Narration: Cricket kicks her feet up on her desk and leans back in her chair, holding her arms behind her head. A small stack of flyers sits gathering dust in the corner. Tick, tock. Another dead day. Not a single soul had walked in. Not a single request. How is that even possible in a city like Sharn? Is her location really that bad? It's a nice warehouse, really. Lots of character! ...A lot of cobwebs and broken furniture too, but that's only temporary. The real issue is that nobody wants to come all the way out the docks, much less work with a no-name guild. And after she spent all that money on a sign...
...urrrRGGHH! Cricket throws back her head and lets out a dramatic groan. If this carried on she'd have no choice but to close her doors. Her dream would be over before it had even started! Aren't adventurers a dime a dozen in this place? Surely somebody, anywhere, needs their help with something. Right?
Cricket
There's a sudden knock at the door, and Cricket almost falls out of her chair. Visitor. A visitor? A customer?!!
Cricket
Founding owner (and sole employee) of the Triple A Adventuring Agency - and professional fuck-up that just can't catch a break in life.
Selfies
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