Saturday, August 3, 2013

WSWM13: B03

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Welcome back. Or, well, I assume you're back, or you wouldn't be reading this, and see that I'm welcoming you. I'd be welcoming someone else instead. Unless I'm not welcoming you back because this is your first time here, so it's just a plain old welcome, in which case, go back and start from the beginning, and when you return, then it will be a true welcome back. Don't worry, it won't take too long; I'm not one of those god-aweful heroes who likes to hear himself talk.

Like I said yesterday, I'm not going to tell you what happened yesterday, because our session yesterday was spent regaling you about what happened the day before. Instead, I'm going to finish telling you what I was telling you yesterday, the part I left out.

I went to work.

Now what kind of work does Satis the Good Enough get? It's not like I'm good enough to sell myself out for mercenary work, or even built like someone who could; or assassination, either the doing or the being done (honestly, who would pay someone to assassinate me?). No, I do something that needs being done, that not many are willing to do.

I'm the local garbageman.

I really don't mind the work. Plenty of folks throw away low level items that aren't worth the time to sell or auction off. It's far easier just to drop them, to leave space in your inventory to pick up something more valuable.

Well, I've got the time, the patience, and one thing that nobody tells you until you've applied for the job (really, nobody applies for this job; you can get paid better being cannon fodder): extra storage and stackable weapons. Now I can't say that holds true for all servers, but here, it does.

No, I'm not going to tell you where here is, otherwise my job security just goes out the window. I may not be exceptional, but I'm certainly not stupid.

So besides my small paycheck of... well, suffice to say it's small, and I'm not on the dole like a spendthrift noob--I get to keep the payout of what I find. Not the actual items themselves--that's in the contract--but the payout. If they let me keep the items themselves, I suspect they think I'd just be moving the mess from one place to another.

Nobody wants a landfill cluttering up the city, and where do you think they'd put it anyway? They'd tear down the forest whre my hovel resides, that's where! I'd rather be surrounded by nature and too cold or too hot than perfectly comfortable and surrounded by refuse.

So I went to work, then passed by the auction houses on my way to clock out, swung by the bank on my way home, and as the daytime players started to come awake, I was having supper and then tucking myself into bed.

It's not a bad life.

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