Emotions will be displayed as: text {emotion}
(*) in script will indicate writer's notes.
Note: // dialogue taking up one line is the Soldier's / Player's dialogue (Left in for more context)
Note: This script is from the beta so there might be some weird things going on and there might be changes to the dialogue in the future
Abramod is an exiled old man who is very paranoid after losing his medallion which was his only proof of identity. Though initially hostile, he decides to trust the soldier with helping him make a new medallion but becomes a changeling in the end. When he is a changeling he should sound noticably off.
Lishvil is a changeling pretending to be Abramod's brother and is very fixated on obtaining a medallion. 

Abramod: Halt, stranger! If you value your life, do not take another step forward. {hostile, defensive}
Abramod: I have nothing left to give you! Leave, you and your kindred! {desperate, paranoid}
Abramod: You're completely unscathed? You must be powerful indeed, no changeling could defeat you. {surprised, wary}
Abramod: Still though, I have nothing for you. I even lack a medallion to prove my own identity... {ashamed, defeated}
// Medallion?
Abramod: Ah, you have lost yours too? Kindred spirits we are, dead to our worlds! {relieved, saddened/empathetic}
Abramod: Lost to my clan, dead to my family, assumed to be a brute beast of the worst sort... I am sure you can understand, being in the same state as myself? {bitter, vulnerable}
Abramod: It is some small comfort to find one in the same situation as myself. I will not pry into you, I know the value of secrets as well as anyone. But please, will you allow me a measure of catharsis and lend an empathetic ear so I may tell my tale? {tentative, pleading}
// No
Abramod: Ah, I understand. I need not burden you with the miseries of an old man {resigned, disappointed}
Abramod: You have returned! Now, are you willing to take a moment to listen to my tale? {hopeful, eager}
// Yes
Abramod: Then, let me tell you a story about losing your identity in the Mistwoods. About burning your medallion. {somber, reflective}

//The Past
Abramod: The forest here is safe, I ought to return home. {cautiously hopeful}
Abramod: ...Brother? {uncertain, longing}
Lishvil: Abramod... I want to come home now. {soft, manipulative}
Lishvil: If you give me your medallion, I can be with you again. {tempting, deceptive}
Abramod: If you can't show me your medallion, how could I know you are really you? {suspicious, guarded}
Abramod: There are creatures that take the shape of any man, and they want to kill us! It would be ignorant to not take it with you! {urgent, fearful}
Lishvil: Give me your medallion. I can become one of you. {insistent, predatory}
Abramod: You are not Lishvil. And judging by that, he disposed of his before you could get to it. {realization, grim}
Abramod: If it means you won't deceive my clan, I'll burn my medallion, like Lishvil did! You can kill me, but you will never be me! {defiant, resolute}
Abramod: Watch this, vile deceiver! {angry, confrontational}
Abramod: Hyup! There, if you want it so bad, go get it! {defiant, taunting}
Lishvil: NO! {furious, panicked}

//The Present
Abramod: That is my story. It is unfortunate it cannot have a happier ending, unless... {somber, cautiously hopeful}
Abramod: I do know how to make a new medallion, but it is a difficult task. Collecting the materials required for it would be more dangerous for my frail body than fending for myself out here... {weary}
Abramod: With you however, we might be able to gather them. If you prove yourself trustworthy, I could even help you make one as well. How does that sound? {hopeful}
// Yes
Abramod: Thank you, truly! {grateful, relieved}
Abramod: First, we will need a wooden base for the medallion. {focused, practical}
Abramod: There's an old, lightning struck tree to the south that we traditionally go to. {informing}
Abramod: I will write the directions to it for you and meet you by it. {normal}
// New Quest Start: Burning Bonds
Abramod: This tree was struck by lightning many generations ago. And yet it has remained standing, even after death. {reflecting}
Abramod: The bark from it has proven sturdy enough that it works well as a medallion's base. {normal}
Abramod: However it might be a bit, ah, difficult to reach. It is in part why I need your help. {slightly embarrassed}
Abramod: I will... assist you in climbing the tree. On your way down, you will need to hit 5 of healthier branches so we have enough bark. {instructing}
Abramod: I'll need to stay down here so I can collect the bark as it hits the ground. {normal}
Abramod: Are you ready? {normal}
// No
Abramod: If you need time to get your bearings, I understand. Come back when you're ready! {patient, supportive}
// Yes
Abramod: Alright, here you go! {encouraging}
Abramod: Looks like you didn't quite hit enough branches... {mildly disappointed}
Abramod: Try again? {encouraging}
Abramod: I understand. Talk to me again when you've caught your breath. {gentle, understanding}
Abramod: Good! This should be enough for the bases. {pleased, approving}
Abramod: Next we'll need to collect some resin to lacquer the medallion with. {focused}
Abramod: High in a mountain meadow to the east, a fern grows that excretes a resin that works well for the task. {informing}
Abramod: I'll write you some instructions on how to get there and see you once you arrive. {normal}
Abramod: This meadow is home to a rare fern that collect resin from to make our medallions. {normal}
Abramod: Do not go searching for it just yet though! It is also home to a poisonous fern that appears very similar to the one we need. {cautioning, serious}
Abramod: My eyes aren't so good anymore, so I'm going to need your help to tell them apart! {trusting}
Abramod: I'm going to toss the plants for you. You can pick them up by right-clicking them - even while they're still in the air! {light, slightly upbeat}
Abramod: Place the greener, healthier looking plants to the side where I am now. And you'll need to burn the poisonous, more sickly looking plants on the other side. {instructing}
Abramod: We'll need 8 of the good ferns to extract enough resin. But make sure the poisonous ferns don't build up too much or it could be dangerous for you! {concerned, cautioning}
Abramod: You'll only be able to pick up one at a time, so good luck! {encouraging}
Abramod: Ready? {normal}
// No
Abramod: I understand. I'll be here whenever you are. {patient}
// Yes
Abramod: Here you go! {encouraging}
Abramod: Looks like you didn't get enough! {disappointed}
Abramod: Want to try again? {encouraging}
// No
Abramod: Alright, I understand. {accepting}
Abramod: Talk to me whenever you're ready to try again. {patient}
Abramod: That should be enough resin! {pleased}
Abramod: There's only one final thing we need: knives to cut the bark with. {focused}
Abramod: Put that away, we don't need just any knife! {sharp}
Abramod: Tradition dictates we have to descend to a cave beneath this mountain where much of the fog of the Mistwoods settles. Deep inside are stones we've used for generations in carving our medallions. {serious}
Abramod: I'll write down the directions for you again and meet you there. {normal}
Abramod: This cave here is where much of the mist pools. You can't tell from here, but it's very windy in there! {warning}
Abramod: At its end is an outcrop of rock with some of the sharpest stalagmites you've ever seen formed from those harsh winds. {grim}
Abramod: You'll need to head in and reach that outcrop. I'll try and call out to you if I see any bursts of wind heading your way, but you'll have to dodge them on your own! {concerned}
Abramod: If you get hit you'll be blown back, but try not to be blown back too far. {cautioning}
Abramod: You can walk in once you're ready to start. {normal}
// You snap off a piece of the rock and return to Abramod.
Abramod: Excellent work! {impressed, approving}
Abramod: I'll meet you back at my campsite. {satisfied}
Abramod: Thank you so much again for all the help you've granted me! {grateful}
Abramod: Hello! {normal} *From here it seems Abramod is a changeling*
Abramod: We are going to make the medallion now, are we not? {eager, slightly impatient}
Abramod: It looks like I marked out for you the spots on the medallion that have to be cut out. {focused}
Abramod: All you have to do is cut them. Easy. {reassuring, slightly dismissive}
// No
Abramod: You're not ready!? Then get ready, quickly! We do not have time to waste. {impatient}
// Help Abramod make the medallion now?
Abramod: Good! I will drag the knife down. And you will push it in to cut! {commanding, energized}
Abramod: Good! Good! Look at how beautiful it is! {excited, proud}
Abramod: The intricacy! The style! With this, I will be able to get into any clan I want! {elated, obsessive} //Changeling
Abramod: But... there is a loose end isn't there. Even if I can go anywhere I want... you will always know, won't you? {paranoid, calculating} //Changeling
Abramod: You are a danger that cannot be allowed to persist! {cold, hostile, unhinged} //Changeling