A tall, looming shade in red robes so dark they were almost black stood at the head of the columns.
"Halt, in the name of Zamorak,” it hissed. Theios halted. "Now, I see you bear the robes of a devoted servant to the lord. Who are you?"
"I am Theios,” Theios replied easily.
"And I am Master Nzane,” the shade rasped. Theios bowed deeply, pausing to fling the body of Gerrick on the ground.
"Interesting. I would like a word.”
"Speak,” Nzane said flatly.
"I hail from the city of East Ardounge. I must let you know I was nearly killed by your mages,” he declared.
"It matters not who dies, loyal or not, to bring Zamorak back,” the shade hissed diffidently.
Theios had no more patience. Playing along as the young servant of Zamorak grew irksome. The shade hadn’t recognized him, obviously, but he would receive the respect he deserved. "Indeed. About that, bringing Zamorak back. For your information, I am the Chosen of Zamorak, and I am on my way to bring about his resurrection. I suggest you show some respect for your betters, especially those who are close to his Lordship and will be in his presence very, very soon if you quit delaying us,” Theios drawled.
“Forgiveness, my lord.” The shade bowed hastily. “Of course. Jraf!" A soldier jumped forward. "Find these men a decent tent, and make sure they are comfortable. Then return to the lines. If we are not here, go to the city. And be quick about it,” The shade snapped. The soldier motioned to them, and they followed him deeper into the forest.
18-May-2006 00:00:20
- Last edited on
18-May-2006 00:14:30
by
Crystal Smee