Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Menethil Harbor, Level 26

Dear Fremal Doohickey,

I love your village and the salty sea air. I was just speaking with the town drunk, Harlo Barnaby, and he asked me to do him a small favor. (I don’t mind speaking with the drunks once in a while. A little stinky, but fun!) Turns out he’s not the town drunk at all… the man took an axe to the back! I mean a real axe, right to the center of his back! Were you aware of this?! (This may explain why he hasn’t moved much lately.)

He motioned for me to come speak with him. (breath smelled “off”, but not drunk.) He’s been lying there for quite some time. I mean, I’ve been doing favors and running errands for various townsfolk for a few days now, and the whole time he’s just been sprawled out near the town gates. (Almost tripped over him four times, but didn’t. Once it was more of a wobble than a trip.)

As the town physician, I thought you might want to tend to his wound, or perhaps send someone to offer him some refreshing spring water or a flagon of mead. (not a drunk) A linen bandage might do the trick. (Can’t miss him! Slight odor, no alcohol on him though.)

I’m going to do a quick task for him, but thought someone should know that this man is not a drunk! (Possibly a mild narcotic dependency.)

I appreciate your attention to this matter.
R. Pebblebottom

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