RuneHQ Index News Archives March '04 issue
And So It Began The moon was like an ominous orb in the sky. Its gloomy radiance partially obscured by the wisps of cloud that wafted past it, moved by unheard winds. Winter had just ended; the life was slowly springing back into the land of Misthalin. Birds were plentiful by daylight hours, singing their tunes. Flowers and vegetation began to show signs of existence. By all means it was a happy time, a fresh start. But in the heart of the Varrock woods, it was far from happy. Happy seemed nonexistent, a false promise laid before you in an attempt to make you forget of things like what was now occurring. It was the dead of night. At least midnight as far as Casey could tell. He was a young boy, with deep hazelnut brown eyes and messy black hair. His small, weak hands were clutching a small disc. It seemed pointless, wrought of iron with a small hole near one end. It was a gift from his grandmother; she passed it on to him on her deathbed. He could remember that day right now. It was clear, serene. She had led a full life and had moved on. Without warning Casey was snapped from his daydream back to reality, a crash of steel on steel reverberated throughout the night. The silence that once held the forest was now a flurry of noise. Sword meeting sword, shield meeting shield. Every now and then a death cry would echo and be heard by all near the unlucky one who had met his end fighting for the city of Varrock. “Looks like it’s started up again.” Casey’s mother muttered as she risked a glance at the window. She was a young woman, maybe in her late twenties, but the recent events had taken their toll on her. Her face seemed drawn, her eyes were baggy. The darkness of the room seeming to amplify these features. Casey replied, his voice half choked. "Ye...Yeah, wonder where dads at, Hope he’s doing all right." His mother looked to him and reached out, messing up his hair with her hand. "Don’t worry, He’ll be fine." She said this to assure Casey, but she knew it may very well be a lie, it sure didn’t assure her. Just as she went to rise the wooden door of their shabby cabin was thrown inwards and met the wall like a thunderclap. Casey jumped with a start, the small metal disc hitting the floor and bouncing away unnoticed. His mother doing the same, but turning and staring, her face horror struck. They both looked to the door with fear in their eyes, was this end? Had they moved closer to their home? With an echoing noise the figure stepped inwards, his heavy boots echoing in the sudden quiet. Both Casey and his mother heaved a sigh of relief as they realized who this was, Casey’s father. His mother stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around him. They whispered something that Casey couldn’t hear; all he caught was his mother’s name from his father, "Anne." She stepped back and took Casey’s hand, "Casey, My Casey. We need to leave now, leave your things, you won’t need them. Keep low and stay quiet." She said this is a hushed hurried voice, a small amount of panic evident. He nodded his small head and looked to his father, His face was set in a grimace but he ruffled his hair as he stepped out into the night. Casey’s father in the lead, and then Casey followed closely by his mother. It was simple for Casey to leave his things behind; by all means their family had nothing but each other. Poor and just getting by on the high taxes nailed onto them by Varrock. The area immediately surrounding their home was shrouded by a grove of large, closely set together oak trees. It gave Casey a sense that they would be all right, and he relaxed as they headed to the West. Casey knew where he was, he always took this path over to the river to fish and collect some food for their supper. As they entered the thicket of trees and eerie silence fell upon them, the only sound was their muffled footfalls and the slow ringing of his father drawing out his iron blade from its sheath. Casey was suddenly hit with the sense that he was being watched, it unsettled him and he moved closer to his mother. He wanted to show that he was brave like a man, but he couldn’t help but feel scared, afraid. His fears were answered as they cleared the trees and emerged along the north flowing river. Sounds of hundreds of feet met them as if they had walked into a stampede, and they quite literally almost did. 10 score of Varrocks soldiers went charging past where they had just about stepped; their iron weapons and armor seemed to glow in the pale moonlight. Just as they passed a nearly deafening explosion rocked the forest, the ground trembled and Casey felt a blast of wind. Trigs and branches flew and Casey’s mother screamed. Stepping out into the bank of the river they turned and looked back, Just over the highest branches they could clearly make out a roaring fire and thick black smoke. Their home was gone. Casey’s mother tried to run back but was stopped by her husband’s strong arm "Anne, There won’t be anything left, we need to keep moving" His voice was gruff, but didn’t crack. Everything he and his wife had worked so hard on was now reduced to nothing but debris and ash. Casey simply stared, wide eyed. Not fully understanding what had happened, or what exactly was occurring. But he was scared, scared to the bone all the same. They made their way up the river in silence. A few tears ran down Anne’s tired face but she seemed to be ignoring them, Casey was holding on to her hand and walking with his eyes darting left and right to make sure nothing was going to jump out and eat him. They came upon the simple series of aligned rocks jutting across the river and moved across them. Their steps were quick and flawless, skill made from crossing them hundreds of times before. When Casey and his mother had stepped safely onto the opposite bank quick hurried voices could suddenly be heard from the trees ahead. They spoke in a tongue that sounded more like grunts and gibberish than actual words to Casey. Whatever they where Casey was suddenly aware that whatever they were, it couldn’t be good. His father was motioning for them to go to the left and into the path about a hundred feet to the south. Casey knew it led to the front gates of Varrock and he wondered why they would be going there. Guards usually didn’t let people in after dark. His mother was suddenly wrenching him to the path, she looked even more horrified than usual and tears were now flowing freely from her eyes. Casey risked a look backwards and saw his father throw something towards the trees. It glinted in the moonlight for an instant before a high-pitched cry met his ears. Something with green skin wearing a blue vest that must have been a failed attempt at armor stagger forward a few steps and then fall to the ground, its weak hands clutching its belly. The riverbank was suddenly full of the creatures as they swarmed out of the trees and surrounded his father. Casey heard his father’s yells for a moment before he turned around to keep from tripping on a rock. "DON’T STOP RUNNING! YOU NEED TO KEEP MOVING!" His father’s voice boomed out towards them. It was the last time Casey heard his father’s voice. He and his mother had entered the trees just as another high-pitched yell filled that air. Casey assumed that his father had killed another of the creatures. Pride suddenly filled him as he followed his mother. They ran for what seemed like ages. Casey’s young lungs burned for oxygen as his chest heaved. They had finally come to a stop, after a moment’s rest Casey looked up to his mother. She was looking left to right. The path forked in both those directions. Casey spoke up through his deep breaths, "Mom, which.." "This way, follow me, it must be this way..." And she went to the left. They continued to run; they ran through the cramps they both felt in their sides. But the further and further they went, the more Casey felt like something was wrong. The path was overgrown and they had to slow down. They fought through brambles and thorns. After another fifteen minutes or so they emerged into less dense vegetation. They round a corner to the left when Casey suddenly bumped into his mother. His breath was still deep and heaving, the blood pumping in his veins felt like liquid fire. He looked into his mothers thigh and saw little black specs on it, quirking a brow he wondered what they where, and why his mother had suddenly stopped moving. "Mom, why are you stopping? Dad said we need to keep... "Something wet landed on his hand, it felt warm. He wasn’t sure what it was. It looked black, Blood was red, and he knew that. What he didn’t know at the time was that blood was red in proper light, but was black by night. His brown eyes moved upwards, he let out a muffled cry as his mother fell to her knees. Something was standing in the path; it looked just like that things Casey’s father was fighting, except that it was much larger. Casey stared in horror, his feet stuck to the ground. He heard his mother’s voice, but it was like he was hearing it from somewhere else, like he was dreaming... "Casey, I love. You..." Her voice was less than a whisper, Casey couldn’t see her face and he didn’t want to. The creature reached forward and pulled its blade from her torso. His mother let out a cry of pain and fell to the ground in a heap; her last word escaped her as she lay on the ground, "Run..." He could only stare for a moment, his mother was dead. She was gone, simply gone. And this, this thing had caused it. He wanted to hurt it, make it die for what it had done to his mom. He would have done this, but all he could hear was his mother’s voice echoing in his head, run, run, run, run. He did just that, run. He ducked under the green creature’s large arm, his face squishing up as he caught a scent of this creature. It was repulsive and almost made him gag on the spot. How could anything smell so bad? But how unnaturally slow and stupid it was. As Casey ran around it he charged into the thick trees to his left. The creature stupidly looked around looking for him. Casey ran, and he ran. He ran until he thought he couldn’t run anymore. And then he ran some more. His lungs screamed at him, his veins pumped fire. His body was running on adrenaline now. It must have been pumping it out by the liters. His vision was obscured by the black specs. His arms burned with cuts and scrapes as he shoved his way through the branches, sharp as daggers. It felt like hours and hours, but his legs continuously pumped out steps. His mother was gone; his father must surely be gone too. He thought of his grandmother’s disc. It was gone too. Everything was gone. He had nothing and no one. He felt lost, confused. A great feeling of loneliness suddenly hit him. As it did he instantly fell to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably and rolling up into a fetal ball. His eyes closed and darkness enveloped him... By: Morrowson	Monthly... Fake pic fanatics dont miss this months Humour
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