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Oct 25, 2006 00:20



Aerie

*TOB*
Sarevok: What is this I see? A wingless bird. How fitting that you should flop along with this group, eager to prove your worth.
Aerie: I’ve already proven my worth. To everyone as well as myself.
Sarevok: Brave words. But I think you mouth platitudes you can’t even understand.
Aerie: It ... it doesn’t matter what you think. I am no frightened elf within the circus, anymore. I’ve learned enough so that evil like yours makes me only feel pity.
Sarevok: Pity, is it? You should feel fear instead, girl. Were (CHARNAME) not your companion and protector, you would be nothing before me.
Aerie: Think what you like. It is you who are nothing before my god and my faith. Baevan and Aerdrie Faenye would both sweep you as if you were dust before them.

Sarevok: Bah! They come at your beck and call to protect your miserable life, do they?
Aerie: They protect me. But seeing as (CHARNAME) was once enough to defeat you, and that was a long time ago, you shouldn’t go asking for more than you can handle.
Sarevok: Keep thinking that, girl. You haven’t a clue what true evil is.

Anomen

* TOB *
Anomen: You have changed, Sarevok. Your new outlook is apparent even to me ... only I wonder if this is not some sort of act to cater to the hopes of our leader.
Sarevok: It is no act, cleric. It is also none of your business.
Anomen: On the contrary, (CHARNAME)’s safety is my business, and I wonder at your motives.
Sarevok: My motives may not be as blindingly apparent as your own, fool, but they are also not as superficial.
Anomen: Well, do astound me with you sheer depth, then, Sarevok. What is it you hope to gain by travelling with (CHARNAME)?
Sarevok: Redemption.
Anomen: Redemption? You must be joking.
Sarevok: Remption, among other things. Now begone ... were it not that (CHARNAME) calls you a friend, I would cut you down where you stand for your impudence.

*TOB*
Sarevok: I see your eyes upon me, cleric. Quit your glares or I’ll pluck your eyes out with my sword, I swear.
Anomen: You could try, abomination. I doubt you would succeed. I merely wonder at how, exactly, you managed to worm your way into the ranks of this group.
Sarevok: By being useful. Something you would know nothing about.
Anomen: Well, you blackmailed (CHARNAME) in return for your information, that’s true ... but I fail to see what use you provide, now. Perhaps (CHARNAME) should simply kill you again.
Sarevok: My use is in my sword and my skill. I have no whining petulance to draw on, as you do. And my (BROTHER or SISTER) shall do as (HE or SHE) pleases, so quit your mewling and begone.

Cernd

*TOB*
Sarevok: I have had enough of your constant flinching druid. Do you have something to say to me or not?
Cernd: I ... I apologize. I know that there are reasons for your presence amongst us, but you seem so unnatural to me that I cannot help but be repelled.
Sarevok: You have encountered many things far more unnatural than me. How about the spawn of an evil god ... does that not strike you as unnatural in any way?
Cernd: At ... at least it is still birth and life, Sarevok. It is part of the natural cycle. Even a Bhaalspawn dies in a natural manner. You are a dead thing that has risen again.
Sarevok: The same would be true for any undead creature.
Cernd: But you are not undead. You are as a tree stump, sprouted again into a full oak. A marvel, perhaps ... but also a living denial of the natural cycle. I just find it ... disturbing, is all.
(If Sarevok is evil)
Sarevok: Get over it quickly then, druid. The next time you flinch in my presence I shall be forced to run you through. Then let’s see if you can accomplish rebirth as I did.
(If Sarevok changed alignment)
Sarevok: Then we have little to say to each other, druid. I live again for a purpose and will not fail it ... your disturbances mean nothing to me, so stay out of my way.

Edwin

*TOB*
Sarevok: What is it, mage? You spare no opportunity to examine me and I would know why.
Edwin: I do not like walking with the enemy. I can barely stand keeping my allies so close, and yet here I am consorting with you.
Sarevok: Ah, so you are the great loner, ready to assault the world on your own. Foolish.
Edwin: Is it? You were no more content as a lowly member of the team than I.
Sarevok: I rose to power by choosing who I followed carefully and surrounding myself with beings of power. My tactic has not changed, and will be fruitful in the end.
Edwin: Well, I suppose I should be grateful for being included. I look forward to being a part of your next defeat.
Sarevok: You remind me of a younger me, mage, before I was slaughtered and sent to the pits of hell. Think on that before you burn your bridges.

HaerDalis’

*TOB*
Sarevok: Your sideway glances begin to annoy me, bard. Say your piece or drag your eyes elsewhere!
HaerDalis’: Forgive this sparrow’s curiosity, my fierce hound, but my eyes are drawn of their own accord. You have walked where every mortal must go - though precious few return as you have.
Sarevok: And what of it? Did you think I learned some great secret there? The meaning of life, perhaps? Or some similar foolish notion?
HaerDalis’: Nay, I am far too busy living life to wonder at its meaning. But perhaps you could share your experiences with me ... it could make a most fascinating dramatic work.
Sarevok: My experiences? Suffering, tiefling ... suffering which you cannot fathom. Each level of pain worst than the first, each layer of torment bringing new tortures.
HaerDalis’: Such passion in your suffering! Imagine a story in which you take me, the author, on a journey through these levels of the abyss ... it is the stuff of a literary masterpiece! Tell me more, Sarevok!

Sarevok: Beneath the suffering is a constant fire. An incessant, horrible burning - the rage and fury of Bhaal searing my immortal soul. No! I will not relive the agony of that inferno for your amusement!
HaerDalis’: Ah, your decision is a great loss to literature. Should you change your mind, my armor plated hawk, come and find me. I already have the perfect title for the work: Dalis’ Inferno.

Imoen

*TOB* If it’s Imoen who donates a piece of her soul.
Imoen: So ... Sarevok. You’ve had an itty-bitty piece of my soul in there for quite a while now. What it’s been like?
Sarevok: (sigh) Well other than a slight obsession with my weight and the resurgence of a few pimples, it’s been simply grand. Now leave me be, girl.
Imoen: No, I’m serious. Does the fact that you have a little piece of me inside you make any difference at all? Tell me ... you owe me that much.
Sarevok: What do you wish to know, girl? What are you curious about? Perhaps you would be interested to know that I can feel the knives of Irenicus, slicing into my skin, torturing me. I can feel his hands and his breath, I *know* what he did to you, girl ...
Imoen: Al-alright, stop ... I wasn’t really serious ...
Sarevok: How about the agony you felt as your soul was ripped from you? The despair at being left only with the cold voices of your tainted heart, discovering what was inside you all along? How about the hurt you keep deep down within, wondering if you weren’t good enough for Gorion? How about the loneliness ... the unrequited longing you -
Imoen: Stop! Enough ... I won’t bother you, Sarevok, just -
(If Sarevok’s still evil)
Sarevok: You are pathetic, girl. When the true Bhaalspawn come to claim your essence, I hope you bring yourself not to flop onto your back at the first sign of danger!
Imoen: I ... I was enough to help kill you once, Sarevok! And I’ll stand by (CHARNAME) to the end, just you wait. It was ... obviously a mistake to talk to you. Excuse me.
(If Sarevok changed alignment)
Sarevok: I feel many things, Imoen. And I know that you are stronger than you think you are.
Imoen: I ... thanks, Sarevok. I guess. Um ... excuse me ...

*TOB*
Imoen: What ... what was it like to die, Sarevok? Seeing as you’ve been through the experience repeatedly I can’t help but wonder if you’ve developed some perspective on it.
Sarevok: Do you intend for me to believe that a weakling such as yourself has never needed to be revived by a priest? Bah! I imagine this group has obtained a discount at the temple of Helm for you, dear sister.
Imoen: Yeah, but that’s different. That’s just some blackness and then like, ‘oops, here you go!’ I don’t think that I’ve ever been really, really dead like you have.
Sarevok: Keep prodding me and that could quickly change.
Imoen: Oh, you don’t fool me. I’m an archmage after all ... and you’re nothing but bluster. Tell me what I want to know!
Sarevok: The knowledge would do you no good, now, dear sister. And by the time you need it, it will be too late. Now leave me be ... your constant chirruping is giving me a headache.

Jaheira

*TOB*
Sarevok: What is that I smell? A burning rage? Hatred barely controlled? Jaheira, your eyes threaten to cut out my heart as I stand.
Jaheira: Walk where you will. My fight with you is over.
Sarevok: Is it? I had hoped my last bid for power would have had a more enduring impact. The memories of the victims are all that remain of it.
Jaheira: You are nothing to me. You are a phantom, a shadow of an evil already faded. I will remember your defeat and nothing more.
Sarevok: My ... defeat. Of course, I understand. I am nothing because if I AM something, then you failed, didn’t you? You worry that the avenged will not sleep if their tormentor has returned.
Jaheira: Your existence is an insult to Gorion and every life you took, so I deny you, just as nature’s cycle has denied you and spat you back upon the surface.
Sarevok: Harsh words, nature’s warrior. You cut to my soul raising questions of who or what I am, and I have no answer ... But I can *live* with that.
Jaheira: You *exist*, you do not *live*. You will miss the great mother’s embrace in time. You are nothing.

Jan Jansen

*TOB*
Jan: You know, Binky, I’ve been considering this plan of yours that you had with the Iron Throne and all that. Interesting ideas ... but flawed.
Sarevok: Binky? You had best not be addressing me, gnome.
Jan: For instance, whose idea was it to put impurities in the iron? Sounds like the lame idea of some yes-man underling who didn’t know when to quit. No doubt you had him flogged.
Sarevok: I will not have my past commented upon by the likes of you, churl. Quiet yourself, lest you experience worse than mere flogging.
Jan: Speaking of a good flog, I’m brought to mind of poor Aunt Sara. She, too, had a master plan to take over the Sword Coast, you know. Although hers was considerably less dramatic and involved the use of tasty recipes for turnip pie and some mind-altering herbs that Auntie Sara had bought from a rather disreputable Turmish mage.
Sarevok: Are you listening to *nothing* I say!? Desist or suffer the consequences!
Jan: Do you think she would listen to use. You can trust a Turmish mage as far as you can kick him ... and even then it’s not a bad idea to carry around a good thumping stick. But, alas, Auntie Sara just cackled on in her most villain-like way and was determined to carry on with her plan to hypnotize the whole Sword Coast. Alas, she was completely undone by an over-the-top exposition she gave to a spy that she had captured ... and who subsequently escaped, of course, before she could have him killed. It’s what villains do, I understand, when they’re not busy defiling iron.
Sarevok: I will not be mocked, gnome! This is your last warning!

Jan: Of course, they say that Duke Eltan had already had a bit of Auntie’s pie and enjoyed it immensely. Rather than become hypnotized, he just became rather pleasantly obsessed with silken undergarments. This, of course, led to the first Great Underwear Shortage. It’s also known as the Three-Year-Wedgie, but that’s another story completely.
Sarevok: AUUUUGHHH!! How maddening! How can you put up with such impudence, (CHARNAME)!!

*TOB*
Sarevok: I’ve been thinking, gnome ... about a certain trading deal my stepfather made several years ago.
Jan: Your stepfather, eh? Was he a megalomaniac as well? Must have been quite a merchant. Was he into crate building, perchance? Everywhere I look I see crates ... business must be lucrative.
Sarevok: My stepfather was with the Iron Throne. He once negotiated for a very lucrative land deal with a gnome named Count Turnipsome, as I recall.
Jan: Ah, yes. I know the fellow. Handsome young gnome, apple of his mother’s eye. Wealthy, debonaire, beloved by all. Your stepfather was a fortunate man to have met him.
Sarevok: I wouldn’t say the game. The land the Count sold him turned out to be useless swampland overrun by umber hulks and bugbears. My stepfather was almost ejected from the Iron Throne as a result.
Jan: Now that sounds like quite a tragedy. Tsk. There are some mighty crooked people out there. Gnomes, even. Just terrible.
Sarevok: I swore that I would take instant revenge on that gnome if I ever saw him.
Jan: Well, it’s ummm ... it’s a good thing for him you never have, hm?
Sarevok: No doubt. I’ve been saving some rather excruciating torture techniques for the occassion.
Jan: Uhh ... yes, yes. I see. (ahem!) I’ll just go stand by (CHARNAME) for a while. Nothing personal, I just felt the wind change.

Keldorn

TOB*
Keldorn: I doubt you’ll care much for anything I have to say, Sarevok ... but have you considered this new life of yours to be a second chance of sorts?
Sarevok: You are right, paladin. I care not a whit for anything you have to say.
Keldorn: Spit your bile in my direction if you must, but consider that it was your own mechanitions which caused your first death. Fail to learn from that and you will die again with as little meaning.
Sarevok: Death has no meaning, fool. I was simple chance, no judgement by any god. I could just as easily have been victorious in another circumstance.
Keldorn: Then you learned nothing in death? What a short, precious thing life is? The ultimate uselessness of grasping for things like wealth and power? How did they serve you in the Abyss, Sarevok?
Sarevok: My will and my desire served me well in the Abyss. Nothing else.
Keldorn: I have known many good, honest men with powerful will. I know they will not be in the Abyss when they perish.

Sarevok: I ... could care less if I return to the Abyss or not, old fool. Once I am dead I am dead and nothing matters.
Keldorn: I am old, but I am no fool. I don’t believe you really believe that.
Sarevok: I ... begone old man. Make your precious speeches for those who may still be redeemed. It is far too later for me.

Korgan

*TOB*
Korgan: Ach, Sarevok! Yer a bloody killin’ machine, ye are!
Sarevok: Violence has always come easily to me. It seems little has changed.
(If he’s still evil)
In the cold nether realm, while I waited to be reborn, I sorely missed the crimson spray and the hot tang of death on my tongue.
Korgan: Aye, well said me armor plated friend! Welcome back to the land of the living, where the chance to reap a gruesome slaughter lurks around every corner. Har-har-har!
(If he changed alignment)
Even after my resurrection, violent rage pollutes my tainted blood. As (CHARNAME) can surely attest, it is a constant struggle to keep our bloodlust in check.
Korgan: Don’t be turnin’ all moral and weak on me, Sarevok! If yer gonna get prissy about killin’, we cannae discuss this any more!
Sarevok: I kill when I have to, Korgan. But I no longer take such pleasure in it as you do.
Korgan: Bah! If that’s yer new attitude, then (CHARNAME) would have been better off leavin’ you dead!

*TOB*
Sarevok: I see you eyeing me, dwarf. Are you looking to test your metal against mine?
Korgan: I just be tryin’ to come to a reckoning about yer nature, ye walkin’ ghost.
Sarevok: Truly. And what have you concluded, Korgan Bloodaxe? Am I friend or foe?
Korgan: Yer handy enough in a fight, but I kill something I want to know it’s going’ to stay dead. Sarevok: Unless you plan on killing me as I sleep, dwarf, that is not your concern.
Korgan: Aye, that be true enough, I guess. Yer strange return to the land o’ the livin’ matter not. As long as yer throwin’ yer blade into the mix, yer not hurting our group none.
Sarevok: And I could say the same about you. We are done here, dwarf.

Minsc

*TOB*
Minsc: Eh, so, ‘Sarevok’, if that is your real name, what do you remember of our previous battles?
Sarevok: What are you getting at, ranger? I remember you well enough.
Minsc: I am not completely convinced that you are who you say you are, standing there saying you are.
Sarevok: And I am too feel bad that I do not have your validation? No, if my identity is a problem for you then let my actions speak instead.
Minsc: Boo agrees. You are welcome beside us if you effectively apply the boots of goodness.

Sarevok: Your deluded comments are unnecessary. (CHARNAME) directs my wrath as (HE or SHE) sees fit.
Minsc: A fine choice of mentor, but again, you do not seem like a ‘Sarevok’ to me. Too much humble, and not enough, ‘RAAAAGH, feel my unholy rage.’

*TOB*
Sarevok: Ranger! Turn your rodent’s gaze another direction! I will not be scrutinized as though by some ridiculous divining rod!
Minsc: Boo has an uncanny judge of character, but you ... you give him trouble.
Sarevok: I shall give him more than that if this continues! I nearly conquered a nation! I will not be judged by a creature that stores nuts in its cheeks!
(If Jan is in the party)
Jan: Hey! I resemble that remark.
Sarevok: Trust me, gnome, you do not want to partake in my wrath this day.
(In any event)
Minsc: Food storage aside, Boo controls himself far better than you do. Do you see him ranting about mere glances? Let’s look.
Sarevok: What?
Minsc: There, you see? No rant. In fact, right now we see him snuffling about for a comfy place to sleep. Admirable restraint.
Sarevok: I’m still in hell, aren’t I? This is insanity.
Minsc: Ah, finally a calming look across your face. Boo’s handywork, no doubt. Doesn’t that feel better?
Sarevok: Let’s ... let’s go kill something. Soon.

Nalia

*TOB*
Nalia: Keep your eyes off me, Sarevok. I don’t know what you are, but I don’t want you near me.
Sarevok: Ah. So the sorceress can sense the difference in me, can she? Do I alarm you, girl?
Nalia: I know that you’re not truly alive, and not undead. You’re flesh, but not truly alive no matter what (CHARNAME) did to you. So keep away.
Sarevok: You show curiosity in every other matter related to magic, yet I make you nervous? Are you sure it is for the reasons you think?
Nalia: What do you mean?
Sarevok: I mean that, to you, I am evil. I am powerful and forceful and authoritative ... and you fear those qualities within yourself.
Nalia: That’s not true1 I ... I’m a good person!
Sarevok: And where has it gotten you? Have you vanquished evil, yet? What gets results, better, from what you’ve seen?
Nalia: It ... It isn’t like that. Results aren’t everything.
(If Sarevok is evil)
Sarevok: You mouth words you don’t understand. Once you get over this delusion you shall see things as I do, girl. As they truly are. It is called ‘reality’.

Nalia: You can’t fool me. I know what it’s called, and where your path ends! So stop trying to play mind games with me!
Sarevok: As you wish. You shall see the truth soon enough.
(If Sarevok changed alignment)
Sarevok: Hm. Perhaps you are right, girl. But the doubt you show tells me you should watch yourself most carefully. I’ve known many who started as you did ... and died as I did.

Valygar

*TOB*
Sarevok: Valygar, you have not yet condemned my presence. Is not my very existence here an affront to you?
Valygar: Nay, Sarevok ... I am not troubled by your presence. Should I be?
Sarevok: I am no longer part of the natural order. I was resurrected with powerful magics, which you so obviously despise. My ... unnatural ... existence does not repel you? You do not see me as an abomination?
Valygar: I see you as a warrior, Sarevok. You may have a cruel and violent streak, but you are not alone in that fault. You do not use foul magic; you wield true steel as I do. We are brothers in arms, Sarevok.
Sarevok: That ... is true. Your words surprise me, Valygar. But I thank you for them.

Viconia

*TOB*
Viconia: Sarevok, may I share a whispered word with you?
Sarevok: Yes, drow, what is it you want?
Viconia: I miss the customs of my new homeland, like the breaking in of new pleasure slaves. The largest and the strongest were the hardest to break, but they were the most rewarding. Sarevok, I find your great size ... intriguing.
Sarevok: Were you to break me, Viconia, you might find nothing but the chill emptiness of the grave within.
Viconia: That does not repulse me as you might imagine. We drow are ever eager to broaden our ... experiences.
Sarevok: I orchestrated a war to slaughter thousands. I have felt the cold embrace of death. I have witnessed the horrors of the Abyss. But you, Viconia ... you scare me.
Viconia: Cowards everywhere I turn! If you find your courage, Sarevok, seek me out.

*TOB*
Viconia: Sarevok, have you had the opportunity to consider my earlier offer? Untold pleasures await you if you would but submit to me.
Sarevok: I have considered it, Viconia. And I must reject you and your ... temptations.
Viconia: A pity your manhood is so lacking. I am a cruel mistress, but my slaves always found their subjugation to be most satisfying to their own physical desires as well.

Sarevok: When Bhaal held sway over my soul, I reveled in the bloody carnage I wrought. But my will was not my own. As captivating as your dominance might be, Viconia, I will not surrender my being to the whims of another ... be they God or drow.
Viconia: Then you are of no further interest to me, rivvel ... though I suspect your dreams will be filled with the dark imaginings of the hedonistic pleasures you have denied yourself. But even your dreams will be but a pale shadow of my true decadence.
Sarevok: Of that, Viconia, I have no doubt.
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