Welcome ye ter Oriath! Smell that fresh, landlubber air. Ain't nothing like the air in Theopolis, full of debauchery and pollution, hidden neath the garb of them holy templars... Seems the place has changed a fair bit since last I were here, a lot more blood and entrails than what I remember. Well, best Lilly and I stay here where it be safe. You journey on ahead matey, see what blimey buggers you get to kill next.
Now there's a woman who can hold her own! Look at her! A marvelous specimen of the female persuasion.
Arr, reminds me of Meredith, me long lost sweetheart... Would it be that I could have a woman like that at me side once more. Someone to stare out over the bow into the salt spray of the sea with, someone to warm the cockles of me heart - and a few other things, in me bed; at night... Ah, now that'd be the dream...
Lousy good for nothing blackguard. In all me years at sea, never have I ever serviced a filthy blackguard on my lovely ship. If the Brine King still drew breath, I'd tell you having this Bannon aboard would be an affront to the lord of salt and scale... Him and his kind have hung drawn and quartered too many of ours. I don't rightly trust him. Not at all.
Methinks Lilly is fixing to have her way with that damn Blackguard. Well, I'll tell you, not if I have anything to say about it. Look at me! Never thought I'd see the day where old Weylam were to be the prudish grandfather, yet here we are. Damn conscience'll be the death of me.
Say, yer not in the market for a new cutlass or anything are yer? Recently unlocked the Black Crest's old armoury, found a whole shite load of weaponry down there from another time. If you fancy it, be glad to show yer me stock, see if there's anything in there you'd like to pick up.
Thank the sea! That bloody sod is gone from our world! Can't tell ya how many times I've heard them Karui savages gibbering in fear over that cannibal god.
And of course, there's ah... all of this horror to account for as well. Aye, don't think there's a man, woman or child in the world that won't be praising yer name tonight over a glass of their finest grog.
Speaking of which, where's a man to go to find a little fire water around these parts?
Was a time where the ladies'd be begging for a bit of ol' Weylam. But I ain't felt the warm caress of a woman in a long time and it wounding me dreadful. During me time on the sea, I heard tale of Queen Atziri and her penchant fer using this land as a kinda vault for all her special shinies.
One such shiny be her famed love potion - s'posed to attract the drinker's ideal mate to their loins, even if that mate be far across the sea. Ol' Queen Atziri kept the liquid in the skull of her favourite lover.
Them damned Templars probably got their hands on it by now and the potion's bizarre container has me thinking they probably went and tossed it in the Ossuary along with the rest of the bones they got lying around.
Exile, be yer the friend I believe you to be, then find the potion for me, so that I can experience true love once more.
Yer found it! Bless yer boots exile! Me lady problems will be over at last! Let's give her a go then...
Hmm, hmmmm... I feel nothing... Blast it all to the ocean depths! Ruined! All them years sitting 'round in that damned Ossuary, the love magic's fizzled right outta the damn thing.
Ah well... can't blame a man fer trying. Anyway, here's a little something for yer effort...