Char looked up to see the sun beginning to rise. The very first faint rays of light were playing across the landscape. Once they were behind the wall it wouldn't be visible anymore, but the sky was beginning to lighten and Char knew that soon the citizens of Senntisten would be awake.

She started descending from the top of the wall towards where Zamorak waited. He was regarding the enchanted brick and mortar of the wall curiously. Every now and again energy that flowed throughout it would flare briefly and become visible.

When Char finally brushed past him, indicating that he should follow her, he spoke.

"I've never really been a fan of walls, myself. They serve only to keep out the interesting… and box in the true monsters."

Char turned to her companion in frustration. The rising sun hadn't yet driven out the shadows cast by the wall, but she could see the rest of the city beginning to be illuminated. "The walls of Senntisten keep the people safe. It might be fun for you to face the dangers of the rest of the world, but for those less powerful than us, the walls allow them to live their lives without fear."

Zamorak snorted and turned his face away from Char. "Maybe if there were no walls people would grow up and not need them anymore. Kind of like losing a crutch that you don't need."

Char huffed in irritation. Her philosophical discussion with Zamorak would only delay them. "Come on. Zaros needs us. We can do this later."

Zamorak just shrugged and tagged along. "Do you know why Zaros has called for us?"

"No. Do you?" Char asked.

"Of course."

Zamorak did not elaborate further, and Char didn't want to dignify him by asking. If Zamorak was disappointed by this, he showed no sign of it, as if he would never have imagined that his ambiguous response required any further clarification.

Char did not like Zamorak. She felt that, though he was powerful (and while she would never dream of criticizing her Lord), Zaros might have picked a more worthy general than he. Azzanadra was far more loyal, she had always thought, and while not quite as powerful as Zamorak would likely inspire the forces underneath him with the zealous faith he had in Zaros. Zamorak was too arrogant and perhaps too powerful for his own good.

She had tried to suggest this to Zaros, but he had dismissed her concerns. He was certain that Zamorak was the perfect general, and Char had long since wearied of trying to convince him otherwise.

Zamorak, miraculously, managed to keep his mouth shut until they were at Zaros' opulent door. They had begun to move away from the wall towards the inner part of the city as they progressed, and as the shadows lengthened and the first fingers of the sun began to show over the wall, the luminescence of the fortress grew greater.

"You don't have to hold back, you know, the door isn't made of paper," Zamorak said as she rapped reverently on the door. "I'm sure you can get over your shock and awe at seeing Zaros for the billionth time and exhibit strength a little bit greater than that of a sick dog."

Char turned in fury on the smug Mahjarrat, but just then the door opened and she composed herself. "We have arrived, my Lord, as you have requested. What is your plan for us?"

Zaros leveled his blank eyes at her, then at Zamorak. "Come in," he said, his voice accent-less and cultured. "Would either of you like a drink?"

Char shook her head no, but Zamorak said, "Just a little bit of wine would be divine, my Great Lord," doing a fair impression of the simpering voice Char took on when talking to Zaros.

Zaros looked at him, but merely nodded and headed towards the kitchen. Once Char thought he was out of earshot, she whirled on Zamorak.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed. "We're wasting time!"

Zamorak shrugged. "He offered. And it's summer, I'm thirsty. You might want to calm yourself before you burn the house down."

Char forced her anger down with effort. "Fine," she said. "But you-"

She broke off her words once more as Zaros entered the room, carrying a pitcher of wine. He sat at a table, once again showing the lack of emotion trademark to him. "If you are both satisfied, than we can begin."

Zamorak sat at the table with him, while Char waited until Zaros nodded at her to sit. Zamorak smirked at her and she wanted to wipe the conceited grin off of his face.

"The elven lands have long been of no concern to our campaign, but recent reports have shown that they are beginning to act up. Elven warriros ride forth from Isafdar and threaten our settlements. I am sending you both as scouts to Arandar to investigate. I hope to solve this conflict without further violence."

"Of course, my Lord," Char said. "We need not dirty our hands with more deaths."

She didn't turn to Zamorak, but she could feel his scorn burning into her. Zaros just nodded. "If you both understand the mission, then I have no further need of you here. I want to be done with this issue as soon as possible."

Char stood and bowed to Zaros. "Your will be done, my Lord." Zamorak bowed as well, and they both exited the building.

As they walked, Zamorak turned to her again. "So did you like kissing Zaros' ass, or did you just do it because it reminded you of what happens when he takes you to his bedroom?"

Char was astonished. "You shall not speak of our Lord in this way! You owe him the proper respect!" Zamorak didn't respond. "And in any case, you aren't the one who should be lecturing me on romantic affairs. I hear Enakhra still hasn't left the temple she built for you."

It was Zamorak's turn to scowl. "She should not dwell on useless feelings. The Mahjarrat are not so weak-willed as that."

Char did not pursue the issue, and instead hastened toward the entrance to the city. Outside was a teleport node that would take them near to where they needed to be.

They found the wall again, and walked bestride it. "Here is the wall you hate," she said. "And there is the outside. Danger comes from the outside. We must protect this wall so that danger cannot enter." She said this condescendingly, as though she were talking to a child.

Zamorak's eyes narrowed. "I am not a fool, Char. I understand the principle behind the wall. I simply… disagree with it. Vehemently."

Char snorted. "Fortunately, it's not your job to put up walls. Yours is to knock down those of our enemies. As is mine." Zamorak rolled his eyes.

"And in any case," he said, "I do not hate the wall. I just want it to be burned down with a passion that cannot be matched by any prior experience in my entire life."

"That sounds suspiciously like hate."

"Perhaps to the uninitiated."

They walked for a while. "Why?" Char asked.

"Oh, I don't know, really. I suppose it's how incredibly boring it is behind them."

"What you call boring, most people refer to as safety."

"My point exactly. What's life without a little bit of ungodly terror every now and again? A little fighting, a bit of chaos? Not life at all, if you ask me. In any case, I can't imagine it'll be like this much longer."

Char turned to him in suspicion. "Oh? And why is that?"

He spread his arms and turned around. "Change. Can you feel it in the air? Terribly exciting, if I'm being honest."

"Honesty? That's a first for you, I'm sure."

He did the Mahjarrat equivalent of flipping her off, which didn't bother her all that much since she didn't pay much mind to Mahjarrat cultural expressions.

"Did you bring a weapon?" Char asked after another minute or so of walking. They were nearly at the gate. He produced a poison-tipped dagger from his robe and tossed it from hand to hand. "Good. The Elves may not be the best of fighters, but they're clever, and their weapons are powerful."

Zamorak grinned cheekily at her before sliding the dagger up his sleeve when they arrived at the gate. The guard saluted them as they passed. Char nodded at him, but Zamorak just brushed past.

"Well, let's be off," he said as he stepped into the node. "Wouldn't want to keep the Elves waiting. I hear they're very punctual creatures."

Char stepped after him. As he touched the pillar, for just an instant, she could have sworn something passed through his eyes that looked like regret, before it was replaced with the usual mischievous look.

"No… no, of course not," she said, eyeing him wearily. "That wouldn't be polite at all."

Then they were gone, and the node was as it was before. The walls held back the sun no longer, and it spilled over the verge and illuminated the ground before the guards. The dew on the grass seemed to spark with fire, and all was silent.

So here's my first official foray into the Runescape fandom. For those of you familiar with the lore, you will understand the significance of Zamorak's poisonous dagger.

Read and review! In that order, preferably.