A noose hung loosely around my neck. The peers jeered and hurled insults at me, i was calm and relaxed as ever, waiting for the mighty gods to claim my soul. This was the eigth public hanging this week. And there was the king, King Harold of Varrock standing next to me, unimpressed.
"Let the mighty gods bring justice down upon this vile filth!" He flicked his hand decorated with rings in my direction.
"Will anyone object to this?" The crowd stood silent. Not one of them daring to speak.
"Very well" He murmed unable to keep the exictement out of his voice.
"Let this be a message to you all" He addressed the crowd.
"That no one EVER should bring shame upon our noble city!" His hand gripped the leaver.
"You will not enjoy this, scum it will be painfull" The king wisperd to me. I waited. 5 seconds trickled away, 10, 15, But the king did not pull the lever. Instead his noble body fell forward. Making a loud thump as it hit the floor. 16 rune arrows stuck out of his back. And their on the horizon were the rangers, hardly visible in the blinding sun. I blinked and the ilusive rangers that had saved my life were gone. I quickly shook the noose off that hung on my neck. And ran. Not waiting to stop. I took leaping bounds, sprinting away from the hell city, Witch was Varrock and it's dead king. Little did I know but i was the most wanted man in all of Runescape. For those rangers, were known simply as, the Teletubies The most hated gang in all of Runescape. To be Continued.
Three noble warriors stood infront of the mighty gates of Zamorak. Aro, Zeltron, Trao, all true warriors of Saradomin, came to defat the pure evil that was, Zamorak. Armed with the finest armor and weapons, Blessed by Saradomin himself. Aro, was the Ranger, with a finely crafted bow, the arrows had been crafted to peirce the black heart of Zamorak. He had been trained to hit a target 4 Miles away, A true warrior of the skill, and a great bonus to the fearless group. Zeltron, was the Mage. A preist to Sardomin, the best in the land. Using only the finest spells to defeat and crush the rein of the hellsish Zamorak. Trao, is the Warrior, a beserker more than anything, trained to best even the most fearless warriors. He had quite a record, not only had he defeated, Bandos, and Arymadl, He was the one that had Trained combat on Tutorial Island. And put together were an unstopable force, ready to annileate and destroy any evil that threatend holy Saradomin. Stroling, the group andvanced on the gates, Zeltron quickly hit the gates with a Fire Surge, and the gates flew open with a loud clatter. The sky above them rumbled a red, Zamorak was angry. Trao Rushed In, His Bandos GodSword drawn. Nothing. A lighting bolt struck. And in its wake. Were eight Zamorak King Black Dragons ready to devour Trao. Trao chuckled.
"Lets dance" And with that he dashed ahead, intent on severing the heads of the dragons.