Purveyor of PlagueDialogue
Village Chief: Wh-why...?
???: To liberate the weak.
Village Chief: What? N-no, I... Urk! Urgh...
Gala Prince: The mayor was murdered?!
Gala Prince: After all he did to make this village prosper... Who would do this?
Ranzal: It ain't just this village. Mayors, lords, and other big-timers are gettin' offed left and right these days.
Gala Prince: Hmm... Didn't we just hear about a pastor who was killed as well? Could the same person be responsible?
Ranzal: Could be, yeah.
Gala Prince: Whoever they are, they seem to be targeting the virtuous. But why?
Ranzal: I dunno, boss, but it stinks to high heaven. I'll take a look around the area, see if I can't dig up a few clues.
Gala Prince: Thank you, Ranzal. Be careful.
Ranzal: Somethin' about this don't feel right. I've got a major case'a the heebie-jeebies...
Ranzal: ...Huh?
Ranzal: All right, who's there?! Show yer face, ya coward!
???: My identity is not important. For I know exactly who you are...Ranzal.
???: Son of a lord. Heir to Saint Lotier. A burly, weathered mercenary. And now...a military commander for New Alberia.
???: Privileged of birth. Privileged of body. Privileged of friends.
???: Irremissible. IRREMISSIBLE!
Ranzal: Ngh!
???: Privilege is...an unforgivable sin. Those who bear it trample on those who do not.
???: And that... That I cannot overlook. Do you hear me, Ranzal? DO YOU HEAR ME?!
Ranzal: I hear ya, but you're not makin' any damn sense!
Volk: I...am Volk. And I am sick. Sick with WEAKNESS!
Volk: For what is weakness...but a disease? A rampant one.
Volk: It is spread like a plague by those born under its heavy yoke. Surely even you can see that?
Ranzal: I'm tellin' ya, bub, you're not makin' a lick of sense!
Volk: You... You just happened to be privileged.
Volk: Happened to not catch the sickness. That really is all there is to it.
Volk: But cheating sickness is a sin most vile— for it is a product of privilege. And now, Ranzal, you must repent. You...and Zacharias both!
Ranzal: Hold on, what's my dad gotta do with this?!
Volk: He will be made to suffer my disease. As...will YOU!
Gala Prince: Hyaaah!
Volk: Urk!
Gala Prince: Ranzal, are you all right?
Ranzal: Euden, stay back! This cat's no joke!
Volk: Euden... The seventh scion of Alberia...
Gala Prince: Who are you? Are you the one responsible for the recent string of murders?!
Volk: Yes. This...is salvation. For the weak.
Ranzal: You're outta your gourd! The folks what you've been killin' are the ones tryin' to SAVE the damn weak!
Volk: You were born to privilege. You will never understand.
Volk: Do you think the weak yearn for strength? Such is the depth of your privilege.
Volk: The weak wish only to SHARE their weakness! They want everyone to wallow with them in squalor and irrelevance!
Gala Prince: You think that justifies murder?! That this is some crusade for those less privileged?!
Gala Prince: That's not justice!
Volk: Heh. Heh heh... Ha ha ha ha ha! HAAAAA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAA!
Ranzal: What's so damn funny?!
Volk: Aha ha... Ha... What do you know of justice, prince?
Volk: What do you know of hardship? What COULD you know?!
Gala Prince: I know what's right.
Volk: We shall see.
Ranzal: Huh? The hell's goin' on?!
Gala Prince: Did he just create some sort of spacial distortion?!
Ranzal: Who ARE you?!
Volk: I am... WE are...fangs. For those without. We are AGITO!
Ranzal: Agito...?
Volk: Now, feel my blade of purgation!
| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
