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[#E4B29LWTR]

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“Whatever it was,” started Trey, “I cannot have you running around.” From out of a drawer, he drew a rusted and bloodied knife. “I never liked you, Dallion, but I never hated your guts. You were just a good target. But you pose a threat to me and my master.” He then drew closer to the struggling teenager on the ground. “I’m sorry, Dallion.”
And he plunged his blade through Dallion’s heart – nearly.
“Wait!” exclaimed Dallion, and Trey quickly flinched back. “What?” he asked, annoyed.
“I know things. Alder Goldrider kept a journal. I read it.” He gulped. He hadn’t selected the best answer, but it was all he had.
Trey looked at him in disbelief. “You better not be lying to me, Dallion Goldrider, or I’ll behead you, no matter how much you know. *If* he know anything.” He then threw his dagger into the shadows of the furniture.
“Take him to my quarters. I’ll sleep in the Master’s.” He then grabbed one of the guards and thrust him to his face. Trey’s cheekbone stood out. “You had *better* barricade that door and if he gets out I swear I’ll tear your heart out with my bare hands if it means killing you.” He then shoved the guard back and Trey strolled across the room. He exited through a fine black door and into what Dallion saw as Drevious Steel’s quarters.
One of the guards fled and another led Trey to another door at the opposite side of the room. The guard shoved him inside and he flew head first into the leather couch. The door was instantly slammed shut and a chair was placed against the handle.
Dallion brushed the hair out of his emerald eyes and looked around the room.
It was ordinary. There was an oak table with mahogany benches that served as chairs and there was leather furniture around the room. The room was much smaller than the other just outside. There were cupboards containing mugs and there was a jug filled with water. Paintings of Trey’s ancestors and the greatest murders or dark lords hung on the walls.

18-Mar-2008 18:38:49 - Last edited on 12-Apr-2008 05:17:14 by [#E4B29LWTR]

[#E4B29LWTR]

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Those were the only highlights of the room. All in all Dallion was very bored.
Dallion just rested his head on the cushion made from the same type of material where Zoë’s ruby and Dallion’s key had sat. The cushion was as soft as a relaxing bubble bath. In a few moments, Dallion was asleep.
~!~!~

18-Mar-2008 18:38:50 - Last edited on 12-Apr-2008 05:17:35 by [#E4B29LWTR]

[#E4B29LWTR]

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As the days passed, Dallion was given most of the crew’s chores. Every morning, Trey would wake him for brutal chores that took from dusk until the next dawn. Dallion felt he wasn’t getting enough sleep and tried to pass this message to the captain, but Trey refused to see him. This was a living hell. It was worse than Zamorak’s flame pits.
*Flame*.
He looked around for it, but no fire danced in the air on this grey afternoon. All the crew was strolling across the desk, glaring at him and punching him for the fun of it.
One crew member decided upon a brutal beating. *Hey everybody! Beat on the prisoner!” The crowd roared their approval and charged at Dallion.
“That bi”— started Dallion, but he was cut off.
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” screamed a voice. The crew, including Dallion, all turned to the figure who had said that. Trey was gracefully gliding down a staircase and to the main deck. “Who ordered this beating?” he demanded. Dallion could feel the power in his voice, not letting any share it. The crew feared him, and they were right to do so. His voice was as cold as ice, and despite the fact that Dallion had beaten him in a duel; he was probably by far the master swordsman now. Drevious had probably trained him in the arts of combat.
One crew member, reluctantly and fearfully, raised his hand. He was an ugly fellow, with a black and rotted tooth in the front and a messy white beard. His head was bald and his leather armour was badly warred out.
In a swift motion, Trey drew a sword and slashed it in an arc. In a flash, the head of the former soldier was drowning in the sea. His body limply tumbled to the ground.
“Let this be a lesson for anyone who dares think the same as he did.” Trey then sheathed his blade and the beating was over.

18-Mar-2008 18:39:47 - Last edited on 12-Apr-2008 05:18:27 by [#E4B29LWTR]

[#E4B29LWTR]

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“Get back to your quarters,” commanded Trey. Dallion did*’t dare refuse. He still felt the cold power and rushed back to Trey’s room.
Only a miracle would help him escape. And so far, things looked slim.
He preyed that Zoë would come find him.
» End of Chapter Six «

18-Mar-2008 18:39:48 - Last edited on 12-Apr-2008 05:19:05 by [#E4B29LWTR]

[#E4B29LWTR]

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» Chapter Seven -- The Last of the Maringol «
Only four other Maringols remained in existence. Three were at at the scene, the fourth had unknown whereabouts. They were each hooded in turquoise colour robes, swords drawn and arrows ready.
They were on the outskirts of Draynor Village, preparing to kill the old man who had caused all this. But five of Drevious’* men guarded the town. Steel had dictated the entire city, enslaving all the people and forcing them to smelt steel and day and night. The Maringols intended to end that.
An axe man, a swordsman, and an archer each had their weapons at the ready. The archer pulled back the string on his sturdy oak short bow and released the arrow. The lead man fell to the ground, kicking and screaming.
Then the warriors were upon them. The axe man swung his weapon in an overhead arc, and the axe impaled itself through the warrior’s body.
Now it was three on three.
The archer slowly backed up, quickly firing arrows without focus. He was overcome by fear as one of the warriors marched upon him. The warrior drew back his sword and prepared to behead the archer.
Unexpectedly, a hit from the knee cap of the warrior struck the archer’s jaw. His head jumped up a little and the warrior plunged his sword through the heart of the archer. He gave a small scream of agony and collapsed to the ground dead.
The swordsman drew a throwing knife and hurled it at the archer’s killer, who was charging at him. The accuracy of the swordsman was very advanced because the dagger hit the warrior in the gut. He gave a twisted cry of pain and sunk to the frosted grass.
Two on two. The odds were even again.
But the odds were defeated for another time. One of the warriors charged at the Maringol axe man in a diagonal slash, completely making his body fall about. It was a quick death, but it was a very ugly sight. The axe man did*’t even have time to block the attack, let alone attack.

18-Mar-2008 18:41:12 - Last edited on 14-Apr-2008 00:26:34 by [#E4B29LWTR]

[#E4B29LWTR]

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The swordsman readied his sword. “Well?” he asked.
“The Drevians do not give away victory!” And then they roared a battle cry full of hatred and anger that burned like fire.
The Maringol was quick and elusive though. Quickly ducking under the blade of the first warrior, he sliced the back and a howl of agony pierced the night. But the Maringol did*’t have enough time to dodge the attack of the next Drevian. The sword sliced across his back, and he gave screamed.
“Give it up, Maringol.” The Drevian raised his sword – and then dropped it to the ground. He dropped it because an arrow had struck him in the right hand. The warrior ripped an arrow out and examined the green liquid on the tip.
The Maringol could see the warrior’s face turning slightly green. He could not tell fully, because the shadow of the Drevian’s hood covered his face. He gave a twisted, inhuman howl and toppled to the ground, limp as a dead fish.
The Maringol was holding the lying on the ground to keep the wound as best as he could. He figured if he had his back to the ground, it could stop the blood. It was not a very good idea, but he had nothing else.
He looked around and saw a gorgeous woman standing on a hill. She wore silver robes, much like the Maringol’s, and held an oak longbow. She quickly departed from the hill and down to the helpless Maringol.
“Sir... your wounds... I’ll help you right away.” She then dashed off to her house once again. In a matter of seconds, she was by the man’s side, planting herbs all along the cut. The scar was eternal and would never fade. He was marked as one slashed by a Drevian forever.
“Sir, what’s your name?” asked the fine maiden, her long black hair dropping down past her shoulders.
“Tathral,” said the wounded Maringol. “And yours?” he asked in response.
“I am Athera Goldrider,” said the maiden.
» End of Chapter Seven «

18-Mar-2008 18:41:12 - Last edited on 14-Apr-2008 00:27:35 by [#E4B29LWTR]

[#E4B29LWTR]

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» Chapter Eight -- The Tomb of Tregal Goldrider «
Dallion awoke to the guard bounding his hands together behind his back.
“Get up,” he growled, “Trey is taking us away from here. Now hurry up.”
Dallion could do that without problems. He smelled like rotten fish because he hadn’t bathed since he had left. How long ago had that been? A week ago? No, it had been longer.
The guard led Dallion to the main deck and they saw Trey, dressed in the clothes he had worn on the day of ending his bullying and becoming an apprentice person-who-wanted-to-dictate-the-world.
“Well, Dallion, here we are. Port Sarim.”
Dallion looked around and noticed all the docks and the seagulls flying overhead. The seamen were asking for gold and giving cabin instruction. Dallion could barely make out a guard say to a woman, “A black knight and a pirate escaped a few days ago. You seen ‘em?”
The woman shook me head. “No, sorry.”
‘Clever Celtic and Robby,* thought Dallion while grinning. Then the thought ended of them fighting together against White Knights when the guard pushed Dallion and he staggered over the boarding deck.
Trey led a group of six men, including Dallion. The jerk had a sword by his side. His smooth, black hair tossed around in the wind. Dallion, as much as he hated Trey, had to admire the older boy. His body was elegant, taking every step disguised with grace.
‘Where are we going?’ thought Dallion. But he did*’* want to look like an idiot, so he held the question inside his brain. It was like a prisoner, smashing against the doors to let it out. But Dallion’s brain was like iron.
In an hour or so, they had left Port Sarim. They marched down the road, where Dallion had first found his father in ashes, where he had met that nice dog, and where those wretched farmers had taken Dallion to jail. All the memories Dallion had tried so hard to get rid of flowed back to him, plaguing his brain with old thoughts.

18-Mar-2008 18:41:13 - Last edited on 15-Apr-2008 00:43:45 by [#E4B29LWTR]

[#E4B29LWTR]

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The six walked through the stone gate leading out of where this all started, Draynor Village. Dallion craved to run to the hill where his mother would comfort him, cook her excellent pancakes, and tuck him in every night. But that wouldn’t happen.
On the outskirts of town, a man and a woman were sitting on the grass. The woman was doing everything, while the man lay on his back lazily. They were probably out for a pick nick. Dallion did*’t see the five bodies on the ground, and neither did Trey or anybody else.
It was nightfall by the time they had walked past everything else, and were approaching a farm on the western side of Lumbridge sat peacefully. Dallion yearned to go dash to Fred’s side. But on the party went, down the road.
Goblins overflowed the streets, but did not kill, which Dallion found odd. Trey or his men did*’t attack, knowing the goblin numbers were so vast they wouldn’t stand a chance. Passed the castle and passed Bob’s shop.
Trey, with his strong fists, bunched the lock on the graveyard’s gate. It snapped open and clattered to the ground.
Dallion knew by heart the graveyard was strictly forbidding. But it appeared Trey did*’t, or he did but just did*’t care.
“Trey,” said Dallion uneasily, deciding to warn the older boy. “You do know these graveyards are forbidden...?”
“What do I care?” sneered Trey in return. “A clue to the treasure is a step closer to domination.” Then Trey kicked the wooden door to the old house where the most important citizens were placed. The door toppled to the ground, making a noise that sent animals around the graveyard scurrying away.
Trey shoved Dallion inside and they all walked into the building. One of the men lit the torch he had been carrying and the six examined the place.

18-Mar-2008 18:43:10 - Last edited on 15-Apr-2008 00:44:17 by [#E4B29LWTR]

[#E4B29LWTR]

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Cobwebs covered the roof and its corners. Dust was on the windowsill on the left side of the building and on the ground. An altar lay in the center of the building. And a silk blanket covered whatever was on it.
“Behold, Dallion, your ancestor,” said Trey and he pulled the cover off the altar.
The scene horrified Dallion so much and he almost fled out the door. A skeleton lay on the altar, cuts in his bones. Flies and others bugs were in his eye sockets and his ribs. It was very nasty.
Trey brushed Tregal Goldrider’s corpse off the altar and it shattered into a million pieces.
“You can’t just!”- He was cut off by Trey.
“Dallion, all the clues are on this altar.” And then the boy saw it with his own eyes.
Symbols of ancient text lay on the altar, symbol after symbol.
“Ratter,” said Trey, and an old man stepped forward. His skin was very pale and covered in wrinkles. He was dressed in lamb fur to keep the coldness of the night away.
“Ye...Yes?” asked Ratter.
“Can you translate this for me?” asked Trey politely, which was surprising. Trey was usually very demanding and ordered it, not asked it. Dallion guessed this old man was all Trey had if he were to please his master.
Ratter cleared his throat, and started. His voice was very weak, but he managed it without stuttering or couching.
‘The Legacy of the Three Kings
Has power beyond belief
Nobody can spend all the money
Find this treasure
And you are cursed with greed
For eternity’.
All was still for a few minutes. Then Trey asked, “Is that it?”
Ratter shook his head. “Would you... like to hear... the second part?” he asked weakly and slowly.
“Yes please,” requested Trey.
Ratter cleared his throat once more.

18-Mar-2008 18:43:11 - Last edited on 15-Apr-2008 00:45:04 by [#E4B29LWTR]

[#E4B29LWTR]

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‘The fortune
Lies under air
Lies under fire
Lies under water
Lies under ice
Lies under earth
Lies under an altar’.
“Under an altar. FLIP THIS THING!” bellowed Trey with cold power. Three of the men grasped and the altar and pulled it to the side.
There, in the building, was the door to the treasure vault.
“Gentlemen,” said Trey. “It appears we have found the Legacy of the Three Kings.”
Trey drew the little bronze key that had caused all this conflict and inserted it into the lock. He twisted the copper and tin, and the door opened by itself, into a tunnel of darkness.
» End of Chapter Eight «

18-Mar-2008 18:43:11 - Last edited on 15-Apr-2008 01:24:41 by [#E4B29LWTR]

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