Victario Topic /13
NPC | Name |
---|---|
Victario's Acuity | "Grind your words into sharp thoughts. Grind your thoughts into the sharpest of deeds." - Victario, the People's Poet |
Victario's Flight | Alive but not unscathed, Victario fled as slaughter blossomed at the gates. |
Victario's Influence | "Every life is a story. If you're not writing your own, you'd better know who's writing it for you!" - Victario, the People's Poet |
Victario's Charity | A man's life is the greatest gift he can give. |
Replica Victario's Charity | "Close to the original, and perhaps even more useful. However, close is not what we are looking for. Keep trying." - Administrator Qotra |
Marylene's Fallacy | "Marylene stroked the medallion at her breast before every duel and every cast of the die." - Victario, the People's Poet |
The Three Dragons | "The ice seared his naked feet As the lightning stilled his heart, But it was the flames upon his lover's face That roused him to vengeance." - From 'The Three Dragons' by Victario of Sarn |
Tear of Purity | A shimmering symbol of Purity, clear as water, but I know better than most how quickly Purity can succumb to Corruption. How quickly water turns to blood. - Victario, the People's Poet |
Sudden Ignition | After years of subterfuge, sabotage, and sacrifice, Sarn had become a powder keg just waiting to explode. Finally, Victario lit the match. |
Geofri's Legacy | "Though Geofri's beacon was extinguished, his embers may yet light our way." - Victario, The People's Poet |
Nevalius Inheritance | "I come from a long line of scholars, poets, and artists. You can imagine how little we leave our children... My father only gifted me one thing: for good or ill, I don't know when to quit." - Victario Nevalius, the People's Poet |
The Brittle Emperor | - Victario, the People's Poet} |
The Poet | And Victario wept. Corruption consumed the land And Victario's tears turned to blood.} |
Victario FlavourText /46
name | flavour |
---|---|
The Brittle Emperor BaseItemTypes | - Victario, the People's Poet} |
The Poet BaseItemTypes | And Victario wept. Corruption consumed the land And Victario's tears turned to blood.} |
HarganVictarioQuest NPCTextAudio | 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. |
HarganBust2 NPCTextAudio | 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. |
HarganBust3 NPCTextAudio | 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. |
GrigorOnVictario NPCTextAudio | Victario, a fellow warrior of words. He wrote many entreaties to the Ezomytes, begging our assistance in helping High Templar Voll depose Emperor Chitus. That was centuries ago. Victario's words held much power then. I imagine they still do. |
HelenaOnBalefulGem NPCTextAudio | According to his notes, the Baleful Gem was a byproduct of Maligaro's attempts to enhance the already formidable qualities of virtue gems. It was an abject failure yet Maligaro wasn't one to waste his atrocities. By combining the Baleful Gem with the venom extracted from one of his arachnid subjects, he brewed something called 'Black Elixir'. He proudly proclaimed it to be 'the most potent poison in existence' until it was stolen by a man named Victario. It was rather entertaining to read Maligaro's intentions for Victario once he caught the man. Twisted... yet I can't fault the Inquisitor's creativity. |
VictarioIntro NPCTextAudio | Mortality is the mother of life. We have turned our backs on her. |
VictarioSlum NPCTextAudio | The Monkey King has built his throne on your back. A throne of gold and gem, polished with blood and tear. Throw off the Monkey King and his shining privy, before your back is broken. |
VictarioWarehouse NPCTextAudio | The gemmed genteel are an infestation. They are the Monkey King's fleas that drink of your lifeblood. Crush them in your work-forged hands! |
VictarioBattlefront NPCTextAudio | The Shadow whispers and simpers at the Monkey King's feet, but when the Monkey King puts his back to the Sun, it's the Shadow that leads the way. |
VictarioDocks NPCTextAudio | The Monkey King names you 'slave'. No. You are the gems of Wraeclast, not the treacherous stones you dig and die for. It's time to bend the Monkey King's ear. Tell him your true name. |
VictarioChurch NPCTextAudio | There is nothing 'eternal' in this empire of ours but the names of our day that shall be revered or reviled in the centuries to come. |
VictarioMarketplace NPCTextAudio | I write this now in hope that someone will remain. Someone may remember. The sun is an orb of blood. Twisted twilight shrouds my eyes. The air reeks of anguish. Sarn has plunged into nightmare. The man who served me coffee now writhes on the floor. He rants of visions he alone can see, as writhing red tentacles grow from his face, as if his eyes had been seeds waiting to sprout. He is quiet, now, my waiter. No more cackling and screaming. Dead. Of my fellow patrons, only two live. The others have fallen. Their blood is everywhere. The survivors, Gemlings both... their skin shrivels and greys to the hue of necrosis. Their gems flare with unholy lustre. Their eyes... black as... hatred. A gemling ghoul... it twisted off a corpse's head... gnaws at skull like dog. My head now... visions clawing at me... Thinking burns! I see... horror, envy the mute corpses at my... feet. Words flay me... flee me. All is madness... |
LibraryGaribaldi1 NPCTextAudio | {Book 1: Embers of Insurrection} "He soared to power on the smoke of burning witches". So the surviving Gemlings whispered of Voll of Thebrus, as he donned the Imperial crown on the 2nd Sacrato of Phreci, 1334 IC. But in truth, he was never the sort of man to set a girl alight for merely reading a palm or remedying a bout of the clap. Righteous and devoted to both faith and country, High Templar Voll struck little hardship in gathering others to his godly cause: Sarn's own Lord Mayor Ondar and Victario, the People's Poet; Archbishop Geofri of Phrecia; Governor Kastov of Stridevolf; and Commander Adus of Highgate. Together, these Warriors of Purity forged an uprising against the Gemling thaumatocracy that Voll hoped would "snatch this empire from the claws of devilry and return it to humanity". { - Garivaldi, Chronicler to the Empire} |
LibraryGaribaldi2 NPCTextAudio | {Book 2: Bloody Flowers} High Templar Voll had Victario entreat Thane Rigwald of Ezomyr, knowing that a poet would fare far better than any politician in rousing the romantic Ezomytes to rebellion. Stirred by Victario's impassioned words, Rigwald mustered his blood-bound clans, and on the 3rd Fiero of Dirivi 1333 IC, took to the fields of Glarryn in open rebellion against Governor Gaius Sentari. Such was the colourful splendour of a thousand tartans and banners that the Ezomyte uprising became known as "The Bloody Flowers' Rebellion". Though Sentari's Gemling legionnaires slew three Ezomytes for every one of their own fallen, the Bloody Flowers won the day through sheer fury-driven courage. Governor Sentari fled to Sarn, only to return in Astrali with reinforcements drawn from the capital, Vastiri and southern garrisons. Little did Sentari know that, by so weakening those forces, he was playing right into Voll's hands. { - Garivaldi, Chronicler to the Empire} |
LibraryGaribaldi5 NPCTextAudio | {Book 5: The Emperor is dead. Long live the Emperor!} On the last day of Divini 1333 IC, High Templar Voll laid siege to Sarn, his ranks swelled by Ezomyte, Karui and Maraketh rebels under the respective leaderships of Thane Rigwald, Hyrri of Ngamakanui and Sekhema Deshret. Emperor Chitus rallied his freshly minted Gemling Legionnaires and, for a time, looked set to execute an effective defence of the capital. But his efforts were cut short by his closest advisor and friend, Lord Mayor Ondar. During the celebration of the Night of a Thousand Ribbons, Ondar struck Chitus down with blades tainted with the most virulent of poisons. Yet the emperor's inhuman constitution served him to the very last. Taking up his axe, Chitus cleaved Ondar in twain before expiring himself, in a visceral and calamitous display of thaumaturgy. Malachai, Thaumaturge Laureate, and his gemling consort, Lady Dialla, were captured by Victario Nevalius' citizen revolutionaries shortly thereafter. With their leadership either dead or detained, the gemling aristocracy of Sarn had no choice but to offer the city's surrender. Voll and his Army of Purity marched through the gates of the capital and the following day, the High Templar was crowned Emperor Voll the First. { - Garivaldi, Chronicler to the Empire} |
LibraryVictario1 NPCTextAudio | {Volume 1: Kalisa Maas} I never really understood Brektov's work. Just a mess of trills and squeaky highs to my commoner ears. But that was before Kalisa Maas. From the very first note, her voice reached into my chest and plucked my beating heart from its cage. By the wide, glistening eyes of my fellow punters, I knew that they felt it too. I've previously stolen a quick nap during the aria that precedes Antonio's disembowelling. Not tonight. The gem at Kalisa's throat sparkled with starlight brilliance as her C sharp shattered every pane of glass in the auditorium. An emergency intermission was called while the stage crew repaired the floods and cans, and a pair of physicians saw to those audience members lacerated by falling splinters. Now, my suspicion of the Virtue Gems is well-documented. Though general and courtier might fall over each other to have Malachai embed them with these miraculous crystals, it is a travesty of justice that the legionnaires and workers of this Empire should have such mutilations foisted upon them. Yet, in Kalisa Maas I've seen how these gems may rend apart our mortal bonds and permit our imaginations and souls to truly shine. I'm adrift in the quandary, no oar in sight. Is Kalisa the Artist or the Art? Is she the same woman I knew before, the young bundle of talent and timidity I had no choice but to adore? Is she still, in fact, a woman at all? { - Victario of Sarn} |
LibraryVictario2 NPCTextAudio | {Volume 2: The Blackest Monkey} The Monkey King was enjoying an afternoon amble along the riverbank when, upon looking over his hairy shoulder, he noticed the Blackest Monkey he'd ever seen ambling along behind him. "Why do you follow me?" the Monkey King demanded of the Blackest Monkey, for he did not appreciate uninvited followings, especially on his riverbank amblings. "So that I might go where you go, be where you be, my King," answered the Blackest Monkey. "And what if I do not want you to go where I go, be where I be?" clamored the irritated Monkey King with a spit and a gibber. "Wanting and having are not the same, my King," answered the Blackest Monkey in a voice as smooth as banana juice. "I am the Monkey King! I do as I wish!" cried the now furious Monkey King with much shrieking and frothing. "Wishing and doing are not the same, my King," answered the Blackest Monkey in a voice as silken as butterfly wings. Too wild to even spit or gibber, to shriek or froth, the Monkey King took to his heels and ran. Along the riverbank he raced, faster than the water, faster than the wind, faster than thought, for he was the Monkey King, and all know that the Monkey King has the fleetest feet in all the land. He ran to the end of the river, and then to the end of the mountains, and then to the end of the clouds, and then to the End of the World. And who should be there, waiting at his King's feet at the End of the World, but the Blackest Monkey the King had ever seen. "Why do you follow me?" the Monkey King begged of him. "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. { - Victario of Sarn} |
LibraryVictario3 NPCTextAudio | {Volume 3: Slaves of Virtue} Another shipment of human picks and shovels, bound for Highgate. Ezomytes mostly, care of Gaius Sentari's "civilisation camps". A few dark skins here and there, Karui and Maraketh. Malachai has had his wicked way with them all. Limbs are stretched, contorted, double and triple jointed. All the better to pluck gems from the cracks and fissures of their home and tomb to be. They squint and cower in the sun, their eyeballs injected with gloom so that they might see in the subterranean night as they would in their warm, homeland day. The shackled slaves shuffle north as the gems they mine tumble south, a glittering landslide of power and privilege for the fairest of our Eternal citizens. Civilisation is bought and paid for with the flesh and blood of the primitive. It is a debt that will one day need to be repaid. { - Victario of Sarn} |
LibraryVictario4 NPCTextAudio | {Volume 4: A Friend in Need} It's one of those summer days in Sarn, when the sweat dries on your skin the moment it dares slither from your pores. Lorenzi and I are sipping coffees, iced with cubes from the North. There's a tremor in his voice as he announces that he is going to see Malachai tonight, to have a gem implanted in his hand. The palm of his left hand to be exact. Once I have run out of expletives and paused for breath while the waiter wipes spilled coffee from our table, I manage to ask him why. "So that I might have the fastest fingers in the Empire," is his reply. Lorenzi, first violinist of the Sarn Symphonic, and my dear friend, is going to become a Gemling. Ten days pass and Lorenzi's hand is healed. He plays for me, a piece that he has written during his convalescence, something he will debut this evening in God's Theatre. The gem casts a bloody hue over his violin as his fingers fly across the strings. They are an ephemeral blur, too quick for eye or mind to follow. And the music... there's only one experience in my life that compares. The night I had with Marylene before she died. It has been a month now, and once again Lorenzi and I sip iced coffees together in the Perandus Markets. Though we sit only a narrow table apart, Lorenzi is a world away. The nightmares began a couple of weeks back. He toys absently with the vial that I have bought for him from the apothecary, yet I know he won't drink from it. The soothing of his wits will mean the slowing of his fingers. The music is Lorenzi's life, and to Lorenzi, the music and the gem are one and the same. A year has gone, and the day is once again hot enough to dry the sweat on my skin the moment it dares slither from my pores. I sip an iced coffee and think of Lorenzi. He played last night, in God's Theatre. Fleet, furious, and wondrous, he was. We passed in the foyer, and I looked into his grey face, his pale blue eyes. I don't know what he saw, but it wasn't me. I don't know what I saw either, but it wasn't Lorenzi. { - Victario of Sarn} |
DiallaStartRapture NPCTextAudio | 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... |
NavaliOnAncientRivalries NPCTextAudio | Wraeclast teems with the memories of a violent past. Although the flesh and minds of its original inhabitants are long-gone, their emotions - anger, fear, envy - remain in the artefacts they have left behind. Doedre Darktongue, Marceus Lioneye, Shavronne of Umbra, Maligaro, Victario. If these names mean nothing to you now, they will soon. Keep an eye out for their long-lost possessions. Each holds the memory of failure, sadness and a desire for revenge. |
VenariusSynthMemoryBazaarC NPCTextAudio | Oh, Exile, though I am a mere shade with only figments of memory, I can say with certainty that no man has ever felt the nuances of rage and love so strongly. His was the strongest memory I have ever felt, an imprint of his entire essence. His name... was Victario. |
ZanaSynthMemoryBazaarC NPCTextAudio | That was exhilarating, Exile! Like truly seeing the mind and heart of another person, living and breathing right here with me. Why was his memory so intense? I can still feel Victario, as if he has just left the room only now. |
KuraiVoxTwins NPCTextAudio | The Vox family has enjoyed a place among Oriath's nobility for several generations, but in recent years, Victario and Vincent Vox have used coercion, blackmail, and violence to ensure the family sits at the centre of Oriath's business and social ecosystem. The twins enjoy a legitimate public persona, all while they bury their hands deep in the criminal underworld. The Boss would, of course, love to see the Vox criminal enterprise dismantled. The Ring competes with the Vox crime family for many of the same jobs. But removing competition is secondary to freeing hard-working families from their looming threat. The Boss is shrewd, not heartless. |
KuraiContractOne NPCTextAudio | You've got a contract I have taken out. Excuse me if you know the tale, but I find a well-informed thief is a better thief. A few hundred years ago, Kaom, a Karui king of note, landed on the shores of Wraeclast and began an ill-fated conquest north. He won a decisive battle against the Eternals with the help of his niece, Hyrri. She and many other women took up bows and ambushed General Lioneye when hubris got the better of him. It was an ingenious workaround of a restriction of the Karui Way. The poet Victario was present at the battle and later gifted Hyrri with a signed copy of "O' Eternal", one of his works. It now sits in the vault of an Oriathan nobleman. I'd like you to bring it home. It should be a straightforward job. |
KuraiContractTwoVicToKuraiFour NPCTextAudio | Kurai, Kurai, Kurai... Don't you feel you're being unfair? You did, after all, break into my home. You took something which I value. O' Eternal. A first edition. Signed by Victario himself. My parents, rest their souls, were so fond of his work that I was named after him! Am I not owed some sort of... reparations? |
KuraiContractTwoKuraiToVicEight NPCTextAudio | You leave me no choice. I'm sorry, Exile. Victario Vox... it appears we are now at war. |
KuraiContractThreeKuraiToVinnyThree NPCTextAudio | ... I have a counter-proposal. How about we kill you, Vincent. And you, Victario. How about we kill both of you, and every member of your wretched family. How about |
KuraiContractFourKuraiToVoxOne NPCTextAudio | Vincent and Victario Vox! |
CadiroOnVictariosAcuity NPCTextAudio | Victario's Acuity? He may have had a sharp wit, but he wasn't perspicacious enough to evade the Cataclysm. |
CadiroOnVollsDevotion NPCTextAudio | Voll's Devotion? Bah! He was devoted to a cause that was far less pure than Victario's writings would have anyone believe. |
CadiroOnVictariosFlight NPCTextAudio | Victario's Flight, eh? He was best known for denigrating my nephew and sowing seeds of dissent among the populace. He couldn't fly far enough. It's fortunate that he met a bitter end. |
AhuanaGossipVictario NPCTextAudio | Oh, you've heard of my father? I've never met him. My mother only rolled her eyes whenever I asked about him. She told me of him once, the night before she left on her final campaign. She said he spoke with a poet's grace and made myriad boastful promises, but his heart truly belonged to a dead woman. He remained in Sarn when she took our people home, so he must have died in the Cataclysm. I would very much like to know more about him. |
Marylene's Fallacy UniqueItems | "Marylene stroked the medallion at her breast before every duel and every cast of the die." - Victario, the People's Poet |
Victario's Acuity UniqueItems | "Grind your words into sharp thoughts. Grind your thoughts into the sharpest of deeds." - Victario, the People's Poet |
Victario's Flight UniqueItems | Alive but not unscathed, Victario fled as slaughter blossomed at the gates. |
The Three Dragons UniqueItems | "The ice seared his naked feet As the lightning stilled his heart, But it was the flames upon his lover's face That roused him to vengeance." - From 'The Three Dragons' by Victario of Sarn |
Tear of Purity UniqueItems | A shimmering symbol of Purity, clear as water, but I know better than most how quickly Purity can succumb to Corruption. How quickly water turns to blood. - Victario, the People's Poet |
Victario's Influence UniqueItems | "Every life is a story. If you're not writing your own, you'd better know who's writing it for you!" - Victario, the People's Poet |
Victario's Charity UniqueItems | A man's life is the greatest gift he can give. |
Sudden Ignition UniqueItems | After years of subterfuge, sabotage, and sacrifice, Sarn had become a powder keg just waiting to explode. Finally, Victario lit the match. |
Geofri's Legacy UniqueItems | "Though Geofri's beacon was extinguished, his embers may yet light our way." - Victario, The People's Poet |
Replica Victario's Charity UniqueItems | "Close to the original, and perhaps even more useful. However, close is not what we are looking for. Keep trying." - Administrator Qotra |
Nevalius Inheritance UniqueItems | "I come from a long line of scholars, poets, and artists. You can imagine how little we leave our children... My father only gifted me one thing: for good or ill, I don't know when to quit." - Victario Nevalius, the People's Poet |
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Wikis Content is available under CC BY-NC-SA 3.0 unless otherwise noted.