Then, everything was silent. Only the sound of the insects roaming in the night could be heard. Daigan came to terms with his new surroundings, seeing that he was in a small area of forest. To his right, he saw a huge archaeological digsite spread out before him.
"This is... the Digsite?" Daigan asked.
"Yeah," grunted the Sage, who held his back in pain. "They're digging up the ruins of an old Zarosian city, the capital at Senntisten. I tweaked the teleport a little bit so that we would be a little outside it. We need to take off quickly, and put quite a bit of distance between us and Varrock before they start searching the outside of the city."
Daigan nodded. Then, amidst all the confusion and fear, he felt Zharoun's help, and most of all, the words he told the Zamorakan. The old Sage had vouched for him. "Thank you, Zharoun," Daigan said. I won't let him down, the boy thought.
Zharoun smiled. "Don't mention it! Now, let's get moving."
The Sage led Daigan through the trees to what the old man insisted was the east. There was not much said between them, since they were moving so quickly to distance themselves from the chaos that had broken out in Varrock. The moon sat silently overhead, the only witness to the nighttime trek of the two across the silent forests of eastern Misthalin.
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Daigan kept his fatigue to himself as the arduous journey continued to drag on. The Sage was a remarkable old man, he noted, to be able to outlast Daigan, even at his age. Hours passed before the Sage stopped, Daigan obediently stopping with him.
"I believe this is far enough," Zharoun said with a small smile. "We can rest here for the rest of the night."
Daigan did not point out that it would probably be three hours at most before the sun rose, instead electing to take any opportunity to rest. He and the Sage found a small burrow in the roots of a huge tree, and they lay their belongings down within the confines of the dugout.
11-May-2011 04:06:18