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~^v^~ The Gods - Trilogy ~^v^~

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Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

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~*~ Chapter 9 ~*~


Bydor opened his eyes. Instantly, he wished he hadn't, as the world spun fast enough to make him retch. He wetted his lips, which were dry and cracking from lack of moisture.

"'e's awake, ser," a rough voice said, grating painfully on Bydor's ears. His senses felt heightened. He could hear every rasping breath of his captors, smell every pine needle in the area.

"We's nearly there," another voice replied. "I doubt 'e kin move, jus' keep carryin'."

Curiously, Bydor attempted to move. Pain shot through every inch of his body and he let out a yell. He gritted his teeth and lay still. What had they done?

He wondered where he was and where they were taking him. Opening his eyes again, he glanced around at what he could see. They were on a road, bordered on either sides by thick forest. When he looked forward as best he could, he could see walls rising up off the horizon. They grew larger with every step. A grisly, sour-faced guard leered down at him.

"Hey there, little Saradominist," he jeered. "We caught yer friend, too, jus' so yer knows." Bydor sighed, refraining from asking who. He couldn't let on that there was another boy who had escaped.

“What’d you do t’me?”

“Poison, mate, poison. Don’ yer worry, the Lerd will be givin’ yer the antidote soon’s we get there.”

"Whe..where are we?" he mumbled thickly. The guard cackled raggedly.

"Verreck, matey. We's south o' Verreck. An' we be takin' yer ter see Lord Gerrick," the guard replied.

13-Jul-2006 19:24:42 - Last edited on 13-Jul-2006 19:41:09 by Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

Posts: 7,994 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
"Why...why not Zamorak?" Bydor croaked.

"Captain didn' wanne* face the Ler--," the guard began, smirking. Suddenly, he stopped speaking, silenced by a glare from Jakar.

"The Lerd Zamorak be havin' better thin's ter do than deal wit' a few runaways****?" the Captain growled menacingly. The guard nodded sheepishly.

“O’course, Cap’n, o’course. Pardons, ser,” he babbled.

By now, the pair carrying Bydor had reached the red-stained walls of Varrock. Bydor stared in amazement at the city. He had not seen it since before Zamorak's takeover, and all his memories of the glamorous, rich, breathtaking city were swept away.

As in Falador, slaves labored to rebuild. Varrock was farther along than Falador, the walls nearly finished, and buildings erected once more. The city was bustling with guards and laborers. The walls, as in Falador, had been stained red. Men were beginning to be freed. He had heard how it worked – each labor group was assigned a duty, and when they were finished, they were freed. Some had harder tasks than others, so they continued to labor while others lost their fetters.

Jakar and his soldier were admitted into the city and headed straight for the palace. They passed the fountain, now spouting a crimson liquid. It cascaded over the edges, causing Bydor to shiver as he considered what it might be.

13-Jul-2006 19:24:46 - Last edited on 13-Jul-2006 19:41:25 by Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

Posts: 7,994 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Past the fountain they reached the towering palace, scarlet walls glittering in the afternoon sun. They were motioned through the gates and they carried Bydor to a lonely room, down a long, deserted corridor.

Jakar tossed Bydor roughly on the ground. "Yer stay 'ere wit' him, Hurdek, I be gettin' Gerrick. I be sure 'is Lership be wishin' to deal wit' the Saradominist scum," he cackled.

The door swung open again, revealing two more guards carrying the limp form of Logaen. Bydor sighed from his position on the floor, unable to move to reach his friend. Jakar slipped outside, and the three guards remained. One knelt beside them, producing a small vial of a blue-green liquid. He popped the stopper.

“Drink up,” he giggled. Bydor obediently opened his mouth, not knowing what else he could do. He would drink it or they would force him to drink it. He just hoped it would heal him, not kill him. The liquid was cool as it ran down his throat, and sweet – like rotted fruit. Logaen followed suit and drank as well. Bydor felt as though weights were being lifted from his limbs. Cautiously, he worked his fingers and felt the blood begin to flow again.

Moments later, the door swung open, revealing a towering mass of black. Gerrick stepped into the small room, his intimidating presence overshadowing all there. Logaen gulped from his position on the floor.

A crooked smile curved Gerrick's lips, and in one fluid motion the famed, three-pronged trident slid free of its lashings and was at Logaen's neck.

"Onner crate. Now," he growled. Logaen shuffled back, legs and arms feeling full of jelly, scrambling onto the dusty crate in the back of the small room. Bydor did the same.

13-Jul-2006 19:24:51 - Last edited on 13-Jul-2006 19:41:42 by Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

Posts: 7,994 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
"Not yer," he snarled, waving the spear at Bydor. "Stupid idjit guards, don' yer know nothin'? Yer gotter question 'em one atter time, so they kin' no make up stories!"

Hurdek, and the other two guards surrounded Bydor and dragged him roughly out of the chamber. Now, Logaen and Gerrick were alone.

"So. Wha's yer name?" Gerrick began, his lazy drawl sounding odd with his crude speech.

"What's it to you?" Logaen retorted. Gerrick laughed softly, stepping towards the knight. He stuck the trident under his chin, lifting it up. The point tickled Logaen's neck, and a small droplet of blood trickled down to splash onto his ragged shirt.

"It'll do yer no good ter be fresh wit' me, heathen. Speak true, an' I may jus' spare yer life."

"If I will die anyways, I shall tell you nothing!" Logaen snapped.

Gerrick rasped a laugh. "Yer got cheek, I'll give yer that." His knees bent as he squatted, looking directly into Logaen's eyes.

"Lookie here, lad. I has methods of torture that'll make yer beg on yer bloody hands an' knees ter tell me what yer knows," he snarled, twisting the spear between his fingers. "So. You can tell me yer name, and what yer were doin', an' I might just call off the torture. One of you is the Chosen of Saradomin. I heared tell there were another boy with yers. So it be you or him. I has a guess of who it be, but it’d be nice if’n you could tell me and save me the trouble of guessin’ wrong.”

Logaen looked directly into Gerrick's black eyes and spat. "You will learn nothing, Zamorakian scum!" he snarled, all the venom, hate, contempt possible laced throughout his voice. Gerrick barely contained a flinch.

13-Jul-2006 19:24:57 - Last edited on 13-Jul-2006 20:36:23 by Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

Posts: 7,994 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
"Very well. We be starting simple, Saradominist coward." The servant of Zamorak snapped his fingers, and the pair of guards that had remained darted forward.

"Take 'im off ter the cells. I wants him fettered, upside down. No food or water. One guard, bring him to me in three days," Gerrick snapped with a practiced authority. The guards grabbed Logaen's arms and heaved him from the room. They dragged him down a seemingly endless spiral staircase, deep into the earth below the castle. Here, dank, musty cells contained the remnants of prisoners left to rot.

The guards tossed Logaen in a lonely cell, far down at the end of the line. Handcuffs hung high on the ceiling, the long chains clad in thick coatings of rust dangling down to tickle the floor.

Logaen's ankles were slid into these fetters, and the iron was closed securely. Then they left, leaving him stranded and alone, head hanging in defeat.


Saine watched in horror as both of his companions were taken, dragged away into the darkness. He stayed perched on his branch until dawn, when he was sure no soldiers remained. Anxiety churning in a pit inside of him, he dropped down to the earth and sat beside the tree. He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth and considered his options.

He could try to free Bydor and Logaen, that seemed the most obvious choice. No, that wouldn't work, he had no idea where the soldiers had gone. And it wasn't like he could stand up to all of them anyway.

His next option was to continue on and fulfill their original purpose. He could venture into the wilderness, and bring back Saradomin. He smiled, scrambling to his feet. He would bring back Saradomin. He, Saine, would ressurrect a god.

Brimming with determination, he set off a easy lope towards the north.


~*~ End of Chapter ~*~

13-Jul-2006 19:25:01 - Last edited on 13-Jul-2006 19:42:18 by Crystal Smee

fauxzor

fauxzor

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Erm, hi. Just saying wonderful story Crystal, and I hope it continues to be wonderful forever. I mean forever. As long as the world stays in orbit around the sun, and the moon stays in orbit around the Earth, may this story be wonderful. I would make a fan thread about you, but sadly, I cannot name other players without their consent. Again, wonderful story. 10/10. I know that, but that has long since died and gone way to the back of the off-topic forum.

13-Jul-2006 19:29:43 - Last edited on 13-Jul-2006 19:32:05 by fauxzor

[#80N8R0VWZ]

[#80N8R0VWZ]

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Good add smee, as usual. Couple of things I wanna ask about, though.

what does 'onner crate' mean? I'm not into this bad speech of zamorakiens as well as you are, lol

and i think you made them pull the wrong person out of the room. it says they took logaen out of the room, leaving gerrick alone with logaen. doesn't make sense to me.

13-Jul-2006 19:57:12 - Last edited on 13-Jul-2006 20:00:19 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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