Oghren/Dialogue

Oghren's dialogue contains a list of the conversations that Oghren shares with the other companions.

Oghren and Wynne

 * Oghren: Aye, sure. Why not?
 * Wynne: Pardon?
 * Oghren: Oh, I'd give you a roll. Why not?
 * Wynne: A "roll?"
 * Oghren: Aye. Any time. Preferably in the dark.
 * Wynne: I suppose I should be flattered.
 * Oghren: I'm not sure I have the equipment for that, but sure, whatever gets you working.

--


 * Oghren: Ah, Wynne... Care to partake of Oghren's fine homebrew? It's the drink of the gods.
 * Wynne: Mm, ale, is it? And I hope it's brewed hygienically?
 * Oghren: Of course! I may not know clean from a beggar's ass when it comes to most things, but I don't mess around with my ale.
 * Wynne: Very well, let's have a taste.
 * Oghren: Well? Well? What do you think?
 * Wynne: Very nice.
 * Oghren: You like it? well, I never...
 * Wynne: Attractive amber color. Nutty flavor, slightly sweet, just a hint of toastiness. There's some spice to it... I'm finding hard to place...
 * Oghren: Yes? Yes?
 * Wynne: Is it... cloves?
 * Oghren: Cloves! By the stone, you're a lady after my own heart. if I weren't buckled into this armor, I'd take you round the corner and... well, you know.
 * Wynne: Give me more ale?

--


 * Oghren: So, Wynne... how do you know so bleeding much about ale? Have some tawdry tale of misspent youth to tell?
 * Wynne: Nothing quite so interesting, my friend. The Tranquil mages of the Circle just happen to be alchemial miracle-workers, and they brew more than just potions. There was always a pitcher or two of fine ale at our supper table.
 * Oghren: Well, bless my britches... Maybe when all this is done I'll chat up one or two of them quiet mages.
 * Wynne: Uh, Tranquil.
 * Oghren: Tranquil, quiet, insipid... same difference.

--


 * Oghren: Ugh. Got something in my...Sod it.
 * Wynne: What are you... Never mind, I don't want to know.
 * Oghren: That's right. Keep your nose up. You know, just because we don't all live in some tower in the clouds doesn't mean we're worthless.
 * Wynne: I didn't...
 * Oghren: And furthermore, I don't think I appreciate the way you looked at me the other night.
 * Wynne: The way I... what?
 * Oghren: Oh, you remember. Those longing eyes, hungry for a bit of a tussle...
 * Wynne: I never looked at you, dwarf. Definitely not in that way.
 * Oghren: Oh, you're right. Must have been the dog.

--


 * Wynne: Here, I bought you a towel, a bar of soap and a razor while we were at the market.
 * Oghren: Aye? What is this for?
 * Wynne: You wash with it.
 * Oghren: I know what soap is, woman! What is this flimsy slip of metal?
 * Wynne: It's a razor. you shave with it.
 * Oghren: Shave! Any warrior worth his salt keeps his beard! That's what I keep telling Alistair.
 * Wynne: It's matted! It has stale food stuck in it!
 * Oghren: Oh, so that's where that bit of herring got to. Anyway, it keeps my face warm. It doesn't have to be pretty. 'Sides, the ladies love it. Tickles them in all the right places if I wag my chin like this.
 * Wynne: Augh! Just take it. Take it!

--


 * Oghren: You could show me a little appreciation, you know.
 * Wynne: Appreciation? For what?
 * Oghren: I saved your ass a while back! When that thing was... you don't even remember.
 * Wynne: I'm sorry, I--
 * Oghren: No, that's fine. Next time I'll just let it get you, that's all.

--


 * Oghren: So. I was thinking...
 * Wynne: Listen, dwarf. I am not interested in your innuendos, your propositions, or your bodily emanations.
 * Oghren: But I--
 * Wynne: Quiet!
 * Oghren: I just wanted--
 * Wynne: No! Keep it to yourself! I'm serious!
 * Oghren: Eh, fine.
 * Wynne: Good! Thank you!
 * Oghren: Whatever.

--


 * Wynne: Why do you occasionally refer to Alistair as a "little pike-twirler?"
 * Oghren: Why? Has the little pike-twirler taken offence?
 * Wynne: It's just a curious description.
 * Oghren: Curious? (Snorts) Bah. it's entirely true. What, you haven't seen him twirling his pike? Goes at it when he thinks no one's watching. Knocks about in the trees like there's no tomorrow. Caught him just the other day. Blushed all the way down to his navel, then couldn't find his shirt. I swear he's going to hurt himself one of these days, the way he wors that thing.
 * Wynne: I don't want to hear this anymore, do I?
 * Oghren: I keep telling him, pikes are for sticking things at long range, aye? Horses and such. Not for twirling like a sissy-girl.
 * Wynne: Wait, you're talking about an actual pike? Like a spear?
 * Oghren: Obviously. What else would I be talking about?
 * Wynne: I can't imagine.

Oghren and Morrigan

 * Oghren: I swear. The things I could do to you.
 * Morrigan: Ugh. It is leering at me once again...
 * Oghren: oh. Did I say that out loud?

--


 * Oghren: You couldn't hurt me if you wanted to, witch, you know that?
 * Morrigan: T'is so?
 * Oghren: Dwarves resist magic, woman. There's nothing you could do.
 * Morrigan: Nothing? I could not, for instance, kick you in your manhood?
 * Oghren: Oof.
 * Morrigan: Do you wish to see?
 * Oghren: Not necessary.
 * Morrigan: Well, the offer stands.

--


 * Oghren: Hmmm. So you can turn into animals, aye? Like cats and wolves?
 * Morrigan: When the desire strikes me.
 * Oghren: Have you ever... you know. "When in Tevinter..."
 * Morrigan: That's a most curious little mind you have, dwarf. And what if I had? Would that thought comfort you during your lonely nights?
 * Oghren: Hmmm. Have you ever changed during--
 * Morrigan: Why are you suddenly asking me this?
 * Oghren: How do we know you're truly a woman? Or even human! You could be a chip mouse... or a nug! Ha! Imagine that!
 * Morrigan: Why, yes. I am actually a nug in human form. I have come to observe your kind.
 * Oghren: Huh. Nugs are good with extra sauce. I'm just saying.

--


 * Oghren: Have you ever thought about getting yourself a husband, Morrigan? It might do you some good, you know.
 * Morrigan: Tie myself to another with bonds of servitude? It serves no purpose.
 * Oghren: Don't you want little Morrigans running about some day? The pitter-pat of little witchy feet?
 * Morrigan: You say that as if one is necessary for the other to follow. My mother needed no husband to have her daughters.
 * Oghren: But you're not ugly, old forest witch. I'm sure you can land yourself a proper husband if you just show a bit more skin.
 * Morrigan: Is that how you "landed" your own wife? No wonder she turned to her own sex for comfort.
 * Oghren: Now that's just mean.

--

---
 * Morrigan: You are a disgusting creature, dwarf. Did you believe I would not see you? That scarf was my own.
 * Oghren: Bah! I had to blow my nose. Blasted surface air tickles the nostrils.
 * Morrigan: You had no right to take what was not yours!
 * Oghren: Don't be such a squealing nug. You can use my handkerchief any time.
 * Morrigan: If you have a handkerchief, then why not use it?
 * Oghren: Too dirty. Yours was cleaner.
 * Morrigan: This is intolerable! Don't force me to test that dwarven resistance of yours, fool.
 * Oghren: Promises, promises.


 * Morrigan: That is a most offensive odor!
 * Oghren: And you're looking at me?
 * Morrigan: Should I be looking elsewhere? Have you forgotten about the fish you stored in your backpack, perhaps?
 * Oghren: I was saving it. Won't be ready for the lye for at least another day.
 * Morrigan: Even the Chasind did not have such disgusting habits, and they consumed the flesh of the dead.
 * Oghren: Fine, fine, I'll soak it in the lye now. Have it your way, Miss Squeamish.
 * Morrigan: That's not what I... no, never mind. Just...get it over with. Quickly.

Oghren and Leliana

 * Oghren: They tell you what to wear in the Chantry?
 * Leliana: You have robes and such that you must wear.
 * Oghren: And uh, so. Robes. What else?
 * Leliana: Well... sometimes there are vestments and ceremonial garments...
 * Oghren: Right. Right. And... and then?
 * Leliana: Why are you so interested in this?
 * Oghren: Oh sod it. Under the robes: pants? No pants?
 * Leliana: What?
 * Oghren: Stop stalling. Naked or not?
 * Leliana: What difference does it make?
 * Oghren: All right. Stonewall me. I'll find out one way or the other.
 * Leliana: Uh, right. Good luck with that.

--


 * Oghren: (Sigh)
 * Leliana: Is something the matter? Are you... are you thinking about Branka?
 * Oghren: Branka--?
 * Leliana: You loved her, didn't you? I've seen you, some nights, staring off into the distance with such sadness in your eyes. You wonder if you did something that drove her away; you wonder if she would have stayed if you had done things differently. She must have loved you, somewhere inside...
 * Oghren: That sodding great dew-licker had a heart clad in iron. She only had one love—the Anvil. and later, the Anvil. Only sighed because I was gassy, and finally let off a good one. (Inhales) Should be hitting you right about now. (Laughs) Silent killer, eh?
 * Leliana: (Coughs)

--


 * Oghren: How do you stand it? All that open air? Sometimes I look into that big black emptiness and it's like it's swallowing me up.
 * Leliana: I like it. I like to imagine the sky goes on forever... boundless fields of stars, whirling and swirling eternally in their slow dance...
 * Oghren: Not... helping. I don't like looking up and seeing a great infinite nothing.
 * Leliana: You know, in the old days, people said that the sky was an immense vaulted ceiling, crafted by the Maker Himself to protect the world. But the ceiling-sky covered the world in shadow, and so He set in it the sun and moon, to light up the world below. And then He made the stars, and he laid them down in curious patterns, that man would look upon them and wonder what they represented.
 * Oghren: So the sky is just the inside of a great sodding cave.
 * Leliana: That's what they believed. And it gave them comfort.
 * Oghren: Hmph. Then why the bleeding mud did your Maker build it so high up?

Oghren and 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.

--


 * 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.

--


 * 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: 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.

--


 * 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.

Oghren and Zevran

 * Zevran: Hello my stocky little friend!
 * Oghren: Huh. You got small breasts for a gal.
 * Zevran: Ah. This is where we begin the typical dwarven/elven rivalry, is it?
 * Oghren: Nahhh.

--


 * Oghren: So... Antiva. Wonderful place. Full of Antivans...
 * Zevran: Oghren. If you want to bed me, you need only ask.
 * Oghren: What!? Draw your sword and say that again!
 * Zevran: (Laughs) I jest, my foul-smelling friend. You are only slightly more attractive to me than a slime-filled pool of swamp water.
 * Oghren: (Grunts) Better be.
 * Zevran: You have my oath.
 * Oghren: Bloody Antivans.

--


 * Zevran: What exactly are you drinking my fine dwarven friend?
 * Oghren: You can't have any!
 * Zevran: Do not worry, I won't. The stench is worse than your feet.
 * Oghren: What're you doing smelling my feet, uh? Is that some kind of Antivan perversion?
 * Zevran: It is difficult not to smell your feet. Perhaps in Antiva.
 * Oghren: Now you're beginning to sound like Branka.
 * Zevran: Well, she must have been a dwarf with astoundingly clean feet.

--


 * Zevran: You never did answer my question about that filth you so enjoy.
 * Oghren: That's right, I didn't.
 * Zevran: How is it that you never seem to run out? Are you purchasing it somewhere?
 * Oghren: Bah. Nobody sells the good stuff.
 * Zevran: Then are you making it? i don't see a still at the camp...And you aren't walking around with a keg, so unless you're... oh no...
 * Oghren: What? Where has that perverted elven mind of yours gone?
 * Zevran: That... would explain the smell... Suddenly I'm not so interested in trying a sample...

--


 * Oghren: I would have thought saving the surface would have involved less walking.
 * Zevran: Little legs getting tired?
 * Oghren: I thought these people had animals. Horses and such.
 * Zevran: In Orlais, perhaps, but not here. if you like, I could hoist you up on my back.
 * Oghren: Hey now, don't start with the--
 * Zevran: Yes, climb up, and I'll cart you around like a child! Marvelous fun!
 * Oghren: You knife-eared pipe-cleaner, you couldn't carry me on your best day.
 * Zevran: Mmmm. Perhaps if you left behind the spirits, all the weapons, and lost about two feet of beard...
 * Oghren: Ach. I give up. Just keep walking.

--


 * Oghren: Hey, elf. You're all right.
 * Zevran: Am I?
 * Oghren: Aye. I was thinking, I was thinking that you're... you're just all right.
 * Zevran: Drunk again, Oghren?
 * Oghren: "Drunk again, Oghren?" You sound like my father. He was all, "You're drunk; stop wetting on the table."
 * Zevran: How dare he.
 * Oghren: Least my mom had the good sense to hide the booze from him. So, you know, she could drink where he couldn't see her. (Laughs)
 * Zevran: That's heartwarming.
 * Oghren: Hey buddy, let's not go crazy or anything. Keep your pants where I can see 'em.

--


 * Oghren: Elf!
 * Zevran: Oghren!
 * Oghren: I have something to say to you!
 * Zevran: I am all ears, as we elves like to say.
 * Oghren: I... Well, now I forgot.
 * Zevran: Alas.
 * Oghren: But just know I had something.
 * Zevran: You've had several somethings, I suspect. It's part of your charm.

--


 * Zevran: So is it very strange for you, my friend, living in the world of the tall?
 * Oghren: Here I thought I was living in the world of the nosy and the stupid.
 * Zevran: It just occurred to me. Chairs are too high. Tables are out of reach. using the toilet facilities alone must be a lesson in humility.
 * Oghren: I'm not bloody two feet tall, you swishy nug-licker!
 * Zevran: And then the light! After all that gloom of Orzammar and the Deep Roads, it's a wonder you don't wander about squinting in pain.
 * Oghren: It is bright, I'll give you that.
 * Zevran: And... oh! Not to have a roof over your head! You must constantly fear that you'll fall up into that vast, endlessly open sky.
 * Oghren: Uh...
 * Zevran: One day you live within the surety of a mountain, and then gone! Nothing but vacuum, nothing to stop you from being sucked up into the void, nothing to--
 * Oghren: Stop! One more word and I chop you down where you stand!
 * Zevran: You are a brave, brave little soldier, my friend.

--


 * Oghren: I just don't understand you elves. Not one bit.
 * Zevran: Oh? Where is your comprehension lacking, my friend?
 * Oghren: These humans... they turn you all into slaves. They... what did they do? They destroy your homeland! Twice!
 * Zevran: What is your point, dwarf?
 * Oghren: Well, I just don't understand. Why don't you just... kill 'em all?
 * Zevran: There are a great many more humans than elves, if you haven't noticed.
 * Oghren: So? There's a hundred humans for every dwarf, too, but you don't see us bending over an' getting our pipes cleaned, do you?
 * Zevran: That's big talk for a man who lives in a tunnel.
 * Oghren: All I know is the dwarves would never stand for it. You'd think you elves would have learned to duck.
 * Zevran: That must be it, exactly.

--


 * Zevran: I think I have a joke for you, my fine dwarven friend.
 * Oghren: Just don't expect me to laugh.
 * Zevran: So a human, an elf, and a dwarf are walking down a trail beside a stream, and they stop to take a piss.
 * Oghren: All right. Things are lookin' up. Continue.
 * Zevran: After, the human takes out some soap and begins washing his hands. "We humans have learned how to be clean and hygienic," he says to the others. The elf begins picking some leaves off the trees and wipes his hands with them. "We elves do as tradition has taught us and use what nature has provided." The dwarf, meanwhile, has pulled up his trousers and is already on his way down the trail. "And our ancestors," he calls back, "taught us dwarves not to piss on our hands!" (Laughs)
 * Oghren: Heh. Shows you what you know about dwarves.

--


 * Oghren: All right. I guess you aren't all that bad.
 * Zevran: You just decided that, did you?
 * Oghren: Well, I've watch you fight. You could be worse, I guess.
 * Zevran: From you, that's practically a proposal of marriage.
 * Oghren: Don't get excited or nothin'. You're not what I'm looking for in a wife.
 * Zevran: Considering what happened to your last wife, I'll count myself as fortunate.

Oghren and Shale

 * Shale: (Sigh) So. I have a question for you, dwarf.
 * Oghren: Oh? Sounds like you're passing a stone, there. (Laughs) get it? "Passing a stone?"
 * Shale: I do get it, yes. My question is this: had the Anvil of the Void not been destroyed, does it believe the dwarves would have used it?
 * Oghren: Hmm. You mean to create more golems? Oh yes, faster than you could squish a nug.
 * Shale: Even knowing the agony that it caused? They would still inflict it on others?
 * Oghren: No need to inflict it. There'd be plenty ready and willing to sign up, just as you did. There's fewer and fewer of us each year, and the darkspawn never run out. If it meant saving Orzammar? There'd be plenty who'd become a golem, sure.
 * Shale: Does it think it was wrong to destroy the Anvil, then?
 * Oghren: (Sigh) No... sometimes people need to be kept from doing stupid things, even for good reasons.
 * Shale: It is referring to its former wife?
 * Oghren: I think some statues should sod off and ask their sodded questions to someone else.

--


 * Shale: Would the drunken dwarf have saved its former wife if it could? I assumed that since the drunken dwarf was a master of the inappropriate it lacked the ability to actually be offended.
 * Oghren: Hmph. Good call. Truth is, I don't know. She was almost crazier than when we were married, it looked like.
 * Shale: Almost? It is exaggerating, surely.
 * Oghren: Branka was always a bit twitchy. There was that day she took her forging hammer to my head for misplacing her tongs... ah, good times.
 * Shale: I am finding the nature of its relationship to this Branka difficult to imagine.
 * Oghren: Make-up sex. She really knew how to polish the old anvil, if you take my meaning! (Whistles) Paragon! (Laughs)
 * Shale: I am done imagining, now.

--


 * Shale: There was a man in the village who reminded me of the drunken dwarf.
 * Oghren: They had some dwarves just like me, huh?
 * Shale: No. None of the dwarves were similar. They were quiet and respected, more or less. No, the one I remember was a human. He vomited in the street constantly. Then he wandered into a snowstorm and froze to death.
 * Oghren: Huh? And how is that like me?
 * Shale: Did I say similar? I meant I hoped he was similar.
 * Oghren: I think I had a wife like you, once.

--


 * Oghren: So. Do golems know any good jokes?
 * Shale: I know at least one. It is a drunken dwarf that travels with the Grey Warden, constantly belching and--
 * Oghren: Bah! I mean a real one! You must have overheard at least one or two standing there as you did for years and years!
 * Shale: There was a human man who once started telling a joke to another as he relieved himself on my leg. I confess I didn't listen. I was too busy planning my revenge.
 * Oghren: Eh? And what happened to him?
 * Shale: He disappeared during the fighting in Honnleath. Tragic. Hit his head on a rock, I think.
 * Oghren: Huh. Remind me not to fart anywhere near you.

--


 * Shale: The drunken dwarf fights... reasonably well.
 * Oghren: You don't have to make it sound like you're passing a stone to admit it.
 * Shale: It is not physically weak. Or entirely inept. In combat.
 * Oghren: You looking to borrow money, or something?
 * Shale: I am saying that there are worse things than being forced to fight at its side.
 * Oghren: Good to know. Should I drop my trousers now? Or are you done?
 * Shale: Done. Very done.

Oghren and Sten

 * Oghren: C'mon. Who ate the cabbage?
 * Sten: Why ask me?
 * Oghren: I guess you thought we could all share in the bounty?
 * Sten: (Sigh)
 * Oghren: Stand up to it, you giant ass! You've birthed a cloud to be proud of!
 * Sten: Humph.
 * Oghren: I hope you've thought of a name. Whew.

--


 * Sten: Dwarf.
 * Oghren: What?
 * Sten: Stop tripping me.
 * Oghren: Stop tripping yourself!
 * Sten: If you were significant enough to notice, I wouldn't step on you.
 * Oghren: Oh, well... your mother!
 * Sten: ... That was disappointing. I expected better from you.
 * Oghren: Sorry, I was in a rush.

Oghren and Dog

 * Oghren: Don't give me that look, dog. You're about one lifted-leg away from becoming a new pair of boots.

--


 * Oghren: Whatch where you're going, ya sodding great horse of a dog! One day, someone's going to kick you, beast. Not saying who, but someone.

--


 * Oghren: Stand still you sodding Dog!
 * Dog: *Cocks his head quizzically*
 * Oghren: Yeah.. that's right, Oghren's your friend, now just stand still...
 * Dog: *Yelps and runs away*
 * Oghren: You're so melodramatic! I haven't even put the saddle on yet!

--

---
 * Oghren: OK, so you don't like me riding on you. But that don't matter, I got a better idea! A chariot! It would be glorious! Spiked wheels, my house symbol emblazoned on it! I'd like mighty fine indeed! And you, my faithful mutt-steed, would lead the dogs pulling my chariot to the heart of battle! While I hew our foes from the sides!! We'd fell thousands!
 * Dog: *Angry growl*
 * Oghren: Bah! Sodding dog! You have no vision! One day you'll see, I'll have my own squad of Mabari charioteers! And you! You'll regret that you were never able to get a slice of the action!


 * Oghren: Eh, right. Okay, I've got a better idea now. I know you don't like me on your back, but how about... a chariot of some kind, huh?
 * Oghren: Spiked wheels, the crest of my house emblazoned in the front. It would look mighty impressive, I can just see it.
 * Oghren: And you, my great sodding mutt steed, shall charge headlong into the fray, while i stand in my chariot chopping to the left and to the right. We would fell thousands!
 * Dog: (Loud angry barking)
 * Oghren: Bah! You have no vision.  One day, you'll see, I'll have my team of grand mabari charioteers.
 * Oghren: And you--sodding dog--you'll be sorry you didn't get in on the action when you could've!