Chapter Twelve

Fear Precedes Rage

Kryarn passed Hawkfeather's order onto Kysin, then stretched his arms out and concentrated. A purple shield surrounded him, and he shrunk. He had experienced this strange feeling before. He shut his eyes, and concentrated hard on Ardougne marketplace.

On his first few attempts at teleportation, curiosity had kept his eyes wide open during movement. On the quick journey between two different places, he had glimpsed a dull red, nightmarish world.

After a few times of viewing this place from the speed of teleportation, he had been able to pick out creatures, strange creatures the same tone of blood as their surroundings. But eventually, fear had overcome curiosity. Kryarn naturally feared what he didn't understand, and what he saw were enough to invoke fear in the known Gods themselves. He had long since learned to keep his eyes closed.

This time was the same as any other. Kryarn outstretched his arms, closed his eyes and shrunk. He felt himself spin through space, and land. Even with his eyes closed, it was now he sensed that something was wrong. The ground beneath his feet, it wasn't the hard pavement of Ardougne marketplace; it was soft like a snail's dead body.

Cautiously he opened one eye a fraction. A world of red swum before his vision... He snapped his eyes open wide, taking in the scene that had haunted his dreams since he had teleported for the very first time.

Kryarn was a level 79 warrior. He had survived demon-hunts, dragons, ghosts, undead brothers, crows, traps, poison... He had braved them all fearlessly. But he had never liked bugs, or spiders. One only had to suggest a Kalphite-hunt to watch his face pale into light green. His nightmares were filled with spiders, especially the huge black one in the underground pass... Morak had eventually consented to slay the beast for him.

And this place... it reminded him horribly of the Kalphite Queen's lair, even with the dull red overlying everything. On the ground... near him he could see... it wasn't the ground... it was things... little red things that were approaching him fast. To Kryarn, these creatures definitely came under the heading of 'scary bugs'. Frightened as he was, Kryarn reacted like almost anyone would to such fear. He screamed. Loud and high.

He looked around at the void in which he had landed. That which he had at first taken to be large lumps of, for lack of better word, ground was moving. Kryarn shrank bank against the squishy wall, his mouth open, terror preventing his scream from continuing. The lumps were moving, they were rising. And they had legs and a head... and eyes... that were turned towards the human yell that had invaded their territory.

Noticing Kryarn, by sight, sound or smell, they advanced upon him. Too scared to scream, too terrified to fight or run, Kryarn sat there and stared at the aliens approaching. But fear lends wings to everyone's feet, allowing us to run much faster than we would normally. And desperation works in the same way, on our minds. The simple answer may have seemed obvious to most, but most are not distracted by the sight of aggressive blood-red aliens.

Grabbing out a random handful of runes, Kryarn outstretched his arms, and shrunk. He got one last glimpse of a large mechanical head towering over him, and the floor wriggling with hundreds of thirsty leeches. A scene that he would unwillingly recall for the rest of his time. Then it was gone. Gone, replaced with a small town square, dominated by a demolished building in the middle of a moat.

Falador. Even when ruined, it was not hard to recognize this once-beautiful city. Heart beating wildly from the shock he had just received, Kryarn pulled out four runes, intending to continue on to Ardougne. He was about to teleport when the memory returned. Mechanical aliens, bugs in a world of blood... Pocketing the runes, Kryarn decided that he'd rather walk than risk facing that again. To the south there was Port Sarim; the ship would take him to Karamja where he would cross to Brimhaven and take the boat to Ardougne from there.

Negotiating his way around stones, bricks and splintered wood, Kryarn journeyed in the general direction of Port Sarim.

As soon as he was out of the deserted ruins of Falador, Kryarn broke into a run. He passed the farmhouse, which was still erect and untouched. Ahead of him he could see Port Sarim... or what once was Port Sarim. The sea port hadn't changed much since Zanathir had visited it less than a week ago. Wormbrain and Redbeard Frank were the only two living creatures there. Their heads were down, both of them. Wandering about aimlessly. Unbidden, a fleeting memory sprang to Kryarn's mind... a noob level 5 archer... firing a bronze arrow at his throat... him standing there helpless and uncaring...

And then he had woken up in Falador, where he had traveled north to Edgeville, and from there into the wilderness where he met Bio and Kysin. After trying to wake the pirate and the goblin, Kryarn realized that the only possible way to bring them back to their normal state of mind...

Powerful as he was, Kryarn hated, and avoided entirely, killing or attacking defenseless creatures. But it might've been his recent scare in the abyss, or the realization that they would thank him for it later, or a combination of all the events that had occurred throughout the previous week that made him do it. He locked his hands around Redbeard Frank's throat, and squeezed hard. The pirate stared up at him with shallow, uncaring eyes as Kryarn, sickened by what he was doing, throttled the life out of him.

It seemed an age to Kryarn, but was less than a minute, before the pirate shuddered and went limp. Kryarn pulled his hands away and jumped back, horrified at what he had just done. The corpse lay there for a minute and disappeared, leaving a handful of bones. Kryarn gave a shuddering sigh of relief and buried the bones. He looked over at Wormbrain and decided not to strangle the goblin. It wasn't like he was missing out on much, or worth the same anyway.

"Arr matey! What'a you done to me rum?" Kryarn jumped slightly, the voice coming from directly behind him.

"Um...rum? I haven't done anything... Hey do you have a ship, or a boat or something to take me to Karamja?" Kryarn answered to Frank's question.

"Arr Karamja. Good rum thems 'ave got over thar, the very bestest. Wouldn't 'ave gotten ye old mate Frank some more o' the good stuff would ye?"

Kryarn took a deep breathe. He had found the pirate's weakness, and now was the time to appeal to it.

With a disarmingly self-confident smile, Kryarn clapped the pirate on the shoulder and said, "Between you and me mate, the ship to Karamja, it ain't coming to Port Sarim no more, cause there's no Port Sarim left for it to come to. And the pub here, it's gone as any little peeper could show ye. There's really a nasty chance o' any good stuff here... But Karamja, it's got a good pub there I hear tell. Let's go to Karamja, the both of us... once we get there, I'll buy ye the best rum on the whole island."

The pirate stood there, and blinked. Kryarn's mounting frustration, mingled with fear and horror was well-hidden, deep inside the smiling, self-confident youth that the pirate saw.

For all of another ten minutes Kryarn stood there, smiling. Gesturing, trying to persuade one far duller than himself. All Kryarn's effort was going into concealing his real emotions, and convey entirely different ones to the pirate with the one-track mind standing before him. Redbeard Frank, well, his mind was as always, on his drink.

Thus none of them noticed the lithe little figure crouching down behind the wall that separated Port Sarim from Draynor village.

Luthandros had trailed Kysin's tracks northwards to the point of entering the wilderness itself. He had gone about fourteen steps into that cursed land before his leg was jerked upwards exactly the same as Kysin's had been. Unlike Kysin though, Luthandros didn't believe in leaving things exactly how he had found them. Pulling out his rune scimitar, he had slashed viciously at the rope until it gave way and he crashed to the ground. This event was enough to deter him from entering the wilderness again.

While patrolling the borders of the Wilderness, Luthandros gathered from those posted in Edgeville that another enemy had been trapped but later rescued by a friend. The description he had gleaned of the one who had been trapped near Edgeville matched the smiling youth who stood before him now, gesturing and talking to the red-haired pirate.

While in Edgeville, Luthandros had engaged in one of those fights which he found it so difficult to stay out of. The result had been his instant transportation to Lumbridge, and he was now returning to the Wilderness edge, via Falador in order to better avoid Leafdarking's wrath.

On the other side of the wall, in Port Sarim, Luthandros had heard voices. This was odd considering that all available forces were stationed at the borders: Al Karid, the Digsite, Varrock, the Asgarnia/Kandarin wall, the Wilderness... Port Sarim should be deserted. Yet it wasn't. A tall, dark-haired guy was talking to a red-haired pirate. By keeping perfectly still and concentrating hard, Luthandros could just pick out what the dark-haired one was saying.

He examined the docks carefully. All the big ships were gone. The only seaworthy vessel there was a small rowboat. What an honor it would be if he could actually capture these two enemies... Rorthan would reward him with well for the dark-haired adventurer, as a prisoner.

Luthandros carefully negotiated his way seawards, staying hidden on his side of the wall. He entered the water, and swam through the ruined docks towards the rowboat.

"...You know mate, I really don't understand why you care to stay here, I mean, it's just you alone and no grog. It really ain't that far to Karamja you know..."

"Arr, you wouldn't, little tacker like you. I'm retired, an' 'ere I am stayin'..."

Luthandros could here the two clearly now. Cautiously he pulled out his weapon, and stuck it into the timbers at the bottom of the boat. He twisted the point around slightly, until there was a small hole in the bottom of the boat. Any real weight in that vessel now would cause it to sink. Smiling to himself, Luthandros swam back the way he had come.

"Arr ok kid, where's ye ship gone. I'll sail it to ye island for the grog."

"Great." Kryarn's face smiled, but his eyes remained darkly annoyed at the delay. "Here it is, you take one oar and I'll row the other..."

Luthandros sprinted northwards, as his lazy personality had never permitted before. He came to the giant gates separating Asgarnia from Kandarin, and stopped the first noob mage he met.

"Hey, can you cast Bind?" He asked.

The noob mage nodded.

"Good, follow me then." Luthandros ordered, and turned back the way he came.

"But... hey! Who the hell are you? And when since did you give orders to me?" Questioned the mage indignantly.

Luthandros froze, and turned back to the mage, a look of utmost anger etched upon his tanned face.

"I am your commander you dolt, one of Leafdarking's 'friends'." He paused before the word 'friends' to emphasize what he was saying. "Now. Follow. Me." Without another word, Luthandros turned and stalked back towards Falador, with one backwards glance to ensure that the mage was following. As soon as he was sure the mage was right behind him, he broke into a run, making straight for Port Sarim.

"Arr matey! You gotcha self a leaky tub!"

The mixed feelings of anger, frustration, fear and horror threatened to boil over, to show themselves further than Kryarn's deep-emerald eyes...

The pirate had stopped rowing now, and was putting all his energy into cursing the boat, Kryarn, Port Sarim, the noobs, Kryarn, the lack off rum, Kryarn... It was a difficult task of self-control for Kryarn to refrain from slapping the pirate hard across the face. Instead, he channeled his energy into swimming back to Port Sarim. Still swearing loudly, Redbeard Frank abandoned the waterlogged vessel and followed Kryarn.

"Now... wait for it... wait for it... let them get closer... onto dry land at least... wait for it... NOW!" The noob mage released his spell of binding straight towards a startled Kryarn who was just climbing out of the water. The spell passed Luthandros, who was already sprinting towards Kryarn, and hit its target squarely. Pulling out a rope that he had stolen for such a purpose, Luthandros hastily tied up his immobile victim. Another binding spell passed him and struck the pirate. By the time the effect wore off, Kryarn was bound tightly, hand and foot.

One hard blow from the flat of his rune scimitar was normally enough to knock any victim out - but after five hits Kryarn was still very much awake, his lips drawn back in an uncharacteristic silent snarl of utter hatred. There were very few who had ever seen friendly Kryarn looking remotely this enraged before. Luthandros was taken aback. He himself had seen only a few adventurers looking this angry before, and those were the ones that were best left alone, for they wouldn't forget your face ever...

Pretending he wasn't intimidated by staring Kryarn in the eye, Luthandros did a cruelly accurate impression of Kryarn's face. Kryarn's green eyes blackened with a rage born from the combination of fear, horror, frustration and anger...

Kryarn's unblinking stare was steadily unnerving Luthandros, who averted his eyes quickly.

"Here, gimme that." Luthandros grabbed the noob mage's staff and beat Redbeard Frank around the head with it. The pirate crumpled to the ground, senseless. With some spare rope, Luthandros lashed his prisoner's hands and feet to the staff. With the mage holding one end of the staff and Luthandros the other, they journeyed in the direction of Al Kharid, their silently furious prisoner suspended upside-down between them.