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