It was added on 29 May 2008.
This month's Postbag was quite a wide ranging one, with trips to Taverley, Varrock and even Phasmatys. Unfortunately, I don't get Tele-Miles any more after the mages cancelled my card when I accrued enough points to buy Entrana outright, so I have nothing to show for it other than more responses to your letters. Anyway, on with the Postbag...
Sorry to call you by such a vulgar title, but I feel it fits my question perfectly. You have been wandering around Varrock for about 5 years, yes? How much money have you received total from strangers like myself giving away charity? By now, I'd expect you to be a millionaire!
Please reply back,
P.S. Instead of giving away only 1 coin at a time, I'd like a way to give you about 1,000 coins. It was a very long time ago, but you helped me greatly to get back the Shield of Arrav, and I think you deserve it!
P.P.S. Spend that 1gp on a bronze pickaxe, then use it to mine clay or tin for enough profit to eventually stop begging!
Now that you mention it, yeah I've been 'ere for quite a while. Thankfully, many an adventurer 'as taken pity on old Charlie and given me a coin or two over the years. I'd likely say that it's in the region of maybe...a couple of billion these days, give or take a Christmas Cracker or two. I've bought up a lot of property around RuneScape and have quite an extensive portfolio these days, but I still keep the day job; never forget your roots, that's what I say.
When I cut the trees down why do you attack me? It makes me feel like I am not wanted. Do you like anyone, for my friends have told me that you have attacked them as well? I use trees as a means of making money. Do you want me to be poor? Do you hate to watch trees being cut down? Also do you ever take a break, sit back and just chill? If so, me and you should totally hang.
I am surprised that you feel it is necessary to ask me why I become so enraged when my precious friends are destroyed by uncaring, clumsy humans. My role is to protect the trees of RuneScape from axe-wielding nuisances, and although I cannot be everywhere at once, I feel that I do an excellent job. The trees that I patrol are vital to the natural balance of life throughout the lands; many creatures rely on them for food and shelter. If all of the trees in RuneScape were gone, what would become of the squirrels? Did you or any of your timber-hungry friends ever stop to think about the plight of the squirrels when you were mercilessly chopping down beautiful tree after beautiful tree? I think not. No-one ever thinks of the squirrels, or the badgers.
It certainly does make me happy to see pesky woodcutters running away in terror when I leap out to confront them, and if my efforts result in your financial poverty, so be it. You should be grateful for the natural riches that I work so hard to preserve. I wish that I did have the time to 'just chill', but my tree-protection crusade will not be over until every tree (and squirrel) in RuneScape is safe. Even if I did have any spare time, I would definitely not spend it with environmental menaces.
Yours in leafy anger,
The Tree Nymph
One day, somewhere between freezing a spinner into a block of ice and susequently getting punched in the face by a brawler who actually truned out to be good friends with that spinner (they had tea every Thursday) I thought, how did this whole situation start? I wanted a way to tell your story, and, being unable to simply say anything (talking is boring), or sing it (the majority of RuneScape inhabitants can't actually hear type (go figure)), I ended up writing a poem. I'd love to hear what you think about it, and to know if it's historically relevant, or if I managed to waste 2 minutes a defiler could be shooting you in the face.
Pest Control (And So It Goes)
And so it goes…
Around all corners enemies lurk,
Marching with a dreadful smirk.
Ready to tear through wood and bone,
Fighting onward for their new home,
To nest in lands of peoples weak,
Who can't fight back with powers meek.
They'll stop at nothing to gain new lands,
They cannot be stopped by common hands.
But knights of balance then reached forth,
Battle mages from the far north.
What was their name? Void knights they say.
Peace was their intent, it was their way.
They fought with courage and skill unknown,
To drive the vile from their new homes,
But their powers alone just weren't enough.
The enemies were just too tough.
But adventurers from around the world,
Heard their cries and into battle hurled
Their strongest aid, their incredible might.
They helped out in the mages' plight,
But the enemies planned to stay.
They battle on to this day.
And on it goes…
The warrior charges onward brave,
Thinking of people he must save.
He finds himself in dire need,
But if he calls out, will any heed.
But before their enemies work is done,
The battle is easily won.
Icy death rains from a mages eye,
Deadly power from the sky.
The enemies fall into deaths embrace,
Fallen to both ice and mace.
The two charge onward towards a light,
They plan to be victorious tonight.
The mage begins her difficult job,
To take out the bulk of the mob.
The warrior is more subtle indeed.
It is the portal that the demons need.
He strikes out against it, hard and fast.
The battle seems over, at long last,
But the portal remains, standing strong.
Spinners are among the throng.
The mage cannot deal with the mass,
The warrior must think fast.
Then an arrow streaks through the sky,
To catch a brawler through the eye..
The path is clear, the mage can strike.
The archer had climbed, a mighty hike,
To reach a place to kill at will,
But the portal remains standing still.
The archer and mage kill one by one,
Until the warriors work is finally done.
And so it went…
One is down, four remain,
Till the end of this awful game.
But the three are finished, and can't do more.
They fall under the might of three score.
The void knight watches as the mage falls first,
A victim of a brute's bloodthirst.
The warriors falls next, clearly outmatched,
And the archer runs, but the enemies catch.
The fight is done, three more are down
But the knight has been busy up till now.
The spell is ready, the time is here,
The vile feel it coming. They feel the fear.
The portals close; they are lost,
In a world that hates them, and cannot trust.
More people come to wipe them out.
None survive, not even a scout.
The fight is over, the day is won.
Three more have died to get it done.
A light hits the warrior, a single ray.
Because of him, they lived another day.
"Knight" begins a newer fighter…
"We've done well here. Am I right or…"
"It doesn't matter" says the knight.
He looks off into the night.
"By and by do the days roll.
We are all simply Pest Control."
As so it goes on…
In the small chance that you stayed awake through all that, I'd greatly appreciate a responce.
Sincerly (as I can possibly be),
To the courageous Poke97531,
Your poem is very moving and it has made me come over all bard-like. Your bold recreation of the battle that I must fight each day has inspired me to pen my own lyrical offering.
What can one say to such a story, Of Void Knights fighting to retain their glory? Your understanding, it is clear, Of all the things that I hold dear.
No sight makes me more irate, Than that of a ravager breaching the gate. More brave souls must bring their powers, To ensure that victory will soon be ours.
Tell your neighbours, tell your friend, They are the ones on which we depend. To help us in our epic fight, They must give their aid to save the knight.
I hope that you like my attempt to match your poetic masterpiece.
A Void Knight
I have been grinding bones and worshiping your Ectofuntus with respect for your community. Even though I should have cast you into the far flung reaches of the underworld, I still allow you to exist as an ever present reminder to oppressive control.
Your disciples are still shuffling out ecto-tokens presumably on your cheapest imitation parchment, but I have yet to find out if they have any tradable value, other then a few jars of yeast that you probably grow between your toes.
Would you like to recycle the tons of tokens that I have, or should I just use them to wallpaper the sewers of my dungeon?
Your ever vigilant caseworker,
WooooOOOOOoooo-o-o-o-oh, fine, I'll speak properly. I'm still not happy about what you did to me - not having control over one's own actions is most disconcerting. I suppose, at least, that you didn't make me act like a chicken. You DIDN'T make me act like a chicken, did you? Anyway, never mind, I'll answer your questions. (It's not like I have a choice, is it?)
There is no need to worry about ectotokens being a strain on RuneScape's resources - they are not made of actual parchment, but the ghost of parchment (please, don't ask me how that works). Indeed, they are not even natural resources, they're UNnatural resources. Also, ectoplasm is 100% biodegradable (it even makes for a handy compost). You'll also be pleased to know that us ghosts are more than just carbon neutral, we're carbon free!
The citizens of Port Phasmatys have been considering offering more wares in return for ectotokens for some time now. They may not need recycling, but there's no reason not to reward those corporeals that help us. Initially we were considering ghost pets - ex parrots, for instance - but there was an issue with a vet that I don't want to go into. The thing is, we just don't know what else you corporeals would want from us ghost-folk - some ghost-wear, perhaps?
As Chairman of CARE (Collected Appreciators of RuneScape's Environment,) I thought it only right to inform you of a possible solution to global warming within RuneScape! Upon my travels I have encountered a realm known as the Plane of Mud. An inventor I know, who goes by the name Oldak, has created ingenius teleportation devices, which he calls 'Moving-Over-Distance-Spheres', that can teleport you directly there once shattered, and I believe these could be modified to prevent further pollution! Every dwarven chimney could be outfitted with a very large sphere, and, once filled with pollution, shattered to take the pollution to the Plane of Mud. By all accounts, the god Bandos devastated the Plane of Mud, leaving it a wasteland with putrid green seas and scorched earth so risks of polluting another realm with our pollution is not an issue. And, while I've heard the dwarven heads of state refuse to acknowledge the problem, I believe that mining the rune essence needed for the law runes would sway them to the cause. As would, perhaps, tweaking spheres to move recently mined ore, smelted bars or even dwarves from place to place in an instant. Take this into consideration, and place it on the table at the next CARE meeting.
P.S. I think herblore and Cave Goblin technology could create wonderful things! Try it!
Dear Liam Leigh,
We at CARE had some time to discuss your letter last week, and it certainly raised some heated opinions. Nurmof felt that you proposed promising ideas for dwarf growth, while Brother Jered argued that we were simply dumping a problem into another's back garden. This woke up Fred the Farmer, having fallen asleep, who promptly called for a motion to stop dumping things in back gardens.
After an hour or so of voting, arguing, a tossed muffin, voting whether the Sandwich Lady should remain on the committee after tossing a muffin, then forcibly removing her, we got to the crux of your argument: should Moving-Over-Distance-Spheres be used to teleport pollution to the Plain of Mud?
The answer was an unanimous no. We cannot simply teleport away our pollution; instead, we need a preventative measure to stop producing it in the first place. Indeed, there is a child who keeps kicking his ball into my garden. I'm sure his mother wouldn't like me teleporting that particular problem to the Plain of Mud!
Anyway, CARE would enthusiastically welcome your ideas for preventing pollution. If they are good, we are sure to vote positively (after an argument or two).
Chairman of CARE
Wise Old Jokes[edit | edit source]
This month I thought that I'd bring you some of the more amusing anecdotes that I've recently been hearing on my travels around RuneScape. I'll of course be adding them to my research in this area; when used in the correct way, a good joke is more powerful than the sharpest sword or arcane spell.
- WOM -
What happens if you start a fight with a seashell in the Wilderness?
One day Necrovarus wanted to check that the top of the Ectofuntus Temple was flat, but he didn't have a high-enough spirit level.
What's pink, ghostly and degrades as it carries mud around your garden?
A player was training his cat to catch rats, and found a basement full of them. As the pile of dead rats grew, he noticed that they were all wearing tiny army uniforms. A little while later, they began wearing uniforms with sergeants' insignia on them.
The player ventured further into the cellar. Soon, a lieutenant rats and a couple of captain rats lay on top of the pile.
The rat command group was just on the other side of the room, but the cat suddenly flattened itself to the ground in fear.
"What's wrong?" the player asked him. "You had no trouble with the other army rats. Go take out their leader!" "Are you mad?" the cat said. "I can't fight a Major-rat!"
Where can you swap elderly relatives?
On the Gran Exchange!
A player is walking through Seer's Village, minding his own business.
"Oi!" comes a voice from a nearby forest.
The player stops in his tracks and looks over to the forest.
"Over here!" says the voice again.
The player looks down on the forest floor and is surprised to see a can of reconstituted ham.
"Erm, hello? Can I help you?" says the player.
The can of reconstituted ham gives him a sly wink. "You sure can. I bet I can get to 99 Woodcutting before you."
The player looks at the can of reconstituted ham, notes that it has no arms, no legs and no axe. He then checks the can's user name on the Woodcutting Hiscores list and it hasn't even made it on there. "Okay, you're on!", the player says, and he starts to chop at the trees.
The can of reconstituted ham chuckles and hops out of the forest, to the surprise of the player. "Where are you going?" the player says.
The can keeps chuckling and hops into a nearby field of sheep. It then finds one, jumps on top and makes a strange clicking sound repeatedly. After a short while, fireworks appear above his head and it has reached level 99.
"What on earth?" says the player, running out of the forest and over to the field of sheep. The can of reconstituted meat keeps chuckling. "You cheat!" says the player. "You're just spam clicking on ewes!"
What's a mahjarrat's favourite nut?
How many Slayer Masters does it take to change a lightbulb?
Two. One to give you the rubbish assignment and another to change it.
|Characters mentioned in the letters|