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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.
Dear Ghosts of Draynor Manor,
|I know that this is a pretty grim topic, even for me, but I'd like to ask it anyway. I would like to know what happened at Draynor Manor many years ago. Or maybe it was not even that long ago. On the second floor of the manor in the south-west, that whole room is just torn apart. It's littered with corpses, and blood stains the carpets. Is this maybe where you met your fate? Or is this room just torn apart by many years of decay? And if it is the place you left us in, what happened? How exactly did you die? Was there a war? A fight? Or maybe the vampyre, Count Draynor, did something to you there? I think I speak for eveyone when I ask these questions.|
|Rest in Peace,|
Dear Gr1m Wreaper,
Postie Pete here, writing to you on behalf of our ghostly friends. They struggle to write, you see, mainly because they no longer possess a physical form. It’s a tough existence being a ghost, and the spookiest of Draynor Manor’s inhabitants are pleased that someone has even noticed them. They are sick and tired of being walked through by ill-mannered adventurers and would love for you to know the true, shocking story behind their demise.
The ghosts of Draynor Manor used to be fun-loving socialites who threw massive parties. They invited hundreds of their closest friends to join them for fine dining, fine drinking and fine dancing. Just after all of their guests had left a particularly high-spirited party, the Draynor ladies decided to have a little snack before bedtime: a giant trifle made up of all of the feast’s leftovers. If they could combine all of the remaining desserts into one super-trifle, there would be less tidying to do the next morning. They could not have been more wrong. The resulting combination of dozens of different types of cream resulted in a massive explosion that destroyed the surrounding rooms and transformed the ladies into their current form.
The Draynor ladies used to be skeptical about the effects of over-indulgence, but they found out the painful truth for themselves. If you wish to avoid the fate of these once-happy ladies, I recommend steering clear of super-trifles, no matter how tempting they may be.
Of course, you have to take all this with a pinch of salt; being ignored for hundreds of years would be enough to drive anyone potty and these ghosts no longer possess brains in which to hold their memories.
Dear Mr. Mordaut,
|I was a little surprised when I was first teleported to your little classroom. Nevertheless, I was ever so pleased when you rewarded my intelligence with such a fine book. However, I couldn't help but notice that not all of your students were not as bright as me. I doubt that the giant in the back of the class has paid attention to your lectures at all. My only question is this:|
|What is your relation with the mysterious man? When I visited your classroom, I noticed that it was he who teleported me there. He popped up out of nowhere (a habit of his), and said, "Surprise exam, Aleut2!" Why does he randomly send players to you for your tests? This has been bugging me for quite some time and I would like to receive an answer post-haste.|
Indeed, the quality of your spelling and grammar is most excellent: a testament to your intelligence. You are one of my brighter students. I will say, however, that your use of a double negative - "noticing that not all of your students were not as bright as me" - leaves me somewhat perplexed. Are you suggesting that some of my students are, indeed, also intellectually progressive or was this double negative in error?
The former is the most truthful as, although my students may not look it, they each represent the best and brightest of their respective races. Andre, the giant of whom you speak, is my star pupil. He often finishes work early, so I permit him to doze off for a few minutes. He also leaves shanks of ham on my desk, which makes quite a change from apples.
As for the Mysterious Old Man: well, he approached me at one of his famous fondue parties, set up for potential inductees to his random event programme. Dr Jekyll and the Drunken Dwarf decided to hit the melted cheese early, I seem to remember. The Mysterious Old Man said my classroom was the ideal place to educate the adventurers of RuneScape and offered me an invitation to become his newest random event. I was most pleased to accept.
Dear Tripwire of Isafdar,
|Every time I pass by I try to do it safely. Most of the times it works. Sometimes I slip and hit you! Then your auto-retaliate gets activated and you hit me back!|
|But why, when I have my 'protect from missiles' on, do you still hit me 5-5! That's impossible. Even Jad can't hit through my prayer with his ranging...|
|Do you have a special elven blessing, or even some very expensive anti-prayer arrows? Maybe you have a special wire that disables my prayer for a short time?|
|So my point is; I don't know how you do it! :(|
|Please give me an awnser. I'm very curious!|
|Thanks in advantage,|
|PS. Could you sell me some of your arrows?|
Congrats for the truly wonderful letter, dearest Pep. It was truly wizard and I had a mighty chortle over it. Beating Jad, indeed! What is it you strange adventurers say? Ah, yes - “roflcopters”. I had many roflcopters over your letter.
I am Mr.T Wire, from the family Wire. The Wire bloodline has been piercing adventurers and clumsy oafs of the forest for centuries now. Indeed, we have gotten quite marvellous at it.
To your main inquiry, I say that your prayer will not work, as our arrows are dipped in the tears of rangers. It is a complicated process that my wife, Barb, has gotten quite stupendous at. You should come round to meet her someday, dear chum. We could have crumpets and sing round the piano.
Mr.T Wire, esq.
Dear Princess Astrid
|Hello dear, as it has been many months since I have seen you or my kingdom. When I left you I was a mere knight searching for quests to complete until I found you; I won your heart, completed many quests for my kingdom to become a great king but just as I thought my kingdom was begining to love me, I was called back to the lands of my birth. I have braved many dangers, killed many mighty beasts and now, as I hold the mighty spear I wrenched from the hands of Barrow brother Guthan, I think of my kingdom and you...|
|As I recall, you said we were to be wed and you where finding a priest, it has been over a year now and still there is no priest? And what of the kingdom? Peace has been settled but the islands are definitely not warrior kingdoms and living so close to barbarian settlements makes me uneasy...|
|Hopefully the kingdom is doing well. I will return with an army of the friends I have made since my departure. Please, you have much to tell me - say it all now as I am dying to know what is happening in my kingdom.|
|Also Known as Panthers1970|
Dearest Regent Rilkur,
Ah yes...that. Well, you have to understand, dear, that weddings take time to organise. There's the priest, the food, the dress, the cake...even the invites take time to write and, to be honest, you just can't find the scribes these days.
I've heard tale of a new dwarf invention called a printing press. When I say invention, I mean that he was talking about an idea he had while at the pub and wrote down on a beermat. I remain hopeful that this will be the method of choice, that is, after the years it will take to invent and work out all the pesky bugs. Until then, we'll just have to remain steadfast.
As for the priest, well, I've sent out a few messages via that delightful bouncing skull fellow, but it seems that every time he appears, my guards try to cast Crumble Undead on him. As you can imagine, this is problematic. Again, I've heard whispers that some upcoming novice could well be the forward-thinking priest we need - he should be ready in...oh, ten years or so, give or take.
Do not worry yourself about our barbarian neighbours. I myself have taken the necessary diplomacy well in hand and have found the barbarian leaders to be more than accommodating. Indeed, I'd say that their political technique has taught me many new things and their deftness with an argument has left me speechless many a time. I shall be forever yours...in a few years...when everything is sorted as we'd both want.
|During my travels into the ravaged landscape of Morytania, I stumbled across a ruined castle,where I worked for a mad resident for some time, up until when I stole his prized possession: the ring of the great diplomat Charos! It earned a space in my bank, but that was about it, until one day, slaving for the queen of Varrock, a certain wise old man tells me the legend of my ring (finders keepers, Charos!), but some questions need to be asked a few more times...|
|Thanks for reading,|
|(ps.Pete, if Reldo is getting a little old and his memory's starting to rot (ah, bless his soul), please send this to Historian Minas)|
Despite your comments regarding my age (I'm only 28, I'll have you know!), I shall do my best to answer your questions.
I have read a few short and terrifying stories from Morytania that use Charos as a character, but these are all fictional, and generally make him out to be some sort of cowering and simpering fool. The documents I have detailing his life tend to disagree with these depictions, favouring instead an image of a remarkable man of especially impressive charisma. This, of course, you know, so I shall move on to answer your questions.
It is entirely possible that Charos is still alive. He was in service to the vampyres' ruler, Lord Drakan, and though the histories indicate that Charos fell out of his master's favour, vampirism has a nasty habit of allowing unscrupulous individuals to keep living, or, rather, not living. Even if he was not 'blessed' by his lord in this way, there are some incredibly nasty tales that describe the vampyres employing certain scientists and sorcerers who are capable of keeping a mortal from dying, or raising them from the dead.
As to whether you may have to face him, I honestly cannot know (you might be better advised to ask some fortune teller - if you believe in such absurd mumbo-jumbo). If, however, he has been turned into a vampyre, he may well be a powerful foe, and very likely will want his ring back. After all, if someone came along and stole your favourite trinket, wouldn't you want to find out who had it to get it back?
Oh, and before I forget (and not due to my age or any presumed 'rotting' of my brain), I also uncovered this rather charming painting of Charos's castle, now called Castle Fenkenstrain, I believe.
Dear Tilt and Flippa of the Pinball Random Event,
|I was of the belief that trolls were named after the thing they first ate or the noise it made. If this is true, what in RuneScape could you have eaten?|
It a simple story, so pull up a rock an' I'll tell you.
One day, before Tilt and Flippa were Tilt and Flippa, momma took us out for namin' meal. Troll baby not know what namin' meal will be, so it nice surprise.
We went norf to city, where three yoomans wiv pointy blue 'ats were playing der pinball, but me an' Flippa not know dat yet. Momma told us to go on, an' we took littul tenty-tive steps.
Dey not notice us. One of der yoomans shouted at der one playing. "Tilt!", it said, an' de other one shouted "No, Flippa!". I et der first one, Flippa et der second one, Momma ate the one playing pinball an' we all went home wiv der pinball machine. It were flashin' an covered in pretties.
Der rest is his-story. It involve magic curses, a bet and a lifetime stuck in der pinball machine. It not bad life.
A MODERATELY TERRIFYING HELLO to you all!
I hope you’ve had a STUPENDOUSLY EVIL TIME wandering the lands of Morytania, defeating vampyres and generally unravelling the Myreque mess. I would have helped, of course, but I’ve been too busy putting together a little EVIL something for you all.
You see, not everything in RuneScape is how it seems. I, as a man of the world, have come to know some facts that THEY don’t want you to know. As a CHAMPION OF THE TRUTH (Evil Division) I felt it my duty to inform you…
EVIL DAVE’S THEORY 1 – Firemaking is EVIL
Have you noticed that, when Firemaking, you always travel to the west? WEST! This may seem like nothing to you, but think about it. Think about the word ‘west’.
West is an anagram of STEW!
Is this a coincidence? I think not! Stew is EVIL, as you have no doubt found out from trips to my BASEMENT OF DOOM. Firemaking must then be EVIL too, as it leads you west - the direction of all that is NEFARIOUS, DODGY and DOWNRIGHT NAUGHTY.
It has also led me to believe that over the mountains by Ardougne (where I often go for picnics of SPINECRUMBLING TREPIDATION) there must be a big ocean of stew, with dumplings and bread rolls and a big ladle the size of the Wizards’ Tower.
EVIL DAVE’S THEORY 2 – The mysterious blacknessness
Mummy got me a map of RuneScape (which had Taverley spelt wrongly – pffrt), showing FABULOUSLY EVIL BLACK SQUARES surrounding most of RuneScape! Find a map and look at it, if you dare. They are there, as plain as I am EVIL.
Look to the west (EVIL!) of the Deep Wilderness. A perfect black square. Look near Meiyerditch. Another one! You have to ask yourself – what else is black and square?
Black square shields!
Can you think of anything else that is both black and square? No. Using both maths and logic, we must deduce that the black squares are, indeed, massive black square shields.
Now we know this to be fact, what are the HEINOUSLY EVIL Black Knights protecting under their massive black shields? Massive Black Knights of course! I fear that even EVIL DAVE and his well-trained HELLRAT BERSERKERS will not be enough to stop them.
EVIL DAVE’S THEORY 3 – The Future of Dragons
I often chat to Oziach, and something he said got me thinking:
“Evil Dave,” he said, “Have you heard about dragons?”
“You have always been on the ball, Evil Dave. Have you heard of a steel dragon?”
I sipped my EVIL STEW and nodded again.
He continued: “As well as steel dragons there are mithril dragons. Now, if we consider that this progresses through all the metals, to adamant dragons and rune dragons…”
I could see where Oziach was going with this.
“…then eventually, somewhere in RuneScape there must be a dragon dragon!”
DEAR ZAMORAK! Can you imagine the POWER I would have with a dragon dragon? I would use it to cook EVIL STEW whenever I wanted and fly to the shops in a matter of seconds! Of course, that’s less a theory and more a CATACLYSMIC PLAN OF SUPER-DOMINATION.
I hope my other two theories - which aren’t technically theories - instead, INDISPUTABLE FACTS – enlighten you about the real RuneScape. Adventurers, you must question everything and trust no one, for nothing is as it seems in Gielinor. Not even mummy. Or UNCLE NIGEL.
|Postbag from the Hedge|