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

Dragon Age: Origins[]

Oghren's remarks[]

  • (added to the party) "Uh-huh!"
  • (taken out of the party) "Thunderhumper!"
  • (entering the main market in Denerim) "I've got a craving for some spit-roasted nug with hot sauce. You think they have that here?"
  • (entering Gnawed Noble Tavern) "Look at that. Nobles all around the world are all the same. Drinking overpriced swill and talking about their clothes."
  • (outside the Wonders of Thedas) "Branka used to drag me into stores like this all the time. Before she went crazy she used to collect little ceramic horses. It's true."
  • (inside the Wonders of Thedas) "Hey, could I borrow a sovereign? I've always wanted a head of an adulterer, preserved in honey."
  • (entering The Pearl) "Now this is what I'm talking about! Ooh, come to Oghren, ye long-limbed goddesses. The pride of Orzammar is in the house!"
  • (outside Eamon's estate and in the back of the Arl of Denerim's Estate) "They should replace the water in that fountain with ale. It's just an idea."
  • (Alienage gates) "*Sniffs* "And here I thought elves all smelled of wildflowers and sunshine."
  • (at the vhenadahl tree) "I bet I'm the first dwarf to step foot in here."
  • (entering Lake Calenhad Docks) "Have I ever mentioned I can't swim?"
  • (at Lake Calenhad shoreline) "Ooh, that's huge. (Giggles) I wonder how long it took to erect it. (Giggles) Get it? Erect?"
  • (entering the Apprentice Quarters) "And they told me everyone was treated the same on the surface."
  • (entering the Senior Mage Quarters) "What was that noise?"
  • (in Irving's study) "Floor's sticky here. Wonder why..."
  • (entering the Great Hall) "(Burp!) M-maybe I shouldn't have eaten that piece of meat I found..."
  • (seeing the corruption in the Templar Quarters) "T-that lump...that didn't just...quiver, did it? Just a trick of the light?"
  • (being sedated by the Sloth demon) "Ho...I feel like I've had a bellyful of warm meat and cool ale...All that's missing is well-formed bosom to rest my head on...Mmmm..."
  • (Confronting the Sloth demon) "A-ha! Got lost, did you? Well, here's this demon fellow. What say we make him sorry?"
  • (approaching Cullen) "Look at that! A live one! What are the chances?"
  • (collecting the fourth Apprentice Note) "So there were mages before mages. So what?"
  • (collecting the final Apprentice Note) "What? Ah, something something something, my wife! Yeah. Thought I wasn't paying attention."
  • (defeating Shah Wyrd) "So a big mage lets his mind wander and you get that, huh? Well, on behalf of the dwarves, keep your magic."
  • (outside Redcliffe chantry) "(belches) Huh. Surface air."
  • (approaching the windmill in Redcliffe Village) "What do you think the villagers would say to me taking a dip in the lake naked?"
  • (secret tunnel into Redcliffe Dungeons) "A prison, eh? Smells like mildew, stale sweat... and despair"
  • (going up the first slope in Haven) "Well, this is nice… I wonder if they have a tavern."
  • (up the slope leading to the chantry) "They are remarkably in-tune."
  • (entering the Ruined Temple) "I'm cold. And it's indoors. This is so wrong."
  • (entering the Ruined Temple library) "Books, books and hello! More books."
  • (statue of Maferath) "Good-looking fellow, isn't he? Chiseled features and all that. Pun intended. (snickers)"
  • (statue of Hessarian) "Hello, I'm Hessarian, and I'm a pompous prat! (giggles)"
  • (entering the Mountainside Caverns) "Hey! This feels like home!"
  • (on the Mountain Top after seeing the high dragon) "A High Dragon - a foe worthy of the great Oghren! Wait till the boys at Tapster's hear about this."
  • (entering the Gauntlet) "Something about this place makes my skin prickle."
  • (entering the bridge puzzle room) "I bet that thing's going to collapse the second we're all standing on it."
  • (suggesting puzzle's solution) "So is anyone going to suggest tossing the dwarf across? No? Pity."
  • (a plate is triggered) "That's unnatural. Where I come from bridges are either there or not. I wouldn't trust that thing to hold my weight."
  • (solving the bridge puzzle in the Gauntlet) "(snorts) Branka would have loved this. She enjoyed flipping the switches, as you know.
  • (entering the urn room) "I thought the Urn would be bigger. Andraste was a small woman, huh?"
  • (approaching the Urn) "That's it? Thought it would be bigger."
  • (speaking to Varathorn) "Hmph. Elves and their wood-shaping. It's unnatural. Why use wood when you've got perfectly good metal and stone?"
  • (greeting Hahren Sarel) "Hmph. I just kill darkspawn. Don't need any fancy heraldry for that. You folks brew any ale?" (Dalish Origin required)
  • (about the aravels of the Dalish Camp) "Elves turning into werewolves, huh? Walking on the wild side. Hee hee..."
  • (near the halla pen of the Dalish Camp) "(farts) It's them antler-beasts! I swear! (giggles)"
  • (entering the Brecilian Forest) "(Sneezes) All this greenery is making me sick."
  • (after the werewolves retreat into the ruins) "Smell that? Looks like these fellows have marked their territory."
  • (descending down the first stairs in Ruins Upper Level) "Smells like wet dog in here."
  • (hearing the dragon in Ruins Upper Level) "You see that? My mother told me never to trust anything that could make turds larger than you are."
  • (Caridin's Cross - Ortan Thaig exit) "This is the right way out. Ortan Thaig. It won't be long now."
  • (Ortan Thaig - Leaving Ruck's camp) "Looks like that bone-picker is living in Branka's old camp. Did you see the marks on the floor? There where a lot of people and fires there once. Those must be Branka's papers he said where taken by the spiders. Nothing that fragile would be left from the thaig"
  • (picking up Branka's Journal) "Branka was thinking about me! I knew she still cared! Old softy. Looks like the Dead Trenches is our next stop, then. The say the darkspawn nest there, whole herds of 'em. But if that's where Branka went, then that's where I'm going."
  • (entering the Dead Trenches) "Bownammar. I thought it would have fallen into dust by now."
  • (entering Anvil of the Void) "If Branka is anywhere, this has to be it. She will not be unprepared."
  • (encountering Branka) "Well, shave my back and call me an elf!"
  • (if he's spoken to after meeting Branka) Heh. Good ol' Branka. She's a bit, uh, abrasive, isn't she? Guess I forgot that part about her screeching in my ear every sodding day. Ah, well. We'll help her get the Anvil, and then she'll come home and everything will be better.
  • (delivering Notices of Death) "So. You know that husband of yours? Dead. Sorry!" or "Er, hm. Oh! Good news, lady: you are single!"
  • (after clearing Soldier's Peak) "The whole keep was a bust. The only skirt had scabs all over her face. And she had that possession thing going, too, right? Mind you, that wouldn't stop me. But still sodding disappointing."

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 alchemical 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 works 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.

(if the Warden has romanced both Leliana and Morrigan)

  • Oghren: So, you're not tossing yourself at the boss?
  • Wynne: Excuse me?
  • Oghren: It seems like every other woman in the band is tossing herself at the boss feet first. It's like a sodding noble's birthday party here.
  • Wynne: Oh, no. The Grey Warden is a little young for me. Both of them are.
  • Oghren: Need someone with a little more experience, I guess, right?
  • Wynne: I suppose.
  • Oghren: Well, you know where to find me.

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.
  • 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: 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.
  • Morrigan: Lay your hand on me once more, dwarf, and the moment shall be your last.
  • Oghren: Ahhh, don't take it personally. I stepped on a rock! You don't want me to fall and break my neck, do you?
  • Morrigan: The prospect would not trouble me overmuch.
  • Oghren: Hmph. You sound just like Branka.
  • Morrigan Then I commend her good sense. But this is the last time I will tell you. Touch me no more.
  • Oghren: Huh. Branka said that too...
  • 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 no 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.

(if the Warden is in a romance with Morrigan)

  • Oghren: What do you people see in him?
  • Morrigan: See in whom?
  • Oghren: In the Warden.
  • Morrigan: (Chuckles) Jealous, are we?
  • Oghren: Jealous! Of him? Ha!
  • Morrigan: Of course. A handsome man, with women fawning over him. It must be very difficult for you to handle. I do not blame you your envy, however. Especially considering that the chances of any woman who is not struck both blind and dumb of providing you the attention you crave is... slight.
  • Oghren: Quiet, you! You can't get under my skin!
  • Morrigan: Were I you, I would simply give up all hope of knowing another woman at all. Or have you already? A wise move, if so.
  • Oghren: Forget I said anything.
  • Morrigan: Trust me, dwarf... I already have.

(if the Warden slept with Morrigan)

  • Oghren: So, you and the Grey Warden, huh? (Chuckles)
  • Morrigan: I hope you're not referring to Alistair.
  • Oghren: Him? Does he even like girls?
  • Morrigan: I believe the matter is still up for debate.
  • Alistair: (if present) *Sigh* I'm right here, you know.
  • Oghren: Anyway. You and the Grey Warden, huh?
  • Morrigan: Do you actually have a question, dwarf? Or is it your intention simply to leer and drool?
  • Oghren: Stick with the classics. Leer and drool.
  • Morrigan: I thought so.

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.

(after completing A Paragon of Her Kind)

  • 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?

(after Leliana was given the Cute Nug as a Gift)

  • Oghren: Ach! Leliana, get this stupid beast out of here.
  • Leliana: I am sorry, Oghren, was he disturbing you?
  • Oghren: No, but if he isn't careful I'm going to start thinking about how delicious he looks. A little taste of home, eh?
  • Leliana: Um, I will make sure Schmooples is never underfoot again.
  • Oghren: Schmooples? You named a nug Schmooples? The last thing we need around here is a walking snack named Schmooples!

Oghren and Alistair[]

  • 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.
  • 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.
  • 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.

(if the Warden slept 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.
  • 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.

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 have only to ask.
  • Oghren: What!? Draw your sword and say that again!
  • Zevran: (Laughs) I jest, my foul-smelling friend. You are only slightly less 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.

(Entering the Brecilian Forestt)

  • Oghren: Well, here we are, elf. The homeland of your people.
  • Zevran: I am from Antiva, Oghren. I don't go into forests as a rule.
  • Oghren: Huh, I thought you elves were all from the woods. With the flowers and the wind and what-not.
  • Zevran: The Dalish perhaps. Most of us were born with a roof over our head.
  • Oghren: Then why the sod do we keep hearing about elves frolicking in the thicket and nug-spew like that?
  • Zevran: Could it be that Orzammar's archives aren't the most accurate authority on elves?
  • Oghren: Heh. Orzammar's archives are hardly an authority on Orzammar's archives.
  • Zevran: I'm just cheered by the thought that you might have picked up a book at some point.
  • Oghren: Heh. It had pictures. Dirty ones.
  • Zevran: (Sighs) Well, naturally.
  • 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.

(Playing as a female character with an Adore rating with Zevran)

  • Oghren: I didn't think she'd go for an elf. / (If the Warden is an elf or a mage) Figures she'd go for an elf.
  • Zevran: She who?
  • Oghren: You and the Warden. We all know what's going on there.
  • Zevran: Oh? Does that make you jealous, my stout little friend?
  • Oghren: Me? Ha! Last thing I need is another woman in my life.
  • Zevran: One wife was enough for you, was she?
  • Oghren: Ha. Branka was only slightly more woman than I am. Bristle-chinned poetess.
  • Zevran: Shocking that our fair Grey Warden didn't choose you instead.
  • Oghren: Wonders never cease.

(Playing as a male character romancing Zevran)

  • Oghren: So... you and the Boss, huh...?
  • Zevran: If by "Boss" you are referring to who I think you are, you are correct.
  • Oghren: Yeah... Well.... Good luck with that.
  • Zevran: Why, thank you ever so much.
  • Oghren: You might wanna...you know...keep it down though.

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?
  • Oghren: Maybe it didn't get the hint the last time you brought this topic up.
  • Shale: 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: You know, I've seen a golem or two in my time. We have them in Orzammar.
  • Shale: It is indeed wise in the ways of the golem. It deserves a medal.
  • Oghren: Thing is, I don't remember anyone ever mentioning about them having memory problems.
  • Shale: Perhaps they are not the ones with the memory problems.
  • Oghren: I talked to a golem once. It didn't have anything interesting to say... But its memory? Sharp. It could tell you what you were wearing at the Barnack festival ten years ago.
  • Shale: Probably vomit and flies and little else if I were to guess.
  • Oghren: 'Course if someone simply claimed to have lost their memory... That would avoid some awkward questions.
  • Shale: Is it still talking? It is not drinking, so it must be.
  • Oghren: Fine, fine. You go on and don't answer me. You'll screw up sooner or later.
  • Oghren: So you remember your old master's name, right? And everything about him?
  • Shale: Is it still going on about my memory? Such focus must be incredibly difficult for it to maintain.
  • Oghren: You don't remember killing him, or how you got all free-willed or anything. But you do remember the next thirty years?
  • Shale: More or less. My former master did something to me, which I do not remember. What is its point?
  • Oghren: A-ha! How could you know he did something to you... unless you remember it!
  • Shale: Let us, for argument's sake, assume it is correct. I murdered the fool on purpose, and remember it. Why would I lie?
  • Oghren: Because you, uh... could do it again!
  • Shale: Ye-esss, I waited thirty years, biding my time until I could strike! Soon my betrayal shall be complete!
  • Oghren: Exactly! I knew it! Ha!
  • Shale: Well, do not tell anyone. I want it to be a surprise when it happens.
  • Oghren: I think I got it, now. Why you claimed to forget about the murdering bit.
  • Shale: Oh? Do tell. Does it involve prostitutes and quaint mining references?
  • Oghren: You're embarrassed.
  • Shale: I am embarrassed?
  • Oghren: You're a proud one. If I know anything, it's when someone's too proud for their own damned good. And whatever that mage dug up in you, it made you lose control, didn't it?
  • Oghren: You go on and on about how humans are weak and they die so easily--and you should know, right? Slip up once and they die, just like that.
  • Shale: This is its theory?
  • Oghren: I bet you even liked the guy. Easier to believe you killed someone you hate, though, huh?
  • Shale: I... It knows nothing. It knows less than nothing.
  • Oghren: About screwing up, (Laughs) I know lots. More than lots. But you just go on thinking whatever you like, stone-britches.
  • Oghren: So...
  • Shale:: What? Why is a drunkard staring at me?
  • Oghren: So you were a girl dwarf?
  • Shale: And? What of it?
  • Oghren: So essentially right now you're a naked, girl dwarf!
  • Shale: Who is also made of stone. Erase the mental image in your head drunkard, or I will crush it out with my fist!
  • Oghren: Hot!
  • Shale: I'm going to stand over here now.

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: Lost your weapon, did you?
  • Sten: What of it?
  • Oghren: Swinging an empty scabbard, then?
  • Sten: ...
  • Oghren: Your pike was purloined?
  • Sten: "Purloined?" Did you have to look that one up?
  • Oghren: Maybe. You have to admit, it's good.
  • Sten: (Sigh)

(alternate line if Zevran was recruited)

  • Oghren: The elf gave me that one. You have to admit, it's good.
  • Sten: (Sigh)

Oghren and Dog[]

  • Oghren: If you just stood still for a minute...
  • Dog: *Cocks his head quizzically*
  • Oghren: You like Oghren, don't you? Oghren's your friend. That's right. We understand each other. Now stand still, you stupid mutt...
  • Dog: *Yelps and runs away*
  • Oghren: Oh, come on! You're so melodramatic! I haven't even put the saddle on yet!
  • 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? Spiked wheels, the crest of my house emblazoned in the front. It would look mighty impressive, I can just see it. 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. And you--sodding dog--you'll be sorry you didn't get in on the action when you could've!
  • Oghren: Don't give me that look, dog. You're about one lifted-leg away from becoming a new pair of boots.
  • Oghren: Watch where you're going, ya sodding great horse of a dog!
  • Alistair (If in the party): Oh, he didn't do anything to you. Let it go.
  • Morrigan (If in the party): Glad someone said it.
  • Zevran (If in the party): Hop on and ride him, Oghren. He's about the right size.
  • Oghren: One day, someone's going to kick you, beast. Not saying who, but someone.
  • Oghren: Hey, you stupid mutt. What are you looking at me for? Well you better get moving, you great sodding pile of potential poo.
  • Dog: *Growls angrily*
  • Oghren: Ha! You give as good as you get, mutt. Maybe there's something to this Ferelden notion of having dog companions. Companions and allies. No need for those big, clomping golems, is there? Just between the two of us, I think those golems are more trouble than they're worth. Too bad so many had to suffer before they figured it out.

Oghren and the Secret companion[]

This section contains spoilers for:
Dragon Age: Origins.

  • Oghren: So what, now we're supposed to be best friends? Bosom buddies? Sit around the campfire and sing together?
  • Loghain: Somehow, I have no desire ever to hear you sing, Dwarf.
  • Oghren: Just don't start thinking that you belong here.
  • Loghain: Oh, I'm in no danger of that, I promise you.

Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening[]

Oghren's remarks[]

  • (added to the party) "(grunts)"
  • (taken out of the party) "Thunderhumper!"
  • (entering the Avvar Crypt) "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to mess with dead people?"
  • (when entering the City of Amaranthine) "Right, we're in a city. Where's the tavern?"
  • (when entering the Amaranthine market) "Someone told me you could buy anything in the marketplace. They lied. No pickled nug anywhere."
  • (on the bridge in Knotwood Hills) "Looks like this section of the Deep Roads fell in. Must've been built too close to the surface."
  • (upon finding the secret passage in Kal'Hirol) "Secret doors... heh heh... Useful for sneakin' out without the wife noticing."
  • (when walking inside Kal'Hirol - Main Hall) "This stuff looks like Felsi's First Day festival stew. The girl has her strengths, but cooking is not one of them."
  • (when nearing large lyrium container in Kal'Hirol - Trade Quarter) "Yep. Lyrium. They probably used it for smithing enchantments, before they abandoned Kal'Hirol."
  • (Kal'Hirol - Lower Reaches, in the long hallway) "Back in Kal'Hirol's time, long corridors were probably a status symbol. The longer the better. (Chuckles)"
  • (Kal'Hirol's Lower Reaches, near the broodmother pit) "Those tentacles... The waving... It's kind of hypnotic, isn't it?"
  • (when entering the Wending Wood upon seeing the wreaked caravan) "Huh. Looks like our estate did when Branka went on one of her monthly rampages."
  • (at an overlook in the Wending Wood, near the suspicious camp.) "Can we get moving, already? All this greenery is making my beard itch."
  • (at buriel pit in the Wending Wood) "Poor sods. Look at them. What did this? The elf, or the darkspawn?"
  • (after defeating a Wild sylvan; a possible reply when the Warden-Commander interacts with him) "Hey, look at me, I'm an elf! Trees are pretty! Tra la la."
  • (at the Silverite Mine, upon seeing the ballista) "A ballista? (Grunts) Those things are for cowards and elderly women. Come on, let's get our hands dirty."
  • (initial remark when entering the Blackmarsh) "Figures the darkspawn would pick somewhere wet and muddy. I better not lose a boot."
  • (past the old sign upon entering the Blackmarsh) "(Shrieks) I thought I saw a...I mean...Ahem."
  • (when nearing the dragon bone head in the Blackmarsh) "That dragon must've been dead a while. Pity. Nothing gets the blood flowing like a dragon battle."
  • (near a Veil tear in the Blackmarsh) "(Grunts) A hole leading into the Fade. I wouldn't touch it."
  • (first encounter with the Children) "The darkspawn just get more gross every day." "Never heard of them just up and changing like this. Magic, I bet."
  • (near ruined house in the Blackmarsh) "Looks like no one's home. (Chuckles)"
  • (during the conversation with The First in the Blackmarsh) "I could never trust my mother either."
  • (first entering the Blackmarsh Undying) "(Grunts) More talking darkspawn. And now some "Mother" to go along with it? Cute."
  • (On the path toward the village in The Blackmarsh Undying) "Walking around in the magical dream village? I've had enough of this touch-feely head-trip."
  • (Approaching the coffins in the first room of the Shadowy Crypt) "I knew this Fade thing was a bad idea!"

Oghren and Anders[]

  • Anders: You're quite the dirty little dwarf, aren't you?
  • Oghren: And you're quite the dirty little mage.
  • Anders: I do my best. Still, I'm no ale-swilling mountain of belches like you!
  • Oghren: And I'm no winking, slack-jawed coward like you.
  • Anders: True! We should form a club!
  • Anders: You don't actually think your jokes are funny, do you?
  • Oghren: Could have sworn that fly was buzzing again.
  • Anders: "HAR! Let me tell you about my life in one word!" (Belches)
  • Oghren: "Oh no! Don't take me back to the tower! I'm far, far too delicate!"
  • Anders: "I'm not only a dwarf, I'm a moron! Listen to me fart!"
  • Oghren: "Oh no, big templar man! What are you going to do with that sword?"
  • Anders: Eww.
  • Oghren: Don't play with fire unless you want to get burned, son.
  • Anders: I'm just going to assume that something died in your mouth.
  • Oghren: Funny story: dwarf attacks mage. Dwarf wins.
  • Anders: Yeah, I noticed how you pissed in your armor in that last fight. Well done.
  • Oghren: Thank you! I'll be here all week.
  • Oghren: (Grumbles) Women are drawn to you when you play with that cat.
  • Anders: Like moths to a flame. Women like it when men show affection for small, fuzzy, defenseless beings. Like you.
  • Oghren: Stupid... mage. Every time I pull something out of my robes, the women just flee.
  • Oghren: So... mage, huh? What's it like?
  • Anders: To have all this power at my fingertips?
  • Oghren: No. To always have to wear a skirt? (Laughs)
  • Anders: Oh, you don't know the story behind the robes? You know how strict things are in the Circle, right? Of course you do. Well, the robes make quick trysts in the corner easy. No laces or buttons. You're done before the templars catch on.
  • Oghren: Really?
  • Anders: Just ask anyone.
  • Oghren: And people talk about me stinking up the joint!
  • Anders: What are you on about, now?
  • Oghren: Cat piss! Little kitty there makes me want to vomit!
  • Anders: Don't listen to him, Ser Pounce-a-lot! You smell just fine.
  • Ser Pounce-a-lot: (Meow!)
  • Anders: Why did you even want to be a Grey Warden? You thought it would make for great drinking stories?
  • Oghren: I can't believe you survived the Joining.
  • Anders: You got drunk and made a bet, didn't you?
  • Oghren: I bet you I could crush your tiny human skull.
  • Anders: I bet I could drink you under the table.
  • Oghren: You're on!
  • Oghren: What?
  • Anders: What, what?
  • Oghren: You were staring at me, you manskirt-wearing freak.
  • Anders: Oh, I thought you were being attacked by a wild animal. But it was only your beard.
  • Oghren: You think you're so clever, don't you? Sparkle-fingers!

Oghren and Justice[]

  • Justice: You appear to have a preoccupation with beverages, dwarf. Why is that?
  • Oghren: "Beverages?"
  • Justice: I refuse to call them "spirits." It is a humiliating word for your drink.
  • Oghren: Oh, you mean the booze! You should try it!
  • Justice: If it makes one act like you, I think not.
  • Oghren: Your loss!
  • Justice: I attempted to consume one of your beverages.
  • Oghren: Is that so? And how’d it treat you?
  • Justice: It did not treat me any way. It tasted like poison.
  • Oghren: That means you did it right!
  • Justice: You mortals are curious creatures. (Sigh) 
  • Oghren: Now that you have a physical body, what do you plan to do with it?
  • Justice: Serve justice, as I always have.
  • Oghren: I know what I'd do if I suddenly became a complete man.
  • Justice: You are alluding to something. I know not what.
  • Oghren: You can't be that stupid.
  • Justice: We have work to do.
  • Oghren: Technically, you're dead, right?
  • Justice: Yes. Technically.
  • Oghren: How does everything work? How do you grip your sword, for example?
  • Justice: I do not know. I just do. Magic, I suppose.
  • Oghren: And... er... everything works? Everything's intact? All the plumbing?
  • Justice: You are alluding to something. I know not what.
  • Oghren: Oh, come on!
  • Justice: You speak often of bodily functions.
  • Oghren: (Grunts) Not half as often as they happen.
  • Justice: But why this preoccupation? I have a mortal body, yet it provides me no such amusement.
  • Oghren: You have a dead mortal body. Try a living one sometime, and then we'll talk.
  • Justice: Possess a living host? I would never!
  • Oghren: Tough break. Enjoy the corpse love.
  • Oghren: You have memories, right? Kristoff's memories.
  • Justice: Yes.
  • Oghren: And Kristoff was married? You have memories of that, yes?
  • Justice: Yes.
  • Oghren: Aha! So you must know what I'm talking about!
  • Justice: Must I?
  • Oghren: Come on! Kristoff must have buttered the southern pony in his day.
  • Justice: I do not believe Kristoff has ever seen a southern pony, let alone buttered it. What does that even mean?
  • Oghren: (Sigh) Nothing. It means nothing.

Oghren and Nathaniel[]

  • Oghren: The whole "quiet and stoic" thing must get you a lot of action, huh?
  • Nathaniel: I take it you are an admirer, Oghren?
  • Oghren: What? No! No, well not unless--no!
  • Nathaniel: Good. Then I needn't worry about getting too drunk at camp.
  • Oghren: Heh. Okay, I like you. Just not in that way.
  • Nathaniel: My brother used to drink like you do, dwarf.
  • Oghren: Fun fellow to have around then, your brother?
  • Nathaniel: He could find his fun almost anywhere. And then he would vomit on your shoes.
  • Oghren: Ah, good times.
  • Nathaniel: Have you ever thought of returning to Orzammar?
  • Oghren: Not sure I can. Technically, I'm a surface dwarf, now.
  • Nathaniel: Why "technically?" You don't know for certain?
  • Oghren: It's not like they send you a letter. "Congratulations! You have been ejected from the warrior caste!"
  • Nathaniel: Do you care?
  • Oghren: Sometimes. Then I drink more and it goes away.
  • Nathaniel: Allow me to say, ser dwarf, that you are a frightening force on the battlefield.
  • Oghren: Is this a joke? I only let loose that time because I was surprised...
  • Nathaniel: No, it... it was a compliment.
  • Oghren: I don't get many of those.
  • Nathaniel: I don't see why. Your skills are--
  • Oghren: (Belches)
  • Nathaniel: Okay, yes. I think I do see why.
  • Oghren: You're Rendon Howe's little blighter.
  • Nathaniel: That's one way of putting it.
  • Oghren: They talked about you in the army. Fergus Cousland said you wouldn't have the stones to show your face again. But you proved him wrong. I respect that.
  • Nathaniel: You do?
  • Oghren: Yeah. Throw caution to the wind, run headlong into danger, and sod the consequences -- that's the only way to live.
  • Nathaniel: Thanks... I think.
  • Oghren: Yep. Don't you give a piss what the others think. Oghren's got your back.

(Alternate line of "They talked about you in the army" if the Warden-Commander is Orlesian)

  • Oghren: You've certainly got stones, coming back here after your family was disgraced. I respect that.
  • Nathaniel: Were you there when my father was killed?
  • Oghren: (Sigh) Don't go digging in the dust for things laid to rest. It does no one any good.
  • Nathaniel: Whatever people say about him, he was still my father. And I just want to know if he... if he suffered.
  • Oghren: I'm not the person to ask.
  • Nathaniel: (Sigh) Very well, Oghren. Evade the question.
Note: Dialogue varies depending on whether or not The Howe Family quest has been completed
  • Oghren: You know, when your father took over the Arl of Denerim's palace, he moved his bedroom next to the dungeon.
  • Nathaniel: What are you talking about?
  • Oghren: Sounds like someone liked to nip down for a bit of torture before bedtime.
  • Nathaniel: Why are you telling me this?/Delilah did say that Father had begun indulging his darker side...
  • Oghren: Everyone needs daddy issues. Just trying to help.

Oghren and Sigrun[]

  • Oghren: So... you come here often?
  • Sigrun: No, I've never been this close to the surface.
  • Oghren: Well, you're welcome to come with me anytime. A-ny-time.
  • Sigrun: I'm sorry, what?
  • Oghren: The name's Oghren, by the way... but the ladies pronounce it "Ohhh-ghren."
  • Oghren: You remind me of Branka, sometimes.
  • Sigrun: I remind you of your ex-wife, who fed her entire house to darkspawn in search for a magical anvil?
  • Oghren: Yes-- well, no... not when you put it that way.
  • Sigrun: Smooth, Oghren. Real smooth.
  • Sigrun: For all your faults, Oghren, you are a remarkable fighter.
  • Oghren: Really? (Laughs) Let's go 'round the corner so I can show you something else remarkable.
  • Sigrun: It was just a friendly compliment!
  • Oghren: You're friendly. I'm brazen and lustful. We're even!
  • Sigrun: (Sigh)
  • Oghren: So... what are you doing tonight?
  • Sigrun: Sleeping. Alone. With a knife under my pillow.
  • Oghren: (Snickers) Hot.
  • Sigrun: Honestly, Oghren. What's the point? I'm in the Legion of the Dead. Nothing between us will last.
  • Oghren: Exactly! All the fun, none of the commitment!
  • Sigrun: (Groans)
  • Sigrun: Ugh. Oghren, I could light your breath on fire.
  • Oghren: That's not the only thing you could light on fire, saucy lady.
  • Sigrun: (Sigh) Do you ever stop drinking?
  • Oghren: Oh, don't you worry about that. It enhances the Oghren experience. I'm like a cherry soaked in brandy. Plump... juicy... and full of intoxicating flavor.
  • Sigrun: (Chokes)
  • Oghren: Why are you so resistant, woman?
  • Sigrun: I'm not resistant.
  • Oghren: Really? Great! You, me, the bushes. Let's get those branches a-rustling.
  • Sigrun: Sure. Just one question, though...
  • Oghren: Speak your mind, you spicy kumquat.
  • Sigrun: I'm going to prefer women by the time this is over, right?
  • Oghren: Ooh, and she hits below the belt.
  • Oghren: What's it take to get that cold heart beating for Oghren?
  • Sigrun: Not this again.
  • Oghren: Come on, don't tell me you wouldn't like to feel hot blood pumping through those dead Legionnare veins.
  • Sigrun: Oghren. I don't want anything to do with you or the words "hot" and "pumping".
  • Oghren: I'll get through to you, lady. Oghren'll keep ramming up against that armor of yours.
  • Sigrun: Go away. Please. You're embarrassing.
  • Oghren: Hey there, broody. I've got just the thing to cure that pout.
  • Sigrun: (Sigh) Fine, Oghren. You win. Take me. Take me now.
  • Oghren: Er...
  • Sigrun: Why the hesitation? I want a big helping of that secret recipe of Oghren's. Served hot.
  • Oghren: Uh...
  • Sigrun: What? I grew up in the slums of Dust Town. You think I haven't had my fair share of dusters?
  • Oghren: (Sputters)
  • Sigrun: I knew it. You're all talk, Oghren. Deep down, you're scared of women.
  • Sigrun: All right Oghren, let's be serious for once.
  • Oghren: Oghren's gonna get serious all over-
  • Sigrun: Oghren! Why are you constantly so obscene? Do you really like me, or are you just obnoxious?
  • Oghren: What's with women's preoccupations with talking about feelings? Yeah, I like you! I thought it'd be obvious.
  • Sigrun: Well, good. Maybe we should discuss it, and this time, keep the dirty talk for later.

(After Oghren tells Velanna how dwarves are supposedly born, and after she confronts Sigrun about it)

  • Sigrun: Did you tell Velanna that dwarves are born as little rocks?
  • Oghren: No... maybe? Yes? Velanna takes herself too seriously. And come on. It was funny!
  • Sigrun: (Laughs) All right, it was funny. You should have seen her afterwards! She was huffing like a constipated bronto.
  • Oghren: Hot.

Oghren and Velanna[]

  • Velanna: If you must be so close, dwarf, I'd prefer that you turn your head.
  • Oghren: Well, sorry for looking. I can't help that your womanly splendor is at eye level.
  • Velanna: What? I was referring to your --
  • Oghren: Oh, you weren't talking about -- er, what were you talking about?
  • Velanna: Your breath, dwarf. The fell cloud that emanates from your gaping maw.
  • Oghren: (Chuckles) They didn't call me the ladykiller of Orzammar for nothing.
  • Velanna: Tell me about your people, dwarf.
  • Oghren: Well, elf, for starters, we do not like being called "dwarf."
  • Velanna: I apologize. Please tell me about your people, Oghren.
  • Oghren: I'll tell you one thing -- you bony human and elven types have nothing on our women.
  • Velanna: You think I'm bony?
  • Oghren: Yeah. Look at that rump. You call that a rump? A man needs some cushion.
  • Velanna: Why do your people revere the stone so much?
  • Oghren: It's because we come from the Stone. When we come out of our mothers, we're small, round rocks. Pink-streaked rocks are girls, and gray ones are boys. The rocks must be dipped in lava for a few moments each day to keep warm. Every year, a few unlucky parents drop the rock into the lava and can't get it out. Very sad. But do it right, and in a few weeks, the rock cracks open, revealing a bouncing dwarven baby.
  • Velanna: Like... an egg? That can't be right.
  • Oghren: Are you questioning dwarven nature and tradition? I'm insulted. (grunts)
  • Velanna: Is it true that dwarves are dwindling? The darkspawn always at the gates of Orzammar, threatening to overwhelm you?
  • Oghren: Yes. And yes, it's only a matter of time.
  • Velanna: We elves are few in number, and every one of us is precious. But you... you isolate your casteless, forbid them from bearing weapons. And you saw what happened in Kal'Hirol.
  • Oghren: Yes, well. The noble caste has a stick up its collective butt. A stick called "tradition."

(After Oghren tells Velanna how dwarves are supposedly born, and after Velanna confronts Sigrun about it)

  • Oghren: (Groans) Don't say anything. Every noise feels like a rusty nail shoved in my forehead.
  • Velanna: Had a bit too much fun last night? I can help. I had clanmates as bad as you. They used this root as a remedy, powdered and mixed with water. Here.
  • Oghren: Thanks.

(After Oghren receives "remedy")

  • Oghren (in MS Sam voice): What's wrong with you, woman? What was that thing you gave me?
  • Velanna: Just a little something to caution you against telling me more tales about baby rocks.
  • Oghren: I just told you a harmless lie, but you... you... When does the swelling go down? It's throbbing!
  • Velanna: (Laughs)