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|The Postbag from the Hedge is written for fun and the information contained in the letters is not to be considered canon unless otherwise mentioned.|
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 Poll Trolls(or whatever you are called),
|Do you ever get paid? If so, what are you paid? How do you count the votes? Are there rules to being a Poll Troll?|
|Have there been any trolls who cheat and change the ballots?|
|Please respond to my friendly inquiries,|
Dear Meep Master2,
We might look like trolls, but that is not what we is. Trolls is stupid, we is orks and much more cleverer than thems trolls. You can spot the difference between us and trolls, cos we look more handsome and braver.
Us Poll Orks do not get paid for what we do, cos it is a privurlege to work hard for demmocrassy. Only the most special and intelagent orks are chosen to serve the mighty polls, and we is proud of our job. It ain’t easy countin all them votes as each person makes their dessizions; we have to be fast and ackyoorate to make sure we doesn’t miss any. The countin can be tuff, but we work togevver to add it all up. Each one of us has a speshal job to do, from puttin the votes into piles, to doin the countin, to rightin the numbers on the bord.
There is many rules for bein a good poll ork, and the main one is bein onnest. We had one ork what tried to change the votes to what he wanted to win, but we spotted him and he was sentenssed to a lifetime of cleanin our poll ork yewniforms.
I hope that my anssers have learned you something about what we does. Happy voting!
Poll Ork 91837
Dear King Black Dragon,
|My friends and I have been puzzling over a problem - a dragon-related problem. the problem that we thought of, was: Are you any relation to Elvarg? A brother? A long lost cousin? An uncle? Or even...the father? If so - or if you have no idea who that is - please reply!|
|Your friend ( even though I'm burnt by dragon fire),|
Your attentions are misplaced. Threats gather quietly, like steam on glass, yet your head is filled with the threads between things. This is the way of the flesh-formed: to attempt to find order when confronted by chaos, even when chaos is fanged and baying.
I have learnt to talk in your terms. Think of dragons as rivers, flowing from a single mountain. The source, material and purpose are kin. Yet, each river carves a path to the purpose in a singular manner, caring not for the others unless their paths cross. While one river may be larger or faster than another, no river can claim to be a relation of another. This abstraction is dragon.
Now lift your head from this paper and uncover your compass. At each point sits a danger. You would be wise to take their heads.
Dear King Roald,
|Ok, let me get straight to the point. Your city has horrified me beyond belief. From the poverty-stricken areas of the south, to the undead roaming the town's sewers, to the starving dogs walking the streets, your city will soon fall into rubble.|
|Now, I don't know what your advisor is telling you, but it is wrong. You are building up the northern part of your city for the rich, but you forget about the southern part of the city! Part of it is already collapsing into its own filth, and thieves and cutthroats stalk the alleyways, waiting for an unwary traveller to come by (in fact, you have two gangs of thieves feuding right now! Do something about that!).|
|Guards every day are stolen from or killed right in your streets! And, just today, when I was visiting a good friend named Aubury, a mugger attacked someone! I quickly intervened, and to my surprise, the mugger dropped six water runes! Now, six water runes in itself is harmless, but what if they were combined with earth and body runes? He could use magic to weaken his victim, and then kill them!|
|So, what do you say to all this? Are you just ignoring all of this crime and poverty going on? Or are you doing something to stop this? It just makes me sad to see one of those stray dogs whine because they have little food (oh, and, by the way, those strays are bothered everyday by uncaring adventurers!).|
|It breaks my heart!|
|Please, if you are not already doing something about this, please do so in the near future to save your city from the corruption which has taken the southern part of your city!|
|Your (frustated) traveler,|
As you know, the King of Varrock is a busy man. Much of the day-to-day dealings with commoners must be screened, so he does not dilute his attentions with the petty interests of his citizens and can, instead, focus upon the greater dangers to his glorious Kingdom. As such, it falls to me, Aeonisig Raispher, to reply to your impertinent letter.
Varrock is a magnificent city, and well we know the division of classes that has built up over the centuries. The "poverty-stricken areas of the south" that you speak of are not a woe to our great people, but a part of the culture. You see, if it were not for the distribution of wealth, how could you appreciate the splendour of the Palace, or the beauty of Father Lawrence's Saradomin-blessed church?
As to your concern that a mere mugger might one day harness the power of the runes: well, that is as likely as a Zamorakian establishing an unspeakable altar within our fair city!
The feuding of the gangs that you speak of is actually beneficial to our people. Not only does it keep the criminals from performing truly outrageous crimes (as they are too busy trying to kill each other off), it also keeps them in a ready state to defend our streets should the unthinkable occur. Now, is this state of affairs not a sign of Saradomin's wisdom?
With the blessing of Saradomin,
Advisor to King Roald
Dear Master Chef,
|I, being a member of your guild, have recently noticed something about you. You wear the honourable skillcape of Cooking, but I have never seen you cook so much as a shrimp! Why do you simply stand there, idle, while lesser cooks sweat over ranges? We all aim to be like you, to be able to purchase a skillcape, but you never seem to do any COOKING! That doesn't make sense. Please tell me!|
|Level 43 cook.|
Since I've attained the rank of Master Chef, I no longer need to cook things myself but simply assign one of my grunts to cook it for me. I'm more of an...arbiter - oh, I like the sound of that - ruling my kitchen with a wooden spoon. I no longer have time for the mere trivialities such as actually cooking.
My time these days is absorbed by holding cooking competitions where I invite 'elite' chefs from around RuneScape to come to my spartan kitchen and cook for me. I then taste their food and critique them. If they manage to make something which I find reaches the laudable standard of 'barely edible by me', I'll hire them as a commis chef and train them in my arcane arts.
I still like to dabble in private, just to keep my hand in. If I ever went back to cooking you'd find my smallest hors d'oeuvres a guilty spark of pleasure, my relevés will transport you - in the taste sense rather than the culinaromancy one - to the relaxation of dipping your toes in the balmy seas off Karamja. My main courses will be the apex of the meal and will leave you satisfied for days, no longer needing normal food. Finally, my puddings are the perfect denouement, providing you with cathartic release from the grip of rapturous abandon created by my food.
Dear Mr. Mordaut,
|It is common knowledge among the wizards of today that teleportation spells are impressive timesavers, allowing their users to cross unfathomable distances in moments. However, it has been my observation that such teleports are always to known locations. Many a time has gone by when I have wished to be able to teleport anywhere I please - or, if not anywhere, then at least to any location I could see.|
|Being wise as you are, I hoped you could answer the following questions for me:
|I've been such a good pupil of yours. Will you please think to satisfy my thirst for knowledge?|
Teleportation itself is a strange offshoot of planar theory, which involves using the power stored in rune stones to essentially bore a hole, known as a teleportation matrix, through the abyss and then loop back into our own realm at another point. This means that distance becomes meaningless within the matrix itself and you can move instantly to another place.
Well, that’s the theory. When the early wizards discovered this, the 'government' immediately stepped in on their research and created the Abyssal Services Department to control all future teleportation. They now control exactly what point your teleportation matrix can address, by teleblocking all others - so only a set list of them can ever be successfully formed.
Strangely, creating a localised teleport requires a matrix of vastly higher complexity than one for a long distance. Long distances are like hitting a target with an arrow at ten paces, quite easy really; teleporting locally on the other hand is like trying to not to hit yourself with your own arrow while hitting a target you’re standing on. All rather dangerous, if you ask me.
It has been suggested that certain groups in RuneScape may have operatives inside the Department, for their own ends. This would account for any unauthorised destinations which you may have seen used in your adventuring.
I hope this lesson has been informative; it might even make a good end-of-term test!
Greetings, conspiracy fans, as I am back and I have another FACEWETTING SALVO OF FACTS for you all!
It seems that my last selection was appreciated, not only by you, but by a number of EVIL-DOERS in RuneScape, who sent me theories in the post. These have been vetted by me in my SKILLCAPE OF FACTS.
Conspiracy Theory 1 – From the Magic instructor on Tutorial Island
Good day, Evil Dave - long time, no see.
Three years ago, I employed a scruffy young man to look after my three dairy cows [OF TOTAL DOMINATION - E.D.]: Dolly, Emmylou and Linda. The young man would teach adventurers about milking cows and churning, and I would give him a small wage. I used to call him ‘servant’ or ‘little servant’.
Well, one night I heard a ruckus and the dastardly young man had herded my trio of cows onto a raft of plain logs and teaching manuals, making a course for the mainland. I tried to Wind Strike him, but it did no damage. Now, here comes my theory! The new tutorial has a White Knight named Sir Vant, which is so very similar to ‘servant'! In it, Sir Vant fights a dragon with three heads, which, in the right light, could be an elaborately disguised triad of cattle! I say this man is a heinous fraud and his so-called three-headed dragon is nothing more than three glued-together bovines [OF MASS DESTRUCTION - E.D.].
By the way, if your fans ever need someone to teach them how to cook, fight or run, tell them to come see me.
Conspiracy Theory 2 – From Robin Hood
Archers, being the most fabulous of all the adventurers in RuneScape (and don’t you know it, you conniving melee fighters and so-called “wizards”), have long been plagued by a mysterious [EVIL] plot to deprive us of arrows. You may note, sweet rangers, that every now and then one of your arrows or bolts goes missing instead of falling delicately to the ground like a perfectly white feather of Goodness and Grace.
It is my belief that there is a plot afoot, hatched by those dastardly cowards, rapscallions, knaves, wastrels, cads, bounders, criminals and murderous thugs who call themselves “melee fighters” and “mages”. These rogues are in league with the imps and implings to steal our elegant ammunition so that they can build a Tower of Arrows in the shape of a monstrously huge chinchompa in a cave deep beneath Falador (which is, as you know, the home of the decidedly unpleasant and fish-scented White Knights – none of whom use any ranged weapons, you may note).
When they have completed their hideous construction, this epic rodent will be trundled out and placed in a prominent location to mock us, dear and beautiful archers. Yes: they will mock us and laugh, and then very probably drink tea. The cads!
Conspiracy Theory 3 – From Father Lawrence
Peace be with you, my children, the peace of calm and untroubled sleep. While I am obviously not evil, I am suffering beneath the tyrannical yoke of evil's oppression. Yea, it is true: the dark evilness of Zamorak’s followers stains my humble church each and every day.
You may well have observed the dutiful parishioners who journey each and every day to listen to the good word of Saradomin in my church. These devout and virtuous folk are the very essence of Saradomin’s love, but Zamorak has placed a cursed upon us, and sends agents each day to slip a sleeping potion into the sacred wine that forms the core of my sermons.
Each and every day, I find myself preaching to the slumbering instead of the alert. This cannot be allowed to continue, for Saradomin’s will must be spread, and my parishioners can hardly be expected to spread the word if they sleep through my sermons. Please, uncover the fiends at fault here and bring the Light of Saradomin to shatter their dark ways!
What can I say, CONSPIRACY WARRIORS? These are quite clearly FIVE-STAR CONSPIRACIES that will force us all to sleep with a NIGHT-LIGHT OF UNFULFILLED DREAMS turned on. I hope they have had that effect on you too.
I hope we can talk again soon, dear fans. Sleep tight.
|Postbag from the Hedge|