The Problem With NPC’s……

This is open letter to the citizens of (insert generic place-name)

Let me first say just how privileged I feel in becoming your messiah. It’s always an honour to be considered for such prestigious invitations. As you know I have successfully preserved the lives of countless innocents from many malignant evils. I unified two potentially warring continents in Sylverant and Tethealla. I prevented the invasion of Tamriel from literal Oblivion. I formed my own organised criminal syndicate in Vice City, San Andreas and Liberty City, under various identities of course. I’ve slain numerable dragons, saved many damsels in various degrees of distress. I deterred an evil king who sought to plunge Hyrule into eternal darkness, a mild skirmish for someone of my repute. I’ve even ascended through bastions and forts replete in lava under the false guidance that an incarcerated princess resided there, only to discover she’s in another castle?! Boy was my face red. As was as my hat. I’ve also been cited as the potential suspect in a slew of adventurers taking arrows to the knees, though I don’t indulge in idle conjectures. Now I’m writing simply to assure you that my asserted esteem has been verified by some very reliable referrers and that I can once again endeavour to replicate similar results in your designated province. But I’ll also require your compliance.

I refer you to my legally binding contract, specifically article 12 paragraph 5 that states that “under no circumstances should hero/heroine or any travelling companions be stopped to perform menial trivialities that defers him/her from their prime directive, without the expressed consent from his employers (namely an omnipotent being that has no form of communication with domesticated civilisation).” These regulations originated from the persistent enquiries into my availability, when my eternal vigilance in protecting their jeopardized world was constantly being interrupted. I found myself contributing to some of the most elaborate, most fiendishly convoluted circumstances, that I really have to wonder if these quests aren’t merely an assortment of planned orchestrations manipulated to test my resolve and patience. You wouldn’t ask a serving soldier to assist you in hanging out your washing, or advise a nurse to cease assisting an elderly paraplegic to sip a drink of water, and instead aid you in finding your misplaced jewellery?! My assets are tied up in other revenues, ideologies that should warrant commendations for my selfless exploits from my would be benefactors! I’m not conditioned for compassion, and this circulated rheumatism or some other neglected malady that circulates through the realms like a cancer is a distraction I can ill afford. Did I receive  an omitted candidacy to be your personal chaperone? To comply with your every whim? I am not a vagrant slave, travelling from place to place merely to suite your baffling needs!

“Stop pecking me. I’m trying to help you! Colonel Sanders, help!”

Clearly there’s an inured reliance on governmental citations. When governed by a constituency devoid of compassion I can amiably understand your frustrations. But I’ve been assigned a very specific role, one that neither entails nor compels me to help you find your escaped chickens. What would they have done if not for my gracious hospitality? Can you people not take care of yourselves? Escorting you from one safe locality to another via aggressive junctures whereby I’ll be forced to protect you, or more commonly your livestock?! To hell with this, I’m the saviour of the world! The anointed one. I didn’t escape incarceration/rise from the dead/leave the safety of my horticulture farm to become employed by “Parcel Force!” You have to realise that without my intervention this world will collapse at the behest of doom, yet I’m instead performing errands for an NPC with the brain capacity of spilt custard. I can’t be dealing with negligent residents who have misplaced their necklace or other trinkets, conveniently located in the bowels of some acrid tomb or cavern. You should be helping me. Providing provisions and necessary amenities for my journey to you know, save the world from imminent destruction?! I don’t have time to circumnavigate your house, to inspect the muddy indentation of some surreptitious intruder. That’s what the guards and police are for. I’m here to aid you in a more general capacity, not simply a municipal confident sought to eradicate some rodent infestation.

Now I understand that you have your business to run, families to feed and a predestined route you fill complied to walk for the rest of your lives but I’m openly attempting to pacify the immediate threat denoted from the very lamentable state of affairs that afflicts your world(s). Charging me extortionate prices means for necessary equipment only provides our enemies with ample time to successfully eliminate your useless behinds…..which is worth saving of course. You should be helping me. I kinda need to concentrate my efforts on preserving humanity as a unit. I already have a raft of obstacles to negotiate, surplus inventory that is in steady declination and the reduced authoritative presence to intercede with minor demeanour’s. Having shopkeepers charging me extortionate prices means I’m forced to regulate my feeble accumulated wealth on products that are hardly sustainable, especially in this economy. Reduce your prices guys, or at least provide certain concessions to aid me in saving your worthless hides! Sorry, sorry. I maybe the prophesied one that will lead you to freedom and prosperity from your accursed pursuers, but I’m not Jesus. Also I’m aware that JC’s parents were denied room and board at a number of hotels, but that doesn’t mean you should charge me progressively more expenses as I travel. These singular circumstances require specifically singular actions, actions that can’t be compromised for lapses in motivated coordination’s. Also, if you do encounter me in one of your daily constitutions around the same basket of fruit, do not under any circumstances feel compelled to simply stroll right into me and then blame me for walking into you. Step aside peasant!

I fully appreciate your compliance in this matter and hope to resolve the threat soon.

Kind regards, your saviour. P.S- Money or other useful gratuitous would be preferable to your generous appreciation.