The story of a boy who was told he was something more than the rest. that he would went the triangle war and create peace in Runescape. the only thing he wasn’t told was that it was going to be easy.
“Duck!” the harsh command was heard just in time as 4 flaming arrows flew over young Tom’s head. One hit his Dragon Helmet and as Tom attempted to pull it out his hand was scorched. The burn cut a deep slash into Tom’s hand and he used a torn piece of glove to wrap around it. Tom was caught in the Triangle War. I was started in Tom’s grandfather’s time for dominance. Three teams. Archers, Mages, and Warriors. Archers fought with the bow and arrow causing striking sniping with pinpoint accuracy.
The mages used staffs. Powerful elemental sticks that gave you the full power of an element. From the elements they were able to cast blows that could strike you dead with one hit. Finally there were the Warriors, they fought with the blade. They had the least amount of advantage but they had numbers and were still strong. The whole world of Runescape was a mix of blood and tears. Nobody could have seen this event. Tom reeled back, another 3 arrows came at him. He ducked behind the Grand Exchange wall. He was alone and it was dark. He was on his way home to the safe haven when he was ambushed. He was walking home with his best mate Mark. He had seen the archer and gave his life for Tom. He had to get him back.
Tom lunged out of the dark and saw the shadow of the figure standing he whipped out his Torag Hammers, and nailed the archer in the head with both of them. The archer went down as Tom grabbed at his standard edition Dragon Dagger. He pulled back out shoved the dagger into the man’s throat. A pool of blood surrounded the man, as Tom walked into the night. The moon and stars as his guidance. Tom got to the haven and silently crept u to his room. They lived in what used to be Varrock Palace, but had been camouflaged from anyone other the men with the sight. Only some special men had the site, and Tom was one of them. He looked back at his childhood. He remembered the look on his father’s face. He was shot by an archer and was killed in our front yard.
Ever since Tom had been a follower of the wicked one, Zamorak. And he swore revenge on everyone. His mother had died after giving birth to him, so he was adopted by the mages of Zamorak. They talk him to hate, love no one but his brothers and kill everyone who wasn’t. Everyone said that Tom was special he learned faster then the other 16 year olds, and everyone called him the legend. They all talked about a prophecy, but Tom wasn’t told anything ever. Even as a young child people treated him like he was the oldest one there. They respected him. Tom began to think about his childhood, he laid onto the pillow after storing his armor backed onto his shelf. The dark sky outside danced as the comets flew overhead. Everything was peaceful until the crash. His window shattered as a mage levitated above it. His eyes were blood red filled with hate, as he pulled up his ancients staff and shot a blast at Tom. He caught a glimpse of the person, and gasped.
To Be Continued…….
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