It was dark. Too dark for a man of the light. Yet, here he found himself… Straying from his path of righteousness and into the foul Northern wilderness. It was a far cry from his home back in Asgarnia; a humble chapel on the shores of the Southern Sea, where the windows would welcome in the glorious sunlight and the walls were soothed by the soft whispers of the waves. Alas, this was a very different place. The salty scent of the sea air was replaced with the stench of blood and brimstone, and the gentle breeze that would caress his beard had been shunned away by vicious winds that threatened to blister his skin. The charred earth cracked under his feet as he ventured further into the barren lands. These parts had been untouched by sane folk for centuries; feared and avoided by all who valued their lives. Not since the Unholy One laid Forinthry to ruin had it welcomed any guests, deterring even the bravest of adventurers with its cruel climate and crueller creatures that dwelled within the darkness. And yet, here he was; Father Badden, a good servant of Saradomin, in this evil wasteland. 

Of course, he was not here without good reason. Ever since that fateful day that Guthix had awoken from his slumber and cast the deities of Gielinor into The Void, Badden had dedicated his days to bringing the Holy One back from the beyond. And whilst Guthix had since abandoned the planet, his power remained in place and the act of releasing Saradomin from his dimensional prison remained as challenging as ever. Fortunately, it seemed as though Saradomin continued to bless this realm with his miracles; the most recent of which came in the form of a visitor to Badden's chapel.

He was quite a mysterious fellow, draped in dark black cloth and his face obscured by an excessive hood. Whilst he had remained nameless, he had alerted Badden to the presence of an ancient ritual ground; apparently erected by Saradomin himself to allow his return should such circumstances arise. Whilst the priest had initially remained skeptical even after the departure of his anonymous visitor, further research proved that such a site did exist in the deep wilderness. Though its purpose had previously been unknown, Badden knew immediately what he had to do. 

As he reached the brow of the hill he had been scaling, his eyes widened. There it stood; a circular plinth of dark stone, out here in the middle of nowhere. It was quite an unimpressive sight to behold; what had shocked the holyman was what stood atop it, shrouded by both his black robes and his solitude. A figure that, though his features were masked by his hood, seemed all too familiar to Badden. At this moment, he knew he should turn back - but what if this ancient site was indeed capable of returning His Holiness to Gielinor? Ignoring such an opportunity would be a disgrace to his faith and his God; to his whole life. Thus, he proceeded. Maintaining a facade of stone, he approached the man with concealed caution. As he drew closer to the spot, he noticed a strange symbol carved into the rock. A circular frame containing a cross, with compass points on the outer ring. It beckoned something deep within his memory to come forth; alas, its origin escaped him. He was certain he had seen it before… 

"You recognise this mark," came the familiar voice of the man who had visited him, confirming his identity. "Like most of our empire, it has been forgotten by most… Alas, that is not why we are here." His words ensnared Badden's curiosity and pulled him forward. Yet, he did not speak… Something about this strangers entrancing manner told him to keep quiet. "You are a man of purity. Your life has been spent in servitude… And unlike most of us, you have not sinned." As he spoke, Badden drew closer still, until he was less than a foot away from the strange, cloaked figure. The atmosphere was tense; it seemed as though in that moment, the winds that stripped the land bare ceased to blow, and the land fell silent as the cold moonlight made a feeble effort to illuminate the wilderness. "Only one as pure as you can bring back our Lord." Now, after an uncomfortable pause, it was Badden's turn to speak. 

"What must I do?" the cleric asked, with an instilled air of confidence. He would prove useful in returning Saradomin to Gielinor after all. Oh, he could only dream of how the Holy One would reward him for his efforts upon his return. The stranger chuckled somewhat sinisterly, startling Badden.

"You must die." A flash of silver darted before Badden's eyes as a bejewelled athame was swiftly withdrawn from within the man's cloak. A shot of red, as Badden fell to the ground; his neck stinging and warm as he drew his last breath and his crimson blood pooled on the cold, hard stone.