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jahaanofmenaphos · 5 years

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Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

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 04: THE BATTLE OF LUMBRIDGE

QUEST SUMMARY:

Now that the gods can return to Gielinor, Saradomin and Zamorak waste little time and return to war once more. This time, Lumbridge is their battlefield. While the battle wages on, Jahaan tries to find out more about the mysterious Mahjarrat who has taken a particular interest in him...

CHAPTER 1: THE SHADOW

Despite its fairly large population and wide coverage of land, Lumbridge retained many of the characteristics of a quaint little village. Often regarded by most as the ‘warm heart of Gielinor’, Lumbridge’s buildings were old-fashioned, bright white paint covering the study wooden shell; black cladding was attached for decoration, and the roofs were thatched straw, woven together delicately and with expert craftsmanship. The River Lum weaved its way through the town, dividing it in two. Farmland occupied a lot of the land close to the river, with lucious crop fields and pastures for livestock to roam inside, cared for by the many farmers of the town. One never felt too far from company in the embrace of the Lumbridge community, from the sweet milkmaid Gillie Groats, to Father Aereck, a Saradominist priest inside a small church that stood for over two hundred years, longer than Lumbridge Castle, all the way to the duke himself, Duke Horacio. The duke was a rotund, bubbly gentlemen that took the pride of Lumbridge to heart, using it as a measure of the success of his reign.

Throughout its history, Lumbridge had many problems with goblin raids from western tribes. Fortunately, an unspoken ceasefire was in operation between the humans and their goblin counterparts, though the trice was uneasy, evident by the number of guardsman present on the outskirts of the town. Thanks to the diplomacy of Duke Horacio, peace had been kept thus far.

However, on this day, the tranquil little town of Lumbridge was to be shattered, beyond the realms of a meager goblin raid, and beyond the repair of Horacio’s diplomacy.

This was the day Zamorak returned to Gielinor.

A few days earlier...

After the events that had transpired in Guthix’s cave, Jahaan returned to the Legends’ Guild, hoping those with a little more experience than him might have some wise words, advice, rationalisation - he’d even settle for a limerick. Anything to make sense of what had transpired and, more importantly, where to go next.

Instead, they were a little less calm and collected than what he’d hoped. Many of them simply didn’t believe Jahaan at face value, which was understandable. It’s not every day you hear one of the most powerful gods in Gielinor’s history has been murdered. After a trip to Guthix’s final resting place and a conference with the Guardians of Guthix that had remained there to build a shrine, reality sunk in. Those that did believe Jahaan, or were then shown proof, didn’t take the news all that well.

The Guthixians among them went into mourning, and even those that didn’t worship the deceased deity felt the heavy toll of losing him, especially since one particularly troubling fact hung over them…

...now, the other gods could return to Gielinor.

When Jahaan couldn’t take any more of their worrisome deliberating, he asked if he could take to one of the visitor bunks and try to shift the weight of the day from his shoulders.

A good night’s sleep is what I really need, he kept telling himself, subtly praying that everything would sort itself out by the morning. Of course, nothing’s as easy as that. Even sleep seemed to be a trial, for every time he closed his eyes, he could see Naragun, the innocent Naragi scattered across the wastelands of their home, and Guthix taking his final breaths on that stone tablet.

“Remember your purpose, Jahaan... and please… forget me.”

Those last words echoed a haunting mantra inside his mind, ceasing to allow him a moment’s peace.

That smile…

In the darkness of his mind, he also saw that smile of Sliske’s, smug and full of malice.

Turning on his side, Jahaan let out a heavy sigh and resigned himself to the fact he wouldn’t get much sleep that night.

Turns out he didn’t get much sleep that night, nor the two nights that followed. The days, also, were very restless. The Guild was chaotic, and Jahaan had taken to spending much of his time wandering aimlessly in the forest between Seer’s Village and the Guild. This, however, was not as relaxing as it sounded.

Every single person Jahaan locked eyes with, he was suspicious of. They could be giving him a pleasant smile or a tip of their hat in greeting, and Jahaan would turn a cold shoulder. When he made it up to the pub in the Village, thinking it’d help clear his mind to knock back a few, the crowded atmosphere only made things ten times worse. Their laughing, chattering… everything set Jahaan on edge, and even the whiskey couldn’t sooth his state of mind. People would sit next to him, and he shot daggers in their direction, unprovoked and unnecessary. His shoulders remained hunched and tense, his hand clasped tightly around the whiskey glass, ready to use it as a weapon at a moment’s notice.

“We've met before, but I doubt he remembers me… I've been watching you for quite some time now… I have the feeling our paths are going to cross again very, very soon…”

The words echoed around Jahaan’s mind like a death rattle.

Orlando had been Sliske in disguise, and Jahaan’s inability to see through such a facade led to Guthix’s death.

It was hard not to feel responsible; he’d been played for a fool.

While he’d first brushed off the ominous words of Sliske at the Ritual Site, he now examined them in a much more serious light, with all the consequences that had followed in the recent days.

Who else had Sliske been?

It was the overarching question of the day. He’d obviously encountered the Mahjarrat before in one of his many disguises, shapeshifting prowess being a natural talent for his kind. Had he been a merchant trying to sell him wares? A soldier in battle? A stranger across from him at the bar?

For all the acquaintances he’d made in his years, Jahaan found himself pouring through each and everyone one of them to see if he could find a hint of Sliske within, all the while pouring more and more whiskey into his system.

In fact, he’d drank so much whiskey that he ended up falling asleep at the bar counter, only to be shaken awoke by a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Jahaan?” the voice was gentle too, a hushed whisper. “Jahaan, it’s time to leave. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Stirring slightly, Jahaan’s neck creaked like an ancient door as he turned to the disruption. The sudden change from darkness to the light of the bar caused an onslaught of double vision, but through blurry eyes, he just about made out the pastel-coloured shape of Ozan leaning over him.

Smiling, Jahaan drawled, “Heyy Ozan… I thought you and Ariane were in East Ardougne. W-Where’s Coal...?”

“We got back this afternoon,” Ozan replied, perching himself on the stool next to Jahaan’s. “Ariane’s babysitting. She loves the little fella. I heard you were down this way, thought I’d join you for a round before the place closes. I think you might have drank all their booze, though.”

Jahaan rubbed his aching temples. “Did they tell you about Guthix?”

“Briefly,” Ozan confirmed, solemnly. “You’ve got a lot to explain once your hangover passes. Come on, let’s get you to sleep.”

“Yes, sleep...” Jahaan mumbled, the world swaying as he slowly rose from the stool. He thanked fate that Ozan had come to find him, since he doubted he’d be able to stagger back to the Guild on his own.

Very convenient, Jahaan thought to himself. Then, like a matchstick to oil, the thought caught fire, and spread fast. Too convenient… oh gods...

Jahaan jerked away from Ozan’s hand. How did I not realise before? Ozan never went to the cave, never saw ‘Orlando Smith’... he could have easily become him...

Looking puzzled, Ozan ventured, “Jahaan? You alright, man?”

The glare Jahaan shot back could have burned through flesh; Ozan flinched, edging backwards ever so slightly. “W-What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Jahaan’s teeth were rattling as he tried to keep composed. It was harder said than done since the effects of the whiskey had far from subsided.

Ozan looked around him, warily. “Uh, yes? It’s me?”

“You might as well drop the disguise. I know it’s you.”

Now, Ozan was utterly baffled, and slightly scared. “Uhh, Jahaan? Gonna need a little more than that. Who do you think I am right now?”

“Sliske,” Jahaan spat the name like it was poison.

Ozan’s brow furrowed; this did not abate his confusion. “The dude from the Ritual Site?”

Suddenly, in the mere blink of an eye, Jahaan shot forward and slammed Ozan into the bar wall behind him, clattering into it with a pained thud. Ozan opened his mouth to protest, but find the words fall lifelessly from his lips with the cold metal of a dagger pressed against his neck.

“You’re not fooling me again, snake,” Jahaan coldly vowed, his red eyes unblinking.

Most of the few remaining patreons swiftly made for the door, though others watched morbidly, their breath bated, eyes full of blood. The bloodlust was shared to Jahaan, who dug the edge of the runite blade slightly deeper into Ozan’s unprotected neck, drawing a thin line of blood as he did so.

Biting back bile that clogged up his throat, Ozan tried to calm his own breathing as he stammered, “Y-You’ve known me since… since we were little tykes! Y-You know I’m not S-Sliske!”

“I only know someone,” Jahaan countered through gritted teeth, “Sliske said he’d been following me for years, disguising himself as others around me, and what better way to do that than to assimilate himself as my ‘best friend’?”

Cursing internally, the fear in Ozan’s eyes grew as he knew Jahaan had a very good point. Now, it seemed that just begging and pleading his innocence wasn’t going to be enough. He had to think, and fast.

Then suddenly - miraculously, more like - it came to him.

“T-The Mahjarrat, you said they could sense each other, right?” Ozan babbled, pressing himself so far into the wall behind him he felt he’d become one with it at any moment. Yet this time, there was light in his eyes, a hope dancing inside the pupils. “Azzanadra! You and me got him out of that pyramid. If I was Sliske, he would have known!”

It was Jahaan’s eyes that betrayed him first, the blink of realisation that made him feel sick to the stomach, more so than the whiskey ever could. Oh gods...

Quickly, Jahaan peeled the dagger off Ozan and stumbled backwards. “Oh gods, you’re right…” he looked heavily up at his friend, age in his features. “Ozan, I…”

Prising himself off the wall, Ozan rubbed away the crimson dribbling down his neck. It had unfortunately already stained his clothing. “You’ve… you’ve had a lot to drink, and a long few days. Let’s… let’s just get back to the Guild.”

Ozan limped out the bar, and Jahaan skulked after him.

From across the room, a blonde man watched them go. He sipped the last remnants of his drink, and smiled.

“Now just tense the string, hold it tight - steady, steady! You’re shaking! You’re gonna kill the cows in the next field at this rate.”

Jahaan slept for most of the next day, waking up only to empty the contents of his stomach and sip delicately at a glass of water. Luckily, once Jahaan had explained himself and apologised profusely for the whole dagger incident, Ozan was inclined to forgive him. He knew his friend well, almost too well, and had learned that alcohol-fueled tempers were rarely personal. This time, with everything that had gone on with Guthix’s death and the poisonous seeds this ‘Sliske’ fellow had planted, it wasn’t much of a surprise that Jahaan hit breaking point like that.

So, to help his friend decompress after the events in the cave, Ozan offered to take Jahaan to the Ranging Guild a little up the pathway to practice his archery.

“Ego’s the only reason I came out of that fight with Zemouregal unscathed,” Jahaan had gravely explained, “Next time, he might wisen up and use magic, so I need to get better at a long-range combat style, and fast.”

Being renowned as one of the best archer’s in all of Gielinor, Jahaan thought he couldn’t be in better hands than Ozan’s when it came to this. It came so naturally to Ozan - his bow was like a third arm. Translating that to Jahaan was… difficult.

Granted, Jahaan wasn’t bad, by no means. Almost all of his arrows had hit the target, and a couple even got dead centre.

“OZAN!” the sharp, alarming cry startled Jahaan, causing his arrow to embed in the fence post to the side of the target, a good two feet from the mark.

Snapping around, the two men saw a young lad huffing and gasping for air, bright red in the face. “Urgent. Guild. Come now!” was all he managed to choke out before his throat gave up.

Exchanging worried glances, Ozan and Jahaan picked up their supplies before rushing back to the Guild.

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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#runescape #ozan #sliske #guthix #zamorak #saradomin

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truecrimeguru · 6 years

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Robert Andrew Berdella deceased Kansas City, Missouri serial killer dubbed "The Kansas City Butcher" and "The Collector". Berdella was the owner of Bob's Bazaar Bizarre in the Westport Flea Market, kidnapped, raped, tortured at murdered at least six men between 1984 and 1987. Cancelled check dated December 3, 1985 from his Dragon Naragi / Robert Berdella account which includes his home address. He has written 'Bob's Bazaar' above his name and address on the check. Signed, Robert Berdella. These Bob Berdella items were obtained from the estate of the late, Del Dunmire. https://www.instagram.com/p/BtzPOB2F2hYlNjdmnUAwm-KUAXZKEmfKt9UCXA0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=4bkgfbky4nt

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loveproblemsolutionloveastrology · 3 years

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Pati Ki Narazgi Door Karne Ke Upay

Aaj ke samyaa me pati-patni choti-choti baaton ko lekar ek dusre se naraj ho jaate hai. isi karan aaj ke riste bhut kam samyaa ke liye tik paate hai. Agar aape pati bhi aapse naraz chal rahe hai to hum aapko batane jaa rahe hai esa chamatkaari totka jisko karke aa apne pati ki naragi ko aasani se door kar sakte hai. नमस्कार बहनों स्वागत है आपका हमारी वेबसाइट में जिसमे आपको मिलेगे ऐसे उपाय और…

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#Pati Ki Narazgi Door Karne Ke Upay

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secondsunrisesthlm · 7 years

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Naragi

#noragi #indigo #naturalindigo #boro #mending #workwear #kasuri #ikat #katazome

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raymondshields · 7 years

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What is the technology level of the "duct-tape realms" in Ilya Serina? (steampunk, high fantasy/LOTR-esque, more advanced than earth, etc?)

This is gonna be a long answer, mainly because in order to answer this, I have to explain how the Serin works. For the record, this is based off of how it works in Fall of Ilya Serina- I don’t know what’ll happen in Starlight so let’s work off the timeline I know.

The Serin is a world of pure creation. (Long ago, it was based off of Minecraft. Five or six or maybe even eight years ago. It also has a nod to CS Lewis’ Wood Between the Worlds- he should’ve done more with that and he didn’t so I’m taking the idea and fucking running with it.)

Nothing stays in the same place. You see mountains on the horizon, by the time you get there, it’s a fucking forest. Fuck you, fuck your “cartography”. Shit moves around and it’s the portals to the other realms that don’t. There are specific locations, of course, they just move the fuck around.

It’s like- you make a puzzle with a map image on it. But the puzzle pieces are squares. They can fit anywhere, in any combination. There are little lights, though, on the board that will glow through the puzzle no matter what piece is on top of it. There are locations on the pieces- civilization, certain mountain ranges, forests, lowlands- but the pieces themselves just fuckin move around.

In Fall, it is canon that locations wander in large, wobbly, looping paths in the daytime and move towards the centre of the Serin at night. The Serin itself is kind of shaped like a donut- the sun sets and rises in the center, and the moon circles the outskirts. For these reasons, eclipses are quite common.

It is also canon in Fall that the Serin is largely conscious, if not sentient. It is aware of its inhabitants and how they are different from world-travellers who are passing through. If there is something in the Serin that it doesn’t like, you will know. Because it will take the problem and put it in your way. As many times as it takes for you to fix it. (That actually happened in Fall, too- Lusmos, Jules, Kinefira, Ophi, and Tarathiel were getting to Ilya Katayona and it put a mountain in their way three times before they went and fixed the problem, which was Lillith was stealing all the dragons meant to protect that area of the Serin.)

The Serin is however, lazy as fuck. It will sometimes mess with you and shove a forest in your way every now and then. But it won’t shove a whole lot of objects, like a city, in your way more than once. It doesn’t like moving more than one thing at a time to fuck with just one person or group. If you see the same thing twice and you’ve already passed it once, it’s because the Serin wants you to check it out.

Hence, maps are virtually useless. But then, Pale, why the fuck does anyone live there, and how? Well, they make do. In the many languages of the many species found in the Serin, in Jules’ words, you are less likely to come across a word that means ‘tower’ than you are to find one that means roughly ‘tall thin structure’.

Because the Serin, on top of moving shit around and fucking with people and being awful to deal with, looks differently to different people. What one person sees as a crack-like ravine full of trees just in front of them will appear as a river to someone else. What one person views as using large crystal spires to walk across is what another might see as walkways between old buildings made out of steel and large wires.

Jules explained this neatly to Tarathiel like this: It’s like 3D modeling. The models themselves don’t change, but the painted textures sure do.

So maps and most directions of any sort are nigh impossible to make. In Fall, Jules found the formula the Serin uses to move things and used that, plus a general location network and a few other things and actually made a smartphone app that can work as a navigational tool for the Serin. Tarathiel uses this app to get herself to Ilya Taranisi to go rescue Lusmos in Fall, which befits the following cut from the novel:

I pulled out my phone and opened up Jules’ map app, to see what it wanted me to do. Firstly it started searching for a signal. The tip below the searching icon said “Tip: Get somewhere high. It’s easier to catch a signal.” Well, I was up high, so there wasn’t much of an issue there. After about thirty seconds of a cheerful “Searching for signal...”, it displayed a quick “Signal found!” followed by a “Connecting to signal...” A few seconds after that, it told me that it had found a signal, and then the popup went away, followed by a very Google-Maps like display. I noticed a search icon, and just to see if I could, searched for Ilya Taranisi. Jules’ app would probably save my life, so going after his god first seemed like a good idea. The only search result was for Ilya Taranisi, with two options: About and Get Directions. Hell, let’s get directions to Ilya Taranisi.

(Tarathiel is somewhat tech savvy, being from Ilya Tirana and having some adventures in Ilya Karina, homeworld to Maria Leuite and the solarpunk-style theme of pure science.)

And that’s how the Serin works. That all being known now, what sort of tech do the different civilizations in the Serin have?

There is no good way to answer this- different civilizations will have different resources and abilities. I’d like to say nobody in the Serin has anything like steampower or higher, since if they did they’d know better than to stay there in the duct tape realm that quite literally makes a game out of trying to kill you.

Most of the Serin’s civilizations have few trade routes if any at all, so they’re largely isolated from each other. Nomadic species are very likely to get wiped out with little trace of having ever existed. The ones that survive, like Kinefira’s changeling hive and the Maybo, learned to do so by clinging to their roots and not moving very far from their headquarters and capitals.

Those two are actually two of the few documented civilizations- I haven’t stuck my protagonists in the Serin much, and those two are the only ones that have cropped up except for the occasional village that has accepted their fate and relies mainly on trade and worship to survive. (The Serin is nicer to those who worship the gods, if only because getting the faithful killed isn’t usually wise.)

Kinefira’s changelings are largely militaristic, and have figured out metalworking and some agriculture, though they largely gather considering their area is generally a forest to people, and always bears edible things. Winter does not strike the area too often because of how deep the forest is. (It’s like a lake, but replace water with trees. Elk as big as whales and entire civilizations in certain divisions like the oceanic ones- like the bathypelagic division from 700-1000m deep in the ocean. Forests do this in our world to a point, with different lifeforms appearing at different depths of the forest depending on the height of the trees, but the Changeling Forest takes it to an extreme.) They live at the bottom centre of the forest at the deepest point, so it’s very humid and very hot and their metalworking underground, below their fortress, makes it no more bearable.

The Maybo, on the other hand, are a friendly bunch who don’t really disturb anyone and generally just harass each other when they feel like it. This is the description I wrote for them in Fall, and if you want to draw it, be my guest because I sure as hell can’t.

The city grew closer, and soon, I stopped at its edge, in awe of the movie-elf-like craftsmanship in everything. And then I caught sight of what must’ve been a Maybo: they were odd little creatures, actually. They were about as tall as most halflings and some gnomes, but incredibly thin and short-limbed. They were covered in fur for the most part: their forearms, heels, and around their eyes seemed to be scaled. Their fur was far longer on their back, giving off an interesting look when combined with long, faun-like ears. This Maybo’s longer fur was kept tied in what looked like a ponytail, just below their tailbone. They had an angelic looking tail, but with fur instead of feathers at the end. It was impossible to tell if they had a male-female system like humans, but they, like most ‘fantasy’ races, weren’t almost naked.

(Though I should mention that immediately after this, the Maybo in question grabs Tarathiel, takes her to the elder of the city to get a spell so she can understand their language, which I very cleverly named Meyh’ktaio and did not include a guide on how to pronounce. Then they ask her about the outside world and she just fuckin shows them her phone and Jules’ app and her selfies with all her friends. They are mystified and I had so much fun writing that scene.)

The Maybo are among some of my favourite to write for: they have absolutely no basis in anything except maybe a slight nod to RuneScape’s Naragi in appearance. I made them and their entire culture and language up on the fly. In Fall, after Tarathiel returns to them after freeing Lusmos and heading to Ilya Katayona, Lusmos’ gifts to them for helping him and his group out are a silver elk that calls to whoever is worthy that can call it, and turning their God of the Waterfall into a person again so they can act as a spiritual leader for their people. The Maybe don’t really work with the Aethelian gods, as they’ve got their waterfall guy, but the waterfall itself is made of Tomian magic and they do generally follow his creeds, so they are regarded as Tomian.

I really like the Maybo. I don’t know where they might crop up next, as they don’t generally leave their area, but I like to think there’s a few out there who might be more personable and in the spotlight than Renmi, Nmenra, and Aushla, our two background character Maybo. (I have no idea what the gender culture is like for the Maybo, but I like to think Renmi’s a trans guy. Aushla’s the elder so she’s just Old Sage Woman, but Renmi’s definitely a trans guy.)

So, all in all, it really depends on the civilization, but with limited resources and the lack of reliable trading routes for anyone, don’t expect too much in the way of advanced technology. Kinefira’s changelings are about the most high-tech you’ll be seeing for a while, if and when we ever take a thirty-thousand-word trip through the Serin again.

(I like to keep the Serin as far from coherent as possible- the less rules I put on it, the more I can stuff in there. It has some young gods in there too, but it doesn’t need to have any real requirements.)

Though I feel I should mention that Ilya Serina is the real base of the whole project- not Ilya Aethela or Haridor or even Tarathiel: the Serin is what ties the whole project together, just as it ties the realms together. No novel I have written concerning the project at all hasn’t had at least a brief trip through it. It’s my pride and joy.

And yes, at one point I really did call it Afiroja. What was wrong with past me.

#ilya serina project #Anonymous #asks

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ambeann · 4 years

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NOIR - Lucifer Lyrics

[Hangul + Romanization] NOIR - Lucifer [EP] Up the sky : 飛 Artist: NOIR (느와르) Genre: Dance Release Date: 2020.04.27 ©℗ LUK factory Lyricist: 이정욱 (MI.O), 신승훈 Composer: 이정욱 (MI.O), 신승훈 Arranger: 이정욱 (MI.O)

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Romanization I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER nan maeil bam naege mureo huhoeneun angennyago mureo sucheon beonui jilmungwa (sucheon beonui jilmungwa) suman beonui daedapdeul Oh I'll be there you call me baro jilleo Uh nan neoreul wihaeseon tarakjjeumeun deo swiwo ne kiseu baro wie naragi itdago haedo nan gario nega nal wonhamyeon derireo ga sindo mageul su eomneun road nal bichuneun bit geu hanareul wonhae geugeomyeon dwae nal bichwojullae nega nareul kkaewo nal ireukyeojwo nan nuni meoreo beoryeosseo nan ije meomchul su eopseo nacheoreom modeun geol da beoril su inna l don't care about me ya neol hyanghae Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' eotteon jitdo hal su isseo nan neol hyanghae Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' nan amugeotdo duryeopji anha <![CDATA[ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ]]> I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER neol wihae Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER neol hyanghae Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER neol hyanghae Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' neomanui Fallin' down heomnanhalgeol algo isseo This way nan jeonbureul beoryeotgo neol eodeosseo nega nae gachireul ollyeojwo Not without you naege neoran geon hanjulgi bit gata Fellin' paradise nege ttwieo Fallin' love nal bichuneun bit geu hanareul wonhae geugeomyeon dwae nal bichwojullae nega nareul kkaewo nal ireukyeojwo nan nuni meoreo beoryeosseo nan ije meomchul su eopseo Please be me gachi itneun modeun geol da georeo l don't care about me ya neol hyanghae Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' eotteon jitdo hal su isseo nan neol hyanghae Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' nan amugeotdo duryeopji anha I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER neol wihae Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER neol hyanghae Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER neol hyanghae Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' neomanui Fallin' down kkeuteomneun miro sogeseo nal kkeonaejwo jamdeulgo sipeo neoui mam geu sogeseo deo taoreuge nae jeonbureul georeo neol taoreuge bichi doe-eo nal indohaejwo Baby, I just fallin' down neol hyanghae Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' eotteon jitdo hal su isseo nan neol hyanghae Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' nan amugeotdo duryeopji anha I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER neol wihae Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER neol hyanghae Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER neol hyanghae Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' neomanui Fallin' down Hangeul I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 난 매일 밤 내게 물어 후회는 않겠냐고 물어 수천 번의 질문과 (수천 번의 질문과) 수만 번의 대답들 Oh I'll be there you call me 바로 질러 Uh 난 너를 위해선 타락쯤은 더 쉬워 네 키스 바로 위에 나락이 있다고 해도 난 가리오 네가 날 원하면 데리러 가 신도 막을 수 없는 road 날 비추는 빛 그 하나를 원해 그거면 돼 날 비춰줄래 네가 나를 깨워 날 일으켜줘 난 눈이 멀어 버렸어 난 이제 멈출 수 없어 나처럼 모든 걸 다 버릴 수 있나 l don't care about me ya 널 향해 Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' 어떤 짓도 할 수 있어 난 널 향해 Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' 난 아무것도 두렵지 않아 <![CDATA[ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ]]> I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 널 위해 Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 널 향해 Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 널 향해 Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' 너만의 Fallin' down 험난할걸 알고 있어 This way 난 전부를 버렸고 널 얻었어 네가 내 가치를 올려줘 Not without you 내게 너란 건 한줄기 빛 같아 Fellin' paradise 네게 뛰어 Fallin' love 날 비추는 빛 그 하나를 원해 그거면 돼 날 비춰줄래 네가 나를 깨워 날 일으켜줘 난 눈이 멀어 버렸어 난 이제 멈출 수 없어 Please be me 가치 있는 모든 걸 다 걸어 l don't care about me ya 널 향해 Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' 어떤 짓도 할 수 있어 난 널 향해 Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' 난 아무것도 두렵지 않아 I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 널 위해 Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 널 향해 Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 널 향해 Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' 너만의 Fallin' down 끝없는 미로 속에서 날 꺼내줘 잠들고 싶어 너의 맘 그 속에서 더 타오르게 내 전부를 걸어 널 타오르게 빛이 되어 날 인도해줘 Baby, I just fallin' down 널 향해 Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' 어떤 짓도 할 수 있어 난 널 향해 Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' Droppin' 난 아무것도 두렵지 않아 I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 널 위해 Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 널 향해 Fallin' down I'm LUCIFER LUCIFER 널 향해 Fallin' Fallin' Fallin' 너만의 Fallin' down English Translation N/A Source: Genie Music Romanization: K-Lyrics For You English Translation: N/A K-Lyrics For You Lyrics, Korean Song, Kpop Song, Kpops Lyrics, Korean Lyrics from NOIR - Lucifer Lyrics http://sinkpop.blogspot.com/2020/04/noir-lucifer-lyrics.html Korean Song Lyrics Kpop Artis Korean Boyband Korean Girlband from Blogger Lirik Lagu Korea NOIR - Lucifer Lyrics http://kpopslyric.blogspot.com/2020/04/noir-lucifer-lyrics.html

#Lirik Lagu Korea

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courtiers · 6 years

Text

god that bit in tww when he’s dying and he pulls you into his memories as he’s slowly passing away and you walk through his memories of his old home and you walk up the hill past that old god and there’s a sign by the road that’s more distinct than the others and you examine it and realise that it’s because it’s the sign he walked past every day on his way home and how he’s dying and there’s no naragi left at all and you’re the one who has to keep that memory now? fucked up man. fucked up.

that bit in kindred spirits where s finally loses his cool because you’ve pulled back the curtain on his plans and everything he’s done has the chance of being unravelled and he just grabs you and beats the shit out of you and it’s the first time you ever see him lose his cool? good shit. good shit.

#rs #i've been putting off doing nomad's requiem for a while because i don't want to never see brand again

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

Could I request headcannons for a nonbinary reader who’s had both Aguni and Naragi fall in love with them?

Sure! Hope this is alright! ❤

Omg this would be interesting

With Niragi’s impulsive personality and Aguni’s scarily calm demeanour they would contrast each other so much in this situation

Being stuck between the two most dangerous men at The Beach, the reader would have almost no one to turn to who’s willing to help them

Let’s start with Niragi

Niragi would not know how to handle his emotions

And since he would be confused as he’s probably ever been attracted to women his whole life, falling in love with someone who’s nonbinary would make him all the more interested in them

I think he would be quite annoying at first and would do stupid things to try and get their attention

Like being an egotistical bastard and killing someone in front of them to impress them in some weird way (at least he thought it would work somehow)

At games he would glued to them

Not even letting them out of his sight and forcing them to stay by his side

But when he started to notice Aguni’s growing infatuation with them, he would become all the more violent and scary

Like at executives meetings he would keep a firm arm around them to show Aguni that they’re his and no one else's

Aguni would become really afraid of how Niragi would treat them, so he would take every chance he gets to see them

That’s includes bringing them to games with him and getting them to help him out around the hotel at times

He would definitely be more loving and considerate than Niragi, as he obviously keeps those he cares for close in his thoughts

At first he would feel the need to protect them because he knows Niragi had taken a liking to them, but after a while he realises he only cares so much because he had fallen in love

But for a short scenario: when the two finally figure out what’s happening, Aguni would force Niragi to stay back after a executive meeting to talk with him

They end up screaming at each other and Niragi storming out, going to look for the reader so he can hide them from Aguni before he can find them

After Niragi locks them into a room in which only he has the key to, Aguni would begin to stress and worry about what he’s done to them

Would find Niragi and start basically tearing him apart, threatening to kill him if he didn’t tell him where he hid them

So overall, it would not be fun to be stuck between these two

Niragi would constantly be trying to get them away from Aguni and keep them to himself in the harshest ways possible

And Aguni would always be always fighting to keep them behind him so they’re out of reach of the psychotic man

Addition to this: {Aguni and Niragi comforting the reader when they’re having a C-PSTD/BPD episode}

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jahaanofmenaphos · 5 years

Photo

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

Read the full work here:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

FANFICTION.NET

TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 03: LET SLEEPING GODS LIE

QUEST SUMMARY:

Jahaan stumbles upon a newly excavated chamber, one that a charismatic young stranger claims to be where Guthix resides under the earth. However, once this knowledge becomes commonplace, many different factions come to a head, either to protect the sleeping god, wake him, or destroy him…

CHAPTER 4: END SONG

The cavern appeared to be a bottomless abyss; the background was the darkest fathomable black, a blank canvas to star-like energy particles floating upwards into the nothingness. Beneath the platform Jahaan had entered, a figure stood tall, so tall that he could have stretched from the centre of the planet and Jahaan would be none the wiser, with thick green skin and a crown of glowing orbs to sit atop his humanoid head. He was most certainly awake; his blue eyes looked up at the adventurer with contentment.

Guthix.

Peering down over the edge of the platform, Jahaan saw a series of rocks jutting outwards, leading closer to Guthix. On these rocks stood Orlando, staring up at the giant deity. Jahaan was about to call out to him, when suddenly, a flash of light enveloped the architect, causing Jahaan to shield his vision. When he managed to open his eyes again, Orlando was no more, and in his place stood a shadowy figure.

His purple robes were broken up at the hood by stripes of red and black, decorative and imposing. Tiny yellow pupils glistened in his black, hollow eyes; when he turned to look up at Jahaan, his smile was wicked and mischievous, like one of a proud sinner.

Jahaan’s eyes narrowed into slits. Sliske.

With a wave of his wrist, a large staff appeared in his hands, two golden wings at the end with a blue crystal in between them. Turning back to Guthix, he held the staff aloft, and moments later, a violent burst of lightning shot from the end and pierced into Guthix’s heart. Guthix roared in agony, shaking the chamber with his pained cries. An orange liquid started seeping from the wound, faster and faster as the staff’s energy plunged deeper into the god’s chest. Jahaan could only watch, helpless, as Guthix’s life force was drained away.

Content with the damage he had done, Sliske teleported away.

Guthix’s head lulled forwards, his chest heaving with staggered breaths as his raspy throat fought for air.

In the silence, Jahaan was frozen in place, unable to take his eyes off the wound on Guthix’s chest. He almost fell to the ground when a voice echoed around him.

“Do not be afraid. You have no enemies here. As I believe you know, I am Guthix.”

Trying to regain a level-head, Jahaan cleared his throat before replying, “What just happened? Are you injured?”

“Sliske was wielding an elder weapon. A god slayer, if you will. I am dying, Jahaan Alsiyad-Abut. But we still have time. It has been most interesting watching your brave journey to get here.”

Jahaan’s eyes widened. “You knew what was happening outside?”

“Yes. I saw everything. You put up an honourable defence and I thank you. Before the end, there is something I must show you. I must share this with someone, before these memories die with me…”

When the world faded back into life, Jahaan was standing in a foreign land, consisting of what appeared to be giant trees supporting shattered floating islands, which had leaves dangling from the bottom of them. Lights could be seen hanging from branches, and broken paths connected some of the islands, which had tree roots flowing through them. Purple plants of varying sizes were found growing in every direction.

“Guthix?” Jahaan called out, puzzled.

“I am here,” Guthix assured, teleporting in front of him. He was considerably smaller than before, standing barely an inch taller than Jahaan himself. His skin was a mossy green, with shawn bark-coloured hair on his head. His golden robes were that of a simple man, tattered and passed down for generations, but still with enough life in them to last. He had no armour and bore no weapons, and anyone could not be blamed for mistaking him for a farmer of this world.

“I have taken a form from my past,” Guthix announced, quietly, as if he didn’t wish to disturb the silent surroundings.

“Your past? Where are we?”

“This is my homeland. Or rather, my last memories of it, moments before I left.”

Jahaan crinkled his brow. “Your homeland?”

The two began walking through the remains of this world. “Have patience, all will be explained. You saw Sliske - the Mahjarrat - deal his final blow... I am dying. I have slowed our passage of time momentarily, so I may share this with you. Many millennia ago, I was born here, on Naragun, far away from the land you call home. From as far back as I can remember, this world was in turmoil. My world was home to many gods; many beings who would claim it as their own. The gods fought relentlessly, and as more and more came, the fighting became increasingly vicious. War broke out and lasted for centuries. The world was ravaged, and the population decimated. And do you know who came out the victor, Jahaan?”

Jahaan shook his head.

“No one. No one emerged triumphant from this ordeal,” Guthix’s reply was sharp and loaded. “My people were killed. All of my friends, my family. I was left to stand alone on this devastated plane, with memories of what my life had been.”

There were corpses scattered all around the barren landscape; Jahaan deduced that these must be Guthix's memories of his friends and family, all killed in the wars that destroyed this world. Their clothes were basic, and they carried no weapons. They looked more like farmers and crafters than warriors, the kind of people that would not stand much of a chance against a god's army. It was sickening that so many of the dead were not soldiers. As the gods' battles became more fervent, innocent citizens must have become accidental casualties, eventually wiping out Guthix's race altogether.

“What about the gods?” Jahaan inquired.

“Many died. Many fled,” Guthix guided Jahaan to a dead god that loomed over the landscape, terrifying even in death. His appearance suggested that he was not a benevolent god, although even if he were it seems that none of the gods who visited this world cared much for the mortals living upon it.

“He is one of the fallen. A god, long-dead and forgotten,” Guthix explained. “In the last days of the war, I believed I was soon to die, too. There was no food, no water. I scavenged among the dead, until one day I found a weapon; a large sword, crackling with energy. I recognised it as a weapon of the gods. The 'elder weapons', as they referred to them. These weapons were prized among them, and they fought desperately over these. I knew it to be my only chance, so I took it. Having seen so much violence, I do not believe in it as a solution. But in this case, I had no other choice. In the dead of night, I crept from the ruins of my home. I found a slumbering god - the god you see before you - peaceful amid the rubble. I stabbed him with the elder weapon, driving it deep into his back. The weapon shattered as the god reared back in pain before crashing to the ground. As I watched him take his last breaths, I felt power growing within me. I became a god myself, equal to those who had tormented my life. I left this world and its painful memories. I fled for centuries, aimlessly wandering until something captured my attention. I felt drawn to a planet - Gielinor. It was beautiful, and more importantly, empty. It was somewhere I could hide, and mourn my dead. I had not expected to find the Stone upon it - the Stone of Jas - granting me a power greater than even the gods of my homeworld.”

The two walked past what appeared to be the remains of a ruined temple. Some of Guthix's race must have begun to worship the gods who came to this world, creating shrines and temples for them, becoming caught up in the very war that destroyed them. A warped form of Stockholm syndrome. If he squinted, Jahaan thought he could pick out a familiar symbol carved onto what was left of the shrine.

It was a four-pointed star.

Before he decided to continue that particularly saddening train of thought, Jahaan stopped their strolling beside an unidentified corpse. Unlike Guthix's race, this creature was clearly a warrior. It almost looked as if it was created purely for combat, with strong muscles and thick skin. It could have ripped a naragi to shreds in seconds. The creature was wearing tough armour, bearing the mark of a long-forgotten god.

Jahaan inquired, “What is this? It doesn't look like any race I've ever seen.”

“It is a god's warrior - a creature introduced to this world only for war. The sparring gods brought in other races to fight for them, creating their own armies, much like how the Mahjarrat were introduced to Gielinor. When I arrived in Gielinor, I spent a long time alone. I didn't know what my future held, or what I should do next. Eventually, I came upon what I believed was my purpose. I aimed to create a world free of the influence of gods, a world where the inhabitants would not have to fight other beings' wars. So, I introduced my own chosen races: humans, gnomes, dwarves, sheep... beings who do not strongly tend towards evil, nor good. I chose tribes who had no concept of gods, and I brought them to Gielinor, to live uninfluenced lives while I retained the balance. I even bought Seren with me, and she brought her elves…” Guthix paused for a moment, lost in his own reminiscing. Shaking his head, his light tone turned sorrowful once more as he continued, “But I was naive; my plan would never work. I should have seen it coming. I introduced the mortals to the world, and 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. 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.”

As he spoke, Guthix’s voice was growing weaking, fading. “I feel my strength draining. We are nearly at the end.”

The two walked up some floating wooden steps, held together with study tree roots. Beside the steps stood a stone tablet among the ruins. The clarity of the writing suggested that Guthix had a strong memory of this tablet; perhaps it was something he saw every day, or something dear to him. Along the path, just beyond the stone, stood the crumbled remains of a house.

As they continued up the steps, Guthix continued, “When I ended the war of the gods, I did it with no pleasure. I already knew I had failed. Looking over Gielinor, it was like looking at my homeland: the land ravaged; the mortals worshiping 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, nor the blind faith displayed by their followers. Besides, my own interference would only disrupt the balance even more. I have disproportionate power, more than any single being should have. But now, balance will be restored, with my passing. I could have prevented this, Jahaan. I have been awake since you triggered the alarm. I knew what would happen.”

Realisation dawned upon Jahaan heavily. “You… you could have stopped Sliske... why didn't you?”

“Jahaan, 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 world. A dead, desolate wasteland... Gielinor must be protected, Jahaan. But not by me. By a mortal. Someone with the power to defend against the gods, but not the power to be one.”

Guthix cringed, clutching his chest as he groaned, “Ah… it is... the pain is becoming stronger. Please, follow me into me house… my home…”

The two walked inside the remnants of Guthix’s house. From what was left of the structure, it looked like something that, before being destroyed, was a lovely piece of architecture, strong but… cosy, almost. It… had an aura about, a warmth that Jahaan let pass over him. The house would have been big enough for a family. For Guthix’s family.

Now, there was only one bed left inside, and that was comprised of nothing more than a somewhat flat stone tablet.

Doubling over, Guthix clutched onto the wall for balance, a desperate attempt to remain standing. “I have... so little time. Please, listen carefully, Jahaan. I have already shared my power with you, chosen you as one of my creatures, so that you may reach this point. When this is over, you will find yourself with even more power. Power you may use to defend against gods. You must be a guardian of this world, Jahaan. Gielinor must be free.”

To see Guthix in such a weary state, to see what his world had become, and how it shaped him into the being he was known to be on Gielinor, Jahaan was on the edge of tears. He was not above admitting his emotions when such emotions were justified. Sniffing them back, he vowed, “I’ll do as you ask. I’ll use your powers to protect Gielinor from the gods.”

The smile Guthix managed was so weak, so frail. He edged over towards his bed and crawled on top of it. “I am glad to have found such a noble mortal as you, Jahaan. My blessing is with you.”

He closed his eyes, one final time. “It is over. My family waits for me. Remember... your purpose, Jahaan... and please… forget me.”

When Jahaan opened his eyes again, he was standing in the cavern, on the edge, looking down at the lifeless form of Guthix. It was so silent. The tears he had been holding back on Naragun released themselves here.

Numbly, he walked back through the tunnels, back out into the main chamber, where he found the fighting had continued in his absence. He didn’t even know how much time had passed; Guthix mentioned something about slowing the passage of time, but not to what extent.

What was evident were the casualties in his absence. Juna was lying motionless on the floor, with druids tending to her. From all sides of the battle, people had fallen.

His return to the main room caught the eye of Azzanadra. “Jahaan, what happened in there?”

Now, more and more people stopped their fighting to turn to him. The grave atmosphere was answer enough, but they all waited on baited breath, praying for their desired outcome.

Taking a deep breath, Jahaan looked among the faces of the crowd before announcing, “Guthix is dead.”

The chamber descended into silence, before some of the Guthixians broke out into quiet sobs and disbelieving whispers.

Even the Mahjarrat looked suitably shocked. Only the Saradominists had the nerve to look gleeful.

"I... I did this,” Jahaan continued, his voice wavering. “The man I brought with me, Orlando, was actually the Mahjarrat Sliske in disguise..."

Many of the gathered gasped, turning threatening eyes over to Azzanadra, who for his part looked just as horrified. “This… this was not our intention, you must believe me. He gave me his word. He...”

“To believe a snake?” Chaeldar spat. “We would be imbeciles!”

Kaqemeex put an reassuring hand on Jahaan’s shoulder. "You are not to blame, Jahaan. None of us saw through his deception. We share the blame."

The Valluta shook her head, her mouth held agape. "Guthix would not have let a peon like Sliske destroy him, surely?"

Jahaan sighed at the memory. "It was his will. He said he knew what was to happen, and he accepted it."

"B-But why? Why would he leave us?"

Death cut in, "We could discuss this all night, but there is no point. Guthix is dead. His edicts are broken. That means the gods can return to Gielinor."

In a beat, it hit them all, with Thaerisk voicing the unspeakable, "The wars could begin again..."

Suddenly, the ground started shake, knocking crumbling fragments from the wall out of their places and onto the ground, making rubble out of them.

“What’s happening?” Chaeldar cried, hovering higher to try and see the cause of the disruption. “Another Zarosian trick?”

Trying to maintain his footing, Azzanadra desperately protested, “This is not of our doing!”

Then, in a brilliant flash of blue light, a figure emerged. His skin was pale blue, covered by a flowing blue robe and gold armour. A gold and diamond two-tiered crown sat atop his head, and on his chest plate was printed the symbol of his religion - a four-pointed star.

He turned to Azzanadra and his small band of followers. “This is no place for battle. Go back to your hiding places.”

With a snap of his fingers, he teleported the trio away.

Instantly, Commander Zilyana fell to her knees in a deep bow. "Saradomin, my lord! You have returned! Look, our rival Guthix-"

"Silence, Zilyana,” his voice was booming, demanding obedience. “It is not right to revel in bloodshed. What has been done could not have been helped. Guthix was not an evil god. Like myself, he yearned to make the world a better place for those who dwell upon it. But his notion of balance was flawed, and his presence meant that I could not return. It was not an easy decision, but Guthix had to die. But, Zilyana, that does not mean we should gloat over the events here."

Rising to her feet, Zilyana bowed her head once more. "I apologise, my lord."

Saradomin turned to Jahaan, his demeanor that of someone who believes he rules over all be surveys, the superiority only a god can lay claim to. "So, human, you were alone with Guthix in his last breaths. Tell me, do you know who I am?"

Jahaan's initial response was to be measured - after all, he was in the presence of yet another god. But when he saw that familiar symbol emblazoned on Saradomin's chest, he instead saw red.

"You were there, weren't you?"

"Pardon?"

"On Naragun," Jahaan pressed, his voice a blade. "You were there, in the wars. You tore Guthix's homeland apart."

Saradomin sighed, almost in annoyance. It only made Jahaan angrier. "That was many centuries ago. You only have half the story, mortal."

Jahaan knew how Saradomin came to Gielinor, knew his large, destructive role in the God Wars of the Third Age. His opinion of the deity wasn't anything special, but after seeing how he'd tried this act on world's before Gielinor infuriated Jahaan. "Oh, and what's the other half? You just wanted to bring peace and order to Naragun? The world was doing fine without you, just like Gielinor was."

"Hmph. I see Guthix has been infesting your mind with many tales. No matter. I'm sure we will get to talk again in the future, and I do hope I will get to share my side of the story with you. Right now, however, is not the time, nor the place. Much has happened here today. With the edicts broken, the world will soon enter a new age. More gods will be coming... I apologise, human. I do hope we meet again, but for now I must ask you to leave. I have much to do here."

Saradomin attempted to teleport Jahaan away, just like he did the Zarosians, but the spell only knocked Jahaan a few steps backwards, like he'd been shoved. The deity crinkled his brow. "Interesting... you shouldn't be able to resist my power."

Jahaan flashed a challenging grin, laced with fury. He made sure to pronounce every single word carefully when he explained, "I can resist, because before he died, Guthix imparted some of his power to me. Power to guard the world from the gods that wish to control it. Gods like you, Saradomin."

Saradomin regarded the human before him with a reserved glare. "Impressive... Guthix must have seen something special in you. Or he was that desperate. Who knows? Consider your choices, human. Guthix may have presented you with the world as he sees it, but that is not the only view. There are other more worthy paths. No one should wish for another war of the gods, but sometimes violence is necessary before we can achieve a greater peace. It would be wise to ensure you are on the right side when that violence begins. I will leave you now to think on that. I'm sure we'll meet again... World Guardian."

Saradomin teleported away, and Jahaan dropped to his knees, his swords clattering to the ground. He fought desperately for breath, to regain composure, but it was an uphill battle. The confrontation with Saradomin, coupled with the trip through the memories of Guthix, had drained Jahaan both physically and mentally.

“So this is it, then,” the words caught in Fiara’s throat. “Guthix is dead.”

“We have little time to mourn,” Death replied. “Saradomin has returned.”

“You are right. We must act quickly if we are to mount a defence, to protect ourselves,” the Valluta stated firmly. She turned to Kaqemeex and the druids surrounding him, asking, “Juna… will she live?”

Kaqemeex sighed, heavily. “She sustained a large gash in the battle. I have administered all I can for now. She’s alive. Whether she regains consciousness is another matter.”

Chaeldar rubbed the tears at her eyes, angrily. “I’m going to make Sliske pay for this.”

“You aren’t the only one who wants to make Sliske suffer,” Jahaan asserted. “Right now though, we need to think of the bigger picture. The gods are coming back. We need to focus on doing what we can to minimise their damage.”

“And what can we alone hope to do?” Fiara’s tone was one of defeat.

Sighing, Jahaan replied, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

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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#runescape #fan fiction #sliske #guthix #zemouregal #azzanadra

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