Interview with an enchanter

[Scene: Interior of the offices of the Daily Bugle, the premier newspaper of Baldur’s Gate. The office is small and cramped and every surface is covered with papers and bound folders. The smell in the air is rich with ink and desperation]
[Enters the Editor, a tall gangling human male dressed in tight fitting green leathers, that look completely out of place and as if he is trying too hard. He sits down behind a desk with a lot of creaking, probably his desk and starts to leaf through some notes that he’s left on top. There is a knock at the door, and the Editor looks up with keen interest]
EDITOR: Come in, please, please come in.
[In enters an average height human, wearing a lavish blue robe with an extravagant, matching cloak. The cloak was patterned with mystical symbols in gold and silver, all glowing gently.]
EDITOR: Griff the Magnificent! Thank you for agreeing to this interview. Please come in and take a seat. Can I get you a drink?
GRIFF: Just Griff please, and yes. Whiskey, straight.
EDITOR: Oh sorry, I thought that all wizards were called “The Magnificent”. Whiskey straight coming right up.
GRIFF: Yeah, it’s a common mistake. Some less than magnificent wizards take on that moniker to make themselves feel more relevant or talented.
[The Editor stands and pours a dark golden liquid from a decanter into a glass and passes it to Griff. Griff takes a tentative sip and stifles a cough as if he’s not really used to it.]
EDITOR: I see, I see! So, let’s get to it then. I have to say the Bugle is proud to be serializing the tales of your group and you are of course a major component of the magic that keeps our readers coming back for more. GRIFF: Thank you, Editor. Your side of what actually happens is quite entertaining to the Band.
[Griff is not smiling and doesn’t look in the slightest impressed or entertained. The editor shuffles, clearly uncomfortable with the comment directed at him]
GRIFF: In fact, this is why I am here ...mostly. To be honest, to put things straight.
EDITOR: Oh, I See, ok well then this should be a most important interview for us here at the Bugle and our readers. If I may, let’s start with a bit of background on you. What makes you .... well, you?
GRIFF: I am glad you asked Editor! I was brought up in humble beginnings like most adventurers. My parent’s castle wasn’t the biggest amongst my friends and for that I received much ridicule I can tell you. It made life difficult; I mean we only had the two libraries, and the serving staff left a lot to be desired. Out of the 100 of or so, only 10 were dedicated to my upbringing. My parents disappeared, which is public knowledge and any rumours that I had anything to do with that are unfounded and unproven.
[Griff pauses to see if the Editor is following along, and then continues]
GRIFF: Anyway, I started out my career to be the finest warrior the land had known, by training with the house guards.
EDITOR: Sorry, one moment please, you were to be a warrior? Griff the Magnificent is known to be an ok Wizard, not one of those muscle-bound heroes! GRIFF: There is so much wrong with that statement. Firstly, not all wizards are called the Magnificent, secondly what do you mean ok and thirdly wizards can be muscle-bound too.
[Griff’s face squints and his whole body seems to spasm]
GRIFF: See! I have muscles. That there, that right there is a pectoral muscle to cry at!
[There is a faint movement in Griff’s robes. The Editor is clearly disturbed by the line these questions are leading.]
EDITOR: Ah yes, I think I saw something then! How you met the rest of the band is well documented but perhaps you’d like to tell us a bit about your role? What is it you feel you have not been represented about or documented accurately?
GRIFF: So many things Editor, so many, many things. Where to start? Ok, firstly I am not cowardly, in the slightest. I am not sure where your writer got that impression. As a battle spell-slinger, my place is at the forefront of skirmishes. I tend to have to be held back by Kurog and Thorg as I struggle to get to the front. Ah yes, the glorious smell of brimstone, steel, sweat and blood. A heady mixture I can tell you.
[The editor notes that Griff is going a little pale]
GRIFF: I mean, yes, I must look after myself as I am not as well-endowed as the others.
[The Editor raises an eyebrow]
GRIFF: Oh! I don’t mean like that. I am hung like the proverbial horse. I can show you if you think it’s necessary.
EDITOR: No, no please completely unnecessary! Now where were you? Ah yes you were saying you were not well-endowed.
[Griff takes a turn to raise an eyebrow]
GRIFF: I mean I am not of a fighter’s constitution and cannot take the same number of blows that they are trained to do. But, like I said, I could if I wanted to. So anyway...I am very brave and I love to be there with Team Heavy Metal as your writer loves to call them. Another thing that I dislike massively is the implication that I take an unhealthy interest in things of a sexual nature.
Yes, yes I do like to take things for personal use. And frankly what I do in my own time is my own business and certainly none of your readers. But, I understand how they like that side of trash journalism.
EDITOR: One second sir, we do not engage int trash journalism, just the facts as we find them.
GRIFF: And that is my point. Who is telling you what we did and how we did it?
EDITOR: Our sources are top tier and must remain anonymous Griff, you know that.
GRIFF: I have my suspicions...
EDITOR: Please continue
GRIFF: Anyway, anything the Lady Luthiel said about her britches and my telekinesis are not true and just hearsay. She is frankly too much trouble that one.
EDITOR: Talking of Luthiel, perhaps you’d like to give the readers a break down on the rest of the group? I mean, to get the inside details on the members of the Band of Tomb Robbing Assassins would be excellent insight. GRIFF: Ah that’s easy. Who do you want to start with?
EDITOR: How about Sentinel?
GRIFF: Moody, stuck up, sarcastic but a wonder with that lute. Did you know she was directly responsible for the success of the Giant Panda breeding programme in Waterdeep? No really, one stanza from that bitchy bard and they were at it like rabbits. She’s also one of my best friends so I am allowed to say those things. She won’t mind.
[|Griff looks down for a moment as if contemplating the last moments of his existence]
GRIFF: Thorg next. Muscles with a bit of brain that one. He pretends to understand what the rest of us casters are talking about and takes great delight in learning some amazing magics but then just charges in with his sword waving anyway. What a waste. I do worry about him sometimes, I have to say. He has an unhealthy relationship with the denizens of Sentinel’s Summoned mansion. It is quite something to have a semi-opaque being try to show you where Thorg touched them on an ethereal doll.
[The Editor is stunned; it is quite clear he wasn’t expecting this at all. Griff is definitely getting into the groove]
GRIFF: Ah yes, Kurog. The meat mountain. He’s one of my favourites to stand behind as he can completely cover me, not that I need it of course. The only problem with being behind Kurog is that, by definition, you’re downwind of him. He does tend to eat the worst food and sweats it out every day and he breaks wind constantly. I mean, when was the last time anyone saw him leave that armour of his and wash himself or the armour for that matter. Never! Good bloke though, for a half-orc. And no, that is not said in a racist way before you portray me that way. I have known many half-orcs and Kurog’s got his head screwed on. Apart from everything we see has to go to his throne room. Luckily, we humour him, or his throne room would be jam packed with utter crap.
EDITOR: Did he ever get the mirror and that crystalline light source back?
GRIFF: You had better believe it. He does NOT take no for an answer.
EDITOR: So, what about the late comer, Jude?
[Griff laughs]
GRIFF: Ah Jude, good old Jude. She’s good for a laugh a minute that one. Not that she knows it being a little...er low on the candle power if you know what I mean? Everything she does is driven by either passion or curiosity, never about logic or thinking that’s for sure. We have done some amazing things, that frankly, we really never needed to do. All down to that pain in the ass Cleric. “Oh, what’s that, I’ll touch it for no reason!”, “Ooh that looks like fun, I’ll go through the clearly evil door”. Yeah, a liability but let’s be honest. She’s pretty hot for a stuck up prissy goodie-two-shoes, so, what’s not to like? Apart from the sanctimonious lectures about raising the dead as servants. I mean come on, they’re just rotting meat.
GRIFF: I think that just leaves Drogon. He’ always been my best-bud in the Band. We always see eye to eye. Metaphorically, obviously him being a short and stout fellow. When the others go to bed, it is us two that are left at the campfire, playing cards or dice. Even though Drogon always wins, I rather miss those simpler times. Him taking money from me, nightly.
{There is a pause in Griff’s litany as his colossal intelligence finally lets a stuck penny drop]
GRIFF: That cheating bastard! Oh, my goodness he’s going to pay me back every copper piece
[Griff stands up and power palpably crackles around him. He turns to the Editor and waves his fingers with a very precise gesture muttering under his breath.] GRIFF: You’ll remember nothing about this visit, I was never here, and you have no recollection of any meeting.
[Griff turns with a flourish of robes and cloak and storms out of the room, intent on finding Drogon. The Editor leans back in his chair with a creak of leather and glances at the runes very obviously painted on the office wall]
EDITOR: Charms won’t work in here, idiot.
[The editor begins to write his article for the next edition of the Daily Bugle]
[Fade to black]