An Exclusive Interview with The Town Guard
by Nevrek Araknathalin

When I first decided to take this particular assignment, I must say I was quite skeptical about what this notoriously careless guard would have to say. I mean, his nickname after all is 'Sleepy', which says quite a bit about how seriously he takes his job. But, I thought to myself, "Hey, it could be interesting," so I set out for the West Gate. Stepping through the massive wooden structure, I saw him.

I saluted the guard, as is my customary greeting to a person, and looked him over. He was a rather common looking fellow in his mid thirties, weathered looking, as if he'd seen much (or at least, slept through much). He was wearing some standard brigandine armor with the insignia of Wehnimer's Landing emblazoned across the breastplate; the typical protection worn by the Landing's rarely seen militia. A dark red armband near his shoulder caught my eye. After some thought, I remembered it as a mark for a regularly paid member of the guard. A few pleasantries were said and put to the side and I began my line of questioning.

Smirking somewhat, I asked a decidedly casual question, testing the waters as it were, in an effort to find the mood of the fellow, and hence the mood of the interview. "Mind if I call you 'Sleepy'?" To this first question, I received no answer. He only stood there, perhaps he ignored the inquiry, or perhaps he dozed off a moment.

I persisted with a new question, hoping to gain a bit more ground than I had, considering I received no answer previously this would not be a task of great difficulty. "Ahem... SO... you guard the Vest Gate of the Landing, and haff done so for years. How did you acquire such a coveted position?" A grin crossed the guard's face, I knew I had found my start. "The mayor chose me for this job out of all of the guard that volunteered," he said, adding quickly, "It's a great opportunity. Besides, I like the scenery out here."

Glancing over the scenery I noted the gate with a wry smile, and poised my next comment, hoping for another morsel of the guard's charming views. "You get to guard this lovely gate. Quite the piece of vork, most impressive. " Beaming with an almost fatherly pride, he leaned against the gate, boasting. "Yes sir, when they made this here gate, they made it to last!" he said, and soon after the words left his mouth the gate shifted on its hinges and the guard toppled over onto the ground.

With a blink and a shrug, I moved onto my next query. "Guarding this gate exposes you to many people. Do you notice anything about those who come and go throughout the days?" He seemed to give himself some time to root through his brain.

After a moment came his emphatic reply, "Most people who come to Wehnimer's are looking to make their fortunes. Thing is, with everyone seeking their fortune in the same place, there's hardly enough of it to go around!"

Chuckling in agreement, I moved on. "You defend this gate all day, yet you carry no magic or spells to aid in this task. How to you manage such a feat?"

The town guard stopped a moment to collect some coins from a group of people and, waving them off, he turned to me and replied, "It's a well known fact that magic makes you stupid. No really! Just look at the people that hang out in the Town Square. Some mage comes along and casts a bunch of magic on everyone, and what's the first thing they do? Run off to try and kill some horrible creature they wouldn't normally touch with a ten foot Shanarian fishin pole!"

I grinned to myself, lost in the thought of what would happen if I commented that the Guard must have been subjected to plenty of magic in his youth. "Rumor has it that you and Kilron, owner of the local Pawn Shop, are good friends, or at least, at one time. I heard lately there vas an argument. Vhat happened to start this feud I am hearing about?"

The guard narrowed his eyes, grumbling out, "Kilron was tryin ta sell me a drake falchion the other day. He wanted twelve thousand silvers! Really now, I don't know where he gets off." I nearly scoffed at the price, but managed to maintain my composure. Twelve thousand really was a lot, and Sleepy has my full support in that issue.

At this point, a rolton made a move toward the gate, but luckily the town guard whacked it on the rump with the flat of his blade, sending it scampering away from him... and more importantly, the gate. "Stupid creatures..." he uttered, seemingly annoyed. His last comment was followed by a mumbled sentence I missed, but most likely was not printable to begin with. I moved on.

"I take it you do not like the roltons... Does this dislike stem from a childhood trauma or incident of some sort?" The town guard then had a serious look about him as he scanned the surrounding area for signs of approaching dangers. "Ya know, when I was a kid the roltons were a lot bigger. Ten foot tall they were, and teeth like sharpened daggers!"

Arching my eyebrow, I persisted in following the topic. "So, these large roltons caused your dislike for roltons in general?" The town guard grew silent for a while, then finally spoke up again...pointing to the West. "Out there just over the horizon, I found a blue rolton wandering about..."

My only option at this point in the interview was to stare at him, and that's exactly what I did. "Eh? What are ya lookin at me like that for? It was blue I tell ya! Blue like the icy bottom of Glatoph's basin!" he added, tapping the point of his blade on the ground for emphasis.

Feeling that pursuing this area of discussion was not only fruitless, but simply silly, I chose to confront the Guard on a topic we all know he loves: drinking. Leaning against the gate, and fortunately not falling like he had before, I began anew on this topic, recreational alcohol. "Vord on the street is you're quite the drinker. Do you haff a preferred drink, or a taste for something in particular?"

The guard rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then smiled and spoke. "Just once I would like to see a proper brewmeister come to town. I get tired of the local offerings. Don't get me wrong now, Helga's brews are the best. But when you've been around as long as I have, you get to wantin' a little variety now and then."

Chuckling to myself, I nodded my agreement. Though Helga's wine is good, I tend to prefer something from River's Rest, or my favored drink, Faendryl absinthe, lightly sugared. Due to the fact that the guard didn't say as much as hoped to the drinking question, I silently reprimanded myself for forgetting my list of notes and questions. I looked for a new topic, almost immediately making note of the Guard's broadsword, an old weapon that looked like it had seen better days.

The Guard noticed my quiet appraisal of his blade, since I collect weapons I tend to find myself appraising any blade I see, he brandished it from its respective sheath, taking a moment to polish the worn weapon. "Gotta keep yer weapon clean and smooth I tell ya. Cuts down on friction!" he added as he sheathed the weapon. This bit of wisdom was something that had never occurred to me, and he certainly made sense. I was surprised at my own lack of knowledge on blade maintenance, and being a collector was somewhat embarrassed as well. "Certainly a good tip." I responded.

The town guard looked around, licked his finger and held it up in the air. I asked him what it was he was doing, receiving the response, "I don't know. The sky looks clear but the wind feels like rain." The town guard looked up, searching the sky for something. "There are creatures up there. No, I don't mean birds..." he said.

I peered at the guard in a questioning manner, to which he smirked, then added: "Winged monsters as large as buildings! All ya gotta do to find em is learn to fly."

Finding this revelation quite frightening indeed, whether it was the thought of winged beasts flying over the towns, watching everything, or if it was the Guard himself, I cannot decide. Thinking that the Times might take interest in the Guard's more... 'odd' thoughts, I inquired further. "Any other...bits of bizarre knowledge you vould like to haff noted?"

"Something is hiding out there. Beyond a curtain of light. You look like the sort who might be able to find it." was his reply. The guard winked at me, setting me at terrible unease yet again.

Looking for a diversion, I noticed a plethora of rocks and stones about the area. "So...there are...a lot of stones around here..." I babbled out. The guard, as carefully as he could, rearranged a few stones on the ground, then stared at them impatiently, frowning.

Confused, I inquired. "May I ask vhat you are doing vith those stones?"

Still frowning, he responded, "I saw a kid doing this in town once. He always looked so pleased afterward but danged if I can figure out why."

To this, I chuckled, speaking in jest to him. "Sounds like a question for a vise man, eh?" The town guard leaned over to me and whispered into my ear, "I once spent a year waiting in a dark cave for a wise man to answer my questions. When he finally answered, he told me this: 'Don't think on night.' Amazing, eh?"

Once again I found myself staring at the man, idly pondering whether or not he had been drinking on the job again. Then I heard him sigh. "I really could use a drink. I don't see why the captain doesn't allow it on a post like this. It's not as if anything ever happens!"

"Vell," I began, "let us make our vay to Helga's. I hear you are quite the regular to her Tavern."

The guard nodded to me, and we were off, leaving the West Gate very unguarded as we ventured to Helga's Tavern to slake our thirsts with some of her finest ale. We climbed the rickety stairs, stairs that were the downfall for many an inebriated patron leaving the establishment.

We stepped through the door, I nodded my greeting to Helga, but I couldn't help notice an odd look in the Guard's eyes as he looked upon Helga. We each took a seat at the bar and, once settled, I presented my next question, one that was sure to start an interesting conversation. At least, this was my hope at the time, but I prepared for the worst.

"So, Slee... ahem... Guard, vhat do you recommend?" He shifted on his stool and spoke, "Mead is great for romance, wine for special occasions, beer to complement a meal, even grog will do in a pinch, but ale is definitely the best all around drink in any situation!" I smiled and nodded to him, commenting on his interesting views on drinking, and, taking his words into account, decided on the wine. "Helga, an ale please and make it cold!" the guard bellowed. Helga quickly had our drinks to us, cold as requested.

I smiled to Helga and paid her, while she and the guard exchanged some lingering smiles. "Helga, whadya say you and me blow this town and head on up to Idolone for the time of our lives?" the guard said to her, though Helga didn't reply, she silently winked at the town guard and smiled. Seemed like a touch of romance to me, I had a lead, and I intended to follow it. Before I could, the town guard spun around, carefully balancing his mug of ale on his head.

I buried my face in my hands and groaned, fully aware of where this was headed. "Look at me! I'm a ballerina!" said the guard, no later than the words escaped his lips, he got his legs crossed and went toppling to the ground spilling his ale all over himself.

Surprisingly, Helga, instead of getting angry, just shook her head and smiled to herself. I assume she thought it was funny, maybe even cute. "Hey Nevrek, how about buying a round for the house? You look like you can afford it," said the guard with a grin. I coughed a bit, uneasy with the idea, replying "Ehhh... next time ve do this, it's on me... promise. Anything else interesting to tell to the public?"

The guard turned the question around in his head, finally responding. "A few years back, I was playing poker with three Iylari elves and an old troll named Gurk. I had just won my fifth hand in a row when Gurk jumped up in anger proclaiming 'Gearka konak greko kurk!' while waving his arms about. Then he just sat back down and started shuffling the deck for the next hand. I still don't know what the heck he said."

I did little more than blink at that, quickly scribbling the comment onto my scroll. The town guard swaggered over to Helga again, looking quite drunk. "Helga? You have got to be the sweetest woman this side of the Trollfang Mountains. No I mean it! It's just a coincidence that my mug is almost empty."

Seeing that the guard was about ready to devote his attentions to flirting with Helga, I discreetly finished my wine and began gathering my things, and slipped out of the Tavern unnoticed by either party.

Unfortunately, I left my favorite quill behind, but as unnoticed as I was when I crept out, I have a new souvenir wine glass from Helga's. An interesting interview it was, but the guard is quite an odd individual and I do believe I will be avoiding him for the rest of my life. Nice enough fellow, but when he starts gibbering about such things as blue roltons and trolls named Gurk, it's time to move on to a more enlightening ventures.

Perhaps...an interview with that trapper fellow, or that old man who says he was a bard...