Greenborne- Scourge of All Lands
A young girl twisted around a map, trying to figure out which way it was suppose to face. Confused by its orientation, she tapped a nearby man on the shoulder. The cloaked individual turned about, letting her words fall upon deaf ears. None of her pleas or questions were heard, for he was only sizing her up for value and ease of slay. Drawing back his hood, the masked man smiled vilely as he pulled out his rapier. With a shriek and bolt, the chase was on. The highway robber was unfortunately very skilled at his task and gained upon the innocent one quickly. As his hand reached out to snag the red cape that trailed behind her, he became choked on his own collar.
"Now, now, now," a grim voice croaked from behind him, "play nice." Facing his harasser, the rogue found his own cloak within someone's clutches, someone's purple, four fingered clutches. His eyes traveled up the green sleeve and became trapped at the god star adorning the assailants's chest. This was as far as the thief's examination proceeded as, with a single swing of his arm, the defender brought up and down an oversized war hammer with the villain's head in its path. With no life left in it, the body of the robber withered away to bones and a few measly belongings he had left to this world. Expecting thanks for the rescue, Bimblesnaff looked up to find the victim no where in sight. He had done a good deed for a lady, however, and that was reward enough. If only there was some way he could deal with the real scourge of all lands: the roaming jackass.
"Ugh, 'Snaff, can you read me?" The message resounded in Greenborne's mind. Recognizing the voice, he tapped the crystal set on his ring and solidified the mental bond betwixt them.
"What's the matter, Z'lupe?" he psychically relayed her. "Someone need to die?" There was a pause for curious thought.
"No, probably not," she rationed, "but it might come to that. If you could, would it be possible to stop by the fountain in Varrock Square for a bit?"
"'Tis an odd request," replied the fiend, "but I guess I could stop by."
"Great," she sinisterly squealed. "Oh, and bring your armor."
"The rune armor? Agh," the lunatic gagged, "but that junk weighs a ton. I can barely move in it. I only really got it to look bad ass."
"Exactly," agreed Z'lupe, "so be there soon." His tap into her thoughts was severed, and soon the only voices in his head were the several normally there.
With a sigh, the maniac in green wisked himself away to the city of Varrock. Stopping off at the bank, he donned his most invulnerable suit of mail, crown to sole, and waddled off to the fountain. Fighting through the dense crowd was a feat given that he could only really walk in a straight line, and that was difficult enough. Ignoring the several beggars who had time to squander but not work, the offered barters which suggested his great treasure was worth their stash of flimsy bronze armors, and even one plea to be someone's boyfriend, a proposition he was initially interested with until he realized it was not extended by a woman, Bimblesnaff proceeded to the center piece of the square and leaned against the fountain's base to create the illusion that he was standing. Posed like a statue, he examined the crowd for his requester.
"Act like you don't see me." The words cut through the commotion of the bustling area. Sweeping his gaze through his narrow slits in his visor, he spotted Z'lupe and, to his ire, someone else: a male. As the two drew closer, Greenborne focused in on their discussion.
"Come on, baby, let me be your man," squeaked the novice who walked with Kelly. Unkempt, blue hair stuck out from all angles on his head as though to mimic some sought fashion and fail at it. His dull iron breastplate showed about as much skill in its crafting as he possessed. The most expensive looking piece of equipment he carried was a meager, black scimitar, which sadly contained the bulk of his net worth. "I am the perfect guy for you."
"Okay, hun," coyly giggled his querry in a false voice, "but, first, you'd have to beat my current boyfriend."
"That's it? Bring him on," boldly declared the lad, holding his curved blade up high, ready to take on the world.
"I'm so glad you said that," she squealed with glee before dropping the artificial tone, "because he's standing right here." Pointing to Bimblesnaff with her thumb, the novice's neck craned slowly to behold, what to him, was a force of death. Recognizing a cue if any, the lunatic rose up a single arm halfway to greet him with a warm wave delivered coldly as he slung his enormous war hammer up on his other shoulder. The youth did not know what to do and could not think of anything. It showed for he actually did not do anything. He merely stood frozen, fear struck and dumbfounded.
"So, doll, wanna get outta here?" slyly suggested the armored fright.
"Let's." Wrapping her arm around his, the two left the town square. After a while of laughing at their stunt, she cast an eye back. "Yeah, he's still standing there. I think you can drop it now."
"Oh, thank the Silver Star," lauded the disaster, his armor falling from his body as he collapsed to his knees. After catching his breath and wiping off the sweat from his soaked head, he recomposed himself dignantly and started collecting the bits and pieces from the ground. "So," he started to ask with a crooked smile, "does this mean I'm yer boyfriend?" She gave off an annoyed grunt.
"You wish," mocked the girl before walking away.
"Yes," pathetically agreed Bimblesnaff as he chased after her with burden filled arms. "Yes, I do."
