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On ser Bartox Dimdweller, a Goblin

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  • On ser Bartox Dimdweller, a Goblin

    Third Moon, Fifteenth Day, Year Seven of the Recent Awakenings

    On ser Bartox Dimdweller, a Goblin

    To the Denizenry of Her Majesty's Castle Marrach: in accordance to the will of the Lord Chamberlain, and with humble hopes to prove of service to the denizens of Her Majesty's Castle Marrach, I hereby submit the chronicle On Ser Bartox Dimdweller, a Goblin.

    Late at night on Woden's Day, a work party assembled to clean out the overfull furnace room at the end of the refuse chute. Led by ser Fezwin, the denizens were ser Jamison, sera Lylia, sera Theresa, and this chronicler. As the workers began their efforts, they were surprised to meet a new resident.

    Out from the refuse pile crawled a goblin. He is a bony little yellow-green creature with buggy black eyes, thin frizzy white hair, and pointy ears. His arms are scraggly and spindly; his hands are encrusted with warts, and his teeth are cracked and rotten. He is ser Bartox Dimdweller, and he has claimed the furnace room for his home.

    Ser Bartox asserts a degree of ownership over the refuse pile, especially the spoiled or moldy food, which to him is a delectable feast. He also professes a desire to eat goblins, dwarves, and fairies. Unspoiled food is to him quite inedible, and he considers it a poison. Those who carry scrolls and folders should be warned; the goblin desires to eat them as well, thinking them a crunchy snack.

    After cleaning the furnace room, ser Fezwin and his work party invited ser Bartox out to tour the Outer Bailey. As the group passed through the halls, the goblin was the object of great curiosity. Some denizens reacted with expressions of dismay and loathing, while others appeared charmed or intrigued. Having shuffled through hallways and stairwells, ser Bartox was presented with a special treat: two dead spiders, which were speedily and loudly munched.

    On his return to the furnace room, Bartox the goblin demanded that more cleaning be undertaken, declaring that the inedible items took up too much space. "I tricked tha'stupid smelly human o'er there," he bellowed, "Yeh have t'clean!"

    This chronicle will be subject to changes and corrections, as I humbly ask that the readers indicate to me any falsehood I may have mistakenly communicated.
    It is through the preservation of the Past that we continue to serve Her Grace and give strength to those that will follow. In service to Her Majesty Queen Vivienne, the Lord Chamberlain, the Chronicler's Office, and the Denizenry of our Gracious Queen's Realm;

    Jerisa T'arachi, Junior Chronicler