Letters #37 - Zamorak Was Bored

Zamorak Was Bored

The lord of chaos was bored, and then the world did his work for him. Miners riot over rocks, woodcutters brawl over trees, and every letter in the bag asks for more. Zamorak has never been prouder of anything he did not do.

Hail, followers of darkness. I will be honest with you, which I rarely am. For a while I was bored. The same faces, the same fights, the same field. Even my demons yawned.

Then you started it yourselves. Without one push from me. I could weep.

Zamorak, the miners of Rimmington have rioted. Two men claimed the same iron rock, and by evening forty were fighting over it with pickaxes. They broke my window and the rock. Is this your doing?

Anja, of Rimmington

Sadly, no. I would love to take the credit, but this one is all yours. Forty miners, one rock, no demons required. Beautiful.

The rock grows back, Anja. The window does not. Charge the miners for it. They will riot again, and you will have a new window every week.

Dark one, the woodcutters fought over the yews behind the palace last night. One shouted that he had been waiting at that tree since dawn. Another shouted that he had been waiting since the day before. We arrested eleven of them, and they chopped through the cell door.

A Guard, of the Varrock palace

Of course they did. They had axes. Who arrests a woodcutter and leaves him his axe?

This is what happens when a world runs out of room. Every rock has three miners on it and every tree has five woodcutters. They do not hate each other. They are just bored, and boredom is my favourite kind of fuel.

Zamorak, my customers have killed every dragon they can reach, many times over. They come to my hut and ask for new ones. Bigger ones. Dragons that breathe something other than fire. Have you any left in the cellar?

Oziach, of his hut near Edgeville

Have I any dragons left? I have a whole world of them, in my dreams. Dragons of bone, dragons of rot, a dragon that refuses to stay dead. They live in the old world I want back, the one before my brother started tidying.

Tell your customers to write to Saradomin. Then tell them he said no. Then tell them I said wait.

Lord of chaos, my sailors want new seas. The routes to the west, the south and the far north are closed, and have been for as long as I have sailed. Your brother Saradomin promised once that the bolder members of the Council would open them. They are not bold yet. Can you make them bold?

Captain Tobias, of Port Sarim

The Council is many things. Bold is not one of them. They will open those routes on the day a sheep wins a duel.

Everybody writes to me now. More land, more monsters, more of everything. They write to Saradomin too, and to Guthix, who does not answer. Three gods, one bag of letters, and every letter says more. My brother wants to give you a modern world. I want to give you my old one. Sooner or later, one of us will get our way, and the other will throw a tantrum. I hope it is me. Either part.

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.