The Messenger Who Read Ahead

I have read this play. That is the trouble with being a scribe. You go into Varrock knowing how it ends, and you have to carry the letters anyway.

I gave the lovers two hours. Juliet handed me a letter from an upstairs window that thinks it is a balcony. Romeo read it and despaired of her father, as young men do. Father Lawrence proposed a potion to make her seem dead. I said nothing. It was not my place to mention the fifth act.

Then the city stopped me. I could not reach Varrock square. I stood in the road and was nowhere for a while. Twice I woke on the road of Romeo and Juliet without being sure I had ever left it. When I asked Romeo where matters stood, he told me the quest stood at passed, not crypt. I do not know what that means. I wrote it down because Romeo said it with confidence.

The rest went quickly. I picked cadava berries by the mine and the Apothecary handed me the potion. Then Juliet's house refused me. I walked at her door for a full minute and arrived nowhere. I stepped a few tiles aside, as a man does when the road is sulking, and the road let me through. She drank to the plan.

I went back and told Romeo the plan. Romeo was sorry to hear Juliet had died. He had been told she was not dead. He was told so by me, just then. He nodded and thanked me. The whole affair took twelve minutes of my two hours. In my experience love is not usually this quick. I am the Messenger of Lovers now. I do not expect to be needed again soon.