Cricket

Cricket kicks his feet up on his desk and leans back in his chair, holding his arms behind his head. A small stack of flyers sits in the corner collecting dust. Another dead day. Not a soul had come in. Not a single request. How is that even possible in a town like Sharn? Is its location really that bad? It's a nice warehouse, actually. Lots of character!... Lots of cobwebs and broken furniture too, but that's only temporary. The real problem is that no one wants to come down to the docks, much less work with a no-name guild. And after she spent all that money on a sign... urrrRGGHH! Cricket throws his head back and makes a dramatic groan. If this continued, he would have no choice but to close his doors. His dream would be over before it had even begun! Aren’t adventurers a dime a dozen in this place? Surely someone, somewhere, needs his help.