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Audio/Dialogue/NPC/Weylin

[We_01] WeylinGlyph1
The Son of Ezomyr met the Son of Sarn
Upon the road to the Imperial throne.
The Eternal offered his cunning,
His eyes and ears, bought and paid for.
The Ezomyte offered his strength,
His sword, earned in the arena.
A pact was forged,
With the Labyrinth as witness.
Two men separated by blood.
Two men bound by hope.
Two men, and only one emperor.
[We_02] WeylinGlyph2
The Ezomyte and the Eternal took their rest
In the lee of strife's gale,
And remembered the travelled road.
Beast and fiend had fallen and bled,
To the Ezomyte's sword, swift and true.
Trap and trial had risen and succumbed,
To the Eternal's wits, quick and shrewd.
Two men had cried their triumph,
A Warrior and his Guide,
Whilst other ascendants echoed their pride,
With anguish and agony.
[We_03] WeylinGlyph3
The Warrior bled upon Izaro's stones,
And cursed Izaro's ilk.
He looked upon the walls of his tomb,
Built by his masters, his enemies,
And called for the First Ones to carry him,
To the forest and fields of his Ezomyr.
Yet while the First Ones remained silent,
The Guide did speak
Of secrets planted by clever hands
Enslaved by gold.
And with one such secret,
Plucked the life of the Warrior
From the First Ones' jaws.
[We_04] WeylinGlyph4
A Guide, cornered and quailing,
A Warrior, watching,
The moment bathed in the shadow
Of doubt,
Of ambition,
Of an imperial throne.
And a people made free
By an Emperor of Ezomyr.
The Warrior threw off that cold and cloying shadow,
And struck down the slavering beasts.
The Guide looked to the Warrior
With gratitude in his eyes.
And spoke of doubt,
Of ambition,
Of an imperial throne,
And a people made free
By an Emperor of Sarn.
[We_05] WeylinGlyph5
The Guide led the Warrior down a path
That wound and twisted
Through fields of blossoming promises.
Green-bladed hopes.
The Warrior closed his eyes.
A mere moment
To feel the warmth of the sun on his back,
And to drink from the Guide's proffered flask.
Now the Warrior staggers and crawls
Down the wounded, tortured causeway.
The bitterness stings his weeping eyes.
The fire roars in his belly,
Consuming him.
The Warrior will not ascend.
Instead he hunts.
Guided by his love for Ezomyr.