It was a quiet night in the realm, not that anyone could really tell if it actually was day or not since the sky over RuneScape always wore black. The drunks at the Rusty Anchor Pub sat weary in their stools, only putting focus in not falling off. Their days, as it would be dubbed regardless of the sun's presence, had each been filled with adventure, but it was all nothing that any given one of them had not heard before. Any war story or marvelous tale was lived before by any of these weathered veterans, and sometimes twice. Armor of the gods which glistened like new despite the myriad of chinks and tarnishes they bore from ages of battle hung on their still bodies, eager for action once more. Weapons and shields that once took honor in slaying great dragons now leaned carelessly against the perches of their intoxicated owners, unattended and unnoticed. Drowning themselves in ale, none even bothered to see who had just passed through the tavern door.
Three knocks fell on the wooden floor in a repeating series. The off-beat pattern eventually roused one of the patron's curiosity and earned a quick glance. Lowering his head back down, the man jumped from his stool once his clouded thoughts finally processed what they had seen. Leaving his place with a surprising amount of alertness, given his intake, he relocated to the opposite side of the bar. His neighbors were far less inquisitive, barely noticing the fellow betwixt them parting and certainly not caring why. The triad of thuds continued approaching the bar. In the void left by the fleeing one, a regal colored, worn glove, bearing a brilliantly dazzling diamond ring in contrast to its surroundings, deposited a small stack of coins, marred with mud and blood. The two men were frozen, not daring to breath as the barkeep pulled up half a dozen mugs. Sweeping them up in one arm, the figure turned and exited, knocking his staff on the planks as he departed. After hearing the doors swing close and the three part gait no more, the two men sighed with great relief.
"Ay, what is your problem, fellows?" a man next to one of the relieved questioned, pondering their reaction. The color in their faces was returning, but they were still too scared to answer. Looking back over his shoulder, the further man wanted to be sure the individual had, in fact, parted. Turning his eyes back to the inquirer, he gave no verbal response. With a very slight gesture of his hand, he rose each of his digits straight up, all but the last, the little finger. Having gotten his answer, the man, too, became shaken, as did any other who peeked in at what they were discussing. The man who had just left their presence was none other than the Four Finger Fiend, Bimblesnaff Greenborne.
What follows is a collection of adventures and mishaps had by the character based upon my character in RuneScape, "Bimblesnaff". What you will not find are verbatim accounts of common quests and such from the game. As said in the prologue, that's been done. These are tales based on RuneScape, not tales that exist on RuneScape, which, really, isn't that the point of fanatic works such as these?
Shortly after starting to play RuneScape, just over a year ago, I developed a unique and compelling story behind my character to make him not just another random face in the crowd. This personality eventually grew into a very intriguing and original character, which slightly varied from my in game activities. The character is quite known and feared while, as a player, I am unknown and quite kind, usually performing services for others out of good will. And, I do not mean, "Sure, I'll cut those gems for you free of charge," I mean, "Why just cut? I'll turn them into enchanted amulets! ... for free!" However, his roots are still remembered, and I do not tread far from them.
Ode to Bimblesnaff
His teeth are dull, his eyes are small. His ears are stout, his nose is tall.
He may stand out from his kin, Standing straight with pasty skin.
He may bleed red but his heart is green, Like no other goblin e'er seen.
What humans cast aside, Two goblins did decide,
To raise him as their own, And eat him once he had grown.
Shortly, they came to see, The greatness within he,
To be the enemy, Of his own humanity.
His figure gaunt, His laugh shall haunt.
He lusts for gold, As legends told.
Human born, He was forlorn.
But goblins cared, His life was spared.
The greatest their race shall e'er know, To the realms of Runescape he shall go.
Brandishing bow and mystic staff, Came the scourge known as Bimblesnaff.
Anatomy of Greenborne
For visual reference, head to toe.
Bimblesnaff is a gaunt male, standing tall and quite thin. In conjunction with his complexion, he could be mistaken for a corpse. His hair is a ruddy shade of orange, and greasy lochs hangs from his scalp to his shoulders unstyled in all direction. His beady, violet eyes are overshadowed by his heavy brows, nearly always lowered in anger or brooding. His nose stands tall over his long face, jutting out only shortly to a sharp point. His mouth is near lipless and is either devoid of emotion or smiling fiendishly, flashing his off-white teeth. A pointed goatee whisks off his slightly jutting chin. He never extends to his full height, tending to slump and stoop whether standing or walking.
A plain, white, linen shirt adorns his body, covered by an open, brown trimmed, green jacket tied off about the waist with a simple belt. Latched to this is a pouch of seemingly infinite space. The collar is never folded down and is typically neighbor to a tattered, purple cape. Also looped around his neck is a holy symbol, the Silver Star. The cuffs at the end of the sleeves open wider than necessary, hanging loosely off his wrists. Purple, four fingered gloves cover his hands and all his visible forearm. His pants are simple and plain purple cloth that loosely fits to his legs, flaring at the feet, which are covered in a pair of sturdy, leather boots.