The end of living care-free in Albion

In a way, I blame this all on my dog. If he hadn’t found that treasure chest with the ring in it, none of this would ever have happened.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Things were going swimmingly in my new-found career as adventurer/wood chopper. I’d met up with the Abott that my mentor had sent me to, and while he wasn’t immediately trusting of me, it was clear that with not very much work the denizens of this sleepy hamlet would be eating out of my hand, and the Abott would judge me worthy of whatever hare-brained quest he had in mind.

But then I went down the Pub. You know how it goes. You have a few drinks, the bard sings a few songs about your exploits, you start dancing with the local girls and *of course* a few of them are going to fall for you.

I played it cool and all, but then she hit on me. Hard to have a tumble when you don’t have any digs to have it in though. Good thing I was flush with cash, cuz her cleavage was t3h hawt. I could buy a house but didn’t want the hottie to wander off while I got that sorted out, so what the hell, I proposed. After that she was happy to follow me around.

And then the damned dog found the treasure chest with the ring and I was out of excuses. Next thing I knew, I was married. Together we bought a house, and I wasted no time showing her to the bedroom. It was a night of unbridled passion, but I was barely done with breakfast the next morning when she announced she was pregnant!!!

So here I am, a young lad, full of potential, and saddled with a wife and kid. Now instead of spending my nights down the pub playing SpinBox and listening to the bard sing songs about me, I’m home making funny faces at the kid. And suddenly I have to worry about money. How much of a budget does the wife need to keep the house running and her happy? 25 gold a day? 35? 50? 100? I have no clue! And she’s all going on about how “We can do so much more for little Gemma” (she picked that name..who calls a kid Gemma??) and I have no clue what she’s getting at.

I need a new sword, some flash threads, coin to tip the bards! Instead I’m buying furniture…or will be, if I can somewhere to buy it. And as for that night of passion, you think that was repeated? No sir, no chance of that. Damned village girls all just want to hook themselves a flush adventurer hubbie. Once they get the house and the kid, they totally lose interest in the more interesting aspect of marriage. Harumph!