Romance in the Runes

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YuBiusk Ink

YuBiusk Ink

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“No, all I'm saying is, it's not really a skill when all you have to do is stuff dough into the oven until you're an 'expert'.” Ali 'Al' the Witch rolled her eyes, gesturing to the wheat field they were passing by for emphasis. "Like, okay, say I grab a billion handfuls of wheat and just grind it all into flour and bake it. That doesn't make me a master chef, it makes me patient."

"And a thief," Dimka said. "That's not your wheat, Al."

"Well, the theory of the commons—"

"No." Al glanced at her companion irritably. Dimka, a white-robed wizard with hair done up in intricate blonde braids, clearly wasn't going to play ball today. The blue tattoos lining her cheeks had a metallic glint in the twilight.

"Come on, moonomancer." Al jabbed Dimka with her magic staff. The bronze-skinned witch's dark eyebrows furrowed over dark, glittering eyes. "Work with me here. I'm making an argument."

"Sure!" Dimka shrugged. "But cooking isn't just a lot of goofing around and stealing wheat. First off, you forgot the part where you also need water pails in that little narrative."

Al made a sound like water being splashed on a campfire.

"Plus, it's not just bread!" Dimka shook her head eagerly. "Speaking as a 'moonomancer', cooking is work, Al. Slaving over a hot stove, preparing ingredients..."

Al made the sound again.

"What, you don't think it's hard?"

Al gave a wide shrug, her long burgundy sleeves slipping down over her hands. "It's not as hard as our job, I know that much." She tapped the glimmering tiara on her head and smirked. "Now, runecrafting, that's real. Actual risk in that."


"See, I'm an adventuress," Al said grandly, twirling her staff like a baton. "I crave a bit of excitement, of risk, of mortal p—"


Al froze stiff as a board. Slowly, her eyes drifted down between her feet. "What. What is that."

Dimka stooped, eying the arrow thoughtfully. “It's an arrow,” she declared.

“I can't believe I'm the one the Guild kicked out.”

16-Jun-2018 22:18:58 - Last edited on 16-Jun-2018 23:42:01 by YuBiusk Ink

YuBiusk Ink

YuBiusk Ink

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Hi, and welcome to "Romance in the Runes", a love story and adventure about a pair of runecrafters fresh off of scandal at the Grand Exchange who find themselves pursued by a ragtag band of knights and bandits.

There will be sappy romance.
There will be needless violence.
There will be corny misunderstandings.
There will be
communist goblins.

As a note: This story is set in the Fifth Age. The Godwars have not yet resumed. Zaros is still missing. Guthix still sleeps. The Mahjarrat have not killed one of their own in centuries, and are, in fact, quite irrelevant to this story.

16-Jun-2018 22:27:15 - Last edited on 16-Jun-2018 23:34:39 by YuBiusk Ink

YuBiusk Ink

YuBiusk Ink

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Q: You seem to reference stuff from both OSRS and RS3. Which version is canon?

A: Both! This is a mixed lore. In my Runescape, Kourend and the Fountain of Rune may be seen to coexist peaceably with summoners and Daemonheim. Essentially, assume that we're dealing with Old School Runescape, but up to around the addition of While Guthix Sleeps and Dungeoneering. Other lore, like Ritual of the Mahjarrat, can be safely ignored in favor of OSRS's interpretations.

Q: What is "freecasting"?

A: We got this question a lot in the offices—my desk is piled high with letters! It will be explained in more detail within the story, but for the time being, freecasting is a form of magical experimentation which seeks to employ existing runes in new ways. It's pretty risky if you don't know what you're doing, which is why, by the way, mages don't try to teleport to places like Draynor. Essentially, sometimes Al chooses to cast from the Ali Spellbook. ;)

16-Jun-2018 22:27:40 - Last edited on 27-Jul-2018 03:53:50 by YuBiusk Ink

YuBiusk Ink

YuBiusk Ink

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The pair spun around, and Ali grimaced as she saw about a dozen blue-clad figures riding towards them on horseback. “Saradominists,” she muttered.

"No kidding!" Dimka stared off into the distance, one hand on her hip. "They just don't give up, do they?"

"It's kind of their one admirable quality." Al's hands shot down to the pockets at the waist of her colorful robes. "Crap, where did I put the mist runes?"

"They're lining up another shot," Dimka said nervously, and Al glanced up to see that, indeed, two of the riders were raising bows. They were still a hundred yards off, though. Still a ways. "We should run. We should run!"

"One moment," Al muttered, fingers fumbling with the little stones. "Flick it, break it, melt it, shape it..."

"Are you freecasting again?" She heard Dimka's voice breaking in growing panic. "Guthix between, witch, we need to—"

Al twirled the runes in her fingers, her mind racing as she felt the stones starting to dissolve into pure magic. The familiar tingling was beginning at the back of her head. "Bitter smoke, merry mist, golden cosmos above..."


"Ha!" Al flung the four runes into the air—one smoke, two mist, and one cosmic—and clapped her hands twice. The runes melted away, and magical energy exploded into the air, exploded in clouds, smoke and smog, spiraling into airy maelstroms of mist and light.

She heard the archers loose their arrows, but it was all lost as the storm broke. Rain poured down in a thick mist, instantly drenching Al's colorful infinity hat. The riders were obscured as winds whirled and thunder rolled. Rainbows shone throughout the mist, creating a stunning whorl of color.

Al grinned and turned to run, but realized Dimka wasn't following. She turned. To her amazement, the lunar mage was just... staring.

“Wow,” Dimka breathed, as the misty rains poured down and drenched her braids.

“What are you waiting for?” Ali snarled, grabbing Dimka by the hand. “Run!”

16-Jun-2018 22:47:59 - Last edited on 16-Jun-2018 23:43:48 by YuBiusk Ink

YuBiusk Ink

YuBiusk Ink

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Meanwhile, some ways down south in the middle of East Lumbridge, seven commoners sat upon an old wooden fence.

“They're running late,” remarked one, chewing on a piece of straw. “Maybe them all decided not to come by.”

"They'll be here, I reckon, Nev." The speaker sat upon the northernmost fencepost. He was tall and stoutly-built, his skin a sepia, reddish-brown. A straw hat shaded his hazel eyes from the sun.

Marim o'Lum's mithril crossbow rested easy in his lap, almost casually, like he'd forgotten it was there. The way his fingers caressed its fine engravings of Zamorakian flames suggested otherwise. "That Zarosian's comin' by. Ain't no other way to Asgarnia short o' swimmin' the Lum, ain't that right, now, Hugh?" He glanced over.

"I dunno..." Hugh whistled through their teeth. The brown-skinned druid was chewing on one of their weird little gold charms. Marim couldn't imagine how they were coping in the heat in those red Chaos Druid robes, especially with their hood up. "They say she's got a Lunar Mage workin' with her. Could be trouble. You never know with them, uh, foreign mages."

"Yer a foreign mage, Hugh."

Hugh's eyes glinted, and they opened their mouth to reply—then froze as a crack of thunder rang out. In unison, the seven farmers turned to the north.

“Aw, blessed Zamorak,” exclaimed Marim, hefting his crossbow, “I look away for twin seconds—" He hopped down from the fence, and his fellow faithful followed suit. He clicked the crossbow's quarrel into place and slung it over his shoulder. "Hugh, I hearin' things, or is them horses in that fog?"

There came a distant, "Face His holy judgment, witch!" This was followed by several Saradominist curses.

A grin spread across Marim's face. "Well, bless my coal. It's a target-rich environment, y'all! Hugh?"

Hugh gave a relaxed smile, drawing out a pulsing silk pouch. "I ain't no foreign mage, Marim." They spat out the charm and pocketed it. "'Cause, uh, these ain't no runes, are they?"

18-Jun-2018 00:36:43 - Last edited on 18-Jun-2018 00:42:39 by YuBiusk Ink

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