An Adventurer's Motivation

Seated around the crackling fire whose crackling did nothing to drown out the sound of the howling wind and hammering rain that assaulted the entrance of the cave, the elf, dwarf, and goblin stared at the human seated with them. He ignored the stunned gazes as he bit into a drumstick, the juice running down his chin and into his beard as he chewed.

“Surely my ears must be deceiving me.” The elf finally said, breaking the stillness.

“I figure those pointing things can probably hear the dead, so most likely not.” The human said before taking another bite, a smile playing on his lips.

“Ah, what a masterful wit.” The elf deadpanned. “One evening, you simply must regale us with your repertoire of fanciful tales.”

“If you insist.” The human replied with a chuckle.

“So ‘is ma or pa didn’t croak. ‘Taint all tha’ uncommon among our kind.” The dwarf said before pausing. “Well, ‘tis a smidge unusual ‘mong the likes o’ us, but ‘taint tha only reason ta pick up a blade. ‘Is ‘ome is probably unner a threat, right, laddie?”

“Well, actually, no. Carver’s Crossing is as peaceful as ever, and well-protected to boot.”

“Oh, oh, oh! Mesa knowsn! Mesa knowsn!” The goblin crowed as he mashed together the ingredients in a small stone bowl for his latest potion. “Hesa mustn be tryina getn a mate, righta?”

“I’m married and have been for the last four years.” The human drawled. “So, no.”

“Ah, laddie, you must be needin’ coin fer you and yore bride, aye?”

“Not especially. I had a decent position as the assistant to a shop owner back home. Nothing glamorous or well-paying, but certainly enough to live on.”

“Then a foe must be directly threatening you or yours, rather than your home. Brigands? Cultists? Assassins?”

“No, no, and no. To be honest, I don’t really have any enemies.”

“Laddie, did loss sting yore line?” The dwarf asked with a frown.

“My family and friends are still alive and doing quite well, so, no.” The human set the bone down, picking bits of meat out from between his teeth.

“Then what could possibly be your compelling reason for risking life and limb against monsters and men in lands far removed from your home with no guarantee of fortune or even your return?” The elf asked, brow furrowing.

“An old lady counted out some coppers in front of me.”

The trio fell silent as they all stared at the human before the goblin finally have voice to what was on all of their minds:

“WAT?!”

The human chuckled as he sat back. “Well, it’s not exactly the most thrilling tale, and a tad strange.”

The dwarf glanced towards the storm outside. “Laddie, we’re stuck fer awhile. Spin yore tale.”

“Well, I suppose I never had the fire under my heels that most of my friends had growing up. Oh, sure, I was restless, but it was never the ‘run for the horizon’ restless. I was content with my life and my books. I’d go to the shop, work, come home, and muse what my life would be like elsewhere. Eventually I won the hand of a woman who preferred a quiet life, and that seemed to be that. No true threats ever came close to our little corner of the world, and it was…peaceful.” He tossed the remnants of the drumstick into the fire. “Then, last summer, there was an old woman who came in to haggle over some cloth. It came out to a silver and some coppers, but instead of doing what someone usually does and handing over two coppers so I could give some change, she started digging in her coin purse for the exact price.”

The elf yawned, and the human chuckled.

“Boring, yes, incredibly so.” He admitted, looking into the fire. “But the thing was this woman was excited. But, to her, it was an adventure. Her eyes were ablaze with excitement, and to her, digging out and counting out those few coppers was more of an adventure than discovering an ancient civilization or setting a troll lair ablaze. She was…enthralled.” He spat. “It honestly disgusted me.”

The dwarf frowned, “Yore own kind turned yore stomach, laddie?”

“That’s the thing.” The human admitted. “The more I looked, the less I saw that I had in common with the others around me. Last winter, a couple of my neighbors were laughing because I was clearing snow off the walk and I stated I don’t mind snow. To them, it was more amusing than the best jester in the world. Others would talk about business like it was the love of their life, or as the most obvious questions. Like if fire is hot.”

“Surely you jest?”

The human shook his head in an answer to the elf’s question. “I assure you, I don’t. Every day it seemed like both the questions and the people were getting dumber. Yes, I was safe, but what did it matter? Everyone is just passing time before they die.”

“So ye decided ye wanted ta make yore mark on the world?” The dwarf asked. “Become a legend from yore corner of tha world?”

“Become a legend, becoming known, it doesn’t hold much appeal to me. Having sagas sung about me, plays performed in my honor, or my story penned for all eternity…” He shakes his head. “One of these days, I will be too old to do anything except sit in front of my home and muse on what once was or what could have been. Everyone I see either wants to be rich or known, but I want to simply…be.”

The goblin scrunched up his nose. “Wat?”

“I want to have the memory, undeniable and sure, that I existed. If no one else notices me, if I am never a legend, that isn’t important. If I control my own path, if I seek out challenges and steer my own course through this world not simply following a trail of coins, but rather moments where I can rise up and truly exist, that is what is important to me.” He poked at the fire

“And for that, you would leave behind everything you know?” The elf asked.

The human looked up, meeting his gaze. “Death doesn’t scare me. What scares me is being, and wanting, to be nothing more than a face in the crowd, another person glanced at and forgotten. I will not be nothing. Not now. Not ever.”