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Welcome to the "Postbag from the Hedge": bringing you insight from some of RuneScape's most talked about monsters and residents.
I'm Postie Pete and I relay the messages you send to to the various characters, monsters and inanimate objects in Gielinor. The replies range from the serious to the funny or down right outrageous. Occasionally they even hint at up-and-coming content.
It should be mentioned, that the nature of the Postbag means that there could be spoilers for past or future content.
Most esteemed Curator,
|I know you must be extremely busy at the moment, with all the planned expansion and renovation to your museum, but I would appreciate the answer to a question burning in my mind about a certain exhibit in the museum's possession.|
|In your upstairs rooms, you have an exhibit on the great desert lands to the south of Varrock. On a recent visit to your museum, I was intrigued very much by these artefacts, as I have made many journeys to the desert and wished to know a little more of its history than I know currently. In your selection of items from the desert, you have a throne and two coffins. As I was examining the throne and the left hand coffin, I noticed a crest upon them. I gazed in wonder and amazement as I realized the two crests were actually those of the Kingdom of Asgarnia. I even journeyed the great distance that separates the two great cities of Varrock and Falador to be sure of this discovery.|
|I was wondering, could you possibly tell me more of this strange thing I have beheld? Was I truly seeing the crest of Asgarnia that was placed upon items brought from the Desert? If this is true, how is that possible? For the Kingdom of Asgarnia and the desert are far apart, and why would the great peoples of the desert place such a crest on these items?|
|I thank you for all the possible information you can provide. For your help, I would gladly make a donation to the renovation and expansion of your museum if you would please direct me how to do that.|
Well, I must say I am shocked by your revelation. As you might know, I don’t spend much time upstairs, but I had always trusted the knowledge of our experts to deliver only the finest quality exhibits. Now the very reputation of the Museum lies in ruins...and fake ruins at that.
I believe these particular examples came from our “Northern Desert History Expert”...a Dr Ali. He described them to us as the “finest in Kharidian craftsmanship”, yet now I realise they are just some shoddy Faladian knick-knack! Rest assured, next time I visit him I will be leaving with more than just a fake beard.
I will make sure that the exhibits are changed for next year’s grand re-opening! Let’s hope your contributions will be well received.
Yours rather un-prehistorically,
Haig Halen Varrock Museum Curator
Okay, so I was bored after I finally got 100 points at Pest Control
|So I decided to wander around places I haven't been in a while. The first place I thought of was Draynor Manor. So I was walking along, opened the door, walked in, and the door - of course - slammed behind me. This would usually frighten people, but I just said, "Meh," and kept walking.|
|I went to visit the coffin of the vampyre downstairs, but on my way...I felt shivers down my spine. I was being watched, the eyes in the paintings seemed to look all around me, but not directly at me. I ignored this and kept venturing on. *Clack clack clack* I quickly swung back, and saw THAT CHAIRS WERE FOLLOWING ME. O M G. I've seen pigs with tongues longer than Gene Simmons (bloodvelds), and I've seen floating heads, animated axes, and even gigantic oversized dogs called hellhounds, BUT CHAIRS THAT FOLLOW YOU? I ask you, was this the Count's idea? If it was, he has really lost his touch....|
|Please respond whoever thought of this idea.|
|Sincerely, Pure K O|
|P.S. I kept calling the chairs noobs but they wouldn't stop following me. I even threatened to take them to the wilderness... Persistent chairs!|
Dear RuneScape Rats,
|Yes, you, the wee tim'rous scurryin' beasties, not the great grey villains who sit an' mope all day. Why is it ye all run in a circle widdershins and never wi' the sun? If ye do it now ye will drill a girt hole in't ground and descend to Evil Dave's basement, transformed intae sulphurous stinkin' red hell rats.|
|Unwind yersels forbye, sith the doom be upon ye!|
|Mad Max Magi|
|P.S. Maybe the wee hell rats have bigger cousins, I hadnae thought of that...|
Mad Max Magi,
Ye be tryin’ tae hornswaggle ol’ rat? Ye old drivelswigger! Abaft the rat be the terror of the high seas, he be binnacled on a floatin’ paradise, all cheese duffle an’ no mistake. All is quaking ‘neath the rats. Blackrat, he be called, an’ there be no ship a-floatin’ ‘gainst his wind.
Afearred of the rats, a curse be laid upon the island an lightnin’ come athwartships, cleavin’ the mast an sinkin’ ol’ Blackrat. Rats too cocky, never watchin’ their backs...never be ready for death! Rats fled to the high seas, leapin’ an’ a jumpin’ in Davey’s grip, always be turning back case the curse be followin’ them.
Rats is never makin’ same mistake twice...but we is running widdershins...pink eyes is never loving sunwards...
Blackrat the Pie Rat MCXVIII
Dwarves, please read this message about you.
|And don't get freaked out afterwards. Read carefully. Twice. I warn you:|
|Sunset shine! Sunset shine! But the dwarves couldnt bear to look!
Sunset set! Sunset set! And the dwarves reach their hand out and took a pickaxe!
Everythin's same in mine! Everythin's same in mine! The dwarves rushed forward for a scorpy!
War fills the mine! War fills the mine! It was loud and excitin' in the mine! The scorpies snip their claws! The dwarves' picks broke!
War fills the mine! War fills the mine! You no what's gonna happen last! Some dwarfy got knocked out of their cave! Scorpies laugh horrible laughs!
|Oh sad endin' oh sad endin', the dwarves lose. The scorpies win. Oh, next time dwarves will win!|
|I said do not get freaked out!|
|Dwarf and scorpy poem by Scyther148|
Dress up big like a flappy bird, happy bird
Hunter strong when the ferrets herd, heretic’s word
Flappy high with twelve willow branches, brillo lunches
Bandos down with hail of punches, pail of hunches
Impy sheep new and shiny, sew and ninely
Curator taught but the kids are whiny, wilds not kindly
Izso easy to make troll king shiver, shoal thing river
Pick it up with the undead quiver, quintet liver
Sing the song for shanty claws, clumpy gores
Seasons pass for animal lores, magical chores
Penguin eyes are low and evil, crunchy weevil
Brutal way for shark retrieval, rather medieval
Trawl along the ancient bed, sucker’s head
Dwarf and scorp are almost dead... Almost dead.
Dear- I mean, Arr Honest Jimmy,
|I'd like to tell ye I'm a great fan of Trouble Brewing, and also from ye. Ye're the swashbuckliest, keelhauliest, scurviest pirate on Mos Le'Harmless. Arr, that it be!|
|Next, I want to ask ye some questions:|
|I hope ye write back soon,|
|Yuccon, a pirate wannabe.|
'Tis always good to find ye've got a fan, even if they are only a fresh-off-the-boat pirate wannabe. Keep up the pirate talk and I'm sure ye'll be a full blooded, 'rum' swillin' buccaneer in no time! Before I start gettin' all bashful, let’s take a look at yer questions.
Well, the warnin' bell be ringin' and the smoke is pretty thick, so it looks like another game is almost over. I'm off te peddle me wares te the others. Keep workin' on yer piratespeak!
Dear Wise Old Man,
|Why did you rob the bank in Draynor village? Why didn’t you teleport somewhere like Varrock, Falador or Edgeville? Also, WHAT DID YOU DO WIITH ELFINLOCKS? Give her blue party hat back! That wasn’t nice! Go to your room! Also, what the heck is under your bed? I thought it was something like a lesser demon from something it said, and also, could you hurry up with destroying the Wizards' Tower? Why can’t you blow it up with that Saradomin staff? Why am I asking so many questions?|
I gather from your letter that you have been quite assiduous in your studies of my little house and my recent activities. Well, my dear chap, I shall start by thanking you for your interest and enthusiasm! It gives me a great sense of satisfaction to see that the world has not forgotten me since I retired from my adventurous life.
In the course of my little escapade in the bank, your friend Elfinlocks was unfortunate enough to get in my way and I was forced to incapacitate her. Now you have written me a letter demanding that I right her wrongs. Perhaps it has not occurred to you that, even if I were to accede to your curt request, it would not benefit you in the slightest!
Allow me to elaborate. In the distant past, when I travelled the world solving people's problems and saving those in distress just as you do today, I held the hope that my efforts would be appreciated and met with appropriate gratitude. But what did I get? When I grew old and the time came for me to retire, I found myself forced into this poxy shack in Draynor Village, neighboured by a pigment-obsessed hag and a 'navigator' whose prowess at knitting exceeds his ability to steer a boat. Not to mention the constant flow of unashamed thieves through the village market! (The hideous harpy who sits gawking through my window will gladly show you a picture of the house as it was when I first came here.) My meek and placid nature notwithstanding, I realised that if I did not take my reward for myself, I would receive nothing at all. So I took up my trusty staff and headed for the bank. I am sure you would be likewise frustrated beyond belief if you were to dedicate a lifetime's effort to the service of others and receive no reward.
Now, let me return to your other questions. I chose the Draynor Village bank because it is convenient and local. Rural branches of banks are useful, and we should make full use of them. Otherwise there may come a day when the Bank of RuneScape closes its outlying branches and the Council has them transformed into trendy wine-bars.
I am indeed mystified by the matter of that creature under my bed. Many times I have persuaded willing folk to rid me of the nuisance, but always it returns. I suspect it to be a subterranean creature forced out of its natural habitat by those ridiculously attired xenophobes who call themselves HAM. On account of its incessant snoring at night, it is not welcome to seek asylum under my bed, and I shall continue to send people to deal with it until it ceases to trouble me.
Finally we come to the question of the Wizards' Tower. As you may have noticed, I have been training my telescope on it for quite some time now. I have not yet finalised my plans, but I do find myself terribly short of runes these days, and I feel that a short excursion to the Tower might solve my problem permanently. But I doubt I will make any move for a considerable time; the powers of Wizard Traiborn are not to be underestimated.
I thank you again for your letter.
Strength through wisdom,
This month...TzHaar! Yes, the Wise Old Man has been researching these odd chaps and has started compiling a dictionary of words. Now, the words don’t work in the same way as our words, so it’s more about the emotion and passion behind the word rather than the literal translation. Apparently.
Jal = Alien, Foreign, Not TzHaar
Mej = Priest, Mage, Magic, also loosely translates as Mother/Father
Xil = Hunter, Killer, Dangerous, Sharp
Kul = Token, Value
Zek = Attack, Harm
Kot = Protect, Save
Kl = Us, We
E = The, It
|Postbag from the Hedge|