Guard 1: Look out. We got a problem.
The Heart: When the last leviathan is gone, darkness will fall.
Guard 1: Look sharp. We got a problem.
Guard 1: Look out. We got someone scoping around.
Guard 2: Well, I'll find you.
Guard 3: You won't stay hidden for long.
Guard 4: You filthy mud lark! Where'd a tramp like you get elixir? We've been on half rations for a week! I ain't catching the plague. Hand it over!
Female: No, please! It's for my baby! He needs it!
Guard 4: It's us that... Hey, you! Get lost! This here is a private party!
Female: Help, sir! It's impossible!
Guard 5: Help! Damn you!
Female: Thank you! Thank you! You saved me! How can I thank you? I have nothing. Wait. Take this. It's the back door service key to Bunting's house, the art dealer on the main street. I used to work for him, you know, before the plague. He's let all his servants go, but he's still there, probably hoping he'll be able to sell something from that safe of his. I don't know what he has left, but it's all I have to offer you. Please take it. What?
Man: We got a prowler.
Announcer: Attention, Dunwall citizens. Anyone with information pertaining to the death of High Overseer Thaddeus Campbell is to report to the City Watch for immediate questioning. In this time of spiritual crisis, the Overseers have initiated the Feast of Painted Kettles until a new High Overseer is chosen. May the High Overseer's spirit fade and merge with the Cosmos.
Guard 6: When I find you, it's going to be bad!
Guard 7: They're still just rats.
Guard 8: Just rats? Rats that can strip a corpse to nothing in seconds.
Guard 7: That's from the continent. I got to tell you, [inaudible 00:06:21].
Guard 8: Even if you're right, what do we do?
Guard 7: Send a fleet to the continent. Burn all the country. That'll show them.