All of Varrock was set a buzz as the Midsummer's Eve Festival finally began. Beautiful banners of all colors hung around the city. Vendors filled the streets, their stalls overflowing with tasty festival treats. Groups of children ran through the crowds, chasing one another and laughing. Many gathered around street performers as they entertained the crowds. Even the poorest of the city were enjoying all that the festival had to offer.
As the day drew on, the celebrations continued in the main part of the city, but as night approached, the nobles of the city were beginning to gather at the palace for King Roald's yearly Midsummer's Eve Ball. Ornate carriages pulled by handsome horses brought the nobility to the palace.
Women stepped out of the carriages, all dressed in gorgeous, elaborate dresses in all colors and shades. Each tried to outshine each other with their wealth, wearing the most flashy gems and jewelry that their money would allow. The men that accompanied them were sharply dressed, often with small details that matched their partners. It was an evening of trying to catch others' attention, and jealousy flared up in those that received less attention than others.
There was one woman who grabbed the attention of many men and the jealousy of many women. She wore a beautiful gown, bright vermillion in color; the traditional color of the festival. The brilliant red dress complemented her deep, caramel skin perfectly. Intricate details were sewn across the gown and bodice in gold and black. Delicate black lace graced her shoulders, matching the fingerless lace gloves and cuffs she wore on her small hands and wrists. Her raven black hair was expertly styled with long, perfect curls falling from a pony tail positioned high on her head.
She smiled slightly to herself as she watched the men watching her. Most men discreetly watched her, as to not anger their own ladies. Some scanned the crowd around the mysterious woman to see if they could find her escort. A few young bachelors simply stared, unable to control themselves.
The extravagant gala finally began as the grand ballroom of the palace filled. The finest musicians from across Misthalin played on a balcony above the crowd, allowing the music to float down to the guests below. Servants wound their way through the crowds, carrying large platters of food and drink.
The woman in the vermillion dress took a silver goblet of wine from a passing servant. She sipped at the fragrant spirit as she gazed across the grand room. Hundreds of people filled the room, and she briefly glanced over most of them, looking for one person in particular. Occasionally, a young man would come up to her, breaking her concentration to ask her to dance. She would give a kind smile and polite excuse as to why she couldn't join him on the dance floor.
After nearly two hours of sipping at the same goblet of wine and meaningless conversations with other attendees to the gala, she finally spotted who she was looking for. It was a young lord of Varrock, Lord Tyvar Borrowmont, among the others on the ballroom floor. Her dark brown eyes followed the man in his brilliant blue suit among all of the colors that wove their way across the ballroom. She knew that he was a devout Saradominist, but judging by the way the young lord acted she figured that he earned his favor from the church by opening his coin purse. Even from this distance, she could tell that Lord Borrowmont must have downed a number of goblets of wine so far this evening.
"Er…excuse me, miss?" said someone, bringing her out of her thoughts quickly. Another young bachelor stood before her. "Would you join me in a in a dance?" he asked nervously.
She quickly studied the dance floor. The music was upbeat, and partners changed frequently. She knew she wouldn't have to deal with this man for too long and she'd be even closer to Lord Borrowmont. She nodded and set her goblet down, smiling at the man. "I'd love to," she said, kindly. She smiled more as a look of shock crossed the man's face. He obviously didn't expect to be the one she'd say yes to.
She took his arm and he led the way to the ballroom floor. He took the lead and the joined the others dancing. He barely held her as they danced, as if he was still nervous. An awkward silence stretched on between them, until the young man finally spoke.
"I'm…I'm Edmond Whyte," he said loud enough over the lively music.
She smiled once more. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Whyte," she said, but was unable to continue as partners were switched and she was now dancing with a much older gentleman.
This man was more than portly from many, many years of lavish feasts. His dark hair was streaked with white, as was his large, bushy mustache. She could smell the reek of alcohol before he even placed his hands on her. Once he got a hold of her, he pulled her much too close for comfort. "You're a pretty little one, aren't you?" he said, then hiccupped.
She nodded politely. "Thank you, sir," she said, as she tried desperately to put some space herself and the drunkard, but he wouldn't allow it. She had to pull herself from his grip as the partners were exchanged again. She got the feeling that he wouldn't have let her go if she hadn't managed to get herself away.
And so the process continued, every so often being passed on from one partner to another. She casually looked around the crowd, trying to find Lord Borrowmont once more. She was still some distance away from the lord, and she started to worry that she wouldn't make it over to him before the song was over. She had no way of knowing if he would leave once this dance was over. This was the only chance she had. The music and dance continued and she sighed a big sigh of relief as she was passed right into the hands of Lord Borrowmont. The song came to an end, but the young lord made no move to leave the ballroom floor.
The music slowed as the dance ended, and Lord Borrowmont looked curiously at the woman before him. "I know many of the women that reside here in Varrock," he said as they did a simple two step, waiting for the next song and dance to begin once more, "but I've never seen you around before. I would certainly remember that meeting."
She smiled. "Well, of course not. I am only visiting Varrock from Al Kharid. But that is too kind of you, Lord Borrowmont," she said, bowing her head.
"All the way from Al Kharid, and you still know of me?" he asked, mildly surprised.
She nodded. "Of course," she said. "Many know of you and your generosity towards the Saradominist churches. Even those all the way from Al Kharid know about it, especially with the Abbey of Saint Elspeth so close."
Lord Borrowmont beamed widely. "I do try my best," he said proudly. "I am quite the model of a devout follower of order. As I'm sure you know all about, Lady…"
"Lillian."
"Ah, Lady Lillian," he said, smiling once more. "What a beautiful name for a lovely lady. And what brings you here all the way from Al Kharid, Lady Lillian?"
"Oh, there's only so much sun and sand that one can handle," she said. "I have also always heard about the amazing festivities that Varrock held for Midsummer's Day. Ever since I was young I've wanted to travel here to be a part of it."
Lord Borrowmont nodded. "Yes, Varrock certainly pulls out all of the stops when it comes to the celebrations. It is one of the fantastic things about this city, along with all of the beautiful women that these festivities attract." He gave her a very charming smile.
She gave him a return smile, still waiting for the next song to start up. "It is very lucky that I have run into you, Lord Borrowmont," she said, pulling him closer to her.
"Oh? Is that so, Lady Lillian?" he asked, willingly stepping towards the beautiful, young woman. "Why is it lucky that you've run into me?"
"Because I've actually been looking for you," she said quietly. She slid her hand from his shoulder and down his chest, under his ornate overcoat. The movement was slow, almost sensual.
Lord Borrowmont looked at her, very curious. "And why would you be looking for me?" He asked softly, pulling her closer to him, at ease with her.
She smiled sweetly. "Well, someone that I know very well is the one who told me about you, and after what was said, I just knew that I had to come and meet you for myself."
"Oh? And who was it that sent such a beautiful woman my way? If I know him then I will be sure to send along my most sincere gratitude," said the lord with a beaming smile.
"Of course you know who it is," she said, "there is hardly a soul across Gielinor who doesn't know him. I am speaking, of course, about the one true Lord."
She watched as Lord Borrowmont's eyes went wide. "The one true Lord? You mean Lord Saradomin? He sent you to me?" he asked, in complete shock at the thought that the Lord of Order has spoken to her.
But she giggled. "Oh, no, of course not. Don't be ridiculous, Lord Borrowmont. What would Saradomin want with me? No, the Lord that I speak of is Lord Zamorak."
The look of shock quickly turned to one of disgust. He tried to distance himself from her, but her firm grip stopped him. She used to leverage to pull him even closer to her. With a quick flick of her wrist, which rested against his chest, the blade that was hidden beneath her cuff was plunged into his chest.
She wasn't sure if it was the amount of wine he consumed over the evening or the poison that lined the blade, but Lord Borrowmont didn't seem to have any kind of reaction as the thin blade slid between his ribs, save for a small gasp. Her sweet smile turned wicked as she pulled him close. "The Lord of Chaos will certainly enjoy the soul of such a devout Saradominist such as yourself," she hissed. She let him go as the music picked up once more. The blade was left buried between his ribs as she was swept away as the dance started once more.
She carefully watched Lord Borrowmont. It took a few moments for his next partner to realize something was wrong, but Lillian had already gotten herself off the ballroom floor before he collapsed. She grabbed a goblet of wine and was out of the grand ballroom before the rest of the dancers were aware that anything was wrong. She took a small sip from the goblet, enough to make her breathe smell of wine once more. She hurried down the halls, careful not to draw too much attention to herself. Down the hall, she spotted the door that was her destination.
But her heart sank slightly as she also spotted two palace guards that flanked the door. She couldn't let that deter her though, not with the dead body that she left in the ballroom. She took another sip of wine and stumbled as she reached the guards. One of the guards reached out and caught her before she fell to the ground, causing her to spill some of her wine on him. She giggled drunkenly.
"Oops," she said, giggling. "I am truly sorry." She pulled out a handkerchief and tried to help wipe off the spilled wine, but the guard just shook his head.
"It's okay, m'lady," he said, wiping himself off with the corner of his cloak, looking mildly annoyed.
But Lady Lillian only giggled once more. "Has Lord Whyte been around here?" she asked, taking another sip of wine. Both guards shook their heads. "He told he would meet me here, but I haven't seen him at all since he told me that." She reached for the door and was thankful that neither guard stopped her. "If Lord Whyte finally does come by, make sure he knows that I'm waiting for him." She pushed open the door, winked at the guard with the wine stained cloak, and disappeared into the room beyond.
It was one of the many of guest rooms that filled the palace. It was dark; the only light came from the bright, full moon outside. But she didn't need the light, she knew where everything was that she needed. She set her goblet down and set to work. She went over to a large standing wardrobe and pulled the large doors open. Through all of the spare clothes that filled the wardrobe, she found her gear. She quickly stripped off her vermillion gown and changed into her sleek, dark ranger's gear. She rummaged further through the cloths and found her bow and quiver of arrows. With quick hands, she quickly undid the perfect curls she had worn and gathers her hair into a messy pony tail and tucked it into her cowl.
She hurried over to a large, old tapestry that hung against the stone wall. It depicted some big battle from ages past, but it hardly held her interest. She pushed aside the tapestry to reveal simple stone wall. But she knew better. She ran her hands over the smooth stone, until she found what she was looking for. It was an undetectable seam that ran between bricks. Only those who knew about it could possibly find it, otherwise it was left unnoticed by those that stayed in the room.
She pushed with all her strength and the stone wall swung back silently. Behind the wall was a tunnel that wound its way deep under the castle. She wasted no time in shutting the stone wall behind her. She turned and ran down the tunnels, her footfalls made no noise across the flagstones. She carefully counted her steps, not wanting to risk lighting a torch to find her way.
Five hundred ninety-two, five hundred ninety-three, five hundred ninety-four…
The trickling of water echoed through the stone tunnels. The sounds drifted up from the sewers that wound their way beneath the city. A dim light came into view as she came around the final bend in the tunnel. The barred door that kept any wondering the tunnels to enter also came into view. She reached between the doors and picked the lock within just a few moments. The metal creaked open and she let out a small sigh of relief as she was so much closer to getting out of the out of the city without anyone knowing what she had done.
She simply followed the tunnels as they wound their way below the city, until she found a ladder that led up to the surface. She climbed to the top and listened carefully; waiting until she knew no one was on the other side to slide open the manhole cover.
It was long into the night by now, and she could hear a good amount of commotion from the direction of the palace. She quickly skirted around the palace wall and out of an alley way across from the city's Saradominist church. She sneered at the holy building. If it weren't for her orders to return after the assassination, she'd have taken the time to torch the place. And as tempting as that thought was, she turned her back on the building and headed towards the north gate.
The street was cluttered with garbage from the day's festivities, but it was otherwise empty, save for those beginning to clean up the city wide mess. Beyond that, she saw the large wooden gates and her final obstacle, a pair of guards on either side of the massive doors.
'Easy,' she thought with a small smile, readjusting the bow slung over her shoulder as she started down the street.
The guards straightened as she drew near. The older one, who she figured worked on the Varrock guard for many years, sized her up quickly. "Going hunting? On a holiday?"
She smiled and shrugged. "Just because it's a holiday doesn't mean that the family stops eating," she said. "It actually seems to be the opposite." She chuckled.
The older guard joined in with her. "Aye, I understand that. My sons are all bound and determined to eat me outta house and home," he said, then waved to his younger counterpart. "Let her through before her family resorts to eating each other while she's gone."
The other guard, looking more than just a little annoyed, opened the small door cut into the massive gates, used for small amounts of traffic.
She smiled kindly. "Thank you," she said and stepped through the gate.
"No problem, just be sure to mine those creatures from the wilderness. We've been see many of them wondering uncomfortably close to the city walls lately," called out the guard as she started up the path headed north.
"Don't worry, I will," she called back, smiling slyly to herself, before adding quietly, "those creatures aren't really the worst of your problems now." She hurried her way to the low, crumbling wall that ran along the border with wilderness, and climbed over, heading towards her home in the charred wasteland.