This will be the second part in a nine part series where I get to interview characters of the various alignments in Dungeons and Dragons and Pathfinder.
This should give insight and illustrate the richness that can be found in each character alignment in an organic way.
To this end, I have chosen out nine NPC’s from campaigns I have written and went across the dimensional borders to speak to these characters face to face in their natural element.
Entering the Tavern known as the Four Points within the town of Coleport along the icy, windswept Northern coast, I find the hearth warm and the atmosphere warmer. Lumberjacks, trappers, miners, and fishermen raise a glass and down a warm meal to stave off the coming winter. Stepping up to the bar, I spot the subject of my interview.
The dark haired, pale skinned, scarred old dwarf finishes pouring a drink for a patron before he fills two mugs.
Nodding his head to the young red headed human girl to take over, the Dwarf hobbles over, leaning hard on his left leg that is held by a brace made of hammered iron and leather. Placing the mugs before us.
The dwarf takes a seat.
Tapping my fingers nervously on the table as the silence is felt like a third presence : “So you got my letter?”
The Dwarf sucks his bottom teeth as he crosses his arms. Fat seconds walking by as he delays responding, “Aye.”
Letting out my breath as I am visibly deflated, “I am glad you agreed to this interview.”
The Dwarf smirks and raises a scarred eyebrow, grabbing his mug and answering before he begins to drink, “Aye.”
Nervously, I take a drink as the dwarf does. The ale tasting faintly of cinnamon, I can tell it is strong. Locking eyes with the Dwarf as I drink, I continue to drink for as long as he does only to realize we had drained our glasses. He wipes his beard and smiles.
I state as I pull out my writing utensils and begin recording with the tape in my pocket, smiling at the advantage of coming from the modern world, “Guess we should get started. Greetings and salutations readers. I have here with me the dwarf known by many as the Keeper of the Pass, Duraim Foecleave.
His ability in battle aside, Duraim’s aptitude to do the right thing is an exemplary case for a neutral good alignment character. “
The dwarf waves his hand and our drinks are refilled, “Aye.”
Uncomfortable with the silence I begin speaking rapidly, “Well my sources say that you are a warrior of some renown, and have been in this town since it’s founding.”
Duraim lifts his glass and waits for me to do the same thing. “Aye.”
Drinking the large mug of ale down again, I put it down and wave for another round. “Yet you have worked with the king you have never worked for the king?”
Watching as the red headed lass fills our drinks, the dwarf blinks purposefully before answering, “Aye.”
Again, the silence stands as stoically as the Dwarf himself as he lifts the glass. I observe his left arm is missing 3 fingers off the end, burned and raking scars mar his arm to the shoulder. The dwarf seems not to care who witnesses his scars, as he nods lightly to me while I ask, “Did… you acquire those during the Demon wars?”
Waiting until we had chugged the round, Duraim answers with another well thought out, “Aye.”
Swimming in my skin, I feel that going drink for drink with a dwarf may not have been my wisest choice. Duraim orders another round as I shake my head to try to hold on.
“Alright, well you have been incredibly silent. Is there a reason you have not said anything?” I say as I pick up my drink.
“Aye.” Was the only reply I get before we down the next round of our maul sized glasses full of dwarven ale.
Swerving in my seat, I ask as drunk as I am frustrated, “What, what is the reason you don’t answer?!”
The dwarf stands and slams another full mug down in front of me. His teeth set and his scarred brow furrowed as he gets me to drink the next round with him. Our stare down ended by the inevitable result of a drinking contest between a human and a mountain dwarf.
My head hits the table and snores escape me while Duraim gently takes my pen and paper. Writing down an answer, so that I might have it to remind me of this night and many more.
“I don’t answer because my history, my scars, and all that I have been through has nothing to do with what it means to be good. To be good is not being nice, it is not being pleasant, it is being what is needed when it is necessary for the well being of all. The rest is up to you. Follow a king, or don’t, it is completely up to you.
When demons invaded, I did not stand on that hill and hew foul spawn after foul spawn, because people were going to thank me or because my king said to do so. I shed 3 fingers, part of my leg, an eye, and more friends then I care to remember because it was necessary to hold the horde at the pass so that the town could be evacuated.
Because it is the right thing to do, and no other reason than that. You work, you live, you love, because that is what you must do. When a problem comes along, you face it. It is not seeking fame, nor fortune. A knight who knows no fear, because his magic armor and plethora of healers will see him to the next sunrise is not one who is courageous.
No, it is the bartender who heard a little carrot topped girl call out in fear, stood on a hill, and fought without regard for anything, but the well being of others that is courageous. That man, even if he is a dwarf, might hold his head up proudly among any he might meet.”
Murmuring and drooling on myself in drunken sleep, “nnommynmm… I’mmm Nubz…”
The dwarf takes my coat from my chair and drapes it on my back, “Yes yes, You are. Now sleep well, go home, and give that wife of yours a kiss, make your little girl laugh, and do what is right so that you might hold your head up high too. Sleep well kid.”
Smiling in my slumber, “Role with it…”