The Essence Of Balance Is Detachment. To Embrace A Cause, To Grow Fond Or Spiteful, Is To Lose One's Balance, After Which, No Action Can Be Trusted. Our Burden Is Not For The Dependent Of Spirit.
— Mayar, The Third Keeper
"You must learn how to move unseen. Stay in the shadows, avoid the light."
— Keeper Artemus
Before Death Came, The Liars Were Made To Feast Upon The Hands Of The Thieves, And The Thieves Were Made To Ingest The Tongues Of Their Liar Brothers, And We Praised The Master Builder For His Judgements.
— The Hammer Book of Tenets
Mysterious Benefactor: A refreshment, Mr. Garrett? I'm in the possession of a superior brandy, that has the most - restorative effect.
Garrett: I'd prefer my payment in caaash, not liquor. Mister... err?
Mysterious Benefactor: My apologies. I've been watching you, Mr. Garret. So closely in fact that I'm afraid, I'd forgotten we haven't actually met yet. I am — Constantine. (Offers Garret a tumbler of green spirit)
Garrett:(unruffled, he takes the proffered drink) All this time I thought you were going to pay me. You've brought me here to kill me?
Constantine: But you have it all wrong, Mr. Garrett. Would it surprise you to know that it was I who hired you to steal my own sword? Yes... You see, Viktoria and I are—
Constantine:Yeees. You were being tested, do you understand? And I must say, you more than live up to your reputation. You are quite an extraordinary thief.
Garrett:(unamused at being a cat's paw) Testing me? What is it that you want from me, Constantine?
Constantine: I am a collector, Mr. Garret. But there are some items that are not available for purchase. they must be acquired using other means. In this case, the item in question would be best acquired by thieving. Not simple thieving, no... I need an artist, like yourself.
Garrett: What exactly is this — item.
Constantine: It is the gemstone called: The Eye. For its unusual—
Viktoria: Appearance.
Constantine: Yes. Kept hidden in the sealed cathedral deep inside the halls of the scum Hammerites. Oh, but forgive me. You are - possibly, friendly with the Order of the Hammer?
Garrett: No... Fanatics make unreliable friends.
"Of course... Victoria, are you prepared to give Mr. Garrett his...Compensation? ... Did you think those ancient phrases were mere words, manfool?! LOOK AT ME! I... am the Woodsie Lord! The Trickster of Legend! If you be thirsty, thirsting, drink of me! If you be hungry, then feed dry on the Honeymaker and the Jacksberry. ... My poor Mister Garrett, you will not live to see the sprawling glory of it! Your sacrifice is not yet complete! Mine lilacs and mine thistles must feeds, and I? Stands He then in the greens and festered Maw and speeds He out his judgements upon the weeps and writhing manfools!"
— The Trickster
"Since you left us, you have been a stone rolling downhill. Now you must aim this remarkable momentum. It is past time for the balance to shift."
— Keeper
"Vine, grow and twine! Green and curl, chokes and bind! Leaves unfurl, thornsie spine, tumble wall! Wreath in vine, cover all! Leafies mine, call the vine, call the green, bringsie forth world be seen!"
"Storm, black and blow! Swirly gust, rain winds flow! Pushing dust, storm clouds grow! Darksie clouds, lightning throw! Misty shrouds, freezie snow! Call the storm, call the grey: bringsie forth World's old way!"
"Flame, burning heat! Fences charred, blazey sheet! Black 'n' tar, manflesh meat! Melting gears, dance and leap! Manfool's fear, come to reap! Call the fire, call the red, bringsie forth past not dead!"
"Tide, rise and fall! River flood, rain and squall! Churny mud, dam break all! Sea waves wash, swampy squall! Sewer slosh, drainpipes stall! Call the wave, call the blue: bringsie forth world anew!"
"Stone, grind and quake! Shatter tile, columns shake! Brick unpile, chip and flake! Darkie soil, windows break! Earthie toil, wall unmake! Call earth, call the brown, bringsie back world thrown down."
"Night, smother light! black break lamp, done with bright! Dew and damp, smother tight! Dark in hide, foolsie sight! Stay inside, fear the night! Call the dark, call the black, bringsie forth, I call it back!"
— The Trickster's Dark Ritual
Garrett:(makes a sound of contempt) Keepers!
Keeper Artemus: So — you think you've won.
Garrett: I think I've got my eye back.
Artemus: Yet... still... you are blind.
Garrett: If you hadn't noticed, I just saved the world. Yourself included.
Artemus: As we knew you would. As it had to be.
Garrett: Now I remember why I left the Keepers...
Artemus: And I remember why we let you go.
Garrett: What do you want from me? (acidly) You come to congratulate me? Welcome me back to the fold?
Artemus: Very well. I will speak my peace plainly. You have accomplished that which was written, and yes... you've done it well. But there is no place for you with us any longer. Yet you will have a great need of us, and soon.
Garrett: I don't think so. I'm through with heroics. And with your kind as well.
Artemus: You cannot run from life as you did from us, Garrett. Life has a way of finding you. No matter how artistic a sneak you are. Listen... there is a book that you were not made aware of. I'm here to tell you that it would be wise for you to read it now; if you can still read hieroglyphs.
Garrett: I do try to forget, but you Keepers leave them everywhere for me.
Artemus: Yes. You have more friends than you know.
Garrett: Tell my friends that I don't need their secret book. Or their glyph warnings, or their messengers. Tell them I'm through. Tell them it's over. Tell them Garrett — is done! (strides away into the night like the noir legend he is)
Artemus: I will tell them this: nothing has changed. All is as it was written. The Trickster is dead. Beware the dawn... of the Metal Age.
Blessed Be The Forge, Which Gives Shape Unto Metal, And Steam Unto The Boiler. Blessed Be The Fire Of The Builder And The Forge Of Karras.
— Common Mechanist Prayer
"My hand is copper. My brow is lead. Suffer me in a red patina, swept along in a molten flow, to a sad eternity. My stride interrupted. My thoughts untimed. My tears are become drops of silver, that shatter the crystalline fern. I plead the wind to sweep us away. My alabastrine limbs, useless and tired, my carnelian heart, beatless and mired. I pick the gilded apple from the iron tree. I wipe the rust from my brow. The earth rejects me, foul and changed, the wind refuses me, unsightly and maimed. My voice is corrupted, my tongue unwind, my pulse is mercurial sickened, it slows. Destiny and danger are still focused on the one, the renegade who is both brethren and betrayer. Beware the spider, for he weaves both labyrinth and lair. My heart it ceases, my breath undrawn. My eyes forever focused on the sanguine metal dawn."
