Saqi - Dimraeth NPC

Field	Value
Internal ID	Saqi
Official name	Saqi

Dialogue — Greetings

Saqi: Aye! Welcome back, what can I get for you? Saqi: Aye! What can I get for you? Saqi: As you approach, Saqi stops what she’s doing and strides over with purpose.

There you are. I’ve been hunting for you.

Her eyes flick over you once, quick and appraising, then a smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth.

Word is you’ve been cutting goblins down like they owe you coin. Good. Earlwood needs that.

You’ve got a minute, don’t you? There’s something I want to put in front of you.

Dialogue — General

Saqi: I’ll be straight with you, it’s a rough situation.

Too many mouths, not enough stores. And the roads aren’t steady. I can stretch a pot only so far before it turns into thin water.

Her jaw tightens, then she steadies it.

We’re doing everything we can to keep people fed and keep panic from spreading, but it’s hard. Saqi: Exactly. That’s always been the Earlwood way, nobody gets left outside the door.

Earlwood’s always been welcoming. Always.

It’s changed since I was a child, more new faces, fewer old habits, but that welcome never left. Not while I’ve got anything to say about it. Saqi: No. That’s not how we do things here. This isn’t the Empire of Xwin, or worse.

Earlwood’s always been welcoming. Always.

It’s changed since I was a child, more new faces, fewer old habits, but that welcome never left. Not while I’ve got anything to say about it. Saqi: Exactly. If we’re going to survive, we take help where it comes. Everyone brings their own kind of strength.

We’re going to need strength to get through this. Blades and shields, aye, but patience too. Hands. People willing to carry more than their share for a while.

There are so many new faces now. I used to look around Earlwood and know I’d seen everyone at my tavern at least once. I knew their drink, their temper, who needed a quiet corner and who needed cutting off.

Now I look around and see people I don’t know yet, all of them hungry and scared, every one needing something.

It’s hard to balance care for the new folk with making sure our own are safe too. I feel responsible for all of them, but I don’t want the people closest to me paying the price for every shortage. Saqi: We’ve had our share of hard times. That’s true anywhere.

We don’t have a true army, and we aren’t allowed one. So we make do, guild hands, village hands, and stubbornness.

We’re going to need strength to get through this. Blades and shields, aye, but patience too. Hands. People willing to carry more than their share for a while.

There are so many new faces now. I used to look around Earlwood and know I’d seen everyone at my tavern at least once. I knew their drink, their temper, who needed a quiet corner and who needed cutting off.

Now I look around and see people I don’t know yet, all of them hungry and scared, every one needing something.

It’s hard to balance care for the new folk with making sure our own are safe too. I feel responsible for all of them, but I don’t want the people closest to me paying the price for every shortage. Saqi: Aye. Earlwood born and bred.

My parents left Barakthrum before I was born. They wanted a life away from the dwarven cities, and they found it here.

I’ve always been curious about Barakthrum, but once you leave, you don’t just stroll back in. Outsiders aren’t welcome, dwarf or not. Saqi: Aye. I’ll follow my gut. I’ll do what I can for everyone, but I won’t pretend those closest to me don’t matter most. Saqi: Aye, that’s the common answer. Fair, clean, sensible. Still doesn’t sit easy in the chest. Saqi: No. That’s cruelty dressed up as sense. People aren’t tools to be kept only while useful. Saqi: Me? Ha. Usually, I run the Earlwood tavern. She’s called The Hearth at Road’s Edge, though most folk just say Road’s Edge.

My father opened it, and it passed down to me. I’ve had my hands on those tables since I was tall enough to see over them.

But lately, the tavern’s had to share me. I’ve been helping here at the Guild. Tracking supplies, sorting who needs what, making sure the fighters can keep their eyes on the fight. Saqi: Aye, most of them since I was a child. Since I was knee-high to Eldorian, if you can picture that.

Everyone here is like family to me.

I used to see it after the fights and hunts. Alaric would bring the others to Road’s Edge, even though he never had much taste for noise. Corin either. Those two could brood a hole through a wall if you left them alone long enough.

But the rest? They needed the warmth. Drinks on the table, stories growing taller with every telling, someone laughing too loud, someone pretending they weren’t near tears.

That was the point of it. Not the ale. The coming back. Saqi: Quite the opposite. A drink and a tale are part of how people stand back up after a fight.

Everyone here is like family to me.

I used to see it after the fights and hunts. Alaric would bring the others to Road’s Edge, even though he never had much taste for noise. Corin either. Those two could brood a hole through a wall if you left them alone long enough.

But the rest? They needed the warmth. Drinks on the table, stories growing taller with every telling, someone laughing too loud, someone pretending they weren’t near tears.

That was the point of it. Not the ale. The coming back. Saqi: They were. And they will be again, if I have anything to say about it. Saqi: Then you’ve never had the right people at your table. Shame, that. Saqi: Heimen? Now there’s a fine dwarf, if ever I saw one.

Her eyes brighten a little too quickly, and she busies one hand as if it suddenly needs something to do.

He’s one of my favourite folk. Not counting Earlwood natives, of course. Before all this chaos, he’d pass through Earlwood a few times a year. When he stayed, he’d sing most nights at Road’s Edge. Terrific stuff.

And after closing, he’d often stay behind. We’d talk a while. Nothing grand. Just talk. Saqi: Aye, you have my word on that. Heart of gold, that one.

We talked about Barakthrum often. More than I meant to, most nights.

Heimen is stone-born. Born in the mountain halls, raised among the people I’ve only known through stories. Then he chose to leave, chasing ‘the Truth, Beauty, and the Good.’ His words, not mine.

She folds her arms, but there is more fondness than defence in it.

The price is that he can never go back. Dwarven gates don’t open twice for those who leave.

So there we were. Him missing a home he knew, me missing one I never had. Strange pair, aren’t we? Saqi: Aye, he can be a bit enigmatic. You’ll get used to him in time.

We talked about Barakthrum often. More than I meant to, most nights.

Heimen is stone-born. Born in the mountain halls, raised among the people I’ve only known through stories. Then he chose to leave, chasing ‘the Truth, Beauty, and the Good.’ His words, not mine.

She folds her arms, but there is more fondness than defence in it.

The price is that he can never go back. Dwarven gates don’t open twice for those who leave.

So there we were. Him missing a home he knew, me missing one I never had. Strange pair, aren’t we? Saqi: Odd? Ha. He’s a poet, of course he is.

We talked about Barakthrum often. More than I meant to, most nights.

Heimen is stone-born. Born in the mountain halls, raised among the people I’ve only known through stories. Then he chose to leave, chasing ‘the Truth, Beauty, and the Good.’ His words, not mine.

She folds her arms, but there is more fondness than defence in it.

The price is that he can never go back. Dwarven gates don’t open twice for those who leave.

So there we were. Him missing a home he knew, me missing one I never had. Strange pair, aren’t we? Saqi: Aye. But there’s joy in it too. Every story gives me a piece I didn’t have before.

The culture of my people has always fascinated me.

My father used to tell me dwarven bedtime stories. Forges of Barakthrum. Rivers of lava. Iron Guardians in enchanted plate, head to toe, so thick you might mistake them for golems.

Her smile softens, then fades a little.

After he passed, there were no stories for a while. Not like that.

Then Heimen came along with more than I knew what to do with. Songs, histories, old sayings, arguments about beauty that lasted past midnight.

And I’ll be the first to say it, he’s a better storyteller than my old pa. Don’t tell my father’s ghost I said that. Saqi: Sentiment? No. It’s roots. You can stand taller when you know what you’re standing on.

The culture of my people has always fascinated me.

My father used to tell me dwarven bedtime stories. Forges of Barakthrum. Rivers of lava. Iron Guardians in enchanted plate, head to toe, so thick you might mistake them for golems.

Her smile softens, then fades a little.

After he passed, there were no stories for a while. Not like that.

Then Heimen came along with more than I knew what to do with. Songs, histories, old sayings, arguments about beauty that lasted past midnight.

And I’ll be the first to say it, he’s a better storyteller than my old pa. Don’t tell my father’s ghost I said that. Saqi: Aye, doesn’t it? If they ever open those damn gates, I’ll be first through. Saqi: Nothing’s impossible, dearie.

Dialogue — MQ71

Saqi: The young dwarf’s eyes widen upon hearing Corin’s name

Corin, he’s alive? Thank the Principles. Corin was right to send you to me. We’re badly short on supplies, and shorter on hunters. Would you go out and gather some? I know you’ve already been asked for so much, and I’ve heard how much you’ve helped. Saqi: Thank you! I’ll pay ya back one day, I swear it.

She raises her hand to her chin in a thinking pose, more theatrical than the moment needs.

Right! So we need something to eat and something to mend… Wolf meat and apples will do for the food, and for mending, we will need some tender-berries. If you can get out there and collect those from the farmlands and forest, you can deliver them straight to their camp. Saqi: I know it wears on ya. But this town never forgets what it owes, and we can’t do it without you.

She raises her hand to her chin in a thinking pose, more theatrical than the moment needs.

Right! So we need something to eat and something to mend… Wolf meat and apples will do for the food, and for mending, we will need some tender-berries. If you can get out there and collect those from the farmlands and forest, you can deliver them straight to their camp. Saqi: Thank you! I really ought to get back to cooking for these refugees, but please come back again sometime, it would be nice to get to know you when we have a moment. Saqi: Sorry to rush ya, but you know they might not hold out forever. We need your help. Please consider it. Saqi: I’ve known him since we were both kids; we grew up together. He may seem like a grumpy one, he is that dark and moody type, but he’s got just as warm a heart as anyone. You can probably see by now that Earlwood has quite a few hardnose types with a warm interior. I love ’em all. Saqi: Her eyes fill with hope as a genuine smile spreads across her face

Thank you so much for your help! I knew there were still good people amidst all this chaos.

Dialogue — SQ1

Saqi: Good. Here’s the shape of it.

Things are starting to settle down out there. Goblins pushed back, the forest line quieter. Some of us have to stop holding our breath and start planning.

Her eyes sweep the room, attentive to faces and needs, like she’s counting plates before a rush.

If we want Earlwood happy and healthy again, we need the farmlands back under our control. Food back in the stores where it belongs, and work that leads somewhere.

I can stretch stew and shuffle beds for a while. That isn’t a future, though. Just a delay before the next panic.

A sour thought crosses her face.

And we both know the mayor isn’t going to do it. He sealed the gate when the refugees came, then called that ‘order.’

So it falls to us. The ones who actually show up. Saqi: Ha. Then I’ll waste none of it, Goblin-Slayer.

Things are starting to settle down out there. Goblins pushed back, the forest line quieter. Some of us have to stop holding our breath and start planning.

Her eyes sweep the room, attentive to faces and needs, like she’s counting plates before a rush.

If we want Earlwood happy and healthy again, we need the farmlands back under our control. Food back in the stores where it belongs, and work that leads somewhere.

I can stretch stew and shuffle beds for a while. That isn’t a future, though. Just a delay before the next panic.

A sour thought crosses her face.

And we both know the mayor isn’t going to do it. He sealed the gate when the refugees came, then called that ‘order.’

So it falls to us. The ones who actually show up. Saqi: Love the eagerness. You’re a gem. Alright, listen.

With fierce determination in her eyes, she slams her fist into the palm of her hand.

Good. Then here’s the first move.

There’s a mountain of work ahead. Granaries to retake. Supply lines to rebuild. Outside help, defences, all of it.

Her smirk returns, like she’s already placed the first marker on a map.

But charging blind gets us nothing. We start with information, and with something we can actually carry home.

I’ve been talking to the farmers from Haylor’s Mill who made it out. When the Haylors abandoned the mill, they arranged for their old logbook to be delivered here, along with a cache of goods. Food, mostly. Maybe clothes.

The caravan never arrived. Goblins hit it before it could reach us. It’s out there in the farmlands somewhere.

We find the logbook, and we find the cache.

Bring me those two things. Nothing else. Saqi: Ha. Fair. I’m getting there. Just making sure you feel the weight of it.

With fierce determination in her eyes, she slams her fist into the palm of her hand.

Good. Then here’s the first move.

There’s a mountain of work ahead. Granaries to retake. Supply lines to rebuild. Outside help, defences, all of it.

Her smirk returns, like she’s already placed the first marker on a map.

But charging blind gets us nothing. We start with information, and with something we can actually carry home.

I’ve been talking to the farmers from Haylor’s Mill who made it out. When the Haylors abandoned the mill, they arranged for their old logbook to be delivered here, along with a cache of goods. Food, mostly. Maybe clothes.

The caravan never arrived. Goblins hit it before it could reach us. It’s out there in the farmlands somewhere.

We find the logbook, and we find the cache.

Bring me those two things. Nothing else. Saqi: What do I think? I think he’s a soft-handed lout with a fine name and no backbone.

He sealed the gate on frightened people and acted like he’d done something brave.

That’s not leadership. That’s hiding behind wood and iron while other folks pay the bill. Saqi: Because he doesn’t understand where food and shelter come from.

He doesn’t value the mind and labour that build them, because he’s never had to keep anything running himself.

So when pressure hits, he reaches for the easiest lever. Close the gate and quiet the noise. Then pretend the problem is outside. Saqi: Onward, then. And for what it’s worth, my money’s on you. Saqi: Ah, don’t give me that. Think it through. You know what you need to do. Saqi: Because it tells me where to grab relief first, without guessing.

Rumour’s always been that old man Haylor kept a proper record. His own stock, and the whole stretch of farmland with it. Who had what, where it was stored, what could be moved. They used it to win trades.

For us, it means I’ll know which stores were fullest and best protected before the goblins moved in. If anything is still there, we’ll find it faster, and we’ll stop bleeding time. Saqi: That’s the trick of it. This isn’t the first time goblins have tried to starve us out.

After a few hard lessons, the big families started making deliveries goblin-proof. Reinforced, sealed, preserved.

If we find it, it’ll be waiting for us whole, just like they intended. No pile of scraps. Saqi: The Haylors? There’s a lot to say, and most of it is dull.

They’re one of the four major Earlwood families. They’ve held the farmlands since the founding, and they know it.

Influence, coin, and a long memory. That’s the Haylors. Saqi: Saqi’s eyes light up at the news of food.

Look at you. Great work.

I knew I could count on you. With this, I can finally start putting order back into things.

Tell me. Any trouble out there? Saqi: Ha. Of course they aren’t. Give me a little time. I’ll have a plan when you come back. Saqi: Still, you got it done. I won’t forget that. Give me a little time. I’ll have a plan when you come back.

About this data

Dialogue scripts use the game’s official English text. Data compiled from official in-game sources. Names, descriptions and effects use the game’s own English text. Stats reflect the current game version and may change with updates.