Day Thirty-Eight: A bad attitude with pointy ears

“This place smells like foulfungus.”

That was the first thing the goblin ambassador said when he reached the barbican today, diary. Not the best start.

His name is Grylock. He’s surly, demanding, and likes to drink a lot. He also forced me to carry him around on my shoulders all day, which I didn’t appreciate. But what could I do? He’s the ambassador. I’m his tour guide. I have to make him happy, or the captain will stick his foot up my butt. I’d rather than not happen.

Grylock wasn’t interested in touring today, so I showed him to Robert’s Beefiary to get him some grub. Unfortunately he wasn’t that impressed with my brother’s cooking, and he kept pinging yak tarts off my armour. He got really upset when my brother told him that they didn’t cook anything that’s not on the menu, as well. I guess living here is gonna be tough for the little guy.

What do goblins eat, anyway? Bugs? Snails? Dog poo? Great mysteries of life.

But he can drink! Lord help me, can Grylock the Ambassador ever drink. He says our booze is swill, but that didn’t stop him from downing three bottles of wine and several pints of ale. I don’t know where he puts it all. He must pee often.

(I think he actually did pee a few times when I was taking him to his quarters. Kept yanking his pants down and aiming at passers-by. I didn’t ask and nobody complained, though, ‘cause he’s got diplomatic immunity or something. And what do you say to a drunk goblin that’s peeing on your head? I really don’t know.)

There is one good thing about Grylock, though: he’s been stationed with the nobles, and that means I have an excuse to wander the nobles' wing and see Eve. She may be some kinda monster, but she’s still my baby, right? So it’s only fair that I get to visit her now and then. It’s only fair. Didn’t catch her today, ‘cause I think she was being fitted for armour, but maybe tomorrow.

Grylock was snoring by the time I got him back to his quarters, so I tossed him in bed and came to the rat farms. You wouldn’t believe how many sneezing and coughing and vomiting people I saw on the way here! There’s a real health problem in this castle, I’m telling you. Probably a lack of nutrition. Maybe Robert should sneak vitamins into his tarts.

Enough writing for one day. I'm tired, and my shoulders smell like urine. Never thought I'd write THAT down. Eugh.

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Guard