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Thread: The Tale of Aron, Update Chapter Fifteen, March 6th

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    TheDarkKnight's Avatar Compliance will be rewarded
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    Default The Tale of Aron, Update Chapter Fifteen, March 6th

    So, I have been writing a story off an on for several years and I have never really had the chance to share it. It is set in the fictional world of Runescape, which, for those who might not know what that is, is the MMORPG created by Jagex Ltd. In any case, the story has grown and evolved over time, originally being just a short story I wrote for my clan mates. It has evolved into a ~23,000 word story, but it isn't quite finished. I haven't had any time to finish it, but I figured I might as well share what I have. Here is the first chapter.

    If you spot any errors, please point them out. I have proofread this chapter, if I remember correctly, but I am not perfect, and I will never claim to be.

    The Tale of Aron: Chapter One
    Chapter One Chapter 1
    This is the tale of one man, destined to serve the Kingdom of Misthalin, and eventually, the whole world, in vanquishing evil. He rises from a simple son of a soldier to a great leader of the free world. This is his story.

    Our hero was born in the prosperous town of Varrock, in the Kingdom of Misthalin. His father was a soldier in the army, and one day he left for war. He promised his son he would return. A year passes, and our young hero anxiously awaits for his fathers return. One day, our hero sees a great column of soldiers coming home, victorious from battle, and he waits outside. His father returns, just not in the way our young hero wants him to. His body is laid on the doorsteps, and the rest of the soldiers depart. Our young hero collapses to the ground, weeping, and he vows that he will grow up to the finest soldier in Gielinor.

    10 years pass. Our hero is now old enough to join the Army of Varrock. He takes his father’s armor with him to the training grounds. He had cleaned his father’s old armor, a set of iron with an iron medium helmet, some rusty chainmail, a dented shield, and a longsword, and started putting it to good use. After many months in training, becomes a fully fledged soldier, had graduated from the term "recruit". He is put into “A” Company of the 3rd Royal Regiment, an elite unit that his father had belonged to. His Captain was his father’s old friend, Nakash. They shared stories of his father, and it was good times. Soon, our hero was promoted to Corporal, and he continues to become a better warrior. He will need these skills for the coming conflict.

    The world is becoming restless. The forces of evil are brewing. Our young hero and his unit are called to assist the Army of Falador of the Kingdom of Asgarnia in their campaign against the Dark Knights, who have been terrorizing the area north of Falador for many years. They march the many miles to meet up with the advanced unit that is within throwing distance of the Dark Knights castle . They meet up a few miles south of the fortress, and our hero looks at the soldiers from Falador.He had heard about them, their records, but could not believe this was the forces he had heard about. These soldiers were clad in armor inferior to the army our hero belonged to, mainly bronze armor and bronze short swords, and a small bronze shield. Where were the knights our hero had heard about, the gleaming white armor?He put these thoughts aside as they got into their formations, neat lines three men deep, and begun the march up north towards the fortress. Within minutes they caught sight of the fortress, looming not far from their position. They did not know the strength of the forces inside, but our hero looked to his sides, saw the five hundred men of his unit as well as the three hundred from the Faladorian unit. Eight hundred men, slowly charging up the slope towards the fortress. Within one mile of the fortress, it begins to rain...

    Arrows whistle off the battlements, claiming the lives of many of the soldiers, from Varrock and Falador alike, but they push onward through the storm of rain and arrow alike. They reach the wall, huddling in the blind spot of the archers, and the battering ram is brought up. After several minutes of battering the main entrance, the gate gives way, and the soldiers storm in. Battling it out in the halls of the fortress, our hero claims his first kill, an unlucky soul who tried to make a break for it. Our hero cleaves him in the back with his sword, and gazes at his fallen enemy for a moment, notices the fallen ones ornate dagger, one with a red blade. Our hero picks it up and carries on the fight, bloodying his iron sword while cleaving through the flesh of his fellow man. The enemy stands no chance, their light black armor not enough to withstand the blows of the sword strokes of the over seven hundred soldiers still unharmed , but they fight on. Eventually, they realize all hope is lost, and the surviving Dark Knights flee, out the back entrance northward, to the place known only as the Wilderness, a place full of death and despair. The combined army, deciding that victory was theirs no matter what, decides to follow the Dark Knights into the Wilderness, their officers in bright steel armor coercing them into the wilderness, the wounded of their army taking care of themselves, most of the wounds not being too serious. Our hero looks forlornly south, wishing he didn’t have to go, but takes a long breath, and enters the dark wilderness.

    Marching through the deep brush takes hours, but eventually, the combined army finds where the enemy had gone: a deserted-looking fortress. Nighttime was approaching, and the army decided that there was just enough daylight for a short battle. Indeed, it would be short. The army rushed the battlements, tired but enthusiastic about getting this affair over with, and they were greeted with a resounding volley coming from the walls. The enemy had developed a new weapon, something that had been only rumors, something that they called, a “cannon”. The rushing army absorbs the first volley, taking a few casualties, but then the battlements erupts with another volley, and another. Our hero is terrified, but he presses on. Soon, the sky is full of metal and fire, and then the castle comes alive even more, with the whistling of dozens of arrows, filling the already dark sky, until very few soldiers remain standing, the rest dying or dead. The field is littered with swords and shields of the fallen, as well as body parts. The remaining soldiers retreat, but one by one, they are caught, until only our hero and his fathers friend Nakash, remain. Nakash is wounded, and tells our hero to run, he is only being slowed down. Our hero, with tears, says “No, I will not leave you! You brought my father back to me, I will bring you back to your family.” His friend says “No, if you try we will both die. Run, I will hold them off.” Our hero hesitates, “RUN!” his friend says, so he does, he runs with all his might, hearing the screams behind him as his friend is slaughtered. He runs all the way to the next battalion that was going in, and tells them to stop, that they will all be killed. Seeing the blood on the mans armor, the battalion commander orders a horse be brought up for our hero, who will be taken to the king.

    Our hero and his “rescuers” ride south to Falador, our hero thinking about his friend, about all his fallen comrades. The entire 3rd Royal Regiment, one of the most advanced fighting units in the eastern hemisphere, wiped out. Five hundred men, gone. The rest of the advanced Faladorian force, the 2nd Light Infantry, also wiped out, another three hundred men, dead, dying, and missing. Eight hundred men, snuffed out, in a few hours. Our hero thinks about these brave souls, remembers one of his friends is a stone mason, and decides he will ask for a monument for these brave men. He is so deep in thought, he doesn’t even realize that they arrived at the castle. He dismounted, and followed the other soldiers to see the king. They arrived in the throne room, the king surprised to see them.

    “What happened?” he queries.

    “The advanced force was wiped out” one soldier says.

    “All of them?”

    “Except for myself, your majesty” our young hero says.

    The king looks at this bloodied soldier, says “What is your name, son?”

    “My name, your majesty, is Aron” our hero says

    “Well son, I shall honor you as a hero…What is that?” pointing to the red dagger on Aron’s belt.

    “Oh, I took it off of a deceased Dark Knight, your majesty”

    “My family had one, a few years ago. It was stolen by a bandit. It is engraved with our seal. May I see it?”

    Aron unsheathes it, gives it to the king.

    “Aha, it does belong to my family” the king exclaims.

    “Please your majesty, keep it, consider it a tribute to you”

    The king thinks about it, says ”No, you have earned it. Consider it a token of my friendship, as well as my thanks.”

    Aron re-sheathes it, too tired to protest. The king looks at him again, and says “I see bright things in your future son…bright things”




    Feedback is VERY much appreciated
    Last edited by TheDarkKnight; December 12, 2012 at 09:41 PM.
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Okay guys, could I please get at least some feedback? Even negative (constructive) would be great.
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    A good start

    I like the 3rd person perspective and as a bonus you've managed to get some of the depth that usually comes with first person, well done

    The only things that I would watch out for would be spacing, a couple of times you have missed at a space after a full stop etc. Also the speech at the end (I think) would be better of having a line space in between each new speaker, as such:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    “What happened?” he queries.

    “The advanced force was wiped out,” one soldier says.
    “All of them?”
    “Except for myself, your majesty,” our young hero says.

    The king looks at this bloodied soldier and says “What is your name, son?”

    “My name, your majesty, is Aron,” our hero says

    “Well son, I shall honor you as a hero…What is that?” he said, pointing to the red dagger on Aron’s belt.

    “Oh, I took it off of a deceased Dark Knight, your majesty.

    “My family had one, a few years ago. It was stolen by a bandit. It is engraved with our seal. May I see it?”
    Aron unsheathes it, gives it to the king.

    “Aha, it does belong to my family,” the king exclaims.

    “Please your majesty, keep it, consider it a tribute to you.

    The king thinks about it, says ”No, you have earned it. Consider it a token of my friendship, as well as my thanks.” Aron re-sheathes it, too tired to protest. The king looks at him again, and says “I see bright things in your future son…bright things”

    I know it doesn't effect the story, but it makes it easy to read Well, it does for me anyway which in turn will improve the story.

    Another thing I have to say is it seems a bit rushed, maybe try including a bit more description in between evens etc. I know it's hard as it's the first chapter but I feel it could real help to improve the story.

    With all that aside, it was a good start and I'm looking forward to more. Keep it up I'm looking forwrad to seeing what these 'bright things' are going to be

    Hope I've helped
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    (Thanks for your feedback)

    Tale of Aron, Chapter Two
    Chapter 2 A couple of years pass, the kingdom of Misthalin is somewhat at peace, but it is not to last. The forces of evil are flocking to the banner of Lord Drakan, the tyrant of Morytania, for a campaign against Misthalin, and they are gathering along the east side of the River Salve, in the dark kingdom of Morytania. There are rumors of not only man, but half breeds and monsters in the ranks. Dark tales are told of werewolves and vampires capturing and torturing members of the outpost that is there to guard the border, turning them into their own. As their ranks grow, they begin to form a plan, a plan to expand the borders of Morytania…

    Aron was an accomplished warrior by now, and had risen to the rank of Sergeant. Although devastated by the loss of such a fine fighting unit, the King of Varrock immediately issued a call for volunteers, and over a few months, they flowed in. Being a Sergeant, Aron was charged with getting his company into fighting shape, while his new Captain, Aneiad, looked on. In a few short months, the new unit, the 10th Royal Regiment, was in fighting shape, but no where near the prowess of the 3rd Royal Regiment. Still, eventually they would get there. Now, two years later, the unit is considered a good replacement for the previous one, and officially added to the Army of Varrock. Aron was also responsible in training the new 3rd Royal Regiment, if only in part, and the King of Falador asked him to train the new unit that would replace the one they lost during the battle, which Aron agreed to. However, no amount of training could get rid of the nightmares that Aron continued to have…

    “The forces of Lord Drakan are gathering. We are being called up to defend the outpost on the River Salve, while elements of the 1st and 4th are going to spread themselves along the river to the north and south of our position. The Lumbridge 1st Guard is also being called up, to serve as our auxiliaries. Any questions?” Captain Aneiad finished the order, looked at his men. They were tired, and many were barely standing. One, however, was fully alert. His sergeant was doing a great job, probably pushed himself too hard to get these men into shape, but he was a great soldier. He had heard the stories about what had happened to the young man two years before, had forced himself not to ask. That was Aron’s own personal demons that he would have to deal with, with no one else intruding on him. He had recently married, a pretty girl named Isilla, and she would hopefully help him get through this…

    “Captain?” says Aron.

    “Yes sergeant?”

    “When do we go?”

    “In a couple of days. Get your personal affairs in order, this could be a messy business we are heading into. I have heard the stories about this Drakan character…don’t underestimate him or his forces. That is all.”

    Aron had also heard the rumors, didn’t really pay attention to them. This upcoming battle would be his redemption. He had been so ashamed of himself for not staying and fighting like the others so many months ago, for being the only one to survive. He promised himself that he will avenge them, avenge them all, especially his friend Nakash. He didn’t understand why he had been commended for his efforts by both kings, why they couldn’t understand that he should have been punished, not rewarded. He had refused the offer of becoming the new captain, so he was instead promoted to sergeant, so he could train the new regiment, the 10th Royal. He had appreciated it, but felt it wasn’t deserved. He was also the one charged by the King of Falador to train the replacement to the unit Falador had lost, as well as a new one, the new units recieving inferior armament just like the last, but he silenced his protests and trained them as well, three hundred men that would comprise the new 5th Light Infantry, as well as another three hundred that would become the new 2nd Light Infantry. Aron realized that the money of the city was reserved for the cream of the Kings soldiers, the White Knights, the king ignoring his regular soldiers needs for his elite group of two thousand knights. These thoughts were still fresh on his mind as he donned his new armor, a gift from the king of Varrock, a steel set consisting of a medium helmet, some chain mail, and a new shield. He strapped his red dagger to his side, a dagger he heard was one of the few of its kind, a strange type of metal. He took his sword, also steel, out of its sheath, checked it for rust, and resheathed it. He looked outside, saw the growing column of soldiers approaching his house, knew it was almost time to go. He took down his shield from his wall, looked at his wife who was standing in the doorway of their room. He embraced her, kissed her goodbye. “I promise I will come back” he said. “I know Aron. Take care of yourself, and your men.” He kissed her again, and started walking to the door. He stopped by a room, the smallest room in the house, and looked inside. His old armor was sitting there, still bloodstained, had refused to clean it. He also looked at the sword on the wall. He had gone back to get it, had fought off scavengers, and had finally found and took it. It was Nakash’s, and he looked at it, and at his old armor, his dads armor, and thought, yes, I will avenge them all…
    Last edited by TheDarkKnight; April 16, 2012 at 04:17 PM.
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    A good update, well done

    For me, now you've got the spacing just right on both this update and the first one

    Keep it up, and is his dagger by any chance a 'Dragon' one

    Looking forward to reading about him getting his revenge
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Oh nostalgia. I used to play runescape when I was younger. Man I'll have to follow this story closely
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Reading this makes me miss it
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Tale of Aron, Chapter Three
    Chapter Three Chapter 3
    The combined forces of the 10th, the 1st, and the 4th Royal Regiment marched from Varrock, a total of fifteen hundred men, and halfway to the outpost along the river, were joined by the 1st Guard from Lumbridge, a further two hundred soldiers. They marched for a couple more days, and finally, caught sight of the River Salve, and Morytania beyond. A march of a few more hours finally brought them to their objective. There, they found the few surviving soldiers, the last remnant of the 2nd Outpost Battalion, assigned to guard the entrance into Morytania. What had been 150 men had dwindled down to 20 men over a 2 month period, many of the missing ones now vampires or werewolves, serving the other side. The 1st Royal was deployed to the north to protect against a north crossing, and the 4th was deployed to the south. The 10th and the 1st Guard were placed in front of the outpost, right before the bridge that connected the two kingdoms. The surviving 20 men are sent home. The soldiers coat their swords and daggers in a thin film of silver, to help against the werewolves. The drums of war are sounding, the banners struck. A battle is about to begin, one that will test the limits of Aron and his comrades.

    They waited, listened. The faint drumming coming from across the river, from the dark forests of that dreaded land. Aron and his men stand by, waiting. Their captain was holding steadfast, listening, just like them. The archers had been deployed to the top of the hill behind them; their job to weaken the enemy as much as possible before they clashed with the iron and steel of the 10th Royal. The 1st Lumbridge Guard had been deployed in reserve, ready to plug any holes that may develop in the line. Everyone was listening to the drums now, the laughter stopping at the sound of all the sergeants barking orders to be quiet. For Aron, this battle would be for redemption, for the others, it would be their first. All the eyes were on Aron and on their Captain. The drums start to get louder, and the enemy army is finally seen…

    “Listen men, if you are bitten, you know what you must do. We are already outmatched, do not make the mistake of aiding them even more by becoming one of them.” Aneiad said, his voice trembling slightly as he gave the frightful order. The men look at him with questioning stares, the realization slowly dawning on their faces. Every man prays, every man looks at the enemy, and everyman prepares. Aron looks at his men, one in particular, couldn’t remember his name. The boy was shaking, a scared look on his face. He put his hand on the boys shoulder, and he relaxed. He looked at the rapidly advancing army, barely 200 yards away. He hears a distant command, and the twang of so many arrows erupts behind him, showering down on the enemy. Aron sees the ranks falter, and they fall back, only to break into a full charge moments afterward. The archers shoot as fast as they can, some arrows falling into the river, wildly overshot. A command is yelled out, from the leader of the regiment: “Spears in front!” The few dozen spearmen point their spears in front, a bristling wall of metal, waiting for the enemy to be skewered on the shafts. It is then that Aron finally gets a good look at the enemy. There are men of course, but the majority were werewolves and vampires. The werewolves come in a variety of different shades, from white to black, but most being brown. The vampires were sporting pale skin and overly large canine teeth. The archers stop, the enemy being too close, and finally, the two armies clash…

    The enemy breaks through the line of spears, and engages the 10th at close range. Aron slays his first werewolf, a monster of a beast, and sees its blood red eyes close, wonders who it was before becoming a werewolf. He pushes this thought aside; no pity, no mercy. He takes a stab at another, a giant white one, and he stares into its cold eyes as it dies. He keeps going, slaying werewolves and humans as well, humans who look just as scared as his comrades do, and Aron wonders how they can serve along with the Vampires and Werewolves. He finally encounters a vampire, and just as he brings his blade to bear, the vampire flees, flying to a great height. Aron quickly finds another target, but not before realizing who it was; the young man he had seen trembling before. He had been bitten, and had not had the willpower to do what was necessary before he transformed into a partial werewolve. He wasn't a full one yet, but he would be soon, so Aron, regrettably, did the boy a favor. His blade tasted the blood of the young man as the kid fell, and Aron looked into his dead eyes, a quiet apology, before moving on.

    The 10th was being pushed back, the reserve force not arriving quick enough, but Aron continues his spree, slashing and stabbing at any of the enemy before him. He claims his twentieth kill before he is knocked down, his sword falling out of his hands, his helmet falling off. He is picked up by a giant of a werewolf, wearing armor, probably their version of a captain, and Aron, realizing that all hope is not lost, reaches down for his red dagger, now slightly silver from the dipping, and stabs the werewolf through the neck. He drops Aron, howling and writhing in pain, before Aron finishes the job. The unit is being pushed back even faster, the 1st Guard having been taken over by cowardice and refusing to move on. Aron picks up his bloodied steel again, and is fighting like a lion, killing as many as he can, hoping to inspire the rest of the men, to no avail. His own personal squad has been wiped out, killed or converted, and the rest are retreating. Aron fights on, not losing hope. He gets his thirty-fifth kill before going down, knocked out by a blow. He blacks out, his last thoughts on his wife and whether this was the end...
    --------
    Aron wakes up in a tent, surrounded by strange, blurred faces. A nurse walks over.

    "Good, you are awake"

    "Wh...What happened?", Aron asks as the world slowly came back into focus.

    "You blacked out, and you were just about to be bitten when the 1st and 4th Royal finally arrived as reinforcements, and the arrival of so many reinforcements disheartened the enemy. They retreated and were pursued as far as they could be. The reinforcements found you, unconscious but still breathing. They brought you here. I will go find your captain."

    Aron took a minute to digest her words, while she went to get his captain. He is alive! After all that, he survived. And his captain! What happened to him he wondered. Just at that thought, his captain walked in.

    "How are you feeling kid?" he asks

    "I have felt better. What happened to you sir?"

    "I was fighting just a few yards away from you, when some of my men decided to drag me away in order to save me. I was yelling at them to go help you, but they wouldn't listen. I hope you forgive me for leaving me behind.

    "It's ok sir, it probably saved your life. How were our losses?"

    "Not good. The 1st Guard took about fifty casualties, all dead, out of 120 men. The 4th and the 1st Royal took less than twenty each" the captain paused, then said "The 10th fought valiantly, but we took heavy casualties. Out of five hundred and twenty men, only about one hundred survived, most with wounds. I will be putting your name forward. Hopefully, soon, you will be a lieutenant."

    Aron closed his eyes, too much information for his weary head, then said "Sir, where exactly are we?"

    "On the hill behind the bridge. The 1st Royal has taken over our duty of protecting the bridge, while elements of the 4th have been sent to look for the cowards of the 1st Lumbridge Guard. A report will be filed, of course, and sent to the duke, but I doubt anything will happen. The 4th was on cleanup duty for a while. They found a lot of dead bodies around where you were, your work, I expect?

    Aron could not help but manage a weak smile. He had certainly fought well.

    "We are actually heading back today. You will get to see your pretty wife soon enough, I expect."

    Aron got up, feeling his strength returning. "Sir, I had been waiting for a battle like this for months, and I finally had it. I feel accomplished, and I feel like I could retire now, if I wanted to."

    "There is no way I am letting you retire, Sergeant. You are too valuable, and we will need you to help train the replacements for this unit. I am giving you my personal horse to ride back to Varrock, and I will hear no complaints, you earned it. Now come on out, I'll saddle you up, so we can get you going."
    Last edited by TheDarkKnight; April 16, 2012 at 07:44 PM.
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Glad to hear he's got his revenge

    Although Lumbridge Guards wouldn't flee
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Quote Originally Posted by Shankbot12 View Post
    Glad to hear he's got his revenge

    Although Lumbridge Guards wouldn't flee
    Oh no, his revenge doesn't truly come until later...

    And I chose the Lumbridge guards to be the cowards because all they are really used to facing is goblins, if you remember from the game. They are really just militia while the army from Varrock is a semi-professional force.
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Quote Originally Posted by Gen. Chris View Post
    Oh no, his revenge doesn't truly come until later...
    I can't wait!
    Quote Originally Posted by Gen. Chris View Post
    And I chose the Lumbridge guards to be the cowards because all they are really used to facing is goblins, if you remember from the game. They are really just militia while the army from Varrock is a semi-professional force.
    Fair enough The hours I spent killing those Goblins...
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    I will probably update with chapter four later. I believe its one that will need heavy revisions, so...Maybe..
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    TheDarkKnight's Avatar Compliance will be rewarded
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Hey sorry guys, I'll try to have chapter four and perhaps five and six up this weekend. I've been hit with some pretty heavy work so I haven't had the time to take a look at them and edit them. Just know that they are done, they just need another look at before I feel like they are good enough to post here.
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    Shankbot de Bodemloze's Avatar From the Writers Study!
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Nothing wrong with a delay for proof-reading
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Sorry it took so long guys. I ended up adding some stuff as well as moving stuff to the next chapter. I'll try to get chapter five up by this weekend.

    The Tale of Aron, Chapter Four
    Chapter Four Aron rode the horse, while the rest of the 10th marched back to Varrock. It was a two day journey, which gave Aron plenty of time to think about the battle. His thoughts often turned to the boy he was forced to kill, to prevent him from becoming a monster. He didn’t even know the name of him. When he got back, he was promoted to a Lieutenant and given his own platoon. He requested a leave of absence, and the generous king granted it. He settled down with his wife, and had a son, whom he named Nakash, after his friend.

    But Aron was restless. He could not sit idly for very long. He visited the blacksmith, and put in an order for two new swords, ones of a shorter variety. He receives his new weapons with great surprise, discovering that they are made of a strange metal. The metal is a dark blue, a color Aron was pleased with. He visited the blacksmith to inquire about it. The blacksmith informed Aron that when the King had heard about Aron’s interest in dual swords, the blacksmith was given the blue metal, called mithril, to make them. He also found out that the blacksmith was at work on a set of armor made of the same metal that would be Aron’s, another gift from the King.

    Aron was pleased with this, and began training himself to know how to dual wield with proficiency. He visited the master-at-arms, and everyday Aron trained with wooden swords, learning how to strike and block with the unfamiliar technique. Though at first he failed miserably to the grizzled master-at-arms experience, several weeks of practice and a sharp learning curve soon led to him to be able to best the swordsman with ease, much to his surprise.

    In addition to his duties of rebuilding the units that had participated in the battle, Aron also participated in the yearly training of the militias and levies. Though Varrock had a fairly large professional military, it also possessed many thousands of men who did not always march off to war under the banners of the king. Men from all over Misthalin came, including the military of Lumbridge, to the yearly training. Over the week the armories of Varrock were drained of their second-rate weapons and armor, while the men of the militias brought their own equipment.

    Aron could not stand the sight of the equipment the levies would be expected to fight with. Consisting of rusted iron and poor wood, the equipment simply didn’t compare to the armor Aron or his men possessed. Aron looked ridiculous in his new dark blue armor, which he had received the first day of the training, while the levies trained with iron tipped spears and poorly made shields. The militia as well as the so called soldiers of Lumbridge fared better, with better made and maintained shield and spears as well as a scattering of helmets. Aron made up for the inadequacies of the equipment by training the men well. He also took this opportunity to try his hand at archery, training with the men not as an officer, but as one of them. He discovered he was actually a fair bowman, his aim better than most with a short bow.

    At the end of the week, the men went back home to their farms and homes. They were not soldiers, Aron thought, but if they were ever called for battle, they would at least stand a chance with the training Aron gave them. Standing on top of the wall and watching the last of the men return home, Aron could only smile. He made a visit to the King before heading home, the King listening as Aron recommended that the armories be stocked with better equipment. The King took this under advisement, especially with the recommendations of Aneiad. Aron left the presence of the king, unsure if the King would truly listen, but satisfied nonetheless.

    Aron has a month left of leave, and is still restless. He visits the master-at-arms again:
    “Aron, my friend. You don’t need any more training. However, I recommend you visit our own master bowmen. I was watching as you tried your hand with a bow. You have skill, and it would not hurt to be well versed in both swordplay and archery.”

    Over the weeks, his skills improve under the tutorship of the master bowmen. Though he never approaches the skill of the master, Aron’s aim becomes as deadly as any other. He also uses this time to craft his own bow, studying and practicing under the men who craft the bows and arrows for the kingdom. He soon crafts a beautiful yew longbow. On his last day, he presents it to the master bowmen, who declares it flawless, and gives him a quiver of finely made arrows. Aron thanks him, and departs heading home. As he heads home, Aron notes the irony that he had spent his leave of the military improving himself in battle. He lamented the lost time with his family.

    His wife, Isilla, is waiting for him. She holds a message with the King’s seal on it.

    "What is it?'' Aron asks.

    "I don't know''

    Aron opens it, reads it. His heart drops. Aron looks at his wife, says. ''I'm being called away again.''
    '' To where must you go?'' inquires Isilla.

    ''South, to Al Kharid. There is apparently an uprising in the south. Bedabin Raiders are threatening to come up through the pass and raid Al Kharid."

    Aron stared out the window.

    "I have to go Isilla"

    Aron went and got his old armor and his new swords. He thought about the armor the king had made for him, and decided to leave it. The Bedabin are theives, and if he falls, they will take his armor. He would rather have them take his old set than his new one. He strapped his red dagger to his side, and walked towards the door.

    Isilla was waiting with baby Nakash, so Aron could say his farewells to him. Aron leaned in and kissed his forehead, and then Isilla.

    "Good bye Isilla and Nakash, I love you both. I will return" he said, not knowing if he really would. He kisses his wife again, and regretfully leaves. He regrets spending so much of his time training.
    He walked back to the castle, having only been there shortly before. It was dusk, and though he probably could have waited until the next day before leaving, he didn’t know if he could have waited with all the guilt he felt about having to leave again.

    Upon passing the gates into the grounds of the massive castle, he made his way to the stables. Aneiad had allowed him to keep the horse that had carried him from the battle in Morytania so many months before. He saddled up and rode out. He took the main road to the southern gate, passing through it as the guards of the gate nodded at him. They knew who he was.

    As Aron passed through the gate into the fields beyond, the sun dipped below the western horizon. Aron thought about all he had done, and wondered what the future had in store for him…
    Last edited by TheDarkKnight; May 04, 2012 at 01:35 PM.
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Oh Varrock and Falador and Camelot! I remember thee!

  17. #17
    Shankbot de Bodemloze's Avatar From the Writers Study!
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Great update

    Aron and his 'mithril' armour Although that is shocking , only he should have rune

    One thing...
    Another group of people that Aron
    that Aron?

    Keep up the good work, and I'll look forward to Aron's new challenge

    +rep
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Quote Originally Posted by Shankbot12 View Post
    Great update

    Aron and his 'mithril' armour Although that is shocking , only he should have rune

    One thing...

    that Aron?

    Keep up the good work, and I'll look forward to Aron's new challenge

    +rep
    Whoops! That was the first sentence of a deleted section that I had forgotten to take out. My bad.

    In any case, if I remember correctly from my story he gets rune eventually. Just not armor.

    Or does he...?

    He, he's already distinguished enough: he is a lieutenant, has armor and weapons that very few others have, etc...Lol. He doesn't need to be any more distinguished...for now.
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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Pah! He's a commoner with only Level 20 defence

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    Default Re: The Tale of Aron

    Quote Originally Posted by Shankbot12 View Post
    Pah! He's a commoner with only Level 20 defence


    Levels don't matter in this story .

    I actually made it more along the lines of the rarity of the metal. Hence why most men only have steel or iron, even though mithril is fairly common.

    And unlike the game, you can wield spears one handed without having to get the special "hastae" spear...Lol
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