Transcript:You shall not pass!
It was added on 27 March 2008.
Welcome to this month's Postbag from the Hedge. For this edition, I've braved the depths of the volcano on Karamja to speak to the TzHaar, managed to find an off-shift bank manager and popped over to see my cousin, Party Pete, for a quick cup of par-tea and booty-shake cake...oh, and to deliver your letters, of course.
Please excuse me, but don't you have a life? I have surveyed you all of my life coming in and out of the bank, but for the life of me, I can't understand *WHY* you don't have a more enjoyable life. You don't see bankers anywhere else, or trying to take over the world like the penguin situation. Please (Sardomin, Zamorak and Guthix), have a banker day where the mods go in in your place and you run around in cool outfits raising hell!
Dear Account Holder #0114bc6844bd00664118376e,
Thank you for your concerns about the health of our staff members. Although you might not notice the difference in the faces, we have quite an extensive shift pattern here at the Bank of RuneScape and it affords individual members of staff a great deal of downtime. We've managed to get the shift changes down to around a microsecond teleport, so you'll never see a vacant kiosk, as our commitment is entirely to the customers of our bank. I mean, we wouldn't want some leprechauns coming along and challenging our monopoly by starting up a budget garden implement warehouse!
In our leisure time, I personally know bank assistants who love fishing, gnome gliding, deep-sea diving and party-planning. Constantly the centre of the party, I've heard tales that even Party Pete is jealous of our groove.
In fact, I've been invited to three private parties this evening, so I must go and slip into something more appropriate. I think the first one is a kalphite-themed party...or was it a penguin suit party?...hmm...no matter, I've got an idea that will cover both.
Let's get this party started!
Robert Stephen Milborne
East Falador Branch Manager
Bank of RuneScape
I am fascinated by your creatures and I constantly want to know more. I have tried many things in order to find out how to get further into your city, but it says you can't trust me or something like that. I even beat the Fight Caves in order to find a way in. Yet still nothing; I would love to learn what is back there and more about your race.
Your biggest fan,
TzHaar only for TzHaar. We would never open city gates to those we don't trust and we only trust TzHaar. Until recently, we have thought only those born in heat of lava are TzHaar - humans nothing more than amusement - our librarian, TzHaar-Mej-Lor, tells me we once considered you pets.
That was over two-hundred years ago now, when I was fresh from my egg. As TzHaar have such long lives and new generations so far apart, new thoughts and ideas are slow to change our society. A blink ago, we would not have considered it possible for JalYt to even survive our Play Caves - sorry, Fight Caves - let alone defeat mighty TzTok-Jad. I also see change with young TzHaar, even strange notions of going against caste, like TzHaar-Hur-Brekt.
I of all TzHaar have had most contact with JalYt. I believe, one day, maybe soon, JalYt could be honoured as TzHaar. Until then, TzTok-Jad awaits...
I must say, I have quite a few questions to ask you. Who are you guys? Do you work for someone? Why do you attack innocent newbies? And why do always wear capes? It seems to me as if you are all nothing but evil. In fact, I often guard areas where you stand so that newbies won't get sent back to Lumbridge!
To explain further on my first two questions, I simply want to know why you patrol certain intersections waiting for an unsuspecting person of say, level 4. Is someone paying you? Do you do it for fun? Is there some organization of dastardly highwaymen plotting all of this? Or is this entire matter top secret and I'm just meddling into someone else's business?
With all due respect,
That ain't a letter you sent me – it's a bloomin' confession! If I were to reply to it, I'd be chucked in the clink for years!
Ah darn it; I don't get too much in the way of correspondence. We'll come to a deal - I'll use a special code, an' let's see if you can puzzle it.
My name is not Dirk Turnip and I'm not a highwayman. I would never wear the cape that signifies my highwayman union. I certainly wouldn't think of stickin' to a set of rules called the 'highway code'. You still with me?
I 'ave never worked for a geezer called Robin Hood. I never left 'is troop 'cos of itchy tights and I certainly don't have a stash o' coins from easy pickin' noobs. After all, I don't 'ave a family of four and a young'un who wants to save up for some gloves o' silence.
You ain't seen me, right?
NOT Dirk Turnip, NOT a dandy highwayman
When my clan (1337 Sqwad) and I were off hunting dagannoths, you and your party friends broke into our clan base in north-eastern Falador and ransacked the place destroying hundreds of years of artifacts and history and then turning it into one your debased forms of amusements.
When I heard this, the clan then stormed the place with extreme haste but when we got past your dancing knights (with numerous casualties) we found out you did not have an attack option.
After this crushing defeat we retreated to heal our wounds. So, when brutal force failed diplomacy would suffice, and I would say one final thing: see you in court (Seers' Village Court - your old party room).
Unggoy20, Teserut, Adventure ex, zhaozhi
Dudes, apologies for moving in on your clan's digs. The party just wasn't working in Seers' Village any more. That Arthur dude filed for our eviction, claiming that his knights kept leaving Camelot to join the Dancing Knights. What can I say? Those metal homeys love the party! Lancelot was even thinking about joining us. Man, that dude can break-dance.
So, the show hit the road. Word was that free-players were hungry for the party, so the HMS Party set a course for Falador. The estate agent told us that the space was of 'little cultural relevance' so we paid up and settled in.
As for attacking the party – dude! For one, you're not in Bounty Hunter, man. I'd last five seconds in there. For two, the party is like a Protection from Melee, Protection from Magic, Protection from Ranged and Protection from Ill Feelings all wrapped up in one. No-one can penetrate the party.
Let the party into your life, dude. It's like a warm, funky blanket.
You are the strongest demon I have ever met. I was supprised when I defeated you for the first time - you seemed happy! Do NOT show this letter to other demons, because they are horrible fighters. I've noticed throughout my days that you have been in battle with experienced warriors, and hated it. When I first battled you, you seemed happy to battle someone other than those guys, you even seemed happier to lose against me! One time, you said in english "Good Luck" to me. Now, to the point, I have a few questions :
- What is your name?
- How old are you?
- Why do you look at my Saradominist symbol so happily?
- Do you have a companion?
Thanks for reading this letter, and if any demons bother you, describe them to me and I'll "talk" with them, or you just beat them to dust... Also, those horns go well with your skin tone!
Moribund salutations, Hailfire 13,
I have no recollection of our supposed encounters, as beings made of flesh are mere shadows in this world; nor do I take joy in anything, demons are incapable of joy, only of despising some things less than others. You, I suppose, must have enraged me less than other things on this world: that female mortal with the pastries, for example. I hate pastries.
I have a name, but it cannot be pronounced using your fleshy mortal tongues, just as my age would have no meaning to you, for I am ageless. A demon's true name is a powerful thing; I can only grant you the boon of knowing my kin name, which is powerless: S'malyo Gsot't. In times past your people called me Ravager and Fleshbane, but it has been long since my Lord sent me to true battle.
Should you return, bring your symbol of the God of Weakness. I fear nothing. I hate it less, in fact, than I hate scratching out these words on tanned goblinskin.
With rage and destruction,
p.s. I hate the other demons, too. One of them specialises in making irritating noises and writing terrible demonic puns on walls.
I would like combine two previous letters; one to a cow and one delivered to you for a Varrock dog. Seeing as it was recently discovered that cows have a secret agency, I would like to question: "Do you dog/wolf beings have a secret agency as well?" If you do not, I suggest you start one. Are you aware of the desparate plee for help from the stray dogs in Varrock? Are you aware that many wolves are being slain on White Wolf Mountian? Maybe you could form DOG (Dogs Of Gielinor). I only want dogs to be well fed and happy.
Your affectionate dog-lover,
Thanks you for showin' me your genuine concern for our canine mates.
Oi'm surprised it's taken this long fer people to realise that animals have formed their own unions. Oi 'appen to know that the ol' rustbuckets (sorry, stray dargs to you) in Varrock are part of C.A.N.I.N.E (Cats Are Not Ignored Nearly Enough), and those white furry wolves of that big ol' snowy mountain have formed G.R.O.W.L (Get RuneScapians Off Wolves' Land).
In fac', oi've heard of a few more, if you're interested? In my later years oi've been a bit of a beachcomber y'see, 'cos nobody wants an ol' seadog like me on their crew, so oi've made a few unusual friends along my travels as a landlubber. Ere's a couple more that oi've 'eard on me travels…
R.O.F.L. - Revivalists of Fremmenik Laws
L.O.L. - Ladies of Lumbridge
L.M.A.O. - Lumbridge Maids and Organists
A.F.K. - Ali for King
P.W.N.E.D. - Penguins Will Never Ever Dominate
Temple Knights' Dossier: WOM[edit | edit source]
Well, this month I had difficulty getting hold of the Wise Old Man; it seems he had been busy outside of his house a lot of the time. I found this on his desk: well, okay, inside a padlocked box, within a safe, in a secret compartment behind his desk. Anyway, it looks like the WOM has been visiting the Temple Knights' hideout and has been reading their papers. Enjoy!
Subject: 'Wise Old Man'
Status: Under surveillance - Level: ULTRAVIOLET ARCHANGEL
Estimated Threat Level:EXTREME
Place of Birth: Varrock Aliases:WOM
Known Affiliates:The 'Wise Old Man' (hereafter WOM) has no significant affiliates at this time. Sources indicate that WOM shuns contact with most people, except when it is in his interests (usually in the financial sense).
Personality: WOM is commonly assumed to be a quiet, reticent old gentleman, enjoying his retirement. This, however, is not an opinion shared by all: he is often found to be rude, headstrong and oblique, which makes him an ideal candidate for recruitment. Indeed, Agents Cashien, O'Niall and *CLASSIFIED* have each recommended him for a senior position on a number of occasions. His great experience and excellent beard are all commendable features in any agent, but he is simply too much in love with his own myth. No agent could possibly allow their biography to be entitled "Dionysius: A Legend in His Own Lifetime" and expect to be taken seriously at the Annual Gala Dinner, Auction, *CLASSIFIED* and Fondue.
Distinct Talents:WOM is known to be a powerful battle-mage, with an unrivalled knowledge of offensive spells and a talent for alchemy. He is the author of "Magicks Most Destructive", which is widely regarded as the finest work on Words of Mass Destruction ever to have existed, although few have actually read any of it. The edition in the Temple Archives is incomplete and frequently features odd fragments such as '...place the crucible and its contents within the [text illegible] walking around the sphere three times, repeating the Rubric of Incandescence until such warmth comes to the form that, with the correct care and [text illegible], might come to the body...' Quite what WOM is capable of, we do not know.
History:Originally from Varrock, the WOM has travelled extensively at various addresses, including Entrana and No Fixed Abode. Currently, he is fixed in Draynor Village where he occupies a small home, clearly a 'humble' cover for his activities. It is believed that he has spent some time on Entrana as either a student or a pilgrim - which is unsurprising as he is known to be a devout Saradominist. In his youth, he was rumoured to have painted "Saradomin pwns" on the wall of the Zamorakian temple in Varrock (source: Last Will and Testament, Fr Packett, Priest of Saradomin, Varrock).
He claims to have saved countless villages from unspeakable terrors and slain innumerable evil monsters. From the scant details in his biography, it is believed that he did this in a mountainous region north of Kandarin. He has spent a number of years with dwarven miners near Keldagrim, slaying scores of trolls in the process (source: intercepted dispatch 1702H).
According to some sources, he has travelled in the desert north of Menaphos, living with the Bedabin tribe. His activities at this time are unknown, though it may have involved research into various forms of magic.
More recently, he seems to have undergone a change, possibly disillusionment with his situation and advancing years, which has made him decide that it's time to take what he is due. Recent footage (see Comm Orb backup #53634) from the Draynor Village bank confirms that he was solely responsible for the raid, but, as yet, a true motive behind the crime remains elusive. Recommended Action: Placed on surveillance ULTRAVIOLET ARCHANGEL until true motive can be discerned.
Addendum: It has been noted that the WOM has been expending considerable time and effort gathering information on the Wizard's Tower. Interview of Subject Schism by Agent Whrenity has produced interesting results; seemingly, the WOM has been conscripting adventurers to assist him and they are seen coming and going from his house at all times of the day. Recommended Action: Continue surveillance and attempt to find more 'interviewees' for information.
|Characters mentioned in the letters|