Firstborn Dialogue COMPLETE/NEED MISC.

MAKE SURE TO HAVE AUDIO RECORDINGS SET FOR MONO, NOT STEREO
SPLIT EACH INDIVIDUAL LINE INTO ITS OWN FILE
KEEP QUALITY CLEAN AND CLEAR THROUGHOUT
HAVE THE AUDIO BE AS LOUD AS YOU CAN MAKE IT WITHOUT AUDIBLE CLICKING OR NOISE

COMMENTS IN BRACKETS {} ARE SPOKEN/DONE BY THE PLAYER
COMMENTS IN BRACKETS [] IS WHAT THE PLAYER IS DOING OR WHERE THEY ARE

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FirstBorn:
Son of Warchief
Like a spoiled child, impulsive and brash.
Very eager to show off martial prowess, tries to get on frontline to impress father
Although resentful of fathers passiveness and mercy, Firstborn kills prisoners and civilians without any regard to consequences.
Disdain for you due to stealing spotlight
20-30 years old
Very tall and well built

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{You're hastening our demise with these brutal acts, why don't you listen to your father?}

Speaking up to me, Newblood? Best show respect for the next chief else you make yourself hound meat.

'Cos it's a matter of time till my father gasps his last, then there aint gonna be anyone holdin' me back.

{You're going to start fights with other Orcs when we're already beset on all sides by Bretons?}

Think ya know what it takes to be chief? It takes steel! Mettle! Blood! I'm going have this whole land under my heel. And no fresh-face like you is gonna tell me otherwise.

Ever if all the little manpigs come swarmin' right here and now, I'll be ready. With or without traitor-grocks.

Take down as many manmers with us, bleed their kingdoms dry. I'll die happy hearing the screams of breton babes as I cleave my way through their men.

There'll be no border where my reign wont cross. No longer are we gonna run, we'll relent and bring these pale pigmen to the slaughter.


That old man got a good taste of you - too soft to see a failure when he sees one.

{Like father, like son.}

Ha, you're a quick one. Better hope those jokes can defend against this hammer, right between your eyes.

{I'm not here to fight among kin, your father said you had a task for me.}


I'm the chief-to-be, 'course I got plans - and you're a spare hand.

Had one of ours shout about those forest bretons, north of that town. They got inside the town and ran with something shiny - a necklace.

{Give us the where and what.}

Better not get into the habit of interuptin'...

Got told they ran up into that forest, sinking into one of their holes, bang in the center of that valley. Gonna need you to go take a look, find whoever has it and gut him, then bring it to me.

Though from what I 'eard, that cave aint quite too pretty itself - one cesspit to the next - I need you to go in that hole and find me that amulet. There's a lord behind those stone walls to the east who'll be mighty mad if we nab it.

From dunghole to dunghole, best get comfortable with your new life, newblood.

{Here's the amulet.}

How did you? Giv' it here, better not be jestin' with some fake.

*Inspects amulet closely*

Nah, that's good material right there - forged for royalty alright. Thought you'd be worm food for sure - Malacath must be punishing me with your triumph. A challenger to my rule.

{What now?}

Me and you are done, so if you want to be a loyal dog then chief can always chuck ya a bone. But remember newblood, no Orc respects a slave who does the work of others.

So if you're hoping the chief will pass power to you once he's kicked it, then you better wake up. Now go, get off.

[Scene where Firstborn comes across his dead father, with you being a witness]

What happened here?

What's dat stink? What's this?

Father?! Who did this to you?

What did you do? I knew I couldn't trust scum like you. I'm gonna split you open.

Traitor pig, should have went wit my gut and crushed you when you first came.

Sticking up for this rat? Come to stand against my rule too? Gonna have two crushed heads today.

*Sigh* This is a curse - that town turned into some screaming red realm, thought I'd died and went straight to the ashpit. But nah, I'm alive.

What's happenin' huh? Demons over there tore down half our boys, we had to run back. Botched the whole thing.

I thought it was Malacath blessing us for battle - but I know our god's touch, and that was something else.


[Scene where Firstborn is talking to another warchief, after having base raided by bretons]

Watch your lips, mention father again and I'll fine the bluntest log to impale you on.

Good friends you got here, this is what you get for talking to those outside our kin.

I know just the hole to get more muscle.

Quiet, little gretchin. Never knew about this dig till father had a word; A quarry, to the west of where we're standing.

Got a lot of ours in there, and I bet they're eager to split some manmer's in two.

Ha, don't worry. We only need one of us in there, we got a real smart volunteer right here. Trust me, I've seen this one do miracles.

Ready for your sacrifice, bloodkin? You're going in there, and you're gonna cause a stir. Gotta look authentic though, forgive us.

Newblood, ready for your sacrifice?

{Do I have a choice?}

What's wrong newblood? Aint got love for your kin?

And nah, you don't. I make the choices now little one, I'm the chief.

Club him.

Sleep well. *laughs*


Did you see anyone escape? Heard that pretty boy prince was here, wanna see his face hanging off my hammer.

{Yeah, he went into the barracks.}

Go get him then, I'll be right behind ya. I wanna see the golden boy squeal.

[Scene where you confront the firstborn, after he betrayed and attempted to kill you]

You! Still alive?! Is Malacath testing me?

{Such is the way of Orcs, to struggle and endure.... Something a coward like you wouldn't understand.}


Dare insult your chief?! I'll have you gagging on the roughest pike here, have the crows finish you off. Our kin have me to thank for their hides.

You know what...

I'm feeling generous - those bretons in blue,  in the west, the ones who sent you. They need more cattle and slaves, I'll sell you to the highest bidder, then maybe you can keep your life.

{I'd rather send them your head}

No more words then, the time time has come - the chief must do away with the traitor.


{What are you going to do as chief?}

Doubtin' that I can lead, little one? I got plans, lot of 'em have to do with ridding us of jumped up newbloods who're looking for a shot at being chief.

Rest are the same as father's, kill bretons, wherever we find them. Carve them like the cattle they are, I aint dyin' till I'm drownin' in manmer tears.

{Your father didn't sound like he wanted just that}

It wont matter what he wanted when I'm chief. My words will be law when I mantle father, lest you're thinking otherwise?

Cos if you are, then you got two options, your body to the hounds or fodder for those boys in blue, far away from here.

{Boys in blue?}

Father's old boys, rolled with them way back, breton manpigs from that Wayrest dump. If I play my hand well, could get them to send us gifts; food, blade and orc bodies - better chance at survivin'.

If we beat these bretons here then those other manmer's could stake me some land, or I could just it.

{You're gonna betray us for these bretons?}



Dig out ya ear's little gretchin, I'm bettering our odds. Now put a leash on that tongue else I'll rip it straight from that frail face of yours.

[Scene where firstborn interrogates and kills a breton scout]

Father told me to calm down, father told me to speak softly to the bretons.

Now don't disappoint father, little Breton. Tell us what you were doing 'round here.

Sorry father, I can't change my nature.

Talking to pigs *Snort* Waste of our time.

[Scene where Firstborn burns a pit full with Bretons]

Poor piggies, looks like your boys betrayed you. Aint no one saving you now. *Laughs*

Nothing makes me hungrier than grilled pig.

[Scene where Firstborn escapes from shack, telling other orcs to burn it down with you still in it]

Ha, look at that. You truly are a champion aren't ya.

{Guess I am, now get me outa here.}

Haha, you aint got it yet newblood. This is where it ends, the boys up top think you're dead.

So we don't wanna shock 'em by saying otherwise, had enough surprises already.

And we can't have them knowing of your triumph lest you start getting..."ambitions". There can only be one Warchief, and it aint gonna be you.

{You can't do this, you'll ruin everything.}

Ha! But I can! What are you gonna do huh? Words aint gonna move metal or earth - words just gonna make you choke faster while you're buried here.

May I see you in the ashpit newblood. We'll drink to your sacrifice.

Pop the barrels! Set this shack alight!




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[Plans for further dialogue]

{Ask firstborn what he's planning to do when he becomes chief, he tells you of ambitions to conquer breton towns and be a warmonger.}