Greetings to you, mistakes of the gods. I am here now to set your minds at ease. Do not fear, do not fret, Ulesorin has arrived and shall grant each and every one of you a steaming dollop of my indelible wisdom. You lucky, lucky creatures.

It has been a long moon turn, and I can tell you that it has been difficult. I have had to mourn the loss of a great many serpentine children, and a substantial draconic lover. Though the latter was trying to murder me. Moreover, it has been absolute murder finding some minions to carry all the gold I’d pillaged from her corpse back to civilisation where I could spend it.

Needless to say, I have a new tower under construction in a rather lovely town on a lake. The dungeon foundations beneath that tower are staffed currently by goblins of indeterminate origin until such time as something better can be bred, but I have high hopes for the future.

Regardless, despite my current state of semi-homelessness, I am still offering up my services to you. Tell me your woes, and I shall apply a balm of intelligence.

***

Dear Ulesorin,

There is an author who in the realms of Twitter land is on a mission to start a Tom Bombadil cult. He calls it a fan club but don’t let him fool you, it is most definitely a cult.

Now this Tom Bombadil may be a merry old fellow, but any sane person knows he’s actually annoying as fuck, with his singing of silly songs and nonsensical rhyming. How any sane person can want to give Bombadil even an ounce of praise is beyond me and to try to start a cult would be folly.

So my question is how do I make this author see the error of his ways?

***

I am somewhat familiar with cults of personality centred around buffoons. My own loyal compatriots throughout the years have been incredibly kind and helpful when I requested their aid in dealing with those cults. 

Oh my dear companions, warriors, knights, rogues and royalty alike, all of them followed me gladly to their victories or deaths, all of them quite certain in the rightness of my cause and the good counsel that I provided to them. Why I would swear that any one of them would have quite readily have flung themselves onto their own swords if I had asked. Not even because I was so wise, but because they simply bore so much love for me. It was a true delight.

Forgive an old man for his digressions, it has been so long since I’ve had anything but kobolds and serpent-men for company. Creatures of dubious loyalty even when all is going well.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Cults built around bumbling idiots who believe themselves to be wonderful and powerful. There is little point in attempting to convince your companion that they are being sold proverbial snake oil. Direct confrontation will simply make them double down upon on their deranged convictions. Worse yet, it might draw the attention of the leader of their cult, and then you might be on the receiving end of a swift fireball for interfering in his social circles.

The solution is as elegant as it is simple. Learn the routine of this Thomas Explosive-Herb, discover when he is alone with no minions to protect him, and then inflict some swift cross-bow justice.

With the cult dissolved, your friend shall return to you, just as my own boon companions parted ways when they believed that I had died to the fire-goat during my jewellery related quest.

Failing that, simply direct your simple minded friend towards another magnetic personality and allow their own witlessness to lead them away from your foe. As a matter of fact, I could really use a butler for my new tower, so kindly tell him to get in touch. I shall talk him through his cult deprogramming. Tell him to bring all of his worldly possessions with him to pay me for my trouble. And a butler’s costume.

***

Having relationship issues? Need career advice? You name it, our ‘Agony Ant’ can help!* Email your problems to thefantasyhive@gmail.com with the subject ‘Ask the Wizard’, or leave a comment below.

*Disclaimer: All answers are provided for entertainment purposes only. It may not be in your best interests to follow advice provided by a 1794-year-old man who firmly believes that arson is the best medicine.