Saryn sped across the green plains at tremendous speed, moving so fast one could barely see him. The reddish-yellow beams of the sun spread gently just above the horizon, like a phoenix who's wings are spread to full width and who's flames shine like fire. The grass was dewy and wet, and the air was cool. Dawn was always beautiful in the lands of Rhun, and the morning was always a comfortable time. Saryn pressed on and on through the moist ground, panting, but always focused with a strong determination in his eyes. He ran for miles at a time, and in a matter of hours he had reached the eastern city of Rarun, a grand spectacle of stone and wood, a showcase for the fine craftsmanship that the men of Rhun possessed. The city was surrounded in stone walls with a tall gate serving as the only gap between the city and the countryside, it being one of the major cities in Rhun, and it was almost impregnable from the outside. Saryn stopped before the gates and gazed up at the magnificent stone structure. It was sturdy and strong, it's roofs vaulted with wood, and narrow arrow slits lined its sheer walls. The gate was barred, for at that time in the fourth age, the men of Rhun were in a dispute with the men of Khand. As Saryn slowly approached the gate, a man called out from the ramparts.
"Ho there! Who goes hither towards the gate of Rarun?" the leather-clad sentry called to Saryn.
"It is I, Saryn Sarethi! Most assuredly thou hast heard of me, for I left here but three days ago in pursuit of some men." he answered.
"Ahh. I have heard tales of your prowess with a blade, master assassin. I shall open the gates"
"We quick about it lad! I am still under contract!" Saryn explained.
Quickly thereafter the heavy iron gate was raised, and Saryn passed through the dirt path under it into the city. Dust was all about the town, for most roads, save for the streets of the Manor District, were not really streets but rather dirt paths. However, the dust mainly kept itself to the paths, and it pestered not the rest of the city.
"Now, where was that accursed tavern?" thought Saryn, scratching his head. As he thought, a plain farmer passed by him carrying two small wooden pales of water. "You there! Where is the Serpent's Tail Tavern?" Saryn inquired in an angry tone.
"Oh, it's just up the street. Wait a minute, aren't you that Saryn fellow? I've heard many tales about you, I have." responded the man.
"Aye, that I am. But now is not the time, sir. I DO have appointments, you know!"
The man suddenly caught the error of his ways in holding the fierce assassin Saryn Sarethi up for idle conversation. "Oh, yes. Yes, so sorry sir!" he nervously blurted out.
"Hmm. Be on your way now." said Saryn, slightly turning his head in the man's direction. Then, turning to his left, he went up the street to the Serpent's Tail.
Saryn pushed open a worn wooden door, and walked into a room filled with ale and rowdy men. Well, except for Saryn's contact, a Jareth Khaazu, who sat in a dark corner in his fine clothing, sipping a tall mug of ale. Mr. Khaazu was a very wealthy proprietor, and he had many holdings throughout the East. Saryn marched over to the round wood table and sat down next to him.
"It is done." he said in a hushed tone.
"Good. Do you have proof? Care to show me?" asked Jareth in his deep, menacing voice.
"Yes. Here..." Saryn said, drawing the small black bag from his pocket. The bottom was now soaked in blood. From it he pulled the two ears, and set them quietly on the table.
"Good. Very good. I can see why you are so well known. I assume you will be expecting your payment now? Very well. It was a pleasure." said Jareth, pulling a large, hefty sack of gold coins from his pocket.
Saryn grabbed the bag and put it inside his cloak. "Thank you. A pleasure it truly was." Saying this, he rose from the table and was about to leave when he heard the deep voice of Jareth from behind him.
"You know. There is another bit of work I have for you, if you are interested."
Saryn stopped walking. "Yes. I'm listening."
"Well, come with me Saryn! Let's go get a drink." Jareth offered.
"Of course." Saryn said, starting his walk across the room to the bar, through all the pipe smoke that cluttered the room, with Jareth following in close pursuit. They reached a stool and sat down.
"One Prairie Oyster. And you'll be having..." said Saryn, turning to Jareth.
"Just a mug of ale, barkeep!" he said amiably to the bartender. "Now," turning to Saryn, "as I was saying, I have a new job for you. Now, this one's a bit different then you're used to, but I'm sure you'll find it quite interesting. I'm sure your familiar with the history? Well, no doubt you've heard of Utumno, the ancient fortress of the Vala Morgoth? Well," said Jareth, his voice lessening into a whisper, "there're rumors of very powerful and very valuable artifacts in those deep, dark pits. And, as you know, I am a collector of ancient artifacts."
"I'm not a thief!" Saryn snapped. Saryn was about to begin talking again when the bartender came over and handed them their drinks.
"Have a good one, eh boys?" said the elderly man, walking away to serve another customer.
"But the pay! Oh the pay! Believe me Saryn, this job is for you!" pleaded Jareth. "Besides, you are the only man alive who could survive the trip down into that evil place. There are things there that should never be seen by mortal or immortal eyes, save for the Valar alone."
"Evil, eh? Fine. I'll go, but you better pay me well Jareth!" Saryn declared, gulping down his drink.
Jareth sighed. "Thank you! You have no idea how much we'll both profit from this! No idea! Here, take this paper and this old map. It should answer most of your questions." said Jareth, drawing a clean, folded, sheet of paper from his pocket.
Saryn took the paper and the map and read silently. The note said this:
"Jareth! I've found it! The ruins of Utumno! The very Utumno we were searching for thirty years ago! I know it's here, that grand sword. That old man couldn't have been lying to us! I saw it with my own eyes! Two strange figures were taking it down into the depths when my crew and myself arrived! I'll dispatch Irorak with this message, and then I'll go into the depths with the rest of my crew! We'll be rich, friend! So bloody rich it'll make you cry! Your friend,
Rashok
The note was dated Year 2, the fourth age.
Saryn put the paper down, and Jareth began to speak. "He was my friend. That note was six years ago. I... I haven't seen another note from his since." Jareth said, looking almost sad.
"Don't give me your damn tears! I'll get this thing for you, and I'll be back in a month or so. I'll meet you here." Saryn said.
"Very well. I'll be right here, Saryn Sarethi. Good luck!" responded Jareth.
"Thank you. Well, I'll be off now." said Saryn, rising from his seat. As he left the Serpent's Tail, he caught the eye of a fair, shapely woman sitting in one of the tables, beneath a brown cloak. He could've sworn that she had heard some of the conversation, but he had no time to bother with her. He approached the door and pushed it open, taking a breath of fresh air to relieve his lungs of the pipe smoke that was so common in bars in the East. After he disappeared from the doorway, the cloaked woman rose from her seat and followed him out the door.
"Ho there! Who goes hither towards the gate of Rarun?" the leather-clad sentry called to Saryn.
"It is I, Saryn Sarethi! Most assuredly thou hast heard of me, for I left here but three days ago in pursuit of some men." he answered.
"Ahh. I have heard tales of your prowess with a blade, master assassin. I shall open the gates"
"We quick about it lad! I am still under contract!" Saryn explained.
Quickly thereafter the heavy iron gate was raised, and Saryn passed through the dirt path under it into the city. Dust was all about the town, for most roads, save for the streets of the Manor District, were not really streets but rather dirt paths. However, the dust mainly kept itself to the paths, and it pestered not the rest of the city.
"Now, where was that accursed tavern?" thought Saryn, scratching his head. As he thought, a plain farmer passed by him carrying two small wooden pales of water. "You there! Where is the Serpent's Tail Tavern?" Saryn inquired in an angry tone.
"Oh, it's just up the street. Wait a minute, aren't you that Saryn fellow? I've heard many tales about you, I have." responded the man.
"Aye, that I am. But now is not the time, sir. I DO have appointments, you know!"
The man suddenly caught the error of his ways in holding the fierce assassin Saryn Sarethi up for idle conversation. "Oh, yes. Yes, so sorry sir!" he nervously blurted out.
"Hmm. Be on your way now." said Saryn, slightly turning his head in the man's direction. Then, turning to his left, he went up the street to the Serpent's Tail.
Saryn pushed open a worn wooden door, and walked into a room filled with ale and rowdy men. Well, except for Saryn's contact, a Jareth Khaazu, who sat in a dark corner in his fine clothing, sipping a tall mug of ale. Mr. Khaazu was a very wealthy proprietor, and he had many holdings throughout the East. Saryn marched over to the round wood table and sat down next to him.
"It is done." he said in a hushed tone.
"Good. Do you have proof? Care to show me?" asked Jareth in his deep, menacing voice.
"Yes. Here..." Saryn said, drawing the small black bag from his pocket. The bottom was now soaked in blood. From it he pulled the two ears, and set them quietly on the table.
"Good. Very good. I can see why you are so well known. I assume you will be expecting your payment now? Very well. It was a pleasure." said Jareth, pulling a large, hefty sack of gold coins from his pocket.
Saryn grabbed the bag and put it inside his cloak. "Thank you. A pleasure it truly was." Saying this, he rose from the table and was about to leave when he heard the deep voice of Jareth from behind him.
"You know. There is another bit of work I have for you, if you are interested."
Saryn stopped walking. "Yes. I'm listening."
"Well, come with me Saryn! Let's go get a drink." Jareth offered.
"Of course." Saryn said, starting his walk across the room to the bar, through all the pipe smoke that cluttered the room, with Jareth following in close pursuit. They reached a stool and sat down.
"One Prairie Oyster. And you'll be having..." said Saryn, turning to Jareth.
"Just a mug of ale, barkeep!" he said amiably to the bartender. "Now," turning to Saryn, "as I was saying, I have a new job for you. Now, this one's a bit different then you're used to, but I'm sure you'll find it quite interesting. I'm sure your familiar with the history? Well, no doubt you've heard of Utumno, the ancient fortress of the Vala Morgoth? Well," said Jareth, his voice lessening into a whisper, "there're rumors of very powerful and very valuable artifacts in those deep, dark pits. And, as you know, I am a collector of ancient artifacts."
"I'm not a thief!" Saryn snapped. Saryn was about to begin talking again when the bartender came over and handed them their drinks.
"Have a good one, eh boys?" said the elderly man, walking away to serve another customer.
"But the pay! Oh the pay! Believe me Saryn, this job is for you!" pleaded Jareth. "Besides, you are the only man alive who could survive the trip down into that evil place. There are things there that should never be seen by mortal or immortal eyes, save for the Valar alone."
"Evil, eh? Fine. I'll go, but you better pay me well Jareth!" Saryn declared, gulping down his drink.
Jareth sighed. "Thank you! You have no idea how much we'll both profit from this! No idea! Here, take this paper and this old map. It should answer most of your questions." said Jareth, drawing a clean, folded, sheet of paper from his pocket.
Saryn took the paper and the map and read silently. The note said this:
"Jareth! I've found it! The ruins of Utumno! The very Utumno we were searching for thirty years ago! I know it's here, that grand sword. That old man couldn't have been lying to us! I saw it with my own eyes! Two strange figures were taking it down into the depths when my crew and myself arrived! I'll dispatch Irorak with this message, and then I'll go into the depths with the rest of my crew! We'll be rich, friend! So bloody rich it'll make you cry! Your friend,
Rashok
The note was dated Year 2, the fourth age.
Saryn put the paper down, and Jareth began to speak. "He was my friend. That note was six years ago. I... I haven't seen another note from his since." Jareth said, looking almost sad.
"Don't give me your damn tears! I'll get this thing for you, and I'll be back in a month or so. I'll meet you here." Saryn said.
"Very well. I'll be right here, Saryn Sarethi. Good luck!" responded Jareth.
"Thank you. Well, I'll be off now." said Saryn, rising from his seat. As he left the Serpent's Tail, he caught the eye of a fair, shapely woman sitting in one of the tables, beneath a brown cloak. He could've sworn that she had heard some of the conversation, but he had no time to bother with her. He approached the door and pushed it open, taking a breath of fresh air to relieve his lungs of the pipe smoke that was so common in bars in the East. After he disappeared from the doorway, the cloaked woman rose from her seat and followed him out the door.