This is my first attempt at a Short Story, just something I was working on this afternoon.
Comments and CC would be very much appreciated
Comments and CC would be very much appreciated
Crypt of Darkness
It was a cold, dark night in South-east Morytania. As I left the relative comfort of Mort’ton, it was hard to forget that many had walked the very same path. It was harder still to forget that most had not returned.
I flinched as a Ghast glided past me; luckily it had not seen me this time. I had been warned of their devastating aura, and I did not want to succumb to their overpowering nature. I heard a whimper in the distance, and found myself instantly shying away from the area the sound had come from. I checked my Pack as I always did when I was on edge, and was relieved to find that my provisions had survived the journey. I then found the source of the sound. A young man ran past me, clutching his chest. Further examination showed a deep gash across his torso, and I wasn’t sure myself that I could heal him from such a blow. He was muttering something under his breath, but he disappeared into the mist before I could begin to try and find out what was wrong. I quickened my pace and continued on my journey. And then quite suddenly….
…I was there. I saw an Old Man walking on the Edge of the far West mound, he beckoned me over and whispered to me:
‘This is a dangerous place, lad. You’d do well to turn back now.’
I retorted ‘I’ll be damned if I have an Old Man tell me what to do.’ I paused. ‘Besides, I’m here now. Don’t try to stop me’
He sighed, and a look of sorrow crossed his ravaged face. ‘Then it is too late. Fare thee well, Adventurer.’
I felt guilty. It was wrong of me to treat anyone the way I had, let alone a man who had set out to help me. ‘And you’ I replied and trudged on.
I took a deep breath. I opted for the North-West hill and, as instructed by my mentor, I lifted up the small circular rock on the mound and dug. In what seemed like no more than a few moments, the ground caved in and I fell through the gap. I had landed on my bottom, and for a moment, was embarrassed but then realised, no-one was here to watch my fall. I got to my feet and brushed the dust off my Tassets. I quickly adopted a crouching stance, keeping my centre of gravity as low as possible. A hurried look around the room told me that I was in luck; Verac was not awake. Yet.
I crept towards the Grave, marvelling at the craftsmanship on the Coffin. It was clear that his loyal soldiers had not spared expense when creating a fitting resting place for their Hero. And then it hit me. I was desecrating the Tombs of not one, but six of the greatest Men Gielinor had ever seen. I shook these thoughts from my mind and returned to the task at hand. My hands found hold on the cracked rim of the Coffin, and I started to try and heave the Coffin lid off. A blast of ice cold air swept through the room, ripping through my Armour and leaving me gasping for breath. A deep voice appeared from nowhere, and echoed throughout the Room;
‘Who dares enter mine place of rest? Do you presume to have the right to disrupt my eternal slumber?
I trembled, this was not what I had expected. I tried to speak, but no words could escape my mouth. It was as if a lock had been placed on my very tongue. The deep rumbling began again;
‘If you have no answer, then I have no more questions to ask of you. Good bye, Mortal.’
I heard a creaking noise and I noticed the Coffin Lid began to shake. It fell off the hinges, and a cloud of dust went up, covering the Coffin. When the dust settled, an Ancient warrior of times long gone faced me. I noticed the Flail in his hand, the Weapon that had crushed hundreds of brave soldiers. I just hoped my fate would not be the same.
As I gripped my Sword, instantly regretting not bringing my Shield, which had been a tower of fortitude for me in times of need. I had foolishly thought that I would not need it, and had decided on a two-handed sword, rumoured to be from the times of the God Wars. As I prepared for the onslaught, I offered quick Prayers to the Holy Saradomin, one of Protection and of Strength for the battle ahead. And then it began.
We circled each other for what felt like an eternity, the Torches that lit up the hollow room dimmed, and it felt the very World was closing in on me. I took a quick sip from the concoction that the Apothecary had prepared me, and fought back the compulsion to be sick. It felt as if my insides were being ripped apart, and a force was growing inside my Heart. Verac appeared distant for a moment, and then I saw the bulging on my Arms and Legs. By Saradomin, he hadn’t lied! I had not thought that such Potions could exist. With what seemed like boundless strength, I broke the deadlock and made my move. I made a swing for his right arm, but he batted the stroke away as if he were teaching a child how to fight. It was clear that I would not win the fight by brute force, even with my enhanced vigour from the Potion. He then started a series of devastating blows that shook my arms from the force as I feebly protected myself from the attack. I was on the back foot, and this had to change.
I felt on my back, and my heart stopped momentarily as I realised my Bow was not with me. I must have dropped it on the way. I struggled to maintain my stance and slowly moved back. What could only be described as a look of desire crossed Verac’s face, and he pressed forwards. He made a few smaller blows directed at my Face, and I blocked them with ease. I then realised he was just toying with me. He knew that he was the superior fighter, and I had been shaken by my discovery. I had to do something, anything to try and distract him.
I placed the Runes in my hand and muttered a quick Spell of entanglement upon him. I watched in horror as he continued to move forward, the smile broadening across his face. I tripped on a loose tablet on the floor, and pitched forwards onto my face. As I lifted my head, I realised this was the end. I had assumed the same fate of many other adventurers, and failed in my Quest. A tear left my eye. This was the end. As I watched him lift his Flail for the last time, I closed my eyelids and offered another Prayer. The silence was deafening. No God would save me now. This was the end.
