A Letter Can Make All the Difference

This blog post is a continuation of the satirical series, “Poking Fun at Fantasy Tropes.” So far, we’ve looked at the tropes of taverns, heroes, mentors, and quests. Now we’re taking a look at one of the main reasons the protagonist survives to see the end of their story (aside from possessing incredibly thick plot armor that they got from their uncle or some other character): Allies.

Now, it may be true that the protagonist is, by definition, the main character. But they can’t carry the story by themselves. They certainly can’t go through it all alone. They’d never reach the final page. The villain and their henchmen (and henchwomen) would overwhelm them, and that’d be the end of that.

Well, hold on, now. The protagonist doesn’t go it alone—they usually have mentors… don’t they?

(Keep in mind that the mentor—traditionally—disappears from the story for a while, right around the third chapter and only reappears after the hero has been forced to meet new people. Or the mentor sacrifices themselves to save the protagonist.)

No, the main character needs allies—people with whom they come into contact in smoke-filled taverns or in their hour of utmost need. As I sit here and type this up, I realize that allies—as well as all the other supporting characters in stories—generally fall into two categories: Expendable and Expandable. A single letter makes all the difference in the world when it comes to these sorts of characters. I’ll touch on the categories briefly. (Sometimes there’s overlap between them, but we’ll get to that later.)

Expendable

These sorts of allies, regrettably and most consistently, appear in stories solely to provide the storyteller with a way to save their main character from certain doom. Hence, the category—expendable. Tragically, these allies often don’t even have names. At least, not ones mentioned in the story itself. If there were credits in such stories—as in movies—they would undoubtedly be listed as “Ally # [Fill in the blank]” or something like that. Regardless, the noble sacrifices of expendable allies keep the hero safe and the story moving along.

Pretty much every unnamed ally in fantasy stories (especially ones where large battles between the forces of good and evil take place) falls into this category. And we rarely notice them because they’re not the focus of the story. They’re expendable.

Expandable

These allies are people who, if the story were being told from another point of view, might be the heroes themselves. They’re expandable. Such individuals might not start off that way in the storyteller’s mind. Perhaps they were even intended to be expendable—mentioned briefly in one scene and gone in the next run-in with the villain’s henchmen (or henchwomen)—but as the story unfolds, they grow into more than what they were originally intended to be. The storyteller can’t just write them out or kill them off. (At least, not without great outcries of rage and frustration. People would notice and they’d be upset.) Those allies are expandable.

Where’s the Overlap?

Well, as I alluded to above, some allies start out in one category and find their way over to the next.

Maybe an ally arrives on the story’s scene shortly after the hero starts their journey—and the storyteller has grand plans of having them reach the final page along with the hero. But several chapters later, the ally gets into a tough spot, perhaps protecting the protagonist from the main villain. And so, in order to highlight that villains do villainous things, the storyteller is forced to kill off their once-expandable, now-expendable, ally. That’s the end of that. By the final page, it’s even possible that the hero and the reader have forgotten that once-important character!

Or maybe something ended up intriguing the storyteller about an ally who was only supposed to appear briefly with a line of dialogue or two before being killed. So, the storyteller decided to give that expendable ally a larger part to play—expanding them from unnamed Ally #3 to Garrow the Swift (or some nonsensical fantasy name like that). And just like that, the story changes. Even if Garrow the Swift were to fall in battle or sacrifice himself to save the hero from certain doom, it would no longer be experienced by the protagonist and reader in the same way. It would mean something.

Some Closing Thoughts

Now, we could go deep down the rabbit hole and ask ourselves why allies—in whatever form they take, whether expendable or expandable—are so integral and commonly used fantasy tropes, but that sounds like a lot of work. (Going down rabbit holes in fantasy stories usually leads to strange places. I guess that’s true of going down rabbit holes in the real world too.)

Instead, I’ll leave you with a few closing thoughts.

While there might be storytelling value in having characters that are expendable, consider, for a moment, the subliminal message being sent. Does wanton violence become commonplace when the hero’s allies are getting cut down left and right? Do we even blink when Ally #24601 appears on the page for the final time? Do we even notice when we turn the page and they’re gone?

I wonder if stories filled with expendable characters further apathy in our own hearts and lives. I wonder if stories filled with expandable characters help us see the people in our lives as more than nameless, faceless individuals. I wonder.

Until next time,

Al