Letters #35 - Guthix Counts the Crowds

Guthix Counts the Crowds

The god of balance has been counting, and he does not like the sum. The old world is full: the rocks are crowded, the trees are crowded, and the same faces fight the same fights every day. Guthix answers his followers, and gives a warning.

Greetings, mortals. Each night I count the sheep, as is mine habit. Of late I have counted the travellers too. There are more of them than there are sheep, and the sheep are calmer.

Lord Guthix, there are three miners on every rock near my anvil. They stand shoulder to shoulder, swinging at the same stone, and they argue over every lump of ore. I came here for the quiet. Where did all these people come from?

Doric, of his anvil north of Falador

From the light, as they always have. But the light opens more often now, and the world doth not grow to meet it.

Mine land is wide, yet the old map hath its edges, and every traveller finds them. Three to a rock today. Four tomorrow. I see where the count leads, good dwarf, and it leads nowhere quiet.

Great Guthix, there are five woodcutters on every willow in Draynor. When a tree falls, they all stand and stare at the stump until it grows back. They do not talk, and they do not eat. I have watched one of them for a whole week. He has not slept once.

Ned, of Draynor Village

The travellers keep their own hours, Ned, and they need less sleep than thou. Since the ice, few beings in this world sleep as thou dost.

Let him cut. Watch him if thou must. But do not wake him if ever thou findest him sleeping. Some sleepers are better left as they lie.

Guthix, the goblins east of my castle are killed so often that they no longer bother to stand up straight. The same travellers fight the same goblins in the same field, day after day. Even the goblins yawn. Is the world growing tired?

Duke Horacio, of Lumbridge castle

It is. A world without new paths grows bored, and a bored world grows restless. Mine brothers feel it too. Saradomin dreams of tidy nations. Zamorak dreams of his old demons. Each dreams of a world the other would hate.

I tell thee plainly: if they quarrel over it, the balance will tip. The Edicts say what follows then. I would rather it did not come to that. I fear it will.

Lord of balance, the druids of the circle ask what we should do while the land grows crowded. Shall we plant more trees? Shall we bless more rocks? Shall we wake you?

Kaqemeex, of the druids' circle in Taverley

Plant the trees. Bless the rocks. Do not wake me. When I wake, I remake, and I do it without mercy for beast or man.

Enjoy this golden season, faithful druids. It is the finest the old world hath known, and it will not last forever.

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.