Ok, I've just about had my FILL of riddle asking, quest assigning, insult throwing, pun hurling, hostage taking, iron mongering, smart arsed fools, freaks, and felons that continually test my will, mettle, strength, intelligence, and most of all, patience! If you've got a straight answer ANYWHERE in that bent little head of yours, I want to hear it pretty damn quick or I'm going to take a large blunt object roughly the size of Elminster AND his hat, and stuff it lengthwise into a crevice of your being so seldom seen that even the denizens of the nine hells themselves wouldn't touch it with a twenty-foot rusty halberd! Have I MADE myself perfectly CLEAR?!
Theodon and Jessup's story time, if you let it happen. They don't care if CHARNAME is a Chaotic Evil necromancer or gore-spattered hardened warrior; to them, you're still the cute little mischievous toddler who used to run around naked all the time.
There's a truly brilliant conversation if you have Keldorn and Imoen in the same party. Imoen tries to pick Keldorn's pocket. Keldorn catches her, and she pretends she is attracted to him. "I j ust can't keep my hands off you!" And he gets all flustered, saying "Good lord Imoen! My daughters are almost your age!" And finally she says, "Oh forget it, Keldorn, here's your ring back." in a tone that shows she just thinks of him as such an old fuddy-duddy.
Likewise just about half the things Minsc says. Here's how he gets you into Spellhold Asylum:
Protagonist: I am clearly deranged. Look who I travel with! Minsc, meet the Pirate Lord! Minsc: Pirate Lord? Such a name does not conjure images of righteous behavior! Stand still a moment and let Boo have a look at you. Pirate Lord Desharik: Er, why is your friend pointing a hamster at me? Minsc: Boo will soon have you figured out. You certainly seem friendlier than I would think a Pirate Lord would be. And where is your peg? Desharik: My — what? Minsc: Your peg. A proper pirate has a peg, whether an arm, leg, or - uh - some other expendable extremity. And a parrot. Desharik: A parrot? Minsc: Certainly! As I have my Boo, so too must you have your parrot! Boo likes parrots. They could wrassel. Desharik: I've seen enough. Congratulations, you are on your way to Spellhold. You are clearly a danger to the general community. By the gods, I think I'm stupider for just talking to you.
"Evil, meet my sword. SWORD! MEET! EVIL!"
Another good one, when a boy named Delon asks him if he's a warrior:
Minsc: Minsc and Boo are the greatest warriors, small one! I will crush your foes into little foe-shaped chunky bits! Who dares pick on you? Just point the way!
Delon: I... I don't have any foes, sir...
Minsc: No foes? I am relieved. I trust those who prey on children no farther than they can be thrown, even if I manage to throw them pretty far, and throw them I shall!
Minsc and Sarevok:
Sarevok: Ranger! Turn your rodent's gaze another direction! I will not be scrutinized as though by some ridiculous divining rod!
Minsc: Boo has an uncanny judge of character, but you...you give him trouble.
Sarevok: I shall give him more than that if this continues! I nearly conquered a nation! I will not be judged by a creature that stores nuts in its cheeks!
Jan: (If present) Hey! I resemble that remark.
Sarevok: (If Jan present) Trust me, gnome, you do not want to partake in my wrath this day.
Minsc: Food storage aside, Boo controls himself far better than you do. Do you see him ranting about mere glances? Let's look.
Minsc: There, you see? No rant. In fact, right now we see him snuffing about for a comfy place to sleep. Admirable restraint.
Minsc: Ah, finally a calming look across your face. Boo's handywork, no doubt. Doesn't that feel better?
Sarevok: Let's...let's go kill something. Soon.
When you provoke him into breaking open his cage at the beginning of Baldur's Gate II, it takes him a moment to realize why you ticked him off. The way the line is delivered when it comes is extremely similar to that of Daffy Duck.
And Jan Jansen. Especially that one time where you can actually play along with Jan's stories to annoy Viconia.
Jan: So Viconia, I suppose you must be a drow, eh? Viconia:Speak not to your betters, surface slave. Jan: My brother, Elgar Buttercup, had skin the shade of charcoal, too. Well, technically it WAS charcoal. He died in a nasty fire, you see. Viconia: You do love the sound of your own voice, don't you gnome? Jan: My own voice? Heartless wench! Do you not know? I am deaf. I have never heard the sound of my own voice. I read lips... (sob)... only lips... Viconia: Deaf? Truly? In the Underdark the deaf are killed or used in pain threshold experiments. Jan: I heard that! In fact, it reminds me of the time I was eaten by an avatar of Lolth. I was stuck inside her stomach with a miserable drow called Biffle Chump for days. Of course, I was forced to eat him. A matter of survival, you understand. Nothing personal. He tasted a bit like chicken. Viconia: [to Protagonist] How is it that you travel with such a wee buffoon? Protagonist: [choosing the second dialogue option] Truthfully, it all goes back to the time that Jan's cousin, Plooty Paladin-piper, got caught in a nasty flesh golem eating contest... Jan: Aye, Plooty had a way of attracting golems. Brilliant, really. You start with a saucer of milk - golems are suckers for milk... Viconia: I refuse to listen to this.
Jan:"Well... I had an Uncle Richard that tried to bring nude theater to a festival in Waterdeep... Exposure is usually good for an actor's career, but even so, a cold reception for the play caused the cast to shrink steadily. Blackballed, my uncle tried to recruit from the thieves' guild, but they wouldn't let their nick-ers go. 'Just bare with me,' he would say, but they were afraid of being stripped of their dignity. He gave up the lead to attract new members, and eventually the production's genius was uncovered, even with his part left out."
Jan: You know, Binky, I've been considering this plan of yours that you had with the Iron Throne and all that. Interesting ideas...but flawed. Sarevok: 'Binky'? You had best not be addressing me, gnome. Jan: For instance, whose idea was it to put impurities into the iron? Sounds like the lame idea of some yes-man underling who didn't know when to quit. No doubt you had him flogged. Sarevok: I will not have my past commented upon by the likes of you, churl. Quiet yourself, lest you experience worse than mere flogging. Jan: Speaking of a good flog, I'm brought to mind of poor Auntie Sara. She, too, had a master plan to take over the Sword Coast, you know. Although hers was considerably less dramatic and involved the use of some tasty recipes for turnip pie and some mind-altering herbs that Auntie Sara had bought from a rather disreputable Turmish mage. Sarevok: Are you listening to *nothing* I say?! Desist or suffer the consequences! Jan: Do you think she would listen to us? You can trust a Turmish mage about as far as you can kick him...and even then it's not a bad idea to carry a good thumping stick. But, alas, Auntie Sara just cackled in her most villain-like way and was determined to carry on with her plan to hypnotize the Sword Coast. Alas, she was completely undone by an over-the-top exposition she gave to a spy that she had captured...and who subsequently escaped, of course, before she could have him killed. It's what villains do, I understand, when they're not busy defiling iron. Sarevok: I will not be mocked, gnome! This is your last warning! Jan: Of course, they say that Duke Eltan had already had a bit of Auntie's pie and enjoyed it immensely. Rather than become hypnotized, he just became rather pleasantly obsessed with silken undergarments. This, of course, led to the first Great Underwear Shortage. It's also known as the Three-Year Wedgie Drought, but that's another story completely. Sarevok: AUUUUGHHH!! How maddening! How you can put up with such impudence, <CHARNAME>!!
Heaven help Sarevok if you put him in a party with Minsc and Jan.
You can't go back to any of the places recruitable party members are found (e.g., the Copper Coronet) in the expansion, but you can use your power to teleport any of them (who are still alive) across the continent and into your Pocket Plane to join you. While they don't get any warning whatsoever and some of them aren't happy at being yanked away from whatever they were doing, Jan is surprisingly unsurprised.
Jan: Oh, is it that time already? CHARNAME: That's all you have to say? Did you know you were coming? Jan: Well, it's like my Uncle Spanky used to say...there's just no point in wetting your pants and screaming if you suddenly find yourself on another plane. Especially if you're dead. What kind of a start to the afterlife would that be? Better to just look like you know what you're doing and impress the hell out of everyone. Of course, Uncle Spanky didn't often follow his own advice. He was once laughed off of Mount Celestial by a pair of mischievous planetars, I hear. (bastards!) CHARNAME: Alright, alright, enough. I need your help, Jan. Jan: Time for a little adventure, is it? I figured as much. I saw some ogres down in Amn capture a poor Bhaalspawn...a kobold, that one, my but that Bhaal got around, didn't he? Anyway, they were stewing him in a big iron pot and I thought to myself, "Jan, my boy, that's adventure you're smelling." CHARNAME: That's horrible! Jan: Not as horrible as the stew. Very bland. No salt. CHARNAME: That reminds me of that turnip beer-cake you foisted on me at Ma Jansen's place. Jan: Well, that happens to be Aunt Petunia's special recipe, my dear (man/woman), and I'll thank you not to disparage it. I bet she could make something a mite tastier out of a Bhaalspawn kobold too, given the chance. Now are we going, or what?
Aerie will ask Jan why he's limping. He answers that he has a fake leg. She asks how it happened and he'll tell a lengthy story that quickly changes to a different subject. She then asks him why it had to do with his leg. He replies:
Jan: A wooden leg? I don't have a wooden leg.
Aerie: Grr, you impossible!
Jan: Yes, I suppose so.
Edwin, too. Especially his reaction to meeting the girl in the tavern in the Athkathla Docks District...
Not to mention Edwin's reactions to becoming a girl.
Salvanas: Ahhh...I have not seen you here, before, lovely creature. How do you do? Edwina: Why...I'm just fine, you — (aargh! Hold your tongue, fool!) Begone, you slithering eel! Salvanas: Ah, yes...the eel...I slither about your loveliness because you draw me to you. You...with your dark lashes and come-hither eyes... Edwina: I said begone! Can you not understand the simplest of common, you lumbering piece of filth! Salvanas: Salvanas understands you. He hears your words and feels your passion. Your fire ignites my own, my sweet...come to me... Edwina: My, but you are a flatterer! (Gah!) I mean...stop it, get lost! A fireball in your gullet would dampen your mood, lizard! Salvanas: Nothing could keep me away from your exotic grace...those hands...those lips...that throat...that, er, Adam's apple? Edwina: GAAAAAHHHH!! (pig) NOW YOU DIE!!
When the transformation happens, Edwin is upset that he's a woman but is particularly horrified when he realizes that his penis has disappeared. If you have Cernd in the party, he apparently makes a note of this and later on remarks offhandedly...
Cernd: Are the flowers not beautiful this time of year? Perhaps a little late in the blooming, but still... Edwina: What!? What are you getting at!? I know you are talking about me, so speak it plain! Cernd: Perhaps your new form has made you more sensitive, though not in a way I call improvement. I meant nothing. It is my wont to talk of nature and her gifts. Edwina: Very well then. I will let your comment pass and... Cernd: I mean, if I say how the great cycle fells the mighty oak, yielding to the furrows and valleys of a more subtle landscape, is it my fault if you take offense? Edwina: I see, I see. I shall let the slight pass and... Cernd: And if I say that the great stag casts aside its wondrous mantle as the long winter approaches, should it be my concern if you draw any comparisons to your... Edwina: Yes, yes, yes, now will you please cease your prattle! Cernd: Poor, Edwin. When nature casts aside an appendage, she is confident it will return in the proper season. My heart weeps for your insecurities. Weep, weep. Edwina: (I wonder what his nature would say about the cleansing power of fire. I wonder.)
Aerie: Why do you talk to yourself Edwin? Edwin: What? Oh, why, hello Aerie. I, ah... don’t do anything of the... (No, now is not the time to make arguments). Why are you asking? Aerie: I - I was just wondering when I get to meet him. Edwin: (There’s no one to meet). There’s no one to meet. Get away from me! You’ll make me crazy, you will, and I’ll not have two pieces of it!!
If Nalia is with Edwina, she'll remark that he walks like a prostitute.
Encountering Bondari and Co. is one of the best Meta jokes this troper has seen. For once, YOU get be the quest-giver to a trio of hapless adventures who somehow wandered into a high level dungeon. When they get back, this happens:
Bondari: (I'm telling you we can take CHARNAME. Nanoc, you are unfettered by the weaknesses of the civilized world! Tim, you can cast magic missile! I will backstab. I bet she/he has all kinds of great treasure!) Nanoc the Barbarian: (But Tim is terrible. Remember the kobold king? He cast one spell then hid behind a rock while we had to slay everyone!) Tim Goldenhand: (Hey! I have the healing potions! I heal you!) Nanoc the Barbarian: (I can shrug off a blow that would fell a normal man! Unfettered by your civilized ways, I...) Bondari: (Enough! Ready...) ATTACK!!! [Bondari and company attack CHARNAME] [CHARNAME transforms into The Slayer] [Bondari and company get slaughtered] Bondari reloads Bondari: Uh, here's your eyestalk sir. We found something else, too. I hope you like it. CHARNAME: Well done, Bondari. Here is your reward. Bondari: Thanks. It was a good quest. I found a dagger and Tim here got a scroll of identify. In a couple of days he'll be able to tell me about my dagger. Tim Goldenhand: Hi. Bondari: Thanks again, Protagonist! Bye! Good luck with the dragon! Nanoc the Barbarian: I bid you a "Farewell" suitably unfettered by civilization.
CESPENAR. His quotes + his voice + his usefulness = the best butler ever.
"Ooooo... you like this one, maybe... like little smack on the tush, heh heh..." "... dum-de-dum-de-dum... I'se looking through stuffs that ain't mine... de-dum-dum..." "Big hammer. Bhaal drop one like this on toe once. Kicked poor me all the way to Baator. ...bad week, that." "I keep looking, but I runnings out of recipes soon. Needs to find Martha, soon. She around Hell somewhere, I thinks." "You not got better things to do than watch me search your bags? Like quest, maybe?" (To anyone other than the protagonist:)"Uhhh...Cespenar only serve the Great One. You is nice and all, but you is still a nobody." "Oooo...big weapon, this (referring to the Ravager halberd). You over-compensating, maybe?" "A glove? Only one? What is you, a rock star?
Even the normally Wangsty Aerie Romance has one gem of funny. What can the protagonist answer when Aerie said everyone seems to be so down and needs to cheer up like in the circus?
Whatever, just don't go around turning everyone into chickens.
If you have the Expanded NPC mod for the first game, and Minsc is in your party when you encounter a pickpocket at the fair...
Minsc: Its not nice to steal!
Pickpocket: Er...but I am a world famous pickpocket, after all, and, uh...you're kind of crushing my arm.
Minsc: IT'S NOT NICE TO STEAL!
Made better by Imoen playfully commenting to the same pickpocket how Minsc one killed a monster with his bare hands.
Imoen's constant weedling requests for Dynahier to tutor her in magic.
If you listen to Noober long enough, Imoen and Minsc will eventually snap and scare him off with some...colorful threats.
Jaheira vs. Haer'Dalis:
Haer’Dalis: Ah, my hound, this city be the great world of commerce! Perhaps we can sell Jaheira? Jaheira: Cut your wit, bard. The day has been long already, without you adding hours to it. Haer’Dalis: Cut my wit? Why, certainly, if i could only use your nose’s razor edge to perform the task. Jaheira: Aye, it seems I’ve sharpened it upon the grindstone of your heart. Haer’Dalis: Well, my frumpy ptarmigan, I must protest- Jaheira: "Methinks thou dost protest too much." Aya, I can quote the poets too. If you must protest, I respond only to hunger strikes and, even then, too late. Haer’Dalis: Oh <CHARNAME>, raven of sympathy! Yon woman is stifling my creativity and stealing thunder from my wit! I swear I cannot work amidst the lashings of her tongue!
If you have the expanded banter pack, Haer'Dalis fires back if you have Jaheira and Edwin together in a party:
Haer’Dalis: He'll strike you dead with magician's flair She'll freeze your blood with a cold dead stare His cloak is decked in the finest reds Her underthings... there, I'll not tread Jaheira and Edwin, the die is cast Jaheira and Edwin, of such polar pasts Jaheira and Edwin, seems to me quite clear Were the universe fair, neither one would be here. Edwin: Oh, bravo, bard. Cleared five seconds from your busy schedule of doing nothing to compose that ditty? Jaheira: Haer'Dalis, as a motivator of camaraderie, you might make a passable slop bucket. Edwin: Why <CHARNAME> tolerates your parasitic presence, I have no idea. I have heard better singing from beggars and seen better magic from a zulkir's dog. Jaheira: Indeed. But you know what they say, Edwin. There is no accounting for taste, or the tasteless. Haer’Dalis: Ah! Delightful! This is all far, far better than I ever expected! Jaheira: A better response than you usually receive? I wish I could believe it, but there are enough fawning little girls in the world to swoon at worse, I am sure. Haer’Dalis: The poem was merely a decoy, my friends. But seeing yon two opposites unite against a common foe does set my heart a-soaring. Were you to mount a stage performance of one of the great love stories, 'twould be an event to remember. Nay, not some simple tale of star-crossed lovers, but the best kind, full of mistrust, words spat in anger and faces slapped in fury, culminating in the inevitable pairing of two so obviously meant for one another. The passionate hatred, the uneasy alliance and then the sweet surrender to passionate embrace... ah, the audience would feel your pain and pleasure for they would be so real! Edwin: She would never live through the first act. I would find myself simply unable to slip out of character when asked by the script to stay my hand. (I am finding it hard to resist even now.) Jaheira: Don't flatter yourself, Edwin. You would be fortunate to walk away with a permanent limp after the first rehearsal. Haer’Dalis: Magnificent. Truly magnificent.
Journal entry for one of the island quests in the first game:
"We have agreed to retrieve Farthing's dolly should we come across it on the island. She has allowed us to play with the doll on the way back."
The second time your party's thief teams up with Narlen and Rededge to burglarize a house, she or he has to think quickly when the owner (a jeweler named Gantolodran) starts to wake up.
Gantolodran: Zzzzz...wha...wait a minute. I don't own a cat. Who's there?
Thief: I'm a stray, go back to sleep. Shhhhhhhhhh
Gantolodran: YAWN...that makes sense...g'nite kitty...zzzzzz
Gantolodran: Zzzz*Grumble...noisiest talking cat I ever heard...wha..what did I just say? Noisiest talking ca...Guards! Guards!
Thief: The jig's up! Out, we must get out!
Tales of the Sword Coast has an encounter that lets you introduce yourself in a rather hilarious fasion:
Player: I am Dinklemus Littlelog and I have come in search of the holy groundhog!
When wandering around the Bridge District in the second game, you're treated to this exchange if you speak to a certain little girl:
Girl: MY MOTHER SAYS THAT DARK ELVES SHOULD BE HANGED UNLESS THEY'RE NAMED DRIZZT!
Viconia: (sigh) So what else is new?
There's something deliciously narky about Jaheira's responses in the following conversation:
Baron Ployer: Jaheira, you and your claims brought me shame and suffering, and today I am going to exact payment. For your slanderous accusations I am going to...
Jaheira: Well, the slander is going a bit far. You actually were a slaver, you know. It's not slander if it's proven.
One of Xzar's 'clicked-on' quotes is "STOP TOUCHING MEEEEEEEE!" in a very goofy-sounding voice.
Korgan getting Jan to tell a story is quite funny and disturbing:
Korgan: ‘Tis been far too long since our last battle. Jan, ye runty windbag, tell me a story to ward off the boredom ... and if ye know what’s good for ye, it’ll be about dwarves! Jan: Ah, finally someone who appreciates my tales! A tale about dwarves, eh? Let me see, of course - my cousin Kimble. Not a dwarf himself per se, but Kimble always was of peculiar tastes for a gnome. He fell in love with a dwarven lass. She was stout and stocky, with a gruff voice and a soft, supple beard... Korgan: Ah, gnome, ye know how to paint a lovely picture ... such a beauty she must ha’ been! Jan: Oh yes, she was a fine looking woman ... to Kimble’s eyes at least. She cast a spell on him far stronger than any sorcerer could have. But she wouldn’t have anything to do with my cousin - she had dwarven princes and clan lords after her calloused hands, and she couldn’t be bothered with a dirt poor turnip farming gnome. But Kimble’s heart wouldn’t be denied ... he left his own family to follow this bewitching character back to her clan home. Korgan: Yer losin’ me gnome, I don’t want no weeping love story. I want killin’ and death! Give me blood! Jan: You wanted a story about dwarves, and this is the only one I’ve got. I just can’t make up a life, you know ... that would be an affront to the grand tradition of storytelling in my family! Now, where was I? Oh yes, Kimble. My cousin followed the lovely dwarven lass to her clan home in the Alimir Mountains, and started a turnip farm there. He had a rough go of it at first, let me tell you ... taxes, levies, zoning restrictions. It was almost like the dwarves didn’t want him and his farm there. But they never had turnips, so they didn’t really know what they were missing. One of those turnips started to sprout things, changed in a hurry. Turns out the dwarves of that particular clan LOVED turnips. Fried, baked, boiled, pureed, mashed - you couldn’t find a meal of the day they didn’t have turnips with. Turnips became so fashionable they began to wear clothes made from turnips. Never did a dwarf look so snazzy (or smell so appetizing) as when he dressed up in a turnip top hat and turnip tails, with turnip skin shoes to complete the ensemble. And with his turnip business booming, Kimble had more wealth than he knew what to do with. Just walking around his house was an effort, what with all the mountains of gold spilling out of every door of every room. Korgan: All that gold got me attention, gnome. But the happy ending isn’t doin’ much for me. Jan: Happy ending? I never said any such thing. Kimble was rich, true enough - but it turns out his dwarven love didn’t share her clans’ fondness for turnips. In fact, she was deathly allergic. She did her best to avoid the lethal vegetables, but as popular as Kimble’s crops were it was only a matter of time before she accidentally ate one. It killed her, of course. Heartbroken, Kimble tried to return to his own people. But the dwarves just weren’t going to let him and his turnips leave. They threw him in prison and demanded he reveal the secrets of turnip farming, but that isn’t something you can just teach. You either have the gift or you don’t, and dwarves don’t. In the end Kimble’s frail body succumbed to the dwarves’ torture and interrogation and he left to join his beloved in the afterlife. And that particular dwarven clan discovered that turnip farmers were almost as tasty as turnips themselves. Or so I’ve heard. Korgan: HAR! HAR! HAR! A great tale, gnome. Ye done yerself proud! ——-
In the Enhanced Edition, having Tiax and Dorn in the same party will result in the mad little gnome trying to steal the Blackguard's demonic power and fail hilariously. Dorn is too amused by it, and Tiax attempting to play off his failure as intention comedy, to stomp him out for it.
Also in the Enhanced Edition, try to have Minsc around when initiating Neera's quest:
Neera: In magical term, I can play a pretty mean tune. But when I miss a note, the flute shoots fire at everyone. Also, the flute sometimes turns me into a hamster.
Minsc: Did you hear that, Boo? Maybe she will turn into a hamster, and we will have a little friend for you to wrassel!
Neera: <CHARNAME>, promise to keep him away from me if it does happen again!
<CHARNAME> (possible answer): No, it's been too long since we've had a good hamster cage match.
In Enhanced Edition II, there's a somewhat elaborate but fairly still fairly basic quest involving a bear named Wilson, a hippie wild mage, and a trapper. You can pay 5000 gold to free Wilson talking to him, and then he runs off. End of quest, right? No. When you go to leave the area (Heretic Temple), you see Wilson standing by the exit. If you go up to him, CHARNAME strikes up another one-sided conversation with Wilson. What's the result of the talk? Wilson offers to join the party, and you can let him. One of the most unexpected, hilarious, and delightful quest rewards possible.
In the Enhanced Edition of the second game, the magical ale stein you get as a gift from one of the wild mages is said to have your name monogrammed on it by its creator. If you look at the picture of the item, it very clearly says CHARNAME.
The good solution to the Pride test in the second game's climax. The voice acting clinches it completely.
CHARNAME: But why does [this creature] deserve death? Pride demon:Because it exists! It stands in your way! CHARNAME: Are you saying it will not simply give me the Tear? Pride demon:*Deflating completely* Well... No. It... *might* give it to you, if you ask it nicely enough, I suppose...