He entered the city at dusk, his true nature concealed from the guards who cast a wary eye over those passing through the gates.
Rumours of the monster had driven many people to the city. Farmers and hunters had sent their loved ones south for the protection of Falador’s high white walls and crowded streets.
He hated the crowds. There were too many people and the smell of human fear taunted him, for he knew he could not act upon it.
With the cloak pulled tightly about him he kept to the shadowy alleyways. A child’s cry from the window above forced him to master his hunger. The mother’s soothing voice angered him still further.
Just two more, he thought to himself, and then I will go after the knight who knows my quarry.
He felt his heart quicken at the thought of the hunt and he salivated at the thought of the kill. His long fingers curled into fists.
There will be no more killing! a sinister voice whispered in his mind.
At once he stopped, admitting to himself that he was afraid. Since beginning his chase he had never been afraid, not in these human lands.
The alley across the street darkened. It seemed to him as if it had become a gateway to a different place, a land in perpetual shadow. Several people passed it by, unaware of its existence, seeing nothing unusual in the passage that had been there for many years.
No human could see the gateway.
He sensed a great power reaching out to him. He had only been in the presence of such power once before, months ago when he had been chosen to travel across the holy barrier to the human realm.
There will be no more killing! the voice repeated in his head, louder now and in the darkness a shadow moved. He could sense the terrible strength of its stare and instinctively he placed his long hands over his head in a reverence born out of fear.
“Only two more, my lord,” he said pleadingly, keeping his voice low so that none would hear. “These lands are so well stocked!”
No more! came the reply. You have work to do in Asgarnia. You have to bring him home.
The shadow seemed to be drawing closer, but it stopped at the very edge of the darkness, its features hidden.
You have spent long months here already-too long. Remember who I am! Know what I can do. Killing endangers your mission.
“Then I shall hunt no more,” he replied. “All my energies will be devoted to my task.”
See that it is so. Even from so far away, I can still reach out to you. Even here, you are not immune to my will!
The shadow raised its hand and pointed directly at the robed figure. Immediately he felt very afraid. He knew it was pointless to run, however, for no speed could outrun the powers that this shadow possessed, perfected throughout the many centuries it had ruled its dark domain.
He cringed, awaiting the pain that did not come. So he straightened, and spoke.
“I swear to you it shall be done. I shall bring him home!”
The shadow lowered its hand and receded. The fear lessened, but did not abate altogether. Soft voices drifted down from the window, the mother soothing her young child in the cold winter night.
He couldn’t remember anyone ever speaking to him in such a way. His childhood was a thing not of memory but of fabrication, for so much time had passed that he had forgotten it.
Such is the life of a monster, he thought-more than a century of living, and now forbidden to hunt by his dark master. He knelt in the narrow alley, his eyes staring at the castle that housed the Knights of Falador and towered over the centre of the city.
That was where his quest would take him. For a young squire there knew where his quarry was to be found.