Chapter 20: The Nightmare
Osrie1 was mining in the Lumbridge mines. He had a pile of copper and tin at his feet. He was sweating profusely, and his clothes were filthy. He stopped mining, and mopped his sweaty brow. He put his copper and tin in his bag. He was exhausted, and hungry. It seemed like ages ago he had had that wonderful meat pie. His stomach rumbled at the thought.
He wondered what Mainiac97 was up to. He hoped he hadn't encountered another golem, or another three-headed dragon.
He heard a clap of thunder overhead. The clouds looked murky and grey, and for some reason it seemed to have a swirl of black in it. That didn't seem natural. The small amount of people that were mining fled, leaving Osrie1 behind. The skies opened with a rumble, and it poured down with rain.
Osrie1 ran for cover. He ran through the church graveyard, and he ran straight into none other then Madrey1.
"Hey, watch where you're going, you noob!" Madrey1 snapped.
"Sorry sir. Have you seen my friend, Mainiac97?" osrie1 asked, rubbing his stomach.
"Yes I know him. He's a real noob, that one. Try and check the sheep farm, which is where I last saw him. Now get out of my way before I throttle you!" Madrey1 said grumpily, shoving Osrie1 out of the way and stomping off towards the swamp.
Osrie1 rushed into the shop. The newspaper stand had several piles of newspaper on it. The headline was printed up on the stand. It read, 'Three-headed dragon attacks Lumbridge!!' He grabbed a copy, and went up to the clerk. Osrie1 handed him his piles of copper and tin. The clerk saw him holding a copy of the newspaper, and handed him 18gp in return. Osrie1 put the money in his bag, put the newspaper up his shirt, and ran outside to greet this unnatural storm.
He trudged up the road, past the sheep pen. Rain pounded into his head, and the wind nearly blew him off his feet. The sheep were huddled under a large tree. Up ahead there was a small wooden house. There was a chicken coop full of chickens and a dairy cow outside. The door was ajar slightly, and a gust of wind blew the door open entirely.
(Mainiac97's point of view) I sat on a wooden table, waiting patiently for my onion stew to be finished. Farmer Fred was making it on the stove. There was a smell of cooking meat and vegetables in the air. My mouth watered at the thought of the meat, bubbling away in the stew. A large gust of wind blew the door open. Osrie1 was standing there, hesitating on whether to come in or not.
"Who are you? What are you doing on my property?!" Fred yelled. There was a tear on his face.
"He's my friend, Osrie1. Why are you crying?" I asked.
"I'm not crying. It's the onions cooking!" Fred said, another tear running down his face. Osrie1 stepped in happily, sitting down opposite me.
"Hey there, what's cooking? I'm starved," Osrie1 said, sniffing eagerly.
"Onion stew," Fred said reluctantly, adding a cabbage leaf to the mix. Osrie1 nodded. He started going on about how he'd raised to level 4 mining, level 3 smithing, and level 3 magic, and how he had made over 60gp that day. I explained about helping Farmer Fred, and learning about farming, and planting potatoes in the garden. I decided not to mention the so-called evil chicken.
After five minutes of the stew bubbling and Osrie1's stomach rumbling, Farmer Fred yelled "Stew's on!!" and, wearing leather gloves; put the pot on the table. He took out three bowls and three spoons from the cupboard under the sink, and put them in front of us. He then took out a large iron ladle that looked similar to the one from the furnaces, and he spooned stew into each of our bowls. He then took out three beer glasses and a large bottle filled with beer.
"Anyone fancy a drink?" Farmer Fred said, smiling mischievously. I nodded, and so did Osrie1. Farmer Fred filled the beer glasses with beer, and put the bottle back. I tried a spoonful of stew. It was hot!! It was very tasty, with tender chunks of meat, nice, soft onions and crispy cooked cabbage. But it was so hot it made my throat blister. I coughed, and took a swig of beer. My throat felt better. But the beer tasted strange. It tasted bubbly, sour and strong, but had quite a pleasant tang in it. It made me feel quite dizzy and sleepy. I blew on my stew. I decided to wait until it cooled down. Osrie1 shovelled it down, burping every now and then, and taking a hearty swig of beer. I noticed the damp newspaper on the floor.
"Can I read this?" I asked Osrie1. He nodded, still eating. I read the headline.
Lumbridge Paper 2gp
THREE-HEADED DRAGON ATTACKS LUMBRIDGE!!
Earlier today, a three-headed dragon was found in the basement of a Lumbridge family by heroic white knight, Sir Vant. Unconfirmed sources report seeing the dragon. They described it as a 'huge green-scaled beast with red eyes and three heads'.
There are reports of a similar dragon attacking Witchaven a few days ago. It is unknown whether it is the same dragon. Also, family woman Gertrude from Varrock reports seeing the dragon flying overhead, terrifying her kids. This report was backed up by several Varrock guards, Benny, a newspaper salesman, and a passer-by, Ilookgood99, who yesterday donated 50 beginner prayer amulets to the Lumbridge church. The Lumbridge Paper cannot figure out why it attacked. Dragons normally stay on their own turf, and only attack people who pass (Elvarg is an exception). Three-headed dragons are rare-people occasionally find them in the wilderness, and there is one report of a three-headed dragon in the third floor of the Stronghold of Security.
People argue that dragons don't normally have red eyes, they have yellow. So, is this related to the rats, zombies, ghosts, and dark wizards going restless? People in Karamja tell us that there are occasional bursts of fire coming from Crandor. People who go into the wilderness nowadays never come back out, and they don't even reappear in Lumbridge, like they should. We can't tell whether the dragons there act up. People are panicking that this is the work of Zamorak, but others are sceptical.
The Lumbridge Paper cannot get an interview with Sir Vant, because the white knights tell us he is too busy to talk. And, there are hardly any other eye-witnesses, simply because everyone was evacuated to the Castle.
We are still unable to explain why the dragon was even there.
Written by, Story Rover
I stared sadly at the article. They didn't even mention me. This Story Rover clearly didn't know much about the case. Instead he rambles about why the dragon was there, why its eyes were red. I would have gladly given an interview. I flicked through the rest of the paper. There was an article about the new released Pie Recipe book written by Romily Weaklax, an advertisement for Bob's Brilliant Axes…..nothing very interesting.
But then, I spotted a page the really caught my attention.
Wanted!! Dead or alive!
Wanted for the attack and murder of several innocent people, a highwayman, and level 5. If you have any information, speak to Duke Horacio.
Reward: 1,000gp
Underneath that there was a blurred picture of a man in a cream uniform, a black highwayman mask, and a black cape. He was holding a long steel sword. It said 'Picture created by using special dyes'.
"Look at this!" I said to Osrie1, who was still shovelling food like it was the end of the world. He looked up, and spluttered, spraying me with bits of cabbage and meat.
"Fancy trying to capture him?" I asked. Osrie1 hesitated, and then nodded.
"You can go tomorrow, just look at the weather now!!" Farmer Fred exclaimed. The wind was howling, banging against the window, and rain thundered down on the house like boulders.
I made a start on my stew. It, surprisingly, was still quite hot, but I ate it all the same. Osrie1 had finished, so he turned on his glass of beer. The beer was beginning to make me feel dizzy. I burped, and continued to eat. Farmer Fred went into the bedroom and opened the cupboard, letting two small squashy beds fall out. I finished my stew and my beer, and stumbled into the bedroom. I couldn't see properly, and I couldn't think properly. This beer must have been quite strong. I fell on the bed, and went straight to sleep.
Early the next morning, I woke up. I looked around blearily. My head was aching. This must be the effect of the beer. I yawned, stretched, and got out of bed. Osrie1 was still snoring in his own bed, and Farmer Fred was fast asleep in the large bed. I looked at the clock on the bedside cabinet next to him. It was 6:00am. The storm had blown itself out. I looked out the window. My potatoes were fully grown, ready to be picked. I grabbed a large sack from the kitchen, and headed outside.
Lumbridge was quiet. There wasn't any chatter. I could hear a few footsteps. A skull wearing a blue hat and holding a blue bag with a large golden P on it in its teeth floated past.
"Good morning, I'm Postie Pete," the skull said cheerily as he passed. He stopped. "Let's see, any mail for Farmer Fred? No," he said, his eyes pointing to the inside of his bag. "Well, I'm off. Bye!" he floated down the road, past the windmill and the grain field, past the potato field, turning left at the crossroad in the horizon and out of sight. I wondered privately why a skull was being the postman here. I shrugged the thought off, and went to pick my potatoes.
The closed compost bin smelt quite bad. I pinched my nose, and opened it. A pile of rotting compost lay there, smelling. Feeling sick, I went to the front, and picked up about five buckets. I went back to the compost bin, and scooped up all the compost in the five buckets.
"Tool leprechaun!" I shouted. There was a puff of green smoke, and the tool leprechaun was standing there, puffing his pipe. He spotted my compost.
"Shall I store them for you?" he asked. I nodded. He grabbed them off me.
"Also, can I have my spade?" I asked. He nodded cheerily, and handed me my spade from the box. He waved, and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
I used the spade to dig up all of my muddy potatoes. They were way too dirty to eat. I decided to wash them first. I went inside holding armfuls of potato. I gave the spade back to the tool leprechaun, who had appeared again at my side.
I took a bowl from Fred's cupboard. I piled all of the potatoes into the bowl, and turned on the tap. I filled the bowl with water, with the potatoes still bobbing inside. I moved them around, using my hands to scrub off the dirt. Soon, I had five clean potatoes and a bowl of murky brown water. I poured the water down the drain, washed the bowl, and returned it to the cupboard.
I looked at Fred's bedside clock again. It was 7:00am. I had spent a whole hour picking potatoes and cleaning them! I chuckled silently as Fred moaned 'Don't take away my doll…' snored and rolled over. Birds were singing the dawn chorus and a cockerel called loudly. Osrie1 yawned, and sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily. He lay back down, yawning.
"Come on Osrie1, wake up, look at the sun outside," I moaned, remembering how Osrie1 woke me up yesterday in a similar fashion. I dragged him off the bed, and he fell on the floor on his bottom with a thump. He yawned, sat up, and hit me playfully on the shoulder. Farmer Fred woke up with a start, mumbling "watsgoinon?" I went into the kitchen, whistling cheerfully to myself. Osrie1 stumbled after me, moaning and moving like a zombie. After a while, Farmer Fred came in, turned on the tap, and splashed water on his face.
"That's better. Now chaps, what's for breakfast?" Farmer Fred asked. "How about scrambled eggs and cooked meat?" I and Osrie1 nodded vigorously. He laughed, and went out to get an egg from the chicken coop. He went back inside, and got some raw meat from the cupboard. He put the raw meat on the range. It sizzled, and the house filled with the wonderful smell of cooking meat. My mouth watered at the smell. He then got a bowl from the open cupboard, and he broke the egg in the bowl. The bowl was now full of white stuff and several orange lumps. But, Fred put the bowl next to the sizzling meat, and the egg bubbled. He put two plates and two knives and forks in front of us, and sat down. After a few minutes, he stood up, put his trusty leather gloves on, and picked up the three pieces of meat. They were brown and cooked. He picked up the bowl. It was full of delicious-looking crispy scrambled egg. He used the ladle to spoon some egg onto both our plates. He slapped the meat next to our egg, and wolfed down the third piece. Osrie1 began to eat his food with gusto. I ate my own food. It was quite delicious, but felt like cotton in my mouth. I was very nervous about talking to Duke Horacio. I wondered whether it was worth trying to take down the highwayman. After all, he must be tough if he can evade several guards stronger then him. Anyway, he is weak, so I wondered if he had strengths that the guards didn't have. I finished my breakfast, and sat up. It was getting a bit noisier outside. I looked, and gasped at what I saw.
The sun was up, but now it was shrouded in complete darkness. The clouds were black and swirly, and there were several claps of thunder in the air. The clouds had a mix of purple in them. It looked like darkness was shrouding the world. Passing people were looking at the sky, scared. The darkness was paticuarly bad in one spot, in the distance. I decided to get on my way. But then, suddenly, a black bolt of lightning fell from the sky. It hit me in the head. I felt dizzy. It didn't hurt, but I felt sleepy, so sleepy, so sleepy……..I fainted there on the spot.
The black knight stood in a small room, tapping his foot impatiently. The room was windowless, and had a wooden table and chair in the corner. The walls were black, and grimy. The knight was waiting for someone. Then, a man in long red robes came in. It was Master Samuel.
"Thank you," the knight said, grinning nastily. Master Samuel was holding what looked like a large brown bundle. It was moving. He opened it, revealing it to be a sack. A mage in a blue cloak fell out. She was tied and gagged. She was screaming, but it was muffled from the black cloth in her mouth. Master Samuel left, saying "Enjoy the torture," behind his back. The knight took off his helmet, his plate body, and his plate legs. He put them and his black scimitar on the table. He stood there in a grey shirt, grey trousers, leather boots, and a large leather belt with a buckle. He took a black dagger from his pocket. He took off the mage's blue boots. Using his dagger, he cut her foot badly. Scarlet blood went everywhere, travelling in rivulets. He grinned evilly again. The mage was trying vainly to scream.
"So, you are from the Herblore centre in the wizard's tower? Well, we need a potion. Let me show you which one we need you to make for us. The dark wizards are trying to work on it, but no hope." He took a small book from the mage's pocket. He opened it to a particular page. He showed it to her. She opened her eyes wide, and shook her head violently.
"Very well, you refuse to help us make the potion. I am forced to use torture," he said, grinning evilly. He put his foot up, and with his big leather boot, and stamped on the bleeding cut foot. The mage screamed, and began crying silently. He looked at her, pointing at the page. She shook her head again. He sighed, and stamped on her foot again. After five more stamps, the foot looked a state. Blood everywhere, toes broken, foot twisted and mangled.
"You still refuse to help? Very well, maybe a different form of torture will make you talk." Still smiling wickedly, he grabbed her, and pushed her against the wall. She screamed as she saw him unbuckle his belt.
I woke up with a jolt. I was lying on the floor of the barn. I was surrounded with chickens. Farmer Fred and Osrie1 were kneeling next to me. The black clouds were gone.
I sat up. "What happened?" I asked shakily. Osrie1 cleared his throat.
"Well, a black bolt of lightning hit you in the head, and you fainted. The black clouds cleared up after that. You were twitching and we were panicking," Osrie1 replied.
"Well, I had a strange nightmare. Listen to this," I said. I began explaining about the black room, the mage, Master Samuel, the potion, the torture….everything. Both f them stared at me, wide-eyed.
"Oh dear. You tell us it felt so real, well it might be a vision, not a nightmare. When you have finished with your highwayman interview, you should go to the wise old man of Draynor village. He has travelled the world, and is very knowledgeable. But, people don't trust him as much as they used to. But, for now, you should rest in my house," Farmer Fred said nervously. I nodded my thoughts far away.
I remembered the nightmare. The man wanted a potion of some sort, but he must want it badly to torture the mage. He mentioned dark wizards and the look of terror on the mage's face when she saw the potion was hard to forget. He felt like something very evil and strange was going on, but what was going on? He just didn't know…….