The Dangers of Wilderness FishingI was steadfast in my fishing expedition. I threw my harpoon into the water, skewering the mighty, nay legendary, swordfish. The fishing was great and the fish were absolute monsters in the free waters of the wild. A few times a monster swordfish almost jerked the harpoon from me! As I got out my cooking supplies, my logs and tinderbox, I saw something on the horizon. It looked like a white dot from my spot. I ignored it as Serpentis contacted me. I listened to him as I cooked the fish and winced as I burnt a group of them in my ignorace of the cooking ways. I looked in the direction of the white dot and saw that it wasn't a dot anymore. I just stood there letting my fire get low, the fish on the cooking spit forgotten. On top of the incline was a warrior in full iron. Right then I almost smacked myself for leaving my runite armor and weapons in the safety of the bank. He took one look at me and stepped backwards, as if he were afraid. I noticed it at last. By the way he held his sword, I could tell he was inexperienced. With that knowledge I stoked my fire and again began to cook the swordfish. As I turned my back, he charged swiping with his scimitar. As it hit me I sighed. It had not even broken the skin. I punched the would-be pker as he ran away. Every hit I inflicted on him greatly reduced his health.
I chased my prey southward along the dark, barren, grey coast. He pitifully whined things about mercy and forgiveness. I paid him no heed for it was too much fun fighting against the aggressor for the chance of a penalty free kill!
As we reached a lower level of the wilderness I had a strange compulsion to let him live. With my pity so grew my compassion. I invited the man (he called himself Sloth for whatever reason) to a fine meal of swordfish at the fishing spot. He gladly agreed and followed me, though seeing me cook the fish must have slipped his mind.
I lured my prey upwards and into the small peninsula. I thought to myself "This will be so easy. How could I lose?" as I trotted through the bone-strewn landscape. When we got there I set up another fire and picked up my previously discarded swordfish. I told him this would take a little while so he waited. I was a fool. I should have watched the horizon... I was praying to Saradomin, gaining the mystical strength of Saradomin himself, instead of fishing. The pker was easily tricked. As I finished praying, Sloth yelled in terror! A mighty pker swooped down as it seemed from the heavens. The masterful pker dealt awesome blows, and Sloth pleaded for me to save him. I watched the pker kill the weaker one with his mighty rune two hander. The pker glanced my way, then at the ground. I thought of him as a idiot. Could he not see the dead mutilated body with riches pouring out of its pack? I ran up to the pker, yelled thanks, and reached for the mithril scimitar gleaming with its dead owners blood. I wore it as my own, and then plundered the armor. I glanced up at the rune pker. He was mystified. I laughed at him. Was he that stupid? Could he not see I was equipping myself against him? Before I attacked, I contacted Agent Orange with the weird telepathy all runescapers have. "Do you know any Mexicans called Antonio?" Orange replied with a harty "LOL." I swiped at the pker with the mithril scimitar, leaving a dent in the warrior's expensive armor. A giant, red 9 appeared on his chest, and it seemed to me that this trip was going to be worthwhile. He was so close to dying, so close... The warrior began to sprint away at top speed. I wished to follow him, but I was tired from running down my last victim. I slowly walked to my fish and cooking supplies, packed up, and headed southward towards Varrock. As I walked, I spoke, in almost a whisper: "The 28th is going to be great." |