"Ah, I thought I’d see you here. It’s been quite some time. It was never Kindly Miquella, was it? The Erdtree was leading you all along. So that you might ascend to lordship. Why come to these lands to begin with? I suppose it must be what his Eminence, or perhaps the Erdtree, desired all along. The clashing of the favored lords, such that one would prevail? So be it. If you insist upon facing Miquella the Kind, then I will run you through, whoever you might be. Don’t tarry now."

"Thank you, now i finally cast off my misgivings. Give my regards to honorable Ansbach, tell him, should we meet in battle. To face your bow would be fine enough, to face your blade would be an honor."

"Needle Knight Leda, Dryleaf Dane, and our allies, will never allow this."

"Miquella the Kind... will help us forget."

"Sad... forever?"

"A curse upon thee..."

"Mother... Marika..."

"Miquella the Kind...is a monster. Pure and radiant, he wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men. There is nothing more terrifying."

"Of the abyssal serpent, shorn of light."

"Soon, Tarnished, wilt thou be taken in the jaws..."

"O lightless creature... embrace thine oblivion, as shall I."

"Righteous Tarnished. Miquella the Kind makes my blood run cold. I am loath to admit it, but even at this very instant I wish to run very far away indeed."

"Gah... hah..."

"In the embrace of Messmer's flame."

"I... will not suffer... a lord devoid of light."

"Yet... My purpose standeth unchanged."

"O mother, wouldst thou truly Lordship sanction, in one so bereft of light?"

"Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death."

"O Mother, forgive me."

"Yes of course, I see. As the festival of war concluded, General Radahn's soul met an honorable end, but Kindly Miquella wishes to revive it. Which is fine by me. I know it would pain old Jerren but war has always suited General Radahn best. And certainly far more than any honorable death. Endless war to invigorate the soul, as befits General Radahn, the Great Lion."

"You were fine… in your part… Truly, a glorious battle...it was..."

"With a hail of harpoons! With every last drop of my being!"

"Solid of scale you might be, foul dragon... But I will riddle with holes your rotten hide!"

"Igon, when summoned to face Bayle the Dread."

"Ahh, drake warrior, dear friend. Grant me this one wish. Take this finger. My finger. Scale the jagged peak. Face Bayle the Dread. And when you do… Summon me. Summon my soul. My limbs are limbs no more. My heart is twice-over filled with fear. But a drake warrior I remain. And my soul yet lies on the mountain."

"Heh heh heh, ha ha ha! Ah ha ha ha! What a sight! A warrior true, if ever one there was! A fellow drake warrior! Igon, piteous Igon, do you not remember? Conjure your past! How once you were! When fear was yet foreign to ye! Heh heh... Ha ha ha"

"Curse you, Bayle! I hereby vow! You will rue this day! Behold, a true drake warrior! And I, Igon! Your fears made flesh!"

"Graaaaaargh! Bayle the Dread!... You shall haunt me no longer!"

"My shining star. Grant me a mother’s strength. Look here. At my fingers. I will be the true mother. And I will be the only mother!"

"Do you recall what I said? That Marika, and the fingers that guided her, were unsound from the start. Well, the truth lies deeper still. It is their mother who is damaged and unhinged. The fingers are but unripe children. Victims in their own right. We all need a mother, do we not? A new mother, a true mother, who will not give birth to further malady."

"Come no closer... No closer, I say! The madness wells!"

"I fear that you have borne witness to the whole of it. The conceits, the hypocrisy, of the world built upon the Erdtree. The follies of men. Their bitter suffering. Is there no hope for redemption? The answer, sadly, is clear. There never was any hope. They were each of them defective. Unhinged, from the start. Marika herself. And the fingers that guided her. And this is what troubles me. No matter our efforts, if the roots are rotten, then we have little recourse."

"Long ago, we began as stardust, born of a great rupture far across the skies. We, too, are children of the Greater Will. Is that not divine? Is that not sublime? And yet, none can fathom its implications, its utter brilliance!"

"Ever-young Miquella saw things for what they were. He knew that his bloodline was tainted. His roots mired in madness. A tragedy if ever there was one. That he would feel compelled to renounce everything. When the blame...lay squarely with the mother."

"Enough... I have endured... more than enough. I ask you forgive me, dearest Nanaya."

"Igon, upon Bayle's defeat."

"I abandon here the last of my fears."

"I abandon here my love."

"Oh, hello. Did you feel it? Miquella the Kind’s enchantment appears to have broken. But while my devotion to Kindly Miquella remains unchanged, by my troth, I am not so sure about the others. No, wait. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. I can wield my sword to cull the undeserving, those unfit to bask in Miquella the Kind’s presence. I should’ve thought of this earlier."

"I abandon here my doubt and vacillation."

"I abandon here my eye."

"I abandon here my heart."

"I’ve come to a realization. There’s ample evidence... Without Kindly Miquella’s influence... I’m quite mistrustful of others."