Game text

902,736 entries

• What's wrong with the dredge?
• What's bothering you about Sons of Svanir?
• These camps send dolyak caravans to provide supplies to the surrounding areas.
• Smell that air. You won't find a better, fresher smell in all of Tyria.
• Ugh, is that dolyak droppings and rotting logs?
• Yeah, that does smell good. Take care.
• Raven's beak, you're joking, right? Those lousy moles won't be happy until they dig us out from under all of our land.
• They won't be crazy enough to tunnel under Hoelbrak. We'd crush them.
• Let them try. We'll pound them so deep, they'll never see daylight.
• So, what's this about the Sons of Svanir?
• Bah, they're no big deal.
• I know the rule: as long as they don't cause problems in Hoelbrak, they're welcome like brothers. Yet they praise the dragon that drove us south and butchered our ancestors. It sickens me.
• I follow the Spirits. I'll never let a dragon guide me.
• What's the problem with the dredge?
• You're giving them too much credit, friend. I've heard their workers' songs. They don't share, they conquer and kill for their greater good.
• We'll keep an eye out for them then. Take care.
• I like your fire, friend. I'm ready to fight them on the surface or under the ground.
• What's wrong with the Sons of Svanir?
• And I'll be there with you.
• Good to hear, friend. Dragons aren't around to be admired. They're here to be slain. Them, and their crazed followers. Remember that, and you'll be a legend one day.
• What's this about the dredge?
• I'll remember that.
• This is Horncall Gather. Consider it a rest stop in between the valley to the south and Hoelbrak up to the west.
• Thanks, but what about that smell?
• Ah, that's the rich, heady smell of life, friend. No industrial smokestacks to pollute it, no city walls to block it out. It's perfect.
• What else is around here, besides that smell?
• I need to wipe my feet or I'll track this life everywhere.
• Mortar Deploy
• Clear the roadblock built by the Sons of Svanir.
• Roadblock
• If corrupted plants infect the wall, they'll weaken it, so destroy them. Bring back any tools you find, and reignite the tunnel's lamps to fend off undead. And if you see undead, kill them.
• You want to use our road? It'll cost you. Ten gold.
• You don't own the road. I won't pay.
• Oh, you'll pay! One way or another.
• Brr. Hey, is it already this cold around here? Maybe I should have stayed in Divinity's Reach.
• You're not norn. What are you doing so far from home?
• Yeah, sounds like you are out of luck.
• You have to help me. Some thugs blocked off the pass. They said they'd kill me if I tried to cross without paying them.
• Thugs? Sounds like the Sons of Svanir.
• I'll take care of this.
• You're on your own.
• Thanks. I'm no warrior, but they look tough. Be careful.
• Further—damage—sustained. Structural—integrity—at—50—percent. Feelings: hurt.
• You got a sharp eye, don't you? Man, I packed the wrong boots for my trip across Tyria. I don't know how anyone survives living here.
• Travelling across Tyria isn't for the weak. You should have planned better.
• How far have you travelled?
• Another time. I have to go.
• Yeah, well, it was a last-minute thing. I'm not like the norn around here. I couldn't just pick up and go, even though it looks like I had no choice.
• Slow down. What are you doing around here?
• Not interested in your story.