|Navigation: RuneScape Wiki >> Scribbles & Sketches >> Postbag from the Hedge >> Postbag 44|
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.
Yo Yk'Lagor the Thunderous,
|Yeah, so you are totally the greatest Dungeoneering boss ever! My Dungeoneering skill isn't high enough to encounter you yet, but I've heard all about you from my fellow adventurers. You are the definition of epicness especially when you shout out "My turn!" and pwn those other mages with a single blast of magic. Anyway, I was wondering if you could answer some of my questions:|
|Hope to meet you soon,|
My turn, Krayfishkarl,
You are fat with questions, trespasser of Daemonheim! You remind me of myself: we both have much to say and few to hear us. That is why I am named 'The Thunderous', for the force of my voice and a determination to have my thoughts heard!
Talk to Kal'Ger and he'll say my thoughts are unwelcome in Daemonheim. That is why you find the great Yk'Lagor imprisoned in this place, as Kal'Ger 'tired' of my voice. What my master doesn't know is that these soft, fleshy wizards are not only keeping me, but are syphoning my power for their own use, whatever that may be. Once I shatter my chains and tear the fat limbs from their bodies, I will bring this news with their bodies to my master. Let him quieten me then!
I have answered your questions. I ask you to shout them aloud, so you can feel the full force of their impact:
Gain some levels, little crayfish, and we will see who can shout the loudest. I will bring the floors crashing down upon you.
Dear rewards trader at Daemonheim,
|Hello, good sir! When I first saw you at Daemonheim, I wondered: "Why the heck is that guy trembling like a coward?" So , that is my first question. Why are you so scared?|
|My second question is about your name. When I asked, you said "Ma...'and I interrupted you, but I didn't get to hear it. I think I have been able to guess your name by the fact that you are with Thok and and there is a journal named 'Marmaros and Thok’. So...is your name Marmaros?|
|Well, that's all my questions. Thank you for your time reading this!|
|With best wishes,|
|sir maple 7|
Sir maple 7,
I would love to tell you why I became so ‘cowardly’. Indeed, there was a time when I’d tell you anything you wanted – true or not – for a Fremennik ale or a foot massage (depending on your looks). But I know what adventurers are like; when you tell them grim stories of warriors facing overwhelming odds, they want to see it for themselves. I can’t be the one who encourages you to go down there, sir maple: I wouldn’t wish it on anyone but my worst enemy.
Let me just say that I can barely repair a gravite two-hander without having a waking nightmare of warriors with eyes for arms. There are occultish and warped things down there, and something…something big…that eats at any hopes or dreams you may be clutching on to. I lost virtually everything down there, save for a torn bag of experience and dark memories.
As for my name, it’s Marmaros, and I named the Daemonheim ore after myself. Others have adopted the names we gave to resources down in Daemonheim: metals, fish and materials, mostly. Thok named the bouldabass after chipping a tooth on its stiff scales, but he’ll tell you that the tooth broke when he bit into a rammernaut.
Now, please, I beg you, stay well away from the lower floors of the Demon Halls. You would thank me if you knew.
Rewards trader of Daemonheim
To Thok, the Glorious Master of Dungeoneering,
|I admire your amazingness and the grim stance you hold on the way to Daeomonheim (you look really tough with your arms crossed and your body pulsating with power). I have noticed, though, that at the rewards shop the prices for the items there are EXTREMELY high! Don't get me wrong, I'm sure they're still quite useful and powerful - not as much as you of course - but how am I and my fellow RuneScapers supposed to horde that tremendous number of tokens? I request that the prices be lowered a bit, if it's not too much trouble for you, all-powerful Thok.|
|Also, the rewards trader has a little secret I thought you might need to know. He has an assistant inside the dungeons who is smuggling tools and items from the dungeons (no offence to "The Smuggler" who sells and buys items in the dungeons). That goes against the rules of Dungeoneering itself! I implore you to stop him, as well as his assistant, before the dangerous power of these items obliterates the entire complex and the people inside it! This is a very dangerous issue, and must be dealt with as such!|
|Your Loyal Follower and Servant,|
Thok like way you start letter: ‘Glorious Master of Dungeoneering’. When Thok rich, he want servant to wake him up with compliments like “Thok beard like lion mane” and “Thok laugh at fleeing backsides of his enemies”. That make Thok grin like a gluttonous beast with a full belly.
Rest of letter not so great. It makes Thok cross arms and shake head side to side. Reward items not expensive! Items are full of bargains, and you will buy many from Marm, the reward trader! You are lucky: in Thok’s day, Thok had to wrestle rock crabs in nothing but mud nappy. Adventurers have life so easy nowadays. It disgust Thok to think of lazy adventurers who buy bonecrusher to save bending over occasionally. Thok not surprised if adventurers ask for shoelacecrusher from Thok.
Finally, Zegatrox, you make big and ugly accusation about brother Marm and friend Smuggler. You must think carefully about who you tell, before something bad may happen to you. Thok would not want you to wake with bovimastyx head in bed; not that Thok would be able to get bovimastyx head out of Daemonheim – it a hypocritical situation. That might not be right word, but Thok look you square in the eye and dare you to argue. Remember: Thok bit a rammernaut.
Now, get down to the bottom of Daemonheim! Thok not see you as equal until you do.
Thok the Amazingness
|I have a question about two Mahjarrat friends of yours: Sliske and Bilrach. My friends tell me that Sliske is the one who killed the Barrows Brothers and that he has power over shadows. Are these facts true? Not much is known about him, so please tell me more about him.|
|Then there is Bilrach, Many of my friends want to know more about Bilrach, like: who is he? Is he a powerful Mahjarrat, or a normal one? Where is he now? Did he find the ‘Strange Power’? Not much is known about him too - please tell me more about him.|
|Wishing you the best. Praise be Zaros! And Praise be Guthix!|
|p.s.I praised two gods because I could not think which is one was greater...|
You bandy about the term ‘friend’ too readily. True, Sliske is an ally and remains loyal to Lord Zaros, but he distances himself from anyone and anything he cannot control. Still, I’d rather him as my ally than my enemy, for his abilities are…useful. Not many of our kind are able to reach into the Shadow Realm, but of those who can, Sliske’s mastery is unmatched. I have my ways of reaching him and his counsel, though. As for his ‘snake-like tongue’, too many would assume this to be just his manner of speaking – he is far from being a snake. Rather, his words carry weight in the mind, and have a way of bending the weak to his will.
Sliske himself did not kill his Barrows toys, but it was the power he granted them that sealed their fate. Power is fleeting, and Sliske always gets what he wants out of deals; I’d advise, should you ever meet him, not to make deals with him.
Bilrach is barely an enemy to me, such a subservient waste of Mahjarrat that he is. He was the lapdog of Zamorak, meekly barking when Zamorak barked, and raging when Zamorak raged. Truly, he should have been sacrificed millennia ago. As for this ‘strange power’ of which you speak, the only thing strange about it to me was that it happened, but it did give me a chuckle at the time. I see no connection between it and Bilrach; if he is the one responsible then he has vastly grown in power since our last meeting, many thousands of years past.
Dear Plane-Freezer Lakhrahnaz the Stalker,
|The dungeons of Daemonheim are pretty cool, especially where you are. I know we may have had an odd fight now and then - sometimes you win, sometimes I do - but PLEASE tell me how to stay still on the ice! It would make our fights a lot fairer, and I would not get as frustrated, because at the moment your area is the most annoying. And, as we both are warriors, I ask you to make our battles fairer, then we will see who is truly the strongest.|
|Also, it must be a bore for an intelligent being such as yourself to be positioned day after day waiting in isolation for the next intruder to enter, what do you do to pass the time?|
|And lastly, what tips could you give me for fighting Khighorak and Ilhakhizan?|
|A fanatic dungeoneer,|
[Dear Sevga. I wandered into the frozen floors of Daemonheim to try to find the Lakhrahnaz mentioned in your letter, but encountered a rather annoying and luminescent icefiend instead. After hopping round in circles for what seemed a lifetime, he eventually did himself an icicle-based mischief and dropped a journal. Out of curiousity, I gave the journal a read, and found that it mentioned you! It seemed impossible, but is anything truly impossible in RuneScape? – PP]
Fourth Age, year 01-59:
Judge , locks and fowl share a theme with our new naut. Behold, my pet: a bestseller shower . One should note, Sevga , if they wish to find out how RT maddened.
Fourth Age, year 1:19:
Mix in a Job. “Hey, monkey features! You can keep man, but get those simians out of my sandpit!” It may not be wise to defy red , but it’s possible with scattered chip mice and a worn mule cart.
Fourth Age, year 071009:
JV loves mambo. Same diet, wash an go, koh jum box !: they have a friend in RuneScape. HHF uea nrr tbm eli ron rg e.
Fourth Age, year 2212N1145E:
Origins lie in ruined Kethsi, but now they return from the stone prison to lay waste . The strong remembers, the weak falls.
Mel-ona the Scale
|Many times have we fought in the dungeons of Daemonheim, and many times have you been near to defeating me and my comrades. It saddens me that so many books have been laid to waste in our battles, and I wish to express my grief for the noble literature.|
|Due to my low skill in combat, it has many-a-time been my job to keep your books off my fellow adventurers, and with each book that tastes my zephyrium blade, a small part of my lore-loving heart dies. I do not know which force or faction put us on opposing sides of battle, but let that force be cursed.|
|So, I say to you, in this letter: Sorry. Accept this humble poem as my amends:|
|I swing my blade, I hit a book.
I see the sorrow in the eyes of its owner.
I feel I am turning into a book-hating crook,
And that fills me with grief, oh let our fight be brief!
|I have read in your journal, that you are not happy,
With your current command, with your current goal.
But what it is, I have no clue.
And for the broken books to mend, I send you some glue.
|Send my greeting to the dear Astea as well, and tell her I'm sorry I killed all her spiders. May the books live on!|
I begrudgingly acknowledge your respect for the written word, enemies though we are. Books hold more import than the youth of today credit them with, so engrossed in their games and 'balloon drop' parties. Bah! And I'm not talking about children's books like The Thingummywhat, Doom from a Broom, and The Smartest Hill Giant in Lumbridge. No, I talk of poetry books, for rhymes are a major source of my magic power.
That said, children's books do have their place, for those are the books I animate to attack those who disrupt the quiet of my library - I find it most amusing to know that big, brave adventurers are being beaten up by books filled with bears who have lost their bouncy balls.
I also appreciate your poetry, for I'm quite the lyrical master myself. Perhaps the next time we meet, we could exchange prose in a word battle, rather than resort to fisticuffs. Prepare yourself for my onslaught - Runewright's coming at you...
Words are the source of my magical ways,
I deal in high hits while my foes just hit zeroes.
I guard in my library - "For Zamorak's praise!",
And use my book-learning to dispatch lame heroes.
Black as my heart is, I met one much colder,
But only 'cos ice was the source of her power.
To get her attention I wish I were bolder,
But words in a poem might woo and then wow her...
I riddled and rhymed of my love for Astea,
In a ballad that longed for her lacking of heat.
It asked if, you know, we could meet for a beer,
And then sent it her way 'twixt the teeth of a Pete.
Alas, Pete instead gave it to Khighorahk,
I'd got the address wrong. Oh, what a corker!,
The eye-covered beast sent a love letter back,
And now all I've got's my own personal stalker.
Now shush, you – can’t you tell it’s a library?
You know, there are some responsibilities that I enjoy, and some that I don’t. I don’t, for example, like my responsibilities to the Piscatoris Fishing Colony, who seem to require me for almost-weekly reunions after we killed that sea troll queen. I think they get lonely all the way up there! I do, however, love my responsibility to the Postbag from the Hedge, and I have missed it heartily!
This month, I have been chatting to the Dungeoneering Tutor (his name is Drangund by the way; apparently you never asked) and he gave me a selection of hints and tips for those who are just beginning their Dungeoneering adventure, or who have been deep in Daemonheim from the start.
|Postbag from the Hedge|