The Lady in Black

The sun rose over a new day, brightening the sapphire blue sky and awakening the citizens of the sleepy village of Lumbridge. Farmer Fred was already counting his chickens, and the Castle Chef was putting a soup to boil. Dee looked around for his "staff", and the Fishing Tutor cast out his bedraggled nets. And while the town began to slowly move into it's daily routine, Stan Charles slept silently in his comfortable bed. A bell rang in the church. Stan awoke with a shock, looking around his room. It was a fairly large room, with mahogany furniture and opulent fabric. Light dragged itself through the patterned windows and made crazy shapes across Stan's bedspread. Slowly but carefully, he crawled out of his bed and dragged himself over to his wardrobe. He took a glance at his gilded clock. 7:30am. Ripping clothes from his wardrobe, he frantically dressed himself and punched down on a Varrock Tele-Tab - it was half-an-hour after his shift was supposed to start.

He landed in Varrock Square, sprinting past tired bankers and finally arriving at the Grand Exchange.

"Is old Joanus here yet?" asked Stan urgently at the desk.

"No. Don't worry, the old hypocrite's been late the last week anyway." replied Chris.

Joanus Bentley was not the most pleasant of men. He was callous, industrial and down-right rude and he was also a hypocrite. It was a combination of these tendencies and a rather ugly face that made him one of the most un-pleasant men in Misthalin. In fact, he had gained a rather un-savory nickname - The Bulldog. The Bulldog, if you would like to know, was currently stranded on a desert island around Karamja, and would not be visiting the Grand Exchange. Stan took out his keys and sat down behind the counter.

"Good. I can't risk another pay-decrease. I was ruined enough by the war. Why couldn't they have just shaken hands and have had done with it?"

"Oh, come on, war doesn't work like that. At least we're back in business."

"For how long? You've got to admit, something's always going to be wrong in this world, there's always gonna be a problem. We can't avoid it. I swear - I bet that something big's gonna happen today. I can feel it. "

"You're too pessimistic - look on the bright of life for once. You won't live long if you don't look on the bright side. Look at the sun-shine!"

Stan sighed and shifted some beads on his abacus. This level of dullness lined his days and somewhere, deep down inside him, wished that life was more adventurous. As if he was being hunted. As if any one of these retarded warriors would swing round this moments and take claim on his life. But no. Stan was a teller, and nothing more.

The day passed by, and soon the amount of people at the exchange dwindled. His regulars of course, those people who worked solely to get profit, stayed up through the night, but as this trade was as uncommon as a bald squirrel, soon only a few chatting children left at the gates. As dusk set upon the exchange, Stan sighed and looked up into the open sky. He blinked, repositioned his glasses and then gasped as he saw something rather unusual - a black cloud. Now black clouds aren't unusual per say, but this cloud was different. A single jet black cloud hovered in a fairly clear night sky. It was slowly growing. Growing suspiciously fast.

"Look!" said Stan. The cloud was now several meters in circumference, and was spitting drops of black liquid down onto the tellers. "This doesn't look good."

The group of children was dissipating. The girls were screaming, the men roaring, and the clerks were running into the central column, which led to a series of underground bank vaults. The scene was a chaotic one. Stan and Chris sat perfectly still, staring into the distance at something slightly more significant - Black Knights, camouflaged into the night.

A troop of around five-hundred tall, bulky men dressed in worn, black armour marched angrily into the gates of the Grand Exchange, led by an even taller figure in trailing black robes that covered it's features. Unlike the soldiers, who had a firm posture and toughness, the leader was undisinguishable. There was no bodily stature, no curves, no bumps, nothing to distinguish from male and female, especially in this light. The thing that disturbed Stan the most, despite these features, was that the figures were walking in a straight line towards him.

The Knights had taken their swords from their belts, and were slaughtering the reacting Guards. The back row of soldiers had began to spread a thick black power in a ring around the Exchange. Stan had seen an operation like this before; they were using gunpowder. Stan and Chris were now stood up, perfectly still with their hands in the air. The figure leaned over the desk.

"Good Boys," said the figure. The voice sounded like that of a woman, and it was smooth. Unless there was something quite wrong with her, Stan now definitely thought that the figure was female. Stan could now see that her hands were encased in thick, black gloves. "Now, give me the keys to the central column and you won't get hurt.Today..."

"I'm afraid I can't do that unless I have a reason." said Chris calmly.

"You wanna reason? I'll give you a blinking reason! I'll kill you stone dead!" The woman's voice became shrill and she withdrew a large scimitar, one that was strangely already dripping with blood. This woman was clearly not one to be bartered with.

"Stop messing around and get the keys!, Okay, we'll do it. Just don't kill us, okay?" said Stan.

The figure relaxed, and the cloth on her head flinched. "Why would I kill pretty things like you?" she whispered.

Chris passed the key to Stan, who then put it into the central column and opened the rope lift. The lift was composed of a wooden board, several ropes and many, many pulleys. It seemed so simple, yet so new.

"Thank you" said the figure, "Guards! Follow!" She began to walk into the lift. Chris looked round at Stan, a look of pure insanity, and then at the figure. He then jumped into the lift and threw a blow with his fist at the figure's face. She blocked the fist with almost lighting like reflexes and stabbed him deep in the chest with her scimitar.

"It's a shame. He was such a pretty thing." She moved the body out of the lift and looked straight at Stan. "Come with me. You know here I can find what I want. And hopefully, you won't be as stupid as your friend."

"Depends on what you wa...." Stan stopped. It was no time for heroics. this could be the last night of his life. "I'd be offended if you hadn't asked me. May I lead the way?"

"As you wish." The figure ushered two soldiers into the lift with herself and Stan. He pulled a lever and the ropes began to lower the board slowly into the depths of Varrock. The Dungeon was composed of a long corridor, surrounded by tall, steel doors. Before the vaults began, there was a small lobby. He slowly opened the door to the vaults, seeing the other tellers hiding in the shadows. The lift was moving again - no doubt to collect the rest of the soldiers. Stan thought for a minute and then glanced at the door.

"May I be permitted to go first? My colleagues are in there. I think I can persuade them to come out quietly." His voice was trembling, both in excitement and fear.

"If you're lying, I'll kill you." the figure said calmly. A drop of Chris's blood fell from her weapon.

"A question," inquired Stan while looking round the door, "What's your name?"

"My name is of no importance to you. For purely in-formal reasons, you many know me as Xenocrates."

"Right..." Stan carefully sneaked into the dark room. Candles flickered on the wall. "I'm going to get you out of here!" he whispered. He searched his pockets until he found what he needed - a Varrock Tele-tab. "Hold hands and crush it!" As they teleported away, Stan locked the door to the lobby, much to Xenocrates' annoyance. He then locked all of the vaults up to maximum. The soldiers were banging against the door, their force growing stronger every minute. The door's hinges were weak, built to resist impact from one or two men - not 500. The sound of metal-on-metal echoed throughout the dungeon.

Xenocrates was screaming an insane scream as the door finally broke down and all of the soldiers fled into the vault room. Stan quickly searched his pockets and then saw something - a broken teletab on the floor. He stood on it, and was teleported to the Grand Exchange desk. He quickly locked all of the lift doors, his fingers becoming numb while fiddling with the lock and listening to the sound of the elevator. The soldiers were trapped. As Stan picked up the body of Chris, he could still hear Xenocrates' insane screams echo through his head.