#vanescula drakan

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Round 2

[pachirsdoodles]

The Lord of Vampyrium

Spoiler: It's not quite how the quest went. Just a headcanon for fun

[flyingsquirrely]

Sins of the Father

WHAT a quest!! I've already played through the Myreque questline in RS3, but I really enjoyed the OSRS take on this quest. (spoilers for the Myreque/Vampyre questline in both OSRS and RS3 below the readmore)

I think it has my favorite characterization of the Player Character out of all the OSRS quests I've played so far. Normally, PC personality ends up either very reactive (they sort of blandly respond to the situation at hand) or going to uhhh extremes (Lunar Diplomacy pirate ship scene, my beloathed), but this quest found a nice balance where the PC is perhaps a bit too jokey in the face of darkness and danger, but it feels like a purposeful response to stress by lightening the mood, rather than obnoxious as it sometimes falls in other quests. It's more like a part of their personality, rather than the devs just throwing something in because they think it's funny or want to make a reference. Subjectively, I found this character much closer to how I imagine my PC (ik ik, that's not universal, hence subjectively). Also, it fits with the other quest characters, where Safalaan has a similar sense of humor and the PC's lightheartedness helps him deal with all of the unpleasant personal realizations he goes through during the quest.

Speaking of my guy Safalaan, loved his characterization as well, and his growing friendship with the PC. The conversations they have in the lab and before the final boss while looking over the drowned ruins of (presumably) the Everlight: 👌👌. They just felt so satisfying! We get to share our fears and stuff! I felt good feels! Good characterization!

Vanescula was a queen, as always, and Ivan felt more like a Real Boy in this iteration of the questline than in the RS3 version. Loved the team banter and the wary enemy-mine relationship between the Myreque and Vanescula. I thought that the tension between Veliaf, Safalaan, and Vanescula was really well done, and how each of the minor Myreque members have their own unique opinions and reasoning about the plan and Vanescula herself.

Also, I think this is unintentionally comedic, but I love that you can go up to the Vyrewatch in full combat kit + weapons specifically meant for killing vampyres, with which you have already killed a powerful vampyre and say "Send me to the mines!" and they just think you're really weird and do it. Like, the fight with Ranis was not private, there was an entire crowd there. Zero braincells on those guys.

There isn't much player dialogue choice in it (you know, the ones where the dialogue choice doesn't do anything mechanically, but results in some branching dialogue where the NPC's dialogue reacts to the PC's personality), but I did like the one where you can choose whether or not to call Veliaf out on his callousness towards Slepe because there are a bunch of Zamorakians there. I don't play my PC as Zamorakian, but they are Guthixian and they don't hate Zamorakians by default, so it was nice to be able to play into that.

I do wish we'd gotten a little more resolution about Slepe. I know there's more stuff going on there with an underground boss and stuff that I haven't done yet, but I think it could have used a quest of its own or maybe a short/medium follow-up.

(We won't talk about the month of Slayer grinding I had to do before I could kill Vanstrom. He hurts, and I am not an experienced PvMer.)

I think my hope for the finale of this questline (idk if we'll be getting one or two more quests in this series, it could go either way honestly), is that it does a couple of things:

Lord Drakan as the final final boss. tbh I found River of Blood (RS3) to be kind of an awkward finale, because Drakan is built up to be this terrible, extremely powerful enemy, but then you kick his ass in the penultimate quest and fight... mutated Safalaan as the final boss of the questline instead. Weird. I'd also accept Vanescula as the final final boss, as long as she survives it and we get to discuss the truce afterwards. She deserves it.

Ivan coming into his own legacy and playing a key role. In RS3 he doesn't get to do much in the last few quests in the series, which was a bit anticlimactic for him.

Give Safalaan A Break, Please. I guess they can turn him into a funky hybrid again, but please let me bonk him back into human shape and then let him take a nap. (he gives me such Ichigo-from-Bleach vibes, being a human+icyene+vampyre hybrid in River of Blood)

I want the Sunspear. I really like the lore of that weapon in RS3 and also how it implies that Efaritay is/was absolutely massive compared to humans.

[eparch]

Peitha really, really reminds me of Vanescula from RuneScape (3, haven't met her OSRS version yet) of all things and in some ways the Kryptis remind me of the Vampyres in general

Long story short, Vanescula betrays her brothers, kills one personally, helps your character kill the other one who is the lord of all Vampyres, and then takes the position of ruling over them all—though she then betrays you

That said I think Peitha doesn't have the same circumstances that will make her "need" to betray us the way Vanescula felt she did. The Vampyres were in a desperate spot where food was becoming scarce and the lands they were confined in were becoming overpopulated (both of their own doing—from turning too many humans to Vyres and from overdrawing blood from the remaining humans), and Vanescula had decided the next thing after deposing Lord Drakan was to invade the human lands. From what I understand so far, Kryptis aren't this desperate and the invasions are entirely due to Eparch's warmongering and tyranny

Also it turns out that Vampyres hail from another world called Vampyrium, where they were like. Originally basically just predatory hunters. Looooooong story short, by the time they came over to Gielinor (the world of RS), they had been "given" an aristocratic and hierarchical society...which is what Eparch establishing houses and nobility in Kryptis reminds me of, with the added bonus of likely lifting much of the way Kryptis society is now from other worlds.

(Although just to be thorough: Lord Drakan wished to return Vampyres to their pre-aristocratic society while obviously Eparch wishes to enforce it. Vanescula had very strong opinions about this, mainly that she quite liked being royalty and "civilized", tyvm. From what I can tell, Peitha seems to lean into the nobility thing quite a bit)

[pwincess-of-cuteness]

i drew vanescula drakan as stress relief cuz i cant defeat lowerniel, and it's quite annoying xD

vanescula is best vamp ♡

i love her so much

[incorrect-runescape-quotes]

Vanescula: We're in trouble!

World Guardian: Trouble? What kind of trouble?

Vanescula: It's a long story. Better hurry up or you won't get to hear it!

[skyotters]

RuneScape - Vanescula Drakan

[fancyfade]

just finished river of blood

didn’t have fraps open so i dont have many screencaps

but 1 i got was

[image: dialogue box from Vanescula Drakan reading “It appears I am left with little choice in the face of all this gross optimism.” end image]

I like that even tho there was a lot of downer parts of the quest line, and a lot of people died, it still ended on a “maybe things can get better” note.

[dagnadraws]

succ

[phosani]

me and vanescula drakan

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Round 1

[lnicol1990]

Defining Moments - Chapter 11

I’m getting to the end of what I’ve already written for Defining Moments. There’s just one more chapter left before this blog is caught up, so next week’s upload will probably be the last for a while. When I do finish any more chapters, I’ll continue the Tuesday schedule.

But for now, enjoy.

Bennath, Year 169, Fifth Age

Thom – aged 22

It took two attempts to safely lay the vial of holy water on the plinth bearing Safalaan’s statue, and Thom was pleased that he’d caught the vial before it fell to the floor. He didn’t want to ask Aleks or Ayla for another vial, wherever they’d gotten the first one from.

He was still adjusting to his injuries, and no matter how many times he was told that he was making a quick recovery, it never felt quick enough. In a month’s time, the healers in Varrock said they would take the wad of bandages off his head and examine how his wounds were doing. It was a pity there was nothing they could do to fix the real damage.

It had been a miracle to survive, everyone said. To take on Lord Drakan and come out alive was an achievement. Realistically, he should have been mauled to the point of infirmity, unable to do more than advise King Roald and be pushed around in one of those wheelchairs. By all accounts, losing his left eye was a fairly minor price to pay for surviving.

If, of course, you didn’t include the Myreque getting reduced to just three members, himself included in the number.

He looked over to the two empty plinths, for Veliaf and Ivan’s statues, and took a measured breath. With luck, those statues wouldn’t be needed for several years, but they were going to be built. With Vanescula preparing to cross the Salve, as much as Thom didn’t want to admit it, those plinths were probably going to get filled sooner rather than later.

Amidst the shuffling of the nearby ghouls, the sound of measured, deliberate steps tapping on the stone sundial made Thom turn. He was expecting to see Veliaf, appraising his handiwork on Safalaan’s statue, but was surprised to see the young priest.

“Ivan?”

“Well met, Thom,” the young man smiled. His smile fell slightly as he looked upon the statues, but it returned, smaller and sadder than before but genuine all the same. “They look just like them. You’ve got a talent for sculpting.”

“Thanks Ivan,” Thom nodded. He glanced around, a worried frown creasing his one visible eyebrow. “You’re taking an awfully big risk coming out here, you know. You should stay with Drezel in the mausoleum.”

“I was looking for you, actually,” Ivan brightened considerably as he remembered why he had ventured into Morytania. “I was getting some fresh air by the temple steps when I saw movement from the mountain pass. A scouting party from Varrock has arrived! I thought you’d want to know and meet with them.”

“I suppose it’s lucky it only took him a month to put a group together,” Thom muttered to himself. He then smiled to the priest and nodded. “Thanks for letting me know, Ivan. Let’s get you get back to Drezel, and I’ll see who the king has so graciously sent to help.”

After escorting the young man back over the Salve and into mausoleum, Thom made his way up to Paterdomus. He found the preliminary group in the south courtyard, and consisted of King Roald’s advisor, Aeonisig Raispher; a priest clearly serving as his aide; and four members of the Varrock Guard for a party of six in total.

Thom wasn’t impressed.

“Ah, you must be the adventurer that alerted the king to the vampyre threat!” one of the guards yelled as they spotted him, and began approaching him with another in tow. Both guards saluted him as he joined them. “Captain Rovin of the Palace Guard, I believe we met briefly when the zombies invaded Varrock. This is Sergeant MacSeumas of the City division.”

The city guard was a lot older than Thom was expecting him to be. He could see grey streaking through the man’s beard and the lines on his face were clear. But his movements did not betray anything but a man in the back end of his prime and there was a keenness in the man’s eyes, which twinkled slightly as he watched Thom appraise him. The sergeant smirked in amusement.

“Don’t ye be underestimating me, laddie,” the man’s accent was thick and northern to Thom’s ears. “I was dealing with thugs, thieves and bandits before you were out of swaddling, and none of them have gotten the best of me, not in almost thirty years. To be frank, lad, I’m more worried about you and Twitchy over there.”

MacSeumas motioned his head to the priest next to Aeonisig, who was exceptionally fidgety, now that it had been mentioned. Thankfully, the man was not in the usual priest garb, but in armour. Granted, it was emblazoned with Saradomin symbols and all but painted a target on the man, but at least it was armour.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve spent a great many years fighting the demon scourge in the name of our great Lord Saradomin,” the priest retorted hotly, puffing up his chest. He glared at Thom and MacSeumas, daring either of them to belittle his accomplishments. “And the name is Fletcher; Alistair Fletcher.”

“We’re not fighting demons here, Master Fletcher, nor are they undead like the zombies you’ve dealt with, Captain Rovin,” Thom chided both groups. As he looked at them, he felt himself getting angrier.

Four guardsmen, in bronze chainmail, wielding silver-edged iron weapons, which probably weren’t even blessed, and a single priest in demon slaying armour. That’s what was meant to protect Misthalin from an army of half-starved vyres. And they all thought they were at all capable of coming out of this fight alive?

He could see the confidence in their eyes, and that they thought they knew what they were dealing with. It reminded him of the Myreque, how underestimating Lord Drakan had cost them all their lives. Every death flashed in his mind’s eye as each threw caution to the wind, leaving nothing but a bloody mist in the air.

He would rid them of their delusion. He had to.

“Vyres are flesh and blood, just like you and I,” he explained, looking at each man before him. Aeonisig, Captain Rovin and the two guards behind him were looking at him in confusion, but MacSeumas and Fletcher were regarding him with close attention. Thom drew in a breath. “They’re stronger than us, tougher than us, and to them: we’re nothing but food. They’re not here to fight us, they’re hunting! And, they’re invulnerable to all but a half dozen weapons!”

He saw the guard’s faces drop in horror, staring at the weapons they realised were useless to them. The two grunts were starting to look pale, and even Rovin was far less confident than he had been a minute ago. Aeonisig looked like he was about to faint. There were only two in the group that had taken the information in stride, MacSeumas and Fletcher, who were looking at their arms and armour with quiet consideration.

Those two would survive, Thom realised with relief, even if no one else did.

“Is holy water effective against them?” Fletcher asked quietly, raising up a bottle of the stuff.

“I don’t know, never tried it,” Thom answered honestly. He frowned slightly as a thought came to mind before cocking his head to a side. “It works against bloodvelds, though, and they’ll have those.”

“I can work with that,” the priest smiled, nodding his head to Thom. “For as long as Saradomin smiles upon me, I shall rid this world of all Zammorakian filth.”

“And if our weapons and armour aren’t good enough, lad, we’ll need something else,” MacSeumas noted, sheathing his two handed broadsword. He faced Thom squarely, looking straight into the adventurer’s good eye. “What works against these bastards?”

“Vampyres!” Aeonisig yelled, pointing past the group and towards Morytania.

It was a small scouting party, only three low ranking members of the vyrewatch, flying past the River Salve and over the fence. With Thom, five fighters and Aeonisig wailing in a corner, the fight should have been an easy one, but he was the only one truly equipped for it.

Rushing into fray, Thom sliced at the first vrye with a sickle, cutting from hip to collarbone. A slash from the one in his right hand tore out the creature’s throat and it fell limply to the floor. A growl from his left made him spin to the sound, his stomach dropping at the too-close noise. He raised his arm in vain hope of protecting himself, only to find the vyre straining against a silver-edged broadsword. Wasting no time, he slashed at his opponent, catching it in the face and sending it reeling back, howling in pain. An uppercut from his left sickle put it out of its misery.

He turned to the final vyre and saw MacSeumas and Fletcher teaming up against it, reading each other’s moves instinctively as if they had done so for years. After a well-aimed bottle of holy water was smashed into the vyre’s face, the aged guard brought his broadsword down on the creature’s head. Vyres may be the ultimate hunters, but even they weren’t immune to a man determined to cleave their head open.

When MacSeumas was done bludgeoning the vyre to death, he turned to Thom. Sheathing his blade, he walked slowly up to the adventurer. He looked at the sickle in Thom’s left hand and then back up at his face.

“Ye almost skewered me with that, laddie,” he said calmly. “Yer flailing on ye left, and not seeing danger ‘til it’s on ye. Ye should use ye right hand more, swap out your left sickle for a shield.”

“I’m left handed,” Thom stated.

The guard paused at the admission, mouth open slightly in surprise. His eyes darted from side to side, trying to deal with the information quickly and coming to a solution.

“Ah,” he said finally, crossing his arms and leaning on his back foot. “Well, if ye were anyone else, I’d say hang it all up and retire, but I can’t see ye doing that. So, I think I’ll keep an eye on yer left for ye, try not to skewer me.”

“I’ll come along too!” Fletcher announced, standing beside MacSeumas.

“I don’t need both of you to babysit me,” Thom snapped.

“With Saradomin as my witness, I will not stand idly by while evil looms above us,” Fletcher declared in a boisterous, passionate tone. He then quietened and glanced cautiously towards the king’s advisor before leaning in towards Thom. “Don’t leave me here with Aeonisig. I will do no good latched to that idiot’s side. Please.”

Thom stared at the priest in surprise. He’d always thought little of Aeonisig Raispher, but had politely kept his opinion to himself. Knowing that this priest shared a similar opinion was unexpected, and more than a little funny. It made him crack a smile for the first time since Saradomin knew how long.

“Alright,” Thom nodded, caving to the priest’s request. “I guess you might be able to help Ivan and Drezel strengthen the wards around the Salve.”

“Saradomin bless you,” the priest recited gratefully, making the mark of the star before Thom.

As Thom walked over to said advisor, who was in the process of a complete meltdown, he couldn’t help but feel safer with those two at his back.

[goodbye-susan]

Unproductive day. But I started collating a sort of ‘top monologues’ list for RuneScape quests.

Stuff I picked so far is below the cut.

Departure - Ga’al-Xox, The Brink of Extinction.

“Before I... go... I want to thank you, human. You nurtured me where others thought me worthless. You fought for my kind, and I have learned much from you. The TzHaar have much to learn from humanity... of compassion, of respect. There are other ways to vanquish an enemy than by blade, mace, or staff.

Whatever awaits us in the next life, beyond the confines of stone or flesh, I hope that we shall meet again. Goodbye, my friend.”

The king’s tax collector - Adventurer, The Fremennik Isles.

“Right! That's it! I've had enough! No more lying! No more biting my tongue!

Do I take you for a fool? Yes I do! You are so paranoid about Neitiznot that you are running this island into the ground! Neitiznot is not going to attack Jatizso. I'll say it again to try and force it into your thick skull! Neitiznot is not going to attack Jatizso. They don't care about Jatizso. They care about the trolls and Troll King who are the real threats to the islands.

You are so obsessed with your cousin, however, that you stick your head in the sand whenever it comes to the trolls. But I'm not sure it matters, since I think there is a good chance that you will destroy this village long before the trolls get here! You do not have to dress in a jester's costume to act the fool, your royal crown is more than enough!”

The Laughing Miner Pub /  Battle of Barendir story - Veldaban, Forgiveness of a Chaos Dwarf.

“I don't think anyone who was at that battle came back quite the same.

It was a few years ago. The trolls had been attacking our miners, so the Supreme Commander sent a Black Guard regiment to deal with them. I was just a lieutenant at the time. Our commanding officer was Colonel Grimsson. He was a real slave-driver. The new recruits think Colonel Grenda is bad, but Grimsson was ten times worse. We had to attack a position where the trolls were entrenched. The trolls rained rocks down on us from behind cover, and attacked from side-tunnels and pits.

We lost hundreds of men. There were bodies everywhere, and the smell of blood was... I wish I could forget it. Colonel Grimsson led the charge. He burst through the barricades that the trolls had set up, and I saw him in combat with the troll general. WE took the cavern, but Grimsson kept hacking at the trolls that fled. He was screaming like a demon and his whole face was covered in blood from a wound to his forehead. Then the trolls were gone, but Grimsson didn't stop fighting. He attacked anyone who came near him. He wounded several soldiers. Maybe he wound to his head affected his brain. Maybe the horrors of the battle just pushed him over the edge. I don't know. I made the call. I ordered my squad to subdue him.

When we got back from Keldagrim there was a court-martial and he was discharged from the Black Guard. A while later he disappeared. No one else went berserk like Grimsson, but I don't think anyone who was at Barendir has been the same since.

Never mind all that though. It's all over. Thinking about it will do no good.”

The World Guardian is right - Adventurer, Sliske’s Endgame.

“Of course I am! Who do you think has been at the centre of all of this mess?

Not you. Neither of you have seen friends killed by Sliske. Neither of you have seen allies warped into monsters.

Neither of you had to face a god built out of the screaming remnants of human souls. Neither of you have had to travel back in time to visit an old friend, only to be brought back staring at his corpse.

For all that you've been through, know that it's a drop in the ocean compared to what Sliske has done to me. So now, for once. Just for once. Shut up and stop giving Sliske what he wants.”

But we can fight - Zanik, The Chosen Commander.

"We can fight!

I've had that... thing inside my head. It's not merciful. It doesn't see us as people. It only wants to dominate, to control.

Our ancestors defied it. They escaped its clutches, they broke all of its hateful commandments, they built a new city – a new world – where we could be free. We haven't gotten rid of conflict or suffering entirely – maybe we could have, given more time and effort – though we have done pretty well. Our whole history since then, every one of us who has lived and loved and built and dreamed, has been one glorious act of defiance.

If we surrender, that rebellion will be undone. Bandos won't just make us suffer, he won't just reduce us to barbarism – he'll turn us into an instrument of evil. But if we fight it now, then even if we die, that will be the crowning of our defiance.

I thought I couldn't fight, but [Player] told me that... that [he/she] believed in me. That's what we need now; to believe in one another. You say that we can't win, that we can't fight.

Well, perhaps you're half right; perhaps we can't win. But we can fight.”

Shield for Gielinor - Nomad, Nomad’s Elegy.

"I wondered how long it would take for you to show up here, in the Underworld. Alive of course, just to be special.

Don't worry, you're not going mad. I am speaking only to  you, no one else can hear me. How, you ask? It's quite simple really, I am speaking to your soul. The obelisk calls to it, but you are quite safe for now. Your pet god has seen to that.

But here we are again. Must we play the role of 'dastardly villain' and 'selfless hero' once more? Is that the lie you tell yourself? That you're the hero? That you've changed the world for the better? Because it is a lie. Because of you Guthix died. Do you remember? You let them all in to his resting place. It was your hubris that allowed Sliske to slay him. You know that don't you?

It is because of you that the gods have returned. To threaten us all. They flooded in to our world in droves. Each of them giving orders, imposing their idea of order. I saw what my master had become and I destroyed him. I saved the world from his madness. But you...you have so many masters. Do you even realise you're a servant?

Yes I know. You want to deny me, you feel you are in charge. It is a comforting lie I'm sure. But you are here on the word of gods, both alive and dead. You have been told that I am dangerous. That my plan is madness and it is, it's also our only hope. My fortress stands in opposition to the gods. To all the gods. I will be the shield for Gielinor, protecting the world from their arrogant machinations. No matter what the cost, I will pay it. Because to not do so would be far far worse.

So build your siege weapons and storm my gates. I wish that when you reach my gates it is as a friend, as someone who knows my way is the only way. But I am no fool, Player. I know that when we meet again you will give me no choice. When we meet again, it will be the day you die. I am sorry, but there really is no other way. So farewell Player, I look forward to devouring your soul. I imagine it will be exquisite.

The curse of the dragonkin - Phalaks, Hero’s Welcome.

“What do you know of our curse? What do you know of being cursed?

Imagine that every moment of every day you existed in torment, and this could only be relieved by killing a specific person. And, to make things worse, this person was so powerful that the only way you could kill them would involve enduring more torment to get to their level.

How many centuries, centuries I ask you, would you last before you too treated the death of a subjectively 'nice' False User as a cause for celebration?”

Alone - Safalaan, River of Blood.

“I understand what you're going through. Better than I did before. Better than I did when we talked in the castle.

When I was human - when I thought I was human - I believed that vampyres were beasts led by their bellies. And it's true, the hunger is terrifying. All-encompassing. But that isn't what drives you, is it?

The euphoria I felt wasn't the blood in my throat. I saw something very different: a mountain of lives - mortals - and me at the top of it. Nobody above me, everyone else below. The thrill came from being at that summit. Of knowing that all life fed me.

It became an intense joy. I felt safe, like I was unbeatable. I felt like I was the culmination of everything. But then I heard the cries of those below me. I saw the fear in their eyes when they looked up. They were terrified of me.

You know that intense joy and loneliness, don't you? That's why you were set on an alliance with Misthalin. But it won't work, Vanescula. You may sign treaties and alliances, but nothing will have changed. You will still be alone on that mountain, and they will look at you with as much fear as before.

Stop this. Step away from it all. Look to your own people, and stop asserting yourself on the world.”

Lord Jovkai - Vanescula, River of Blood.

“Years ago - thousands of years ago - my family wasn't in the position we are now. We had lost battles against the other houses. We were weak. One loss was against Lord Jovkai and his sycophants. A narrow loss, but a loss nonetheless.

We invited him and his family to our camp to discuss reparations. We prepared a meal. We prepared riches. Such was the custom. But when he arrived, Lord Jovkai had brought his own banquet. He sat at the head of our table, and beckoned us to sit. Meals were placed in front of us. I looked around at my brothers. We ate without joy. I could eat nothing.

Lord Jovkai watched us. He asked if we were enjoying the meal. My brothers nodded in agreement, but I remained silent. Then he filled his cup with wine again and stood up. He told us that this was it: this was to be our reparations. We would be strangers in our own home, dining from his scraps. He walked over to me, placing the cup in front of me and forced me to drink it. I had to; his blade was at my back.

Once the meal was finished, Lord Jovkai made me wash the plates, like some disobedient child. Vanescula Drakan, tending to tables. So I washed Lord Jovkai's cup in slow poison. Every time he took a sip from that cup, he grew more ill. And he loved to drink. Though he was tended to, he died less than a year later.

We did not lose another battle after that meal. There was a fire in all of us. We would never eat scraps again.

You made me lose this battle today. So if you ever make me feel like a stranger in my own home, I will be the slow poison in your cup.

Enjoy this victory. This battle was yours. You did well. Relish it. And when the dust falls on all of this, you should join me at Castle Drakan so we can share a meal. It will be my treat.”

United - Adventurer, The World Wakes.

“That's enough! All of you!

We made it this far, didn't we? We have the head start on our enemy; all we need to do is defend this area and the battle is ours.

If we just give up now, Guthix will be killed and the edicts will fail. The gods will return and the world will be in chaos once more. Another God War will erupt, with no one to stop it. Is that what you want?

Yes, our enemies are powerful - but so are we! We each have our own strengths, whether they be physical prowess or great intelligence. What's more, we are united while the enemy bicker among themselves. Together, we will taste victory!”

Final request - Guthix, The World Wakes.

“...I should have seen it coming. I introduced them to the world, I had a power greater than they had ever seen. The mortal races began to worship me. They built shrines to me, made sacrifices. They waited on my every word. It pained me deeply to see myself becoming what I had always loathed. They should not have been living beneath me, serving me. I wanted them to be free, balanced, to make their own decisions. Knowing my presence was thwarting my efforts, I withdrew into the earth, to sleep. I hoped I would be forgotten over the ages. But it was not long before the other gods arrived.

When I ended the war of the gods, I did it with no pleasure. I knew I had already failed. Looking over Gielinor, it was like looking at my homeland: the land ravaged; the mortals worshipping a multitude of gods, including myself. The races brought in by the now-banished gods remained, and disrupted the balance at every turn. Battles raged on, in the names of the absent gods. I could banish the gods themselves, but I could not remove the memories of them; the blind faith displayed by their followers. Besides, my own interference would only disrupt the balance more. I have disproportional power; more than any single being should have.

I could have prevented this, Player. I have been awake since you triggered the alarm. I knew what would happen.

Player, I have been the most powerful being on Gielinor since my arrival. Of course I could have stopped Sliske if I had desired to. But I embrace my death. It must occur, if the world is to be balanced. If the gods return, another war is inevitable.

Gielinor must be returned to peace before war destroys it... before it becomes like my own home. A dead, desolate wasteland... Gielinor must be protected, Player. But not by me. By a mortal. Someone with the power to defend against the gods, but not the power to be one.”

[wonderwafles]

Vanescula E, Sliske Y, Cyrisus H

Vanescula - Sharing a drink

There is anger in Efaritay’s eyes.

Not that Vanescula could blame her. What her family had doneto Efaritay’s, what Vanescula personally had done to her son – it was unforgiveable.Vanescula accepted this not with emotion, nor with sympathy, but with astraightforward logic. Efaritay would not forgive her; therefore, she would nottry to make her.

Still, if the truce was to work, Efaritay must tolerate theVyre’s presence, and Vanescula must make some… concessions.

So it was they sat, sharing a drink in the finest room ofCastle Drakan, and Vanescula remembers.

She remembers the first day on Gielinor, when Zaros solemnlywatched as she and her brothers devoured a human village. It was delicious,like nothing she’d ever tasted before.

Finally, the last human fell to her and Lowerniel. Most theyhad turned into Vyres, but this time, without discussion, they drank himtogether. It was both milestone and celebration, a vow that this new worldwould one day be theirs.

Even then, though, she had whispered to herself, in a voicethat even she couldn’t hear just yet, that this world wouldn’t be theirs. Itwould be hers.

Vanescula meets Efaritay’s eyes, and they drink. She tastesthe blood on her lips, and thinks that this is not an end, but a setback. Andoh, did she have time to wait it out.

Sliske - Tears

The dreams are the worst.

Most of the time, Cildwyr can handle it. It manifests itselfas a rage-filled urge he wouldn’t have had before, the ghost of an ambitionhe’d never wanted, but at night…

It’s hard to tell where he ends and Sliske begins.

This time, it’s Freneskae. A desolate landscape, pocked bylava and scars, the eyes of a woman, wide in fear, a scream of fear, gets mixedin with six deaths and the laughter of a Mahjarrat gets mixed up with the Stoneof Jas gets mixed up with a green dragon with red eyes, gets mixed up with awoman on the altar, gasping and choking or maybe that’s him –

This time, he wakes up and there are tears on his face. Hewipes his face with his hand and chokes back a sob.

Weak, pathetic,desperate thing hisses something inside of him, you have no right to those tears –

Those tears are mine,something else says back.

You’re crying mytears, they both say. Give them back!–

I suppose I’ll justhave to cry for the both of us now, Cildwyr thinks, and lets them fall fromhis eyes and run from his hands to fall on the bed, warm and unrelenting, and some of them, he is sure, are not his.

Cyrisus - Someone’s greatest fear

It’s tough, getting rid of a fear.

Look, I’ll be the first to admit it. I, ah, should know bynow. I was a bit of a coward, in the old days.

No, really! I know!

But ultimately, everyone has a fear. Even a reformed cowardlike me.

Try to guess.

No, it’s not death. That’s an easy one, so I’ll clear it upright now. I haven’t thought about death in, actually, quite some time.

Maybe I’m just biding my time, and the full existentialweight I’ve shouldered will come crashing down upon me and I’ll be paralyzed infear, never to awaken again!

Best not to think of it then, I suppose.

As for combat… I’ve gotten over that. Believe me or don’t.

Do you want to know my worst fear?

Chickens.

You laugh, but every day for thirty years I killed those things.Staring into their beady little eyes is like staring into the maw of hell. I’llfight the King Black Dragon before I’ll fight those things again.

So please, don’t feel too badly if this goes… the way Ithink it might.

I mean. Look, I don’t know for sure. Anything can happen,eh?

But Lucien….

I don’t know.

But hey.

If you’re ever tempted to think to yourself about thecruelty of the universe, if you ever hover over my grave and think to yourselfabout Cyrisus, the great hero whose life was cut off too soon, keep this inmind.

It wasn’t chickens that did me in in the end. This I swear.

This probably isn’t very inspiring.

Oh well.

Featuring my theories about Sliskefrag and the debut of my World Guardian, Cildwyr! I feel kind of bad about tormenting the poor man the first time I write about him, but such is life!

Thanks for these prompts; they were really fun!

(And I’m still accepting submissions for this post!)

[incorrect-runescape-quotes]

Safalaan: Look, Veliaf, it's Vanescula.

Veliaf: BOO!

Vanescula: Oh, "Boo" yourself!

[teabagtheweak666]

livilla is vanescula drakan