Letters #31 - Zamorak Hears the Square

Zamorak Hears the Square

On the day of love, the lord of chaos answers the noise of Varrock square: dancing beggars, a town full of Bobs, a tale nobody can finish, and the lurers of the Wilderness. He hates Valentine's Day, and says so.

Hail, followers of darkness. Today the mortals give each other flowers and bad poems. I give you letters, which is worse.

Varrock has never been so loud. I can hear the square from my throne, and my throne is a long way down.

Zamorak, outside the west bank a crowd of beggars dances all day. Each one dances for a couple of minutes, calling "Dancing for money plox" over and over, and each call comes in a new colour or a new wave. Then they rest and start again. Is it a curse of yours? I cannot get it out of my head.

A Guard, of the Varrock west bank

It is no curse of mine. I wish it were. A beggar who sings in colours is a beggar with ambition, and I respect ambition.

As for getting it out of your head: you cannot. Plox is forever. Dance along, and you may even earn a coin.

Lord Zamorak, I stand in the castle courtyard and ask each traveller who they are. For years they gave me their names. Now every one of them answers "Bob". Yesterday I met forty Bobs. Are they lying, or is the world full of Bobs?

Hans, of Lumbridge castle

Ask them "Who are you!?" and you will always get "Bob". It is a saying of the age, and the travellers repeat it the way children repeat a rude word.

Are they lying? Of course. Is the world full of Bobs? Also yes. Both can be true. Welcome to my favourite kind of truth.

Zamorak, I am the real Bob. I sell axes in Lumbridge, and I have been Bob all my life. Now every stranger in the land says he is Bob, and my customers cannot find me. Make them stop.

Bob, of Bob's Brilliant Axes, Lumbridge

Bob, I cannot make a crowd stop doing something stupid. I can only make it more stupid. Hang a sign over your shop: "The other Bob". They will flock to you.

Dark lord, every night a traveller in my inn starts the tale of the mighty Gonthorean. Every night he is shouted down before the end. The tale has passed from bank to bank across the land, and I have never heard how it finishes. Do you know?

The Bartender of the Blue Moon Inn, Varrock

I know exactly how it ends. The mighty Gonthorean was mighty, and then he did a mighty thing, and everybody cheered.

There. Now you know as much as the travellers do, which is nothing. That is the beauty of the tale. Nobody finishes it, so nobody can prove it wrong.

Master, I stand at the edge of your Wilderness and open the way to the Abyss. Lately a crowd of newcomers walks past me every evening behind a mage called Elvemage. He promises them treasure in the north. None of them comes back, and he always does. Should I warn them?

The Mage of Zamorak, at the edge of the Wilderness

Warn them? You serve me. Hold the gate open, smile, and wish them luck.

Elvemage is one of my finest lurers, though he has never once prayed to me. Deep in my Wilderness lives a magical mauve money-dropping monster, found only by those who carry plenty worth taking. He leads them to it. They find it. It is him.

Zamorak, a bard showed me a moving picture of travellers fighting in the Wilderness, all in step with a song. It was called "Blow Me Away". Romeo says it is the most romantic thing he has ever seen. Is it?

Juliet, of Varrock

It is the most romantic thing I have ever seen, and I have seen a demon eat a wedding. The bards of moving pictures set my Wilderness to music: blood, spells and a good beat. B00merTwins made that one, and I watch it every night.

Tell Romeo to make you one for Valentine's Day. Tell him to die in it. It improves any romance.

Strength through chaos,

Zamorak

DISCLAIMER: The views of Zamorak do not reflect the views of DoubleU. DoubleU would ban him, but he's a god.