The grand exodus to Varrock includes more than two hundred noobs. There are also at least one hundred middle and high levels who heard about Zamorak's takeover of Lumbridge. I lose count after two hundred, and Hamlet loses count after four hundred. Cheesecracker is leading us and keeping an eye out for danger, so he can't count. A couple of the higher levels (fifties and sixties) are trailing behind Cheesecracker, and the rest of them are bringing up the rear.
Hamlet is walking beside me and appears to be lost in deep thoughts. Meanwhile, I have a finger lingering over Fireheart's name on my Friends list. I can't bear to break the bad news to her. For some reason, the fall of Lumbridge feels like my fault. This unwelcome guilt made me reluctant to message Redseed too. I finally settled for sending a message to Dawn.
"Where are you?" I hope my plaintive words didn't sound too desperate.
"Draynor," comes an immediate message back. "I'm training with my woodcutting pals. Is something wrong?"
I blink at the perceptive assumption. I type in, "Why would you think that?"
"Otherwise, you wouldn't be contacting me. What's the bad news? Redseed and Fireheart will find out eventually!"
Oh fish sticks. I can hear the Pokey Lady's arrogant tone at this very moment. How concerning. With trembling fingers, I put in, "Lumbridge has fallen. Runescapians can attack other Runescapians now."
After a minute of no message, Dawn's reply finally comes, "It's all right. Just don't stay in Lumbridge."
"We're headed to Varrock," I reply.
"Good. Go there and train. Tell Fireheart everything."
My attention is diverted from the Friends list when Hamlet nudges me. "The dark wizards are close," he mutters.
However, I see that the high levels are sending groups of noobs (ten or twelve of them per group) to run to the safety behind Varrock city walls. Bit by bit, our group vanishes into the city until only Cheesecracker, Hamlet and the relatively high levels remain.
I stride over to one of them, a friendly-looking chap. "Thanks for organizing that."
The Runescapian's face contorts into an expression of surprise. "Uh, noob, you might want to run to Varrock before those dark wizards catch sight of you."
Puffing up in anger, I declare, "Yes, I am a noob, but I am also Freak449, commander of…" Wait, what am I commander of?
"Noobs," finishes Hamlet. He jumps when a magical bolt strikes the ground near his feet.
"The wizards are coming! The wizards are coming!" Cheesecracker laughs. Despite his amusement at the imminent terror of dark wizards, my fellow commander runs ahead towards Varrock. GAH! I HATE dark wizards! I believe my least favorite word is dark and combined with wizard, the word's ten times worse!
I flee onto the streets on Varrock, ignoring the puzzled glances of nearby guards. I'm alive! I wasn't terrified for more than a minute. Really. Once I catch my breath in the center of Varrock, I realize our noobs are waiting anxiously in three groups of eighteen for further instructions. I take a gander at them.
Most are young and have hair of wild colors (pink, violet, sky blue and green…take your pick). Several of them are actually female. In any case, all are poorly equipped in the weaponry-and items-to-wear department. What fine troops! I wipe a sentimental tear from my eye.
Cheesecracker nudges me. "Shall I take my unit to train?"
I nod. Hamlet suddenly enters the scene, which is an odd one actually. A bunch of noobs standing around in Varrock Square: most rapt with attention and quiet as the grave. I can't help noticing that the dark hair on Hamlet's head is on fire. It's only a little flame but concerning.
"Hamlet, your head's on fire," Cheesecracker points out with his usual bluntness.
"ARG!" Turning pale, Hamlet smothers the fire with frantic hands. "Damn those dark wizards…"
In a few minutes, we all separate. I'm followed my eighteen eager noobs, and I'll admit I'm at a loss. How does one train? But first…I ask the names of my crew. Heck, it shouldn't be too hard to learn their names.
"Forgen12." I ask if I might call him Forge. He agrees.
"Blackdragon567." Him I dub Blackie.
"Aurora56." A rather pretty level twelve.
"Fluffybunny1." Nice to meet ya, Fluffy.
"Gorgonwrath7." He's a fierce-looking level thirty.
"Gembit42."
"Gnokhead17."
"Lady Posetta."
"Rosegarden2."
"Queen Grae."
"Dolina754."
"Saint Loren." He tells me he has fifty-seven prayer. Whatever that means.
"Jugular778."
"Fritterbug23."
"Goldeneye64."
"Marigold359."
"Hammockhead."
"Bluestar." This noob offers a hand for me to shake. I stare at it for a moment before taking it. His grip is solid, and his expression tells me that he's not power-hungry, embittered or loony. I immediately consider him as a potential second-in-command, but I don't tell him that.
"How do we train?" I ask Bluestar. He ponders for a moment.
"There's a training area near the other bank. A place with training dummies," says Bluestar. I like the honest blue gleam in his eyes. No treachery there. I decide to trust him and to let him lead us to the place.
"What level are you?" challenges Gorgonwrath. He's speaking to Bluestar rather than me. For some reason, I feel overshadowed.
"Eighty-four. What's it to you?" answers Bluestar. His words are aggressive, but his tone is perfectly--what the heck am I going on about tone for? A level eighty-four!
"But…You look like a noob," I stutter. Level EIGHTY-FOUR!
"I'm a noob at heart," declares Bluestar with a grin. "Don't tell me I'm not welcome."
"You're perfectly welcome to join us," twitters Aurora. She seems very taken with Bluestar. He's not bad-looking. I'll give him that. Aurora blinks her dark eyes at me. "We could use high levels to fight Lord Luxon."
At the sound of that name, my heart shudders in fear. "That's true." My heart then sinks. "Bluestar, you should take over our unit. I'm just a noob."
A fleeting look of dismay crosses Bluestar's face. "No. You are the leader. A level doesn't make a great leader. This is your unit, sir. Not mine."
He called me sir…
Even with his refusal to become leader, Bluestar is content to show us the straw-stuffed dummies we can practice on. While a few people hack away at dummies, Bluestar, experienced as he is, demonstrates that we can attack him if not vice versa.
"A slight flaw in Saradomin's work," he jokes, "but I guess not even gods can be perfect."
The high level takes our blows with aplomb. Every now and then, he munches on a slice of pizza. I feel guilty striking at him until I imagine Lord Luxon. That loathsome smile of Luxon's raises the rage in me. How worrying.
I finally desist though Bluestar doesn't seem too battered. "Why are you eating?" I ask. Seems like an odd time for a snack.
"For healing."
"Strange world," I muttered. Eat to heal? I thought it's eat to live? Maybe in some other world. A memory flickers in my mind for a moment of a land different from Runescape. I'm suddenly staring at a square portal, but inside that portal is a screen of the world of Runescape…but I'm somehow outside the screen and looking in!
"Sir?" Bluestar's voice drives the memory away. Back to reality?
"Don't call me 'sir.' My name is Freak." I smile at him and the ones hacking away at him with various weaponry before checking up on the four attacking the dummies. Sparks (it's not spontaneous combustion, I remind myself) are exploding around their heads.
Jugular, Fritterbug, Dolina and Hammockhead pause to grin at me. After returning their smiles, I slip outside the building. Ah, so many at the bank! They have no idea about Luxon's evil intentions. I can warn them, but more than likely, they'd brush my warnings off. After all, I am a noob. Or am I?
I take out the Status thingamabob and click on the flashing icons. Letters flash at me. Sparks explode around my head and I try not flinch away from the bothersome colors.
The Status reads: "Combat Level 10." No way…
Jumping for joy, I re-enter the building. All around me, sparks are exploding. So terrifying! But exhilarating. I catch Bluestar's eye, and he nods.
"What level are you, sir?"
"The name's Freak," I correct him briefly and then I grin. "I'm level ten!"
The other noobs attack me in their joy.
"I'm level twenty now!"
"Level seventeen! WOOT!"
"Twenty-three!"
"I'm level ten!"
"Thirty-two!"
"Fourteen!"
"Eight!"
"Level nine!" Marigold throws her arms around my neck. I indulge her though I can't help thinking of Lady Lore. Be still my heart…
The sound of progress heartens me. What heartens me even more is Bluestar's presence. He reminds me of Fireheart. Blasé. Sensible. Calm. Maybe it's a high level thing. But both Fireheart and Bluestar have something that Lord Luxon lacks: sincerity, integrity and a genuine respect for noobs.
Now, with a sigh, I prepare to focus on one thing: training. Oh bother. The others seem to be enjoying themselves. Why can't I? Maybe my pacifist nature is rebelling against the concept of training by hacking at things.
"Freak?" Bluestar directs his bright smile towards me. I step back into the dummy arena with a silly reluctance. "Is something wrong?"
I shrug. Nope. Training. Business as usual for Runescapians.