Far, far away and yet so close, is the world of Runescape. The world where the sun never comes down and always shines cheerful rays. But once in the time, so suddenly that no-one can prepare for it, the town criers all over the world warn people to get off from Runescape.

“You’ve got 3 minutes to leave. Please, leave Runescape!”

The count down has started. Of course many will just stay on to see what happens when they don’t get off. The answer is quite simple, they get kicked out. Even the animals and other creatures understood what was happening and went off too.

The town criers were breathing deeply, but did not show how tiresome the kicking was. With a fixed smile they explained: “We are the representatives of our towns”. Then they too were getting off one by one, still giggling with a teasing accent about the answer.

But here, hiding in one of the many secret underground dungeons, a guy named “123_I_Am_In” managed to escape his kick. He was now wandering through the streets as the last person on RS. His scream of glory and pride echoed through the street as he made jumps of joy and bunny hops on a bench till it broke down. Then he ran away as if someone would punish him for his deed. Suddenly he stopped running, realising it was useless and looked up to the huge gate. Words were engraved in it: “You shall not pass this gate if you are F2P”. The words had no use, because he knew there were no guards. He passed the gate laughing and stole from the markets stalls; a man has to fill its stomach. While he was eating, the sky turned darker than ever before and the only sounds came from him crunching the cake and a “Wizzz…” far away.

“Who’s there?!”

The silence answered.

He shook his head and ran away, back to the F2P territory. He ran back to the safety behind the mighty walls of Falador. There he sat down next to the bench he had broken. His breathing was heavy, he looked up the grey sky and closed his eyes.

“Wizzz…!”

He looked up scared and wanted to run away, but his body was frozen by his fear. A young woman floated in his direction. She wore a black hooded robe, so he could not see her eyes, but her face looked to him. Her black clothes, darker than he had ever seen before, fluttered against his leg. She looked up, her grey eyes did not met his. Her arm was stretched and touched the oak, “Wizzz…!”. Oaks logs formed to repair the bench. Then she turned around to 123_I_Am_In. Her cold hand touched the warm, shivering guy’s forehead. His body and clothes began to glow and turned white. Then she floated even higher above the ground and took the white substance up the sky. Like a top she turned around, faster and faster and faster, till the poor guy passed out…

Now whenever you pass the gates of Falador, remember his name, ’cause he will be watching you from every building made of the innocent looking white stone.

THE END