0001 - Tools for a Mediocre Life

Fandom - The Lord of The Rings

Title - Tales of a Nightwatchman

Upon my arrival to the village of Bree, I had been flushed with excitement. Leaving my family's farm near the village of Archet, I was overjoyed to become a part of the watch in the "Big Village" of Bree. At the time, this was a rather joyous achievement for a sixth generation farmer's son.

My mother was so proud. She couldn't stop gushing to her friends that "Her son was gonna be a watchman of Bree and protect us from the goblins and monsters".

My father was bursting with joy that his youngest son finally was gonna make something of himself. Thanks Papa...so much.

When I presented myself at the East Gate, carrying nothing but my pack and my father's rusty ol' sword, I had high hopes. The guards at the gate just looked me over with a half grin and pointed to the Bree-Town jail. "Go ask for the Cap'n of the Watch" they said and I heard them laugh when I was through the gate.

The Jail House was huge, its old stones worn with weather and war. The bars on the windows were rusty and the glass was so dirty, you could barely see light from the lamps. When I opened the main door, it creaked and groaned like my Grampa's knees. Cells lined the walls on my left and on my right. In front of me at an old oaken desk sat a grizzled old man, his beard shaggy and resembling a thorny old hedge. His face was lined with scars that resembled roads on a map.

"Mornin sir!" I said, "My name's..." he cut me off short with a wave of his hand.

"You a new recruit?" He asked, his voice sounding like a pail of rocks dumped downhill.

"Yessir" I said, standing straight like I'd practiced.

"Lemme look at ya" he growled. His eyes narrowed as he glanced up and down. After a while, he stood up, unwinding from the chair slowly and gingerly, like an old dog. He crossed to a rack of spears behind him, grabbed one and came out from behind the table. He handed me the spear and waved a hand at me without saying a word. I followed him as he moved towards a closet. He opened it and began rummagng through, pulling out a dirty grey cloak, a tunic so stained, it was hard to tell the original colour. It might have been grey, but I'm not sure. Finally, he handed me a round iron helmet and a lantern that was dirtier than the jail house windows.

"Night Watch" he said shortly.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, confused.

"Yer a night watchman, rookie. Report here at sundown and be ready. Uniform clean, equipment prepared. You'll be watching the South East gate."

"Uh..." was all I could get out before he waved a hand at me to stop.

"New recruits get the night watch. Nothing too exciting till we see what yer made of. If ya do good, you'll move up to day watch. Till then, you guard the gate." He raised a bony finger that was missing its tip and pointed it at my chest. "Two rules: First, when the sun goes down, the gate stays closed unless me or the Chief Night Watchman gives the OK."

"And the Second Rule?" I asked him after a long pause.

"Don't break rule #1" he growled.

"What if I see a Goblin or something? I asked.

"If it attacks the gate, that's why you got a spear, fool! If there's more than one, raise the alarm." He spat on the floor. "Any more questions?"

I shook my head.

"Good. Yer room's on the second floor, last room on the right. Sundown, I want you at the gate ready to go." He turned and walked away without another word.

I almost ran to my room and spent the next few hours polishing that lantern, ccleaning my uniform the best I could and making myself look as much like a soldier as I could. At Sundown, I stoo nervously inside the gatehouse as the day watchman showed me around. A large bell would be the alarm if the gate was attacked. A small stove to cook food and to keep warm. A bucket in the corner was the privy and a small table with candles and two chairs was it.

He turned and walked away, leaving me there. After the first hour, I was still excited. After three more, I began to get bored. I walked, I paced, anything to keep sleep and boredom away. Nothing moved in the dark outside. Not even a rat. At about the halfway point of my watch, I made some gruel on the stove. It was horrible and tasted like burnt droppings.

The sun began to climb when my relief showed. He smelled like ale and didn;t even look at me. He pointed at the bucket and said "Empty it" without a glance. I dumped my waste and laid the bucket down and left the gatehouse. I retired to the jail house and met the captain at his desk.

"Report Rookie" he grumbled.

"Uh...nothing to report sir" I stammered, exhausted.

"Okay then, off to sleep and back to the gate at sundown. Till then, your time's your own." He sat without another word. I saluted and returned to my tiny room and after blocking the window with my cloak, plunging the room into darkness, fell asleep.

When I woke, it was just after midday. I grabbed some bread from the kitchens in the jail house and wandered Bree. It wasn't what I expected, but I was happy to see the Prancing Pony again. I stopped for an ale and watched the crowd. I saw Dwarves, Hobbits and other travellers. No Elves though.

My second night of gate watch was not unlike the first.

After a week, nothing changed, I was still on the night watch. It's been two years now and I'm still here, glaring at the darkness.

So as I write this journal I started a few months ago, here's my advice to anyof you who ever read this that wanna be a watchman.

Stay on the farm, or in the fields or wherever you come from. But, if you like boredom, here are the tools for a mediocre life.

  1. Be a nightwatchman.
  2. Have hope that one day you'll be a daywatchman.

Gotta go, sounds like some drunken fool wants in.