Chapter 11: Morytania Beyond
Knights don't fall
Lance was a knight dressed from head to toe in the greatest rune armor money could afford. The bright blue armor glistened off the sunlight beautifully. It even showed on his sword, which he was returning to the scabbard as he finished off a pesky unicorn. Lance swallowed as he looked down upon the horse-like creature's dead body. He didn't like to kill creatures as beautiful and innocent as a unicorn, but he knew there were times when he would have to do things he wouldn't like doing. Nonetheless, the unicorn had been drawing unnaturally close to Draynor Manor, which was far away from its natural habitat. If Lance hadn't killed it, those undead trees would have ripped it to shreds anyways. Better it get served a swift death by Lance's sword then to be torn mercilessly apart by those rotten trees.
Just recently, Lance had returned from a long trip to the faraway city of Ardougne. He hadn't liked it there very much. People were always eyeing him with suspicion and he was fairly certain the castle's guards were plotting something for him deep within their minds. However, as a recruit for the white knights of Falador and a part time adventurer, Lance knew he would have to go many places where things probably weren't what they seemed.
To be home was enough to make Lance happy. To see his friends would make him even happier. That was why he had ventured to the reclusive reaches of the mysterious mansion known only as Draynor Manor, called so because of its close proximity to Draynor Village and its inhabitant, the Vampyre Count Draynor. It might not have seemed like a likely friendship, but Lance had known Count Draynor for quite some time now and the two had gotten along better then they assumed they would. Lance may have been human, but somehow he fit in perfectly in the mansion.
Standing behind Lance was a shiny black hellhound and a dark brown scorpion, two of the knight's unlikely friends.
The hellhound was named Blitz and it technically belonged to Lance's close friend, Shadow. Blitz had been trapped by the Corporeal Beast and that had scared him quite a bit. The bizarre group of Shadow, Lance, and Lord Drakan had accidentally rescued him from where he had been trapped. Blitz technically belonged to Lady Shadow, as aforementioned, but Lord Drakan refused to allow the hellhound entry in his realm. So Blitz instead traveled with Lance. Lance often earned himself strange glances from the population and a number of selfless warriors had attacked the poor hellhound, thinking it was going to attack the population and they were only protecting innocent people.
The scorpion was named Zeta and he was a rather unlikely soul too. Zeta could only be understood through an unknown artifact known as the Insect-Speak amulet, despite the fact that scorpions are in no way insects. Nonetheless, that factor makes it difficult for Zeta to exist among society and if it wasn't for the fact that Lance possessed such an artifact as the Insect-Speak amulet, there would be no possible way the duo could travel together.
Off and on Lance would have other creatures following him, most of them Shadow's long list of pets that Lord Drakan refused to allow in Morytania. There were many of them, far too many for Lance to remember in his head. He didn't know where any of them were. They often came and went at their own leisure, traveling with Lance whenever they were in the mood to. It never occurred to Lance where they went when they weren't with him. He simply knew they were around somewhere and that they would appear when they were in the mood to travel far away with the knight.
"Was killing the unicorn really necessary?" inquired Zeta, shaking his tail to shake off any debris as he spoke. "It didn't do anything wrong."
Lance shook his head as to agree with Zeta. "No, it didn't do anything wrong so to say." Lance agreed silently. "However, it had done something foolish." Zeta tilted himself to the side, uncertain of what Lance meant. "The unicorn was wandering far too close to Draynor Manor. If I hadn't killed it, it would have been torn to shreds by the undead trees which somehow exist in the front yard."
Zeta paused, throwing a glance over at Blitz, who seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he had just watched a unicorn being butchered. Natural. Blitz never cared what Lance killed. In fact, Zeta often imagined the devious hellhound enjoyed watching the deaths pile up. "So you were doing the unicorn a mercy?" Zeta rhetorically asked. "I guess that makes sense."
"Come on, Zeta, Blitz. We're going to Draynor Manor to see Count Draynor." Lance called to his friends, turning his back on the deceased unicorn. Blitz perked up at the sound of Count Draynor's name, wagging his tail in excitement as though he were a little puppy and not a dangerous hellhound. Zeta and Blitz followed Lance as he headed for the manor. Lance, who was blissfully ignorant of the little albino bat that was perched on the fence, watching silently as Lance passed by. The creature flicked its wings and proceeded to follow Lance as he headed inside the mansion.
Lance, Zeta, and Blitz entered the mansion together, the door slamming characteristically behind them. None of them jumped, for they were used to the slamming of the door. Besides, they knew there was a back door.
Lance paused to look at the little bird perched on the stairwell. It was a raven and it stared at them thoughtfully. The raven was a dull red color and it had a Mohawk, which was rather rare for birds of his species. Lance knew immediately that it was Shadow's pet Raven Allen, who generally spent his free time in Draynor Manor. Allen flapped his wings slightly, comforting himself.
After looking at the bird for a few moments, Lance turned around, heading towards the dining area. Zeta and Blitz followed. None of them saw the little white bat which had squeezed through the door before it closed and thus none of them noticed when the bat charged the raven, chasing it away. Allen cawed frightfully and fluttered his wings, flying upstairs to escape the bat as it perched where Allen had been previously standing. The bat turned its head ever so slightly to observe as Lance, Zeta, and Blitz continued into the dining area.
The dining area was rather beautiful, despite its old age. The table was set up with plates, placemats, and unlit candles, all of which was surrounded by beautiful flora. Lance knew that this entire house was set up as though somebody still lived a normal life in it, even though the house was fairly uninhabited. Chairs were set up perfectly at the table, even though one or two of them may have been broken. Lance looked at a certain area, where there had been a chair squeezed between two other chairs, out of pattern. The chair had a rope tied around one of its legs, which caused it to stand out.
To no surprise of Lance, the chair which was out of pattern suddenly hopped to life, somehow dancing in front of Lance. Lance knew immediately this was Woody, the haunted chair of Draynor Manor. Some of the chairs in Draynor Manor would suddenly come to life and follow around anyone who dared to wander into the mansion, as long as they didn't go up or down any stairs. This one in particular was important to Lance because this was the same chair that had followed Shadow around when some bandits had locked her inside the mansion. It had helped her magnificently and thus she had tied the rope around its leg so she would always remember which of the haunted chairs was her boy.
Woody followed Lance, Zeta, and Blitz as they passed through the dining room. As always, he was uncannily happy about nothing, hopping blissfully to his own beat as he followed the unlikely group. He stopped, however, when the trio descended down the stairs, for like the rest of the chairs in the house, he was unable to pass up or down any stairwell.
The basement was magnificent and had been set up in an eerie fashion which mystified many who came. Lance was still unaware of the albino bat which had followed him into the dining room, perched on the top of the stairs. The basement walls were lined with tapestries and old candles, which somehow remained infinitely lit. In the corner of the room was a dungeon, which had a large unlikely hole in the wall that anyone locked inside could probably crawl out through. A long burgundy rug was draped out along the floor, running from the staircase all the way up to the coffin which laid silently amongst the dust and bones at the other end of the room.
Blitz and Zeta waited near the stairwell as Lance approached the coffin, ignorant to the fact that the bat had now followed them downstairs. Lance climbed the small steps to the coffin, which stood beautifully outlined in red and black in front of him. Most adventurers would come down into the basement and defiantly rip the lid off the coffin, enraging the creature which slept inside. Most were killed and only a few lucky ones escaped. Many adventurers thought they had killed him too, only to find that upon their next visit, the creature was still sleeping within the coffin. Lance, however, was not like most adventurers. He already knew of what slept inside the coffin and how to approach it in a friendly manner. He curled his fingers into a fist and gently knocked three times on the surface of the coffin.
The creature inside the coffin woke abruptly at the sound of knocking. Confusion entered his mind, for it was unlikely for someone trying to slay him to knock on the lid first. He pushed against the lid, easily moving it aside. Lance jumped back as the lid slammed on the ground beside him, almost crushing his foot. Count Draynor sat upright, his eyes exploring the room.
Count Draynor was dressed in all red, which even included his cape. He had brownish black hair, a color which could not be decided upon. His eyes were a vicious red color that bore into man's soul. He was rather pale and had sharp, fanged teeth, factors which revealed his vampyrism to anyone who saw him. His eyes narrowed in on Lance and Lance could see his muscles relax. "Ah, good morning, Lance." he greeted. "It's lovely to see you again. I see you brought Zeta and Blitz."
Lance stepped aside to make room for Count Draynor, who stretched his arms out before even beginning to step out of the coffin. He rose to his feet, gazing across the room. The dim glow of the candles took a moment for his eyes to adjust to, as he was usually used to the pitch black inside his coffin. "Sorry to awake you, Count. I just thought I would come by for a visit."
Count Draynor shook his head at Lance. "No, it's no problem at all. I'm simply glad you're not another one of those foolhardy adventurers who think they can slay Vampyres." His eyes narrowed in on the white bat perched on the staircase and it was the first time since the bat had appeared that it had been spotted. "Oh, what's this?" Lance jumped back as Count Draynor dove into the shadows suddenly, a fancy little move that could only be pulled off by a Vampyre. Count Draynor leapt from the shadows all the way across the room, startling both Zeta and Blitz as he appeared between them. He took a step closer to the bat, holding out a hand for it. The bat shook itself out before leaping from its perch to Count Draynor's hand. The bat stepped uncertainly across Count Draynor's arm. "This appears to be my brother's bat." Count Draynor observed. "I wonder what its doing here."
Lance quickly ran across the room to where Count Draynor stood. He overlooked the white bat, recognizing it as the bat belonging to Lord Drakan. He wondered what a noble's pet could be doing all the way out in Draynor. The bat turned around, its back facing Lance. Lance then noticed a piece of parchment attached to the back of the bat.
Uncertainly, Lance reached for the parchment, wondering if it was meant for him or not. However, the bat did nothing to stop him from taking it, so he assumed it was for him. As he took the parchment, the bat turned around, its red eyes scanning Lance over. "I didn't even notice it was following me." Lance commented as the bat flapped its wings rapidly. It lifted into the sky, flying back up the staircase and leaving the group alone.
"Something from my brother, hmm?" Count Draynor asked, looking at the parchment resting in Lance's hands. "What do you think he wants of you?"
"I'm not certain." Lance admitted, flipping the parchment over in his hands as he wondered when he should read it. "We'll just have to see." Lance pulled the string holding the parchment closed, dropping it on the floor as he went to read the paper. He opened the parchment carefully, making certain not only that he didn't rip it, but that he was opening it the right direction. He held it so Count Draynor could see, the two of them silently reading the messily scrawled words to themselves.
To Lance: Deep in the blood,
It has come to my attention that you have performed treachery against me recently. You have removed something from Morytania that I would very much like back and I'm sure you know what I am talking about. Due to this, I want you to travel from wherever you are to my castle, where you will stand trial for your treachery. All you have to do is show up, admit what you have taken, return it to me, and the case will be rested. Deny what you have done, and you will not like the results. Attempt to hide from me and not come and I will send Vanstrom to fetch you and that would be a very unpleasant little trip. Thus I highly suggest you be a good little human and come where you have been told. I will wait no longer then three days time upon the return of my bat. I suggest you make haste. You have been warned.
Lord Drakan
Lance and Count Draynor finished reading at about the same time and both were highly mystified. "What did you take from him that he's so upset about?" Count Draynor asked, taking a step back as to give Lance room to breathe.
Unfortunately, Lance shook his head, responding, "I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about. I didn't take anything from Morytania. I won't even take a bucket or knife without his say so." Lance dropped the parchment in his fright, continuing to shake his head uncertainly as he continued. He grabbed Count Draynor by the shoulders, shaking him as he yelled, "I won't even access my bank account there for the fear that Lord Drakan would command my items are his own. I haven't taken a single piece of dirt or blade of grass. I don't understand what he thinks I did."
"Are you going to go to Morytania?" Count Draynor asked, bending over to pick up the parchment which Lance had so mindlessly dropped in his panic. He gently pushed Lance aside, clearing up the space between them.
"I don't really have a choice. I have to." Lance responded, shaking a little. "Didn't you read the letter? He said if I don't show up that he'll send Vanstrom after me." He lurched forward, once again grabbing Count Draynor by the shoulders. "I don't like Vanstrom, man!" Lance then back up, realizing that he had touched Count Draynor in a way the Vampyre would rather not be touched. "I'm going to have to go and attempt to convince him that I didn't take anything from Morytania. I don't know what will happen when I go, but it seems like the only choice I've got."
Count Draynor backed up as he said, "Good luck, Lance. I'll watch after Blitz and Zeta for you. Come on boys, let's go to the dungeon for a while." Lance observed as the trio headed up the staircase, heading for the dungeon which Count Draynor had spent much time setting up, but never actually used. It was a litting sitting area where Count Draynor would often spend his free time reading, that short amount of time he wasn't actually sleeping the day and night away, like he usually did. Lance was glad to know that his friends wouldn't have to accompany him into Morytania. Certainly, his friends had all been in Morytania before, they had even been the Meiyerditch before, but none of them had ever ventured as far as Lance would be going. It was comforting to know they wouldn't be forced to come along.
Lance departed from Draynor Manor, starting the ever long journey to Morytania and the dangers within it. It felt bizarre for him to be traveling alone, for Lance had grown so used to traveling with company that traveling without it was just an awkward feeling. Lance had spent years traveling with Shadow, then, when those two wanted to go their separate ways, Lance had traveled alone for a short period of time. It hadn't been too long and Lance had found he didn't like it.
Lance pushed past the dead trees on the mansion ground after departing through the back door to the mansion and getting a chance to say farewell to Woody. He knew the trees in the back of the yard were all permanently dead, no chance of them moving on their own. Nonetheless, it was still uncomfortable to be surrounded by so many dead trees. However, Lance knew he would have to get over it. He was going to Morytania, where the living and dead meet. If he couldn't take being surrounded by a few dead trees, how was he supposed to expect himself to make it through Morytania alive?
Nearing an unnatural exit to the mansion grounds, Lance leapt over the fence. He just barely cleared it, the fence being taller then he had expected. Now Lance could see why only Vampyres could clear the fence and use that as an exit. Getting over it was no minor feat. Lance paused as he saw a little albino bat perched on one of the dead trees outside the yard, gnawing on something Lance couldn't and didn't want to identify. Lance took a step forward, his feet crunching dead twigs underneath.
The bat stopped what it was doing, glancing up at the sound of the cracking twigs. It stared intensely at Lance and the knight had to wonder just how well the creature could see him. He knew bats were prone to horrible eyesight, but what of Lord Drakan's bat? Was it just as horrible at seeing as any other bat? With a hideous screech, the bat abandoned its perch.
Something about that creature made Lance feel horribly uncomfortable. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but that bat was bad news to him, something he would be glad if he never had to see again. He was joyous to see the bat's silhouette grow smaller over the horizon until the hilltops swallowed it.
Lance quickly located the trail to Varrock, which he knew was only a short journey away from the mansion. The sun would still be in the sky when he arrived in Varrock and with any luck, he could make it all the way to Canifis before the sun fell. A part of Lance didn't like the idea of having to stop in a Werewolf village for the night, but he knew he had safely stayed at Canifis before. The Werewolves didn't treat him quite like another human. He could never figure out why the Werewolves acted as such, but he had a seeping suspicion that it had something to do with him being friends with a Vampyre. Perhaps the Werewolves looked at him differently because of that.
Things soon felt normal to Lance again as he followed the trail to Varrock. The trees were a healthy green, their branches blowing in the gentle wind. The grass outlining the trail was tall and beautiful, swaying gently back and forth. Light had returned to the sky, beating away the gloomy atmosphere of Draynor Manor. With all of nature in tact and that horrible white bat nowhere to be seen, Lance finally felt relaxed and at ease with the world.
As he followed the path, Lance heaved a sigh. It just felt so abnormal to be traveling alone, as aforementioned. He was used to Blitz riding up his side and Zeta'a endless talking. For a moment, Lance stopped walking, reaching down for the amulet strung around his neck. It had an intricate shape. It was an irregular oval shape with what appeared to be a pair of antennae on it. It was obviously meant to resemble what a bug's face looked like. Not only could the amulet translate what little insects were saying, but it also worked on a few non-insect creatures like spiders and scorpions. Lance had always wanted to test it on a Flesh Crawler, but was too nervous to take a side trip to the barbarian village of Gunnarsgrunn to test it out for certain. He lowered his hand, allowing the amulet to clank loudly against his armor. Already he missed Zeta's endless talking and boy could that Scorpion talk. There were times his talking drove Lance absolutely insane.
Lance wondered how much distance the bat had covered already. He wouldn't be surprised if the bat was already back in Darkmeyer. There was something unnatural about those bats that lived in Morytania. They were faster and smarter. It was no wonder the Vampyres used them to send messages. Often times he received a message from Screecher, a regular looking brown bat that belonged to Shadow. The bat always managed to arrive at an amazingly far away location and make time that Lance couldn't imagine. He had never sat down and thought about exactly what time the bat was making, but it had to be far quicker then most anything else could travel. He also wondered why the bat had waited for him outside. Usually, once one of the Vampyre's bats delivered a message, unless they knew the person the message was sent to was going to send one back, they departed immediately. Perhaps the bat had been checking to see if Lance was really going to travel to Morytania or not. If so, then Lance had to credit that bat for having quite the initiative to check on something like that itself.
Thinking about that also made Lance wonder if Lord Drakan could communicate with the bat, if the bat really had been checking such a thing. He had been able to speak with Zeta on a number of occasions without an insect-speak amulet, as had Shadow and any other Vampyre thus far. Would that power extend to bats too? Lance had seen Vampyres in their full-Vampyric form and they were quite bat-like. It wouldn't shock him if they could communicate with bats as well.
Soon Lance found Varrock rising over the horizon. It was comforting for him to know he was approaching a city, a city full of humans, that is. Even though his closest friends were Vampyres, he still found that he didn't like being surrounded by them. Humans were much more comforting. Besides, he was a human too. Lance knew it was much more normal to be surrounded by his own kind.
As he approached the main gate into Varrock, he found the guards staring at him, something that was a trifle on the discomforting side. He wondered what the guards were thinking and found his ascend towards the main gate slowing down. Lance shook his head. He was a white knight of Falador. He knew he shouldn't allow a couple of guards to frighten him. Besides, he had been to Morytania and back, not to mention faced the dreaded Corporeal Beast. What did Lance have to be afraid of?
"Greetings traveler." greeted one of the yellow-clad guards at the main gate of Varrock as Lance drew near. "What brings you to Varrock?"
Lance paused for a moment, wondering if he should tell them the truth and admit that he was going to Morytania or if he should spare them the details and lie. "I'm just passing through on my journey. Thought I'd stop at the Grand Exchange before I continued." He hadn't completely lied to the guard. He was just passing through Varrock and he was going to stop by the Grand Exchange to see if there were any good weapons up for sale. However, he had left out the details of where he was going.
Regardless, the guard seemed to accept what Lance had said. "Many dangers in the world, my friend. Always keep your eyes open." the guard said. Lance had to wonder where the guard thought he was going. "Do you need a horse for the journey? It makes things much faster."
There was absolutely no way in hell that Lance was dragging some poor horse out to Morytania. Although, Lance was still glad the guard had offered. That meant he didn't suspect Lance was going to the land of the dead. Nonetheless, Lance responded, "No thank you. I don't think it would be fair to the horse where I'm going. The horse wouldn't make it."
"Ah, heading to the Wilderness, are we?" the guard asked upon hearing that a horse would not be a welcomed companion for the journey.
Once again, Lance found himself relieved. The guard had thought he was going to the Wilderness. Morytania never crossed his mind, which was no surprise to Lance. Who would be insane enough to willingly travel into Morytania? Sure, let's go with that, Lance thought to himself. It couldn't be any worse then the guard thinking he was going to Morytania. "Indeed I am. It will be quite the dangerous journey for me."
The guard shook his head and added, "You might not return." If only the guard had known just how true what he said really was. "I wish you luck on your journey. Where you're going, you'll certainly need it. If you happen to stop by Edgeville, be cautious of a camp of Outlaws set up nearby. Personally, I think that Lucien character has something to do with their appearance, but nobody believes me. Mark my words, something's going on in Edgeville. If you're passing through there, watch your step."
Edgeville was a common stopping place for people who were traveling into the dangerous lands of the Wilderness. It was a pretty disgusting town. Most of the people in Edgeville were homeless people and the guards at Edgeville gave everyone a couple of suspicious glances as they walked down the street. There were plenty of mysterious people living there and nobody generally asked about its inhabitants. It was the perfect place for someone looking to find an escape from their past. Lance knew a Highwayman who occasionally stopped in Edgeville. Nobody gave him a second glance, as usual. Not that Lance would admit knowing him, since the Highwayman was apparently still robbing people of their items every now and then. His claims to be out of the job were far fetched.
"I'll keep that in mind." Lance agreed to the guard, taking a cautious step forward in case the guard had anything else to say or do before allowing Lance entry into the city. However, the guard made no motion to stop Lance, so the knight entered the city.
Lance immediately headed for the Grand Exchange, wanting to hurry up and leave before someone started wondering what a white knight of Falador was doing so far away from home. He knew that once he left Varrock and began his journey to Morytania there would be nobody to bother him. Until then, however, there was plenty of reason to question Lance's motives. Not that it mattered that he was going to Morytania; it was just that there were some things better off left unknown.
Halfway on his journey to the Grand Exchange, a man rushed out from a hidden alleyway. He took Lance completely off guard and frightened the knight slightly. "Hey, you!" called the hideous man. Lance backed away from the man, for he was a disgusting mess. He smelled slightly of old tuna, too. "Spare a gold piece for a poor old beggar?"
"Why don't you go kill a goblin for gold or something?" Lance hissed, for he never gave gold to beggars. "I don't have anything for you." For a moment, Lance thought the beggar wasn't going to leave him alone. "Go on, be on your way. Leave me be."
"Cheapskate." growled the beggar before skulking back into his alleyway. Lance didn't really care what the musky beggar thought of him. He earned his gold fairly and there wasn't a chance in the world that he was going to give it up to someone who hid in an alleyway and impatiently waited for someone to pass by so he could beg for money. Far as Lance was concerned, beggars needed to get a job.
Lance shook his head, trying to shake away the recent memory of being bothered by the beggar. He just wanted to leave Varrock behind him. Lance turned a corner, passing by a fortune telling tent. He couldn't help but scoff as he saw a line of people eagerly waiting to get their fortunes read. Fortune telling was a bunch of garbage in Lance's eyes. What was the point? It wasn't as though anything a fortune teller foretold was true. He remembered Shadow had been to this very fortune teller and she told her she was going to see a world ruled by Vampyres. Lance shuddered to think that ever being true. He knew the Vampyres were eager to cross the River Salve and many had already figured out a way past its holy barrier. Lance couldn't imagine what would happen if an entire army crossed the holy barrier. It couldn't happen. Could it? Lance shuddered, finding solace in the belief that fortune telling was bogus.
After passing by a highly active bank, Lance found himself standing in front of the path to the Grand Exchange. Even from where he was standing he could hear the voices from the crowds of people he could clearly see in the Grand Exchange. It was a popular meeting spot for adventures and people of all hobbies. You could buy or sell anything there. Some people got far too obsessed with the Grand Exchange for their own good.
Lance pushed his way through the crowds of people into the Grand Exchange. All he wanted to do was see if there were any dragon spears for sale. Shadow had once advised him to buy a dragon spear and poison its tip. She had told him it would be a very effective method of slaying strange creatures and people alike and that the spears were rather cheap for being made of dragon metal. Lance had never bothered to ask Shadow how she knew so very much about dragon spears. He just believed her.
Pushing past more people, Lance approached the counter to the Grand Exchange, completely overlooking the mysterious man that had eyed him upon entry to the Grand Exchange. "Excuse me." Lance began, leaning on the counter and looking the Grand Exchange clerk right in the eye.
"Welcome to Varrock's Grang Exchange." greeted the clerk as normal. "Are you here to buy or sell an item?"
"Buy." Lance answered simply, knowing that it was regular for the clerks to ask such straightforward question. Before the Grand Exchange clerk could ask the knight what he was buying, Lance added, "I'm looking for a dragon spear and possibly some weapon poison too. A friend of mine who knows quite a bit about spears advised me to buy one."
The Grand Exchange clerk picked up a list of weapons, piecing through it to see if there were any dragon spears available. "Well, there appears to be one available right now. A seller from a kingdom far away, which remains unknown, happens to be selling a dragon spear. It costs 40,000 gold, but the weapon's already poisoned for you. Interested?"
Lance took a moment to look in his money pouch. He wasn't accustomed to carrying around lots of gold with him, but it just so happened that he was carrying just enough for the weapon. "Hmm… 40,000 gold, you say." He paused for a moment, wondering if it was worth it to spend the extra gold to get a weapon already poisoned. He knew that people often advised against buying a weapon from someone who refuses to say who they are or where they're from. However, Lance didn't think he'd get another chance to buy an already poisoned weapon. He didn't exactly know how to apply weapon poison in the first place. It wasn't something the knights of Falador were taught. "You know what, yes, I'll take the spear." Lance threw a bag of gold on the table, which contained just enough gold to cover the cost.
"Alright, just give me a moment." said the Grand Exchange clerk, who turned around to meet with another Grand Exchange clerk. "Hey, do you know where that poisoned dragon spear is. We've got a buyer."
"You mean the one Mr. Klause was selling?" asked the other clerk, to which he received a nod in response from. "Yeah, it's back here. Hold on, let me get it." Lance nearly choked when he heard the name of the seller. Surely it couldn't be Vanstrom selling a dragon spear. Why would Vanstrom need human money? Furthermore, why would he bother selling a cheap spear? Lance shook his head, figuring it was just an ironic matching of last names. "Here it is."
The first Grand Exchange clerk took the red tipped spear from the other, overlooking it to make sure it was the right item. The very tip of the spear showed a light green hue, which Lance knew was what poisoned weapons looked like. "Here is the dragon spear. Would you like to carry it with you or should we bank the item?"
Lance knew that he would be unable to carry both a sword and a spear with him at the same time and knowing the spear wouldn't help him in Morytania, Lance answered, "Bank it, if you will." The Grand Exchange clerk nodded quietly and carried the spear to another man. The two of them spoke about the spear as Lance backed away from the desk quietly.
In fact, Lance wasn't even watching where he was backing up into. He suddenly backed into someone else, turning around swiftly to apologize to the person. He was shocked to see a rather old man standing behind him. Usually, the older generation avoided the Grand Exchange, claiming they didn't need all this newfangled garbage to buy, sell, and obtain items. "Hello there." the man greeted and Lance already found himself not liking this man. "I work for Mr. Klause." Lance shuddered at that name again. "Would you have any Blood, Nature, or Cosmic runes you're willing to sell? My client is willing to offer twice what the Grand Exchange pays." There was the name again. Was it really Vanstrom? What would he need Blood, Nature, and Cosmic runes for? What kind of spell would he cast?
Somehow finding himself interested in whether or not it was Vanstrom buying and selling these items or someone else, Lance asked, "How many does he need?"
"1,000 blood, 500 nature, and 200 cosmic." the man answered, appearing eager that Lance would have some runes available, which seemed unlikely.
Lance found himself amazed that anyone would collect runes in such a mass. He knew for a fact that even with the discovery of the rune essence and the ability to runecraft that runes were still a rarity. He had heard it straight from the wizards at the Wizard Tower. Why would anyone want so many runes. "Does your client have a first name?"
The mysterious man nodded eagerly, as though he thought he were really going to get some runes out of Lance. "Yes he does. However, he prefers that people use his last name. That's what he tells the clerks his name is and that's what he told me to call him by."
"Can you tell me his first name?" Lance asked hopefully, wanting to confirm once and for all who this person was. Every beating second Lance became more convinced that it really was Vanstrom. Mysterious circumstances were appearing and Lance had known Vanstrom to travel through the rest of the world under the name Mr. Klause before. He had to confirm whether or not it was Vanstrom.
Unfortunately for Lance, the man shook his head. "Sorry, Mr. Klause asked that I not give out his first name. Now, have you got any runes I can buy or not?" Lance sighed, knowing he was getting nowhere with this mysterious old man.
"No, I don't." Lance finally answered, backing away from the man before he could ask any more questions. Even though the man had refused to give out a first name, Lance was still convinced it was Vanstrom. He couldn't quite figure out what Vanstrom was doing buying runes in such mass numbers, but he had convinced himself that Vanstrom was up to something. All of a sudden, he felt fearful for his journey to Morytania. Somehow, he imagined Vanstrom had something to do with this journey.
Suddenly, Lance felt like he had to leave the Grand Exchange as quickly as possible, and that was exactly what he did too. Lance didn't quit moving until he was far away from the Grand Exchange. He stood in the main marketplace to Varrock now, staring at the fountain as it peacefully spewed water. Someone bumped into Lance and caused him to jump out of his skin. The person, who turned out to be a local dwarf, quickly apologized, realizing how badly he had frightened Lance, though he didn't know why, and quickly returned to what he was doing. Lance heaved a sigh, lowering himself to his knees as he splashed water from the fountain in his face. He stared at his reflection in the water, deciding that more then anything, he just wanted to leave Varrock.
That was exactly what Lance did too. He quickly fled from Varrock and the memory of the creepy old man at the Grand Exchange. He slowed down as he exited the city. The path to Paterdomus was a lonely one. There was a work site across from the path and occasionally people would exit through the work site's main gate, but they would always head straight into Varrock. Nobody walked the same path Lance stood on. The only humans on the path were the guards watching Varrock's eastern gate and even they were far behind him. Lance knew there was a lumber mill further up the path, but he also knew he would be taking the eastern path before he reached the lumber mill.
Lance paused in front of a gate which blocked the eastern path. He knew that gate was put there so nobody would foolishly wander in Morytania. There was a sign next to the gate that warned people Morytania was ahead. Lance knew he would have to go inside, though. So without another thought, he yanked open the gate with a screech and continued up the path.
As Lance walked down the path, many small bats flew past him. Even in the bright daylight, these bats still flew, probably because the gloom of Morytania was close by. He often searched to see if one of the bats was white, but they were always either black or brown.
Lance paused halfway down the path, glancing at the split in the path. He knew there was an old man living in these parts who was obsessed with collecting bones and that would be the only kind life he would find on his journey to Morytania.
The temple which laid ahead of him, Paterdomus, had been taken over by Zamorakian monks a long time ago and they were generally unkind to anyone who didn't loyally serve Zamorak, the god of chaos. As a knight of Falador, Lance was bound to the service of Saradomin, the god of peace and enemy god of Zamorak. To make things simple, the Zamorakian monks wouldn't welcome him. There used to be an underground path, but it had been sealed off by a monk named Drezel to prevent the Zamorakian monks from accessing it and damning the river. The last thing anyone needed was anything that lived in Morytania crossing over the river. The only way to get into Morytania now was to cross the bridge, which had appeared by unknown circumstances. The Zamorakian monks were always keeping a close eye on the bridge, but Lance knew it was possible to cross the bridge without being spotted. He had done it many times before.
Lance stepped foot on the bridge, glancing anxiously at the nearby temple to see if anyone was watching. So far had been good, for none of the Zamorakian monks were paying attention. Lance had never liked this bridge. Nobody could explain where it came from and on the off chance Lance had gotten to speak to anyone about it, they all seemed too afraid to talk about it. Even the Werewolves of Canifis didn't appear willing to talk about the mysterious bridge.
Halfway across the bridge, Lance had just barely been missed by a blast of fire magic. Lance leapt frightfully to the side, glancing up to see what had attacked him. A man dressed in bright red robes leaned out the window facing the bridge, his hands held out towards Lance. He was one of the Zamorakian monks, no doubt, and Lance knew he would not be pleased that he was trying to cross the bridge.
Realizing he was under attack, Lance broke out into a run, dodging the blasts of fire that were being shot at him. He didn't allow himself to slow down, knowing that he had to get into Morytania as quickly as possible. Another blast of fire just barely missed him as he rushed towards the end of the bridge. However, before Lance could get off the bridge, a blast of fire connected with him and he stumbled backwards slightly, caught off guard by the attack. Before he could recover completely, the Zamorakian monk shot another blast of fire at Lance, causing him to stumble off the bridge and collapse into the River Salve below. Lance could just barely hear the monk's maniacal laughter over the furious rushing of the water of the River Salve.
Lance fought against the river current, trying to swim to the shore before he was sucked into the underwater cavern which passed underneath Paterdomus, for he would surely drown if he was sucked in there. Luckily for Lance, his hand reached the shore just before that happened. He struggled to pull himself out from the furious river, rolling over on his back and breathing heavily once he was finally on shore. He knew there was no way the Zamorakian monk could see that he had swam to safety. Currently, the monk was probably laughing with his friends about the knight he just drowned.
Nervously, Lance climbed away from the river as he dripped dirty water on the dirt below, forming mud. The water rolled right off his armor, thought the clothing he wore underneath were now soaked. Lance's hair was dripping dirty water too, which was all the more disgusting. He glanced at the disgusting river behind him. It was amusing to Lance to think that the River Salve was a blessed river, since it was one of the yuckiest rivers he had laid eyes on. The water was dyed a deep brown and branches washed through the water as they were sucked underneath its surface.
Trying to shake off the fact that he almost drowned in a blessed river, Lance rose to his feet, trying to brush off the feeling of fear. He knew that Canifis was nearby and right now, more then anything, Lance just wanted to lay down and relax. The citizens of Canifis knew he was friends with Vampyres and thus were very welcoming to him, unlike how they treated any other visitor who was foolish enough to think they would find solace in Canifis.
It didn't take Lance long to arrive in Canifis, for the isolated village existed very close to the River Salve. It was so close that it unnerved many of Varrock's citizens, for they were always fearful that the Zamorakian monks would find a way to help the wolfish demons cross over the barrier safely. Canifis was a village isolated on an island in the swamp with only two ways out, far as anyone was concerned. Some of Canifis' citizens knew other ways, but nobody outside of Canifis did, not even the Vampyres.
"Hello human." growled a deep voice behind Lance suddenly. "You appear to have lost your way." Lance turned around to see a dark brown Werewolf standing behind him. This Werewolf appeared to be in full wolf form and that always unnerved Lance. "How unfortunate that you have wandered upon Canifis. You will find no safety here." The Werewolf opened his mouth, revealing long rows of jagged teeth, which were yellowed.
Lance tried to show no fear towards the Werewolf, as he was supposed to be here. "Hold on just a moment before you try and eat me." Lance said, which caused the Werewolf to tilt its head to the side ever so slightly. "My name is Lance Cheyne. I have been to Morytania several times before. I have been called here by Lord Drakan himself."
Instead of trying to prove hopelessly to the Werewolf that he was called to Morytania, he instead held out the parchment which Lord Drakan had sent him, hoping it would prove to the wolfish monster that he was supposed to be here. The Werewolf eyed Lance suspiciously, his vicious red eyes darting to the parchment, then back up to Lance. Nonetheless, the Werewolf took the parchment and silently read it over. Lance waited patiently as the Werewolf read the parchment.
Finally, the Werewolf pushed the parchment back at Lance with a furious snarl and for a moment Lance thought the Werewolf was going to ignore the parchment. "You're lucky, human. You have Lord Drakan's word backing you up. It's a shame; I wanted to see what you tasted like." Lance shuddered as the Werewolf shook his head. "Oh well. Come with me. I'm certain you'll want to rest after your journey to Canifis. I shall take you to the Hair of the Dog Tavern."
"Thank you." Lance said, following the wolfish monster as he guided the knight through the village. Lance glanced around Canifis, noticing that it really hadn't changed since he had last been around. It was still surrounded by the swamp and mysterious lights still lifted up from nowhere and dimly lit the otherwise gloomy land of Morytania.
The Werewolf stopped in front of a building made of old wood. It was a rather dull building, though Lance always found himself amazed that it managed to stand. The wolfish monster motioned for him to enter the building and it only took Lance a couple of moments to realize that the Werewolf had no intention on entering the tavern with him. Thereupon, Lance stepped away from the Werewolf, who seemed to be observing him with a hungry expression on his face. Lance was glad to leave the Werewolf behind as he entered the tavern.
"Well, well, look who we've got here." Roavar smirked the moment Lance entered his tavern. "It seems you've come to Canifis once again. You come here often for a human. What can I do you for this time?" Roavar, as usual, was very relaxed with Lance's presence in the tavern and why shouldn't he be? He had serviced Lance on more then one occasion.
"I've come here on account of Lord Drakan. I have been called to Darkmeyer to stand trial, apparently." Lance explained, figuring that if he wasn't specific with Roavar, the Werewolf bartender would simply ask to see proof and would read the parchment, discovering everything on his own. "However, I have been traveling for quite some time and would like to rest for the night, if you don't mind."
Roavar laughed and for a moment, that unnerved Lance. "Come closer." he called to the knight. Uncertain what Roavar could want, but knowing it foolish to ignore a direct request, Lance neared the Werewolf bartender. However, it wasn't close enough for Roavar, for he signaled for Lance to draw closer. Lance obediently moved closer until he was standing directly in front of the counter. "Good." Lance glanced curiously as Roavar lowered himself, coming back up with a glass filled with unknown liquid. He sat the glass in front of Lance, who glanced uncertainly at it. "Well? Are you going to take it? It isn't poison and it isn't from the Vampyre's stash, if you're wondering. It's just ale. You don't think us Werewolves want to drink the same garbage the Vampyres drink, do you?"
Though a bit uncertain, Lance accepted the drink, thankfully gulping down the liquid, which aside from being prepared by a Werewolf, didn't taste any different. "Yes, but why offer me a drink? I'm merely a human."
"A human who is welcomed in Canifis. Master Malak would want me to service you just as though you were one of us." Roavar explained, reaching down, but never taking his eye off of Lance. As Lance finished off the ale which had been presented to him, Roavar sat a key in front of him and Lance eyed it suspiciously. "The key isn't going to rear up and bite you. It's just a key to a room. You wanted to stay here the night, did you not?"
"Yes, I did." Lance answered, uncertainly looking Roavar over. "Why be so nice to me, though? I may be welcomed in Canifis, but that doesn't mean you have to treat me so kindly."
Roaver lifted an eyebrow at Lance, eyeing him curiously as though he were uttering insanities. "Would you prefer that I be rude to you?" Lance shook his head at Roavar. "Then you'd best stop complaining. Anyways, you appear nervous and I can tell this quite easily. Whatever Lord Drakan wants you to stand trial for, you must be frightened of times ahead, are you not?"
Lance lowered his glass on the counter, sighing as he looked inside the empty glass, as though he hoped liquid would magically appear inside. "I am standing trial for treachery against the Vampyres. Only, I don't know what treachery I committed. Lord Drakan claims I have removed something from Morytania, but I most certainly haven't. I don't know how I'm supposed to explain to him that I didn't remove anything from Morytania."
Roavar glanced around the room, almost as though he were looking for someone. He then lowered his head and spoke to Lance quietly. "I'm going to give you some free advise, because frankly, I like you." Roavar began ever so silently, leaning forward. "Don't bother trying to convince him you didn't take whatever he claims you stole, because it won't achieve anything. Best thing to do is try and figure out what he thinks you stole and find a replacement for it. Lord Drakan is a tough man, as I feel you already know. I can only wish you luck on your trial. Try not to anger him, will you?" When Lance said nothing and only lowered his head dejectedly, Roavar added, "Perhaps it's better you sleep the thought off. You're facing Lord Drakan tomorrow, am I correct?"
"Correct." Lance responded, wondering what the Werewolf could possibly have to add to the fact that Lance had to stand trial.
"Well, I already offered my advise." Roaver said, pushing a wet rag into a glass he was holding in order to scrub it clean. "I'm not going to pretend like I have all the answers, because frankly, I don't. Just rest and worry about your problems tomorrow. I wish you luck in facing Lord Drakan." Lance silently thanked the Werewolf. "Sleep well, human."
Lance took the key off the table, pushing the empty glass closer to Roavar as he backed away. He then headed up the staircase, knowing that Roavar was right. There was really nothing he could do about it, not tonight, anyways. So he decided the best thing to do was to simply head upstairs and attempt to sleep off the thought. He could worry about what would happen tomorrow. Before Lance could reach the top of the stairs, he thought he heard a voice calling to him. He paused, turning around.
For a moment, Lance thought he had imagined someone talking to him. Nonetheless, he backed up down the stairs, checking to see if anyone had spoken to him. "Human." he heard Roavar calling to him. Lance wondered if Roavar knew his name and just didn't bother to use it or if he had absolutely no idea what Lance's name even was.
Climbing halfway down the stairs, Lance inquired, "Yes?" He didn't quite feel like climbing all the way down unless he absolutely had to.
"This room is on the house, as is your drink." Roavar responded calmly, continuing to mindlessly clean the glass. The way he cleaned the glass as he spoke, it was almost as if the two tasks were combined, that speaking and cleaning were all one task. "I'll prepare a drink for you tomorrow morning before you depart and that one will be on the house as well. Anything beyond that, you'll have to pay."
Lance nodded, responding, "Alright." He waited a moment, making certain the Werewolf didn't want anything else. When Roavar lowered his head and went back to cleaning the glass, Lance decided that he was no longer wanted and turned back around, heading up the stairs. Lance reached the top of the stairs, wondering what room was his. It took him three tries, but he finally found it.
Lance jumped on the bed, laying on his back with his arms spread. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, wondering what would happen tomorrow. He knew everything that Roavar had said was true. Arguing with Lord Drakan would yield no response, at least not a positive one. However, what else was he supposed to do. Lance tried to think of other things, allowing images of his closest friends to swarm into his mind. As these images took control of his thoughts, Lance's eyes fluttered shut and soon he found himself drifting quietly off to sleep.
