June 6th, Year 7 - Bobbers

The first order of business upon arriving in Hommlett was to find a good valet. I am not a shrewd businessman, and interaction with the masses appeals to me not. But, I now have other skills to compensate for my interpersonal shortcomings.

At the local tavern, I found a likely “candidate.” He was the very picture of hard-luck drunk: handsome but disheveled, and his attire was tailored yet grungy. Here was a man who used to be decently successful but has descended into the self-pitying madness of full-time boozer. I sat down next to him, politely clutching his forearm, and I muttered a few words. The initial alarm of being confronted by this well-armed and mean-eyed elf was replaced with a smile of absolute familiarity and trust. I asked him, “How have you faired since we last spoke, friend?”

He thought hard, agonizing to recall a meeting that never happened. Finally, I saw his brow unfurrow as he gave up and simply told me of his current state of affairs.
“My wife ran off with the cook. Then I started drinking more. Then I lost my job. That was last month. This month, I’m just drinking more.”
“And what did you do for a living?”
“I was a caretaker for lord G___.”

He’s Perfect.

“Well, friend, fear not! Now you work for me! Come to the tower at dawn. Get a good night’s rest: you are going to be busy. Just ask for your good buddy Fjord.”
“I will milord! I will!”
“I think I’ll call you Bobbers. It’s a nice name for my new doorman, don’t you think?”
“Oh, it’s perfect, milord. My last employer called me “Lumber Monkey!”
“Well Bobbers, I’ll certainly treat you with more respect that that, I can promise you. But you’ll have to promise me something in return.”
“Whatever you ask, milord! I am yours to command.”
“Promise me that you’ll lay off the booze. For good.”
His exuberance caught me slightly off guard as he leapt to his feet and declared for all to hear, “Math have mercy! I’m a wino no more!” And he staggered out the front door, laughing maniacally.

The bartender merely shook his head. “Third time this week he’s done that.”
I wonder if I should tell Faust that he’s charmed … I’m sure he’ll figure it out soon enough. Such a clever little gnome.