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Clan Update

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Jagex Clan Cup 2011
The Jagex Clan Cup 2011 has been raging on over the month and has now culminated in the final stages of each of the Cups! The Combat and Combined Cups are now at the Semi Finals stages with our Combat Sub-Division 20v20 at the Grand Finals! The Skilling Cup has been a gruelling three week schedule of Fishing, Woodcutting and Mining in the main competition while the members-only section have been flexing their muscles in Agility, Thieving and Hunter.
This is the final weekend of the tournament with all of the finals taking place on Saturday night. The last contestants and fixtures of the Combat, 20v20 F2P and Combined Cup are:
Combat Cup: Semi-Finals
Brutality vs. The Titans
Chivalry Legions vs. RuneScape Dinasty
Combined Cup: Semi-Finals
Basedin2minutes vs. Australian Army
Family Unity Network have a bye to the Finals
20v20 F2P: Grand Finals
True 0wnage vs. Cheer Up
It's been a hectic tournament this year that was shortened to try and accommodate both the biggest clan update to happen to RuneScape and ensure that it happened before the Summer Holidays finished and people returned to College or work. I’m sure that next year will return to a similar format that we’re all used to next year with a whole bunch of improvements.
Good luck to all of the remaining clans in the tournament and don’t forget to check out the Jagex Cup Forum for the dates and times so you can spectate!
Mod Timbo

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The 'Clan Spotlight' section will return in future editions of the newsletter. If a member of your clan has produced something creative and you would like it to be featured, please email it to us at [email protected] with "Clan Newsletter Submission" in the title!

Player Submissions

Every month, we invite players to submit their own original works for inclusion in the newsletter.
We've had a massive haul of excellent submissions this month! Many thanks to everyone who's sent something in - we love this stuff as it really enriches the newsletter.

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Something different this month - for the first time, this section is featuring an amazing RuneScape cake by Ms Ghia !

This was made for our tenth anniversary a few months ago but it's only just come to my attention now. I couldn't not include it!
The level of detail is just unbelievable. Make sure you check out Ms Ghia's "making of" movie in high detail - you will see some things you might have missed!

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Back to the written word now. For the second month in a row, we are pleased to feature a piece by Lebbeh !

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-Valley of Shadows-
The stars glinted dreamily through the thick blanket of black, casting little light on the crisp landscape. Low-lying mist swept the valley in routine shifts, catching all life and taking it prisoner. A deafening silence rang through the lowlands, the type of silence that would chill any man to the bone and send shivers up his spine. The stillness of the dusk hung with a heavy eeriness, coercing a palpable fear out of any normal being.
The Shadow moved stealthily across the valley wall, its silhouette as black as the night in the sharp moonlight projected from behind it, before disappearing back into the abyss. If anyone was trying to find it, they would quickly be deceived by their own eyes. A single cloud drifted contently across the sky, briefly obscuring the view of the stars before disappearing beyond the sloping hills.
Almost as if on cue, the silence of the night shattered like glass as a stout man clad in chainmail came stumbling out of a cave opening carved into the rocky wall of the valley. The man darted his eyes to the left before running to his right, following the path of a calm river, his panting resonating through the now stirred landscape. The long grass resisted his every step and the man almost fell numerous times as he clutched a small, red box in both outstretched arms.
The man slowed slightly to examine his surroundings, fighting the adrenaline that told him to run and reached for a small, steel dagger. Controlling his breathing, the man listened for any movement in the undergrowth. Nothing. Putting his dagger back into its sheath, the man began to walk down the river bank, his reflection mirrored perfectly in the silver surface of the water.
He smirked confidently to himself, holding the treasure which he had plundered carefully to his chest, sending reassuring warmth through his body. The Shadow looked for his overconfidence, and it too smiled...an evil smile.
As the man admired the gorged moon that showered him in bright light, his Shadow reached for the dagger that he had just placed back into the sheath. In a quick, flicking motion, the Shadow leapt from where it lay on the ground and plunged the sharp dagger directly between the man’s shoulder blades, causing him to grunt and fall forward as a jet of crimson liquid shot across the pristine scenery, dyeing the lush grass red.
The man’s body splashed clumsily into the shallow waters of the river, disrupting the calm surface before Damis plucked the small box from his dead hands and laughed to himself. Damis opened the chest briskly, the Shadow Diamond glimmering in the white light, before closing it and slowly walking back to its home.

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Next, a story by Mors et Vita :

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A Wanderer in Mort Myre
The Green. The oppressive color swirled through his mind and entwined his body in an inescapable embrace. His soul screamed at the revolting Green light that reflected off the Green pools, and he cried out against the Green smog that choked his lungs and tortured his breath with thick, Green smoke. But it was the Ghasts, those hideous spirits that sapped whatever energy remained in this living corpse of his, who persecuted his being into the convoluted shape it possessed. Their barren, Green forms passed through his pale bones, infecting them with cruel color and consuming the life they had once supported.
The Hunger. An insatiable, ever-present Hunger sent daggers of anguish crawling through his being and ripped through him with every pulse of his heart. It would be criminally incorrect to say the wanderer’s every step was agony, for the wanderer could hardly move, let alone step, and even in those long, blank periods when he laid inhumanely still the Hunger’s laughter propelled echoes of misery throughout his body.
As his form pushed itself forward, and the Green devoured his soul while the Hunger tore apart his frame, he found himself gazing at a most dreadful sight; to call it man fails to describe the appearance of the creature that stared back. Its clothing, the color of which had faded into dull gray, hung off his shoulders in tatters like the wings of some defeated, long-forgotten angel. Its skin, once resplendent and lively, had conformed to the pale Green of the swamp so the eye could barely distinguish the creature’s form from the dying bog in which it lay, and it clung so tightly to the bones beneath that their dying white forms almost escaped its surface.
But it was the eyes that pierced the heart with tendrils of unrelenting pity. No, it was not the veins that criss-crossed the white space. And it was not the irises that had taken on the sterile hue of defeat. Rather, it was what lay beneath. The so-called windows to the soul were now portals to the infinite, abyss, filled with a blackness that reached deep into one’s mind and overwhelmed its vigor with fatigue and resignation; the entrance only interrupted by the fluttering of the creature’s eyelids, opening and closing with the beat of the wanderer’s heart.
Not even our poor wanderer, so tormented as he himself was, could ignore the wretched creature before his eyes. He reached out to touch the thing, to caress it and bring it forth from the emptiness that so powerfully radiated from its frail body. Slowly, he felt his fingers pierce the murky surface of the water into which he gazed, and watched as the waves they formed distorted the being below. A humorless smile crossed his face, and the corners of his lips seemed to penetrate the cheeks in which they were set. Laughing, he let himself fall, and the Green of the pool swallowed him up.

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Now for a piece of investigative journalism by Yubiusk Ink , roving reporter for the Gielinor Globe:

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The woods between Varrock and the Kharidian Desert hold many mysteries.
The rivalry between Farmer Jed and Farmer Muckfinger is not one of them.
Farmer Jed is a fairly well-known shepherd, a member of the S.A.S.
(Society of Advanced Shepherds, the self-proclaimed 'yin' to the similar Group of Advanced Gardener's 'yang')and a devout Saradominist.
Given his faith, Jed's tolerance for Zamorakians is remarkable. A cult of demon-worshipers can be found to the north around some odd altar, and while he and they are hardly great friends, he's been willing to trade the occasional dead lamb to them for a 'sacrifice' (although my guess is that as the Zamorakians are clearly lacking any survival skills the dead lamb serves a more utilitarian purpose).
Meanwhile, Farmer Muckfinger is a goblin rat-breeder, highly respected among his kind for the 'champ'n cavalry' he produces. He takes his work very seriously (although it largely consists of bonking the massive rats with his club until they do what he wants).
Muckfinger does NOT get along with Jed. Sheep are very loud. And his rats, with their sensitive hearing, easily become agitated by the constant baaing. Muckfinger's 'gotta train double hard' to get the proper response (in other words, he has to hit them additional times with the club).
Jed does NOT get along with Muckfinger. Rats will eat anything. Usually they settle for the adventurers that keep breaking into the farm to train, but the taste of human (even nice, tender just-off-the-island human)gets old after a while. Mutton is to them a delicacy. So the rats have taken to ignoring the adventurers and running straight past to Jed's farm.

My attempts to speak with Jed failed when he saw I was from the Gielinor Globe, but Muckfinger fortunately cannot read.
“What you want?” he snapped.
“Just to interview you,” I said smoothly.
The hideous creature blinked.
“I want to talk to you,” I explained, “and get your opinions on things.”
Muckfinger seemed no friendlier, but he sat down on a stump and listened.
“What are your opinions on the Zamorakian wizards?”
Muckfinger shrugged. “Dun' care about them. Dark flames god no friend to me.”
“I see.” I quickly jotted this down. “And how about the mugger?”
Muckfinger laughed cruelly. “He try an' rob me. Only got away from m'champs with coward trick.”
“Alright...and Farmer Jed?”
The goblin IMMEDIATELY entered a massive rant against the shepherd, going on about the loud sheep, Jed's attitude, how one of his rats choked on the wool... I wrote like mad, but only got about half what the goblin said before I ran out of parchment. What I captured is included in this report.
As the rant proceeded, the goblin became angrier and angrier. He soon turned his anger toward the nearest sentient being: Me. I was forced to extricate myself rather hurriedly. I hope what I have here will do.

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A series of RuneScape-themed vignettes by Polymath :

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The Ever-Changing World
I. A Community
It was a strange township, where bleak clouds ruled the blue skies more often than not, and towering, ancient willows were uncaringly being brought down by passing strangers. Travelers would usually scowl at its utter lack of grandeur and the knavish bandits of Lady Keli who plagued the northern crossroad. Oh, and also that foreboding edifice farther to the north that was rumored to be resided by a vehement creature. Countless adventurers, who were courageous—or stupid—enough, attempted to slay the demon, only to find themselves tangled in an implacable mass of thorny vines capable of stripping flesh from bone.

“It must be a gloomy place,” children living in other towns commented with sympathy, “to live in a place constantly haunted by the Mean Reaper.”

II. The Green Hero and the Slayer
That was when Maestro Fickleberry came to the dismantling town. He said he was a simple farmer, just a farmer, looking for a land to plant his seeds. “But, but, the soil here is unsuitable even to grass,” the people dissuaded him as best as they could, hoping to save the man from starvation. “And the sun hardly shines in our area.”

“Ah,” the farmer lifted a finger, “but it is possible to nourish the soil.”

Maestro Fickleberry, with his easy smile and unfailing habit to clasp his hands, did save the populace. His rough hands gave life to the withering floras of the community, and many a crop was produced, much to the inhabitants’ relief. Before long, old people from all over Misthalin journeyed and settled down at the thriving town. Often, one would hear the lilting laugh of childless wives as they washed together their clothes, or the seemingly derisive grunts of Maestro Fickleberry’s pigs. Though the monster still lurked during nightfall, the world was still a breathtaking wonder to witness for another day.

And that was when Elisha came. The statuesque, blond-haired woman that had bewitched the males of the town marched towards the mansion, bringing with her nothing more than a longbow, a quiver of arrows, daggers, and a wooden stake. She slew the being—a deathly pale man with such twisted glint in his dead eyes—and burned its head on the bonfire of the celebration.

“It must be an astonishing place,” children living in other towns remarked with wide eyes, “to live in that modest town.”

III. Usual Unusual Oddities
In the later years, when the community grew ever-developing, eccentricities spread like flames reducing a papyrus into nothing but ashes. Forever changed. There was this toy trader, who, of course, sold toys. How peculiar to choose establish such a business, especially when you dwelled in a place without youngsters. And there was that stern sailor whose tuppence no longer depended on voyages, but on how fine the ropes he made. He always complained of the color and pigment-obsessed woman who cared for her dyes only. Oh, and also the chicken that was often seen crowing near the manor, stomping instead of scratching the ground, as if maddened by whatever state it was in.

Sometimes, a man from the Tower would come to the marketplace, buying the best quality of wines from a red-coated merchant. The citizens would openly laugh whenever he muttered under his breath thamijimwok, or was it thingymabob? Oh, yes—it was thingummywut.

And the last was the strange, old man living next to the bank. His robes were too humble, if not drab, but the way he stood with that regal bearing of his, and took in his surroundings, told everyone that he was far more. The town gossip said he was the infamous robber that had wrecked their bank and stole the valuable trinket of an adventurer after annihilating her completely. Some claimed they saw Elisha the Great visiting him, but most sensible people would scoff and say that Elisha would not stoop so low to talk to an insignificant hermit.
So they thought, the Wise Old Man grinned, as he watched Draynor bustle with activity.

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And last but not least, an anonymous poem. (A note to the author: you didn't include your username in the email! If you'd like to be credited, please drop me another email from the same address and I'll edit your name in.)

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Wolves United
My wolves and I walked wearily
To where we died so valiantly
We stood our ground fighting strong
And lasted so very long

I stationed my troops high above
And ran to meet this treacherous dove
I wasn't twenty down
When she attacked from all around

We stood and fought but to no avail
They went through us like flame through a sail
She had us out-numbered two-to-one
And with that my friends my poem is done
In dedication to the troops that died supporting The Wolves Empire...

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If you would like to submit a piece of original content to be considered for the newsletter, please feel free to email it to us at [email protected] . We can't promise to use every submission but we do view all of them. We look forward to receiving your contributions!

Forum Spotlight

In this section, we will be showcasing a different noteworthy forum thread each month.
This month's featured thread is discussing the future of the Signature Heroes. It was created by Amascut in late 2010 and has been nominated for the Forum Spotlight by Mod Emilee .
Check it out here:

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Quick find code: 16-17-989-61983753
Home > RuneScape Forums > Future Game Updates > The Signature Heroes: Future

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Social Networking Update

J-Mods Temple Trek!

Our latest Temple Trekking revamp gave us the opportunity to run our first fully interactive Facebook event, where we emulated our own Temple Trek and players got the opportunity to choose what actions our Mods took. It was a lot of work as we had to prepare before hand for all the possible choices our players could take, not only by recreating all the possible paths our Mods could take, but also preparing them for every Mod our players could choose. It was a lot of fun to make and a special shout out should go out to Mod Crow, Mod Poppy and Mod French for letting us drag them out of their busy schedule to give us a hand to create this event which I believe our players enjoyed as much as we did.
We have also started an interesting initiative: “RS Movie Mondays”
Here we have the opportunity to showcase some of the best fan made RuneScape videos on our Facebook page each week, not only to share some of our most talented players creations, but also as a very deserved thank you and appreciation from our whole team. We hope players will enjoy this initiative and maybe even suggest other videos they believe should be shared on our Facebook comments!
We also continue to provide exclusive teasers and hints via the @OfficialJagex Twitter account, and you can see the latest official videos on YouTube.com/RuneScape . Check us out using the buttons below!
Mod Keildest
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