RuneScape Forum Archive | SotD2: The Cycle Breaks

Crystal Smee

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The group of thirteen nodded. "Good. Gather close together, now." The pack moved to huddle together in a circle in the center of the room. Dramen raised his long black staff and chanted, "Da nova ki'sellan ard-hok a'mi!" He repeated the phrase again and again. The world began spinning, a whirl that twisted and churned Radstrom's stomach until he wanted to retch. For a moment, everything was black, and then the spinning returned. With agonizing slowness the swirling ended. The thirteen adventurers stood in a dungeon, with Dramen nowhere in sight.

A creaking noise brought the Blood Elf's head up and Radstrom threw himself down on the ground. A scythe had shot out of the wall, sweeping through the pack. The wide, shining metal had a honed edge, it was easy to see as it glittered in the torchlight.

This was it. The adventure had begun.

18-Dec-2010 16:22:38

Crystal Smee

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Chapter 2

Zyran glanced around from his prone position on the ground. His quick reflexes had barely saved him. It appeared that none of the others had been injured. He was next to that shadowy Exile fellow, who glared moodily back at him. He offered a slight smile. "Wanna come with me? For now anyways?" he asked softly. Exile frowned, biting his lower lip. His eyes darted upwards, seeing the stilled scythe. He rose, brushing himself off. One hand rested on the hilt of his dagger as he nodded bluntly.

"What the heck, sure," he muttered. Beside him, Eta rose, straightening his royal blue cloak.

"Hey, mind if I come with yas?" he asked brightly. "This place doesn't look fun to run around alone, eh?" Exile cast a dark look at him, while Zyran nodded. Finally, Exile nodded too, after an uncomfortable silence. "Which way?" Eta asked reluctantly, breaking the weighty quiet. Exile shrugged and headed for a random door, a simple, tall wooden panel. He shouldered it open and was instantly hit with a blast of warm air. He whirled and grabbed both Eta and Zyran by the sleeve, throwing them to the ground just as fire whizzed over their heads.

In the starting room, a jet of flame shot through the door. Most remained on the ground, still recovering from the shock of their first encounter with the dungeon. "Dragon!" shouted Eta. Phillip swaggered forward, his brilliant white longsword clutched in his hands.

"Let me at it!" he roared. Then he turned to Amy, winking at her. "If I fall in battle, I shall die with your name on my lips, fair maiden," he declared. "Yet I do not intend to fall!" Amy wrinkled her nose.

"Please, don't bother. I'd rather not be disgraced such," she snarled. Katherine sniggered at the astounded look on the Lord's face. Wiping his face clean of emotion, Phillip clanked forward, hampered by his armor.

18-Dec-2010 16:24:45

Crystal Smee

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"Move, peasant!" he growled at Exile, who was sprawled on the floor. Exile jumped up, his dagger in his hand instantly.

"Shut up," he growled, but dove out of the way as fire shot forward again. Phillip trotted into the room, dodging yet another jet of fire. A shining white dragon stood in the center of the room, gaping jaws opened wide to display uneven fangs, dripping with venom. Phillip threw himself behind a pillar in the corner, sweat beginning to mat his hair together. Lazily, in the back of his mind, he dejectedly realized his hair was going to get very messed up on this adventure. He had forgotten his precious comb.

The dragon let out a fearsome bellow. It was angry at being disturbed. Panting, Phillip gripped his blade tighter. He rolled out from the behind the column and rushed at the dragon. He screamed out a battle cry, if it could be called that.

"For the van Georges!" he roared, diving toward the dragon. It swiped at him, but he managed to roll out of the way. His shining blade bounced off the white scales again and again, and the dragon didn't even notice. What it did notice was this fool running around in full army waving something shiny. It thrust a claw forward, hooking him under the chestplate and lifting him up.

"Anyone want to help him?" drawled Radstrom lazily from the doorway.

"Not particularly," snickered Amy. Phillip writhed and thrashed in the dragon's grip as he dangled many feet above the ground. His sword clattered uselessly to the ground, skittering across the pale, ashen gray stones before stopping against the wall.

"I think somebody should help him out..." suggested Zeldonfen as he picked himself up from the ground, combing his fingers through his long cloud-colored beard to omit the tangles. Everyone stared at him, and he shied back under the amount of blank glares down long noses. He held up a hand apologetically. "I'm just saying, it's the right thing to do."

18-Dec-2010 16:25:15

Crystal Smee

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"Then you can do it," snorted Amy. "Because I know I sure won't." Zeldonfen shrugged, unslinging his glittering, enchanted shortbow from his back. He drew an arrow from his quiver and noc*ed it with a practiced, fluid ease. He paused a moment to push his beard out of the way, then drew back and fired the missile straight into the dragon's chest. The arrow, having gained the bow's magic, soared through the air as the tip sparkled slightly. It twirled, spinning around and around on it's side. The feathers whistled as they cut the air like a knife. Time seemed to slow down as it hit the dragon's scaly chest, piercing the natural armor and sinking deep into flesh. The dragon let out a ferocious howl of anger and agony. Phillip tumbled to the floor as the beast reared upwards, emitting repeated jets of fire. Phillip reacted quickly, crawling across the floor to his sword as the dragon charged toward Zeldonfen, time regaining normal speed.

Zeldonfen fired one more arrow, just as Phillip lunged to the beast and sunk his blade into its eyes. With the combined fiery pain, the monster crumpled in a heap on the ground.

Phillip smiled broadly at Zeldonfen and gave a quick bow. Then he stood, eyeing Zeldonfen with a curious eye. Finally, he scowled.

"And where is your gratitude for my protection, you old fool?" he demanded. Zeldonfen blinked, then burst out laughing mirthfully.

"Gratitude?" he gasped between fits of laughter. "You pompous idiot, I saved your hide!"

Phillip's chest swelled up with pride and indignity. "Excuse me? Who has just slain the dragon as it charged toward you?"

"Me. And I'm not some old fool. I'm twenty-four summers!" chuckled Zeldonfen. Phillip glared a moment longer, surveying the man's long silver-gray hair and beard. Finally, he stomped off across the room. He found a door at the far end and tugged the handle. Nothing happened. He tugged again.

18-Dec-2010 16:25:49

Crystal Smee

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Back in the doorway, the group of girls giggled as Phillip kicked, pounded, and shoved the door. His face had turned beet red with exertion and his blond hair was matted with sweat. Amy choked down a fit of hysterics as the man's booted heel slammed into the wood, only to bounce off, accompanied by a cry of frustration.

"It's lo--" Eta began, only to be stopped by Exile's hand clapping over his mouth.

"Hush," he whispered, smirking. Eta fell silent. Finally, Phillip turned around; realizing the door wouldn't break or open. He flushed as he saw the silent onlookers, each with their face red as they muffled their laughter. He strode purposefully to another door. This one sprang open as he touched it. Suddenly, a grinding noise alerted all of the adventurers.

Phillip glanced up, his mouth wide and eyes gaping as a chunk of the ceiling separated, shooting downwards. There was no time to move. The bystanders dove backwards into the starting room, but there was no such luck for Phillip.

With a sickening crunch, the heap of stone crushed down upon Phillip. Sir Phillip van George the
Third was no more. All that remained was a limp hand sticking out, one that would never move again.

Exile chuckled softly, maliciously. "Serves the fool right," he sneered.

Lance fought back bile in his throat. He twined his fingers through his long hair. "That's horrible!" he stammered. "He's gone. So fast..." Amy, in the small knot of girls, bit her lip.

"He deserved it, but I still think it's awful," she agreed. "This place is...pretty dangerous..." Lance gulped and glanced at her.

"No kidding." He turned to go. "Hm, I bet I can get this door open." He passed the dead dragon, a stream of blood staining the white scales, and reached the locked door. He swiftly produced a picklock from his pocket and began working on the door. Meanwhile, Katherine leaned close to Amy.

18-Dec-2010 16:26:14

Crystal Smee

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Go with him," she whispered with a gentle smile.

"What?" Amy frowned.

"Did you see the way he looked at you?" Katherine gushed. "He seems really sweet. Go with him," she urged. Amy bit her lip. If she wanted to survive in this place, she didn't have time to be mooning over sweet young men. At the same time, he seemed much like her, so afraid of killing. It was nice to know she wasn't alone.

Katherine eyed him, his deep blue shirt contrasting his black pants. His long hair tumbled around his face as he bent over the handle, fiddling with the lock. "Go!" she hissed again. Amy sighed. She might as well. Better than being alone here. She moved forward towards him, suddenly aware of the entire group of adventurers with their eyes locked upon her. She shivered with nerves and embarrassment. Lance didn't see her approach as he twiddled the picklock.

"Need some help?" she offered softly. Lance's head jerked up, startled.

"Oh, um, yeah. That'd be great," he said hurriedly, handing her the small strip of wire.

***

Back in the pack of contestants, Eta glanced at Exile. "So, are we going to go or what?" he questioned. Exile shrugged.

"Let's go," he agreed, shouldering his pack. Eta tapped Zyran on the shoulder, but he had been drawn into conversation with bright-eyed, beautiful Katherine. Zyran turned.

"We're going? Oh. Uh, do you guys mind if Katherine joins us?" he asked shyly. Eta grinned.

"Why not?" he said brightly, and Exile nodded in confirmation. The four went back into the starting room, across to another door. Exile twisted the handle, but it refused to turn. Another locked door. He had a picklock out in seconds, and moments later the click of the door opening led them into the next room. Katherine let out a shriek instantly, and Eta clapped his hands over his ears. That was definitely heard all the way in Varrok.

18-Dec-2010 16:26:53 - Last edited on 18-Dec-2010 16:27:15 by Crystal Smee

Crystal Smee

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Then he saw the source of her fright, and wanted to scream as well. The room was inhabited by a writhing nest of humongous snakes. Each must have been 20 feet long, clad in shining blue, green, and black scales. Their eyes were crimson and unblinking. As they noticed the intruders, they became alert. As one, the ten hissing basilisks began to slither with gaining speed toward the four shocked adventurers.

Zyran gaped. His heart seemed to have leapt into his throat and his stomach had flipped over. Beside him, Katherine was trembling. He could see the sweat breaking out on her forehead. "I'm...scared of snakes..." she stammered softly into his ear.

"What do we do?" Zyran begged hurriedly as the snakes slithered closer.

"We could run," suggested Exile.

Behind them, the door slammed shut of its own accord. Katherine let out a squeal and jumped, startled. Exile's eyebrows shot up as he glanced behind him. "Never mind," he mumbled, gulping. His hands brushed his sleeves, and suddenly, both held a gleaming dagger. The snakes moved across the stones ever close, the low rasp of scales against cobblestone grating on Zyran's ears.

Zyran straightened his loose black clothing and freed his own throwing knives, their layer of glass glimmering lightly in the dancing torchlight. He rippled the thick muscles in his back, reassuring himself that his katanas still remained strapped between his shoulder blades. Eta drew his twin golden blades, his perspiring palms slipping on the handles.

"Can three of us fight off ten adders?" he asked uncertainly, though it was a rhetorical question.

"Four," retorted Katherine. She shook her long hair out of her eyes. "I can fight, I think." Eta shrugged. Her hands clasped, then separated, each engulfed in fire. She made a quick throwing motion, releasing two blazing balls of flame. It hit one of the snakes. It didn't even react, though the scales around it were blackened and dead. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat.

18-Dec-2010 16:27:29

Crystal Smee

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Zyran snapped his wrist, a blade whistling from his palm. The basilisk wriggled, slipping out of the way. Eta shook himself quickly to clear his mind, then sprung upward and soared through the air. As he came down onto the snakes, he pointed both swords outward, prepared to slice through scaled armor. He landed in between two of the hissing creatures and his knees buckled, causing him to stumble. His swords bounced uselessly off of the monsters, and he collapsed in the middle of the pack.

Exile gulped. The snakes recoiled, gathering around a new focus instead. Eta scrambled to his knees, shock and fright widening his eyes and painting his face with an ashen, sallow hue. Someone had to help him, or he would be snake food. Exile knew he was making a rash decision, but he didn't care. His hands slipped on the hilts of his daggers. Just as the snakes dove towards Eta, hissing wildly, he threw himself into their midst, slashing blindly with his knives. Eta was knocked over in his flying leap, crushed under Exile's body. The basilisks attacked Exile, devoid of their previous target.

He felt fire coursing through his body. Pain. Agony. Tendrils of pain shot through his every limb, every inch of his being. He couldn't see, couldn't hear. All there was was the fiery agony, the flaming torment of his very soul. He could vaguely hear the shouts of his companions. His eyesight was fogged with a haze of agony, but he thought he saw someone coming into vision. The fangs sliced his flesh, rent his skin. Hot, sticky blood seeped from his pores. There was screaming everywhere. It rang in his ears now, until he could hear nothing else. He thought he felt the pain lessening. Someone pulled the fangs out of his skin. Not gently though, ripped them out with vigorous haste. Then he was lifted, carried away, and everything went black.

18-Dec-2010 16:27:46

Crystal Smee

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***

Only a few adventurers remained in the starting room. Larvald and Glevea, who were discussing what course to take. Then there was Zeldonfen, who still stared in shock at the remains of Phillip.

"I tried..." Alyson heard him muttering as she strode by him, toward the spot where Radstrom and Matthew had begun talking.

"Hi," she said shyly.

Radstrom eyed her up and down with a purposeful scrutiny. Matthew did the same. He certainly was handsome...

"Hi," Matthew replied softly, breaking into her thoughts. "Looking for someone to go with?"

Alyson blushed slightly. "Yes, actually, I am." She took a deep breath, quelling her shyness. There was only one way to get to know this pretty fellow, and that was to go with him. Radstrom furrowed his brow.

"Yeah, sure, she can come with us, eh?" he winked at Matthew. He grinned, but not at Radstrom. At Alyson.

"Of course," he said warmly. She returned the smile.

"Got a way you're planning to go?" At that moment, Alyson heard a shriek from the direction a small pack of contestants had gone. She shuddered. Matthew grabbed her arm, seeing her uncertainty.

"This way," he ordered, dragging her away and through the door. Radstrom followed, his staff tapping on the floor with every stride. As the door swung shut behind them, Alyson heard a soft click, announcing the lock had been set. Radstrom now led the way down the curving corridor. Suddenly, he stopped, with a low cry of surprise. He began to breathe heavily. Matthew trotted up behind him, Alyson trailing soon after.

As soon as she saw the object of attention, she flung herself away and retched violently in the corner. Just ahead in the room they were about to enter, where a door should have been, was a gaping pit filled with spikes. And impaled upon one of those spikes was a body, overcome with rot and decay. His elven form was still visible, shining silver hair matted with blood, his crimson robes of a blood elf ragged and threadbare.

18-Dec-2010 16:28:05

Crystal Smee

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"Arvenous..." whispered Radstrom. And it was indeed Arvenous Slain, Blood Elf and former contestant in the necromancer's trap. Here was his body, still in the dungeon, five years later.

"I always wondered what befell him...he was a friend of mine...Oh, what have we gotten into?" he moaned softly.

***

Only three adventurers remained now in the starting room; Larvald, Glevea, and Zeldonfen. Zeldonfen had collapsed against the wall, muttering to himself. Larvald fingered the bulk of his warhammer, examining his options. He pointed out the one door no one had exited through. Glevea nodded in agreement, hair tossing over her shoulders. They made for the door, which led into a simple corridor. It was short and winding, twisting only a few paces ahead.

Larvald led the way, edging around the corridor. Something scuttled across his boot and he stamped down, hearing the sickening squelch of an insect being crushed. There was a door before him, made of thick, dull gray iron. Larvald stumbled back; hand scalded as he touched the handle. It was intensely hot. Glevea touched his arm.

"What?" she asked softly. "Are you okay?"

"Hot," he mumbled through gritted teeth. "And locked."

"Why would it be hot?" she mused aloud as she drew a picklock from her trouser pocket. She inserted it into the lock and twirled it experimentally. Even as it clicked open, Larvald replied.

"I bet you there's a..." the jet of fire shooting over his head confirmed his fears "...dragon." Glevea sprung instantly into action, hiding her surprise and unsheathing her twin scimitars. She had bedecked herself in shimmering golden armor for the adventure, and the shadows of the torchlight pranced eerily across it. Larvald struggled to draw his hammer with his left hand, cursing again the loss of his right. He ducked another round of blazing flames, wriggling on his belly closer to the monstrous beast.

18-Dec-2010 16:28:25

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