I love RPGs. Really, I do. Most of my games are RPGs or related to RPGs. The worlds shown in most RPGs are fun, interesting, and usually intriguing enough to make you wish you were there. Even the dangers of the world seem fun to a person like me. However, there is one constant, nagging them which keeps showing up in these RPGs that would make me kill the Inn Keeper without haste:
The Inn Quest
Yes, the Inn Quest…you’ve just battled through a twenty minute level, building some levels, and fighting a boss the size of the Empire State building in order to proceed through a locked door. Why the boss had the key when it was a giant lizard with a steel helmet wielding dual meat cleavers, you’ll never know, but you finally kicked his ass. You’re tired. You’re bleeding, and now it’s night time. The only thing you and your characters want to do is sleep.
Imagine dragging your bruised, battered, and bloody body, while most likely holding up one of your friends because they can’t walk, into the Inn the oly thought on your mind is, “Finally! I can bathe, eat, and rest!” Oh no, not here, not now. Strolling in you see a cat sitting on the reception table. Going up to ring the bell, a tiny head pops up and it’s a small child. You can’t tell if it’s a boy or a girl because of the hair, and then the child speaks.
“Oh, hello!” You still can’t tell if it’s a boy or a girl because of the voice, but whatever, you’re there to sleep. You and your group of friends look at each other and shrug.
“We’re just staying the night. We’re badly hurt and need to rest. One room with four beds is fine or however you want to do it is fine,” you tell the child as politely as your broken body and annoyed attitude will let you.
“I’d be more than happy to let you all stay. Oh, but dear me, I’ve lost my favorite pencil! I let me brother borrow it and he’s no where to be seen. He’s usually the one who takes care of this place. Can you find him for me? It’s really, really important!” the child pleads with you through wide, weepy eyes.
“What?!” you exclaim as you spit blood that has pooled in your mouth from your injuries.
“Yes, I can’t let you stay without my favorite pencil. I can’t bear to think about writing with anything else. My older brother has it. Please go look for him,” the child repeats. This child is actually telling you to find a pencil in order to stay. Not only that, but you’re expected to find the brother in order to do it. A brother who, might I add, you have no idea how he looks. Does he really expect you to ask every single person who lives in this city if he’s the brother of the child who is at the inn?
“No! No you little shit! No! Call the cops! Get a soldier! I’m tired! We’re all tired! I have four thousand dollars I’ll just give to you at this point. That is how over it I am! There is no way I’m looking for your brother! Look at us! Look…at…us! We’re covered in blood, cuts, and body pieces from tearing apart the last monster we faced. Do you know what I had to do to get here? We just fought a fifteen foot lizard who was holding meat cleavers…meat cleavers! THE GOD DAMN THING SPIT ACID AND SUMMONED FIRE! It took us ten minutes to kill it! We barely made it out alive! All I want to do is sleep and rest! My friend’s foot is barely attached for god’s sake! Take the god damn money and I’ll write our names in your log with our blood!”
I can only imagine walking into a Motel 6 and having the clerk tell me, “We have lots of rooms. Oh, but I’ve lost my cat. Can you locate it for me? It’s orange and called ‘Whiskers’. Thanks!”
Posted 1/3/2011 at 11:15 AM