The Tyrant

King Lathas looked out of his palace windows, the landscape was that of a bustling city on the right, and a plague pit on the left. Lathas' servant entered. His name was Harmon Reeves, and he wore a crimson coloured outfit which signified wealth, while Lathas was wearing a brighter shade of red for his tunic and on his head was a spectacularly gold crown.

"Harmon! Here now!" Lathas exclaimed.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Harmon asked.

"Ah, I like it when you use Your Majesty, I like it so very much! Look! Look out there!"

Lathas grabbed Harmon and dragged him towards the open window.

"Look at the landscape. All of it, soon it will be mine," Lathas grinned.

"Yes Your Majesty, it will," Harmon answered.

"Damn right it will! Now has Varrock sent its messenger?"

"Yes, yes. They said the prices in the Grand Exchange have gone incredibly low, it would appear the teleport system has collapsed somehow."

"That is good, and how about their other trade methods?"

"Well travelling trade is down a further 30% as of this week, and the trade within shops is decreasing by a further 49%. Sources also say that the general store made just around 2000 coins last week, the worst profits since the supposed attack from Morytania, when everyone fled."

"Ah yes, I remember that. Something about werewolves crossing the border, they never found out if any of it was true did they?"

"No, Your Majesty. Oh yes, and the Socialist Army request a meeting with you once again. They say it's urgent."

"That's the fifth time this week they've come in poking about, if they carry on they might uncover something! I guess I should let them speak, besides, I might be able to pull a bit more money from this group, I've never met them before."