Fist of Zamorak

Chapter 1

To those who understand and manage to unveil the hidden secrets. Story revolving Zamorak, story of my life.

Chapter 1

I open my eyes and took in my surroundings. My head’s filled with lead and chills continually  trickles down my spine. The feeling of being lost leaves a sensation of weakness in my torso; I have no idea where I am. No traces, not even the vaguest of memories offer recognition. The dark room gives off a mysteriously acrid and unfriendly aura. 

Glancing around nervously, I see somber portraits staring at me from behind layers of dust, seemingly penetrating my very being. Cold, hesitant light streams in through a cracked window, casting eerie shadows on the walls

"Its probably a dream, a bad one." I think about pinching myself to rend the illusion but the urge is silenced by the rope binding across my wrists. This is something more than a dream, an adventure I'd never hoped to dream of.

I manage to undo my binds; some previous struggle with the ropes has left my wrists bloody and stinging. The door, however, isn’t going to be as easy. The lock is complex and amateur methods won’t work here. Just like humans, every object has a weakness. The hinges are remarkably flimsy for the embellished door. I pick up a rock the size of a human skull from nearby and bash the hinges until they break open. The magnificent mahogany door falls flat and surrenders. I slither out of the room, remaining as quiet and vigilant as possible. 

I am quite surprised. No guards, no traps, no obstacles, nothing? Nothing to stop me from escaping? It feels as if I am allowed to walk free. The feeling of paranoia grows between the blades of my shoulders.  It is a maddening sensation. I would rather prefer guards than this huge confusion about everything. 

But how did I get here in the first place? What is this place anyway? "Well, lets discover", I said to myself.

I remain alert for any possible scenario as I move through rooms and pass several doors. This mysterious collection of walls and floors is reminiscent of a mansion, a mansion with some serious maintenance issues. It’s quite clear no one has lived here for quite a while. The house's walls showed black decay, caused by neglect and splotches of original paint hinted at the mansion's former prosperity. The mansion was empty and apart from a huge bed there was no furniture either.

I voyaged the entire place to find a huge metal door as my way out. Walking away, I notice dead trees and withered plants surround the house. A pungent stench hanging from the trees gives me the impression that they were poisoned. 

I walked for hours south of the mansion. No sign of humanity graced my trek, "Was i the only person alive?" That feeling did not last long as I came in the vicinity of an old rusty signpost :

Daynor Village - West

Meydane Mill- South

Selia Manor- East

That was some relief, but there were so many questions dwindling in my mind. Hunger’s fangs tear at my stomach as I walk down the street of Daynor Village.

Daynor does not seem to have many inhabitants. Cross glares and furrowed brows lead me to believe they have even fewer sociable inhabitants. I doubt anyone in the town has any affinity to strangers. The rocky road leads me to the town center. A ring of shops line the road as the pavement expands into a large circle and then narrows into four equidistant roads.

I walk the ring until I find an open shop. The earthy smell of grains soothes my tense form as I enter the dim shop. Baskets filled to the brim with countless types of seeds fill my vision. The air in here is moist and cool, a stark contrast to the summer-baked street only feet away.

A man with a cowboy hat runs the seed shop. He’s different from the others, kinder. He addresses me with the warmth of a kinsman. 

“Hey, I’m Mruango, what are you looking for?”

It’s a hard question to answer, given the day I’ve experienced. My throat locks as I open my mouth, a sharp cough comes out. Mruango seems to understand my fatigued anxiety.

"You seem worried, is something wrong?" he says in an eager voice.

I tell him about everything that happened today. 

He is speechless for a second. After an uncomfortable silence he vows to help me, to unravel the mysteries.

As the sun sets Mruango insists I stay at his place for the night. But I'm not sure if I can trust him, how can I? There even lies a possibility that Mruango was involved for my state back in the Mansion, the reason for him to invite me over without any hesitation. Maybe back in the day we used to be enemies, or worse, friends.

Then again I was unsure. "He's just trying to help", I said to myself. "I have nothing to lose now, no place to go to" So with some self-forced optimism, I started following Mruango to his house.

The house is made up of red bricks, supported by wooden frames. It surprises me that a seed farmer would keep his house so perfect. Everything lies in its proper place; what a total neat-freak! The food he prepared was out of this world too. This may just be my stomach speaking, but it was quite possibly the best meal I’ve ever had.

As I dress down for bed I find a small length of parchment in my pocket. The top of the parchment reads:

"Robs Arms and Weaponry, opposite SunShine Inn, Meherock"

It is probably a receipt from the looks of it. Something about Meherock sticks in my head. The name had a familiar ring to it, but I just couldn’t figure it out! Maybe some sleep would help.

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