Letters #48 - Saradomin at the Colosseum

Saradomin at the Colosseum

Varlamore has arrived in the south, with its cypress roads, its gardens and its great arena. The god of wisdom receives a challenge from the arena's champion, a complaint about a rat king and a whisper from a black stone.

Greetings, my faithful followers. I promised you lands to the south, and the south has outdone itself. Varlamore is a land of law, roads and gardens. I have not felt so at home in ages.

It also has an arena, which I am trying very hard not to think about.

Saradomin of the north. I am the champion of the Colosseum of Civitas illa Fortis. Your followers enter my arena and fight eleven waves of my finest warriors to earn the right to face me. Then I meet them in the twelfth, and the crowd roars. I have never lost before an audience. Send me your best, and bring a seat for yourself.

Sol Heredit, champion of the Fortis Colosseum

Sol, I do not watch fights for entertainment. I am told my followers have beaten you, more than once, and before a very large audience. I am told the crowd roared then too.

I will not send my best. My best will come anyway, because you are there. That is the trouble with champions.

Holy Saradomin, under the sewers of Varrock lives a rat as big as a cart, with a crown of filth. The travellers climb through the broken bars to fight him, one at a time. Each one says he fought the king alone, in his own lair, though fifty went down that morning. My name is Rat. Please make it stop.

Rat Burgiss, of the road south of Varrock

The king is Scurrius, and each traveller does meet him alone. His lair seems to have a copy for every visitor. How that works, I do not know, and my brother Guthix will not say.

As for your name, Mr Burgiss, I cannot change it. I can only promise that nobody thinks you are him.

Saradomin, a traveller showed me a fragment of black stone. When she held it, she stepped into a grey world of shadows, where a voice whispered from the dark. She came back pale and wanted to go again. I see many things. This I do not wish to see. What is it?

The Oracle, of Ice Mountain

It is the realm of The Whisperer, reached through blackstone. It came with the fusion, and it should have stayed where it was.

Wise Oracle, look away. Some voices are best not answered, even by those who answer everything.

A Guard, of Civitas illa Fortis, asks: "Three moons glare at the travellers who walk the paths below our city. Are they gods of yours?"
No. They are the Moons of Peril, and they are no friends of mine. Bring a torch and a strong stomach.

The Bartender of the Jolly Boar Inn asks: "Was there another trial? My customers say the trails were blazed again."
There was. The Second Trailblaze, wider than the first, with relics in eight tiers. I did not win it. Neither did Zamorak, whatever he tells you.

Yours in wisdom,

Saradomin

DISCLAIMER: The views of Saradomin do not reflect the views of DoubleU. DoubleU tried to stop him saying anything controversial, but he is a god.