Full Synopsis: 9Daron99 lives a hard life, as the best player in Runescape. Being famous isn't all glamorous, soon, you find yourself surrounded by the crowds all too much, and, all of a sudden, a new girl walks into his life, Tyora, who recognises that. Meanwhile, Gielinor's secret service, Pre-MI6, are running into trouble, around the clock. They're getting reports of deaths, and a decrease in population - this can only mean one thing, people are dying, and staying dead. Who's doing the killings? And how can they be stopped?
Author's Note: This story is rated M for extreme violence, and possible future plots including mild or extreme sexual references. Please, if you don't want to read all of it, at least R&R the first chapter.
Un
Chapter 1: Courtesy
Bang. Slash. Crash.
The Dragon Axe came crashing down upon the Magic Tree, stripping it down into logs from the bark of the tree. Daron had 99 Woodcutting, but he wanted to get some Magic Logs anyway, to sell, just for the hell of it. 9Daron99 was the top player in Runescape, there was no dispute. He was more famous was Kingduffy1, Zezima, and Yogosun1. 99 in every stat, 259 Quest Points, all music tracks, and nearly maxing the allowed amount of money he could keep in his bank. Life for him was excellent, he was always surrounded by worshippers, people who wanted to compliment him and be around him, he was the most famous player. Sometimes, he liked being on his own, but most of the time, he was happy to be loved by so many. He maxed his inventory with Magic Logs, and brought them over to the bank, where he stored them and returned to the Magic Trees. Suddenly, some random person piped up,
"Oh my god, it's 9Daron99!"
"Where?"
"Daron! We love you!"
Daron smiled, and waved at the people surrounding him. He walked over to the Magic Trees, as the crowd followed him.
"Will you do an interview?"
"You rock!"
"G0 D4r0n!"
"Noob."
"D0nt c4ll meh n00b j00 1d10t." Daron sensed an argument coming, but did not say anything.
"I'll call you whatever I want."
"Yeah, don't talk leet, leet stinks."
"Nothing wrong with it."
"You siding with him?"
"No ... I just said there's nothing wrong with it."
"4dd meh?"
"No ..." said the man who had said he didn't mind the leetspeak, with a rather harsh tone in his voice.
"T00 b4d n00b." A woman nearby coughed loudly, Daron knew what she was thinking. "Alright, stop arguing, you two," Daron announced. Immediately they stopped.
"Hey man, show us your house!"
"Yeah, we wanna see your house!"
"House, house, house ...!" Someone chanted, and others joined in, all chanting for him to show them his house.
"Yeah, fine," said Daron, as cheers erupted, he walked towards Fremenik. The crowd followed him eagerly. More started to join the crowd, intrigued at who was leading it. To Daron's concern, many low-levels died as they passed White Wolf Mountain. It, at least, reduced the crowd. Then, one died from a nearby wolf near Relleka. Daron stopped by the house portal, and entered his name, as it granted entrance. His house, having 99 construction, had to be pretty incredible, and, indeed, it was a sure haven. The formal gardens were alive with the magic trees emanating power, and the glorious fountains spurting water in all directions. The surrounding rooms were made of white marble, displaying trophies and armour, glorious furniture and signs of his level, all his skillcapes hanging from a display, for people to gaze at, a throne room above an oubliette which, to Daron's amusement, seemed to catch alot of people out. There were more than a hundred, possibly two-hundred in his house, all eagerly following Daron wherever he went. There were people drinking from his Chef's Delight barrels, making themselves tea, sitting on the chairs and benches, going down to the dungeon, praying at the chapel, fighting in the oubliette, examining the garden, the parlour, and the bedroom. Daron went outside, looking all around at the crowd following him eagerly. There was spamming, worshipping, people asking for interviews, people asking him to add them, all sorts of people everywhere. He walked into the Throne Room again, and, expectedly, everybody was there with him.
"Daron, I love you!"
"9Daron99, would you give an interview?" Daron sighed. Why did everyone think they would get an interview if they asked, he wondered. Most of his life, he had been able to tolerate these people, but, suddenly, he found himself, a bit more irritated than usual. He felt like he needed some alone time, he wanted to be able to continue cutting mage logs without the pressure of the crowd. Still, he sat in his throne, then eventually got up to wander around the house. Several challenged him to the Combat Ring, he grudgingly agreed, even though he beat everybody who challenged him. About, half-an-hour had passed, and 9Daron99 was feeling like he had not done recently. He just wanted to be alone, just for a few glorious minutes ... There was only one answer. He fumbled around in his pocket for a short black object, with five buttons, and a room count, building mode on, building mode off, leave house, expel guests, and lock portal. He pressed the expel guests button, and then quickly pressed the lock portal button. He was just slow enough to let through one woman, who found herself, solitary, in the vast house, alone with Daron all of a sudden. The woman saw Daron reach for the expel guests button. Her eyes widened.
"No, wait, stop a second!" The woman cried. Daron paused, finger hovering over the button. "Please, before you get rid of me, just listen to what I have to say."
Daron slipped the house control into his pocket, intrigued. The woman walked over to him, and Daron examined her more closely. Daron looked, interested, to see that she, too, was Level 132. Her name was Tyora, and she was dressed in elaborate White Mystic, carrying a Mystic Mud Staff, wearing a red party-hat instead of a mystic hat, and brandishing a hitpoints skillcape. She carried a dragon warhammer, and a dragon shield, wearing boots of lightness, and thick dragonhide gloves. The overall effect made her look respectable, but beneath the armour and weapons, she was also quite beautiful.
"Your name's a rare one," said Daron. Tyora nodded. "Anyway, what do you have to say?" Daron inquired. Tyora walked into the parlour.
"Do you mind if I sit down, Daron?" She said, with the air of a person who familiarised herself with everything and everyone straight away. She relaxed into the chair, arms loosely upon the arm, inviting him to sit down himself, which amused Daron, as he sat down beside her. She gazed absently at the ceiling, before remembering she was supposed to be talking to Daron. She straightened up.
"I could see you, among the crowd, all that time. I've seen so many famous people, I'm actually quite high up on the hiscores myself, I have some good links," she started. "Yogosun and I are actually regular buddies, we meet up all the time. It's pretty nice actually. Anyway, I see fame all the time, so, restraining myself from shouting "You rock," is pretty easy. Infact, I came to this house to see how you were doing facing all those people. I've snapped so many times when me and my friends are surrounded by a whole crowd." Daron nodded, thinking about how he had eventually been unable to contain his anger, and evicted everybody from the house. She was not looking at anywhere in particular, rather vaguely gazing in the direction of the bookcase, leaning forwards, hands on her lap. "I saw you, and how you were driven to the point up to where you had to get rid of everybody. If I was surrounded by the same amount of people in my own home, I'd have done the same." Daron looked at her.
"Alright, I understand, now tell me what you're here to talk to me about," said Daron, with a hint of annoyance and amusement at the same time.
"I just think that, coming here, you and me are so alike, and, I can so sympathize for the kind of strain constant fame puts on you." Still, she was looking at nowhere in particular, but she maintained her composure, her face emotionless, making it impossible to read her thoughts. Daron cocked his head in agreement.
"I still don't see why you're here," said Daron.
"To extend a courtesy," she said, getting up from her seat, and looking at him. "I'd just like to say that, I'm not someone who's there to interview you, or shout at you, or spam near you, or praise you, but someone who's there if you need me. I've often been interested in meeting you, not for the experience, to say 'I've met 9Daron99,' but just to say that I respect you as a figure of fame and fortune, and I'm sympathetic to the kind of things you're getting from your followers." Daron considered what she was saying, wondering whether to accept this as an offer of friendship, or, as she had said, a mere courtesy.
"Oh, and by the way, you ought to upgrade your portal, it was actually locked before I entered." With that, she took out a black house control, pressed a button in the middle, and vanished. These last words made no difference to Daron, he examined the top-of-the-range exit portal, running a hand over the smooth surface. Daron raised his hand to the air, and used his index finger to trace the words, 'Tyora'. They appeared, shining neon yellow, suspended in the air, before vanishing, like Tyora had done, onto Daron's friend list.