RuneScape:Wiki Post/Fan fiction/Chasing a Dream


 * Note: This is the first part of the first chapter of the Streets of Varrock Series, that can also be followed on the Runescape Fan Fiction Wiki at Streets of Varrock Also, please vote in the poll below and/or leave a comment in the discussion page.

Chasing a Dream
Streets of Varrock by 4ndrepd

It was Fentuary, the seemingly endless plains were scorching, almost burning, under the sun. He could feel drops of sweat running down his forehead as the final crops of that year were being picked by dozens of farmers, including himself. «Not anymore» he thought with the shadow of a grin in this face. It was only one day, one afternoon, until he would be finally free.

He was Jack Brown, a simple and humble farmer that worked on wheat fields his whole life, since his parents were killed. He stopped for a moment, contemplating the sun, the evening sun he so much liked. The golden colour of the wheat matched the colour of the sun perfectly. Suddenly, a strong, rough voice rang through the field.

«'The hell you looking at, boy?» yelled a man «Back to work! Now!»

It was Ackley, a farmer who owned that wheat field, and, by mere coincidence, his guardian since Jack's parents died, when he was only 5 years old. Ackley was a mean old man, always picking on him, forcing him to work all day in his farm, sometimes even beating him up whenever he made some blunder or mistake, giving him garbage food to eat, that is, luckily soggy bread with dusty cheese... He hated him, since the day he was appointed his guardian. He made quite a good impression of kindness and politeness to the inspectors to get to be his guardian, though, as he suspected even in that time, that wore off pretty quickly as he made him a free worker in his farm.

After picking some dozens of bails of wheat, he decided to stop. Ackley would not let him, of course, so he hid himself in a shed nearby. He closed the doors, so Ackley couldn't find him. He put himself comfortable, leaned back his head against a stack of hay and, out of exhaustion, slowly drifted to sleep...

It was a cold day of Wintumber. Not just any day, it was Christmas day. He was 5 years old. All his family was together to have Christmas dinner. The turkey was delicious, his house was beautifully decorated, and he still remembered the day he spent with his friends and family, in the snow fields nearby, having snowball fights with his friends. Even the Dranyor Manor was covered in a thick layer of snow, so that the usually creepy house in which few dared enter had now a festive look about it. His mother, great at cooking, had made the dinner and invited the all the family. Cousins, uncles and aunts, grandfathers and grandmothers, everyone was apparently enjoying themselves.

«Mmmm… Simply del-icio-us…» said his aunt, my mother's sister. «How do you do it?»

«It's simple,» she began, with that slow, motherly voice that so tenderness inspired on him. «You just wait until it's half baked and add just a touch of garlic and spice to it. Then you continue baking as normal…»

«Ah, I see. I'll try it.» she said with a broad smile.

Then someone knocked at the door.

«Who is out there!» his father said.

No answer was given. Only a faint breeze could be heard, air gushing slightly from an open window. Everybody went slowly silent so as to hear the visitor's voice.

«Who is it, I ask!»

Again, no answer. The breeze was getting colder.

His father stood and walked to the door. The breeze was getting even colder and it was gushing with more and more force through the window. The people at the table were now slightly scared. His father took a deep breath and opened the door... He could remember no more.

He suddenly woke up. That memory had come unexpected. Even though 13 years have passed, he still had nightmares about it frequently. Head buried in his hands, he started to cry silently. If he only still had them… His whole life would be so different… Sighing deeply, though, he adopted the position he had adopted his whole life: Let it go. Do not think about it. Move forward. Yes, he would do that. Very soon, in fact… He had already planned it out. He would stay in his house for a last time, to collect his things, as he knew how dangerous it was to travel at night. Then, as soon as the morning broke, he would grab his pack and head north, past the Dranyor Manor, and, with luck, he would be in Barbarian Village before dusk. Then he would set off towards the east, and would finally, after years of waiting, get to Varrock! Then his cousin would help him out, help him get a job (not related to agriculture, he expected) and have a good life there, in Varrock. He got up, exited the shed, and went to collect more wheat, before Ackley could get a chance to pick on him again.

Finally, it was night. Having just been told from Ackley to call it a day, he didn't need telling twice. Heading home as quickly as he could, he grabbed the half packed bag he left on his bed and continued packing. Looking onto it, he saw a bit of parchment, a worn-out pencil, some playing cards, and a frame with a portrait on it. The portrait had the picture of a laughing baby being held in the arms of a short, plump woman with straight hair and a tall man, at least a foot taller than his wife, with his arm over her shoulder. They were all happy, especially the baby, whom the photograph caught at mid-laugh. Jack smiled to himself for a while, before putting the picture down and continuing packing again.

There was a small watch, a gift for his 4th birthday, a marvel of dwarven technology. He left it on his bedside table, to remember to wear it tomorrow. He stood up, walked to the small cupboard and withdrew a small amount of cash. Taking it back to his bed, he sat down, counting it. It was only 403gp, enough to buy something to eat. He had taken a sandwich with cheese to eat for lunch, and nothing else, as he hoped he would reach the Barbarian Village before it was night. He also got a small steel dagger from a drawer, and blew the dust off it. He got more assorted belongings, including a pair of leather gloves, some old socks, and a bit more cash he found under the bed. Thinking hard to see if he had not forgotten anything, he withdrew the pencil and the sheet of parchment from his bag and begun to write a note to Ackley. Even though he had wanted to leave that place ever since he got under his custody, he had refrained from doing so, as it was the law that he could not leave until he was eighteen years old. He paused a little to reread the note:

"'To Mr. Ackley, When you read this note, I would be probably on my way to Varrock. Before my parents died I was loved, had a family, friends, people who cared for me. Ever since they died, and I got under your custody, I have known nothing in yours hands bur negligence and cruelty. I was nothing more to you than a free worker. Well, that ends today. I am not telling where I will go, but, rest assured, it will be a long way from here. Goodbye, Jack Brown'"

After finishing reading the letter, he folded it, and perched it visibly on the top of his desk. Rubbing his eyes, he checked his watch: it was already almost one in the morning. Yawning openly, he laid down in his bed and, though he could barely contain his excitement, within a few minutes he was sleeping.

Jack awoke next morning with the sun against his face. He stayed in bed for a while, mentally reviewing his travel plans. «North, Barbarian Village, then east, to Varrock, then to his cousin’s.» Smiling slightly, he slowly raised himself from bed, only to receive a shocking surprise as he locked at his watch: it was already 10am! Jack swore loudly. Grabbing his clothes, his watch and his steel dagger, he cast the room a last, sweeping look. He swung his pack over his shoulder, and ran towards the door.

He walked fast towards the crossroad near Dranyor Manor and turned north, speeding past the wheat and cabbage fields. As he realized that, at last, he was a day away from Varrock, he broke into a run. After a while, though, he felt something collide with his legs and soon his head contacted painfully with the soil. Turning around on the ground, he saw none other than Ackley, laughing heartily, clearly having just tripped him up.

«So you thought you could just disappear, like that...» he said, still laughing. «Leaving nothing but this?» he said, waving the crumpled letter in his fist.

«I’m eighteen» Jack shot back. «I can-»

«I don’t give a damn what you can and what you can’t! You can’t just leave like that!» Ackley roared. «You are coming back right now, boy, right now!»

«No, I won’t. I’ve been taking your crap since I was 5! Now I can leave, and you won’t stop me!»

«Oh is that so? We’re gonna see about that» he said meneacely.

He tried to grab Jack by the arm, but he dodged and ran for it. Ackley, however, seemed to have expected resistance and snatched a small blackjack from inside his jacket and ran after him. Jack had expected to outrun the old man, but he soon found himself on a dead end, with Ackley, panting, blackjack in hand, ready to force him back to the farm.

«So here we are again» Ackley said, waving his blackjack slightly. Jack saw no way out... Only if...

«So... will you come by your own, or will I have to drag you back. Because, you know, my rheumatism is worse every day.» he said, cackling loudly «Come on, spare me and yourself and just-»

For Jack had just grabbed his dagger and lunged forward towards Ackley. He instantly and prepared to take a swing at Jack. As Ackley swung his blackjack, though, Jack dived and narrowly evaded the wooden stick. Then, before he had time to turn around and take another swing, he kicked him in the chest, grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground and threw it at him. Jack then grabbed the blackjack and, as Ackley tried to get on his feet he swung it hard at the man’s generous belly. Making sure he would not move too soon he dropped the blackjack on his head and started running towards north again.

Soon he has walked past Dranyor Manor, in a relatively uneventful journey, apart from an unpleasant encounter with an oddly shaped tree near the end of his journey. Nightfall was approaching quickly, and Jack had to hasten to reach Barbarian soil before dusk. The gates of the town, he knew, were closed as soon as the sun was no longer visible on the horizon. Therefore he sped up to reach the town as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, though, the the night fell before he could even glimpse the town in the distance. His failure to awake at the right time, plus Jack’s encounter with Ackley cost him precious time. Only within minutes could he sight the town and, later, reach its gates.

He considered his options: he could try to scale the walls and get inside undetected, knowing as he did that he was subject to the pointy spears of the fierce Barbarian guards, or he could sleep outside, exposed to bandits and animals, and wait for the morning. As he reflected upon these options, he heard someone approaching. Snatching his dagger, he turned towards the source of the noise. «A guard», he thought. Walking slowly, his dagger held high, he prepared to engage a guard at any time. Suddenly, though, he felt something collide with his side as he was thrown off his tracks and into a mud patch. Turning to face his attacker, he received a blow to his head with the hilt of a sword. He tried to kick his attacker, and was mildly successful, for the man has grunted with pain and staggered back a few paces. He tried once again to face his attacker, but he pressed a dirty dagger to his throat.

«Wait! Stop! Please, I'll give you money, please, stop!» Jack cried in panic. «Who are you! What do you want!»

«Who are you!» the man bellowed.

«I'm a traveler! I'm just trying to enter the village, please, let me go!»

«Are you not a guard?» he asked a little less louder.

«No, I'm not, please just let me-»

The man immediately lifted the dagger off Jack's throat. Panting slightly, he tried to get on his feet, and the stranger helped him up.

«Sorry about that…» he mumbled. «I thought you were a guard… I'm trying to enter the village too. Sorry…»

«No… No problem.» Jack said, still panting a little.~

They stayed in silence for a few seconds, and it was the stranger who spoke first:

«I'm Frank, Frank Bell» he declared.

«Jack Brown. It's, er, nice to meet you.»

«So… You're trying to get in, too?» Frank asked.

«Yeah. Don't think I can, though, with these damn guards all over the place…» Jack said bitterly.

«Oh, don't worry about that. I've found a way in!» he said excitedly.

«You did?»

«Yeah! Come, I'll show ya.»

They sped in silence along the wall, occasionally retreating to the trees when they saw a guard. At last, they stopped in front of a portion of wall that, now that Jack took a closer look, had a small hole in it. Frank turned to him and beckoned him inside.

«You first!» he said encourangly.

«Er…, maybe,… maybe you first…» he said, still suspicious. Frank's smile faltered a little.

«Come on, I won't do anything to you, it was just a misunderstanding back there…» he said.

Jack was still uncertain, but for some reason he could not quite understand he went onwards through the hole. He crawled through the mud, and got up quickly, ready to face a guard, but there was nobody in sight. Soon, Frank also got through the hole and got to his feet.

«Awesome! Halfway there!» Frank declared

«Halfway? What do you mean» Jack asked, intrigued, though he suspected what the answer would be.

«Oh, of course. I didn't tell you where I was headed. I am just staying for the night, then I will set off to Varrock. I'm moving there, you see…»

«Really? Me too!» Jack replied enthusiastically.

«Awesome! Maybe we could go together…?» he asked tentatively.

«Yes!, that would be great!» Jack agreed.

«Ok then, let's go to the inn and have a good night of sleep.»

«Yeah, I need it…»

And as they strode towards the inn and into their respective rooms, Jack could only think of how different his life was truly going to be. In less than 24 hours, he would be in Varrock, with his cousin, loads of money, and with a friend with a goal in common. Delightfully elated, Jack went to sleep, wanting, more than he did in a long time, to wake up early the next day.

Poll
What did you think of this story? Should I continue on with the series? Awesome job, I enjoyed it immensely. I think you should continue writing. Don't give up! Good story. But if you want to continue or not is your business... Mediocre so far. That's no reason not to continue, of course. Horrible. I think continuing it is a waste of your time. Don't even try.