Done just after the gnome village appeared and skills were updated... back in those days of Fatigue! I managed to get my fatigue stat quite high actually.. When speaking of this tale, 'up' is pronounced 'oop'.

    By Redrum Frank for the Varrock Slaughter Daily

                                                      Trouble Up North

               Not long ago exciting new territories to the west were opened; another chapter added and land charted of our great world. But while all this was going on, a smaller drama was unfolding to the north, and I was lucky enough to be stuck there on account of a hot news tip and a twisted ankle.
                Anyone visiting the dwarven mines lately could see it looked like the dwarves were barely working, at best. For some weeks tension had been building between they as suppliers and a chief customer, mining magnate and entrepreneur Mr. Stanvers; rumor had begun to circulate of an impending strike.
                Certain factions far south the Ardougnes had been stocking arms heavily of late. As they needed greater quantities of coal to smelt greater numbers of arms, Mr. Stankers- a very rich man with a very strange sense of humor- charged them more and more for the coal they needed and paid the dwarves less and less because he bought in bulk. The dwarves were stuck, as the passers-by who used their facilities accounted for not even 15% of their revenue; on top of which, Stankers let his own kind use his coal trucks for free, while the dwarves paid a percentage of their haul.
                Traffic through Arsgania though would suffer tremendously if the mines were closed, and the king was said to be very worried. The White Knights stepped in to negotiate but it was plain they had nothing to say. I tried sending word to Osman of Kahrid, imploring him to come (I am a friend of Al Kharid); but can’t report on his reply, the situation came to a head so quickly there wasn‘t time to receive it.
                What I can say is I spent that day enjoying the hospitality of a very senior dwarf, who for obvious reasons I cannot name, partially on account of a counting game we played that involved emptying mugs of ale.. Dwarves love mathematics that way.
                We were holed up in the mines on account of the high number of people that had been passing by above ground, pestering the dwarves for directions to the new eastern lands. So I think the sound may have been going on for a while before we heard it, but when we did we rushed out as best we could.
                A tremendous rumbling seemed to shake the land, the sound of an unceasing earthquake.
                “Blast furnaces!” my host shouted, “It’s a goblin army!” he cried out “Stankers the stinker has struck a deal with the hobgoblins!”
                “Arrh,” I shouted back, unconvinced. “Maybe it’s just a clan war..”
                I stood on a rise, trying to see into the wild, but all was darkness ahead. My pal came and stood with me, then asked if he could get on my shoulders.
                “I think,” I rubbed my ankle with a pained look “you should send out scouts before there’s a panic below.”
                Already his folk were running around like chickens; but without feathers, and with big black beards instead, and also rather more inebriated than regular fowl (on weekdays). Some were grabbing picks to defend themselves with, others hiding away the lumps of coal they got for Christmas. Many could only make sour faces for their defense.
                “Men!” I heard him growl, “never trust them.”
                I was left alone as scouts were marshaled. I strained my ears to hear what direction the noise could be coming from but it was truly impossible to tell.. I tried feeling the ground with my hands but could tell nothing from that, except that a unicorn had recently paused there between meals. I went below to wash my hands.
                It was an anxious time as the scouts departed in all directions of the compass. I sat outside and waited; eventually my host rejoined me. He looked glum, saying nothing. I thought the rumble had gotten worse but I didn’t want to say anything. Someone rushed by, calling out toward us-
                “Where’s the new western lands?”
                “West” I shouted back with a point.
                “What’s that noise?” they called back “drop party?”
                I shook my head, and then they were gone.
                One of the first scouts to leave had returned without either of us noticing beneath the din.
                “Sir!” he staggered over.
                “What are you doing back here!” roared my host.
                “Sir-” he gasped- “it’s not goblins!”
                “What?”
                “It’s not goblins, sir, nor any army-”
                “What is it for Saradomin’s sake?”
                “Ag- ag-”
                I though he was choking on his beard.
                “Agility sir!” he finally gasped “hundreds of people running in a circle-”
                “Ah!” said the other “it is the way of Men..”
                “-the ground quakes, the trees sway with the pounding of the earth!”
                “You did well to return,” his boss begrudged.
                “But sir- there’s more- they want to buy our coal, sir- they may go to war!”
                “Aha!” the other sat up with a wild grin “now Stankers will have to give in! Lets go see him!” He waved his arms at his men and they rushed forward not knowing what was going on exactly, but going wild to see the look of victory on his face. A few looked to me as they gathered.
                “Eerm, I think I may hang around here a while- I’m pretty tired.”
                A great laugh went up from them all.
                “Good luck!” my host called back as he led them off, “you won’t find any beds around these mines!”

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