I hope that your quest to save the world and collect those seven crystals or gems or whatever is going well. Then again I'm not sure how much progress could have been made considering you haven't even left our town yet. You do realize it's been ten days since you set out, right my love? It's not that I want you gone. Quite the opposite. I begged you to stay, to be by my side instead of gallavanting about with that young kid (what is he, like 17?) with the weird hair who's always brandishing his sword and that trashy magic slut with her cleavage on display for all the overworld to see. You convinced me that this was something you had to do, regardless of what it put me through.
What bothers me is that you've chosen to stay down the street at the inn every night doing God-knows-what with those roustabouts, and haven't even visited me once since you set off. One morning I awoke to find that someone had rummaged through the cabinets and our treasure chest and taken all of our Hi-Potions, but you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? A loving husband would have at least left a note and that's what you claim to be, so I suppose it must have been thieving goblins or rats.
Day seven of your quest: Almost powerful enough to step away from the gate outside of town.Maybe you weren't aware of this but during the day I can see you wandering around in circles just outside of town, undoubtedly hoping to encounter those small spiders which always seem to trudge about in groups of three. Shopkeeper, the kindly gentleman who runs the item shop, has been generous enough to buy every item you present to him at a reasonable price, but you've taken unfair advantage of his offer. How useful can spider legs really be, and what's he to do with nearly 300 of them? I can tell you right now that opening a store entirely dedicated to selling spider legs and inviting all the controversy that comes with such an establishment would be disastrous in this idyllic community.
Word around town is that you're killing all of these spiders to gain valuable battle experience so that you won't get completely wiped out in your final confrontation with the big bad guy everyone's been talking about. Perhaps I'm just a simple woman who doesn't understand the complexities of combat, but if you need to spend this much time killing spiders just to become skilled enough to travel to the nearest town without dying, wouldn't it be better for everyone involved if you guys stepped aside and let someone else complete the quest? I must say my confidence in your party is not very substantial after witnessing you and the boy drag that harlot's corpse to the church for resurrection after a particularly grueling battle against two spiders and a cat. Even someone that's only capable of defeating small flightless birds and napping horses would be better suited to this monumental task, I'd imagine.
And what's this I hear about you spending all sorts of money on a new look? Shopkeeper tells me that you sold the axe you've had since childhood in favor of one made of iron, and that you're already thinking of buying the double-edged silver one on display. I've never known you to be so flippant with money! He also mentioned that you traded in the sweater I made you for Christmas in exchange for a wooden breastplate. I understand that you'll need protection on your journey, but was it really necessary to discard the sweater I lovingly crafted just to fit a few more spider legs in your pack?
You're not the same man I fell in love with, Jorn, but I did fall in love with you and held on thinking things could work out. Therefore it is only with a heavy heart that I must break the news to you: I met another man.
Do you remember Townsperson, the guy with the brown hair? Well we got to talking while you were off on your adventure and it turns out he's an incredibly kind and caring man. He walks in a circular pattern around one corner of town for a living, and he does so with a quiet resolve that stirs feelings inside me which I haven't experienced in years. His job may not be glamorous, but men like him are the glue that holds together the very society that you and your dopey friends claim to be saving.
This isn't happening because I'm lonely and he's attractive in a generic sort of way, but because I need stability in my life and he provides that. While you run off with your friends at the drop of a hat and change outfits nearly every day, Townsperson will always be there to reply to everything I say with his stock "Life around here sure was nice before the darkness spread, now I'm afraid to leave town because of those roving bandits!"
I find comfort in that.
Our relationship is over, Jorn. I hate to break it to you in something as impersonal as a letter you'll read on the bow of a ship in the moonlight as an orchestral score plays, but if you've taken this long to leave town who knows when your quest will be complete and how long it will be before we see each other again. For all I know you could turn out to be the standard-issue traitor that turns on the party halfway through their quest, which could complicate things even further. Do you see what I have to prepare myself for with an adventurer as my boyfriend, and why a quiet life with Townsperson is so appealing?
I can't change the locks to our house since locks only work at night for some reason and I can't afford one of those magical seals like the one that keeps people under level 6 from entering the storage room in the mine Southwest of town, but I can call upon whatever decency is left in your heart to forget about me and move on with your life. Hopefully you can find the same happiness I have. Townsperson says he can pull some strings and get me a job working from home, telling people who wander into my kitchen that I used to make the most delicious apple pies before all the trees shriveled and died when that bad guy rose to power. Can you believe it? Me, a career woman!
Good luck with your silly quest,
Sir Mix-a-Lot's classic follow up to "Baby Got Back" has serious unintended consequences.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
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