Oghren

What? You're... you're drunk, aren't you?

This drwarf confuses the hell out of Alistair (and me too). From the moment the group meets Oghren in Ozamar, and later on when he becomes part of group, he is just a drunk berserker, and that is also visible from their conversations, while Alistair does question at some point how much alcohol the group is carrying with them, and that he is actually a little jealous that he can’t be always drunk as well, on the other side, he doesn’t really understand the lewd innuendos that Oghren does when talking about the romance between Alistair and the Warden, or simply telling him to get laid.

Still the dialogues are hilarious, simply because at some point when Oghren is talking about polishing the weapon, Alistair misunderstand it, because who wouldn’t, seeing as the dwarf mostly has comments that are 90% about sex.

Dialogues:

(If the Warden is in a romance with Alistair)

Oghren: So. With the boss, aye?
Alistair: Pardon?
Oghren: You and the boss. Rolling your oats.
Alistair: I don't know--
Oghren: Polishing the footstones.
Alistair: --what you're--
Oghren: Tapping the midnight still, if you will.
Alistair: What are you going on about?
Oghren: Forging the moaning statue. Bucking the forbidden horse. Donning the velvet hat.
Alistair: Are you just making these up right now?
Oghren: Nope. Been saving 'em.

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Oghren: You know what would do you some good?
Alistair: A pair of nose plugs?
Oghren: Go out, find a girl. Doesn't matter who, as long as there's no pants involved.
Alistair: What makes you think I haven't?
Oghren: I can smell purity a mile away. It's a talent.
Alistair: That proves to be useful, I'm sure.
Oghren: Not that often, it turns out. Be much better if I could smell cheese.
Alistair: You have my deepest condolences.
Oghren: Yep. So do you.

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(If the Warden is in a romance with Alistair)

Oghren: So, uh, what did you do with her legs?
Alistair: Whose legs?
Oghren: Her legs. That's the problem with dwarven legs. They're useless as an accessory.
Alistair: I didn't do anything with them. I don't know what--
Oghren: Ah, say no more. Just got 'em outta the way and went about your business. Good on you, son.
Alistair: Uhm. Thanks.

-------

Alistair: So you and Branka were really married?
Oghren: Tell you what, boy: you ever been married?
Alistair: Of course not. I was raised in the Chantry.
Oghren: Thank the hardest stone you can find. Marriage is for suckers.
Alistair: So no pitter-patter of little Oghren feet running around the home cave, I take it?
Oghren: All I ever got out of that moss-licker was a headache, a deaf ear, a scratched-up back and that rash it took three different ointments to get rid of.
Alistair: Wow, she gave up on you, did she? And here you are, a keeper, too.

-------

Alistair: What? You're... you're drunk, aren't you?
Oghren: Eh? Was that a question? It didn't sound like a question.
Alistair: How in the Maker's name do you manage to be constantly drunk? Are we even carrying that much alcohol with us?
Oghren: Jealous, huh? (Laughs)
Alistair: A little, yes. Why can't I be drunk all the time? I never get to be drunk.
Oghren: You know, if you drank more wine, you would whine much less.

-------

Alistair: So... that game you were playing in camp, what was that?
Oghren: Diamondback. You've never played Diamondback, have you?
Alistair: That's Diamondback? I've... heard of it. I thought it was a card game played by dwarven... er...
Oghren: Go on, say it. Prostitutes. It's not true, of course.
Alistair: It's not?
Oghren: Of course not. A noble hunter never charges money. Not if she wants to see him again, that is. Never saw one turn down from a gift, though.
Alistair: Err... what does that have to do with card games?
Oghren: Even a noble hunter can get bored. Tell you what, don't ever bet your clothes. They'll strip you clean and leave you naked in the street, trust me.
Alistair: I'll... take your word on it.

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Oghren: Ah. Yep. Lot of tension around here.
Alistair: You think so, do you?
Oghren: Know what I do to relieve tension?
Alistair: I hesitate to wonder.
Oghren: I polish the ol' weapon.
Alistair: Really.
Oghren: Yep. Give it a good shine. With a dry rag, then with a little grease.
Alistair: That's disgusting.
Oghren: You're telling me you never gave yer blade the old spit-shine?
Alistair: I think that's private.
Oghren: Really? Sodding Chantry and its rules. I like to do it right out in the open.
Alistair: Where people can see you?
Oghren: Yep.
Alistair: Wait, what are you talking about?
Oghren: What are you talking about?
Alistair: (Sigh) Never mind.