The Dawn of Dark Times

Wintumber dragged and dragged, with the ground becoming coated in snow and ice throughout the Tree Gnome Stronghold. Some of the younger gnomes built sleds from logs and raced across the ground, while others skated across the frozen river near the Terrorbird pens by the magic trees which were coated in snowflakes.

"Look around you, the only danger is that of slipping on the ice," Ronthin said as he and Veedi crossed the grounds.

"Well if you were going to attack someone, would you make it obvious?" Veedi asked.

"They're children, most of them are around six or seven years of age, who would want to hurt them?"

"The man who wanted me dead."

"What? That husband-man?"

"Yes, him."

"Are you still having the nightmares?"

"Yes, same nightmare every night."

This was only one of several conversations, or debates in fact, as that was what they were turning into now. Veedi could not accept that her dreams meant nothing, and nobody would listen to her; she felt she was going insane.

In a mountain range, some distance from the Stronghold sat a man who was alone in his hut, looking over the gloomy Burthorpe sky. The shovel was balanced against the rotting front door, and it still provided a grisly reminder of that day all those months ago. Outside was a makeshift grave, with a splintered piece of wood marking it.

"What happened to me?" asked the man.

Husband had no name, he had lost this name several years ago. From then onwards he had always been known as "husband" because that was his name to the only person who knew him, for the only person he had ever really psoken to was his wife, Gwendoline; but now she was dead.

"Why did you do it? Why?" he asked, looking in the direction of the grave. "Everything was working fine, like clockwork, but you could have damaged everything we had been planning, for you were weak!"

He found himself staring directly at the shovel he had buried his wife with, and in a fit of rage he picked it up and kicked the door open, and then he flung it out across the rocks and slopes with all his strength.

"Everything I've ever had they've taken from me," he said through gritted teeth.

Putting your finger on a turning point in time is difficult, but for "husband" it was not; he remembered those days very clearly.

It was spring, and the trees were tall and green, each coated in thick leaves which grew in large numbers. Augustus walked through the woodland with Gwendoline, it was a warm day as the Sun had finally returned from its winter hiding, in what had been one of the worst winters. Now the snow and ice had finally melted, and life began to gain a foothold once more.

"These trees are beautiful Augustus!" Gwendoline exclaimed, breathing in the strong scent of the evergreens.

"The woodland out here is much more peaceful, the one out near Fally is full of thugs, but here there's nothing," Augustus, her husband-to-be, replied.

"Just think, this time tomorrow we'll be married!"

"Tomorrow I will be your husband, and you will be my wife. I never thought this day would come, they said that winter would never end, that the snow and ice would kill off all trade and wealth, looks like they were wrong!"

"This was meant to be."

Augustus and Gwendoline had travelled far from Varrock on the morning of the day before their wedding, to the woodland surrounding Taverley where the trees grew freely and human activity was low. Augustus then looked in the direction of Burthorpe, and the mountains.

"That town looks like a pit, I'd hate to live there, it's so isolated; enough to drive a man insane," Augustus stated.

"Well then, we won't purchase a home there! One of my cousins moved to there, she hated it, said she couldn't sleep for all the trolls did were throw rocks at the home," Gwendoline replied.