Announcer: ...the renovation of...
Piero: I know it looks... I was inventing a new kind of lock. The tumblers, shaped like, snowflakes. The truth is there is no snowflake lock. I was just, you know, looking. Through the lock.
I couldn't bear it if she knew. I know you're a man of honor, and I also know that you can kill me at any time. For both of these reasons, I apologize and beg for your discretion.
It's well known that Sokolov is virtually addicted to a rare liquor called King Street Brandy. The taste is revolting but I happen to have a bottle. However, I am reluctant to give it to you for Sokolov. It cost me quite a lot. It's very expensive stuff. A blend of rare Pandyssian spices and a drop of whale oil. Would you care to purchase it?
Announcer: Attention, Dunwall Citizens: Be aware that looting of evacuated areas is a serious offense, and will be summarily punished by officers of the Watch. Display your pride in Dunwall by respecting the property and rights of others in these trying times, and preserving the timeless beauty of our fair city.
Pendleton: Corvo, you never seize to amaze me.
Sokolov: I could use a drink. King Street Brandy? I didn't know any more existed. It is an extraordinary gift. I see I'm dealing with men of taste. I can tell you this much, she was always referred to as Lady Boyle. I painted her, to be sure, but I never saw her face, or learned her first name. You see, I painted her from behind. I assure you, she still makes a striking portrait. But I do not know which Boyle she is.
I was to be introduced to her at a masked ball in her honor this very night. But I will miss that party, it seems.
Havelock: A masked ball at the Boyle Estate? Tonight? The timing is perfect, Corvo. But the Boyles are wealthy and ruthless, so security will be very tight.
Sokolov: Of course, you already have a mask, don't you, Corvo?
Havelock: He's right, you will be able to mingle with them once you're on the grounds. You'll have to find out which of the Boyle women is connected to the Lord Regent, and take her out in whatever way you can devise. We're very close now. If you do this tonight, we'll be able to strike at the Lord Regent himself and put Emily on the throne.
May the wind favour you.
Sokolov: I swear, I never saw her face. Although I can vouch that her hindquarters are the finest in the city, and perhaps the Empire itself.
Pendleton: I hear you're off to the Boyles' little bast tonight. I have just a tiny favour I'd like to ask you. Could you give this note to Lord Shaw? You'll know him. A rather brusque man, wearing a wolf's mask. In fact, he may be looking for me.
Samuel: The Boyle Costume Ball, huh? Well, it'll be fun, but not for everybody. You ready? Good grief, the Lord Regent's pulling out all the stops for the Boyle Family. I didn't think there'd be tallboys patrolling here tonight. Watch yourself, Corvo, they don't fool around.
The good news is, once you get to the party, that mask of yours will let you blend right in. Enjoy your evening out with the folk of quality. Better you than me.
Guard 1: So she was supposed to sing that evening in the garden, but she lost her voice, right at the start.
Guard 2: And that's a crime?
Guard 1: Wait for it. A couple of Overseers were passing, and they had one of their, you know.
Guard 2: The music boxes?
Guard 1: So she stopped singing as they passed, and...
Guard 2: And they thought she was a witch!
Guard 1: You should have seen it. Ran right through the rose bushes and tackled her. Dragged her back to that Abbey.
Guard 2: And they call us stupid.
Guard 1: We had to get a notarized letter from the Regent himself to get her back. But she hasn't been the same since.
Guard 2: I'm not surprised. I've heard stories.
Guard 1: She won't talk about it. One of these days, I'm going to take one of those zealots apart myself.
Guard 2: I'll be right behind you.
The Heart: They are burning the whales.
Outsider: Coming from a party, Corvo? Is that what you dreamed of, all those months in Coldridge Prison while waiting for the executioner? Wealth, beautiful women in the latest fashions, laughing and drinking Tyvian wine? And what of the host, Lady Boyle?I can see all her tomorrows and I know that either she dies tonight at your hand or she'll live out her days, month after month, year after year, far away, even as her fine clothes wear into tatters and her silken hair gets dull and gray. Half the city can see the lights from the party, and they dream of the delights inside. Will you tear it all to pieces? Either way, it's Lady Boyle's last party.