Stories and Poems

In this most excellent issue of Sal's Paper, we have some great stories set up for you. First up, we have a new writer, Emanick1 with his story The Civil War, which I'm sure you'll enjoy. After that, the mystical Adam? brings us part two of his hit series, Seclusion. After that, we have three more chapters from Me, My Friends, in I, brought to you by the very handsome Goliath Gob. Last and certianly not least, Jamster shows us just what he can do with a pen and pencil in Courage, Part the First.

Slowly running out of ideas,

Goliath Gob

The Civil War - By: Emanick1 “All right! Up and at ‘em, boys! Time for another charge at ‘em!”
I awoke with a start, shaking away the vivid images of hot buttered bread and tea back in my kitchen at home. “Coming, George,” I moaned, rolling out of my tattered bedroll.
The year was 1863, and my fellow soldiers and I were just waking up for the third day of a battle at a city known as Gettysburg . So far, it had been terrible. I had seen several of my friends die already, right before my eyes, when a bullet shot across the battlefield and hit them in the chest. I myself had been cut by a sword when a Confederate soldier took offence to my theft of his horse, for some reason, and the doctors had barely managed to staunch the bleeding.
After a hurried breakfast of stale biscuits and dried sausages, the sun was close to rising, and a few gunshots had already begun to resound from the other side of the field. Cursing, I grabbed my gun and hustled into the squad formation, led by the sergeant, who was also my older brother George.
“Reckon we'll finish them Confederate scum today, Tom?” asked a fellow private, as we neared the battle lines.
“Be quiet!” hissed George. “Look up there!”
My spine froze. An odd bird-like contraption, at least fifteen feet long, was diving towards the battlefield. It was khaki-colored, and held two men, one of whom was barely three feet tall. The other one was dressed in a blood-red outfit, which seemed like it was made purely out of metal.
“It's a trick!” yelled George. “FIRE, men!”
The air was suddenly thick with flying bullets, all aimed at the contraption. The little man toppled from the khaki object, but the man in red simply laughed as I stared in astonishment.
“LOL, range noobs!” cackled the man as the contraption crashed right in the middle of the battlefield. He leaped out, apparently unharmed. “You can't hit full dragon with those nooby range levels! Especially not when I'm maxed out! Say hello to Mod Andrew, fellas!”
I glanced at George. Like me, he hadn't understood a word the man in red said.
Bullets were flying freely at Mod Andrew now, but he didn't seem to care. Laughing scornfully, his voice boomed out again.
“This PvP area is incredibly unbalanced. I shall have to deal with it presently. But first, I'm rather hungry. Does anyone have some lobbys for me?” When nobody answered, he called out: “General! Fetch me five lobbys!”
Looking around in glee, I saw that Stanley McKinnon had managed to get the artillerymen to get a cannon ready. I watched in horrible suspense as the red-clothed man continued to yell for five “lobbys,” whatever they were. If he was just distracted for five more seconds…
“If you noobs do not fetch me five lobbys immediately, I shall be forced to bring in the Void Knights!” roared the man who called himself Mod Andrew.
Bang! Stanley had just fired the cannon, and a twenty-four-pounder flew out of it, straight into Mod Andrew. To everyone's surprise, however, it did not kill him.
“HEY!” the red man yelled angrily. “You noobs just hit a 4 on me! You know what, I'll just nerf range here. It's obviously way overpowered.” He waved a dark-gloved hand, and instantly all the cannons on both sides of the field disappeared.
“NOOOO!” I cried. Many of my comrades issued similar cries of despair. The only weapons that could hurt Mod Andrew had just been destroyed, and now we had no defence against this monster.
“I'm going to shake up you noobs!” growled Mod Andrew, now prowling through our ranks. “The combat triangle is totally screwed up here! Not only does range completely pwn melee, there's no mage at all! I intend to change that!
“Lumby tutors!” he said gruffly. A few people dressed in blue appeared in front of him, looking scared.
“There are thousands of noobs here, and none of them have any runes. I want you to pass out enough runes for them to get to level 15 magic, and give them all full bronze armor! Also, make sure their guns are worthless against that bronze metal, but make Strike spells blast right through it!” Grumbling, the “tutors” set off through our army, passing out gray lumps of stone with various designs on them.
“What the heck is going on here?” I asked George. He shrugged.
“No idea,” he said. “Just pretend to follow along and shoot him in the back the moment he takes that armor off.”
I nodded my agreement, and then watched as a blue-clothed tutor reached our squad. Unsmiling, she passed me a pile of those decorated stone lumps, and then moved on. The instant I took them, I felt a heavy weight all over myself. Yelping in surprise, I stumbled backwards, then toppled over. I struggled to pull myself to my feet, but couldn't do it.
“Aaagh!” I yelled. “Get this off me!”
A soldier named Ernest, who was nearest, helped me get up, but in the meantime I'd dropped my runes. As I bent to pick them up, I toppled over, and this time George picked me up.
To my squad's alarm, a gigantic purple bubble appeared next to us, and then burst. Mod Andrew appeared from where it had been. “Congratulations,” he said gravely. “Helping other players is always appreciated by Jagex staff.” He waved his hand, and a large silver crown appeared on George's head, making him stagger.
“You are now a Player Mod,” said Mod Andrew, who was grinning once again. “Use your power wisely!”
“But I helped up a soldier too!” protested Ernest. “So I'm a Player Mod, whatever that is, too, right?”
“Banned for breaking Rule 5!” bellowed Mod Andrew. Instantly, Ernest vanished.
“What did you do with him?!” I yelled angrily.
“For obvious reasons, details regarding bans are not given out to random passer by, or anybody would know how to evade them,” said Mod Andrew smugly. “Cheerio!” A purple bubble appeared over him and burst once more, leaving no one in his place.
“What's this doing on my head?” asked George, puzzled. He tried to pull the crown off, but it stuck to his hair like glue. “Ah well. At least I get extra power.”
“George, you surely aren't going to trust that monster?” I said, astonished. “He killed Ernest!”
“Ernest will return soon,” said George confidently. “Anybody smart enough to give me power wouldn't kill an innocent soldier.”
“George, are you sure you're feeling all right?” I said.
“That's MISTER George Henry Smith to you!” he bellowed. “Now get to work training your defence level! Bronze is for noobs!”
I began to run. Obviously, Mod Andrew had corrupted my brother's brain. It wasn't safe to be near him anymore — what if he killed me like Mod Andrew had killed Ernest?
I chanced a glance at the Confederate army. They hadn't begun fighting yet, even though the sunrise was about to begin, no doubt due to the presence of that evil man in our ranks. I spotted several other silver crowns scattered among the ranks of the Union Army, and began to feel nervous.
Just as I was beginning to think of deserting, a previously unthinkable idea, Mod Andrew stepped to the front of our ranks and began bellowing at the Confederate army.
“Hey, all you noobs over there! I've just been talking with General Meade, and it seems that your army has been delaying real-world business. This is a violation of Rule 15! Therefore, you shall all be BANNED!”
“Retreat!” yelled the Confederate officers, and there was a sudden stampede to escape the battlefield. Their spies had missed nothing. They knew the power of Mod Andrew, and did not want to risk it. Those who were not fast enough to escape were trampled, and subsequently banned.
“Now, Union , I hear you have been impeding trade too,” said Mod Andrew, in a low, dangerous voice. I shrunk back, preparing to flee if need be.
“Such rule violation will not be tolerated by Jagex staff!” roared the man in red, shaking his fist. “I will not allow such lawbreakers to go running around RuneScape unchecked! And thus…” He raised his hand, and I broke out into an all-out dash.
Suddenly, I saw a point of light on the horizon. The sun was rising at last! I chanced a glance back at Mod Andrew, but he was gone too. What the heck?” I thought, gasping.
A loud cheer went up from my fellow soldiers. We had been saved…by a miracle, it seemed at the time.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Three years later, the war was at an end. My brother George was shut up inside an asylum, due to his persistent behavior of frequently citing nonexistent rules and threatening to “mute” people. Sometimes, on nights when the moon was full (like it had been on the night of Mod Andrew's arrival), it actually worked. The people he threatened were dumb for life.
And sometimes, even though I know that RuneScape is a land of evil, where people are killed for no reason, I still feel a strange longing in my heart to venture forth into that realm.

Historical Note: This is not by any means accurate historically, although the basic facts of the day are unaltered. Fighting did indeed cease at night during the Battle of Gettysburg, and the battle did indeed take place over three days in 1863 — the three days before July 4th. Also, the Union did indeed win the day, and this battle is held to have been a turning point in the war for the good of the Union by many.

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Seclusion - By: Adam?

Chapter Two

Adam awoke to a beautiful spring day. Outside, one could enjoy the enticing sounds of the season, where birds chirping and other pleasant sounds could be heard. Most people would enjoy this. Adam did not, as he was thinking about whether or not to tale the effort to get out of bed. His body ached from the physical agony that had been thrust upon him the other day, and getting up seemed just too much of a Herculean task to achieve. With his body aching, he managed to drag himself out of bed and prepare for school. Now he was still facing the task of walking to school, because his parents were not home. He walked out the door.
He took the same route to school as he always did, except he decided to not pass through the same alley as he did yesterday. He stopped for a second and though why people were like this. Not just Mark, but most of the people in his class seemed to hate him for his different life style. Since he was not as social as everyone else, he was ridiculed. They simply could not let him be. Adam shook his head and continued on his way.

Adam arrived at his desk, put his bag down on the ground, and sat down. He did not move, he just sat thinking. It was one of the few times where he could be seen not drawing. He was trying to understand why people do terrible things to other people, but he could simply not comprehend the pure hate that Mark secreted whenever he looked at him. It seemed that-
"Hey you!"
His thought process was rudely interrupted by someone he easily recognized as Mark without looking up. The tone of his voice, if not the sound of it, gave him away. The arrogance, the mockery, and the hate.
"I was afraid you weren't going to crawl your skinny little cabbage back into school for another week," Mark said while walking over to Adam's desk, "thought you were too much of a good kitty! to show." He slammed his hand on the desk.
No one seemed to approve or disprove of what Mark was doing, but being near him seemed to make people feel uncomfortable, as they slowly made their way to another part of the room and continued their conversations. Adam wondered for the first time why people were some uncaring of his feelings in this class. Before he could ponder this more he was grabbed roughly by the collar and hoisted up a few inches and thrown back down.
"I've just realized you aren't drawing another great masterpiece like you usually are," Mark reached for Adam's bag. "Let's see what the great artist is working on."
Adam gritted his teeth and immediately regretted putting the picture in his bag. If Mark found it, it didn't matter what Mark had ever done to him. But, perhaps he wouldn't find it, and there was always the chance that it had somehow slipped out of his bag. Adam hung his head at his own foolishness, knowing all too well that that didn't happen, and as if on cue Mark pulled out the picture, and all time seemed to slow down.
Mark's sudden halt in talking was enough to cause turned heads. The expression on his face, turning from puzzlement, to shock, and then to anger, was enough to make people state, and as if on cue, his teacher walked through the door.

"Now I hope you do understand that we do not tolerate these types of things in our school, Adam." The principal studied him, and after observing no change in emotion, he continued. "That drawing is terrible beyond words, and I hope you understand that we do not distinguish between physical or emotional bullying." Again, no change in expression.
The principal sighed and got up. "I'm not trying to say that Mark is sinless, but if he did anything to you, doing this," he held up the picture, "is not the way to solve your problem. Did he do anything to you, Adam?"
Adam knew he couldn't answer truthfully, as doing so would only condemn him to more pain. He looked out of the blind obscured window and answered with a standard shake of his head.
The principal, Mr. Raughtling, shook his head at this. This student had an exemplary record, with no demerits and a good GPA. He thought it would be wrong to punish him harshly for what looked like a non-violent response to bullying.
"I will be sending a letter home to your house, and if you do anything related to this in the future, you will be suspended." And with that he dismissed Adam. Mr. Raughtling rubbed his temple and wondered what he could do if the bullying was never reported by any student. He was sure it was going on, but out of fear it seemed that no one wanted to report it. At least, that was his theory.

Mark ignored Adam for the rest of the day, and most people would have concluded that Mark had been frightened by the picture and was finished with Adam. Adam knew better. He could tell that Mark was merely briefly containing his anger to be released at a later time, specifically, in an alley on the way home. Adam was unable to concentrate the rest of the day. His body was gripped with fear and anger at himself for making the drawing in the first place. As he moved from class to class he was much more detached than usual, and the ticking of the clock rang loud in his ears, as it drew closer to the bell that would mark the end of his life. The bell rang and Adam left. As he made his way home, he started coming to the resolve that he would take a different route. Adam knew Mark's anger would be unimaginable, but perhaps that would cause him to slip up and hit him in plain view of a teacher. As he neared the alley he took a longer route, cutting behind many other buildings, and ending up far away from Mark. As he turned another corner he heard words as cold as ice, yet burned like fire.
"Punishment."
Adam turned his head and saw that death had been waiting.

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Me, My Friends, in I - By: Goliath Gob

Chapter 6 - Miss

I looked up as the Head of the IEA entered the room. After numerous attempts, it was clear that my head would not go through the door, and they would certainly not demolish the walls just so I could get through, so instead of us coming to her, she had to come to us.

She looked at me, "Oh my!" she said in a low voice, but not too low so that I couldn't hear her.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss…" I said, trying to be as pleasant as possible.
"Miss will be just fine. Now please, start from the beginning of your quest."
So I proceeded to tell her about how we had learned that the artifact we needed was on the planet Olieya, about our trek to the castle, our escape from the guards, and our flight from Olieya, heading towards Reila. Then he went into a long, dull speech about how he must have miscalculated, and how I had become like, like this!

"Well," she said, walking towards the cryogenic tubes, "this dilemma must be solved, so I am putting all available staff under your command Professor."
"I could do it by myself," he replied.
"Oh no, I want to be certain that this does not happen again, and to prevent anything worse from happening," she then turned to face me, "All I can say to you is stay where you are. Since you are confined to this room, anything you like shall be delivered here. It's the least we could do for you."
"Thank you Miss," I said.
"Well, I must be off. I have other matters to attend to. Remember, anything you want, just send for my assistant and he will try to get it for you. Have a good day gentleman," and then she walked out the door, seemingly in a hurry.
A hurry to get away from me, I thought. The Professor headed off to his station, commencing work on recalibrating the machine. Eyes growing weary, I did my best to curl up comfortably on the couch, and went to sleep.

***


I opened my heavy eyes and looked at the time. Thirteen hundred hours. Why had I slept so late? I got up, trying to force my eyes open. My eyes were not closed, but the room was dark. I opened up the door to the other room. Where was Professor Dhymaxez? I got up and turned on the lights. My jaw dropped at what I saw now before me. What I saw was…

Chapter 7 - Missing


Nothing… What I saw was nothing. Nothing in the Cryogenic tubes that is.
Where had my friends gone? Where was the Professor? What was going on!?
I saw a scrap piece of paper out of the corner of my eye. I walked over to it and picked it up. It read,

I have your friends.
Come alone.
You know where to find me.
Tell no one.
Zmevely


I crumpled up with note and disposed of it in the trash can.
"Zmevely," I said, hating every sound of the name. I can't just walk up into his lair and expect him to hand them over. No, I need a plan.
"Are you all right sir?" asked Miss's aide, "Is there anything I can get for you?"
"Anything?" I said, talking to myself. "Yes, in fact there is. There is indeed," I said, smiling evilly.

Chapter 8 - The Plan

"I don't know if I can get you that sir," said the aide nervously.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to see how Miss feels about that," he was out the door by "Miss".
He arrived ten minutes later, carrying the things I had asked for.
"Ah! SRE3000! Excellent! Thank you," I said. Now I can truly get to work and save my friends. Now, what's Zmevely's biggest weakness? Ah, yes! I sat down at the computer station and posted my ad. An offer came in minutes. It was signed… Zmevely. I smiled. He had played right into my hands.

I walked towards the equipment and put them in a silver brief case, all except the Small Re-usable Explosive 3000, which I placed on the door frame. I set it, and stepped back. A sonic blast shattered the wall, an alarm started blaring. I picked up the silver case and picked up the SRE3000 from the rubble on the floor and placed it in my pocket.

I ran towards the ship with all my strength. I wish Justin we're here, he's so much faster than me. I strived harder, running, using the last of my strength. I was relieved as I saw the back of The Oteo. I climbed up the ramp and did my best to set a course for Zmevely's lair. The stars rushed past the view screen in a blur as I punched the button for hyper drive. I sat back, closed my eyes, and tried to regain my strength from the run.

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Courage - By: Jamster The talisman around Alexis' neck felt cold as he descended down the ladder into the Swamp Caves. His tinderbox gave off a faint glow in the darkness, and then the walls were flooded with light as the oil in his lantern ignited. In the distance, Alexis saw a small cave bug scuttle away from the light. Cursing his ill fate, he stepped forwards; only be thrown to the floor as the arm of a wall beast flew at his head. Alexis lay still, trying not to breathe. Slowly, the arm retracted into a crack in the rock. Alexis crawled forwards, terrified the hand would strike him as he stayed prone on the floor. Without his Spiny Helmet, he knew that he couldn't go too far into the caves, but, for his family's honour, he had to continue, and prove his manhood.

After checking his backpack and ensuring he still had his anchovies, salt and anti-poisons, he set off, down the passageway. At a junction, he opened up his map, marked the route he had made so far, and turned right. A cold, slimy sensation gripped his right leg, Alexis winced, and slowly rolled up his trousers; slowly sucking away at his shins was a Cave Slime. Remembering his father's teachings, Alexis whipped out an anti-poison and gulped it down. Immediately the warm, soft, mush of Marrentill Herb and Unicorn Horn dulled the pain in his leg, and, his mind now clear, Alexis skewered the Slime on his short sword. It writhed and shook on the blade, but all attempts to escape were futile, and soon the colour drained from the Slime's body, and it shrivelled up. Alexis dipped the sword in a puddle, and, reciting a short prayer to Zaros, continued on his way...

Rounding the corner, Alexis gasped. On the cavern floor in front of him lay the rotting corpse of another adventurer. Even as Alexis stood there, dozens of creatures swarmed over it, sucking the body dry. Hugging the wall, he slowly inched his way across the dank, smelly clearing where the monsters fed. Still staring at the body of the fallen mage, Alexis failed to notice a huge hand reaching out. The hand smacked into him, and threw him against the wall. Stifling a cry, Alexis picked himself up, brushed down his legs and drew his short sword. The beast lunged, it's long, straggly arm flailing in mid-air. As Alexis brought down his weapon on the creature's arm, a blood curdling scream echoed around the corridor. The twig-like arm, separated from its body, fell to the floor. Alexis spat on the offending ligament, and reached in his backpack for an anchovy. As he crunched on the fish's small bones, he looked back at the corpse, still being swarmed by little bugs, eating everything fleshy on the poor boy's body. The clothes, soaked with cave slime and water, but the light of his lantern picked out a small brooch on the tunic of this now fleshless corpse. Gingerly, he slid the brooch from the soaking garment. It sparkled as he brought his lantern closer to it, patterns of rubies, emeralds and sapphires blazed in his eyes. Quickly, he dropped the brooch in his rucksack and retraced his steps along the tunnel.

Juna stirred, some presence had entered the caves, a presence that she had never felt before. Many humans, goblins and other creatures travelled through her domain, but this - this was interesting - stronger than the average wanderer. Unwinding herself from the body of her last meal, she slithered away from her nest, into the everlasting darkness of the caves. As her long body rounded a corner, she glanced at the cavern floor. There were fresh foot marks, and every one had a strange, mystical aura surrounding them. The footprints were that of a child, maybe 13, 14 years old, yet the power felt ancient...

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