[Event Aftermath] Final Guidance | Fall of Lumbridge

[Werew0lf 24181]

 

 

@Zarsies

 

Mordring,

 

With the utmost reluctance, I must inform you that this quiet game of little outings for pathetic triumphs must come to an end. 

 

You have overstepped a boundary that has forced me into a position where I must act. Understand that it has never been in my disposition for great unruly displays of power, but what becomes of Lumbridge is of your own making. I have simply played the better hand.

 

A king beneath with the virtuoso of a peasant, there is no divine providence in your reign. You have lost the glory and the reputation of your former greatness. It is time to put down your crown of shadows and retire.

 

Take this as a final act of guidance.

 

I have left a gift for you – in the past, you enjoyed reading my books. With a lot of heart and effort, I have written a story that may satisfy your desire for my wisdom. Remember:

 

Knowledge begets wisdom,

A mentor.

FINAL GUIDANCE

An action packed fantasy novel about a wizard and Xionists!

 

[This is written as a childish fantasy novel, it does not accurately describe the roleplay. You may find this story-book published in libraries around Aevos, including physical signed-book items. For all intents and purposes, the story is written to be dramatically corny. Ignore screenshots, this is just to show snippets of the actual roleplay for cool effect]. 

 

The city-hold of Xion ostracized the world amongst a cage of high-capering mountains, their vast spires reaching towards the clouds in an endless hunger to devour the gods at its peak. To most, Lumbridge was already a core landmark to the continent – a place hosting most evil, cruel machinations of necrotic, mystic and infernal make. 

 

At the crucible of their throne, an alien trill perforated the air, it contained the old and ancient prowess of the Abyss – a gate, its size claiming a full room’s length and height. Unfortunately, those mystics of Lumbridge had fallen out of favour with the King Beneath.

 

With a stolen artifact in tow by the competing forces of the Umbrage Herald, the sky lit in rage, distraught, and in this case, the mettling of a wizard. 

 

Those Xionists, worshippers to the ideology of the Primeval Man, decided to stall their efforts towards other accomplishments. Somehow, by rare chance or a fateful occurrence, the Xion forces landed at the pit of a deep cave burbling with adherent sorcery. It warped the bevels of space and time, spitting at the world in cosmic vocation.

 

They dribbled at the world, spoke of their hate at the Gods, and their love for Mordring, who they had claimed sent them from the forts of Lumbridge to make mockery of the wizard. Taunting at the egoism of a faultless being, ridiculing his oath for not keeping the artifact unstolen.

 

Wise, sagely, and keen on research, the wizard could not placate his rage at this mockery. “How,” was all that it could muster. “Deliver my word!” the wizard exclaimed, fist curling up in rage. The fellowship set out on their new quests – a message would be delivered.

 

Trot, trot, trot, their horses chased the wind, their brows stifled in anxiety, and their armour cluttered from the fierce tuttling mane of their stallion. The fellowship halted before the large iron bars of the Xionist hold looked onwards to the lord of its hold, “Hear me, hear me, those of Xion! We come with a message!” and in a dramatic gesture, a long scroll unwinded outwards. “I had tolerated your existence, and let you live in unachievable dreams. I let you construct high walls, and did not stop you in this senseless war! I was at peace, and tolerated breathing the same air as you! You have done what must not be done! Now, as I have once taught your king, I will now guide you!” 

 

The scroll was rolled back up, and the fellowship turned. Trot, trot, trot.

 

Lumbridge has fallen.

 

 

 

 

Authored by

Thalandir.

 

 

[ST]:

 

Lumbridge has been destroyed. This event lasted 6 hours – apologies if it was not the most enjoyable.

 

Please feel free to send photos in the comments.

 

I have put some images from @DahStalker in the spoiler below.

 

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[wowj 9766]

In the aftermath of battle and bloodshed, the Blue Oni, Takemura had but a lone lingering thought, bringing a pen to paper he began to scrawl before leaving a single note in the ashes of Lumbridge.

Dear Mordring, I want my ring back. I kept it safe for longer than your people ever could, Fourty-Two years is a long time for 'FLESH-BAGS' as you referred to us as lovingly.

P.S I hope you like chicken.

See you soon;
-Admiral Takemura, your longest serving Ring-Bearer.

[xo31 4013]

Ser Lazarus barely managed to escape the battle, on his way out- the scorching heat melting his armor to his very figure. He crawled to a safe place, beaten, and scarred for life. The mystic only barely lived to see another day.

 

Arthur stared upon Lumbridge from a distant mountain. His eyes became somewhat glossy at all of the memories, the saving of the place he believed he tried to do, and the escapism from it he only barely managed. He turned, and ventured back to his duties. Paperwork, anda ll.

 

Elijah's fate had been wiped. A sense of relief befell the young man.

[AntiSociety 710]

Aratakrast held his mangled piece of shoulder, an arm missing.

 

"I will avenge this deed, and sow the seeds of dissent.. You may block the radiant glare of our sun, yet shine it shall. These misdeeds will never be forgiven, for this is war."

 

He angrily thought aloud.

[Conqueror 424]

Spoiler

theres no mordring without ring then its only mord

 

1 minute ago, wowj said:

Takemura too left a note, though it was unlikely to reach Mordring;

"Dear Mordring, may I have my ring back? I kept it safer than your people ever could."

 

[Xergarok 811]

Fighting on the frontlines for the first time in many years, the Barrowlord felt a sense of rebirth.

Liberation, perhaps, from a legacy which could never have truly been marked by its own hand.

 

Now the doors had been opened for the wayward Shepherds who remained loyal to him. It knew

this had strengthened its resolve rather than broken it. Still something gnawed at the back of its mind.

"We never met Thalandir in any formal capacity... Nor would we ever taunt them... Who then?"

 

Spoiler

Pleasantly surprised by a CRP of such magnitude and duration! Time for us to find a new home though...

 

[Morigung-oog 5697]

Somewhere, a former herald, seeking their path to redemption in their own way, smiled. Where they should have felt horror, fury, they felt only a sense of liberation.

[King_Kunuk 3025]

Felix Wick remembers leading the charge. The sound of blades, the screams of the dying. A hammer fell upon the head of a nephlim- slaves battered templars into near death; but all was for naught- for their ritual had succeeded.

 

Melevolence for the living blazed in his eyes, a hatred for the Wizard which wrought this all brimming in his heart.

 

"Our vengence shall be swift, and brutal, O' Wizard. mark my words" he spoke with spite in his voice. But fear gripped his heart. Blight Town- his home would be next if this mad dragon had any thought of it. They must prepare.

[FlemishSupremacy 6115]

A Nephilim retreated to Tor'Praeth, after the battle, licking wounds and being cleansed by trusted kin. Despite the grievous toll, he was content with the outcome of the battle.

Spoiler

I thought it was a great event! Kudos to the Xionists for the great showing!

 

[wolfdwg 2677]

Faenor would ride away from the armageddon levels of destruction that wrought the sight of their camp and Lumbridge. Ever so often, he'd begin invoking the weaves of fate to spur on his stead, exerting the limits of his stallion to double the normal speed. The norn was spattered with dirt and falling snow as debris pelted his back as effectively the 'godhammer' fell onto the lair of mystics. Many were spared certain death in the fighting against Mordring's Legions, due to his invocations of fate, but had any survived that blast? He had not known. He continued his path brewing on the words of his unseen benefactor on a prophecy that was bestowed onto him before this endeavor. Alone and with no-one else to hear him in his journey back to Solgaard, he uttered a phrase.

"Thalandir could've killed us all..."

[lemonke 6014]

"BAHAHAKAKAAKAKAKA! It seems those who backstab have finally met their end. All it took was spreading lies, sowing hatred, and gathering just enough information to bring chaos within their ranks. Let this be a lesson for them—mortals are as useful as the dead. Life itself is a tool, meant to be manipulated, bent, and wielded to achieve greater strength and grandiose ambitions."

 

The High Priestess of the Black Church cackled, her laughter echoing with joyous delight as she took in the unfolding events. Nevertheless, she presented the news to the others in her horde. Her hatred for Mordring burned ever brighter, the desire to slay him festering and growing with each passing day. Yet, for now, her accursed gaze shifted to move toward the desert—where new targets awaited. She'd continue to use her mortal allies to pursue her dream of conquest.

 

"One by One. I will win, Aratakrast!"

 

Spoiler

 

[Familiar_Nobody 31]

Pelz stood, with armor warped from intense heat, "A shame to have not wet my blade on such worthy enemy. Perhaps next time," trudging off to prepare for his next great fight.

[LordCrowe 173]

A certain ghoul followed in the wake of his master, crossbow slung over his shoulder. He spared a glance behind him, at the crater that became of Lumbridge, and reminisced on the battle that occurred.

His part wasn't a glorious charge for the black sun, but to direct arbalest fire from the battlements. He had done well, all things considered, but still the ghoul shook his head, it wasn't enough in the end.

 

Drakorst'deztrok was getting real tired of running... and if his master was right, this wasn't the end.

[Ryanark 2738]

 

Spoiler

Thank you for the event WW and thank you so much to Lumbridge for giving such a great fight and narrative!

 

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

The Oyashi sniper KATO ENA made the most of the haze that blanketed the battlefield.  Having fired a handful of slayer steel bolts and lobbed a few explosives down from a crow's nest, he tried to provide what cover he could offer against enemy archers and cavalry as the fellowship made their charge and assault on the apparition and opposing forces. It was a proud moment for the nationalist who got to be apart of the end of a 87 year long conflict. But deep down he knew this was not truly the end but another step in the eternal shadow war to protect his homeland.

 

"Number 24. The greatest instrument of peace is my .44 Braecorp smoothbore tripod mounted tanegashima," Ena quotes the Little Pink Book and made his way back home, feeling a mix of contentment from the victory and sadness with the loss of his animii friend.