[Voice]
[The recording clicks on and he speaks with only the necessary pause, as if well used to such a device.]
And what manner of horror is it this time, I wonder? Has Yugash set us amidst impending ruin, or shall Maya pluck our passion until we rage over these quiet streets?
[His voice is dry and thin with a tick of irritation. There is something hollow beneath it, something profoundly troubled there, and he hides it poorly. He mutters next, and it's little more than snide.]
Gods may come and go, but are they not unchanging? Atra, Alaneo, Discordia. I see no difference.
[A brief pause.]
Well? What is it this time?
And what manner of horror is it this time, I wonder? Has Yugash set us amidst impending ruin, or shall Maya pluck our passion until we rage over these quiet streets?
[His voice is dry and thin with a tick of irritation. There is something hollow beneath it, something profoundly troubled there, and he hides it poorly. He mutters next, and it's little more than snide.]
Gods may come and go, but are they not unchanging? Atra, Alaneo, Discordia. I see no difference.
[A brief pause.]
Well? What is it this time?