(no subject)

[buffleheaded]

Aerie

Aerie: Nalia?
Nalia: Yes, my dear?
Aerie: How come you care so much for people?
Nalia: It has to start somewhere Aerie.
Aerie: What has to start?
Nalia: Love... justice... the rights of people to choose their own destiny in this world.
Aerie: But don’t the gods choose our destinies?
Nalia: Oh, Aerie, with the exception of Gond our gods are not clockmakers. They have made us living, breathing creatures with minds, emotions, and desires. Only birth and death are destiny, all else is choice and consequence... Come, the sun is setting and it casts long shadows on our thoughts.

(Aerie below 20 hit points)
Nalia: Could we get a bit of help over here? Someone in the party is injured and needs attention. Aerie, are you alright?
Aerie: It - It hurts, Nalia.
Nalia: We need a cleric here! She’s injured!
Aerie: It’s alright, I can - I shall heal myself.
(Aerie then casts a healing spell on herself)
Nalia: Alright, Aerie ... but be careful out there.

* TOB *
Aerie: Nalia, I noticed that you have been very quiet of late. Grim, even. Is ... something wrong?
Nalia: Just because I don’t feel the need to express every thought that crosses my mind, this is supposed to mean something is wrong?
Aerie: Well, no ... it’s just that you used to be friendlier.
Nalia: I’ve got a lot on my mind, Aerie. I’m not the same girl desperate to save her castle. I’m an archmage, now ... I could have handled those trolls myself, now, if I need to.
Aerie: That’s doesn’t mean you have to change, Nalia. You’re still the same person, aren’t you?
Nalia: When you have the power to disintegrate someone with little thought, it means you have to be more careful, Aerie. You should know this just as well as I.
Aerie: There’s no need to talk down to me like that. I know what you mean ... you just used to care more.
Nalia: I do care. Whining about how things should be better will not change things. Attaining the power to make real change might, however. But enough ... we’ve things to do.

*TOB*
Nalia: Aerie? Do you remember anything about your home?

Aerie: Faenya-Dael? A ... a little bit. I remember my mother, mostly. I remember missing it so much in the circus that my heart ached. I remember that the avariel used to make these open-aired buildings with great columns of marble. There were sculptures of glass that would burst with colors when the sun broke from the clouds.
Nalia: Do you ever intend to go back there?
Aerie: That ... that’s a cruel thing to ask. How could I?
Nalia: There’s no reason you couldn’t. You’re a powerful mage and cleric both. Finding it would be no trouble, now, and you deserve their respect wings or no wings.
Aerie: It’s not like that, Nalia. The avariel ... they would never accept me, like this. I wouldn’t be one of them.
Nalia: You could make them accept you. It isn’t right. You’ve been through so much ...
Aerie: I ... wouldn’t want to make them do anything. I don’t belong there anymore. I belong down here, as I am ... accepting that was far harder.
Nalia: I wouldn’t feel the same way ... but, then, it’s not my home. As long as you’re happy, Aerie.

Cernd

*TOB*
Nalia: I have a philosophical question for you, Cernd. If you’re willing, that is.
Cernd: A challenge, Nalia? Well, certainly ... I have nothing against more intellectual pursuits, although I do not claim anything like your own acuity.
Nalia: Don’t worry ... this is your territory. I was simply wondering about your feelings on (CHARNAME)’s place in the balance.
Cernd: Ah. I have given that considerable thought, actually.
Nalia: And? What are your conclusions? Does (CHARNAME) threaten the balance or not?
(If protagonist is evil)
Cernd: Our stalwart leader may be evil, it is true ... but this does not mean that (HE or SHE) threatens the balance. The balance may be served in the end, even unknowingly ... it is too early to say for certain. But either way, I would say that the potential for chaos is far greater than I would like. Hopefully we can influence the amount of chaos with our presence ... that is my hope, anyway. Why? What are your thoughts on the matter, Nalia?
Nalia: I’ve a few thoughts on the matter, but I choose to keep them to myself for now.
Cernd: That hardly seems fair.
Nalia: I mean no offense, Cernd. Thank you for your insight, however.
(If protagonist is not evil)
Cernd: Our stalwart leader may not be evil, it is true ... but there is a significant potential for destruction in (HIS or HER) taint. The balance could be served ... or harmed ... unknowingly, even. It is too early to tell. But either way, I would say that the potential for chaos is far greater than I would like. Hopefully we can influence the amount of chaos with our presence ... that is my hope, anyway. Why? What are your thoughts on the matter, Nalia?
(Remaining dialogue is the same for if the protagonist is evil).

Edwin

Edwin: Nalia, you are aware that adversity has the effect of eliciting talents, which otherwise would have lain dormant? What are yours, pampered one? Those talents lay abundantly inconspicuous ...
Nalia: Edwin, I was not pampered, cajoled, or spoiled! I wanted for little, but yearned for more than wandering about estates. Is it not true that you are of noble birthright yourself? Calling the kettle Red, Wizard? But that sort of comment coming from you is not any surprise, he would rather live on his knees than die on his feet.
Edwin: Ha ha ha ... I see the soft spitfire has a streak of wild child running through her. Keep living in your sanctified ignorance, Nalia, it is part of your charm.
Nalia: Nothing is more dangerous in this world to me, Edwin, than your stupidity.

Edwin: Nalia, you are aware that adversity has the effect of eliciting talents, which otherwise would have lain dormant? What are yours, pampered one? Those talents lay abundantly inconspicuous ...
Nalia: Edwin, I was not pampered, cajoled, or spoiled! I wanted for little, but yearned for than wandering about estates. Is it not true that you are of noble birthright yourself? Calling the kettle Red, Wizard? But that sort of comment coming from is not any surprise, he would rather live on his knees than die on his feet.
Edwin: Ha ha ha ... I see the soft spitfire has a streak of wild child running through her. Keep living in your sanctified ignorance, Nalia, it is part of your charm.
Nalia: Nothing is more dangerous in this world to me, Edwin, than your stupidity.

(While Edwin is a woman)
Nalia: An interesting little situation you have found yourself in, Edwin. I trust you will use it to better learn how others think and feel?
Edwin: No, my dear little wench, I will spend no more time in this body than I must. You think me a fool?
Nalia: But you could do so much more. How can you throw away this opportunity to walk a mile in another’s shoes? I would love such an ...
Edwin: Would you now? I would wish it on you if I could, but you do not mean what you say. You could do as such now, but you do not. Shed your wealth and harvest the fields. You walk no more in the shoes of those you pity than I would, and I pity everyone. The only shoes I wish are my own!
Nalia: But I just thought ...
Edwin: You thought I would desire to know the thoughts of others, but you were wrong. I have no such desire. Whatever the rest you think is irrelevant. My own thoughts, my own shoes, my own BODY! These are all that matter!

(While Edwin is still a woman)
Nalia: Edwin, you should learn to walk a little more dignified; carry yourself in a better manner.
Edwin: And exactly WHAT is wrong with my ‘manner’?
Nalia: You, well ... the way you walk about some might think you were ... of little moral fiber. You should present a more wholesome image if you are to remain like this.
Edwin: I will not remain like this! I will not ‘present a more wholesome image’, nor will I acknowledge this form in any way! I will not be this way for long!

Nalia: Very well then, but if we get too close to the docks you might find the less upstanding members of society getting more ... familiar than you would like. As well, I would suggest that you treat the party with civility, lest someone arrange for such an occurrence to happen. Perhaps nearer the zoo.
Edwin: (When the time comes, I must kill her first. Slowly, but first.)

HaerDalis’

Nalia: I can’t stand seeing all these taverns around the city. They exist simply to drain the poorer classes of their money and throw them into such a stupor that they can’t even realize their own oppression.
HaerDalis’: Aye, my darling loon, drink is to the poor what theater is to the rich; a costly chance to play out fantasies that may never come true.
Nalia: Don’t patronize me, HaerDalis’, for I have never done the same to you.
HaerDalis’: Ha, my dear, ‘tis true for had your family patronized me while I was still with the theater, I would be far wealthier than I am today.

*TOB*
Nalia: HaerDalis’, you are a playwright ... maybe you can answer something for me.
HaerDalis’: Ask, my pretty lark, and I shall do my best to satisfy your burning curiosity.
Nalia: Why is it that so many of the great tragedies have royalty as their central figures, but the great comedies focus on the common people?
HaerDalis’: Ah, that is truly a question for the ages and the sages. Perhaps tragedy is the noblest of tragic forms, and as such demands a noble subject?
Nalia: Maybe it’s because most playwrights are common folk, at least in the class structure sense. Maybe the resent the abuses of the rich and powerful, and see their art as a way to symbolically destroy the upper class.
HaerDalis’: Your explanation lacks the soaring wings of poetry, dear Nalia. It is far too rooted in the troubles of the real world. The stage is our escape from mundane life.
Nalia: But shouldn’t art be more than an escape? Can it not also be an instrument of political and social change? Isn’t that more valuable than mere escapism?
HaerDalis’: Nalia, escapism has its place - as does dramatic social commentary. But attempting to determine their relative worth is an argument that will last far beyond our lifetimes.
Nalia: True enough, I suppose. We shall leave this conversation, for now. Just as well ... we are lagging behind the others.

Imoen

*TOB*
Imoen: Nalia, do you intend to go back to your castle once all of this over?
Nalia: I don’t know. Perhaps. If I do, though, things will have to be different.
Imoen: Different in what way?
Nalia: There’d be changes in the law and taxation ... and some real alternations to the system of land ownership. There’s a base inequality amongst people that I can begin to address in my land.

Imoen: Wow. Sounds like you’ve given this some serious thought.
Nalia: Making changes in my father’s duchy wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to get onto the Council of Six, as well ... although that plan is a bit more complicated.
Imoen: That’d be a neat trick, bringing change to all of Amn. Wouldn’t those Roenalls still be a thorn for you, though? And what about the Cowled Wizards?
Nalia: I’m an archmage, Imoen ... just like you. The Roenalls won’t stop me from doing what I know is right. And I could always join the Cowled Wizards ... how many of them are as powerful as I?
Imoen: Okay, somebody’s getting a little scary ...
Nalia: Nonsense. It’s called growing up. I have a responsibility as a noblewoman and a mage, both, and eventually I will have to live up to them.

Jaheira

(Nalia below 10 hit points)
Jahiera: You are quite unused to the pain of battle, are you not? I can see it in your face.
Nalia: It shows, does it? I hoped I would be of some help to those less fortunate, but I seem to be quite prone to bruising.
Jaheira: You will learn many harsh realities out here, but you will also learn to deal with them. Or you may die. One or the other.
Nalia: Thanks for your support ... I think.

*TOB*
Jaheira: Well, little Nalia, you seem to have grown quite accustomed to the power you now wield.
Nalia: Why do you bring this up now, Jaheira? You have that tone in your voice again.
Jaheira: ‘That’ tone? I do not understand what you mean.
Nalia: Yes you do. It’s that ‘time for an unnecessary lecture’ tone that means you are about to caution me about the use of the power I have earned.
Jaheira: I see. And what do you think the outcome of such a conversation would be?
Nalia: Well, I believe that I would tell you I have found my true calling, that you should probably butt out, and that I would really prefer you to refrain from calling me ‘little Nalia.’
Jaheira: Determined to do good works no matter what the world thinks, is that the gist of it?
Nalia: Yes, that would be the gist of it.
Jaheira: Then I agree that the lecture would be unnecesary. I need say nothing.
Nalia: You ... what? Thank you, Jaheira.

Jan Jansen

Nalia: All this travelling is beginning to wear on me ... I can’t remember the last time I walked so much in a single day. Hah ... it’s something my Aunt should try, I think, instead of being hauled about in her gilded carriage.
Jan: Nalie, dearie, you remind me so much of Cletus Bifflelips, my second cousin, thrice removed.
Nalia: I don’t think that I could be very much like a person named Cletus.

Jan: You wouldn’t think so, yet here we are. You see, Cletus had a propensity for bouts of violent projectile vomiting. We’d call him, Cletus the Room Clearer Bifflelips.
Nalia: Please, Jan! This is too ridiculous, even for you!
Jan: Now just bear with me for a moment, Nali. You see, it was after one such bout that Cletus, feeling ill, took a painful stroll down to the local witch-woman, in the vague hope that she might have a cure for his problem. After paying the 1000 gold piece consulting fee and vomiting in the proffered bucket, the witch gave Cletus an herbal tea, which he was to drink twice per day for a score of days. Drinking it everyday on schedule, yet failing to notice any change in his condition, Cletus began to worry. Upon finishing his final cup of tea, Cletus vomited.
Nalia: This is disgusting, Jan.
Jan: No need to force your ridiculously high standards on poor, deceased Cletus.
Nalia: I’m sorry. His illness killed him, did it?
Jan: Actually, he’s not dead. I made that part up. Well, needless to say, Cletus was somewhat angry so he went back to confront the witch. She had, of course, taken the money and left town. But in her haste to escape the vomiting wrath of Cletus Bifflelips, the witch left behind her belongings. Cletus, at the height of his anger, swiped her entire collection of novels written by noted folklorist, Nalia de Bouche. I’ll be the first to admit that revenge was not Cletus’ forte.
Nalia: Honestly, Jan, that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.
Jan: Well, they can’t all be gems. ‘Tis one of my favorites, however.

*TOB*
Jan: Nalia, my dear, you’ve been positively morose of late. Probably from studying all those scrolls. You remind me of Gorion ... prior to his addiction to poppy seed muffins, of course.
Nalia: Jan, I’m really not in the mood for any silliness. W’ere here with a purpose.
Jan: Exactly! And I’ve been recording (CHARNAME)’s adventures in a suitably epic story. Ending’s not clear but the rest is dynamo. Maybe you can help me come up with a title?
Nalia: (sigh) Why not just call it, ‘adventures of (CHARNAME)’ or something like it? I’m no writer, Jan, I probably can’t help you.
Jan: Nonsense! You just need the proper inspiration. Hmm ... maybe, ‘The Bhaal Cabal’? How about ‘Fall of the Bhaal Cabal’?
Nalia: Yes, fine. Use that.
Jan: How about, ‘Fall of the Bhaal Cabal Hall’? Oo! I know! ‘Fall of All the Bhaal Cabal from the Tall Wall of the Hall.’ Yes! Yes, perfect!
Nalia: (giggle!) You’re incorrigible, Jan.
Jan: Now *there’s* a smile I like to see!

Keldorn
(In the Noble Order headquarters)
Nalia: So this is the guildhouse of the infamous Noble Order of the Most Radiant Heart, is it?

Keldorn: Infamous? Miss Nalia, we members of the Radiant Heart pride ourselves on bringing a little good into this dark world. Only the brightest, most upstanding members of all the Holy Orders are ever granted the privilege of membership.
Nalia: Such as yourself, Keldorn?
Keldorn: Humbly, Ma’am, yes.
Nalia: And the Order pays for your estate?
Keldorn: My lady Nalia, understand this: any soul of any social rank may join the Holy Orders and therein be judged by the purity of their heart, male or female. ... unlike some who take it upon themselves to criticize, we were not born into wealth and luxury.
Nalia: And yet these halls and all your sacred vows are only reserved for us humans ... Believe what lies you wish, Keldorn, but it shan’t make them any truer.

*TOB*
Nalia: Keldorn, tell me ... you have served in the order for a very long time. Do you still believe that what they do is truly relevant? That it’s worthwhile?
Keldorn: Of course I believe that is the case. I could not serve if I lacked the faith that that is so. Why do you ask such a thing?
Nalia: It ... just seems so pointless to me? I don’t mean to offend, but it seems that no matter how much evil gets vanquished, there is still so much horror in the world. It doesn’t get better.
Keldorn: Aye. Sometimes it is enough to make the soul grow weary, child, just to think of it.
Nalia: And some of the worst acts are committed by those who aren’t even considered evil. Nobles and, clergy for instance ... gross injustices against people who don’t know any better.
Keldorn: True. The Order can only do what it can, Nalia. We try. And perhaps the fact that we try and do not give up is just as important as the good we accomplish.
Nalia: I ... I suppose. It just seems hopeless sometimes. Like nothing will ever change.
Keldorn: T’is only the impatience of youth, Nalia. Things will change, in time. But only if truly good folk such as yourself do not despair and give up hope completely. The world needs your courage.
Nalia: Th-thank you, Keldorn. I think I needed to hear that.

Korgan

Korgan: Nalie, ye’re overtall, beardless, long-limbed, and lack strength. Ye disgust me.
Nalia: What provoked this hostility, Korgan?
Korgan: Ye deserve the full wrath of my ire, weakling! Ye deserve it because ye’re a coddled, priviledged imbecile, a sad, little, nobleman’s offspring! With what grout ye’ve left, never quest what I’ve to say, else each night upon the morn ye awake screaming for fear of what I may do to ye!
Nalia: I’m sorry, Korgan. I seek no conflict and wish only to be left alone. Forgive my slights, if I made any.
Korgan: Ye quiver and wither like all the others. Ye’re a gutless coward. And so ye’ll stay.

Mazzy

Nalia: Look at how these people squander their wealth. Children lie starving in the streets while the wealthy concern themselves with acquiring the latest Calimshan silks.
Mazzy: You are angry, my friend. This I understand implicitly. Injustice and indifference have always been the banes of our society, and pose more of a danger to us than any dragon ever could. But will all things, there are two sides. Oppose injustice, but do so wisely. Some rich may act in their lives as they do because they are told or even forced.
Nalia: Ignorance has always been a convenient excuse for the rich to live out their lives in comfort.
Mazzy: The trappings of one’s family and past are not easy to throw away. It takes more than a glimpse of poverty to bring an epiphany to someone.
Nalia: It can be done. My noble birth does not affect my actions today, but I agree that most nobility will not understand poverty until they suffer it themselves.
Mazzy: That may be true, but by casting the rich down, are we not merely creating a new impoverished class?
Nalia: For a time, yes. But the poor understand what it’s like to be trampled on. They would show compassion.
Mazzy: Nalia ... no offense, but you are not poor; your children will not starve. You empathize, but you may be blinded by the romance of saving the impoverished, Allow me to tell you a tale. In a distant barony there was a village, lorded over by a Baron given to excesses of body and spirit. Comely lasses of the village were taken for his personal harem, and he taxed heavily to pay for his pleasures. His guards kept strict order under threat of death. Now, it came to pass that a man named Kalos fell in love with a woman named Dana. A marriage was set for after harvest. Kalos and Dana were filled with joy. Soon after, the Baron came to the village collecting taxes. He saw the beautiful Dana, and he had his guards take her so that he could posses her. When Kalos heard that Dana was gone, he and his friends took up what arms they could. They stormed the Baron’s manor unthinking, like men gone beserk. Kalos himself killed the Baron, and holding Dana, his rage passed. Then he saw the richness of the manor, and the thought of how unfairly and how poorly he had lived. He took the golden chain of rank, placed it on his head, and sent his young men out to collect the taxes, for was he not now the Baron? Anyone can be weak, Nalia. We like to hope that the oppressed never become the oppressor, that we would behave better than those above. Alas, it is not always so.
Nalia: Perhaps this is something that I should think upon, but I still say there is no excuse for the actions of some.
Mazzy: That is all I can ask, Nalia. In the meantime, as I have heard it said, we be adventurers, let us adventure.

*TOB*
Nalia: Ow! What was that for, Mazzy? Why did you bump me?
Mazzy: To remind you to keep your eyes on the road ahead. You were far away from here, Nalia, and in our current life that can mean death in an instant.
Nalia: I was *not* day-dreaming, Mazzy. I was going over several spell-incantations ... spells which might serve to save you, someday, I might add.
Mazzy: I didn’t say you were day-dreaming. But there is little difference.
Nalia: But there is *plenty* of difference. I am no longer the dreamy, pathetic girl who could barely put together a cantrip. I’m an archmage!

Mazzy: You needn’t prove anything to me, Nalia. You were never pathetic, and I know how powerful you are now.
Nalia: It takes a lot of work! I have to be careful with spells of this magnitude!
Mazzy: I know. But do you know, Nalia, that you weren’t responsible for the death of your father? Just because you weren’t powerful enough, then?
Nalia: I ... I *wish* ...
Mazzy: So do I. But there’s nothing to be done. I am a much greater warrior now ... I might have saved Patrick had I been greater, then. But it wasn’t to be. Learn to reconcile that. Keep your eyes on what lies ahead ... it’s the only way to find peace within yourself.
Nalia: I suppose you’re right. You’re a good friend, Mazzy.

Minsc

*TOB*
Nalia: Minsc, I wanted to take a moment to say something with you.
Minsc: Boo and I always have time to speak with our friends, right Boo?
Nalia: Eh, yes. Well, I just wanted to say that your unwavering fight against evil has been a good influence on me.
Minsc: And now you would like a hamster.
Nalia: What?
Minsc: Just a guess.
Nalia: Well, no, I just wanted to let you know that I’m thankful for your example ... perhaps excluding the hamster part of it.
Minsc: As you wish, but I couldn’t imagine a Minsc without a Boo. We are two peas in a pool, two fists in a face, two feet on the floor, and too much for most villainy.

Sarevok

*TOB*
Nalia: Keep your eyes off me, Sarevok. I don’t know what you are, but I don’t want you near me.
Sarevok: Ah. So the sorceress can sense the difference in me, can she? Do I alarm you, girl?
Nalia: I know that you’re not truly alive, and not undead. You’re flesh, but not truly alive no matter what (CHARNAME) did to you. So keep away.
Sarevok: You show curiosity in every other matter related to magic, yet I make you nervous? Are you sure it is for the reasons you think?
Nalia: What do you mean?
Sarevok: I mean that, to you, I am evil. I am powerful and forceful and authoritative ... and you fear those qualities within yourself.
Nalia: That’s not true1 I ... I’m a good person!
Sarevok: And where has it gotten you? Have you vanquished evil, yet? What gets results, better, from what you’ve seen?
Nalia: It ... It isn’t like that. Results aren’t everything.
(If Sarevok is evil)

Sarevok: You mouth words you don’t understand. Once you get over this delusion you shall see things as I do, girl. As they truly are. It is called ‘reality’.
Nalia: You can’t fool me. I know what it’s called, and where your path ends! So stop trying to play mind games with me!
Sarevok: As you wish. You shall see the truth soon enough.
(If Sarevok changed alignment)
Sarevok: Hm. Perhaps you are right, girl. But the doubt you show tells me you should watch yourself most carefully. I’ve known many who started as you did ... and died as I did.

Valygar

Valygar: I wonder, Nalia. Why is it that you struggle to be so different from what your family asks of you?
Nalia: I am uncomfortable with their wealth, Valygar. There are so many who live in squalor, and yet we are supposed to hoist ourselves above them because we are nobles?
Valygar: You cannot solve all problems with wealth, Nalia.
Nalia: Tell that to a starving peasant.
Valygar: I do not think that they are as unhappy as all that, really. Was your father a cruel man, then?
Nalia: Well, no ... of course not. But that has -
Valygar: My family was afflicted by our curse; I knew little of affection or care. I would have given up all wealth for the sane, loving parent your father was.
Nalia: I ... I suppose ...
Valygar: Believe it, Nalia. One day it will truly be too late.

*TOB*
Nalia: I can feel your steely gaze upon my neck, Valygar. Does my presence still anger you so much?
Valygar: I would be lying if I said that I was not wary around you, Nalia. You have become far greater in the arcane arts than all but a handful of mages who have walked the Realms.
Nalia: I thought you had learned to set your unfounded prejudices against mages aside, Valygar. I am sorry to see I was wrong.
Valygar: I have learned to accept that magic may used for both evil and good, Nalia. But I have not forsaken my belief that such power can corrupt if a mage is not constantly on guard.
Nalia: I know who and what I am, Valygar. Magic cannot change that. And I refuse to spend my life ‘constantly on guard’ against this corruption you feel is so inevitable.
Valygar: That is why I am wary. I must maintain a vigil against the corruption that you refuse to acknowledge as even possible.
Nalia: And if you see signs of this corruption in me? What then, Valygar?
Valygar: We must both pray that it never comes to that. I will leave you be, Nalia. But my eyes are ever watching.

Viconia

Viconia: So, Nalia, saved any poor from their impoverished status lately? Perhaps that peculiar urgency of yours could be put to better use by passing out noonmeats to vagabonds and coins of the realm to every cutpurse, hm?
Nalia: Viconia, it’s simply a matter of even matter of distribution of goods. There are those whose consumption is a crime against nature, and that injustice should be corrected whenever possible.
Viconia: Your egalitarian streak is an affront to determinism. The poor remain poor because they are lacking in self-will and determination to seek higher stations. Your pity and endowments only serve to perpetuate their condition and diminish their motivation to improve their lot.
Nalia: My kinship with the disenfranchised is my own affair, Viconia. To deny the help of our fellows is cruel arrogance. And I am simply not that type of person.
Viconia: That bleeding heart of yours must cost you a small fortune in laundering. Child, you’re adrift in denial.

Yoshimo

Yoshimo: Young lovely, we must be wary, here ... any traps we encounter, it is up to us to find and disarm them before they bring harm to the rest of the party.
Nalia: I think that goes without saying.
Yoshimo: But I have seen many traps intricate enough to fool even the most able. I remember one I encountered long ago ... it worked as a pressure plate via springs set into wood.
Yoshimo: To disarm it, you need to pull the wood back just enough to slip a dagger between the plate and the springs. It requires finesses and patience, my young one.
Nalia: If I had wanted your tutelage, surely I would have asked for it!
Yoshimo: I can not bear to have you angry with me. I just do not want to see you hurt. A friend can do no less.
Nalia: I know, Yoshimo. I’m not angry with you, really ... I’m just nervous. I would feel very guilty if I set off a trap by accident.
Yoshimo: You will not, Nalia ... I have confidence in you!
Nalia: I will try not to disappoint.