Dead Air 3
dialogues/quests/dead_air/dead_air_3.dialogue
~ start Azra
Magnus in Prosperity. He's the only one I know who might read what I can't.
fimThe machine is whole again, reassembled, the casing wiped clean. The red light burns steady now, no longer blinking. Azra sits in front of it with his hands flat on the bench, not touching it.
The hardware's done. Every connection sound, the voice path rebuilt. By rights it should play clean end to end.
It doesn't.
There's a whole message under there, and something's been laid over it on purpose. A lock.
He says the word like it tastes wrong.
That's what kept me up. Nobody does this to a man calling home. And somebody did.
I've never seen the scheme they used, and it's not in any archive I keep. I keep a lot of them.
A short, tired laugh.
I've given my whole life to the idea that nothing should stay locked. That every voice belongs to anyone who wants to hear it.
And here I am, beaten by a box. No. But I know someone who might.
There's a man in Prosperity. Magnus. He trades in things people would rather stayed buried, and more strange signals have crossed his table than anyone alive.
He slides the Answering Machine across the bench toward you, then keeps his hand on it a second too long.
I don't like sending it to him. Everything I believe says a voice like this should be free. Everything I know about Magnus says he'll see a price the moment he looks at it.
sobre a missão Dead Air (Part 3)quest: accepted
Good luck!
fimquest: declined
He draws the machine back toward himself.
Come back when you change your mind
fim~ start Magnus
Magnus keeps a stall at the edge of Market Square that sells nothing in particular. Neat beard, salvaged suit jacket, the kind of face you forget while you're still looking at it. He watches you cross the square before you've decided to approach.
What do you need?
Azra.
A thin smile.
The man who thinks the world owes everyone a free copy of itself. He sent you to me. He must be out of better ideas.
You set the Answering Machine on his table. He presses the play control and listens to the locked static, the buried voice straining at its seams.
Something passes behind his eyes and is gone. He sets his hands flat and goes very still, the way Azra did, for a different reason.
conclui a missãoWe've seen this before. A long time ago. Long before it found its way into your pack.
He lets the word hang, then folds it away.
A figure of speech.
I can open this. The how stays with me.
I will make sure our shaman will get the invoice.
Without looking up.
Whatever you're hauling for the shaman, I'm here when you've finished wandering my square.
fimCódigo-fonte do diálogo
~ start c9479f7c-0c2a-4f58-abd1-660cdbcfe25b
if is_quest_accepted
if are_quest_requirements_met
Azra: Magnus in Prosperity. He's the only one I know who might read what I can't. [#end]
else
Azra: You lost a the machine?
- Yes, I'm sorry [#get_lost_quest_items]
Azra: *He slides the Answering Machine across the desk.* [#end]
It was found by one of my friends. Take it.
Please don't lose it again.
else
Azra: *The machine is whole again, reassembled, the casing wiped clean. The red light burns steady now, no longer blinking. Azra sits in front of it with his hands flat on the bench, not touching it.*
The hardware's done. Every connection sound, the voice path rebuilt. By rights it should play clean end to end.
It doesn't.
Azra: There's a whole message under there, and something's been laid over it on purpose. A lock.
*He says the word like it tastes wrong.*
- Who locks an old answering machine?
Azra: That's what kept me up. Nobody does this to a man calling home. And somebody did.
I've never seen the scheme they used, and it's not in any archive I keep. I keep a lot of them.
- Can't you break it?
Azra: *A short, tired laugh.*
I've given my whole life to the idea that nothing should stay locked. That every voice belongs to anyone who wants to hear it.
And here I am, beaten by a box. No. But I know someone who might.
Azra: There's a man in Prosperity. Magnus. He trades in things people would rather stayed buried, and more strange signals have crossed his table than anyone alive.
*He slides the Answering Machine across the bench toward you, then keeps his hand on it a second too long.*
Azra: I don't like sending it to him. Everything I believe says a voice like this should be free. Everything I know about Magnus says he'll see a price the moment he looks at it. [#quest_info=df1593dd-d8e7-4944-a134-099d222223a5]
if is_quest_accepted:
Azra: [quest: accepted][#end]
Good luck!
else:
Azra: [quest: declined] [#end]
*He draws the machine back toward himself.*
Come back when you change your mind
=> END
~ start 23956964-6b43-41fd-88da-41609da570db
if is_quest_accepted and are_quest_requirements_met
Magnus: *Magnus keeps a stall at the edge of Market Square that sells nothing in particular. Neat beard, salvaged suit jacket, the kind of face you forget while you're still looking at it. He watches you cross the square before you've decided to approach.*
What do you need?
- Azra sent me. He says you can read an encoding he couldn't.
Magnus: Azra.
*A thin smile.*
The man who thinks the world owes everyone a free copy of itself. He sent you to me. He must be out of better ideas.
Magnus: *You set the Answering Machine on his table. He presses the play control and listens to the locked static, the buried voice straining at its seams.* [#complete_quest]
*Something passes behind his eyes and is gone. He sets his hands flat and goes very still, the way Azra did, for a different reason.*
Magnus: We've seen this before. A long time ago. Long before it found its way into your pack.
- "We"?
Magnus: *He lets the word hang, then folds it away.*
A figure of speech.
Magnus: I can open this. The how stays with me.
I will make sure our shaman will get the invoice.
Magnus: [#load_quest=8f16d451-745c-4c2b-9a7d-15522e41409e]
elif is_quest_accepted
Magnus: *Without looking up.* [#end]
Whatever you're hauling for the shaman, I'm here when you've finished wandering my square.
=> END