A soldier of the small-statured dwarves, Gustav is a veteran who protected the cave that was their sacred grounds, where lie precious artifacts dating back to antiquity. As he constantly thinks about the future of his scarcely-populated race, and remonstrates the youths who wish to head towards the battlefield, he was nicknamed the "Father of the Dwarves". When he excavated the Automata, relics from the past, he couldn't control them and had to borrow the royal army's power before managing to close the incident.
You hear someone speak, but there is no one in sight. Rising from your chair and casting your gaze downward, you catch sight of Gustav, father of the dwarves.
"Hmmph, sorry for being so small."
You apologize to the pouting Gustav, and move to where you can see him.
"Well, I guess that's the fate of the dwarf. But we're pretty agile because of our small size, I'll have you know."
Absently stroking his beard, Gustav narrows his eyes. Those eyes had witnessed many a battlefield. He'd been through enough battles to have earned the moniker "Father of the Dwarves." Anyone judging him by his appearance would surely pay a heavy price.
"I may be an old fool, but I've accumulated a fair bit of knowledge over the years. I won't be a burden to you."
With that, Gustav grins and begins to tell you the true purpose of his visit--the conflict with the monsters.
Quite a crafty old man, you think to yourself.
Gustav #2 :
"There are a lot of dwarves here now, aren't there?"
Gustav speaks the truth. The army had grown, and dwarves form a sizable contingent of it.
"I'm happy that my kind are increasing in number, and that they're eager to do battle... but also sad as well."
Gazing at his glass, Gustav lowers his eyes sorrowfully.
"There weren't that many of us dwarves to begin with. Now our people are scattered everywhere, and thanks to the monsters, there's no telling how many are left... With the battles still ahead of us, the number of us out there, including our young, will surely decline."
Gustav stares at the palms of his hands. There's nothing sadder than having others die before you. Gustav continues to voice his concerns.
"Well, chances are you're going to outlive me. I reckon that I could safely entrust the future of the dwarves to you."
You tell Gustav that is pretty self-centered of him, and he laughs heartily.
"That's not too much to ask, is it?"
Very impressive, you think, letting out a wry smile.