To the nobles of Varrock, they are a nuisance. A "training exercise" for new recruits of the Imperial Guard. "Go down the manhole near the champion’s guild," they say. "Kill twenty. Bring back their mossy bones." They treat the giants like a renewable resource.
They don’t roam the trade roads. Not yet. But every spring, when the fog rolls off the River Lum and clings to the cobblestones of Varrock’s southeast district, the guards speak in hushed tones about the thrum . moss giants varrock
It’s a low, seismic pulse. Not an earthquake—the Dwarven excavators know those well. No, this is a heartbeat. Old. Slow. Patient. To the nobles of Varrock, they are a nuisance
They go down there because if you listen closely—between the drips of filthy water and the squeak of rats—you can hear the giants humming. A deep, earthy chord. "Kill twenty
And if you listen even closer, you can hear Varrock humming back.
The wise adventurer doesn't go down there for the 25,000 gold pieces or the rune helm.