You are not a cockroach. Strange... inundated with cockroaches, I am. Black ones, four limbs, nasty, spiky things. Are you spiky? If so, my Ribbons will pluck your spines.
Malachai liked spines. Liked {my} spine. Pretty spine, bejeweled and bountiful. Enough to make an empire weep.
Do you weep, Not-a-Cockroach? I do. Tears are infinite. Why, on this very day, I have found a new reason to cry.
— Introduction |
The Ribbons are order. Clean and polish. Serve and protect.
Then those cockroaches crawled in, swarmed through the cracks. The Ribbons' Spool is taken. {Stolen}. The black ones want them, my Ribbons. Want to wrap the city in black Ribbons.
Find the Spool, Not-a-Cockroach. Look to my doorstep, where the Ribbons crush cockroaches yet. Bring the Spool, and I will find gratitude for you.
— The Ribbon Spool |
What is that you have, Not-a-Cockroach? My Ribbon Spool! Those black ones wanted them, my Ribbons. Wanted to wrap the city in black Ribbons.
Now they are {my} ribbons forever more. Forever more... I hate forever. I could tear 'happy ever after' from bards' bleeding tongues!
You're still here, Not-a-Cockroach? Oh, gratitude, yes. I should give you a token. Token... what token? This? Is this to your liking?
— The Ribbon Spool |
They are {my} ribbons forever more. Forever more... I hate forever. I could tear 'happy ever after' from bards' bleeding tongues!
You're still here, Not-a-Cockroach? Oh, gratitude. Yes, I should give you a token. A token. What token? This? Is this to your liking?
— The Ribbon Spool |
The cockroaches will come again. They want the Twist. That cockroach emperor... the other bugs shout his name. {Gravicius}. Cross the river, squash the emperor cockroach in his nest.
The bridge? It is barricaded? That spawns a tricky question. Questions, questions... I asked too many questions. Chitus told me so. I asked where it all went. Our... feculence. He made them show me. Under the river, the sewers from this side to that. Filthy, fetid tunnels, like a rhoa's cloaca.
A black place, crawling with the Undying. Once beautiful and arrogant Gemlings, now the foul waste of the Empire. Fitting, isn't it? Apt, apt, apt.
— The Sewers |
I like you, Not-a-Cockroach. I like that you listen. It would annoy me, if the Undying murdered you.
Thaumetic Sulphite. That's what you need. A nasty, nasty substance, it is. Malachai had his slaves mine it, carry it from northern mountains to the refinery by the docks. Ezomytes, Maraketh, Karui... it killed them all. Fevered the blood and scorched the mind.
But you are clever, Not-a-Cockroach. You will keep it at arm's length. You will bring it to me, so that I may make you something, an Infernal Talc that will bring furious light to Undying darkness.
— Thaumetic Sulphite |
You have Thaumetic Sulphite? You are a resourceful Unbug, now aren't you? Give it to me. I was all eyes and ears when Malachai worked. I know exactly what to do.
— Thaumetic Sulphite |
I like you, Not-a-Cockroach. I like that you listen. It would annoy me if the Undying murdered you.
Thaumetic Sulphite. That's what you need.
You have some already? You are a resourceful Unbug, now aren't you? Give it to me. I was all eyes and ears when Malachai worked. I will make something of your Thaumetic Sulphite. I will forge an Infernal Talc that will bring the most furious of light to the Undying darkness.
— Thaumetic Sulphite |
A dash of arcanity, a pinch of insanity, a whisper of profanity, and the Infernal Talc is now ready.
— Infernal Talc |
It's the most explosive of powders. A sprinkle, the gentlest of dustings of Infernal Talc will provoke gems to a molten rage. For the Undying, the very sun will rise within their flesh.
They will burn for their sins, Not-a-Cockroach. They will burn!
— Infernal Talc |
I loved Malachai. He gave me gems, divine jewels for his Gemling Queen. For his {dead} Queen. But I didn't want me dead! Malachai begged: for him, for the Empire. I chose me... selfish me. The Empire died, and I live. I live, and live, and live, and live.
— Malachai |
I was the emperor's favourite, for a time. But Chitus had many favourites. He filled the Sceptre of God with favourites. Every now and then, he cleared away the clutter. Those who pleased him, they were given to his lords and generals. Those who did not... were given to his thaumaturgists.
I talked too much, asked too many difficult questions. I was gifted to Malachai. My dear, troubled Malachai.
— Chitus |
The Gravicius cockroach is no more. Another emperor crushed underfoot. That's what happens to emperors. What always happens. They never learn.
— General Gravicius |
How singularly remarkable you are, Not-a-Cockroach! Look at you, practically exuding a legendary nature. Easily the most wondrous thing I've seen in a long, long time. Not that I've seen a great deal, apart from the innards of this temple, this comfortable tomb... but I think you have proven yourself worthy, worthy of Malachai's crowning achievement: the Eternal Laboratory.
You are wise and fearless in {this} world, Not-a-Cockroach. Allow the Eternal Laboratory to return to you the gift of terrifying innocence.
— DiallaMaps |
Is that Thaumetic Sulphite you carry, Not-a-Cockroach? Be careful with that. It is a most caustic substance. I don't care to see your face melt from your skull.
— Thaumetic Sulphite |
You have mounted the summit of the Empire, Not-a-Cockroach. You have crushed the bug emperor and wiped his maggot dreams from the skin of Wraeclast.
Dominus exiled you, naked and alone, unto the palm of Death. But you would not die, would you?
No, no... you cuddled Death, promised it the world, made it your courtesan and so generously shared it with all your fleeting friends here in Wraeclast.
Not once did you forget what you were. Not a cockroach feeding on the corpse of a dead empire, like the pests you crushed as you walked.
A man. The sort of man that planted the seed of this Empire right here in Sarn, so long ago.
What teetering and twisted life it still holds dear, this land owes to you, Shadow.
— Dominus |
You have mounted the summit of the Empire, Not-a-Cockroach. You have crushed the bug emperor and wiped his maggot dreams from the skin of Wraeclast.
Dominus exiled you, naked and alone, unto the palm of Death. But you would not die, would you?
No, no... you cuddled Death, promised it the world, made it your consort and so generously shared it with all your fleeting friends here in Wraeclast.
Not once did you forget what you were. Not a cockroach feeding on the corpse of a dead empire, like the pests you crushed as you walked.
A woman. The sort of woman that planted the seed of this Empire right here in Sarn, so long ago.
What teetering and twisted life it still holds dear, this land owes to you, Witch.
— Dominus |
You have mounted the summit of the Empire, Not-a-Cockroach. You have crushed the bug emperor and wiped his maggot dreams from the skin of Wraeclast.
Dominus exiled you, naked and alone, unto the palm of Death. But you would not die, would you?
No, no... you cuddled Death, promised it the world, made it your disciple and so generously shared it with all your fleeting friends here in Wraeclast.
Not once did you forget what you were. Not a cockroach feeding on the corpse of a dead empire, like the pests you crushed as you walked.
A man. The sort of man that planted the seed of this Empire right here in Sarn, so long ago.
What teetering and twisted life it still holds dear, this land owes to you, Templar.
— Dominus |
You have mounted the summit of the Empire, Not-a-Cockroach. You have crushed the bug emperor and wiped his maggot dreams from the skin of Wraeclast.
Dominus exiled you, naked and alone, unto the palm of Death. But you would not die, would you?
No, no... you cuddled Death, promised it the world, made it your conquest and so generously shared it with all your fleeting friends here in Wraeclast.
Not once did you forget what you were. Not a cockroach feeding on the corpse of a dead empire, like the pests you crushed as you walked.
A man. The sort of man that planted the seed of this Empire right here in Sarn, so long ago.
What teetering and twisted life it still holds dear, this land owes to you, Duelist.
— Dominus |
You have mounted the summit of the Empire, Not-a-Cockroach. You have crushed the bug emperor and wiped his maggot dreams from the skin of Wraeclast.
Dominus exiled you, naked and alone, unto the palm of Death. But you would not die, would you?
No, no... you cuddled Death, promised it the world, made it your loving pet and so generously shared it with all your fleeting friends here in Wraeclast.
Not once did you forget what you were. Not a cockroach feeding on the corpse of a dead empire, like the pests you crushed as you walked.
A woman. The sort of woman that planted the seed of this Empire right here in Sarn, so long ago.
What teetering and twisted life it still holds dear, this land owes to you, Ranger.
— Dominus |
You have mounted the summit of the Empire, Not-a-Cockroach. You have crushed the bug emperor and wiped his maggot dreams from the skin of Wraeclast.
Dominus exiled you, naked and alone, unto the palm of Death. But you would not die, would you?
No, no... you cuddled Death, promised it the world, made it your conquest and so generously shared it with all your fleeting friends here in Wraeclast.
Not once did you forget what you were. Not a cockroach feeding on the corpse of a dead empire, like the pests you crushed as you walked.
A man. The sort of man that planted the seed of this Empire right here in Sarn, so long ago.
What teetering and twisted life it still holds dear, this land owes to you, Marauder.
— Dominus |
You have mounted the summit of the Empire, Not-a-Cockroach. You have crushed the bug emperor and wiped his maggot dreams from the skin of Wraeclast.
Dominus exiled you, naked and alone, unto the palm of Death. But you would not die, would you?
No, no... you cuddled Death, promised it the world, made it your consort and so generously shared it with all your fleeting friends here in Wraeclast.
Not once did you forget what you were. Not a cockroach feeding on the corpse of a dead empire, like the pests you crushed as you walked.
A woman. The sort of woman that planted the seed of this Empire right here in Sarn, so long ago.
What teetering and twisted life it still holds dear, this land owes to you, Scion.
— Dominus |
Of course, there will be more. You know that, don't you? Emperors. Avaricious little pests scrabbling to steal the legacy of their betters. Unless we burn that legacy, sear its infection from the flesh of existence.
Go north, my lovely Unbug. Go to Highgate, to the beginning of the end.
Dive headlong into the nightmare sea. Catch and roast yourself a nice, big fishy.
— Highgate |
The time has come, Not-a-Cockroach, to crawl up into the bowels of this Nightmare, traverse its innards, and rip out its corrupted heart!
Oyun will help us. Go on now. Hob nob with the Maraketh matriarch. Learn what needs to be learned, and quickly.
There's a filthy darkness down in that mountain and it's reeking with impatience to meet you.
— Oyun |
The Rapture is our hope. Our desperation. It will set the Nightmare to boil, cook that nice big fishy in its own whining brine.
Listen with all of your ears, Not-a-Cockroach. The Rapture was Malachai's most wondrous creation, the only fire hot enough to burn the Beast from existence.
And its fuel? A gemling queen, blood and flesh and gem. Yet my selfish self did not want to burn away, and so the fire was but a tiny spark. The spark of a cataclysm.
I am sorry, my love, my Malachai.
Go to it, Not-a-Cockroach. Find the Rapture. Make me sorry no more.
— Malachai |
You know, Not-a-Cockroach, had I accepted my place, my rapturous role, the Beast would be no more, no less, no anything at all. My selfishness tickled the Beast's fancy and it laughed the world I knew away.
Yet I have had much time to think on my lonesome. Much time to wonder. Wonder if the Rapture really needs to eat a Gemling Queen.
Maybe, something else will get its catastrophic juices slavering. Something like... eyeball soup!
The Eye of Fury. The Eye of Desire. Pretty gems for our pretty designs. But where could they be? Don't fret now. I have my suspicions.
Kaom, the Sovereign of Slaughter. He remains, and suffers his delusions right here in the halls of nightmare. Fury is all he knows, so Fury Kaom will have.
Daresso, King of Swords. Damned by Desire. Oh, aren't we all? He's down here too, and Desire's curse remains his to bear.
Go on, Not-a-Cockroach. Bring me the crown jewels so that we might wake the Rapture and finally put an end to this pestering Beast!
— The Rapture |
Pried the Fury from Kaom's dead hand, did you? Or is it 'dead again' hand? Or 'redead' hand? Or is 'undeath' really just death with benefits?
In which case, you didn't kill Kaom because he was already dead. It's all a bit of a grey area, really. And completely beside the point.
— The Eye of Fury |
Yet we're still one gem short. Go, Not-a-Cockroach, and relieve Kaom of his Fury.
— The Eye of Fury |
Pried the Desire from Daresso's dead hand, did you? Or is it 'dead again' hand? Or 'redead' hand? Or is 'undeath' really just death with benefits?
In which case, you didn't kill Daresso because he was already dead. It's all a bit of a grey area, really. And completely beside the point.
— The Eye of Desire |
Yet we're still one gem short. Go, Not-a-Cockroach, and relieve Daresso of his Desire.
— The Eye of Desire |
Fury and Desire, together again. Lovely and lovely. Facets so shiny, replete with the vim of murdered souls.
My Malachai did the crafting. Beautiful work. General Adus did the murdering. Equally beautiful work, in its own juicy way.
— The Rapture |
Num nums time, my little Rapture!
{"Have you ever been to the End of the World before, my King?" asked the Blackest Monkey.
"No, I have not." realised the Monkey King.
"There is my reason to go where you go, be where you be, my King," concluded the Blackest Monkey in a voice as warm and welcoming as death.}
Do you know who wrote that, Not-a-Cockroach? Victario Nevalius, the People's Poet of Sarn. He was my friend... and I betrayed him. Took his love and burned it before his eyes.
Now I am betrayed. My heart burned black by the one man I loved... Malachai.
He's found a new heart, you see. A Beast's heart to cuddle up to, to keep him warm and safe at the End of the World.
Today, I remind Malachai of his betrayal. Today, it is his turn to burn...
— The Rapture |
Malachai's devices, his creations... He loved them all. Not me.
He betrayed me then. Said he loved me. Then said he wanted me to die. He betrays me now. Lets me suffer. Lets me wither.
Am I the one and only mistake that you ever made, Malachai?
Yes, that's me. Dialla the Gemling Queen. Malachai's misdemeanour.
Make him regret his mistake, Not-a-Cockroach. Tear open the Beast's black heart. Rip Malachai from his filthy little nightmare. Cut him, crush him, burn him from existence!
He deserves no better, and I deserve no worse. No love for me. No love, no love... no love.
— The Rapture |
Impatient reekings. They waft to me from that mountain. That's all I can smell, Not-a-Cockroach. Stinking anticipation.
— Deshret's Banner |
Voll the Pure, they called him. Voll the Murderer, I call him. In his name, an Emperor was murdered. In his name, an Empire was murdered.
Yes, it was Malachai's lips that kissed me. Yes, it was Malachai's hand that led me to the Rapture. No, no and no again. It was Voll's words that put me there.
— Voll |
The Rapture was to rend open the hide of Nightmare and broil the Beast's bitter innards in the sweet fire of mortality.
The vessel was strong and oh-so willing.
The medicine was oh-so weak.
— The Rapture Device |
Old axe for brains. Kaom had Eternals dragged from their homes all over the south coast.
Like sheep, he butchered them, no matter how desperately they bleated. He adorned his doorways with the heads of women and children.
What makes a hero or a villain? It depends who you ask.
— Kaom |
The Sword King. Before my time. Beyond my time. Where is time, anyway, when you need it? Never stands still, that's the problem!
Except if you are Daresso. Petrified with love he is. A love he doesn't realise is long, long, long... gone.
— Daresso |
What is that in your eyes? That glistening, that... softness. Is that pity?
Take those pitying eyes away before I pluck them from your face!
I need but one thing from you now: Malachai... dead.
— Dialla |
What is that in your eyes? That glistening, that... softness. Is that pity?
Take those pitying eyes away before I pluck them from your face!
— Dialla |
The little cockroach witch? Malachai chose her... chose her over me?!
Use her then. Use her as Malachai uses her. Burn betrayal with betrayal. It's all they deserve!
— Piety |
Yes, I see my Malachai dancing within the darkest. Puppet and Master, power and bondage, cut the strings and the puppet falls. The show ends.
Before you cut the cords, my Not-a-Cockroach, tell my dearest Malachai that he has played his part most wonderfully.
Tell him that I love him, from the bottom of my hate.
— Malachai |
Take this. I've given everything else to him. My youth and beauty. My body and mind. My heart. And at last, the only thing he ever gave to me in return... my gemling power.
This is all I have left. I entrust it to you, Not-a-Cockroach.
Malachai taught me not to trust anyone.
It is time to forget everything that Malachai taught me.
— The Rapture Device |
A Shadow returns from the darkness. A shadow that stinks of vengeance served. A shadow drenched in the End of the World. The blackest shadow.
My Malachai is dead. I knew it, felt it, understood it the moment you struck the final blow. I am, I was... the Gemling Queen, and now my King is dead.
— Malachai |
The little girl walked into a dark, dark cave. The little girl met a dark, dark Beast. The little girl ate its dark, dark heart.
My Malachai is dead. I knew it, felt it, understood it the moment you struck the final blow. I am, I was... the Gemling Queen, and now my King is dead.
— Malachai |
"The righteous shall inherit." Voll said that, in a candlelit sermon on the eve of cataclysm. The only smart thing that idiot ever said. The only time God actually agreed with him.
My Malachai is dead. I knew it, felt it, understood it the moment you struck the final blow. I am, I was... the Gemling Queen, and now my King is dead.
— Malachai |
I've met just one other man like you upon this long and twisted thread that is my life. Chitus. A man who understood what it took to give himself absolutely to Glory.
Yet, you and he are different in one tiny, little way. Chitus died gloriously. You did not.
And now it is my Malachai who is dead. I knew it, felt it, understood it the moment you struck the final blow. I am, I was... the Gemling Queen, and now my King is dead.
— Malachai |
Malachai once said to me that those that hunt for love will never find it, and those that accept that they are love's prey are sure to be found... and devoured.
Of course, he had never met you, until now.
My Malachai is dead. I knew it, felt it, understood it the moment you struck the final blow. I am, I was... the Gemling Queen, and now my King is dead.
— Malachai |
You have fought a long war. A war to end a world, and begin a new one. And you've learned the most important thing about war.
There is no winning. There is only remaining.
My Malachai is dead. I knew it, felt it, understood it the moment you struck the final blow. I am, I was... the Gemling Queen, and now my King is dead.
— Malachai |
It was said that Malachai was the greatest mind of our age. Our age is gone. This new age, it belongs to you. It was also said that 'great minds think alike'. Let's hope not.
So my Malachai is dead? Yes... I knew it, felt it, understood it the moment you struck the final blow. I am, I was... the Gemling Queen, and now my King is dead.
— Malachai |
We dreamed only the greatest dreams, Malachai and I. A truly eternal empire. Eternal life, eternal love. A future no longer afraid of the past.
Eternal lies, eternal loss, those were our true gifts to Wraeclast. This land could not have asked for a worse King and Queen.
Wraeclast leaves the past behind it, now. Malachai's past. My past. It thanks you, Not-a-Cockroach. It loves you.
I wish, I wish, I wish... that I could do the same.
— Wraeclast |
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