NOTE: FOR THOSE NOT FAMILIAR WITH COUNCIL OF OBLIVION, THE STORY TOOK OVER 10 POSTS TO FIT IN ALL THE CHAPTERS (DUE TO THE CHARACTER LIMIT PER POST). GIVEN WHAT I CURRENTLY KNOW ABOUT THIS SEQUEL, I AM LIKELY TO NEED A FULL PAGE OF POSTS TO FIT THE CHAPTERS IN. IN ORDER TO MAKE THE STORY EASIER TO READ, I AM "RESERVING" THESE POSTS ALL IN A ROW SO THAT READERS DO NOT HAVE TO FISH FROM PAGE TO PAGE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER. STAFF, PLEASE DO NOT DELETE THESE RESERVED SPACES.
IT IS NOW OK FOR READERS TO POST REPLIES IN THIS THREAD.
This story is the sequel to Council of Oblivion. As before, several chapters shall be posted each week as long as interest remains. If you haven't read Council of Oblivion yet, you can find it here:
viewtopic.php?f=118&t=386500Sword of Guthix continues from where Council of Oblivion left off and includes several of the characters from the original. However, it is a completely new storyline (or is it...)
Chapter 1
A hand within a black sleeve pushed aside the curtain that kept the majority of the light out of the hut, followed by a head. “You wished to see me, Commander?” said a voice.
“Yes, Anthrado,” said the man sitting at the desk in the hut. “Please, come in.” The man at the entrance walked into the hut and stood before the desk. “Please, please, sit down.” Anthrado pulled up a seat and sat down in front of the desk.
“Void Commander, if I may ask… did I see who I thought I saw.” The Commander closed his eyes for a second then nodded lightly. “I see…” said Anthrado.
“Yes,” replied the Commander, “it’s been a long time since they’ve visited the Void Knight Outpost.”
“So what’s happening?” asked Anthrado. “For them to show up personally, I’m sure it’s no minor news.”
“Correct,” replied the Commander. “It seems the Sword of Guthix has had a premonition.”
“Again?” asked Anthrado.
“Yes, the Sword does predict many things. But I’m afraid this time it requires a larger response on our part than normal. Are you familiar with this group?” asked the Commander, sliding a piece of paper towards Anthrado.
Anthrado scanned over the page. “Of course, everyone is aware of them. This group used to be quite dangerous. But that was because of their leader. Now that he’s gone, they’re not really much of a threat.”
Void Commander shook his head. “I wish that were the case. It’s true that strength wise they’re much weaker than before. But it seems that one of the stones of Azurian is in their control, and they know how to unlock it.”
Anthrado jumped forward in his chair. “Then we are to stop them before they can release it?!?”
“No,” said Void Commander calmly. “Our visitor believes this is our chance to get rid of this problem once and for all. We don’t have access to any of the stones, and even if we did, we don’t know how to unlock them. However, we have an advantage; we know approximately when and where they’ll try to release it, and that will be our chance to destroy that one. If we can destroy any one of them, the threat posed by those stones will be much smaller.”
“So why did they call upon us?” asked Anthrado.
“It seems that they will attempt to release the stone of Azurian at the large gathering that’s coming up soon.”
“The large gathering?” asked Anthrado. He thought for a moment. “You mean the Roseus?”
“Indeed,” replied Void Commander. “There will be a great deal of danger to the spectators if the combat is drawn out too long. However, we think the timing of the releasement is based upon the number of spectators that will be there. If we try to remove them, then they may stop their attempts. Thus, our only option is to secretly bring a strong strike force to the event and to destroy all threats swiftly. I would like you to lead this operation Anthrado.”
“But, sir. It’s true I have some rank, but this is an incredibly important operation, if what you say is true. Wouldn’t it be better to send one of our major commanders; perhaps even you yourself leading it?”
“You are right that this is an extremely important operation,” replied the Commander, “and that it is worthy of our highest commanders. However, our foes are aware of our ranks. There is a high risk that they would recognize one of our more well-known commanders and may abort their plans if such happened. I have full confidence in your abilities to succeed in this task. And besides…” he said with a smile, “I hear you’re acquainted with a few of the people who will be there.”
******
Thyker dashed through the streets of Ardgourne, knocking a few people in the process. He saw a house with its door open. He sprinted inside, closed it, and locked it. No worries… he could be out of here before its owner came home. And if he didn’t, they wouldn’t care. And if they did… well, then, he’d beat them up. Thyker stood straight with his back to the locked door for a minute. Nothing happened. He peaked out the window. He couldn’t see his stalker anywhere. He finally lost him. Of course, there was no guarantee how long it would last. He had been stalked for weeks now. He was relentless. But then again, so was Thyker… this guy was in for the chase of his life.
Thyker unlocked the door and stepped outside. He looked around for where he should go next. He looked right and saw the eastern gate of Ardgourne. He was somewhat familiar with that road. Filled with bears, coal, and iron. He looked left and jumped back as he found he was face to face with someone. “You’re Thyker, right?” the man asked. “Please, just hear me out. There’s this tournament to find the strongest person in the world.”
“No!” shouted Thyker, running away. The stalker had caught up with him. Well, the chase was on! Thyker sprinted out of the eastern gate of Ardgourne and into the uninhabited areas. Thyker had seen this before. The last time this happened, a servant had come saying, “Canafis is holding a tournament to determine the best human warrior alive. Any human may participate. Thyker’s presence has been specifically requested due to his exploits.”
Thyker was sure Malak had died, but somehow his spells lived on. Unbelievable! Well, last time, because of that fake tournament, Thyker had been sucked into an adventure that had nearly killed him several time, made him lose a sword, got him stuck battling for the fate of the world, and had him traveling with that annoying Lumbridge cook… Marik. Thyker was not going to let that happen again! He wouldn’t even let the servant speak to him.
Thyker stopped and turned around. The stalker was nowhere in sight. That wasn’t uncommon. The stalker didn’t seem particularly fast… but he was persistent. Thyker leaned his back against a nearby tree and caught his breath.
“Hey,” said a voice from up in the tree. Thyker jumped back. The stalker! He looked up and saw a figure sitting in the tree.
“Wait a minute, you’re not the stalker,” said Thyker.
The figure jumped down from the tree. “I heard you were exploring somewhere in these areas. Had to talk to you. Went up in the tree to see if I could spot you… never thought you’d come to me!”
“Hey, Janrok, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Janrok. The range-loving, Saradomin-following, avenger he had crossed paths with a few time. Through an accident from before, Thyker had come to take the legendary armor of the Morton brother Karil that Janrok owned. It was pretty unclear who the rightful owner was, though Thyker was currently the one using it. “So, have you come to try to take back Karil’s armor?”
“That’s for a later time,” said Janrok. “I’m not here to fight now. I assume you’re out here because this is where you think you’ll find Verac’s armor?”
“Well, that’s what my information tells me,” said Thyker. “But I can’t seem to find whoever owns it. They jump around all over the place. No one seems to know much about them. Anyway, what do you mean by ‘sort of’?”
“I didn’t see you at the preliminaries for the Roseus,” said Janrok. “Seemed odd to me.”
“What?” asked Thyker.
“You have to be kidding me…” said Janrok. “The Roseus! The worldwide tournament that’s held every decade. You got a personal invitation to it. How could you not show up?”
“Wait, that tournament’s real?” asked Thyker. “Well… I guess that explains it.” Thyker heard footsteps behind him. He turned around to see the stalker. “Oh, you again. Hey… about that…”
“Please wait!” the stalker shouted. “I just need to give you a message. Please! I haven’t been home in 3 months! Just take it. Please…” The stalker handed him a slip of paper. Thyker grabbed it slowly from him. “Oh thank you!” shouted the stalker. “Finally!” And with that, the stalker started running northward.
Thyker opened up the slip of paper and read it. “Hmm… the Roseus tournament, huh? Sixteen competitors, one winner… fantastic prizes.”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” said Janrok. “I never knew you could read.”
“Funny,” said Thyker. “But I’m not interested. They say fantastic prizes, but all they’re offering is some stupid paper hat.”
“That’s a party hat, pal,” said Janrok, “and its value is enormous. I’m talking hundreds of millions of coins. You could buy a lot of stuff with one of those.”
“You must be kidding,” replied Thyker.
“I know, it seems weird,” said Janrok, “but people will pay a lot for them. And you can win it… if you can prove you’re the best, that is.”
“Look, I know I’m the best and all that,” said Thyker, folding up the paper, “but I can’t enter. It says here that you have to pass the preliminaries to enter, and that was a week ago.”
“Normally, that would be a problem,” said Janrok. “But look at that paper again.”
Thyker opened the paper and read down the page. After a few moments, he reared back a little bit. “Featuring special participant, Thyker?”
“Yeah,” said Janrok. “Seems that old Tiffy is well-acquainted with the people who run this tournament. Months ago, he told them about your exploits and they let you in without participating in the preliminaries. Even if you had been there, you wouldn’t have participated. Of course, I wasn’t so lucky…” said Janrok grudgingly.
“Oh, wait, so you didn’t pass?” asked Thyker.
“What are you talking about!?” shouted Janrok angrily. “Of course I passed. I’m going to win the tournament, the preliminaries were nothing.”
“Um… if I already passed the prelims, then why would you expect me to be there?” asked Thyker.
“Because,” replied Janrok, “that doesn’t mean you could show up. You know… get a leg up on what the competition is.”
“Wait, so what happened at these things?”
“Oh, a lot of this and that,” said Janrok impatiently. “What happened there wasn’t important. What is important is that 15 people made it through the prelims. Counting you, that means the tournament has 16 contestants. I saw some of the contestants in the prelims and what they can do. You might be interested in seeing some of the ones who made it through, yourself.”
“So, wait,” said Thyker, “if I’m there, doesn’t that mean that you’ll have less chance of winning? Why come to remind me then?”
“Well, first of all,” said Janrok, “I still haven’t had a chance for that rematch we’ve been waiting for. I figure this tournament would be the perfect place to do it. You wouldn’t have the chance to run this time.”
“I didn’t run last time…” Thyker growled.
“As I recall,” said Janrok, “you used a teleport spell to separate us. That’s essentially running. And more importantly,” said Janrok, with a strange glint in his eye, “I’ve been working on some new techniques. I don’t think losing will be much of an issue this time. So, are you coming? The tournament’s in a week.”
“Of course!” shouted Thyker. “I’ll be there to knock you down a peg.”
“Well then, I have some more work to do. I’d better see you there.” And with that, Janrok ran off.
“You might be surprised …” said Thyker to no one.
Chapter 2
Thyker stepped off the boat and onto the port. From Ardgourne, he had taken a ship to the island city of Brimhaven. From there, he traveled east to Karamja and its port, taking a ship from there. And now, that ship had finally landed. He had reached Port Sarim. The port was somewhat nostalgic; it was here that he had started the hunt for the first of the ingredients for Duke Horacio of Lumbridge. Thyker walked northward to the pub and looked around briefly. Nope, Ned the sailor wasn’t here. Thyker hadn’t expected him to be, but he did show up from time to time at this port. Oh well, no time to lounge around. He had already been traveling for several days, and the Roseus Tournament had been a week away from when he started. He had to move quickly.
Thyker headed north until he found the southern gate of Falador. He scanned the wall. Thyker hadn’t been to Falador since he defeated Ansa. Back then, the city’s defenses were still trying to repair the damage done from Malak’s attack on the city. Thyker nodded. Impressive. The walls seemed even stronger than they had before. But then again, Falador hadn’t been invaded in a long time. That recent attack probably made the rulers of Falador realize that even in teams of relative peace that people still had to pay attention to their security. Still, Thyker didn’t expect any more sieges on Falador anytime soon. But then again, he hadn’t expected the first, either. Thyker walked through the gates of Falador.
While the walls of the city had changed, the inside was more or less the same. Thyker remembered the city well even though he hadn’t been there in a little over a year. Thyker made his way straight to the park. Upon entering, he turned right and headed straight to the bench he was so familiar with.
“Hello, Tiffy,” said Thyker to the person on the bench. The man turned to reveal a face that… wasn’t so familiar… “Wait a minute, you’re not Tiffy.”
The man nodded. “Yeah, that seems pretty much right.”
“Well, who are you?” asked Thyker.
The man seemed to think for a minute. “No… I don’t see how that’s any of your business…”
Thyker thought for a moment. The man seemed to react to the name of Tiffy, but Thyker couldn’t be sure. If he knew who Tiffy was, then he PROBABLY also knew where Tiffy was, as well. But then again, Thyker couldn’t talk about the Temple Knights to random people. He had to be sure that the man was actually part of the Temple Knights. At the same time, Thyker had to somehow prove that he was a member of the Temple Knights to this man ONLY if the man himself was a member of the Temple Knights. Oh, this was a seemingly tricky situation.
“Wait here a minute,” said Thyker.
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere… though I’m not sure who you are to boss me around,” replied the man.
Thyker walked south a little bit and entered the Falador bank. Though the banking system HAD to be a scam, he was nonetheless forced to use it once again. Withdrawing a particularly spherical item, Thyker concluded his businesses with the bank and walked back to the man on the bench in the park.
“Does this look familiar to you?” asked Thyker. There. If the man didn’t recognize it, no harm done; if he did, then his problem was solved.
The man squinted at the sphere. “That’s a Class Two Temple Knight Tele-Communication Orb, isn’t it?” asked the man.
Thyker nodded. “So you did recognize it.”
“So, you’re part of the Temple Knights, huh? Why didn’t you say so? My name is Mogo. I’m one of Tiffy’s apprentices. He’s gone at the moment, I’m just sitting here incase someone comes and needs him.”
“Well you certainly weren’t very helpful when I came by…” said Thyker grudgingly.
“Look, I’m sorry,” said Mogo, “but I’ve seen most of the people who work with Tiffy, and because of that I already know they’re Temple Knights. I’ve never seen you before though.”
“Well… I’m sort of a freelance Temple Knight. Anyway, when will Tiffy be back?”
“I’m not sure exactly,” said Mogo. “I’d guess at least 4 days.”
“Four days!?” shouted Thyker. “I can’t wait that long. I’ve never even seen him leave this bench. Where’s he going for all this time?”
“Oh, he’s headed to the Roseus Tournament,” replied Mogo.
“Great…” said. Thyker, “I need to talk to him before the tournament and I’d have to get there just to see him. I guess there’s no chance of meeting up with him, then. Why’s he there, anyway?” asked Thyker angrily as if it was the apprentices fault he went.
“Well, the Roseus is a pretty big deal. It attracts large crowds. It’s a perfect opportunity for Tiffy to gather information. Also, it seems that Tiffy is acquainted with a few of the participants, which makes him a good officer to send. The leaders of the tournament appreciate the added security of the Temple Knights being there, anyway.”
“Added security?” asked Thyker.
“Yeah,” replied Mogo. “It seems like you’re really unfamiliar with the Roseus Tournament. See, the tournament is a major event that occurs every ten years. The crowds it draws are enormous. As a result, there are problems with things you’d associate with crowds that large: you know, pickpockets, muggers, random fights, etc. Having high-class security there like the Temple Knights helps keep the petty crimes down. And then, of course, there’s always the risk that if something dangerous happens that there will be many people at risk. Often some weaker fighters make it through the preliminary, but one thing you know for certain is that there will definitely be some incredible fighters from among the world’s strongest there. Not only that, but influential ones, too. Influential spectators, as well. Basically, the whole scenario lends itself to the risk of… let’s say… “major” disasters.”
“I see,” replied Thyker. “I never realized this tournament was such a big deal. Well, I guess that describes the large prize. Anyway, I guess if Tiffy isn’t coming here soon that I better get going then.”
“Just for future reference,” said Mogo, “what’s your name, anyway?”
“Me? I’m Thyker.”
Mogo looked a little shocked for a moment, but then a small grin came onto his face and he nodded a little. “So you’re this Thyker I’ve heard about from Tiffy, huh? Kind of strange that I’d meet you a couple days before the tournament starts. Oh well, I guess it’s good to at least know what you look like.”
“Um… thanks?” said Thyker cautiously. Thyker turned around and started walking to the southern gate of Falador.
“Good luck… you may very well need it.”
Thyker walked to the bank again and withdrew several items. He would need these soon. After grabbing what he needed, Thyker left through the south gate of Falador and headed south. South past Port Sarim, south past a church. He wished he had known Tiffy wasn’t in the city; it would have saved him a lot of walking. Thyker continued to walk south until he found a small mountain on a peninsula. It wasn’t the mountain on this isolated peninsula he was interested in; it was the isolated hut behind the mountain. Traveling to the southern side of the peninsula, he found the hut he was looking for. Stopping at the entrance to the hut, he shouted out, “Thurgo, are you here?”
“Who is it?” replied the voice. Thyker recognized it as Thurgo’s voice. Yes, Thurgo, the dwarf. Well, he looked very little like a dwarf, but he was actually closely-related to them, so calling him a dwarf would be close enough. More important, however, Thurgo was probably the best smith in the world. He was the sole distributor of the impressive smithing cape, a cape which Thurgo would only give to great metal smiths. Thyker had some knowledge of smithing, but he was still a long way from earning such a prestigious cape. And Thurgo was a good deal above even those who owned them.
“It’s Thyker,” he said, answering the question.
The dwarf came near the entrance of the hut. “Oh, it is Thyker! How good to see you lad. Come in, come in.” Thyker walked into the hut and looked around. Same as always. Not very impressive, though it was of course filled with a great deal of smithing supplies. “Have you been practicing your smithing?”
“Of course,” said Thyker. “Though I don’t think I’ve improved much since I last saw you.”
“So, have you come here for some lessons?” asked Thurgo.
“No, actually,” replied Thyker. “See, my good sword was turned into… let’s say… gold coins.” It sounded odd, but it was true. The first time he had fought Ansa, she had converted his beautiful dragonite shortsword into gold coins. Thyker hadn’t gotten a chance to replace it yet, but with the tournament coming up, he figured it might be good to get a stronger weapon. “I’ve been using this for a while,” said Thyker, pulling out the mythical sword Excalibur. Though it was mythical and a so-so weapon, it was still a lot weaker than his previous sword. “I was wondering if you could smith me something stronger.”
“Something stronger?” asked Thurgo. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, my last sword as a dragonite shortsword. Would you be able to make me something even stronger?”
“Stronger than a dragonite weapon? Lad, I wish you the best and all, but I’m afraid that it’s hard to surpass the strength of a dragonite weapon. Frankly, I’m afraid it’s too much effort for these old bones to try to craft something of such power from scratch.”
“Oh, come on, you can do it!” exclaimed Thyker encouragingly. “You’re the best! And… I think I know what you need.” Thyker slyly pulled out and item from his pack.
Thurgo sniffed once… then he sniffed a few more times. “Is that… redberry pie?” he asked eagerly. Bingo. Thyker knew his weakness all too well.
“Why yes,” replied Thyker. “Yes, it is redberry pie. Would you like a piece?”
Thurgo shook his head. “I’m sorry Thyker, a weapon of the strength you’re talking about is too much effort… even for delicious redberry pie…”
“Oh really?” asked Thyker. “Well, then, how about ten redberry pies?” asked Thyker, opening up his pack.
Thurgo eyed the pack. “Ok, ok, you win! I’ll try to make your sword. But I can’t promise I’ll succeed. I can only try my best.”
“That’s all I ask,” said Thyker, handing over the pies.
After Thurgo finished eating one of the pies, he turned back to Thyker. “Now, to make a sword of such strength, I would need some unique materials.”
“I’m sorry,” said Thyker, “but I’m afraid I’m really short on time.”
“Luckily, I don’t think that will be an issue. Let me see the sword you showed me before.”
“This?” asked Thyker, handing Excalibur over to Thurgo.
“Yes,” said Thurgo. “See, despite what it may seem like, this sword is actually quite powerful. The craftsmanship on it is rather flawed, however, making its offensive abilities quite limited at the moment. You’ve probably seen that this sword has some remarkable defensive abilities… well, at least compared to its offensive abilities. I think I can forge a new sword from this with some surprisingly powerful qualities. However, the price would be that you would lose this particular sword in exchange for whatever is created from it; and even then, as I said, there’s no guarantees of success.”
“I can deal with that,” said Thyker. “It’s a nice sword, but as it is now, it’s too weak for what I’m going to need. Better to take a risk of getting something good than to safely hold onto something that can’t be used. So, is there any chance you could have this done in three days?” asked Thyker.
Thurgo laughed. “Oh, ha ha, I’m afraid not lad. Something of this magnitude will take AT LEAST a week. And that’s just a minimum. It could take longer.”
“This is important though,” said Thyker. “Isn’t there anyway that you could speed it up?”
“I’m afraid not, lad. Even if I were to work all day and rush through the process, the best I could do is six days. And even doing it that fast would highly increase the chances that the sword would come out poorly. So no, I’m afraid that we’re stuck with at least a week.”
“Well…” said Thyker, “you’re really doing me a favor here, so I guess it would be in poor taste to complain about what I get. Thanks Thurgo. I’ll stop by in a week for it.”
“Hold on, Thyker,” said Thurgo. “I need some more information before I can make the sword.”
“Information?” asked Thyker. “Well… ok, ask away.”
“See, it’s not that simple,” said Thurgo. “Normally when I craft weapons, they’re generic weapons meant to be used by anyone. But you seem to be asking for a rather high-quality weapon. I can’t make something of that caliber without customizing it to the one who will use it. So here, take this for a moment,” Thurgo said as he handed Excalibur back to Thyker. “Get ready for a workout. I’m going to need to gather some information.”
Chapter 3
Thyker trudged past Port Sarim for the third time today. He had spent hours getting that “information” for Thurgo. He carefully observed motion after motion as Thyker used the sword, as well as asking for details of previous weapons, asking questions about battle, etc. It had taken so long that it was night by the time Thurgo had finished. Thyker had stayed the night; not that he was particularly afraid of muggers, but Thurgo was holding onto Thyker’s only sword, and he’d rather avoid having to use non-sword abilities to take out any assailants. Thurgo had his sword… that could make the first rounds of the tournament challenging. “Still, I guess I still have some magic and ranging to work with,” Thyker thought, patting Karil’s crossbow on his back. Thyker wasn’t much of a ranger, but when he utilized the armor of Karil, the great ranger, he was assisted but Karil’s abilities.
Thyker started walking eastward in the direction of Al Kharid. That was where the Duel Arena was; where the Roseus would be. “Thyker,” said a voice in his head. He recognized the voice as Karil, the Mort’ton brother whose mystical armor he was wearing. Since Thyker started wearing the armor, he would occasionally hear Karil speak to him in dreams. However, recently, Karil had occasionally been speaking to him when he was conscious. “Look southward,” the voice continued.
“Is that smoke?” Thyker asked. He squinted a little bit. “That looks like it’s coming from Draynor Village…” Thyker knew he wouldn’t get a response. He was pretty confident that Karil was able to hear and see a large amount of the stuff Thyker heard and saw, but Karil only seemed to be able to say a sentence or two to him while Thyker was conscious. Karil wouldn’t be able to respond to anything Thyker said now. Thyker started jogging towards Draynor Village. It wasn’t uncommon for smoke to rise above a village from fireplaces and cooking fires. However, this smoke was un-natural. It was far too thick. It seemed like trouble. “This could be bad,” Thyker thought. “Without a sword, it’ll be a little harder to take out whatever I find there. Normally I wouldn’t bother, but that’s where Ned lives. I owe him one; I can’t just let his village burn down.”
Luckily, the village wasn’t too far away, and within minutes, Thyker started seeing the village itself. Minutes later, Thyker was entering the village. A large group of people was standing outside of the bank. A lot of them were talking, so Thyker couldn’t hear any one conversation, but he did hear bits and pieces.
“…magical user…”
“…was brutal, they robbed….”
“…flames jumping around…”
“…happened to the guards?”
Thyker pulled out Karil’s crossbow and started pushing people out of the way. “Excuse me. Move people! Seasoned adventurer here. I’ll take care of the problem.”
As Thyker pushed his way through, people started moving out of the way, letting him get closer to the bank. However, as he reached the end of the crowd, an arm shot out in front of him, purposefully blocking his way. “Hey, what are you doing jerk?” asked Thyker. “I need to get in there.”
“Relax,” said the owner of the arm, turning towards.
“Hey, it’s you,” said Thyker. Thyker let down his guard a little. “What are you doing here, Anthrado?” Seeing that Anthrado, a member of the Guthix-following Void Knights, was here put his mind at ease a little. At least he wasn’t the only one here who could help out. Anthrado had been the one who taught him the sealing spell which he attempted to use on Ansa.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” said Anthrado. “But it’s too late. The bandits are already gone. Anyway, as to what I’m doing here… well, we were on my way to the Roseus and simply happened to be passing by when I saw this. Needless to say, we came by to try to help. But when we got here, the bandits were already gone.”
“Wait… we?” asked Thyker.
“Um… don’t worry about it. I have a few comrades that came along with me. You wouldn’t know them though.” Thyker scanned the area a little bit. Near the front of the crowd, there were several people who seemed remarkably calm given the situation. Most likely, they were normal villagers. Thyker wondered if these ‘comrades’ were fellow Void Knights; and if so, how many? Not only that, but Anthrado said that they were on there way to the Roseus. So… some Temple Knights and Void Knights were going to be at the Roseus.
“Anyway, what do you know about it?” asked Thyker.
“Not as much as we’d like to, to be honest,” said another man. Thyker didn’t recognize the man’s face. And he suspected he would have if he had ever seen it; a distinctive burn scar marked his right cheek. The man had seen battles before. From the way Anthrado reacted, it seemed that the two were traveling together. As Thyker suspected… his comrades were probably Void Knights.
“And you are who?” asked Thyker.
The man continued without answering the question. “They said that two bandits robbed the bank. Both of them were magic users. No one saw them enter the village. They simply entered the bank and started destroying the place, stealing as much as they could. No one recognized them; but whoever they are, they must be powerful. Look at the results.”
Thyker walked forward and look around the bank. Burn marks scorched the entire bank. Holes had been burned clean through the wall; considering the walls were stone, that was an impressive feat. Thyker looked a little more and gasped. Several guards were frozen solid in a block of ice. “Anthrado, these guys.”
“We know, we know,” said Anthrado. “We tried to help them, but we’re having trouble melting the ice.” Thyker shivered. The situation reminded him of Ansa, who seemed to particularly enjoy the ice spells.
“Don’t worry, they’ll live,” said a third voice. Thyker turned around. Another woman walked forward from the crowd. From the reaction of Anthrado and the burn-cheek, they knew this woman as well. However, Anthrado seemed to react to this woman with a great deal more… dignity… than he did when burn-cheek talked. Was it from respect for the woman or disrespect for burn-cheek?
“Who is that?” asked Thyker directly to Anthrado this time.
“I’m afraid that it’s her business if she wants to give you her name,” said Anthrado. “And besides, she doesn’t even know who you are. It’s common courtesy to introduce yourself before asking the introduction of others.”
“My name is Sintel,” the woman replied without even being asked. Thyker noticed that burn-cheeked had a slightly puzzled look on his face. Without him asking the question, she answered it. “If Anthrado knows this person, then I’m interested in knowing his identity. I’m surprised you are not. And as Anthrado said, it’s common courtesy to introduce yourself before asking for someone else’s name. Don’t you agree?”
“My name is Baxel,” said burn-cheek almost immediately after.
“I’m known as Thyker,” he said, figuring he would be asked soon.
“You don’t say,” said Sintel carelessly. After all that, Thyker was a little surprised she didn’t show any more interest than that. “Anyway, these guards will take a few days to thaw out, but they’ll be fine after they do. So don’t worry about them. However, I am a little worried about the about the bandits. I’m not quite sure who they are, but at least one of them is going to show up at the Roseus.”
“Wait, what makes you think that?” asked Thyker.
Sintel showed a tiny grin. “I have my reasons. Anyway, the problem is that both of these magic-users seem fairly powerful and have clearly demonstrated a willingness to harm people for their goods. Either one of them could be quite dangerous in a crowd as large at the Roseus. We would be best to keep an eye out for them.”
“Wait a minute,” thought Thyker, “this sounds familiar…”
Sintel started walking eastward. “Where are you going?” Anthrado asked her.
“There’s nothing that I can do here,” she replied. “I’m going to head to the Duel Arena. You can do what you want.”
Anthrado paused for a moment and then turned to Baxel. “Well, she does make a point. I guess there isn’t much we can do now. The bandits are gone. It’s up to the villagers to handle things now. And if they are headed to the Roseus, I the best thing we can probably do is head there ourselves.” Baxel nodded. “Well, it was good seeing you Thyker, but I guess I’ll see you in a few days at the tournament, anyway,” Anthrado said to Thyker before he started heading east himself.
Baxel paused for a moment. “Charmed,” he said grudgingly, nodding his head and then heading east. Several other people in the crowd followed east as well.
“It’s a good thing they’re gone,” thought Thyker. “I know who did this, and I’d rather not make a scene yet. He’s a good person deep down… I think. Maybe I can get him to undo the damage.”
Thyker kicked in the door of one of the houses in Draynor. “Show yourself!” he shouted.
A figure walked to the front of the house, wearing the same blue party hat he always did. The one who was known as ‘the wise old man of Draynor village’. Savior of the past. Decades ago, an adventurer very similar to Thyker. However, he also showed a darker side. That party hat hadn’t been bought by him; he had gotten it robbing the bank of Draynor a few years ago. “Old man,” said Thyker, “why did you rob the bank AGAIN? I stayed silent the one time, but you can’t keep doing it.”
“Sonny, I know what it looks like,” said the wise old man. Why did old people always call Thyker sonny or lad? “But I had nothing to do with this situation.”
“Yeah yeah,” said Thyker. “I know, just like last time, you’ll deny any involvement because no one can identify that you’re the one who did it for some reason. But I saw the strength of the spells used in the attack, and they’re similar to the spells I saw you use in Piscatoris. Look, I’m not here to cause trouble. Just give me the stuff and I’ll return it to the bank. You’ve done a lot of good stuff in the past, and I’d rather not see you go to jail.”
“Look,” said the wise old man of Draynor, getting face to face with Thyker. “I am denying any involvement in THIS bank robbery. I have everything I need right here,” said the man as he patted his blue party hat. “I promise you, however, whoever did this, I will get them!”
Thyker chuckled a little bit. It was so common for the guilty to claim they’ll find the ‘true’ guilty person. But the old man was certainly acting weird… well, weirder than usual; Thyker had never seen the wise old man take an interest like this in anything else that happened in Draynor. “Ok, look, I’ll make you a deal,” said Thyker. “I have to compete in the Roseus in a few days. After I win, I’m coming back here. If you haven’t given the stuff back by then, then I’m turning you in.”
The wise old man was the one to chuckle this time. “Oh, hee hee, you may be a little over-confident in your abilities, sonny, if you think you could take me down that easy.”
“I don’t have enough time to deal with you right now,” said Thyker as he started walking out the door to the wise old man’s house. “Just remember, you have less than a week before I come for you.”
Chapter 4
Thyker walked southward through the deserts north of Al Kharid. After his experiences in Draynor, he had decided to take a little detour to Varrock. He hadn’t reached the city until the day before the Roseus started. After securing his purchase, he figured it was too late to travel and went to sleep. However, he had also been sure to leave very early in the morning, well before sunrise, as if he waited too long he wouldn’t have time to make it to the tournament. Thyker patted the newly-purchased mithril short sword that he wore at his hip. It didn’t seem to be a particularly well-made sword, but it was still better than no sword. He was glad he had made the trip.
As he continued to walk south, Thyker noticed that the sun was beginning to rise. It light allowed him to see the Duel Arena in the distance. He was almost there. Within half an hour Thyker reached the Duel Arena and looked into in shock. The entire region looked different. The walled rooms which had once stood there were gone. As to what replaced them… Thyker wasn’t sure. All he could was a huge throng of people standing in the region. The crowd stacked almost all the way back to the entrance of the arena.
“There must be tens of thousands of people here,” thought Thyker in astonishment. He had heard that the turn-out was large… but this? And this was only the first round. Thyker took a few steps past the fence that marked the entrance of the Duel Arena.
“Hey, buddy,” said a voice. Thyker looked to his left and noticed a guy sitting in a booth. “If you want to go in there, you’re going to have to pay the fee.”
“Fee?” asked Thyker. “What fee?”
“The spectator fee, newb. The cost today is 500 coins.”
“That sounds like some kind of cheap scam like ‘Jagex doesn’t let you say what your pin outloud’… whoever Jagex is,” replied Thyker.
“Look,” said the official, “if you don’t pay the fee, you don’t get to watch in person.”
“But I’m not here to watch. I’m a contestant…” replied Thyker.
“Ha! Contestant you say? Let me see your pass.”
Thyker fumbled around in his pack and found the note that the messenger had given to him a week ago. He handed it over to the man booth. “Well I’ll be,” he said. “I guess you really are a contestant. Pretty foolhardy for you to show at a time like this.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Thyker.
“Most of the contestants get here AT LEAST a day early and just stay in the lodgings. That way, they don’t have to worry about accidentally being late or being tired from travel. But oh well, who am I to judge? It’s your spot in the competition. Here,” said the man, standing up and handing Thyker the note back. “Head down that way,” he said as he pointed into the throng of people, “and look for the red building. Show the doorman your note. It’s the waiting room for the contestants.”
Thyker walked to the crowd and started maneuvering his way through. He didn’t make much progress though; the crowd was so thick that he couldn’t move fast. Finally, he gave up on winding through the people and just started pushing them away. Hey, it’s not like he’d meet most of them again, anyway. Or that they’d even know who he was.
After ten minutes or so of pushing his way through the crowd, Thyker finally caught a glimpse of the red building. Pushing his way through the crowd once again, he made his way to the building. “Here’s my pass,” said Thyker, handing the note to the doorman.
The doorman nodded. “Ok, good. That makes you the final contestant to show up.” Thyker took the note and growled. He was NOT late. “Oh, and by the way, one very important rule. There is to be absolutely no fighting between contestants outside of a tournament match. That includes in here but also extends to when the rounds aren’t going on.” And with that, the doorman let him through.
Thyker walked into the room and looked around. It was enormous. Basically the size of what one of the old dueling rooms was. Thyker questioned if perhaps this originally WAS one of the dueling rooms. It did seem to be filled with rubble that was consistent with the obstacles in one of those dueling rooms. Thyker noticed several beings located around the around; he assumed they were some of the other contestants.
“Thyker!” shouted an exuberant voice. Thyker looked to his left and sighed.
“What are you doing in here Marik? I don’t think they’ll let you in just to visit.” Marik. The overly-excitable cook from Lumbridge Castle. Still… he was so-so when it came to wielding that unique dragonite warhammer. He was wearing the rockshell armor that Tiffy had once given to him.
“I’m not here to visit,” said Marik.
“He’s here to compete,” said another voice. Thyker recognized that voice right away. Janrok. “And what are you doing here so late?” he asked.
“I’m not late…” Thyker growled.
“I guess technically not,” said Janrok. “But it’s best not to show up a half hour before the Roseus is going to start. A small delay and you’d miss your big chance.”
“Whatever,” said Thyker. “So how did Marik make it through the preliminaries?”
“I’ve been practicing with my hammer a lot,” said Marik.
“He’s definitely improved a lot,” said Janrok. “A lot more skill than your average fighter. Luck may have been a factor in getting him through, but if he gets the right opponents, he may just be able to win a match or two.”
“Until he fights me, of course,” said Thyker.
“Let’s see how you handle being hit a few times by a hammer,” said Marik scornfully.
“Of course,” said Janrok, clearly referring to Thyker’s response.
“So where’s it list where my first match is?” asked Thyker.
Janrok sighed. “Don’t you know anything? The matches are completely random. You won’t know who you’re going up against until the match is going to begin. That stops people from taking preparations simply to fight against a specific person.”
“Well, only one thing to do then,” said Thyker. “Let’s take a look at some of the competition. And without moving much, I seem to notice two of them.”
“Ah, yeah,” said Janrok, clearly understanding who Thyker was talking about. “Well, the Roseus Tournament isn’t just restricted to humans; you’d figure that out pretty fast if you didn’t know that already.” With that, Thyker started walking towards the two enormous contestants in the room. One appeared to be the King Black Dragon; the other appeared to be the Kalphite Queen.
Thyker walked up close to the King Black Dragon first; big bugs freaked him out. “Wait a minute…” said Thyker. “Hey, King Black Dragon.” One of the heads turned towards Thyker. “Are you the clone from with Ansa?”
“Not so loud,” said the head that had turned towards Thyker. With that, the other two heads turned as well. “We don’t advertise the whole… ‘copies’ thing. The whole point is that people are supposed to think they’re fighting the real thing. But yes, I am who you think I am. It’s been a while Thyker, hasn’t it?”
“Hi,” said one of the other heads.
“Salutations,” said the third.
“Well I’ll be,” said Thyker. “You sure have lived on for a while, huh?”
“Well,” said the center head, “our breed doesn’t usually live long because people specifically come to kill us. However, since I was out of the cave, no one was really looking to fight me. And random passerby tend not to bother the three-headed king of the dragons unless I’m bugging them first.”
“Yeah, I guess not. By the way, how’s the wing doing?” asked Thyker, referring to the injury the clone has sustained underneath his wing. It had occurred with then super-charged Black Demon had dug its clause into the flesh underneath the clone’s wing.
“Not good,” said the clone. “The scales are very weak there. I’m afraid if I get hit there that it could do some serious damage. However, the scales look no different than anything else, so I don’t suspect anyone will notice. Also, with it being where it is, it will be a difficult target to hit, as well.”
“Well, don’t worry,” said Thyker. “I’m the only one who could know about it, and I promise I’ll avoid it. It’s the least you can do after you saved me life in the sky.”
“And I promise not to sear your bones with dragon fire.”
“However, I can’t promise anything about not freezing you,” said one of the heads.
“Or poison,” said the third head.
“Um… great,” replied Thyker. “By the way, did you notice the other… big thing over there?” asked Thyker as he pointed at the big bug.
“Ah, yes,” said the King Black Dragon. “That’s a Kalphite Queen clone, just like I’m a clone of the King Black Dragon. I have no idea why it’s here. It’s not like it could carry or wear the party hat. Or sell the hat. Or spend the money even if it could.” Thyker didn’t care to mention that the dragon clone was essentially in the same situation. “To be honest, I’m not even sure how it found out about the competition. I’d ask, but I can’t understand a thing it’s saying. Nor can anyone else, as far as I can tell.”
“So what made you decide to come here?” asked Thyker.
“Oh, I’m just here for fun,” said the King Black Dragon. “The life of a clone is often short. Most of us clones just get attacked by a large group of newbs, not even dying to a challenging fighter, simply a large group of weak ones. This tournament is a chance to fight some real talent, one-on-one. I’m living life to the fullest.”
“Well, I wish you the best,” said Thyker. “I’d chat a little more, but I’m going to go check out the rest of the competition.” Thyker walked away from the dragon clone and started scanning the room again. “Wow,” thought Thyker, “this could be bad. The King Black Dragon is no push-over one-on-one. I sure hope I don’t have to fight him until the end.”
“Thyker!” shouted a booming voice as Thyker continued to walk away. “It is an honor to see you again.” The voice sounded somewhat familiar but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “I hope to fight you again. It would be an excellent battle.”
Thyker slowly turned his head. Seeing the owner of the voice, Thyker sighed. “Yes, Grunkga, it’s a pleasure to see you again to.” To himself, Thyker thought, “Ugh, if this rock is here, then things are looking bad. I could hardly score a hit on him… how am I supposed to actually beat him?”
“I noticed that the tournament already had you in place as a contestant,” said Grunkga. “I was pleased to see that. You are certainly one of the more talented of your species.” Grunkga picked up his great axe a little then let it hit into the ground. Even that small motion punctured a little hole in the ground. Grunkga was a TzHaar warrior, and if his rock-hard skin wasn’t problem enough, his defenses were strengthened even more by the armor that had once been worn by the Mort’ton brother, Dharok. The armor enhanced Grunkga’s monstrous strength even further; a blow from his axe could crack the ground within a large area from where it hit.
“I also notice you’re still wearing that fire cape you earned,” continued Grunkga.
“Yes,” said Thyker. “It’s served its purpose more than once.” Thyker tried to keep the rock-man happy. He had never seen him angry, come to think of it, but he figured it was best not to fight him while he was angry. “I continue to wear it out of pride of the accomplishment. Grunkga, something I’m wondering about. The TzHaar’s are natural fighters. I’m surprised that I don’t see any of them here but you. Is the competition really all that tough?”
“The competition at this tournament is supposed to be quite difficult,” said Grunkga, “however, that is not why you don’t see any TzHaars. See, the rest of the TzHaars realized I was coming and decided it was futile to compete because of it.”
“Ah, that explains it,” said Thyker. “Not a surprise,” thought Thyker. “I’m not sure if anyone, including myself, can beat this guy.” Thyker continued speaking to Grunkga. “Well, I got here late, to go prepare a little bit,” he said, trying to find an excuse to get away.
“Good luck, human. I hope to meet you on the field of battle.”
As Thyker walked away, he saw a person clad in black dragonhide leather walking his way. He immediately recognized it was Janrok, but only now did he realize that there was something different about him than when they had fought Ansa. “Who was that?” asked Janrok.
“Basically a brick,” replied Thyker sarcastically. “Hey, Janrok, I just noticed… what’s with the outfit?”
“Oh, the gold trim?” asked Janrok. “Well, I figured if I’m going to compete in something like this, I might as well look the part.”
“Well, that too,” said Thyker realizing he had never seen a piece of black leather trimmed in gold. “But more than that. You have sleeves, too. Doesn’t that get in the way of throwing?”
“Oh, that,” said Janrok. “You’d think so, but the sleeves are purposefully made to be loose so they don’t interfere. Normally a ranger wouldn’t wear them, but I’m afraid of the risk of leaving my arms too exposed, especially to magical attacks. Thus, I decided to give myself a little extra protection.”
“Ah, that explains it,” said Thyker. But at this point, Janrok didn’t seem to be paying attention. His eyes were looking at something behind Thyker. “What are you looking at?” he asked.
“Thyker, look behind you. Isn’t that…?”
Thyker looked behind him and took a step forward. “Yes, it certainly is. That’s the mythical armor worn by the Mort’ton brother, Verac.”
Chapter 5
Partway across the room, a person wearing Verac’s armor was walking aslowly. Thyker was very familiar with the armor, so it wasn’t hard to identify: a full helmet to protect the head, a brassard to protect the chest, a manly skirt to protect the legs, and a brutal flail as a weapon. Thyker himself owned Karil’s armor, a ranging set; however, he had been trying for some time now to get Verac’s armor for himself. He hadn’t had much luck though; this was the first time he had even seen it firsthand. It seemed as if the owner wasn’t satisfied with the protection is offered, however. Thyker noticed a chest-mail made of adamantine underneath the brassard and a set of adamantine plate legs underneath of the skirt. The color of the secondary armor was green, similar to that of Verac’s actual armor, so a casual observer might think that was actually part of the set. However, Thyker was well aware of what the armor was supposed to be and could see that those pieces were there for extra protection. He had never seen someone who owned a set of the mythical armor wear additional armor with it. But then again, Verac’s armor offered much less protection than most of the other sets, so Thyker could understand it.
“Janrok, I’ll be back in a minute,” said Thyker, walking over to the owner of Verac’s armor. He just had to find out more about them. Quickly crossing the room, Thyker reached the spot where the owner of Verac’s armor was walking by. The owner didn’t appear to have seen him yet. “Hey, you,” said Thyker. “I’ve been searching for you forever. Could I talk to you for a minute, if you don’t mind?”
The head of the other person turned to look at Thyker; or at least Thyker assumed the head moved, because the helmet did. He stood there for a few moments then softly said, “No thank you, not right now.” With that, he turned and walked away.
“Hey, wait, I’m not done with you,” Thyker said, thrusting his hand out to grab the mysterious person by the back of the shoulder. However, he simply dodged the hand without turning and continued walking.
“What did you find out?” asked Janrok.
“… Nothing…” said Thyker. “He refused to talk to me and just walked away. I don’t even know his name.” Thyker punched his fist into the palm of one of his hands. “I’m going to beat it out of him!”
“Well not now,” Janrok said. “Remember, there’s absolutely no fighting allowed outside of matches. The authorities aren’t even allowed to go after criminals who are contestants in the tournament, since the Roseus uses the truce to try to gather stronger fighters. They’re certainly not going to let you beat up some guy just because he refused to talk to you.”
“But if he loses in the tournament then I can confront him anywhere, right?”
“The rules don’t place any restrictions after the person loses,” said Janrok “so I guess you can.”
“Great!” said Thyker, punching his fist into his palm again, “then I’ll just have to beat him twice; once in the arena and a second time outside of it.”
“Careful,” said Karil’s voice in his head, “that fighter is dangerous.”
“Whatever, I can take him,” said Thyker to the air.
“Who are you talking to?” Janrok asked.
“Um… just myself, never mind,” said Thyker. Even though he genuinely was talking to a real voice in his head, it was probably best not to tell people that there was a little voice that spoke in his head and told him what to do. People might react oddly to that. “Anyway, let’s go scope out the rest of the competition.”
Without moving, Thyker and Janrok started to look around the room. “Hey, over there,” said Thyker. “Isn’t that Maignius Mortifer?”
“You mean that necromancer that hangs around Port Sarim?” asked Janrok.
“Yeah, that guy.”
“Hmmmm…” said Janrok, looking in the same direction as Thyker. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s Maignius.”
“How’d he get in here?” asked Thyker. “He’s a good necromancer, but I don’t think he has any combat spells.”
“Luck, I guess,” said Janrok. “The tournament’s preliminaries are good but they’re not perfect. A few weaker fighters will slip through. Speaking of Maignius, what’s that thing next to him?”
“Oh, that thing?” asked Thyker looking at a black creature next to Maignius. “What the… is that a giant penguin?”
“How can it be?” asked Janrok. “That thing’s nearly as tall as a human. And this place isn’t even cold.”
“I don’t know!” shouted Thyker. “But look at it. It looks EXACTLY like a penguin. Maybe Maignius used some kind of spell on it or… something.”
“Maybe…” replied Janrok. “Anyway, let’s not focus on him. Maignius can’t be much of a threat. The point of this is to find people who might be. Like... look over there.”
Thyker looked in the direction that Janrok pointed. It was clear who he was pointing to; there was some kind of tan wild man standing by himself. The savage was wearing some kind of rune claws on his arms and a strange cape on his back. “I know I’ve seen him somewhere before…” said Thyker.
“That’s Duradel,” said Janrok, cutting Thyker off. “He’s a master of killing odd types of monsters. A great fighter, too. I’ve trained under him when I was learning to fight those kinds of monsters. I’m going to go speak to him.”
“Do what you want,” Thyker said. “I’m not interested.” Janrok walked away without another word towards Duradel.
Thyker started scanning the room once again. After a few moments, Thyker felt something poking his shoulder. “I told you I’m not interested,” Thyker said as he turned around to find himself face to face with a giant penguin.
Thyker jumped back in surprise as the penguin kept pecking at him. “Meh meh meh meh meh meh!” it squawked at him.
“Get away from me you flightless bird!” shouted Thyker as he swung his hands at the human-sized penguin. The penguin squawked one last time then ran over in the direction of Maignius.
“Stupid bird…” Thyker grumbled. Thyker scanned the room a little more. “Hey, wait…” Thyker said to himself. “I recognize those robes.” Thyker walked over towards an individual dressed in a unique dark-purple set of robes who was sitting on the ground. The individual looked up as Thyker approached. “Hey, you,” Thyker said forcefully, “tell me… are you an alchemist?”
“Yes I am,” said the individual with no further explanation.
“And are you of relation of Effigy?” Thyker further inquired.
“Yes I am,” said the individual again.
“Aha! I knew it. You’re one of those blasted alchemists from that dreaded Tower of Life, toying with life and not caring about the pain you created to that homunculus.”
The man paused for a moment. “My name is Tiber. Who would you be?”
“I’m Thyker, you creep.”
“Oh, Thyker!” responded Tiber as he jumped to his feet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said as he grabbed Thyker’s hand and shook it. “I really must thank you for all that you did?”
“Wait… what?” asked Thyker.
“Is something wrong?” Tiber asked.
“No… it’s just that… well, after running you alchemists out of the tower, I’d think you would a little angry, that’s all,” said Thyker.
“Ah, yes, let me explain,” said Tiber. “I am Tiber, as I have said. What you may not know is that I am the leader of the group of alchemists who had that tower built. Effigy was my second in-command. I’ve never met you, but I have heard of what you did. See, when you came by the Tower of Life, I had been gone for a while, trying to do research in some far-away libraries. I left Effigy in charge of ensuring that the Tower of Life was created.”
“And you’re not mad that I ran him out of it?” asked Thyker.
“Let me finish and I think you’ll understand,” responded Tiber. “Anyway, Effigy did a great job of pushing forward the building of the tower, and it was completed much sooner than I had expected. As a result, I was not there when it was finished.”
“Wow… so the tower was completed quickly, huh?” asked Thyker. “You must have had some awfully good builders to finish the last pieces of construction that needed to be done.”
“I am well aware that you were the one who put the final touches on the tower, Thyker, so your sarcasm is not lost on me” said Tiber. “Anyway, Effigy pushed ahead to actually start using the tower before I was able to return. From what he told me, the fool showed reckless disregard for the preciousness of life and embarrassed our entire group. Luckily, from what I hear, you corrected the mistake that Effigy made when he summoned the homunculus. I ensure you, I’ve punished him and the other alchemists involved severely, and the homunculus is well taken care of by the alchemists.”
“I see,” said Thyker. “I must admit, I’m surprised. I thought that your group of alchemists was all about experimenting with life.”
“We are,” said Tiber. “Don’t get me wrong. Our ultimate goal is to try to scientifically alter life to strengthen it.”
“That’s disgusting,” Thyker told him.
“Maybe so,” said Tiber. “But research is often ‘messy’. Unfortunately, without such research, our world would never progress. However, understand, such researchers have an absolute obligation to make sure our subjects don’t suffer. What Effigy did, leaving the homunculus in such pain, was totally unacceptable. No matter how much of a threat it was, he should have never abandoned it; he should have been willing to risk his life to alleviate its pain. He should have stayed and cured it like you did, or in the absolute worst scenario, killed it to end its suffering. Thyker, I know our organization appears stained to you, but I ensure you that as long as I lead them, our purpose will always be the improvement of the world. I owe you a debt of gratitude. I can’t go easy on you in this competition, but if there’s anything else I can do to make it up to you, let me know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind…” said Thyker cautiously. He wasn’t sure what to make of this Tiber. His methods seemed a little twisted, but he seemed to mean well. A lot better than Effigy, at least. “Let me ask. Why are you here, anyway?”
“Funny you should ask,” Tiber said. “Our research is incredibly expensive. The tools themselves are pricy, and if we want to research faster, we’ll need more alchemists to join our ranks. However, alchemists are also expensive. If I could win that red party hat, I could sell it and gain all the funds I’ll ever need.”
“Well, I guess that explains it,” Thyker said. “Good luck in the competition… I think,” he said as he started walking away. He still wasn’t entirely sure what to think of him. As Thyker walked away, he noticed another interesting contestant.
“Hey, you’re a troll general, right?” to the giant hammer-wielding troll which was pacing near Tiber.
“Me troll general,” it replied.
“Yeah, so I thought,” said Thyker. “Look, there’s always something I wanted to ask you. I’m familiar with how trolls name themselves, so does that mean you tried to eat a troll general when you were a baby?”
“General am rank,” said the troll. Well, at least he seemed more well-spoken than your average troll. “Name are Jimmy.”
“Oh, Jimmy? So you weren’t named the same way that trolls normally are?”
“Me named like other trolls.” Thyker thought about that response for a minute, shivered, and then walked away. Poor Jimmy… whoever he was.
Thyker felt a nudge on his back. “Oh, hey Janrok…” he said as he turned around to see the giant penguin poking at him again. “Get away from me you stupid bird!” Thyker shouted as he tried to punch the penguin. The penguin dodged the punch, squawked, and then waddled away again. “Darn flightless bird… I’ll have to bring a bird snare next time…”
“Hey matey, how you doing?” asked a slurred voice to his right. Thyker looked to his right but didn’t see anyone. “Down here,” said the voice.
Thyker looked down and noticed a dwarf standing right next to him. “Are you a fighter in the competition?” he asked. “No offense, but you look kind of… drunk.”
“No matey! I’m no fighter!” replied the dwarf. “I just came in to give you this gift.” The dwarf handed Thyker a kebab and a pint of ale.
“Um, thanks…” Thyker said cautiously. “But I don’t even know who you are.”
“There he is!” shouted a voice from behind Thyker.
“Get him!” shouted another from the same direction. Thyker turned to see two men in black-and-red wizard robes pointing towards the drunken dwarf standing next to Thyker. They sprinted towards the dwarf.
“I need to get going matey, cya!” shouted the dwarf, who dashed out of one of the doors, the two wizards sprinting after him.
Chapter 6
Thyker stared at the kebab and pint of ale. “What am I supposed to do with these?” he wondered.
“Aha! So you’re cheating on me are you!?” said a voice. Thyker sighed as he recognized the rather sarcastic voice. He knew it must have belonged to Bob the sarcastic kebab. “Hanging out with other kebabs are you?” it continued.
“You still haven’t eaten that kebab, Marik?” asked Thyker. Not that he saw Marik yet; he just knew that Bob always tagged along in Marik’s coin purse, so if Bob was behind him, then so was Marik.
“I’m not eating Bob!” shouted Marik as Thyker turned to face him.
“Well, I’ll do it for you if you want,” said Thyker. Not that he really liked the taste of kebabs, but he could make an exception in this case.
“Really, drinking ale right before a big match, Thyker?” asked Bob, referring to the ale the drunken dwarf had given to him.
“Shut up!” Thyker shouted at Marik’s coin purse.
“I’ll forgive you for the shouting and the affair with another kebab this time,” replied Bob. “You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re doing.”
Thyker punched Marik’s coin purse. “I don’t have time for you now!” shouted Thyker at the coin purse. He then looked at Marik. “Are you telling me you honestly don’t find him annoying?”
“I don’t know,” said Janrok. “He seems kind of fun to me.” Geeze, Thyker hadn’t even noticed Janrok approaching.
“How’d your reunion with your slayer master go? Find anything interesting?” asked Thyker as he peered slightly to his side, putting Janrok and Marik in view at the same time.
“Reunion went ok. Did I find anything interesting from him? No. However, look who’s over there.”
Thyker looked in the direction that Janrok pointed in. “An elf? What’s an elf doing here? She’s awful far from home.”
“That’s what’s interesting about this tournament,” said Janrok. “It pulls fighters from all across the world. If you didn’t notice, that’s not just any elf; it’s Ilfeen.”
“You mean the elf who chants seeds into crystal weapons?”
“That’s her,” said Janrok. “She’s pretty well-known for the weapons she makes. Some say those crystal bows are the most powerful ranging devices in the world. Still, it’s odd that she would make it through the preliminaries. As good as she is with creating weapons, I’ve never known her to be anything special when it comes to using them.”
“You did say that a few weak fighters sometimes slip through the preliminaries,” said Thyker.
“Yeah, that is true,” said Janrok. “Speaking of which, look at the kid over there,” he said as he beckoned with his thumb in yet another direction with a chuckle. Sitting on a piece of debris was a person dressed in red robes. His hair was brownish but also had a tint of red, matching the robes rather well. Unlike many of the other contestants, he simply stared at the ground while he sat, seemingly uninterested in anything that was going on around him. That wasn’t the strangest part, though.
“He looks like he’s just a kid!” Thyker told Janrok.
“That’s what I just said…” responded Janrok.
“No, I mean like a kid!”
“Yeah, must have slipped through the preliminaries somehow. Let’s go talk to him, I’d like to find out a little more about him.”
Janrok started walking in the direction of the boy. Thyker followed him, with Marik trailing behind. The three made a semi-circle of the boy. They stood there for a few moments, waiting for the kid to look up.
“What do you want?” asked the boy without even looking up. He seemed completely uninterested in them.
“How old are you, kid? Six?” asked Janrok, clearly over-exaggerating the boy’s youth.
“Sixteen,” said the boy as he looked up at the group. Janrok’s sarcasm seemed to have angered him, but only mildly. A lot less than it would have annoyed Thyker at least. The boy made Thyker a little uneasy. There was a strange look in his eyes.
“You do realize this tournament is dangerous, right?” asked Janrok.
“Janrok, hold on for a minute,” Thyker told him, trying to stop him from instigating something.
“I’m not really concerned,” said the boy.
“What’s your name?” Janrok asked.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” the boy in red replied immediately.
“Janrok, just drop it,” said Thyker.
“My name is Janrok,” said Janrok to the boy. “This is Thyker, and this is Marik,” he continued as he motioned to the appropriate people.
The boy’s head snapped up a little bit more and a small smirk appeared on his face. Thyker became even a little more uneasy. The boy hadn’t had any interest in them a moment ago. And he didn’t think it was because Janrok had annoyed him. As far as Thyker could tell, the boy was responding to one of the names Janrok had mentioned. However, Thyker had never seen the boy before. Come to think of it, it was unlikely Marik would have met him, since he spent most of his life as a chef. That left Janrok, but Janrok didn’t seem to know him either, given the questioning. “Is that so?” the boy asked.
They stood there in silence for several moments. “Well, you know our names,” said Janrok. “Don’t you believe it would be proper to give us yours?”
“No,” the boy simply replied.
“Janrok,” said Thyker, grabbing him by the arm. “Just let it go. There isn’t much time left.” And with that, Thyker dragged Janrok away from the boy, who resumed staring at the ground. Thyker realized that Marik had begun walking away before Thyker even grabbed Janrok.
“What are you so nervous about?” asked Janrok.
“There’s something odd about that boy,” said Thyker.
“Yeah, he creeped me out a little bit,” said Marik, who oddly hadn’t said anything at all before. “There was this odd look in his eyes,” said Marik, “but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.”
“What you were seeing,” said Thyker, “is bloodlust. The urge to kill. You usually see it in someone who has already killed many people, but the boy is too young. Something doesn’t make sense.”
“Yeah, I noticed that, too,” said Janrok. “You two have been rather sheltered, though. I spend a lot of time in the wilderness, which is filled with those with a strong bloodlust. You get used to it after time. You have to learn to fear the ones who have the power to act on that bloodlust. To be honest, I that boy may very well want to kill. A complete sicko in the head, perhaps. However, he’s too young to be dangerous. We’ve all got at least a decade of experience over him. He has no armor by the looks of it; just those robes. I didn’t even notice a weapon. Thus, he couldn’t hurt anyone if he wanted too. He’s probably just one of those people who squeaked by in the preliminaries and will get knocked out in the first round.”
Thyker looked back at the boy. He was still staring at the ground. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” said Thyker cautiously. “He doesn’t look like he could be much of a threat. Better to focus on the dangerous opponents,” he said out loud, as if trying to convince himself.
“Maybe I’ll be lucky and he’ll be my opponent,” said Marik. “Fighting a guy without a weapon or armor must be easy.”
“Well, don’t be too over-confident, Marik,” said Thyker. “With that kind of attitude, he’ll throw everything he has into it. Even without a weapon or armor, he might be put up a little fight. Still… I guess we could all wish to be lucky to fight someone as young as that.”
“And wearing only robes,” said Marik.
“Speaking of robes…” said Thyker, staring at a new person in the room.
“What the…” said Janrok. “Ahrim’s robes!? How did she get them?” Sure enough, partway across the room was a woman dressed in the dark-grayish robes that Ansa had once worn; the robes originally worn by the Mort’ton brother, Ahrim. And she had the matching, twisted staff as well.
“Well, I don’t know exactly she they got them,” said Thyker. “I lost track of the robes when the floating island collapsed. They could have easily fell into the sea and washed up on shore for anyone to grab.”
“Yeah,” said Janrok, “and with robes like those, even a remedial magic user could potentially become strong enough to pass the preliminaries. Let’s go find out who she is.”
“Thyker, Marik, Janrok,” said an unfamiliar voice. The three looked around for a few seconds before they realized that the voice came from the woman in Ahrim’s robes. Once they started looking at her again, she continued. “I have no interest in talking to you. So don’t bother.”
“That was weird,” said Marik.
“What the…” said Thyker.
“She must have super-hearing, or… something,” said Janrok. “Oh well, no use in talking to her; her reception will probably be as welcoming as that boy’s.”
“Look who’s suddenly worried about whether people want to talk to them or not…” grumbled Thyker.
“Something wrong young lad?” said a different yet familiar voice. Thyker immediately recognized it as belonging to the wise old man of Draynor Village.
“What are you doing here thief!?!?” Thyker shouted.
“Why, I’m here to compete, of course,” said the old man. “I am one of the strongest warriors from the previous generation. I should be able to give you whipper-snappers a run for your money.”
“Oh, I get it,” said Thyker, putting two and two together. “Janrok told me all about how competitors in the tournament are immune from the law, even if they’re criminals. You timed that bank robbery so that the guards couldn’t come after you.”
“Look, lad,” said the wise old man. “I keep telling you, I had nothing to do with THAT bank robbery.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” said Thyker. “If you aren’t here for immunity, then why are you here? You already have a party hat; you’re wearing it on your head now. And from what I hear, that blue one of yours is worth more than the red one they’re giving out at this tournament. So tell me, why would you even want a red one? You got two heads or something?”
“It’s simple, actually,” said the wise old man. Thyker, Janrok, and Marik leaned forward as he prepared to answer. “I want to get a full set of party hats.”
“What!?” shouted Janrok. “You mean one party hat isn’t enough for you? Do you realize how much a single one is worth?”
“Of course I do,” said the old man. “And frankly, I think I’m worth it.”
“Ah, so it all comes together,” said Thyker. “You need money to buy the remaining four party hats, so you start robbing banks. Well, as soon as you lose, I’m coming after you.”
“First of all, for the last time, sonny, I DID NOT ROB THE BANK!... this time,” said the old man. “Second, I think you’re a little over-confident in yourself; taking me out may not be as simple as you think. Oh, and one last thing.” The wise old man leaned forward and whispered into Thyker’s ear. “Seriously, do be careful. Things here can get a little dangerous.” The old man leaned back and returned to a normal volume. “Well, see you all in the arena!” he shouted to the group as he walked away.
“I’m not a child, I can handle myself…” Thyker grumbled. He thought he now knew why that boy was so angry with the way Janrok treated him.
“Wait a minute, something’s weird here,” Thyker said. “Count the contestants. There’s me, you two, the king black dragon, the kalphite queen…”
Janrok continued, “Duradel, Ilfeen, Maignius, the rock man…”
Marik picked up the count. “The girl in the ancient robes, the young boy, that old man just now…”
Thyker finished up with, “And then there’s the alchemist, the big troll, and the Verac jerk.”
“That’s only fifteen,” Marik said.
“Maybe the last guy didn’t show?” asked Janrok. “I mean, you almost didn’t, Thyker.”
“Shut up,” Thyker replied. He felt a poking on the back of his head. Thyker turned around to see the giant penguin once again squawking and pecking at him. “That’s it, feather boy!” Thyker shouted as he pulled out his new mithril short sword.
“Wow, high-class sword,” Janrok said sarcastically.
“Quiet,” Thyker said. “I had some issues. Anyway, it’ll be more than enough to take care of this annoying bird!” Thyker pulled back his sword.
“Hey, stop!” shouted a voice. Thyker looked over to see a person in wizard robes running over. They were the same kind of robes as the people who had been chasing after the drunken dwarf, but it was a different person. “I told you that fighting between contestants was strictly forbidden.”
“What do you mean fighting between contestants Thyker asked?” looking at the wizard. He looked at the penguin, then back at the wizard. He paused for a moment then looked at the penguin again. His shoulders slumped down. “Oh, you must be kidding me…”
“Ha ha!” laughed Marik. “I guess that makes sixteen.”
“Looks like you’ve got some serious competition, then,” said Bob from within the coin pouch. Thyker almost punched the coin pouch but then stopped; to the wizard, it would look like he was attacking Marik, a contestant.
The wizard then talked into the air. Apparently he had cast some spell, because his voice boomed across the room. “Contestants, the first round of the tournament is about to begin. I’ll ask you all to please follow me to the fighting ring.”
