Conversations you never hear from PCs in the starter area of a game:

“Mum, I don’t wanna be a hero! I don’t want to go risking myself in battle, facing demons, travelling for miles a day and defending cities from tyranny, all with the risk of dying alone on some foreign field. I just want a quiet life, here on the farm with Harriot the pig and Donald the goose and my herb garden.

Look, there are thousands of heroes out there already! I mean, you can barely get into the village for all the heroes running around with their flashy abilities and armour and their bags full of various animal entrails that they give to random strangers. Heroes are a dime a dozen around here. I thought I’d just stay in the village and write down my thoughts about the world; you know, philosophise a bit about the meaning of it all.

What I’m trying to say is… I’m an NPC, Mum. A bystander! A quest-giver! I’m one of those immobile, nondescript, cash-laden, monologuing, storyline providers. I’m a Loot Font, Mum, and proud of it!

Which reminds me, Kenneth and I are going on an NPC Pride march in an hour and I probably won’t be back for tea.”