Game text

902,736 entries

• Perfect. Now you look like a thug!
• Yours is an unusual situation. Most soldiers don't even see their sires after they enter the farhar.
• From where I'm standing, that sounds perfect.
• So we're agreed: my legionnaire will report to you for the duration of this mission.
• It's the only smart choice. Your legionnaire's got the skills, and a personal stake in this.
• Fibharr better be able to help. Your sire always relied on him, but then again Vallus was cagey about what he told people.
• What can you tell me about the Separatists?
• The first step is to find that norn.
• Typical human dead-enders, fighting against the treaty, trying to force us off the land. People so stuck in the past should know it was ours to begin with.
• What's this "Balthazar idol" you found? Why do the Separatists want it?
• Anything else?
• Slow learners need lessons hammered into them until they stick.
• Some magical thing that humans get all reverent over. Balthazar's their "war god," and they think his moldy idol will give them strength. Ha!
• I see. Anything else?
• Now we're getting somewhere. Find that norn, we find your sire.
• Speaking of Captain Thackeray...It doesn't bother you that he's going to Lion's Arch?
• Clement Forktail, traitor, murderer wanted for multiple actions against the Black Citadel. Quite a sire you have.
• He's just another Flame Legion traitor.
• Right now, I'm inclined to agree.
• Maybe the Sons will teach the norn the same lesson Flame taught us. I say we wipe 'em all out.
• I hope we get to hit more norn along the way. That's my kind of party. They're big, so when they fall it takes longer for 'em to hit the ground. But the bigger thud makes it worth the wait.
• That's what happens when these idiots get to worshipping something other than me, the Mighty Maverick. Anyway, sorry your slippery sire ran off again. Luckily, we didn't need his help.
• Well, this is what comes from worshipping fake gods and stuff: idiots make trouble and get themselves killed. Your sire's pretty slippery, isn't he? Running off with the loot like that.
• Hey, cub! If you sneak me a bottle of Black Citadel brandy, I'll make it worth your while.
• With what, compliments? Keep your trap shut, jailbird.
• You made a tough choice. We both have to live with it—that is, if we do live. Either way, just know that I understand.
• All that matters is that justice, and the legions, are served.
• Hey, you're Vallus' cub, right? Can you get word to my cub? Tell her I was framed. Framed!
• Can't help you now. Maybe the jailer will send a bird for you.
• Thank you, sir.
• Thanks, Reeva.
• This is nobody's idea of fun. End it quickly.
• If this weren't a duel to the death, I'd be rooting for both of you.
• Listen. We can't recover the situation right now.
• Your sire's not half-bad once you get to know him, but duty is duty. We're all behind you on this one.
• I'm trembling, truly. You lingering Flame Legion dogs are hardly a threat, just a hitch in our research. Which we'll be getting back to now.
• Well, this could've turned out better, but you made a tough call. I just want to be clear: I would've done the same.
• Thanks, Mav.
• Doesn't matter what you think. It's happening anyway.
• I wish Vallus could've gotten a break, but I understand your choice. Emer was determined to humiliate him and make him suffer before he died.
• I made the choice. It's on me...but thanks.
• This'll reflect on our entire warband. Vallus is our brother, but it's better he dies here and now, like a soldier.
• That's right. Now step aside—I've got ugly work to do.
• This is it, then? Vallus dies here, like some caged animal?
• No, he dies like a soldier: armed and able to fight back.
• This is a loss. And a great one.
• Secure the area.
• On my way, Tribune.
• You'll be sorry you missed it, sir!
• It's over. We failed.