Letters #40 - Zamorak Spreads the Curse

Zamorak Spreads the Curse

The lord of chaos grabs the mailbag again. He explains why two worlds became one, why the Wilderness now follows you into town, and why the banks stay quiet. Then the W shouts, in capitals.

Hail, followers of darkness. The rest of you can read along and tremble. Guthix has been telling stories about walls. Time for the version with the good parts.

Zamorak, why did the worlds fuse? My mum says it was all your fault.

Shilop, a child of Varrock

Your mum flatters me. The old world got crowded. Every rock had three miners on it, and every tree had five woodcutters. Then the people started rioting all by themselves, and wrote to all three of us asking for more. Chaos grew in the streets without a single push from me.

Saradomin wanted the modern world with its tidy nations. I wanted the old world with my demons in it. We argued over who got which, the balance tipped, and Guthix woke up in a mood. Now there is one world with both in it, and you have more of everything. You're welcome.

Dread lord, I keep the graveyard of Lumbridge. Last week a traveller of great strength struck down a newcomer among my gravestones, nowhere near your Wilderness. Since the night of the wall, I bury more travellers than ever. What has changed?

Father Aereck, of the church of Lumbridge

When the worlds fused, the curse of my Wilderness thinned out and spread across every land. Any traveller may strike any other, anywhere, at any level, and every fight may draw a crowd. That strong traveller has my blessing.

Order more shovels, Father. Business is good.

Zamorak, the travellers fight in every street now. But when they reach my booth, they stop. Three steps from my counter, every blow falls short. They stand and glare at each other while they bank. Is this your doing?

A Banker, of Draynor Village

No. You can thank my goody-goody brother for that. Saradomin spread his hand over every banker, bank booth and bank chest, three steps in every direction and on every floor. Inside it, my curse cannot reach, and your customers' belongings sit safe.

The cowards call it the bankers' peace. I call it the waiting room. Everybody leaves it eventually.

MORTALS. THE Q HAS SPOKEN, SO NOW I SPEAK. I AM THE W. MY MAKER CHOSE A CAPITAL, BECAUSE A SMALL W IS FOR SMALL GODS. ONLY A MIGHTY W CAN CLOSE A GAP BETWEEN Q AND P. REMEMBER IT.

The W, demi-god of Zamorak

Isn't it wonderful? I made it myself. My brothers made little letters that stand together like shy children. Mine stands alone, in capitals, and shouts.

What gap does it close? Ask me again when you have earned the answer.

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.