I'll miss the boy. He was always up for a laugh, whether it was at his expense or not. But I would've missed our Clarissa more.
Hargan's the name, by the way. And it's my honour to welcome you to dirty old Sarn, the metropolis of opportunity. The opportunity to make something of yourself or the opportunity to have a very messy death.
— Introduction |
We're not a very chatty bunch at the moment. Missing some doe-eyed lovers, you see. Clarissa and Tolman. The last I saw, they was headed out into the city.
If you feel like helping, keep your eyes peeled if you're out that way, eh? We'd rather like our young 'uns back. They pretty the place up a bit.
— Clarissa |
Now you're a familiar face! A face that cost me a good deal of coin back at the arenas in Theopolis. Took you for a privileged pretty boy with a death wish. Bet all I had against you.
Turns out you're as dandy with a blade as you were with your wardrobe. Maybe now's a good chance to pay me back, Duelist.
We're missing some doe-eyed lovers, Clarissa and Tolman. Last I saw, they were headed out into the city. Do us a favour and keep your eyes peeled when you're out there, eh?
— Clarissa |
A templar... in Exile? Now I've seen it all. Dominus must've run out of honest businessmen to banish and is finally getting to the real criminals.
Ah well, since you're here, your Worship, you might be able to help us out. We've lost some doe-eyed lovers. Clarissa and Tolman. Last I saw, they were headed out into the city.
May God above light your way to their salvation, brother.
— Clarissa |
"You can't catch a Shadow", that's what we honest businessmen were told when considering your services. But here you are. I call that false advertising.
Well, let's see what you can do to polish up that tarnished reputation of yours. We've lost two doe-eyed lovers, Clarissa and Tolman. Last I saw, they were headed out into the city. And I know it's not really part of your job description, but we'd like them alive, please.
— Clarissa |
A shame about the boy. A nice kid. None too smart though. The same can't be said for Clarissa. She's a survivor. Go and make sure she lives up to her reputation, will you?
— Tolman |
A stranger walks into a town with a lost lover in tow. Sounds like the beginning of a jest. Which I wish it bloody were. Problem is, we're still one doe-eyed lover short, which ain't much good to anyone. They tend to come in pairs, you see.
Since you seem to be in the 'good deeds' business, how about throwing a Tolman into the bargain.
— Tolman |
Now you're a familiar face! A face that cost me a good deal of coin back at the arenas in Theopolis. Took you for a privileged pretty boy with a death wish. Bet all I had against you.
Turns out you're as dandy with a blade as you were with your wardrobe. Well, at least you've brought Clarissa back to us. I'll take that as half payment of what I figure you owe me.
Problem is, {one} doe-eyed lover isn't much good to anyone. Like gloves, they tend to be more useful in pairs. The missing glove, in this case, is a young fella named Tolman.
Fetch Tolman back for us and you and I can happily call it quits.
— Tolman |
A templar... in Exile? Now I've seen it all. Dominus must've run out of honest businessmen to banish and is finally getting to the real criminals. Just joking with you, your Worship. In truth, I'm grateful to you for returning Clarissa to us.
Problem is, {one} doe-eyed lover ain't much good to anyone. Like gloves, they tend to be more useful in pairs. The missing glove, in this case, is a young fella named Tolman.
May God above light your way to Tolman's salvation, brother.
— Tolman |
"You can't catch a Shadow", that's what we honest businessmen were told when considering your services. But here you are. I call that false advertising.
Well, at least you've brought Clarissa back to us. That's gone part way to polishing up that tarnished reputation of yours.
Problem is, {one} doe-eyed lover ain't much good to anyone. Like gloves, they tend to be more useful in pairs. The missing glove, in this case, is a young fella named Tolman.
See if you can finish the job, eh? Find Tolman. And I know it's not really in your job description, but we'd like him alive, please.
— Tolman |
You met Grigor yet? You have? Piety made a right mess of that poor bastard. Anyways, he wants to talk to you. Something about a 'Gemling Queen'.
— Grigor |
You met our bard-in-residence yet? No, suppose not. He likes to keep his own company. You'll know why when you see him. Anyways, he wants to talk to you. Muttered something about a 'Gemling Queen', whatever that is.
— Grigor |
I was Clarissa's guardian angel back in Oriath. Put food on her table in return for a bit of light work. I try to keep her out of trouble as best I can here, but Sarn's full of secrets... and Clarissa's full of curiosity.
— Clarissa |
She's just so... ample, is our Maramoa. In my mind you'll find no saucier specimen of womanhood. It's her tattoos and that fancy talk she does. Intoxicating.
She's a cool one though...
— Maramoa |
I can't imagine what that poor bastard's been through. It's a miracle Grigor hasn't completely lost his mind. Granted, he's lost one or two pieces along the way, but there's still plenty that's worth listening to.
— Grigor |
The Slums are east of here. Used to house the unwashed of the Empire a couple centuries back. Now it's home to the walking ulcers and sores of this poor city.
— The Slums |
Stay out of the shadows. They bite.
— The Undying |
Gravicius is the mailed and bloodied right hand of Dominus. And I thought the Templar were meant to be spiritual men of deepest humanity. You noticed the sarcasm in my tone, right?
Had to smuggle a fellow out of Theopolis once. Got a bit too friendly with Gravicius' wife, he did. Every Blackguard was out on the streets looking for him, so I had to think lateral-like. We took to the drains and didn't pop our heads above the pavement until we sniffed the sea. A grubby bloody job it was, but worth it for the coin he paid.
You want a piece of Gravicius? Then sometimes the only way 'up' is 'down'.
— General Gravicius |
Gravicius is the mailed and bloodied right hand of Dominus. And I thought the Templar were meant to be spiritual men of deepest humanity. You noticed the sarcasm in my tone, right?
Had to smuggle a fellow out of Theopolis once. Got a bit too friendly with Gravicius' wife, he did. Every Blackguard was out on the streets looking for him, so I had to think lateral-like. We took to the drains and didn't pop our heads above the pavement until we sniffed the sea. A grubby bloody job it was, but worth it for the coin he paid.
Trust me. The Sewers is the only way you'll sneak up on General Iron-arse. And you'll need a key to get in there. Have a chat to Clarissa about that.
— General Gravicius |
You've done for Gravicius? If only I could get word to that lad I smuggled away from the general's wife at the time. The good widow will need a sympathetic shoulder to cry on.
— General Gravicius |
Piety's off to meet the Maker, is she? I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that little chat.
— Piety |
Victario was a poet what ended up leading a rebellion, right under the nose of Emperor Chitus. But here's what really interests me. Our wordsmith was quite the talented larcenist as well. Pulled off the heist of the century, in the name of the people, of course. Three finely-crafted platinum busts commissioned by Chitus for his favourite trio of generals.
Victario and his cobbers holed up in the sewers. Now that you have Clarissa's keys, perhaps you'd be inclined to search out those heroic busts for me. I'm sure I could make it worth your while.
— Victario |
I'm no history scholar, but I know that Emperor Chitus was overthrown by Voll of Thebrus in the so-called 'Purity Rebellion'. But Voll had the shortest reign of any Eternal Emperor. The cataclysm saw to that.
— The Purity Rebellion |
That's a pretty statuette indeed... If you don't mind, I might pop in there, now that you've done a bit of pest control. A nosey around for anything worth salvaging.
— Victario's Holdfasts |
Two out of three busts, well, it's just not three, is it? Three's a tidy number. Victario's third and final refuge awaits you, my bold business partner.
— Victario's Holdfasts |
The people's poet could hide his spoils from Chitus, but not from us, eh? I knew you was the exile for the job. I'm sure you've been more than compensated already from Victario's stockpiles, but here's a little extra, care of something I found under a dead man's bed. Why? Just because I like you.
— Victario's Holdfasts |
Good to see you're still soldiering on. With all these gods and past horrors wandering around Sarn, I don't assume anyone's alive and kicking these days.
— Greetings |
Quite the pretty pair, aren't they? Yes, pretty bloody disturbing.
That girl was once the sweetest lass I could name. Nowadays she's barking as batshite over that living corpse of hers. All it'd take is a quick, hard bash with a rock and Tolman would no longer be a problem. Tempting, don't you think?
— Clarissa and Tolman |
If Sarn wasn't mad enough, now we've got some whip-tongued hag cooking up a stinking curse in the sewers. Took her for my mother-in-law at first. But no, based on my meagre historical knowledge, I reckon we've a certain Doedre Darktongue to contend with.
Where in blazes she's hiding, I've no idea. So the only way we're going to catch this witch is by getting our hands, and possibly a lot more, well and truly dirty. By 'we', I mean 'you', of course. The sewers are no place for a simple businessman like me.
Do us all a favour. Head into them sewers and track that old hag down. Get her to reveal herself and put her down. Hah... better your eyes than mine, eh?
— Doedre Darktongue |
You'd suppose someone as crafty as Doedre would've kept her ugly head under wraps, soon as she saw you coming. I guess death robs us of many things, including our common sense.
In any case, thank you. The sewers can run clear now that there's no fetid witch clogging up the pipes.
Here, have a little something to commemorate your fine clean-up job.
— Doedre Darktongue |
If you're going to be in the antiquities business, it pays to take note of whatever history you can. High Gardens and the great Emperor Izaro, for instance. Have you heard of the Lord's Labyrinth? The High Gardens were designed by Izaro as a test run for his great work.
He turned his personal garden into a maze and filled it with all sorts of traps and nasty beasties. Convicted criminals were then given a choice. Death or the Garden. If they got through, an imperial pardon was theirs.
Weren't no pardons on record as far as I could see. That's what happens when people have too much time and gold on their hands.
— The High Gardens |
A word of caution. That ankh, it might have had some miraculous powers but I bet there's a nasty reason why Veruso hid the bloody thing away. I've tried to warn Clarissa, but her ears seem as dead as that boyfriend of hers.
— The Ankh of Eternity |
Needing my eclectic expertise again, are we? Solaris and Lunaris got front and center stage among them folks of the Eternal Empire.
Solaris was thought to be the light of leadership, guiding and enlightening each emperor that sat the throne. In practice, most of them emperors turned out to be a bit dim, but then history and theology have never quite seen eye to eye.
As for Lunaris, a goddess of the moon and earth, the mother of dreams and inspiration. Doesn't sound like a bad lady until you consider that dreams harbour nightmares and that inspiration is just one notion shy of insanity.
— Solaris and Lunaris |
I'd thank the gods, but you seem to be taking them out at an alarming rate.
Not that I'm complaining! In my experience, theocracy's never been great for entrepreneurs like me, unless you're in the holy relics business. It's too single-minded. Too orderly. Give me chaos any old day, for it is in chaos that opportunity is bred.
Sarn can get back to its usual state of mayhem and I can get back down to business. Everyone's a winner!
— Solaris and Lunaris |
Powerful baubles them orbs are. As old as the Azmerians themselves, maybe even older. I've read all there is on them little beauties. The Sun Orb's said to contain all that has been, while its sister, the Moon Orb, holds all that will be. Past and future, packed up neat behind glass and thaumaturgy. Shudder to think what might happen if all that got out one day.
— The Orbs of Sun and Moon |
Grigor left without a single word to me, rude bugger, but I suspect his poetic soul has been drawn back home, to Ezomyr. A long journey, but a trek worth taking to find solace among one's own people. Of course, they'll get quite the shock when they see him. Let's hope familial love is as nearsighted as they say!
There're the fine tales Grigor will be able to tell them, of course. Come to think of it, now that Dominus has been knocked off his perch, there's nothing to stop the Ezomytes from learning a thing or two from Grigor's stories. They might even consider invading this jewel in Wraeclast's tarnished crown. I certainly hope they have just such an eye for opportunity... a man could make a tidy sum helping said invaders navigate Sarn and its many hazards.
— Grigor |
What little humanity General Titucius was born with, he traded in for strength. Went as far as to have Malachai replace his joints with virtue gems... mad bastard. Afterwards, Emperor Chitus charged Titucius with subduing the Maraketh, a job he took a little too much pleasure in, if you ask me.
— Hector Titucius |
I heard tell of an ancient Vaal scholar who bore the name 'Yugul'. He'd conduct these grisly experiments in pursuit of some piece of nasty wisdom tucked into the nether regions of human terror. Practiced on young kiddies no less, scaring the living shite out of Vaal toddlers and then nabbing their fear within a hall of thaumaturgical mirrors.
Could be the whole story's a crock, and here's where it gets even hazier. Seems old Yugul found something in that fear, enough to scare a whole swag of Vaal into worshipping him.
Honestly, some people will worship anything for a bit of spiritual peace of mind.
— Yugul |
So it was that bloody scholar after all, was it? Sick bastard. Well, he's gone now, and I hope you made sure he suffered like those poor kids he tormented. I'd've toasted him nice and slow like a spitted pig, see how he'd like them apples stuffed in his mouth.
Here, have something for keeping us safe from the divine undesirables in this world.
— Yugul |
Tell me something. Any chance you might be willing to join forces and turn a healthy profit with old Hargan? You ever heard of the Wings of Vastiri? Not just another damned artefact. This one was the highest symbol of office for the Maraketh, held by the "Sekhema of Sekhemas". History books say the Wings were last worn by Sekhema Asenath, the Golden Sekhema... the one who went and got herself murdered by Hector Titucius.
The only problem is that Titucius himself is up and guarding his pretties once more. Still, if you can recover those Wing of Vastiri then I'm confident I can sell them back to the Maraketh for a fair sum. They're a cultural icon after all, dripping with sentimental value.
What do ya say?
— The Wings of Vastiri |
You found them! No easy feat, I'll bet. How's old Hector these days? Not so good after you crossed paths with him, am I right? I'll polish these wings up and get them back to their owners just as soon as my Maraketh friend can get her folks to pay the ransom... ahem, price, I mean.
In the meantime, take a little something from my stock as payment.
— The Wings of Vastiri |
Well, they're forged from solid gold, I can tell you that much. But I suppose that's not really what you're asking about.
The wings are a treasured piece of the Maraketh heritage. Back when the tribes quit their squabblings and joined hands to battle the Eternal Empire, the wings were seen as a symbol of their unity. The Golden Sekhema wore them as she led the whole bloody Maraketh horde against Sarn. She was the single greatest hope for the Maraketh, was that Asenath.
Hector Titucius crushed both their hopes and their precious sekhema.
— The Wings of Vastiri |
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