So, you're a hero who's a fair way through your quest. You've slain fire-breathing dragons, or assassinated mob bosses, or torn apart an army base filled with hostile aliens. You've cut a swath through the land, slaughtering anything or anyone who gets in your way and spit in the face of impossible odds. You're well on your way to finishing the job, when you need a favor. Anybody who knows who you are should be too grateful or too scared to turn you down, right? Wrong! "Go clean out my stables." "Go throw around some Cuccoos." "Go collect some apples from my garden."