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The saga of Bob the unemployed Avalonian plumber continues... Bob stood ankle deep in water and looked at the ruined fountain, thinking about how he had gotten to this point. After he lost his job in Albion, he had gone from job to job, most recently fixing some ancient statue fountain in a cave in the middle of the woods. Having burned through his money from that job (mostly on beer), he had heard that there was work fixing up a rich guy's house across the sea in Vuhlaer.. Vayeiley... the place that sounded like it came from the Game of Thrones show that he had never gotten to finish after being stranded in this bizarre world. He'd puked his guts out on the boat ride over from Avalonia, but was happy when he had seen that this place seemed to have more modern conveniences. Of course, then all hell had broken loose and he found out these people were insane, murdering each other at the drop of a hat. Those weird plants and monsters in Nocturnus had been less scary than this! He made up his mind to try and get back to Avalonia, where it was a little more backward but he was less likely to be murdered in his sleep. A guard yelled at him, breaking him out of his reverie. He didn't understand the language, but he had been in his line of work long enough to have heard it many times before and knew what it meant: "Back to work, we're not paying you to be lazy!" He nodded and set back to work fixing the fountain. At least this place didn't smell like bear poop.
The saga of Bob the unemployed Avalonian plumber continues.... "I've gotta get out of these one-off contract jobs," Bob thought to himself as he worked on the broken water feature in the subterranean cavern. The smell of the bear poop was overpowering, and, mixed with the dead bodies that were being carted off, was enough to make him wish he hadn't hit the bottle so hard the previous night. "I'll quit drinking tomorrow," he muttered to himself as he continued work.
Grover posted a topic in Guilds of HistoricaAs usual, Bob shows up a day late and a dollar short. One fine Sunday afternoon, while Bob sat around his apartment in Albion in his underwear, drinking cheap domestic beer, and trying to fix his toilet, he heard the town crier announce that the royal court would entertain claimants to the throne. Bob thought to himself: "F&$% it! I'll try and be king!" before promptly passing out drunk on his bathroom floor in front of the only throne he'd ever sit on.