I am Yeena, Keeper of the Spirit.
Are you a kind exile, like Eramir? He is good to us... helps us. You will stay and help us too, yes?
— Introduction |
Eramir was a wise man in Oriath. He is our wise man now. Hear him. You will learn much.
If you do not hear, you will likely die.
— Eramir |
Greust does what he thinks is right. And, in Greust's dream, he is never wrong.
— Greust |
Silk knows more than others think. He watches, he learns. Look between the words and you will see the truth in Silk's stories.
— Silk |
Helena is healing, I make sure of that. But you want to know if you can trust her? I see her spirit. It was born good and needs work to keep it that way. Much like yours.
— Helena |
The forest children are ill. Once they drank from fruit, ate nuts and berries. Now they drink blood, eat brain and heart. This land is in a nightmare from which it cannot wake.
— Blood Apes |
Viper eats monkey. Monkey eats viper. The forest is hurt, confused. It fights with itself. There is no peace for us in this war.
— Vipers |
There is land that has forgotten the Spirit. Some man told the rocks and water a different dream. Now, the rocks and water think they are Man.
— Elementals |
If Silk's story of the mother of Eight-Legs is true, then you should go get the spear from her.
The creatures near the Chamber of Sins have suffered from a twisting of their spirits. They are sick and angry. If this happens to the Eight-Legs, we will all suffer from their fever.
— Maligaro's Spike |
Lorrata is dead. It is not news to me. The forest screams its grief.
You need not carry the blame; this was Lorrata's will. I do not question why she allowed you to end her days. I keep her in my dreams, where she might still help us.
— Lorrata |
Men did very bad things in the Chamber of Sins. The forest there hurts... it is changed. The animals, our kin spirits, are made ugly and angry. Why is one life lived not enough for some men?
— Chamber of Sins |
A beast hunts us in her dreams. A great, white beast, tortured and maddened by bad men, a long time gone.
She will come here one night, to tear, crush, and eat. Her pain tells her to. Find the white beast and end her pain, before she shares it with us.
— The Great White Beast |
The white beast's spirit is at rest. No more pain. Take this, in thanks from me, and from the suffering animal that you have helped.
— The Great White Beast |
The spirit is strong in Fellshrine. You touch the stones, you will feel it. They spoke to me, those stones. Told me to take their altar, and to find the hand of a Good Man. He lived in that 'church' as you call it. The altar is his and it will wake when he touches it once more.
You could find the Good Man, bring me his hand? When the spirit of the altar awakes, I will share it with you. I promise.
— The Fellshrine Hand |
You are Dream Tender, my new name for you. Badness is everywhere around us. You bring us something good.
Now, I promised to share. Let us awaken this spirit, bring even more good into this life.
— The Fellshrine Hand |
I dreamed this. A vast creature, a thing of shadow. I saw it escape from a black prison and climb a man-crafted mountain, drifting up its four, sheer sides like the mist that reaches for the clouds. It gathered at the peak of that mountain and ate the heart from the sun.
You smell of that black mist and... something else. Guilt. That is it, yes. Guilt is a strong illness. It gnaws at the spirit until there is nothing left, until you are one of the walking corpses.
You want a cure? Find the man-crafted mountain, send the shadow home, and tell the monster to take your guilt with it.
— The Darkness |
I dreamed this. A vast creature, a thing of shadow. I saw it escape from a black prison and climb a man-crafted mountain, drifting up its four, sheer sides like the mist that reaches for the clouds. It gathered at the peak of that mountain and ate the heart from the sun.
You smell of that black mist and... something else. Guilt. That is it, yes. Guilt is a strong illness. It gnaws at the spirit until there is nothing left, until you are one of the walking corpses.
— The Darkness |
I am not surprised. I saw you, in my slumber, drive the darkness away.
I am sorry that I did not tell you before. What I see is only what might happen, and I did not want to fill you with more confidence than would have been good for you.
— The Light |
You arrive! The great Spirit spoke in my dreams, told me that darkness would again drown our lands. And you, exile, would walk before the flood.
But what is this? You are not alone. A shade, a memory, older even than... no... older than Spirit? Fear grips my throat, I shake, but the Spirit drapes a warming cloak upon my shoulders.
This ancient ghost that follows you, it has the trust of the Spirit, and if the Spirit trusts then I trust.
— Greetings |
My heart weeps for our old home, but what the Spirit gives, we must embrace. The Spirit, it claims who it needs to, when it needs to. There is no sense in sadness.
— The Forest Encampment |
I watch Silk for many days, scurrying to this old Vaal stone, scurrying to that old Vaal ruin, always muttering. He talked and talked and talked yet I heard no one answer. The Spirit warned that I should stay away from him. It pained me. Silk is my friend, yet I must listen to Spirit. I go from Silk's side and now he is gone from mine.
I do not know where Silk go, but I see him in dreams. He is caught in great spider web that stretch into darkness. And that spider web, it is full of bones, more bones from more people than I ever see in my life.
If you find Silk, please, free him from the web. Don't let him become bones like the rest.
— Silk |
What you tell me of Silk, this I understand, though I do not want to. I have spent many nights pondering Silk's journey, why he has stepped from the Spirit path. Now I know. He has walked into the eight arms of blind lust. Arakaali.
Silk is a warning to us all. He is trying to take the short trail to greatness, to the story Spirit has made for him. Silk tries to steal his story but now he holds only a lie.
Please, you must find the place where this Arakaali sleeps in her web of shadow. You must stop Silk before he wakes her, a mistake that we all will come to regret. The Spirit tells me this is so.
— Silk |
I miss my friend. Silk knew the Spirit as I did. We would talk, understand it, together. Now there is no one but me.
— Silk |
Wraeclast has changed. Once, I knew my place in this world. I knew my place within the Spirit. Now, doorways have opened. Doorways I can neither see, nor touch, but through which the spiritless ones pass all the same. The spiritless ones must be driven back, their doors must be closed. May the Great Spirit guide you in your battles against these ancients that mean us nothing but ill.
— Wraeclast |
I have asked questions of Spirit and it has answered in dreams that wake me with screaming. Arakaali will suck all life from this land, leave only empty husks and dusty bones. There will be no Spirit, no us, no thing left to love and laugh.
Only husks and dust... and Arakaali.
— Arakaali |
Greust hunted too far from the lands of Spirit and fell prey to a spiritless one. I am sad at how he passed. An ugly death. Yet I am thankful that he suffers no more, that he has now found his way back to the Spirit. That he can rest now.
— Greust |
I belong to no one but the Spirit, I have no need for the sweet words and caresses of a ghost. Weylam, he makes me laugh, and he hears the voice of the Spirit. Not in the same way I do. His Spirit speaks of the great waters beyond this land. He pays heed to the Spirit and the Spirit loves him for it. I do not.
It is better to speak to the dead than no one at all. Weylam knows the Spirit but he will not know me.
— Weylam |
You have found the resting place of this Arakaali? Good, though Spirit tells me that we will not reach her, not without help. Webs she weaves with fibres of faith and fear. Too strong to break. Too strong to cut.
Yet there is an Azmeri potion, most ancient. 'Fire Dew'. It might be enough to burn a path, make way for us to pass into heart of spider web. I could brew it for you, but there is one ingredient I do not possess. The blazing blood of the firefly that lives in the most dreaded of thickets.
Travel I shall to Arakaali, to sit on her doorstep until you bring me seven flames that flit and fly. Then I make you a Fire Dew and together we go talk to this bride of foolish Silk.
— Fireflies |
Webs she weaves with fibres of faith and fear. Too strong to break. Too strong to cut.
Yet there is an Azmeri potion, most ancient. 'Fire Dew'. It might be enough to burn a path, make way for us to pass into heart of spider web. I could brew it for you, but there is one ingredient I do not possess. The blazing blood of the firefly that lives in the most dreaded of thickets.
Bring me seven flames that flit and fly. Then I make you a Fire Dew and together we go talk to this bride of foolish Silk.
— Fireflies |
You are like the frog that strikes the fly faster than eye can see! No, carry your bright bugs to Arakaali's gate. We will meet there and brew our Fire Dew. Not here. Too much to burn. Too many to make blind!
— Arakaali's Temple |
Fireflies! So bright and juicy with flame. Now for the rite. I warn you, stand back and be not afraid of what you see. And be not afraid for me. The Spirit guides and protects. Though I may change, I shall still be, will always be, Yeena.
— Fireflies |
You hear that? No? It is Spirit singing as does the fly who escapes the web. Yes, it is most happy with us... and with your strange friend there too.
He is a god, yes I can see that much. But why he helps you? Of all questions, that one you must have answer to.
Now I must return to Broken Bridge... so tired now. We will speak more of Silk and sorrow then.
— Arakaali |
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