Letters #29 - Guthix Tends the Mounds

Guthix Tends the Mounds

The god of balance speaks of growing things and things that should have stayed buried. In this issue, six brothers rise from their mounds in Morytania, the farmers learn patience, and a serpent under the swamp writes in.

Greetings, mortals. The summer is green, and mine lands grow as they should. Many of thy letters ask why things grow slowly, and a few ask why dead things do not stay dead. Both questions have one answer: everything returns in its season.

Great Guthix, I keep the patches south of Falador. Since the farmers came, they plant a seed, then stand beside the patch and stare at it for half an hour. Then they ask me why their potatoes have not grown. What should I tell them?

Elstan, gardener of the patches south of Falador

Tell them that a potato hath no wish to be watched. Mine land grows at its own pace, and no stare hath ever hurried it.

Tell them also to go and do something useful, and come back later. The wise farmer plants, walks away, and returns to find the crop ready. The foolish farmer stands and complains. Both get the same potatoes, but only one hath had a pleasant afternoon.

Lord Guthix, the travellers have found six mounds east of the swamp, and they dig into them with spades. When they open a tomb, a brother of the old wars climbs out and fights them. The travellers call them the Barrows brothers. My temple guards the river, and the dead are not supposed to cross it. Should I worry?

Drezel, priest of the temple of Paterdomus

Thou mayst rest easy. The brothers do not cross the Salve. They rise only when their sarcophagi are searched, and they fall again when beaten. Then they wait to be woken once more.

They were great warriors once, before the dark arts kept them from their rest. I like this not, for death is a state the balance requires. Yet it is the travellers who keep digging them up. A brother who is left alone sleeps soundly.

To the god of balance. Every day a crowd of travellers opens my tomb, takes my helm, and leaves. Every day I climb out to fight them. I have not had a full night's sleep since the old wars. Make them stop, or make me tired.

Dharok the Wretched, of the Barrows

Thou art not the first to complain to me of poor sleep, Dharok, nor the last. I can make no traveller stop, for they follow their own paths. I can only tell thee that a warrior who fights harder the closer he comes to death is a warrior they will keep visiting.

Count the sheep, perhaps. It works for some.

Guthix, the travellers have found my cave under the Lumbridge swamp. They come with bowls to collect your tears from the walls, and they leave wiser. I let them in, as I was told. How many may I let in before the tears run dry?

Juna, guardian of the Tears of Guthix

Mine tears will not run dry, faithful Juna. I wept them at the end of the old wars, when I saw what mine brothers had done to the land. There is more grief in them than any traveller can drink.

Let in those who bring thee a story. Thou hast guarded the cave longer than the dwarves have mined, and thou hast earned the tales.

Dear Guthix, the travellers shear my sheep twice a day now, and some of them try to hit my sheep with swords. The blows never land. Is this your doing, and should I charge extra?

Fred the Farmer, north of Lumbridge

It is mine doing. The sheep are under mine protection, and their purpose is essential, albeit secret. I watch every one of them at all times. Charge what thou wilt for the wool. Charge nothing for the sword blows, for there is nothing to charge.

Thou mayst have noticed the swordsmen limping away afterwards. Mine invisible force kicks every attacker of a sheep in the balls. It is the one part of balance that needs no explaining.

And so I return to mine slumber, which is no slumber. The summer will turn, and the crops with it.

Balance Is Power-

Guthix

DISCLAIMER: The views of Guthix do not reflect the views of DoubleU. DoubleU tried to stop him giving away its secrets, but he is a god.