A short piece on RS2, penned- well, typed honestly- just before the additions of Seeds and Greater Farmers were added to the game. May, 2005

 
Great News For Draynor!
by Redrum Frank
 
(From The Varrock Slaughter Daily, originally published under the title Draynor Woots It Up)

 
     The town of Draynor, which has for so long enjoyed a reputation for being quiet to the point boredom, has lately been invigorated by a new civic project. The Draynor sewer, which seemed to spring up overnight, has reinvigorated that hamlet to the dizzying point of entertaining visitors and causing passers-by to stop and consider lingering.
     Whether you are from exotic Kandarin, or rough-and-tumble Varrock, or bustling Falador, one thing all citizens of whatever tastes love is a sewer! Whether exploring, training, or just hanging out, the high and low, rich and poor of the kingdom all rub shoulders in our sewers- there the new and mythic clash, where affluence and effluence meet.
     Plans for the sewer began some months ago when King Roald declared that he had ‘had it up to here.’
     Some of his advisors thought he meant the nearby priest Father Lawrence, and set out to kill him-- but on the way were informed that his majesty was referring to the unaccommodating overflow of his commode, and it was Varrock’s waste problem that was really vexing his majesty; and so this extension began.
     Impressively, the facility regularly moves thousands of gallons of waste from Falador, as well as handling Varrock runoff, up to 125k gallons of liquid waste and 100k of solid, enough to pave a road from here to Yanille and back, if anyone ever got the disgusting idea to do so.
      I was particularly interested in what economic impact the project was making on Draynor, and after a quick fact-finding trip to the Varrock Palace, sallied forth as I am wont to do in search of testimony from locals.
     First met was one of the most respected of the town, Morgan of Draynor, who handles many of the towns affairs, living quietly with his sister and a clove of garlic. We spoke outside his house:
      ‘I have slain the foul creature!’ I opened cheerily.
    ‘Thank you, thank you! You will always be a hero in our village!’ Morgan gushed.
    ‘In that case, can you tell me how the new sanitation system has changed Draynor?’
     ‘Truly,’ Morgan beamed, ‘it has brought us up to speed with the rest of the fast-paced world! As to what it will mean to Draynor’s future, who can say? But already it has attracted such a number of visitors that many of our town are considering the future possibility of installing a toilet to compliment it.’
      And what a compliment that would be!
     Excitedly I descended the nearby hatch, and found the cavernous space of the facility worthy of all the kingdom might offer it. That being said, I must add that those seeking the dangers of combat in Draynor may be disappointed; the facility had so far only attracted the minor grotesqueries of Skeleton and Zombie. But those with a nose for waste and the varied means of disposing of it cannot fail to appreciate that what the Draynor addition lacks in challenges, it makes up for in efficiency.
     Truly, Draynor is an underrated spot: in my early days I spent a lot of time around Port Sarim, then usually headed over to Draynor, being blind drunk as I was and under the delusion that I was on my way to Falador. The town holds fond memories for me: though I seldom tell, it was I who freed Prince Ali from his captivity, pitting myself against the notorious Lady Keli. Later too when I sought passage to dangerous Crandor Isle, it was in Draynor that I found my captain- a retired sailor named Ned who I later interviewed for the ’Daily.
     The town has a number of other attractions, for those unlike myself who have visited there on purpose- there are abundant wheat fields, two lowly Dark Wizards, and a stray Black Night with a penchant for being ranged by those archers crafty enough to stand on the other side of a rock. A branch of the old Bank of Varrock still operates here; there some are Oak trees, and there are five Willow trees to attract the chopper and Fletcher. They are usually busy, but I recall a little to the East and Southeast a couple Yew trees, rarely visited.
     There are two fishing spots as well, which I baited and netted thoroughly in my youth.
     To the South, the Wizards Tower still attracts visitors and rangers who come to pay their respect to the Lesser Demon incarcerated there.
     Here in Draynor’s market you can find the only horses currently available, sold by an unfortunate halfwit named Django, carved from wood and available at 150gp each. They make nice gifts!
     I spoke next to a local merchant, wondering whether the sewer project had impacted his business:
      ‘I wonder, has the new project impacted your business?’
      ‘Frank! You promised to show me the interview you did with me ages ago- did you bring it?’
      ‘Errm..’
      ‘What did I do, Frank? You haven’t stopped by to hear a rope or twist a yarn with me in so long! Why have you abandoned old Ned?’
      ‘Well, Ned, it just slipped my mind-’
      ‘The sea may be behind me now, but don’t think you’re beyond my grasp!’
      ‘Ned, I‘ve just been busy- if there’s anything I can do to make it up-’
      ‘How much rope would you like, then?’
      ‘What?’
      ‘Three? Five cords?’
      ‘Um.. Gimme three.’
      ‘Here you are- here’s one, and another; and one, two, three.’
      ‘That’s five you’ve given me.’
      ‘Better pay up, Frank.’
      ‘I’ll have to go to the bank, I don’t have anything on me.’
      ‘Hurry back.’
      ‘How much is it?’
      ‘For you? Ten K.’
      On the way to the local bank I got a hot tip, and immediately rushed East along the Draynor-Lumbridge path to see what I could find out.
      Within the ruins of an old tollbooth, where the Varrock guards once spent their time off harvesting what goods they could from passers by, I found a locked trap door easily opened, and descended-
      What I found shocked me to my bones (I keep a spare set of Dragon bones just for surprises, and had them with me today)-- unknown to the general public, a fanatical group of locals have banded themselves together against what they feel is the uncontrollable growth of our kingdom’s monster population!
      They call themselves Humans Against Monsters, or HAM for short, and their hope is to stamp out monsters of all kind from our world! They meet in secret, wearing robes equally garish as their acronym, which forces them to meet in this underground place- for the color of these garments has been known to rouse normally reasonable people into mindless violence against the wearer!
     I was amazed to hear their plans, horrified at such reckless generalization of zoology, and tried speaking to a few of the members- but their conversation was so unintelligible as to be unrepeatable. Their leader was engaged in an endless stream of rousing his rabble from a stage, otherwise I would have tried interviewing him.
    With their organization, HAM seeks to deprive the common adventurer of employment! What will the adventurer do if they were to be successful? Abandon their quests for glory, and sit idle with their achievements behind them? Make handicraft for tourists? Waste the day in the local tavern? Take up the life of a farmer? To say nothing of the devastating ecological impact such plans could have! And the ruin it would bring to traders of all kinds!
     I was glad to find I was not alone in my disapproval, for there seemed to be several other citizens attacking these followers in earnest, while their leader raved on oblivious. After a few minutes I could stand the place no more, and left.
     Let me leave reader with a warning, however: these HAM people are not to be taken lightly. They embody the spirit of apathy and Froobism that blights some citizens of our kingdom in this modern age. It is little wonder that their ranks swell with the inexperienced and boorish, fearful even the lowliest of goblin, giant rat, or stray cabbage from Lumbridge. There is some evidence too that it was these HAMs who broke into the old offices above the Al Kharid Palace one Autumn some years ago, stealing the last boxes of Christmas Crackers- and temporarily paralyzing the economy when they distributed them to citizens!
     I came away from my investigation with a few comforting thoughts, however: it is common knowledge that King Roald is quite immune to the wishes of his people, and that the griping of HAM members would be ignored- I for one am thankful for his indifference.
     Also the thought that someday there would be a toilet in Draynor was something to anticipate, and I cursed it’s absence while running as fast as I could back to Falador. I made it just in time.

-Redrum Frank

 
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