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Crystal Smee

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“Friends, citizens of Varrock! I have little doubt you have heard the rumors, that Zaros is risen once more! He has acquired the Staff of Armadyl, and even now he begins to wreak havoc upon our world!”

At these first words, a pair of guardsmen trotted over and jumped onto the table, grabbing Larvald and heaving him down to the ground.

“We’re going to have to arrest you, ser,* growled one.

“What? Why?” he gasped, then groaned as he was slammed face first onto the cobblestones. One of his half-healed ribs cracked all over again, and he nearly passed out with the pain. “Ah! Idiots, let go of me!” he tried to scream, but his voice was no more than a rasp. “I’m injured, I won’t bloody fight!” The crowd backed away as the guards let go and stood, but drew their blades and pointed them threateningly at Larvald. He lay motionless on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes. Glevea forced her way through the circle and rushed to his side.

“Are you all right?” she breathed, grabbing his hand.

“I’ll live…” he croaked.

“Why are you arresting him?” Glevea turned and hissed at the guardsmen.

“Disturbing the peace, missy. Such talk ain’t allowed,” explained one, hooking his thumbs through his belt and swaggering forward.

“But that’s foolish!” she exclaimed. “You can’t just ignore this! Ardounge went up in flames just three days ago! And it was us who saved it by fighting Zaros himself, nice to know you’re all thankful!” she scowled at the guard, but when he made no move to arrest her too, she stood and gathered the attention of the onlookers. “We can’t do it on our own! Look at us! Larvald, with broken ribs. My head was hurt badly, and others of our small group have been injured far worse. We need your help! There are more people like us, adventurers that need a challenge! You’re the best fighters in the land! Help us. Please.” The last word was a sobbing plea.

03-Jul-2011 16:39:25

Crystal Smee

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“Say, miss, how did Zaros get the Staff?” the question came from the middle of the pack, Glevea wasn’t sure who asked. She hung her head.

“Zaros had a clever ploy to find it. It was locked away in a dungeon, and only an Armadylist could get it. He has been designing contests for over a thousand years, a contest in which adventurers search the dungeon, thinking that they will find a way out and receive a prize. The past few times, every contestant has died, and the Staff wasn’t found. In ours…six of us found the Staff. We took it, but he and his necromancer attacked us with magic we couldn’t fight…” she trailed off, the rest was obvious.

“So it’s your fault!” shouted another voice.

Guthix appeared suddenly at Glevea’s side. The crowd gasped as some recognized the godly figure. “You mus*’t blame them,” he said in a strong, clear voice. “Like she said, it was magic they couldn’t fight. It wasn’t their fault, it wasn’t the fault of the gods. Do not seek to blame, instead seek to right this wrong. Your help is needed. Zaros has an army, we need one as well. Who will join our forces?”

Glevea moved back to the desk as a rough line formed, while Guthix tended to Larvald. The first adventurer to come to her desk was a tall, lean man. His piercing dark sapphire eyes bored into her head. He had messy black hair that shadowed his face. He wore black dragonhide plated with obsidian armor beneath his long black cloak. In his left hand he carried a tall staff, coated with obsidian and lined with other rich gems. Light pulsated from it, as though it was alive with magic. He tapped one long finger, carrying a silver ring, on her parchment. “M’name’s Talon. I don’t serve no gods, but I got a grudge against Zaros and his little minions. I’ll help you until every last one is dead.” He hissed the last word venemously, and Glevea knew from the hatred in his voice that he would be a very powerful ally.

03-Jul-2011 16:39:51

Crystal Smee

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***

Katherine and Exile sat in their own stall. Katherine was covered in bandages from her injuries from Ardounge. Exile hadn’t been injured, but dark circles hung under his eyes. He had lost a lot of sleep with his guilt over Krystal.

They had done their advertising for their cause, and now a long line of adventurers waited to put their names down. Again and again, Exile said, “Print your name, sign, and be at the White Stag at sundown for a meeting.” He was bored. As each new fighter signed, he eyed them carefully. So far, it looked like they were putting together a good team.

“I’m Timon Fedyt,” said the next man calmly. Exile examined him excitedly, for he looked formidable. He had long brown hair, with a single lock passing his cheek that faded to bright green. It must have been some sort of dye. His eyes were the same emerald color, turning up at the corners. His nose was long, somehow fitting perfectly with the rest of his face. He was very handsome. His skin was a dark copper color and his muscle was obvious beneath his long-sleeved gray shirt and dark brown pants. He carried a large sheathed sword slung over his pack, and over this was a pack that bulged with what looked like armor. There was a large dagger as well in his belt.

“Print your name, sign, and be at the White Stag at sundown,” sighed Exile with a smile.

“Sierra Brown.” This was the first woman Exile had seen. She was thin and lanky. Black hair hung to her neck, and her eyes were dark blue. Her thin gray shirt exposed some over her stomach, beneath which she had baggy jeans and sandals. Her hair was tied back with a blue ribbon. A long blade was carried across her back like Timon. She appeared to have no armor.

“Print your –“

“I heard you before, it’s okay,” she laughed softly, smoothly cutting him off. Exile offered a grateful smile.

03-Jul-2011 16:40:10

Crystal Smee

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“Hughes. And I heard too.” The slender man winked. As he bent to sign, his oddly silver hair fell forward and revealed his pointed ears. An elf, Exile realized. He should have guessed from the hair and bright green eyes.

He wore a black shirt and pants, and a dark dragonhide cloak over that. His dragon halberd leaned against the table, and tied to it was a pack that appeared to carry his armor. His long fingers quickly scrawled his name, and he departed.

“Rav’el.” The man’s voice was slightly accented, making him roll the ‘r’. He was tall and muscled, with startling crimson eyes. He wore black robes and a cloak. He carried no visible weapons, but the way he carried himself made it obvious he was dangerous. Exile wondered what weapons he might carry concealed.

“Print –“

“I know.” Rav’el said flatly. Exile flashed a smile, but the man’s stony face revealed no emotion in return. As Rav’el vanished, Exile realized the line had ended for the time being. He eyed the stalls around them and suddenly leap to his feet. Katherine glanced at him.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, and darted off. Katherine sighed and leaned back, trying to ignore the dull ache from her hundreds of tiny wounds. The magical splinters had disintegrated inside her body, but the wounds they had made remained. Each was like a miniature stab from a knife, and they covered her body. She cursed Zaros time and again for doing this to her, but it did*’t relieve the pain.

She glanced up as Exile returned. He carried a long-stemmed rose in one hand, holding it clutched to his chest. He grinned broadly and held it out to her as he approached. “Roses are red, violets are blue, you’re amazing, and –“ he stopped and spun as he heard a loud cough. He swore inwardly when he saw who it was. He had expected another fighter to sign up, and he would have just told them to sign and move on, but instead, Guthix stood behind him with a wide smile.

03-Jul-2011 16:40:33

Crystal Smee

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“Feeling poetic, Exile?” he chuckled. Exile blushed, unable to finish what he had been about to say. He wasn’t normally like this, but he had been giddy with happiness that things were going right for once. Guthix humiliating him killed the mood.

“A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady,” he said instead, and handed it to her. Then he flopped down in his chair and resisted the urge to put his head in his hands.

“Thank you, Exile,” Katherine gushed. “Roses are my favorite!”

Exile nodded, then glared at Guthix. “What are you doing here?” he growled.

“Just checking your progress,” Guthix shrugged apologetically, not understanding what he had interrupted.

“We’re doing just fine.”

“Well, good.” Guthix winked. “I’ll be on my way, then.” There was a flash of light, and he was gone.

“You were saying…?” Katherine prompted. Exile took a deep breath.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. The moment had passed. Katherine shrugged and ripped off the stem of the flower, then stuck it behind her ear. Exile chuckled.

“Well, look at you two,” drawled an all-too-familiar voice. Katherine and Exile turned in unison, dreading what they knew they would find. Zaros leaned on the post of the stall, wearing clothes identical to those he had worn in Ardounge. He held the Staff out in his left hand, tapping it lazily on the ground.

Suddenly he straightened and grabbed Katherine, outstretching his weapon to block any attempt from Exile to rescue her.

“I don’t like what you’re doing,” he snarled. “No, I don’t like it at all.” He tapped the Staff on the ground once, and both he and Katherine vanished. All that remained, lying on the ground, was the rose from her hair.

He turned and flung himself into his chair, then slammed his forehead down on the table in despair. What could he possibly do to help her? At the sound of footsteps on the cobblestones, he looked up. A man was approaching him, wearing a blue shirt and black pants. A black cavalier hat was perched on his head.

03-Jul-2011 16:41:04

Crystal Smee

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There was something about his movements that made Exile watch carefully. They seemed stiff, almost mechanic. As he got closer the former assassin noticed that the man’s eyes were bright red. He stood up rapidly and backed up, but the man merely stopped at the desk.

Before Exile could speak, he recited, “Love can be a sweet thing,
But you should have guessed the pain it would bring,
Pain felt with every breath
Should the lady meet her death.

You’ll wish to find her,
That I’m sure,
Return to the place in which you sleep,
There I believe you’ll find that which you seek.*

He took two steps backward and suddenly, Exile noticed blood staining his tunic. It started with a small red dot, that widened until it consumed his entire lower torso. “What the--?” gasped Exile. Suddenly, the shirt around the blood stain shriveled and vanished. Exile realized there was nothing behind it. The man’s body was rapidly disintegrating, starting at his middle. It spread down to reach his legs, at which point the messenger, some pawn of Zaros’, collapsed. It spread along his chest and consumed his arms, then his neck, and finally his head. In a matter of a few seconds, there was suddenly nothing left of the man but a puddle of blood on the stones.

A pair of White Knights noticed the mess and sprinted over. “Sir! What just happened?” Exile sunk back into his chair, in shock.

“Sir?” pressed one Knight, his voice muffled beneath his gleaming white helm.

“He – he spoke a riddle,” explained Exile, realizing how foolish it sounded. “Then he – he just – fell apart. Vanished.”

“What?”

“Zaros…” muttered Exile. “This is Zaros’ doing. That’s why we were here – recruiting an army. He – he took Katherine!” He was up and walking away. The White Knights, completely and utterly confused, did*’t even bother to follow. Something told them Exile wasn’t to blame.

03-Jul-2011 16:41:27

Crystal Smee

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“Return to the place in which you sleep,” muttered Exile, breaking into a run toward the White Stag. This was the inn in which he was staying while he recruited his army. He could only pray that he wasn’t too late.

He burst through the door and bolted up the stairs, shoving the startled innkeep out of his way. His boots pounded as he sprinted down the hall, counting the doors. Skidding to a halt, he kicked the door open and tripped inside. Then he staggered to his knees, nearly fainting.

Katherine lay sprawled on the bed. It was barely possible to tell that it was her, her body had been mangled so badly. Only her head had been left untouched. Gashes marred every inch of her; she was nearly cut to ribbons. It was as though someone had just taken a sword and hacked away. Blood still poured from the open wounds.

What hurt Exile the most was that across her throat, where there was one long cut from ear to ear, lay a long-stemmed rose. Zaros had made a mockery of him. He climbed to his feet, only to stumble to the corner and throw up violently. When he finished retching, he turned and wiped his mouth. He did*’t know what to do, though he felt like he should do something.

He took a single step toward the bed, then another. He suddenly noticed beside her a piece of parchment. It was splattered with droplets of blood, Katherine’s blood, but the writing was clear.

“Exile:

Roses are red,
Her blood is too.
You’re messing with Zaros,
Your days are numbered few.”

End of Chapter

03-Jul-2011 16:41:56

Crystal Smee

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Chapter 3

Lance grew increasingly anxious as he and Armadyl continued through the woods. There was no longer even a path; they just wound their way through the swampy trees. Long webs of moss and other weird plants blocked their way, but Lance was forced to just walk through they until they snapped, sometimes wade through pools of water, and squeeze sideways through close-together trees.

Finally, the pair stumbled upon a small cottage. It was built high on stilts, with a rickety spiral staircase outside leading up to a porch that went all the way around. The cottage itself was made of sturdy logs and a thatched roof, and looked to be perhaps two or three rooms.

Lance led the way up the staircase, followed by Armadyl carrying Krystal. They reached the porch, where Lance lifted his good hand and knocked loudly on the door. Moments later, it swung open to reveal a young woman.

Lance swallowed his surprise. He had expected an old woman, perhaps hunched over and with blotchy skin, gray hair, lots of wrinkles, your typical “witch”. But Milaeta was young, though kind of odd-looking to Lance. Her skin was dark brown, with black lines snaking across it in all sorts of weird configurations. Her hair was a pale yellow and her eyes were a light amethyst color. She wore a tan shirt, if it could even be called that. It had a long v-neck and very short sleeves, and was cut off high above her belly button. Her pants were dark blue wool and somewhat tattered, reaching down a slight ways past her knees.

Milaeta also wore quite a bit of jewelry. A number of thin silver and gold circlets were on each wrist, halfway to her elbows. They all clanked and jangled when she moved her arms. On her hands, as well, were a broad assortment of rings. One was set with a large ruby, another with a diamond, one with an onyx.

03-Jul-2011 16:42:38

Crystal Smee

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The prettiest and most eye-catching was a large topaz, and around it were tiny emeralds. Around her neck was an amethyst amulet that seemed to have a life of it’s own, pulsing with a deep violet glow. She also had a set of gold links and an onyx necklet.

“Armadeel,” she purred, and batted her eyelashes as she saw him. Her voice was thick and husky, with a slight accent to it.

“Milaeta,” the god inclined his head briefly. “May we come in? I have need of your assistance.”

“You are always welcome here,” she chuckled. She stepped back and heaved the door all the way open, admitting them inside. The main room was homely, a table in one corner next to a small stove and icebox, on the other side a few chairs and a hearth. There were two doors that led into other rooms, it appeared. Lance wasn’t quite sure where they would lead. Perhaps a bedroom in one, the other he had no idea.

Armadyl went straight to one of the chairs, and Lance followed. Milaeta took a chair from the table and faced them both, sitting with her back to the hearth. Right now there were a few crackling embers. The temperature of the room was only slightly cold.

There was a long silence. The witch eyed Armadyl’s burden and guessed at the situation. “She is a werewolf,” Milaeta said finally. It was not a question.

“I’m sure you know what has happened? With Zaros…and my Staff,” Armadyl began sadly. Milaeta nodded. Suddenly, she scooted forward on her chair and grabbed Armadyl’s chin in one hand, forcing him to look at her. She stared into his emerald eyes for a moment, then sighed and released him.

“Armadeel…” she tutted disparagingly. “You are blaming yourself. You must not do that. It is not your fault.”

Armadyl put his head in his hands, resting his elbows very lightly on Krystal’s body in his lap. “How is it not my fault?” he cried out. “I could have taken the Staff. I could have stopped him!”

03-Jul-2011 16:43:03

Crystal Smee

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“No you could not. Everything happens for a reason, and you cannot change that. You could not have got the Staff.”

“I could have! He set it afire, but all I had to do was grab it and teleport, and then I could drop it. Sure, I would have burned my hands, but I could have healed them – because I would have had the Staff!” He shook his head. Lance watched gravely, unsure of what to do or say.

“Armadeel. You cannot have changed what happened! Even gods do not have control over events! Even Penzalos has no control over events!” Milaeta chided firmly.

“Penzalos?” blurted Lance.

Armadyl blanched and looked up, shooting a glare at Milaeta. “Penzalos was, um, Milaeta’s husband,” he said hurriedly, too hurriedly. “He was also powerful in witchcraft, and was able to, ah, tell the future! But he couldn’t change events, oh no. Milaeta considers him above us gods, however. It’s a joke between us.” He forced a smile in her direction.

Lance knew Armadyl was lying, but forgot all about it when Milaeta gestured to him. “Tell me what happened to the girl.”

“Well, we were fighting Zaros, in Ardounge, you see. Krystal was fighting him up close, and Exile, well, he threw a knife.” His voice became harsh, angry. “Krystal moved in the way of it by accident and it hit her in the shoulder. It was poisoned, and I guess since she’s a werewolf, a normal anti-poison won’t heal her.”

“And that is why you have come to me,” the witch purred. “I see. Well, I will take her to my workroom and I will heal her. Then, Lance, I wish to have a look at that arm of yours.” Lance blinked; how had she known his name?

“My arm? It’s fine.”

“No, it is not. I can feel it, it is infected. I will have a look.” It was an order. Lance sighed and leaned back in the chair as she lifted Krystal’s body and vanished through the left door.

03-Jul-2011 16:43:17

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SotD3: Rise of the Alliance