This is a random story snippet I was thinking of as I played this great game. It touches on a theme many of us wonder about and has been discussed before: what is up with keys? I hope this thread inspires comments on that topic, and also more chapters in the character's stories.
It had been a lovely day on the Tamoe Highlands, despite all the corrupted rogues everywhere. These verdant fields and moist air were much different than Wulf’s native Frigid Highlands below Mount Arreat. He enjoyed the well-trodden paths to follow, and the sun-warmed rocks to rest upon after fierce battles with undead archers or pesky quill rats. Wulf had even located an intriguing tunnel system that went deep into the rock that comprised the highlands. After considering for a long time what to name it, he dubbed this place “The Pit” and was quite pleased with his creative genius.
With a bit of lamentation he strolled up to an abandoned home, one of many he had seen in this beautiful, but desolate countryside. He saw a few of those orange fallen scurrying about, but a loud roar from the giant man sent them scrambling. Wulf chuckled to himself as he stepped onto the porch and into the house. He began a quick search of the cupboards and bed, finding a few gold pieces, a cracked helm, and a healing potion. Noticing a chest tucked into the corner, he reached down to open it. The lid was securely fastened by an old, ornate lock.
“Locked!” said Wulf aloud to himself. He searched his pack for a key, but could find none. “Not to worry, I shall travel back to the camp and purchase more from Akara!”
Upon arriving back at the Rogue Camp, Wulf strode proudly through the palisade towards the leader of this community, Akara. Passing familiar faces along the way, he shot a wink and smile towards Charsi, and gave a friendly hello to Deckard Cain; the old man started to say something but Wulf just kept walking.
“Hello, Akara!” he greeted the friendly matriarch. “Another fine day of adventuring for me. I need to purchase more keys from you – I found another locked chest.”
Akara gave Wulf a weary smile. “Sorry, young man, but I am all out of keys.”
Wulf felt like a gargantuan beast had smacked him in the chest. “Out of keys?” he exclaimed. “But how could this be?”
“Well,” responded Akara, “you have bought quite a few from me recently, and supplies are limited.”
Wulf stood there perplexed for a moment. “But when will you get more?” he finally asked.
Maintaining great patience, Akara replied, “With Warriv stuck in camp, and the main trading route blocked, likely not for some time. If only someone would help to clear out the Cathedral, routes East would be safe again.” She felt as if she had explained this a hundred times.
“But I found a chest” said Wulf, still confused. “I need a key to open it.”
Akara could not fully stifle her sigh as she said: “I’m surprised you need them at all…”
Wulf looked at her. “What do you mean?”
Akara looked him up and down. “You are an awfully large, strong man. And you have quite a big axe. I’ve often wondered why you bother to buy keys when you could just smash these chests open. For someone who has defeated Blood Raven, the Smith, and all the other monsters as you have, I would think a little wooden chest wouldn’t be so hard to open.”
This stung Wulf’s pride more than he realized. The old woman had a point. “Well… It’s just that… I thought…” He didn’t know what to say.
Akara continued: “And why do I have the keys, anyway? Charsi is the blacksmith; you would think she would be making all the keys your heart desired.”
Wulf conceded to himself that Akara had another good point, but this only confused him further. “I suppose you’re right,” he finally stammered. “Maybe I should just head back out to the wilderness.”
“Yes,” said Akara. “I think that would be wise. Towards the Cathedral, perhaps?”