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Audio/Dialogue/NPC/Victario

[V_Intro] VictarioIntro
Mortality is the mother of life. We have turned our backs on her.
[V01] VictarioSlum
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.
[V02] VictarioWarehouse
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!
[V03] VictarioBattlefront
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.
[V04] VictarioDocks
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.
[V05] VictarioChurch
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.
[V06] VictarioMarketplace
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...