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Middle-of-story NPC, that sage who grants tiny-yet-significant boons from his hideout in plain sight in the village where he's disguised as an ordinary poopsmith. https://twitter.com/jephjacques/status/1282653726424084486
True story: A young man came up to my table at GenCon several years ago and said "Mister Tayler, you are my hero!"
That's a tough one to respond to, so I started with "Thank you. You're very kind."
That's a tough one to respond to, so I started with "Thank you. You're very kind."
Mind racing, my inner sage-wannabe grasping for something—ANYTHING—I could send him away with, I repurposed a bit of writing advice on the fly.
"But I'm not the hero here. This is YOUR story. YOU are the hero. I'm just the weird old guy you were told had the magic thingy you needed, and the fact is, I've got no magic at all. But I'm sure you'll figure something out, because this is your story, and you're the hero in it."
His eyes went wide, his jaw dropped a little, and in that moment I knew two things:
1) I now had a template for the correct response to "you are my hero"
2) That young man was about to SERIOUSLY RUIN A DRAGON SOMEWHERE, and it would be just a tiny bit my fault.
1) I now had a template for the correct response to "you are my hero"
2) That young man was about to SERIOUSLY RUIN A DRAGON SOMEWHERE, and it would be just a tiny bit my fault.
Life's narrative is complex, and imposing an external formula only makes things weird. We're all part of each others' stories, and our roles are ambiguous at best. I won't refuse a walk-on part as a hero, but I'd much prefer being the wise sage who stays out of the line of fire.
Ran out of characters there at the end.
"wise-ass sage," obviously.
"wise-ass sage," obviously.
