Tall buildings loomed left and right, windows shattered and bricks crumbling. Long lines of wet laundry hovered above, dripping water onto the messy street below. This was the bad part of town, where Ragna had somehow become lost.
It had all started when he wandered north from Lumbridge, traveling along a path that led past farms and pastures full of cows. Along the way he slew several goblins, a proud achievement.
After a while he saw city gates peering out from behind a hill. This was Varrock, according to his Newcomer's Map. The city would be a good place to look for adventuring quests. However, as he approached, a green ball of energy shot down from the top of the nearby hill, striking him in the back with a painful splattering noise.
Ragna stopped walking and stood still, confused. Then he heard a whoosh and another ball was headed towards him. With a loud yelp of distress, he broke into a run and dashed frantically into the city, but the ball continued to follow closely behind him. It gained on him as he rounded a corner. Just before it seemed it would finally do him in, the green orb disappeared. No dramatic pop or poof; it just stopped existing.
Surprised but relieved, Ragna continued in the direction he was going, until he realized he could not find the city gates again. He was lost.
But then again, he thought, I've never been here before. Of course I wouldn't be able to find my way around. May as well think of it as exploring.
So he explored. He found a crowded apothecary, where a man spoke strange words to make people disappear. North of there he found a fascinating museum filled with ancient artifacts and even a mummy. Then he found a church, where he stopped to pray for a moment.
The most interesting thing was found last. Just outside of city limits was a large group of people that appeared to be fighting. Ragna stood a few feet away from them, separated from the fray by a shallow ditch. He watched for a moment before deciding to join the battle. The more powerful fighters were dropping valuables as they fell, and even if he was a poor fighter, Ragna figured he could at least grab some rare items.
He neared the barrier ditch and stepped over, warily watching for attacks. His sword was grasped tightly in his hand, ready to spring out in self-defense, if need be. Luckily, no weapon was needed. The fighters did not seem to notice the new arrival, let alone attack him. Also, every time Ragna tried to join the brawl, someone yelled at him.
"You cannot attack this person. Their level is too high," the voice boomed. Despite his best efforts, Ragna could not find the source of the voice. Eventually, he decided the best course of action would be to leave. He would continue north, slipping past the melee and into the darkness beyond.
As he progressed, his surroundings became bleak. People became sparse, as did trees, grass, and sunlight. A general feeling of peril filled Ragna's mind; it was as though at any moment could bring an ambush; as if every step brought him into deeper danger.
Eventually he came across a decrepit old cemetery in the middle of nowhere. Inside of it's gates were weathered headstones and spindly, twisted trees that were like dark skeletons rising from the gloom. Ragna thought he saw something else inside-but no, it couldn't be. Could it?
He walked closer until he could reach out and touch the cemetery fence. Quietly he waited and watched. A chill crept down his spine as he realized what he was seeing. Misty white figures were moving across the graveyard.
Ghosts. Genuine, true-blue ghosts.
As if in a daze, Ragna wandered forward, blankly staring at the apparitions around him. Then the attack came. Before he knew what was happening, a ghost was flying at him, hissing a horrible cry into the silent air. It's long fingers cut into Ragna's side, sending a spray of blood onto the headstone behind him. "NO!" he cried, raising his arms to defend against the next strike. He cringed, waiting to feel his skin torn open again, that horrible burning sensation that could only be brought on by an open wound. It did not come.
"Huh?" He opened his eyes, (which he had closed a moment before) to see the ghost floating away from him, screeching it's war cry again. Through the phantom's transparent body, Ragna could see the figure of a person standing at the other end of the graveyard.
"Run!" the person yelled. Ragna ran.
Once he arrived to safety he collapsed to the ground, clutching his wound and panting like a dog. The cut was not a deep one; in fact, a simple bandage would probably take care of it. As he began to wrap it with the end of his Red Cape, he heard footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw the person who saved him.
"Lol i killed it." She was a tall archer with pigtailed blue hair.
"Thank you for saving me, my lady." Ragna bowed low to show his gratitude.
"No prob," she said. "U shud leave the wildy. Ur only lvl 3."
He looked up. "What do you mean?" he asked, but she was already walking away. Shrugging, he stood and continued onward, past the graveyard. He walked far, passing many interesting creatures and places. Whenever he passed a monster, he was careful to maintain a safe distance. No need for more injuries.
While he traveled, he picked up numerous treasures. He found a sapphire, thanks to a little blue sparkle that shone through the dust on the ground. He found steel plate legs, which he immediately put on. He found heaps and heaps of runes on a swampy hill, among other things. Yes, I am going to be rich, he thought, smiling.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, he noticed a figure on the horizon. "Hello, friend!" he called, raising his hand in greeting. The person began moving towards him, at quite a fast speed. "Splendid day for a journey, no?" Ragna grinned. The person did not respond, but continued running. Suddenly, Ragna had a dreadful feeling pooling in his stomach. The other person was brandishing a broadsword in his hand, and wore a menacing expression on his face.
Ragna's bad feeling wasn't for nothing, as the man approached he swung the sword, barely missing Ragna. Instantly Ragna was on the offense. He was a tornado, whirling around his assailant with a flurry of measured stabs from his own sword. He darted and slashed and swiped with great intensity. It didn't seem to have any effect.
The assailant swung his weapon with great strength, and despite Ragna's swift evasions, it clouted him in the side and everything went dark.
When he awoke, Ragna was back in the courtyard at Lumbridge. All his items were gone. "DAMMIT!" he shouted to the sky.