Alternative lines · 1Conditional
It's definitely a good place to hide. Mazovians know how to lay low.
Intellect
Before thought effects; other dialogue conditions may apply.
507 · Voice lines
It's definitely a good place to hide. Mazovians know how to lay low.
Outside the window -- desolation. Snow falls softly onto the coastal sand, where it melts almost instantly. On rooftops, it lingers.
You hear the rain's susurration across the sea water. The night shudders.
It's a good place to hide, but doesn't look like anyone has stayed here in a while.
It's a good place to hide, but doesn't look like anyone -- Mazovian or murderer -- has stayed here in a while.
Could this have been the killer's hideout, and this narrow window -- the point of origin of the shot that killed the mercenary?
That merc was probably shot from a distance with a military-grade rifle. Otherwise everyone at the Whirling would have heard the shot downstairs.
Trying to visualize the physics at play is liable to give you an aneurysm. Don't think about it too hard!
A jigsaw of broken shards falls into place in front of you: a ghostly reconstruction of the stained glass window. Before it was shattered there was an older woman beneath the younger one -- and a text, a leitmotiv below them both.
The escutcheon on her throne says: Irene the Navigator. She is depicted as an older woman wearing thick rimmed eye-glasses, holding a golden reichsapfel in one hand and a scepter in the other. This is the queen Her Innocence Dei advised -- above, she herself is whole.
And then along the left side: APRÈS LE MONDE - LE GRIS; APRÈS LE GRIS - LE MONDE DE NOUVEAU.
Below both women, in luminous blackletter: APRÈS LA VIE - MORT; APRÈS LA MORT - LA VIE DE NOUVEAU.
Nothing, just the edge of the crack sparkles in the dark. There may have been a writing here but you cannot make out what it said.
Small figures of wise men, common men, worshippers walk up the stairs to stand at her feet. Secret servicemen -- Therriers -- stand in a row guarding her. It must have taken years to produce this work in all its dizzying detail.
The shards glimmer in the dark -- you see little pearls of light on the edges of the crack that splits the female figure. Something was written there... remains of broken letters line the emulsion. What it said, you do not know.
There's a twisted logic in this mess... you see the ends of the ribbon, the way it flows, how it twists and turns... it's all starting to make sense. It'll be easier to remove now.
The bronze ribbon twists around and within the branches in an intricately natural pattern... but there's something...