Redrum Frank wouldn't be Redrum Frank without Redbeard Frank. Thanks to Redbeard Frank for permission to use his likeness. Posted June, 2003

    From the Journal of Redrum Frank, Chapter Three

                                                      Reunion

                Almost immediately on my first arrival to Lumbridge I’d become a citizen proper; with all the rights and privileges that allows… So when I first  determined to see my brother I knew exactly the path to take from Lummy to Sarim to avoid goblins and highwaymen (because I was new and inexperienced and weak of limb); of both decisions, I can say there’s nothing like reincarnation-- it really gives you an edge-- but that’s another tale.
                I hadn’t seen Redbeard since I was a little ‘Rum, and I wondered what he was like now, and if he was still up to his old tricks. I had a mix of emotions and memories, thinking of us as lads; and he being the older lad. When we were little we ran wild together looking for treasure and respawning spots, and that was fun, but I recalled too he bullied me, trying to get me to wear goblin armor and the like.
                Our uncle Darkrum would turn in his grave to hear me say it, but there were buccaneers in our family once, and Redbeard always felt the unsatisfied pangs of adventure. He considered himself quite a tough guy, who would be roaming the high seas now if only something-or-other wasn’t preventing him; and there was always something-or-other. Me and Frank were raised by our uncle chiefly, who carried on the tradition of seamanship in stead of our dad, who suffered from a crippling, life long condition of wind that kept our family apart. I think it was missing our dad that always made Redbeard wild; on me it had the opposite effect.
                But after all, he was my brother, and so anxious I was to see him I hopped over the fence from Draynor and ran into the Rusty Anchor Pub.
                “Frank!” I called out, and he turned, but didn’t immediately recognize me.
                “Noob!” he shot back.
                “Frank, it’s me-” I made a face and tugged at my beard that had been much shorter as a child.
                “Frank?” he repeated.
                “Arrrh!” I cried out.
                “Arrrh!” he was a bit surprised.
                “Arrrh!” I beamed back.
                “Arrrh!” he welcomed me back to Sarim.
                We had a few drinks and talked about old times. He hinted that he had some secret, some big scheme I couldn’t worm out of him; there was always one big scheme or another Redbeard had- so many of them I think he forgot the old one as soon as he thought up the latest. And I told him of my brief adventures so far. He hemmed and hawed and chucked, telling me where I’d gone wrong, and what he would have done; but not as he used to chide me, not as I remembered from times past, but more with a tone that said, “if I had only been there with you too.”
                It was good to see him again. Sometimes you can drift away from someone; it can seem harder to stay together than it’s worth. And then you miss them in the end, and wonder when you’ll meet again; and if you’ll be friends when you do.. And when you find you are friends again, it seems it happened when you least expected it.. Then you think maybe somehow you were friends all along.
                It was when I asked how the barman at the Blue Moon Inn was, and he said they weren’t speaking to each other that I said we should go to Varrock. I thought my brother should bury the hatchet, as they say- although in all the days of my life I’d never found a hatchet by using a shovel.
                He agreed; we might go to Varrock, yes. We might have a beer at the blue moon in, sure. He didn’t want to give up too much pride too quick, and I grinned inside while listening.
                We made our way in high spirits, hopping over fences and splashing through the shallow spot of the stream behind the Champion’s Guild. Frank talked larger than life all the way there. He talked about the wild things we did as kids, asking over and over, ‘do you remember?’ and some I did, and some it sounded like he made up,  it was so long ago. He talked about all the thing’s he’d done in my absence, and how close he was again to securing employment on a ship, and all the buccaneering he was going to do, and the treasure he was going to find, and how even he couldn’t believe how different the life he was going to lead soon was from the one he used to have. I found it hard to believe too.
                We reached the south Varrock gate- I stopped to beat up a guard and then we ambled into the Blue Moon.
                “Frank!” the bartender greeted me as a pleasing surprise. I shook hands and ordered a drink.
                “Frank,” he greeted my brother tight lipped.
                That Frank nodded back.
                “How’s things,” the barman said to my brother.
                “Not bad, Ernie.”
                “Business looks good,” I said, but really it was just the same old regulars. I nodded to Hops, I barely knew him then.
                “It is good,” Ernest brightened up, “I opened another bar in fact.”
                “Really, that‘s great! Ernie, can I buy my brother a beer?” I said smoothly.
                He poured one out slowly, not looking at Redbeard too much.
                My brother and I sat by the window, watching the traffic in and out of the general store.. The bar was pretty quiet. The bartender busied himself in leaving us alone.
                “Why don’t you relax, Ernie?” I asked.
                “Nay, you won’t catch me sitting down here- too much to do.”
                Come to think of it I’d never seen Ernie sit down.. But whatever he was doing, it didn’t look to important; wandering the bar and ducking in and out of the kitchen every now and then.
                My brother had almost finished his drink and had that sour look on his face that boded ill. I remembered that look from my 14th birthday party.
                “Well,” I caught Ernie’s attention “business is good- that must be gratifying.”
                “In a way, in a way..” Ernie began and I could hear the whole day going south. “I mean, after all..” he went on slowly, gathering the quiet of the bar into his mouth before he spoke for effect and I could feel Frank begin to bristle.         
                “None of it’s real anyway, right?”
                “How’s that, Ernie?” My brother pronounced.
                “Well,” Ernie smiled smugly “we’re all just characters in a computer game.”
                Frank leapt past me, and tripping over a pile of arrows almost fell at Ernie’s feet but still managed to grab him. I jumped up to grab my brother and some man stepped between us. A whole lot of backs turned, all the regulars started twiddling their thumbs and found themselves suddenly very interested in the tudor-style ceiling.
                Just then one of the Phoenix Gang recruits stumbled in, heady with questing, and punched Johnny the Beard on the nose.
                Ernie was swinging wildly, my brother doing more shouting than fighting. The ‘Beard looked like he was done for, and some tourist from Lummy was actually trying to order a beer while all this went on. I got my arm around Frank’s head and he let go of Ernie suddenly, we both fell over backwards on the floor. Ernie was already running behind the bar to pouring a beer for his new customer.
                “Are they ok?” the stranger asked.
                “Oh sure,” he panted, “they’re brothers.”
                My brother was back on his feet before me. It was Ernie’s opportunity.
                “Out!” Ernie shrieked from his corner “I want you both out!”
                I couldn’t think of a thing to say.
                “Frank,” he yelled “I don’t want to see you in here again!”
                “Which one?” I asked.
                “Your brother!”
                Redbeard spat and turned slowly away, still breathing hard. He left without a word, after a moment I followed.
                I caught up with him by the wheat field. For a while we walked in silence. I looked toward the horizon. The sun was setting and cast an orange glow over the land, it was really beautiful. Frank looked at the ground.
                “I suppose you apologized to him,” he growled. I let him have his fume. When the Rusty Anchor was in sight I had to speak.
                “So he’s a loudmouth,” I said, “what’s it got to do with you? Let him have his opinion. What the hell’s a ‘computer’, anyway?”
                “He just gets under my skin, that‘s all. What a smarmy, loud-mouthed prat. He’s got no respect, that’s all. I don’t care what he thinks about things, he just bugs me.”
                My brother was making a bee-line for the bar. We both thought we had other things to do that day..
                “Oh, by the way, this fell out of your pocket when you were fighting.” I handed him a star of Saradomin.
                “Oh,” Frank said quietly. It wasn’t his only secret, but it may have been his one treasure.
                My brother may have blushed, or it could have been the light of the setting sun… Anyway I didn’t give him back the toy ship.

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