"How darest thou fail thy Master, Lord Lucien of the Mahjarrat!" roared the skeleton-like Lucien, the Ghorrock Fortress trembling at his words. Solus Dellagar, kneeling before his Master, swallowed deeply before he spoke.
"A mage, follower of your cousin Zemouregal, beat me with the use of a foul sleight." Solus showed his crippled right hand.
Lucien seemed to ooze with pure rage, but he managed to control his anger enough to be able to speak.
"Thou art fortunate, Solus, for I still have use for thee. But I am afraid, I will have to punish thee thoroughly, and know, that I will not tolerate another failure!"
Lucien's eyes were cold, yet terryfying, like a frozen bolt of lightning, as the Mahjarrat pointed the fabled Staff of Armadyl directly at Solus. The mage trembled with fear, his former pride and arrogance suddenly washed away by the sheer rage of his Master.
Outside Ghorrock it began to snow, while the screams of the infamous Murder Mage echoed through the vast expanse of the Wilderness.
-
At Zemouregal's Fort, which was situated not far from the fortress of his cousin, the atmosphere was quite different.
"Thou hast pleased me greatly, Tarvec Frey!" Zemouregal exclaimed, an uncharactaristic look of satisfaction upon his skeletal face. The Mahjarrat was examining the Amulet of Dag'eth intensely.
"Thou hast my permission to leave, Tarvec. Thou shalt be greatly rewarded for thy deed. And send for Sharathteerk, for I wish to consult him in the matter of our invasion. Soon Misthalin will be mine!"
The mad laughter of Zemouregal the Necromancer sounded through the Fort as the snow fell silently outside, its purity so contrary to the foul, black building.
// Wordsmith ~
The Novelists' Guild
// Viking //
05-Aug-2011 21:21:36
- Last edited on
20-Jun-2013 21:28:13
by
Dyrnwyn
A couple of weeks later, King Roald of Misthalin was standing on the battlements of his Palace. He was watching the Wilderness, a grim expression on his face. Even in the twilight, the king could make out the features of the army; he could almost smell the rotten corpses of Zemouregal's living dead. Hopefully Dimintheis would be able to drive back the forces of evil once again.
Suddenly a man, clad in armour and a yellow tabard, rushed through the open door and out on the battlements. A look of absolute horror sat upon the mans face. It was Rovin, a captain of the Palace Guard.
"Where is he, Captain?" the king demanded. "Where is Dimintheis?"
Rovin opened his mouth, but the obviously shocked man was unable to speak. After a couple of attempts, he managed to speak his message.
"H-he is d-dead, Sire."
"Dead?!" The king had gone deathly pale, and his words were but a whisper. "How?"
Rovin cleared his throat and answered.
"It appears, he was dragged from his bed last night. I found him, or what was left of him, lying on the floor." The captain shuddered at the thought. Dimintheis' body had been ripped open, and some ferocious creature had clearly fed upon the internal organs of the poor man.
King Roald was shaken. The only man, who could wield the Shield of Arrav, had been killed, and rumor had it that Zemouregal had aquired the legendary Amulet of Dag'eth. Varrock was doomed, but King Roald Remanis III straightened his back and issued the necessary orders:
"Evacuate Edgeville and fortify the city. Send word to Lumbridge and Draynor that the citizens must hide in the swamp to the south. Recruit every single able-bodied man in the city to defend against the evil hordes. Varrock will not give up without a fight!"
Still deep inside the Wilderness, Zemouregal sat stoutly on the re-animated skeleton of an enormous warhorse. His infantry of zombies and skeletons poured through the withered landscape like a rotten wave of death. Around the Mahjarrat's neck hung the Amulet of Dag'eth, which had given him the power to raise so many dead from their eternal slumber. Dimintheis had been taken care of, and no-one would be able to stop Zemouregal in his hunt for power!
The young man clung nervously to his sword, a look of grim anticipation upon his sweaty face. A few days ago, he had been living a nice and comfortable life on a small farm, but now he was in Varrock - waiting for the undead army.
Suddenly, someone shouted:
"They're coming!"
The man looked out over the Wilderness. A tidal wave of undead creatures came down from the hills to the north, ready to smash itself against the walls of Varrock. His mouth agape in horror, the young man dropped his sword. There was no way he was going to survive this, anyway. All around him, he heard screaming, and the thundering sound of steel against steel. A single tear trickled down the young man's cheek, as an approaching zombie raised its sword and ran him through.
From his preferred spot on the battlements, King Roald watched the raging battle. Several houses had been set ablaze, and zombies were swarming through the streets of the city. They had not yet reached the Royal Palace, but that was only a matter of time.
The king clenched his fist, and hammered it onto the low wall of the battlement. Those damned creatures were impossible to defeat! Even if one was to cut off their legs, they would crawl on and keep fighting. The undead did not even feel pain! Varrock simply did not have enough soldiers to drive back the enemy. All of Misthalin would soon fall.
"Saradomin help us," said Captain Rovin, who was standing next to his king. Suddenly the king's face lightened.
"How, Sire?" he asked. The king thought for a moment.
"Don't you think Zemouregal would violate the Edicts of Guthix, if he was to continue his campaign?"
"Maybe," Rovin replied, "but we don't even know how far he'll go, Sire."
The king looked slyly at the captain.
"Excactly!" king Roald exclaimed. "For all we know, Zemouregal might try to conquer all of Gielinor! Surely the Void Knights would help us restore balance to prevent such a violation of the Edicts, don't you think?"
Rovin nodded slowly.
"If you're right, Sire, we might just have a chance in this battle!"
King Roald Remanis III, filled with hope, spoke again:
"Make contact with the Void Knights at once!"
// Wordsmith ~
The Novelists' Guild
// Viking //
05-Aug-2011 21:22:16
- Last edited on
20-Jun-2013 21:28:18
by
Dyrnwyn