The story that started it all! Some players begged and threatened me get me to stop telling this story one night in Catherby. Thank player Meiessiah that I didn't, and tell them they are partly responsible for this site if you see them.

    From the Journal of Redrum Frank, Chapter Three

                                                      The Sad Lesser Demon

 [ I was quite young when this happened; some may have noticed by the south gate of Varrock the empty building next to the sword shop, but it was not always abandoned.]

                I recall sitting in the Dancing Donkey counting empty beer glasses when Hops said to me,
                “Lets go see that old lesser across the way...”
                Hops says nothing most of the time, but I know it’s because he’s of a sensitive nature. He’s all too willing to go out of his way to help others in distress.
                “Well Hops,” I said, “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, but why should we? I mean, a Lesser?”
                “No one ever visits him,” hops told me, “He’s sad as all get-out.. sad and lonely, ‘cause no one ever visits him.”
                “How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” I asked, but Hops only shrugged. “Those things matter,” I went on, “I mean, ever met Morgan LeFay..?”
                “Ned told me Lesser’s like gifts,” Hops went on.
                “They do?”
                “Sure,” Hops answered, “everyone likes gifts, don‘t they? Lets bring him a pie.”
                “Hops, Hops,” I sighed.
                “I’ll get the red berries- you can bake it, okay? We’ll meet at the Jolly Boar.”
                I hurried over to get another drink in but found Hops already there.
                “I’m sure he’ll like this,” Hops prattled on.
                “If it’s a ‘he’, he probably will.” I grumbled.
                I quickly finished and we strolled across the lane to the south gate.
                “How does one address a lesser?” Hops asked “I’ve never met one.”
                “Nor I.”
                “ ‘Mr.’ I suppose.”
                “Or ‘Mrs.’”
                Hopsy knocked on the door. A shabby looking man answered and asked us what we wanted.
                “To see the lesser!” Hops beamed.
                The fellow at the door was momentarily stunned, and Hops repeated himself.
                “The lesser?” the fellow croaked back.
                “Yes, to bring a little happiness to his loneliness,” Hops said eloquently.
                “You know there’s no quest points!” the doorman stuttered.
                “That’s ok,” said Hops.
                “No helmets! No black shields! Not even fire runes!”
                “Everyone needs a friend,” I spoke up, and it was then that I really felt we were doing a good thing. “even a Lesser Demon.”
                He rolled his eyes I recall, but let us in.
                It was dark inside, and would have been quite dark without the torch on the wall, so at first we couldn't see the Lesser at all. We stood there for a bit feeling rather silly.
                The big red fellow was sulking or skulking in a corner, and really looking quite depressed about things.
                “Say something to him,” I told hops.
                “No, you- I brought the pie.”
                “Sure...” It might not get me to heaven, I thought, but it’s my good deed of the day. Mr. or Mrs., it was still a creature in distress; one with it’s own worries, it’s own concerns, which I couldn’t possibly imagine, but nevertheless..
                A good deed, a gesture toward your fellow beings, can’t help but be understood by one- no matter how foreign looking- that shared so much in common with ourselves. I though to myself, ol’ Hopsy isn’t so far off after all. I stepped forward with our pie, and then..
                ..that was when the Lesser ripped into us, and it hurt! The pie was the first casualty. My recollection of what happened is a little hazy, but I know Hops was the first out the door.
                We met the next day for pizza and lobster, still nursing our wounds; Hops didn’t say too much.
                “That one,” I told him, “was a Miss..”

Back to Contents!