Gnome is one of the echoes of Guthix that can be displayed atop an echo plinth at the Memorial to Guthix. Players can interact with the echo to read about Guthix's memory.
Guthix: Argento was the first of them, and it was the gnomes who found a proper home for him. Like all of his kind, he was planted when the Anima Mundi was so very strong. He was there at the start; the time of the first colonisation. And while all else changed, he remained. When the gnomes deserted the surface, wandering and carving their way deep beneath the surface of this world, he remained. The gnomes left their camps behind them, to be reclaimed by flora and fauna alike. The gods struck blow after blow against each other, rending, churning and crushing the very rocks and soil of our homes. They almost destroyed our world, but he remained. When I stopped the wars, when I was woken from my slumber and would no longer tolerate their petty rivalries, and forced the gods to cease their arguing and depart from my world, he remained. He was my friend. I had spent hours at a time sitting, talking to him. He understood more about the Anima Mundi than almost anyone else, tapped into it as he was. He felt every ebb and flow, every rise and fall, like a pulse. So much time spent in conversation that I confided much in him. I shared my past as I could not with so many others. When the wars were done, I went again to see him, surprised to know he still survived - but the horrors he had lived through, the suffering he had witnessed. Such pain. Such anguish. He was not who he had been; a shadow of himself. I could not let that be. We spoke a final time, and I reminded him of the friendship we had shared, and what it had meant to me. I whispered soothing words: calming conversation that restored at least his peace of mind. He smiled. Then I opened the channel to him, and granted him a greater power that swelled his life energy. He would live long after I said goodbye to him, so that he might watch over the gnomes who had given him his home. As the power flowed through his spirit, the spark drew his colour from him, leaving him unique among his kind. But that was not all it took from him. My gift also removed many of his memories, not least all of the pain and trauma the God Wars laid upon him. It also purged our time together from his mind, robbing us of the basis of our friendship; so much of our shared history. For Argento's sake, there was a price to pay, and this was it. I lost my friend, but took his suffering from him.