The Path of Glouphrie/Transcript

Bolren's New Pet

 * Player: Hello again Bolren.
 * King Bolren: Well hello, it's good to see you again.
 * Player: I notice you have a new pet.
 * King Bolren: Ah, you've met Dumpling.
 * Player: Dumpling? Hmmm, I suppose it looks little bit like a dumpling. An evil six-legged dumpling.
 * King Bolren: Hey! Dumpling isn't evil. She has cute, fluffy ears and a little bobbly tail!
 * Player: Look at it! It's clearly evil. It has six legs! And those eyes – those black, black eyes. IF you stare into them you can see into its black soul. They give me the creeps. Ahem, anyway, that is not why I know this creature is evil. I've seen one before, and I'm afraid I have some bad news. The truth is that Dumpling is an evil watcher creature created using dark arts, sent by Glouphrie to wheedle itself into your affections and spy on you and your people. It is shrouded by illusion magic to make it look like a cute pet, but in reality it is an horrible, black spiky thing. It's watching you all the time, sending details of all your secret dealings back to Glouphrie.
 * King Bolren: ... You are a strong and brave warrior, but with all due respect... You're mad! You're talking like a raving lunatic. What is it with you adventurers and your wild conspiracy theories? They are not always out to get you, you know.
 * Player: Alright, I admit it sounds a little far-fetched, but it is true. I have seen these creatures at the Grand Tree and unmasked them using a machine created to dispel illusions and who knows how to cast illusions? Glouphrie!
 * King Bolren: Glouphrie disappeared when I was a baby; he should be dead by now. You've been listening to too many gnomish children's stories. "Eat your worms or Glouphrie will get you!" That's what my mummy used to say to me when I was a little boy king.
 * Player: You don't believe me, then. Talk to King Narnode; he'll tell you I'm right.
 * King Bolren: Well, I don't suppose you're lying, but maybe you're wrong? Maybe the ones you saw before were 'evil watchers' made to look like Dumpling here, and Dumpling is just a cute fluffy creature.
 * Player: So I'm going to have to prove this to you myself then, am I? I suppose I should have guessed. *Sigh*.
 * King Bolren: I'm afraid so. Dumpling has become my constant companion, I couldn't just cast her aside.
 * Player: Well, if I were to remove the illusion, would that be enough to prove it to you?
 * King Bolren: Of course. Can you do that?
 * Player: Not exactly. In the Grand Tree I used an anti-illusion device built by Oaknock the engineer to switch off the illusions. I don't suppose you know whether there's one of those around here?
 * King Bolren: Oaknock built lots of things. He was famous for it and he would have done that before I was King so I wouldn't necessarily know about it. If I knew what an anti-illusion device looked like I might be able to help.
 * Player: Oaknock's was a big machine made out of maple, oak and crystal. It made strange whirring noises.
 * King Bolren: Oak and maple are standard gnomish building materials, but crystal isn't. It must have something to do with the elves.
 * Player: Yes, I believe Oaknock got some help from the elves to build it.
 * King Bolren: Now that I think about it, I do remember something. When I was a small boy, just before I became King of the Tree Gnome Village, Yewnock came to visit.
 * Player: Yewnock?
 * King Bolren: Yes, Oaknock's son. Yewnock was a nice gnome. He always used to play games with me, bringing small gliders and little stick men with parachutes. One day, while I was playing, I looked in some crates that had arrived for him and found strange objects made out of crystal and wood. He quickly hid them and told me not to tell anyone. It seems he had come here to build something but he didn't say what, but I do remember those crystals clearly – I'd never seen any before; however, I don't know what he built or where he built it. It must be somewhere out of the way, or underground, otherwise I'm sure I would have noticed it. I think it must have been forgotten about by now.
 * Player: Hmmm, these devices are quite important. You gnomes seem to have a habit of forgetting things.
 * King Bolren: Oh, I suppose so. Gnomes don't tend to dwell on the past. It will be around here somewhere, just ask around.
 * Player: So I need to find a local gnome who might keep old artefacts of an elven nature. Let me think.

Dispelling the Illusion
(If you don't have the key)
 * Player: Hello, are you okay?
 * Golrie: It's just those blasted hobgoblins. I locked myself in here for protection. But I've left the key somewhere and now I'm stuck.
 * Player: OK... I'll have a look for a key.

(If you have the key)
 * Player: Hello, are you okay?
 * Golrie: It's just those blasted hobgoblins. I locked myself in here for protection. But I've left the key somewhere and now I'm stuck.
 * Player: I found a key.
 * Golrie: Well don't wait all day, give it a try!
 * Player: OK...


 * Player: Hello, Golrie. You still trapped down here?
 * Golrie: Oh, no. I'm just toying with them.
 * Player: Toying with hobgoblins?
 * Golrie: Of course. I have a plan of escape. It should be a lot of fun, for me at least; less so for the hobgobbos. Anyway, what can I do for you?
 * Player: Well, I have a question. Do you remember I came and asked you about an elven artefact before?
 * Golrie: OF course. You want some more? I have loads. They are all lying around in boxes somewhere.
 * Player: Are you serious? Are you some sort of collector? Elven artefacts don't grow on trees, you know.
 * Golrie: Ah, but they do grow. Anyways, I don't collect elven stuff, my grandfather does, or did – I'm not sure whether he's alive or not, he hasn't sent me any souvenirs for a while now.
 * Player: Souvenirs?
 * Golrie: Funny gnome, Gramps. He got into a bit of trouble a while back and has been travelling the world collecting elven artefacts and sending them back, He has a bit of a thing for elven stuff. That pebble I gave you was one of his. It used to be a monthly occurrence – a terrorbird would turn up with a big parcel, or a tortoise would turn up with a big crate and I'd throw it in with the other stuff in the storeroom. It's a bit of a mess now in there.
 * Player: So, could I look through some of that stuff? I think I know what I'm looking for.
 * Golrie: Oh, certainly. Let me know if you find anything interesting. I should really sort through all of his things – there's probably some quite cool stuff in there. Have a look in the other cave and you'll find the small tunnel into the storeroom. Oh, if you want to look in the strongroom you'll need to find the key. It's in there somewhere.

(Cutscene) (Cutscene ends)
 * King Bolren: Oh dear, it seems [Player] was right...

Back to Bolren

 * Player: Hello again Bolren.
 * King Bolren: Well hello, it's good to see you again. I have to admit, you were right. That creature is not what it seems.
 * Player: I told you.
 * King Bolren: Please get rid of it, then we can talk.
 * Player: Of course, your Highness.


 * Player: Hello again Bolren.
 * King Bolren: Well hello, it's good to see you again. Thank you. I apologise for not believing you. You have shown your trustworthiness more than sufficiently. I do have a question, though. You said that there were many of these 'watchers' posted all over the Grand Tree?
 * Player: That's right, there were six.
 * King Bolren: So why did Glouphrie send so many to the Grand Tree but only one here?
 * Player: Maybe he thought it was more important to spy on the Grand Tree and Narnode.
 * King Bolren: That's outrageous! The Grand Tree is not six times more important than our village here! He should have sent at least four watchers, maybe five.
 * Player: So you want more evil watchers?
 * King Bolren: Well, yes. I mean no, of course not, but Glouphrie has a lot to answer for. He has underestimated the Tree Gnome Village for the last time! If I ever meet him I'll...err...I'll give him a good talking to.
 * Player: Well, maybe you can help me find him. I suspect he's in the hidden city of Arposandra. I just need to find the place.
 * King Bolren: I do have some information that might lead you in the right direction; either that or down a complete blind alley.
 * Player: Well, any help would be useful.
 * King Bolren: Well, one of my citizens, called Longramble, is a bit of an explorer. He had also heard rumours of Arposandra and asked me if he could go look for it. He was so persistent that I agreed, though mostly just to get him out of my sight.
 * Player: Where did he go?
 * King Bolren: He didn't say where, exactly. He did say that he was sure Arposandra was somewhere between here and the edge of the world.
 * Player: That doesn't really help, you know.
 * King Bolren: Hmmm, there is one gnome who has a near-magical knowledge of the locations of wandering gnomes. Aluft Gianne jnr. I've always wondered how he knows where to deliver all those foodstuffs. Gnomes seem to get in all sorts of weird and inaccessible places. Yes, I'd have a chat with Aluft Gianne jnr. He stands a better chance of knowing where Longramble is, though I can't guarantee Longramble will help. He may have found the edge of the world and fallen off, for all I know. And, if you find Glouphrie, tell him...tell him...I'm very angry with him.
 * Player: I will. I'm sure that will have him quaking in his boots.
 * King Bolren: Of course!

The Missing Gnome

 * Player: Hello, Mr Gianne. I'm looking for a certain gnome and I've been told you're the gnome to talk to about this.
 * Gianne jnr.: Hmmm, that's sensitive information you know. Who is this gnome?
 * Player: I'm looking for Longramble the explorer.
 * Gianne jnr.: Ah, well, that might be different. I have a long-standing order for Longramble. No-one seems to be able to find him.
 * Player: Though, if you can't find him, then you can hardly tell me where he is, then.
 * Gianne jnr.: I didn't say I didn't know where he is, just that the gnomes I've sent can't get to him. Remember these coordinates: 2 degrees, 7 minutes south; 3 degrees, 7 minutes west. Normally I wouldn't give my deliverers exact coordinates but I can't find it on my Doogle Maps.
 * Player: What?
 * Gianne jnr.: My maps are all on dried doogle leaves.
 * Player: Anyway, those coordinates are sextant coordinates, aren't they?
 * Gianne jnr.: Errm, I believe you humans use sextants for these types of coordinates, yes.
 * Player: Right. I'd better get my sextant, watch and chart before I set off then. Oh, I almost forgot what is the order, then?
 * Gianne jnr.: Oh, yes. It seems that Longramble is missing the delicious taste and texture of tangled toads' legs. Tasty.
 * Player: If you say so.

Longramble
''You hand over your tangled toads' legs to a very grateful-looking explorer. He stuffs it straight into his mouth.'' Longramble opens his mouth and says, ''Longramble looks as if he's having problems speaking. His mouth opens but nothing comes out.'' Longramble slaps himself in the face.
 * Longramble: Chew...crunch...munch...
 * Player: You're welcome. Mr Longramble, I presume?
 * Longramble: ...
 * Player: Hello. Let me introduce myself. I'm [Player] and I've been looking for you. You're a hard gnome to find.
 * Longramble: ...
 * Player: Oh no, wait a second, you're not one of those gnomes like Hazelmere that only speaks in Ancient Gnomish, are you? Am I going to have to get my dictionary? You're not going to do that mindmeld thing that Hazelmere does, are you? That made me kind of dizzy.
 * Longramble: N-n-n-no.
 * Player: No?
 * Longramble: No. I understand you and can speak perfectly well, old chap. It has just been a while. I've been travelling for what seems like years, marching through every type of barren terrain, crossing ravines, avoiding goblins, surviving on the local flora and fauna. All this time with no one but myself. I haven't said a word for months. It takes a while to wake the voice sprites up. They've been sleeping.
 * Player: They seem to be well and truly awake now. You must get pretty lonely.
 * Longramble: Lonely? No, I like my own company.
 * Player: So what are you doing out here, anyway?
 * Longramble: I'm looking for the edge of the world. It is my life's ambition to find it and be the first gnome to stare over its edge.
 * Player: Are you sure there is an edge? I heard it goes on forever.
 * Longramble: Everything has an edge and eventually I'll find it. I'll keep heading westwards until I get there.
 * Player: If the world is spherical, though, you'll never find the edge.
 * Longramble: Spherical? Don't be silly! The world is clearly flat. If it was ball-shaped, we'd all roll off the side. Silly human.
 * Player: Maybe the world is round, just very big so we don't notice the curve and there's some magical force that makes us stick to the ground.
 * Longramble: Well, now you're just making fun of me. I don't think you realise the gravity of the situation.
 * Player: Well, I'm clearly not going to persuade you now; though, talking about places that might not exist – I thought you were looking for the lost city of Arposandra.
 * Longramble: Well, that is true, but I'm only doing that as a detour from my journey to the edge of the world. I figured it would be on the way.
 * Player: And you think Arposandra is around here somewhere?
 * Longramble: I believe so. Gnomes that I have talked to have suggested that Glouphrie headed west into the mountains; however, since Glouphrie was a master of illusion, I suspect the city itself will be a hard place to find. I have found a waste outlet. I believe it may be coming from the city of Arposandra.
 * Player: What makes you think that?
 * Longramble: Well, have a look. There is a huge swamp of nasty goo out west, and if you have a look you'll see a large outlet. That outlet seems to be filling the swamp. The only creatures that I am aware of in the area are elves – and elves don't do that sort of thing.
 * Player: That's pretty tenuous.
 * Longramble: Well, indeed, but there is one other thing. The outlet appears to be patrolled by a creature that suggests gnomish involvement. Giant tortoises!
 * Player: Ah!
 * Longramble: I am unaware of any other civilisation that uses the tortoise. There seems to be something wrong with it, though. It seems...unwell.
 * Player: In what way?
 * Longramble: It appears to have large tentacles growing form underneath its shell.
 * Player: Tentacles? That's more than 'unwell' that's...warped!
 * Longramble: Well, whatever you call it, it's not normal; maybe its illness was caused by Glouphrie's magic.
 * Player: Though, if it is Glouphrie's doing, surely it should be an illusion of a tortoise.
 * Longramble: Well, if it is, it's a pretty solid illusion. I have the scars to prove it. Anyway, the way is blocked as well, buy some nasty-looking roots. So, even if you could sneak round the tortoise, you'd have to find a way past them too.
 * Player: Hmm, I'd better have a look myself. Leave it to me – I'll find a way. It's my job.

Spiritual Healing
You feel very strange, as if someone is calling to you from a dream.
 * Spirit Tree: So alone, my brethren cannot hear me.


 * Player: Err, hello, Mister Tree. Was that you calling me?
 * Spirit Tree: ...
 * Player: I must be going mad, I'm talking to a tree. Hello?
 * Spirit Tree: The tree whisperer has come to my aid. Thank Guthix.
 * Player: Err, hello. Do you have a name?
 * Spirit Tree: You may call me Incomitatus, for I am alone and friendless. You are not a small person of Guthix. How do you speak with me?
 * Player: So you can't speak with anyone then?
 * Spirit Tree: Only those who have opened their minds to the spirits of the earth can talk with spirit trees. You surely must have been trained by a great friend of trees, as this is a gift not easily come by.
 * Player: Well, it's true that I have spoken to the odd tree in the past. Wait a minute, this reminds me of something. Hazelmere did something like this to me a while ago; you know talking using the mind.
 * Spirit Tree: The one you call Hazelmere – yes, he is a tree whisperer. He is a friend of trees. He would be able to help me.
 * Player: What's wrong with you anyway?
 * Spirit Tree: I have lost my connection to the anima mundi. The earth has corrupted my roots and they find only black ichor. My xylem and phloem are tainted, and as a consequence I am alone.
 * Player: What exactly is this anima mundi?
 * Spirit Tree: Most spirit trees are connected to the anima mundi. She allows us to speak with each other, and she allows passage of those attuned to her from tree to tree. I sense you have travelled the anima.
 * Player: So this sticky ichor stuff is stopping you from talking to the other spirit trees. I don't know how I could help you. You're right though, Hazelmere might be able to help. What would Hazelmere do?
 * Hazelmere: What? What do you want? Don't disturb me like that. I was deep in contemplation. Looking into the future is not something you can do on a whim, you know.
 * Player: Hazelmere?
 * Hazelmere: Well, you should know, [Player]! You called me, stupid human. Bah! You give a human a gift, known only to the privileged few, and they start jabbering at you at the most inappropriate times. I was in the middle of a dream, a vision of the future. There was something I was meant to see, something that would save my life. Anyway, just as this was to be revealed to me, I was thrown out of my meditative state by your fumbling and stumbling attempts to mindmeld. Well, you'd better have a good reason for this, otherwise I'll...
 * Player: It's good to hear you again; still as grumpy as always.
 * Hazelmere: You must have had some help to meld with me from such distance; you humans are not attuned enough to make a direct connection via the anima mundi. Hmmm, you seem to be using a spirit tree as a conduit. Though, this tree is unwell.
 * Player: I'm glad you noticed that. That is why I need your help. Is that a good enough reason to disturb you?
 * Hazelmere: Harrumph, I suppose so. Let me try to sense the problem.

You feel very dizzy.

You feel as if your mind has been mingled with the tree's. You feel black sticky ichor through your veins.

You feel suffocated and blind.

You feel alone in a void.

You feel pain.


 * Player: Arrrrgh! Help me!
 * Hazelmere: Ah, sorry about that, [Player]. In order to fully meld with the tree I had to use your spirit. The tree you are speaking with is weak. However, you don't seem to have suffered any permanent damage. That's fortunate.
 * Player: Fortunate? You didn't warn me of any risk before giving me that nightmare!
 * Hazelmere: You have a strong spirit; I assumed you'd be alright. And, after all, it's the spirit tree that really matters. You'll only live for a handful of decades, the tree should live for centuries.
 * Player: Hmm, I'm not sure I approve of your low regard for my welfare. About the tree – can you help him?
 * Hazelmere: Well, I know why the tree is unwell. Something has poisoned the soil, blocking the tree's connection with the anima mundi. This is worrying in itself.
 * Player: Why is that?
 * Hazelmere: Well, no poison could do this; only by separating the anima mundi from its source...
 * Player: I'm sorry, you're confusing me.
 * Hazelmere: I forget I'm dealing with a human. I'll spell it out nice and clearly for you. The anima mundi is created by all natural things – it is their 'soul' and a sort of natural energy. It is powerful and dangerous, and only by the balance of Guthix does the anima mundi remain in check. Creatures live, creatures die. The balance is maintained.
 * Player: So how has this caused Incomitatus to become ill?
 * Hazelmere: Powerful magics could be used to separate the anima mundi from its source. This would produce a great deal of power; power that could be used in an unbridled way, but doing so would unbalance the whole pattern of life, and the ichor Incomitatus speaks of appears to be the unnatural waste product of such tinkerings.
 * Player: There is a huge evil-smelling swamp of tar just to the west of here. Is that related?
 * Hazelmere: Probably, but to make enough of this ichor to create a swamp would take an enormous amount of work and would create a dizzying amount of energy. It would be an abomination, to plunder the earth in such a massive way. Who would need to do this?
 * Player: Glouphrie?
 * Hazelmere: Hmph, maybe. Anyway, our immediate problem is to help our spirit brethren.
 * Player: Is there some sort of antidote I could give to the tree?
 * Hazelmere: If you had been paying attention, you'd remember that I said this is no normal poison. Some sort of spiritual cleansing will be needed in order to return the spirit tree's connection to the anima mundi: something pure. I do not have the power to do this kind of thing. This will require elven magic. Elven magic revolves the power of Seren. Seren is the divine aspect of the anima mundi that the elves revere. They use their voices to charm those things connected to the anima. They call it chanting. So I would guess you will need a spell of an object that will 'chant' the anima mundi back into the spirit tree – purging the ichor out of its roots.
 * Player: Couldn't I just get an elf to come here and do it for me?
 * Hazelmere: I doubt you could persuade one to come here, even if you could find one. No elf has been seen anywhere near the gnome lands for centuries. Hmm, you already have an answer. You are carrying it.
 * Player: How do you know what I'm carrying? Oh, mindmeld again. Of course.
 * Hazelmere: A pure note, created by pure elven crystal, would have a purifying effect on whatever is nearby. So, something like a crystal chime would certainly have the right effect.
 * Player: Right, I'll try that.

You feel a wave of relief wash over you and, for a brief second, you feel cries of joy and friendship from all of the spirit trees on Gielinor.
 * Spirit Tree: Thank you. You truly are a friend of spirit trees; a true tree whisperer. Now that my connection with the anima mundi has cleared I sense that my roots have been blocking your path into the caves underground. I shall move them to allow you access. Something that is tainting the anima is happening around here, and the answer lies beyond those caves. Please, for all of our sakes, seek the source of this. May Guthix be with you.

Toxic Tumble
''As you enter the room, your magical senses tingle – you are pretty sure that you cannot teleport out of this room. Better be careful!''

Maybe it's time to have a peak through the hatch door, now.


 * Guard no. 21: *Sigh* So, how did you get this ropey old job then, Seventytwo?
 * Guard no. 72: I think it's a punishment, Twentyone.
 * Guard no. 21: What for?
 * Guard no. 72: I fell asleep while guarding 'upstairs'.
 * Guard no. 21: You fell asleep? I thought the Gnome Masters made it impossible for us to fall asleep.
 * Guard no. 72: I dunno, maybe I'm defective. I blame the Masters myself. Anyway, I got the choice, either take this job or go 'outside'.
 * Guard no. 21: Still, at least you got to guard upstairs! Something happens up there at least once a year. I've been down here since I was de-podded. Nothing happens down here.
 * Guard no. 72: You'd have thought the Masters would make it impossible for us to get bored as well.
 * Guard no. 21: You'd think so, but they always seem to be making a mess of the pods – you've seen how many failures get dumped 'outside'.
 * Guard no. 72: True. Wait! Did you hear something?
 * Guard no. 21: Calm down, nothing ever-
 * Guard no. 72: There's someone there! Squawk! What do we do?
 * Guard no. 21: Press the red button! Quickly!
 * Guard no. 72: They told us to *never* press the red button!
 * Guard no. 21: Unless it's an emergency! Press the red button. Now!
 * Guard no. 72: Squawk! Don't panic!
 * Guard no. 21: I'm not panicking, you're panicking! Press the red button!
 * Guard no. 72: You do it!
 * Guard no. 21: I'm not allowed to! You have to do it!
 * Guard no. 72: Don't panic! Don't panic!
 * Guard no. 21: Squawk!
 * Player: I have a bad feeling about that red button. What is this room, anyway? What? That's tar coming in through the grill! I'd better get out of here. Right, that's the way. I'm going to have to cross the tar. I'm stuck, I can't move! How am I going to get out of here? Let me think. There seems to be some charm that will stop me teleporting out of here. Uh-oh, gas as well. This is getting better and better. *Cough* *Cough* I can't move, I can't teleport, and I'm choking to death. I need a plan. What else could possibly go wrong? Sticky tar, gas and now projectiles. I think I understand what this room is for now. It's a killing room. Think! Think! There has to be a way out of this. *Cough* This gas is making me dizzy. I can't think straight. I'm feeling...rather...faint. Cough! This is it. This is the end. I need help. Heeelp! Someone, help me! I'm dying...
 * Hazelmere: What on earth are you doing, stupid human?
 * Player: Are you the Grim Reaper? You remind me a lot of a gnome I knew when I was alive.
 * Hazelmere: You're not dead yet, fool! Snap out of it!
 * Player: Hazelmere? Wha...?
 * Hazelmere: Pull yourself together! We haven't got much time. I was saving this for a special occasion. I suppose saving your hide counts.
 * Player: Wow, that's some trick!
 * Hazelmere: Megal! Argento's last gift to me has died. I have but one. *Sigh* Well I have made my choice. So be it.
 * Player: What did you say?
 * Hazelmere: Never mind that, I'll explain later. We need to get out of here.

Vision of the Future
The mage starts to speak but all you hear is: You feel very strange – as if Hazelmere has started poking around in your head.
 * Hazelmere: Blah. Blah, blah, blah, blah...blah!
 * Player: Phew, that was a close one! Thanks for saving me.
 * Hazelmere: You did a good thing helping the tree; I was returning the favour. You have shown more empathy towards the anima mundi than any gnome I've known for a long time. It was right of you to think of me. Despite being a human, perhaps you can be a true spirit tree mage. Thank you, [Player]. You have shown me the future, whether you realise it or not, and it is not a place for old wizards like me. My autumn is ending, and only winter remains.
 * Player: What? Don't be so negative. You're a survivor. You've lived this long.
 * Hazelmere: Do you remember when you called me the first time? You disturbed my contemplations. I was having a vision of the future. In it I sensed that Guthix had decided that my work on Gielinor was almost done. I had one last choice to make.
 * Player: Visions? You can't trust visions.
 * Hazelmere: Maybe not. But the first part of it has now come to pass.
 * Player: What is this choice anyway?
 * Hazelmere: Never mind that. It is even more important now that you understand your future. There will be a time of great change and you will do a great good during this time. At times your task will appear impossible, and it will seem as if the power of Guthix, which you will seek with mighty intent, will slip away even after you prevailed so hard, but don't give up hope.
 * Player: Well, that's about as clear as mud!
 * Hazelmere: Stop joking around and listen carefully. This is important. Skilled brothers, numbering eight, will assemble to fight the mahjarrat deceiver, and they will be heading north to confront him. The time after this is...clouded to me, but I see you clearly, dressed in the evil robes of night, lightly decorated with ochre, like burnished gold and the rust colours of autumn leaves. Though the robes represent an order of evil, you will not follow that path. You will remain true to Guthix. Of the eight, only two shall return; one represents the path of Slayer and one the path of the warrior. This might have been different, but I have made my choice, and it is up to you to prove that I made the right one.
 * Player: Bah! Sounds like you have been having some bad dreams, or you've been reading some terrible stories.
 * Hazelmere: Dreams? Maybe. Dreams often reveal truths masked by the light of day but I know the truth of what I have seen in my bones. I have seen my end.
 * Player: You'll never die, you're a mighty wizard!
 * Hazelmere: All I know is what the trees tell me. It will soon be time for me to pass the guardianship of the spirit trees to someone else. Maybe that person is you, [Player].
 * Player: I can't do this! Even if I can, I'll need you to teach me what I need to know.
 * Hazelmere: Do not worry. I have faith you will learn what you need. Anyway, enough moping about the future. Do not worry, we shall meet again, though maybe the next time will be the last.
 * Player: But...
 * Hazelmere: You have more important matters to attend to than chatting to a cranky old gnome. Go!