’, claiming godhood. Instead, he uses the platform to pit all the gods against one another in a free-for-all that threatens to tear Gielinor apart. Their incentive? The sole survivor will be awarded what every deity is desperate for - the Stone of Jas…

CHAPTER 3: BIRD OF PREY

God emissaries had taken up residence in some of Gielinor’s major cities, preaching to anyone that would listen about why their deity should be worshipped above all else. As one would expect, this didn’t go down too well in some places, especially when you had Saradominist followers preaching in Oo’glog (a Bandosian stronghold), or Zamorakians having the nerve to try and preach in Falador, something the Saradominists had outlawed many years ago. So alongside this supposed ‘undead army’ that came and went, Falador also had an invasion by the black knights to deal with.

Now that the gods had returned, people thought they had the right to excuse despicable, discriminatory behavior, all in the name of religion. The old vampire of Draynor was ousted from his home by a pitchforked mob, accused of being a Zamorakian. In reality, he didn’t worship any deity, and any claims of bloodsucking were entirely made up - he loathed the stuff, preferring to drink milk. Saradomin had pretty much laid claim to all human settlements on Gielinor, save for Taverley and Burthorpe, who remained stoutly Guthixian. No-one else preached there - it was still too soon.

The Dark Wizards Tower had come under attack from their Saradominist counterparts. In return, the Saradominist temple on the outskirts of Morytania came under siege. Some of the ogres that settled near Yanille - who had been keeping to themselves for the better part of a decade - crashed through the city’s gates one sunrise. Meanwhile, in the Kharidian Desert, the bandits in their encampment had started kicking up more of a ruckus than normal; they were one of the few concentrated pockets of Zarosian followers, and they decided to let everybody know.

Gods help anyone who tried to preach on Karamja. Those people were set in their ways, and will kindly introduce you to their friend ‘poisoned spear’ if you dare tell them otherwise.

The peace that had been formed since the end of the God Wars was starting to crumble, and Gielinor was suffering for it.

The worst case of god clashing came in the form of the direct confrontation of two of Gielinor’s major deities: Armadyl and Bados.

Armadyl, the avian god of justice, was the patron deity of the aviantese, a race of birdlike creatures from Abbinah, to which he also belonged. Unfortunately, the God Wars destroyed most of the aviantese. Because of this, Armadyl left Gielinor at the end of the wars to roam the cosmos, mourning his lost kin.

The Armadylean holy book was rarely known beyond the avianse or dedicated religious scholars of Gielinor. Much of it was written by Armadyl himself, and split into two testaments - the First, written during his time on Abbinah and Gielinor, and the Latter, compiled after the God Wars - written in the form of a journal - as he travelled from world to world, always searching, never resting.

One of the extracts that showed Armadyl’s journey back to his home world of Abbinah is most beloved among the avianse; it is right before their deity returned, reborn, and taking upon the aspect of a phoenix that rose from the ashes…

“I arrived on this world several sunsets ago. This is a desolate place: the ground is grey dust in all directions; it is cold and light is scarce. I taste the air and know my people could never have survived here. It is a fitting place for me to stay, for a time.

I walk as I write. My wings trail in the dust, a zigzag record of my time here, and my thoughts turn to legacy. There is nothing of me on Gielinor: my aviansie are dead, my Staff has been lost. In time, they will forget me. There is something reassuring about that.

A bright light catches my eye, far to the west. I fly to it. It is nothing but a meteorite, smoking in a crater. This world's similarity to the wilderness of Forinthry is inescapable.

There is no land on this world, just wind, water and waves. Nothing stays still. The chaos of it all deafens me. I hunger for peace, stability, growth; so - upon my arrival - I froze water and made an island. A migrating bird still needs a perch.

To pass the time, I flew on the crosswinds and tried to forget my troubles. I remembered that my aviansie would fly about me as I soared, playfully mimicking my every move.

I know now that I cannot - should not - forget… no matter how much I may wish it.

It seems there is no life on this world. I can see the seeds of life, but not life itself. I feel myself reaching for my Staff, to give those seeds a spark of energy, a push to catalyse their efforts…

But it is gone.

I have wasted enough time here.

The sky is a boiling mass of noxious gas, and the ground seems to be melting. But - by the Elder Gods - there's life here!

I headed southwards, until everything grew colder. I saw what looked like dark stones, fused to the ground. I attempted to move one, and to my surprise it moved itself! These were not stones, but small, shelled creatures. Sharp legs shot out in an attempt to repel me.

I have taken to studying them. Weather, temperatures and tectonics conspiring against them, but they hold firm, clustered in their shells. They survive and endure, again and again.

I must continue my solitary pilgrimage.

The air here is toxic; hard, unrelenting gravity pulls me downwards, and even I must struggle to remain aloft. The world is gas, with no ground to stand on. And yet, this world is a paradise for the beings native to its atmosphere: tiny creatures, the biggest no larger than a wasp or beetle.

They circle around me. At first, I thought they wanted to hide in the down of my feathers. But when I turned, they turned. When I stopped, they stopped.

They were mimicking and playing.

I feel my old strength - enough to make the journey back to my home. In the hollows of my bones I know that it is time to return, and to shelter my faithful beneath my wings once more.”

It was Bandos who the winged deity clashed with the most.

Bandos was a very powerful, manipulative and bloodthirsty entity, known for taking pleasure in conflict and slaughter. He demanded worship and unquestioned obedience. His followers' main trait is strength, generally at the cost of intelligence, making them valuable warriors who would listen to him blindly. He did not usually care if most of his armies were wiped out - he fought solely for the sake of battle and would enjoy the bloodshed, provided that he retained enough troops to fight for him. But do not let his bulking size and monosyllabic dialect fool you - his cunning and battle prowess is second to none.

There was no such thing as a physical Bandosian holy book; those of intelligence were accused of being defiers of the War God, thus very few of Bandos’ followers could read or write. However, tales of Bandos, alongside his preachings, philosophies and beliefs, had been passed down verbally for generations, naturally altering throughout time, as all tales do.

One tale, however, managed to keep quite consistent throughout its history: it was the story of Bandos’ reign over Yu'biusk.

The hobgoblins of the Thrasghdak tribe built a statue of Bandos, higher than their tallest building. Bandos loathed the statue, declaring the only craftsmanship he admired was that of fine weaponry. He ordered the statue to be torn down, and said that the craftsman must use their skills and resources to create weapons and armour.

He said if they did this, they would be the greatest tribe of Yu'biusk.

The orks of the Verotark tribe built smaller, more humble statues, all across their city. Seeing this, Bandos pointed to the Thrasghdak, saying how their statue was magnificent, like a second sun… but he said they had torn it down in defiance, had erected secret workshops to craft weapons not for him, but to fight against his righteous rule! He ordered them to gather their tribe for battle, and destroy the Thrasghdak tribe. Men, women, children and the elderly… there was to be no mercy for any of them.

He said if they did this, they would be the greatest tribe of Yu'biusk.

The ogres of the Azkragthog tribe waited until the Verotark returned weak from battle, and obliterated them. They didn’t destroy any weapons they came across - instead, they used them for battle to aid in their conquest. There was no statue, no ballad, no ceremony of worship. This greatly pleased Bandos. He ordered them to build more weapons and use them to conquer the tribes beyond the mountains and beyond the oceans.

He said if they did this, they would be the greatest tribe of Yu'biusk.

To the ourgs of the Goltholglor tribe, Bandos ordered that they stand and fight against the armies of the Azkragthog that were bearing down on their cities. He gave them the same weapons as the Azkragthog - a fighting chance - but instead of defending themselves, the Goltholglor tribe sent diplomats to plead for peace. The wise ones of the Goltholglor tribe said that to go on using the new weapons would be the end to all life in Yu'biusk. Bandos decried them as cowards who wished to corrupt the true followers of Bandos. He decreed that if anyone preached against war, they were to be put to the sword.

He said that the last tribe to survive would be greater tribe in Yu'biusk.

Armadyl’s followers had been seen preaching in a camp north of Falador and, for some reason, it was Bandos who took umbrage at this. Then again, Bandos would take umbrage against the sky for any rain that fell on him. The camp was located on the merchant’s road between Taverley and Falador; Armadyl had very few human followers and no territory on the ground to call him own, so his emissaries had taken to setting themselves up where they could. Now, granted, the camp was a little close to the Goblin Village, the largest settlement of goblins in all of Gielinor and, naturally, Bandosian. Then again, it was also in a large expanse of Saradominist territory, and he didn’t seem to mind. It’s debatable if he even knew, let alone cared.

A terrifying rumble, like the roars of ungodly thunder, shook the area around the encampment, so vicious that it knocked over trees and caused an avalanche on the nearby mountain. From the dark grey skies, Bandos appeared, towering twice as high as the walls of Taverley. He loomed down on the helpless Armadyleans below, a malicious smirk cracking through his dark green features, before he crashed down a giant foot onto them and squashed them into the dirt below, like insects.

Armadyl… did not take too kindly to that. As soon as word reached him, he materialised and - reminiscent to the battle between Zamorak and Saradomin - camps were erected, armies were gathered (with Saradominists aiding the Armadyleans once they heard the news), and the war commenced. This time, divine energy was being gathered to help empower large weapons of mass destruction both sides were constructing.

Despite this, Bandos occasionally took to snatching up a handful of goblins and lobbing them across the battlefield at Armadyl.

Armadyl remained on his perch, his tactics much less crude. At least this time the battle did not take place in the middle of a major human settlement; no evacuations were necessary, taking place in the sizable area north of Falador and east of Taverley. The battle also only lasted six weeks, still with heavy casualties on either side, but like the previous clashing of Saradomin and Zamorak, it ended as suddenly as it began.

The catapult-like weapon Armadyl had been constructing, which he’d dubbed ‘The Divine Focus’, simmered with barely contained energy. The avianse deity looked oh-so satisfied as he shot a cannonball-sized orb of power across the skies, straight towards an enraged Bandos. He ordered his weapon - far weaker in comparison - to be fired in retaliation, but his armies were too slow.

The orb crashed down, smashing through Bandos’ fortifications, scattering his armies… and decapitating the Big High War God. Flying over to the corpse, Armadyl set himself down beside Bandos’ remains, a cold and unfeeling look in his thin eyes. He then took Bandos’ own mace, very heavy in his grasp, and held it aloft, before driving it down and through the deceased god’s skull. His head was crushed and split into fragments, his brain leaking from the remains.

Armadyl did not look happy, but he looked relieved; he’d set out what he’d resolved to do, and that was to remove the threat of Bandos from Gielinor.

With a squawking war-cry to the heavens, Armadyl held the mace aloft and teleported from the battlefield.

From the remains of Bandos’ fortifications, some of the soldiers began erecting shrines to their new deity, Armadyl. After all, it was Bandos who taught them that only the weak died, and only the strongest deserved worship.

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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