Times are tough. There, I said it, just like the time before and the time before that one, so you can quit bothering me. If you ask me that question one more time… Finally, he’s gone. I’m sorry, where was I? Ah, yes…

My name is Chaya. You can just ignore that name placard that says otherwise. Just as soon as those adventurers are out of town, I can put this back in my closet and go about my business. My mother named me after my great aunt, and I’m not about to disrespect her memory just because someone thought my name was too hard to pronounce. It seems that the powers that be think it’s amusing to change our names at will. Well, I’ve had it!

It’s clear that those adventurers don’t think very highly of the Rest of Us. Oh, sure, they have their excuses. If they’re not saving the world or tackling some evil overlord, they’re rescuing the princess or trying to find ancient artifacts that will be the undoing of someone (or something) else. Sure, we believe you! Seriously, have you ever heard of the phrase “tilting at windmills?” It’s not like a “party” of adventurers is likely to accomplish a thing anyway, except make a mess and expect us honest folk to clean up afterward.

That leads me to another point. Since when are adventurers above the law? The last group that came through cleaned us out. They stole all my clothes and my father’s rusty old sword. I really liked those shoes! Father says we have to keep quiet and carry on like we don’t know what they’re really up to. Of course, he also owns a magic item shop on Main Street, so I think you and I both know who he’s really pulling for. I'd settle for a set of locks and a shotgun. That'll teach 'em.

You want to know the absolute worst part? A lot of the kids around here actually idolize these adventurers. No one has the heart to tell them that the only way to become an adventurer is to be born at the right time to the right people. Boys and girls with happy, well-adjusted childhoods need not apply. Sure, if you work hard enough, you can join a party, but you don’t get a cut of the profit, and it’s made quite clear that you are strictly temp help. If another adventurer wants to join, you’re the first to go.

Oh great, there’s another one of ‘em that just came in. You can always tell by the ridiculous clothing they wear and the massively oversized weapons they carry. After wiping out most of the local wildlife around here, they stop by to stock up on potions and healing herbs and brag about how they defeated all kinds of monsters, ghosts, and man-eating bunny rabbits. If there were really man-eating rabbits out there waiting to prey on unwary travelers, don’t you think someone would have noticed by now?

Now, for most of them, their idea of an intelligent conversation is to ask me the same question over and over again, as if they can trick me into giving a different answer. And if they aren’t asking you pointless questions you can’t possibly know the answer to, they’re unloading all their angst. I’m not your freaking doormat! My mother died when I was a kid too, but I didn’t feel compelled to run away from home to wage a one person war against some evil spirit that lurks in the forest. Adventurers: who needs ‘em?