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Rasaad's quotes presents lines spoken by Rasaad, together with the associated sound files.

Companion dialogue
Aerie Quotes
Anomen Delryn Quotes
Cernd Quotes
Dorn Il-Khan Quotes
Edwin Odesseiron Quotes
Haer'Dalis Quotes
Hexxat Quotes
Imoen Quotes
Jaheira Quotes
Jan Jansen Quotes
Keldorn Firecam Quotes
Korgan Bloodaxe Quotes
Mazzy Fentan Quotes
Minsc Quotes
Nalia de'Arnise Quotes
Neera Quotes
Rasaad yn Bashir Quotes
Sarevok Anchev Quotes
Valygar Corthala Quotes
Viconia DeVir Quotes
Yoshimo Quotes

Dialogues[]

With Aerie[]

If Aerie and Rasaad aren't in a romance :

Aerie: Hello, Rasaad.
Rasaad: Good <DAY/NIGHT>, Aerie. What can I do for you?
Aerie: Oh—nothing.
Rasaad: Very good.
Aerie: ...
Rasaad: Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?
Aerie: I was wondering—I mean, I know what it's like to be alone.
Rasaad: We are not alone, Aerie. We have <CHARNAME>.
1. Player: And each other.
Rasaad: Obviously.
1. Player: You're blowing a wonderful opportunity right now and you don't even know it, do you?
2. Player: You have no clue what's happening here, do you? Stunning...
3. Player: That's not the only thing that's obvious.
Rasaad: (same reply to all) What do you mean?
Player: *sigh* It doesn't matter anymore.
2. Player: Yeah! What am I, chopped horse meat?
Aerie: No! I just meant— I mean— Never mind.
Rasaad: Is our avariel friend all right, <CHARNAME>?
1. Player: No. And you didn't help matters.
Rasaad: I was merely trying to point out that Aerie is not so alone as she thinks.
1. Player: I think she's perfectly aware of how lonely she is.
Rasaad: To be alone is not the same thing as being lonely.
1. Player: That is true. Incredibly, fantastically, spectacularly, RELEVANTLY to this conversation true.
Rasaad: What do you mean? (...)
2. Player: The latter's usually easier to deal with—if the person you turn to understands the situation.
Rasaad: Very true.
1. Player: Yes, it is. VERY true.
2. Player: This situation I describe, does it maybe seem familiar to you?
Rasaad: Should it?
Aerie: I— Excuse me, I— Excuse me.
3. Player: Gods help you, Rasaad. I fear nobody else can.
Rasaad: What do you mean? (...)
3. Player: I shall leave you to discuss this with Aerie in private.
2. Player: You have no idea what just happened, do you?
Rasaad: What do you mean? (...)
3. Player: Doing so will not make her feel less lonely.
Rasaad: To be alone is not the same thing as (...)
2. Player: As good as she gets, I'm afraid.
3. Player: Has she ever been?
3. Player: Leave me out of this.

Throne of Bhaal only, when outside :

Aerie: The weather is turning.
Rasaad: It is a little chilly.
Aerie: If we didn't have bad weather, we'd never appreciate it when it was good. You taught me that.
Rasaad: I did?
Aerie: Without the dark, how does one recognize the light?


With Anomen[]

Rasaad: ...And that was how I learned that my brother had been turned by the Doom Bringer, Alorgoth.
Anomen: A compelling tale of sibling love, rivalry, and betrayal. You are a great warrior, Rasaad. A great man.
Rasaad: I am just a man, Anomen.
Anomen: You are too modest! Your feats rival my own! Our stories are the stuff of legend! Bards will sing of our victories for years, decades, centuries to come!
Rasaad: Of yours, perhaps. My own adventures would make poor entertainment, I fear.
Anomen: You're joking. Tell me you're joking. Your tale has all the elements of a classic epic. When word gets out, there's not a wench from here to Waterdeep that won't swoon at the mention of your name.
Rasaad: I would not see the story of my failure made public.
Anomen: Failure? Where is the failure in your tale? Tell me that. Where?
1. Player: Leave Rasaad be, Anomen.
Anomen: Leave him be? It's not as though I'm bothering him—I'm not bothering you, am I, Rasaad?
Rasaad: I must admit, some of the things you say make me... uncomfortable.
Anomen: Nonsense!
Rasaad: Excuse me. I must go—meditate. Somewhere else.
2. Player: I think our monk friend has little interest in sharing his pain, Anomen.
Anomen: Let him speak for himself, <CHARNAME>. What say you, Rasaad?
Rasaad: Excuse me. (...)
3. Player: Are you deaf, Anomen? Did you listen to a word the man just said to you?
Anomen: I did, <CHARNAME>—'twas a truly impressive tale.
Rasaad: Excuse me. (...)

Throne of Bhaal only, if Anomen passed his test :

Anomen: May I impart a word of advice, my friend?
Rasaad: Of course, Anomen.
Anomen: When my sister was murdered, all I thought of was revenge. It burned through my mind as I fought, as I walked, as I slept. I was consumed with its fire.
I have been where you are. And I can tell you this: Revenge is not the answer you seek. Revenge will not bring your brother back.
I will stand by your side come Hells or high water. But I would not watch a friend risk his life needlessly.
Rasaad: I appreciate your support. But I will not, cannot rest until Alorgoth is dead.
Anomen: Your brother would not want you to risk your life.
Rasaad: My brother is dead. The least I can do is avenge him.


With Cernd[]

Rasaad: I admire your devotion, Cernd.
Cernd: My devotion?
Rasaad: To nature. Has your faith in the Mother ever been tested?
Cernd: Winds may sway the trunk, but this oak's roots are buried deep.
Rasaad: What happens when the storm tears the tree from its holdings? What then?
Cernd: When it happens—if it happens—another tree will take its place. Life goes on, Rasaad. Forever and always.


With Dorn[]

Dorn: You look troubled, monk.
Is your path less sure than it was? Your precious light staining your soul with shadows?
Rasaad: Enough.
Dorn: When the moon disappears, Rasaad, all we are left with is truth. No more, no less.
You know I am right. Every waking moment, every sleeping hour, constant and unceasing, the truth gnaws at the edges of your soul—
Rasaad: I said enough!

If Dorn has sworn loyalty to a demon :

Dorn: I would have words with you, monk.
Rasaad: Say what you have to say, half-orc.
(if Dorn swore loyalty to Azothet)
Dorn: I come to you on behalf of my patron, Azothet.
Rasaad: What would she want with me?
Dorn: For many years, you have walked in Selûne's light. Now, you have chosen to enter darkness. She sees great promise in you.
(if Dorn swore loyalty to Ur-Gothoz)
Dorn: I bring you an offer from my patron, Ur-Gothoz.
Rasaad: Why would he offer anything to me?
Dorn: For most of your life, you have walked in Selûne's light. Now, you have embarked down a path of darkness. He sees great potential in you.
Rasaad: I wish I could say I found that flattering.
Dorn: You should. And you should hear what is being offered to you.
Rasaad: What is that?
Dorn: Power. Great power. Power enough to defeat all who stand against you. Power enough to avenge your—
Rasaad: Enough! Selûne may no longer look favorably upon me, but I'll not be tempted by a demon's promises.
Dorn: When your enemies stand over your broken, dying body, you will wish you hadn't been so quick to reject my patron's gift.
Rasaad: That may be. But I will still have been right to do so.

Throne of Bhaal only, after Rasaad's quest is complete :

Dorn: Tell me, monk: Do you feel better now, having faced Alorgoth?
Rasaad: What do you care?
Dorn: I don't care. I am just... curious.
Rasaad: Let someone else satisfy your curiosity.
Dorn: Have I hit a nerve, Selûnite? Has your encounter left you drained? Unsure?
Rasaad: I've no interest in discussing this further.
Dorn: Your rage is a source of strength, Rasaad. Harness that anger and it will become a weapon.
Rasaad: I do not take advice from murderers.
Dorn: It's never too late to start.


With Edwin[]

Rasaad: Tell me, friend Edwin—why do you always keep your hood up?
Edwin: You impertinent chimpanzee! What makes you think I would ever be bothered to explain myself to you?
Rasaad: I was merely curious.
(if present in party:)
Hexxat: It is curious, wizard. You keep your hood up more than I do, and with less cause.
Edwin: "Less cause"—as though you know why I prefer to go hood up.
Rasaad: Is it just a fashion choice, or are there other reasons you keep it?
Hexxat: (if in party) It's no fashion choice—at least no modern fashion. Most every Thayan I've met has been too happy to display his shaven head.
Rasaad: Most Thayans do shave their heads, don't they?
Edwin: I'll not discuss this with you.
Rasaad: I am sorry if I've upset you...
Edwin: Upset me? Hah! I'd be more upset to find I crushed a gnat beneath my heel!


Edwin: Your head is very smooth, monk. Tell me, are you naturally bald?
Rasaad: No. I shave it each day.
Edwin: You shave it yourself, do you? Tell me, how do you do that?
Rasaad: Surely you know how to shave.
Edwin: Of course I know how to shave my own head, you impudent baboon!
Uh, I merely seek to add to my considerable knowledge on the subject. So tell me—how do you shave your head?
Rasaad: Having the correct tools helps. Come, I'll show you what I use.

Throne of Bhaal only :

Edwin: Monk! Your tattoos. Are enchantments inked into their design?
Rasaad: They hold great meaning to me, but no magic.
Edwin: I have been working on a theory, a method of inscribing magic into one's skin. A permanent enhancement. I require a test subject. It will not hurt. (Much, anyway.)
Rasaad: Have you tested this on anybody before?
Edwin: If I had, I wouldn't need a test subject, would I? Hold still...
Rasaad: Forgive me, Edwin, but I believe I'll pass. Best of luck with your theory, though. It sounds very interesting.
Edwin: Blast!
(Well, perhaps it's for the best. He might not have like the quickened aging. Or the variegated skin color...)


With Haer'Dalis[]

Haer'Dalis: And how does this <DAY/NIGHT> find you, my owl?
Rasaad: You call me owl, Haer'Dalis? It does not fit. I rather think I am crow, or a vulture.
Haer'Dalis: My owl sees all—all but himself.
Rasaad: I see myself all too well.
Haer'Dalis: You see only your darkness, which is understandable enough. But do not forget, there is light within you.
Rasaad: If there is, I see it not.
Haer'Dalis: It is there. Open your eyes and it will blind you.

Throne of Bhaal only :

Haer'Dalis: Yours is a story as old as time, but still as enthralling as the first time it was told.
Rasaad: I am fairly sure my story is mine and mine alone. How could you have heard of it before?
Haer'Dalis: The narrative shares many similarities with great plays and poems from times past. A stalwart soldier of light, his beliefs thrown into question by forces beyond his control, seeking revenge against those forces in an attempt to right that which was wronged. Classic.
Rasaad: I see. And how do these other stories end?
Haer'Dalis: The endings are many and varied, Rasaad, but all share one element.
Rasaad: Which is?
Haer'Dalis: Tragedy.


With Hexxat[]

Rasaad: May I speak with you, Hexxat?
Hexxat: It's never too late to start.
Rasaad: I'm sorry?
Hexxat: I couldn't help but notice you were... less than eager to speak with me before now.
Rasaad: Please forgive me, Hexxat. I did not want—
Hexxat: I know what you did not want, Rasaad. The question is what you do want.
Rasaad: What is it like? Being a vampire, I mean.
Hexxat: Considering a walk on the dark side?
Rasaad: No! I mean—
You are teasing me. Aren't you?
Hexxat: A little bit. I am curious as to why you ask.
Rasaad: My brother... He is dead.
Hexxat: I heard. I am truly sorry for your loss.
Rasaad: I wonder, sometimes—if it were possible—if I could just see him one more time—
Hexxat: You would see him returned? As an undead, perhaps?
Rasaad: What? No! Never.
Hexxat: This is good. Let me tell you what it is to be unliving, Rasaad.
It's cold. And dark, and hard. But mostly, it's cold.
If you want my advice, it is this: Let your brother lie. You'll both be happier that way.
Rasaad: Thank you, Hexxat.
Hexxat: It was my pleasure. If there's anything else I can do for you, you know where to find me.

Throne of Bhaal only :

Hexxat: Still suspicious, Rasaad? Don't you think if I wanted your blood, I'd have taken it by now?
Rasaad: Perhaps you are just biding your time, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Hexxat: Rest easy. I would never partake of a friend of <CHARNAME>—at least, not uninvited. It would be... discourteous.
Rasaad: Courtesy is not something I'd expect from a vampire.
Hexxat: It is, however, something I'd expect from a Selûnite monk. Expectations are such slippery things, aren't they?


With Imoen[]

Imoen: What was it like for you, Rasaad? Growing up in the Sun Soul order?
Rasaad: It was not an easy life, but it was a good one. We— I was fortunate enough to be taken in by the order. Left to the streets of Calimport, I would surely be dead by now.
Imoen: It must have been something. <CHARNAME> and I were raised in Candlekeep. A nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to be raised there.
Rasaad: <CHARNAME> has told me of Gorion. You were fortunate to have such a man to raise you.
Imoen: I guess so. I just wish he'd raised us somewhere else. Somewhere more interesting. Somewhere like Calimport.
Rasaad: Calimport is a city of wonders, but it was not all enjoyable, I assure you of that.
1. Player: Imoen's always had trouble grasping the idea that the grass on the other side of the fence is invariably a brighter shade of green.
Imoen: That's just what the people on the other side of the fence want you to believe. They want to hog all the nice grass for themselves.
2. Player: And Candlekeep was not nearly as boring as Imoen would have you believe.
Imoen: Only because you were there. We made our own fun.
Player: We did at that.
3. Player: No place is. Not in this world. *ends conversation*

Throne of Bhaal only :

Imoen: What do you think?
Rasaad: About what, Imoen?
Imoen: My hair, dummy. What do you think?
Rasaad: Has it changed?
Imoen: YES! Look at it. Does it LOOK the same?
Rasaad: I... yes?
Imoen: You could at least TRY lying convincingly.
Rasaad: You would have me lie to you?
Imoen: Forget it. Don't worry about it.
Rasaad: Have I done something wrong?
Imoen: If you have to ask, then yeah, you probably have.


With Jaheira[]

Rasaad: Are you all right, Jaheira?
Jaheira: Why do you ask?
Rasaad: You generally seem—at peace. But for a moment there, your expression darkened.
Jaheira: I am fine, Rasaad. I was just thinking...
Rasaad: <CHARNAME> has told me that's the worst thing I can do. I expect <HE/SHE>'s joking. I think. I hope.
What were you thinking of?
Jaheira: My husband, Khalid.
Rasaad: Ah. I am sorry. I shall leave you to your reflections.
Jaheira: No, don't. I could use the company.
Rasaad: I'm sorry to say I didn't know Khalid well.
Jaheira: Few did.
Rasaad: Tell me about him.
Jaheira: He could be... difficult. But he was a good man. A strong man.
1. Player: He is missed.
Jaheira: Dearly missed.
Player: I remember when you were separated at Bridgefort. I don't think I've ever seen you so upset.
Jaheira: That was a... trying time. And we weren't to have much time after it.
Rasaad: I know it is difficult, but try not to focus on what you have lost, Jaheira. Instead, treasure the time you had together. It was a gift from the gods.
Jaheira: I try, Rasaad. I try every day.
2. Player: He loved you dearly, Jaheira.
Jaheira: And I, him.
Player: I remember when you were separated at Bridgefort (...)
3. Player: A dead man.
Imoen: (if present in party) Oh, <CHARNAME>. NO.
Korgan: (if present in party) Ye're a cold one, <CHARNAME>, there's no doubtin' it.
Jaheira: Is that how Gorion raised you, <CHARNAME>? I think he would be ashamed to see what you have become.
Rasaad: Forgive me, Jaheira. I did not mean to cause you discomfort.
Jaheira: Nor have you. <CHARNAME>'s the one who reopened the wound.
Rasaad: I know it is difficult (...)

Throne of Bhaal only :

Jaheira: You have crow's feet, Rasaad.
Rasaad: Crow's feet?
Jaheira: Wrinkles at the edge of your eyes. Usually caused by frowning.
Rasaad: Ah. Well, I have much to frown about.
Jaheira: You have, it is true. You've grown much over the last year.
Rasaad: We all have.
Jaheira: None more so than you, I suspect.

With Jan[]

Rasaad: Tell me, Jan, is it true that you have a device that—
Jan: Yep, absolutely.
Rasaad: I didn't finish my question.
Jan: You weren't asking me about tattoo removal?
Rasaad: Why would I want to know about that?
Jan: Well, you know. Your face and all.
Rasaad: I've no interest in removing my tattoos. They are part of my identity.
Jan: It could be done, you know.
Rasaad: What?
Jan: The tattoos. They could be got rid of. Easy.
Rasaad: I don't want to be rid of them.
Jan: Well, not easy, precisely. It'd sting a bit.
Rasaad: It matters little, because—
Jan: A bit more than it stung to get 'em.
Rasaad: I wanted to ask you about—
Jan: And longer, I suspect. Never did understand tattoos myself. My great aunt Beryl loved them. Couldn't get enough of them. Covered her body with the things, then ate a herd of cows to put on enough weight to make room for some more.
Rasaad: That—can't have been healthy.
Jan: She was an impressive sight in the end, was Beryl. Four hundred pounds, she was.
Burying her would've been a waste. My uncle used her skin to make a tent that could hold more than twenty people. Fifteen non-gnome people.
Only problem was the tattoos. Some of them creeped people out. So I figured out how to remove them.
Rasaad: That's very interesting—
Jan: The secret is turnip juice.
Rasaad: I—I'll be going now.
Jan: When you want to get rid of those tattoos, you just let me know. But bring me a couple gold; turnip juice doesn't come cheap.


With Korgan[]

Korgan: I don't like it, <CHARNAME>! No, I don't like it one damn bit!
1. Player: I couldn't agree more, Korgan. What are we talking about?
Korgan: This high-horsed prettyboy monk o' yers has been lookin' down his nose at me, and I'll not stand for it.
1. Player: Rasaad, is this true?
Rasaad: I do not know what he's talking about, <CHARNAME>. Truly.
I don't know what I've done to offend you, but whatever it was, I apologize.
Korgan: You put yer pants on one leg at a time, just like the rest of us!
Rasaad: I do, yes.
Korgan: Ye're no better 'n me, no matter what ye think.
Rasaad: I never claimed I was, nor would I.
Korgan: Oh, aye. So that's how it is, is it? Well, all right. But ye better watch yourself, monk. Kicks aren't so impressive comin' from someone whose been cut down at the knees.
Rasaad: I— What just happened?
1. Player: Korgan just happened. Don't let it bother you. *ends conversation*
2. Player: Eh. The dwarf's touchy. Just—avoid him as best you can for a while. I'm sure he'll find another target for his ire in due course. *ends conversation*
3. Player: I don't know, which works out well as I also don't care. *ends conversation*
2. Player: Most people look down their noses at you, Korgan. Your stature makes it difficult to do otherwise.
Korgan: Oh, so ye're takin' the MONK's side! Can't say I'm surprised.
Rasaad: My side? Forgive me, Korgan.
I don't know what I've done to offend you (...)
3. Player: Nor should you.
Korgan: So I can kill 'im?
Rasaad: There's no need for violence—
Korgan: Says the man whose sole reason for livin' is to knock Alorgoth's teeth down his throat!
Rasaad: I don't know what I've done to offend you (...)
2. Player: I'm sorry to hear that?
Rasaad: This high-horsed prettyboy monk o' yers (...)
3. Player: Given your sunny disposition, this hardly comes as a surprise.
Rasaad: This high-horsed prettyboy monk o' yers (...)

Throne of Bhaal only :

Rasaad: You are an intelligent man, Korgan. Why let your baser instincts rule? Is it not more sensible to rely on intellect rather than brawn?
Korgan: Seems t' me ye rely as much on yer fists as yer "intellect."
Rasaad: Perhaps, but each blow is calculated, considered. Minimum exertion for maximum effect.
Korgan: Are ye suggestin' me axe is ineffective?
Rasaad: It is a brutal weapon, I'll admit. But it could also be a useful tool, if you choose to make it so.
Korgan: Brutal's all I need it t' be. I says if it ain't broke, donnae be fixin' it.
Rasaad: As you wish.


With Mazzy[]

Rasaad: ...So even though you've the abilities of the paladin, you aren't one?
Mazzy: Sadly, no.
Rasaad: Surely what's in your heart is what matters.
Mazzy: You might think so. But the gods are fickle...
Rasaad: Perhaps, some day, there will be fewer restrictions on those who may carry the banner of their chosen god as paladins.
Mazzy: I dream of such a day.

Throne of Bhaal only :

Mazzy: Take heart, Rasaad! The day is fine and our victories plentiful. Melancholy ill suits you.
Rasaad: You mistake contemplation for melancholy. Do not be deceived. I am glad of our success.
Mazzy: Your eyes tell a different story. Whatever demons you wrestle with, my friend, know that we stand steadfast behind you.
Rasaad: I appreciate that, Mazzy, truly. But there is nothing to worry about.


With Minsc[]

Rasaad: And what is your story, my friend?
Minsc: ...
Rasaad: Minsc?
Minsc: I'm sorry. I thought you were talking to Boo.
Rasaad: As interesting a conversation as that would doubtless be, I was talking to you. You are Rashemi, are you not?
Minsc: I am.
Rasaad: What brings you to this place? No, let me guess: It is Boo.
Minsc: No, no! It was my dajemma that brought me here. That and—my witch.
Rasaad: Your dajemma?
Minsc: I failed the dajemma. I failed my witch. I failed myself.
Rasaad: But you did not fail Boo.
Minsc: Boo understands. Boo forgives, even if I cannot.
Rasaad: The hamster is wise. You are a good man. Boo knows.
Minsc: Boo thinks you are a good man. You should come to Rashemen with us when I return there. We could parade around Immilmar—I'd introduce you as my long-lost brother. Hah! Wouldn't that be something?
Rasaad: It would indeed, my friend. It would indeed.

Throne of Bhaal only :

Minsc: Friend Rasaad, I have a question, and Boo is being most uncooperative. What is a honeymoon?
Rasaad: After two people are joined in marriage, they are provided with mead for a month in order to... ah... grow comfortable with one another.
Minsc: So there are no bees?
Rasaad: I have never been married, so I would not know.
(if present in party:)
Jaheira: I can assure you, children, there are no bees on a honeymoon.
Minsc: I shall take your word for it. Boo's answer involved both bees and birds. It was... confusing.


With Nalia[]

Nalia: I admire you, Rasaad. The Sun Soul order has done great things for the poor.
Rasaad: It is our duty to spread light wherever we can. There are few who appreciate receiving light more than those whose circumstances have left them in darkness.
Nalia: The destitute do appreciate the little things more than the noble class.
I sometimes wish I'd been born to a lesser rank. Their lives are hard, but they have meaning, wouldn't you agree? There's a nobility inherent in struggle.
Rasaad: All lives have meaning. And bringing light to the darkness is always a struggle, no matter the circumstances of one's birth.
Nalia: I guess you're right. I was born to a high station, but I try to make a difference in the lives of those unfortunate people I meet.
I care about them. I want to help them.
Rasaad: I'm sure they recognize it.
Nalia: Some do. Some are just—well, rude.

Throne of Bhaal only :

Rasaad: You are always impeccably dressed, Nalia, yet I rarely see you shop for clothes.
Nalia: I've always been good with a needle—one of the few skills Aunt Delcia managed to successfully impart, much to her chagrin.
Rasaad: You sew your own garments?
Nalia: Do not sound so surprised. Sewing relaxes me. It keeps the hands busy while letting the mind work. It's really not all that hard, once you get the basics down. The rest is just practice.
Rasaad: And a little magic, I presume?
Nalia: Here and there, Rasaad. Here and there.


With Neera[]

Neera: ...and so I asked, "Why don't you just turn it yellow?" And she laughed at me. LAUGHED. Can you imagine that?
Rasaad? Are you alright?
Rasaad: I seem to have developed something of a headache.
Neera: Oh no! I hate headaches. I remember this one time—
Rasaad: Neera, has anyone taught you the virtues of silent contemplation?
Neera: What on Toril would anyone want to contemplate silently?
Rasaad: The vastness of the cosmos? The dappled play of light and dark at dusk? What joy to be had and given in reining in our more talkative impulses?
Neera: Ah. Sorry. Sometimes I just get excited, you know, and—
Rasaad: Oh yes. I know.


Neera: I'm not sure you'll appreciate this, Rasaad, but I understand how you feel. To have led so many in a cause you believe in and seen them suffer...
Rasaad: I appreciate the sentiment, Neera. But words are no balm to the pain I feel.
Neera: Oh, I know nothing I say could stop your suffering. If either one of us ever thought that—well, we've both grown up a bit, haven't we?
Rasaad: Then why did you not leave me to my thoughts, wild mage?
Neera: Because I know how thoughts can get. Especially guilty ones. There may be no cure for your suffering, but that doesn't mean you need to make yourself suffer more.
Rasaad: Your sunny disposition would make the Mistress of Night's worshippers tremble with hate.
Neera: I've tricked one more person into thinking I have a sunny disposition.
Rasaad: You do not?
Neera: I'm not big on the brooding, but I'm no sunshine.
Rasaad: No? Not even a winter's sun that shines over a barren world and laughs at its reflection in the snow?
Neera: That doesn't sound bad. Poetic, melancholy, sublime. Yeah, that's basically me—hey! You're laughing!
Rasaad: There may be no balm in words, but there is in sympathy. Let us walk in silent sympathy for a time, Neera.


With Sarevok[]

If Sarevok is still evil :

Sarevok: I don't like you, monk.
Rasaad: Knowing this will cost me little sleep, Sarevok.
Sarevok: It could cost you much more than that if my half-<BROTHER/SISTER> ever tires of you.
Rasaad: Your threats matter little to me.
Sarevok: You do not fear death? You should. I know what it is like. I had to scratch, claw, and plead my way back into the land of the living.
But do I spend all my days whining about my fate? I do not.
But you... you cannot help but go on and on about what you have lost. Your brother. Your friends. Your wretched Moonmaiden's grace. It's—it is comical to me.
Rasaad: You tread on dangerous ground.
Sarevok: Oh? And what will you do about it?
1. Player: Let it go, Sarevok.
Sarevok: You ruin ALL my fun, <CHARNAME>.
2. Player: He knows I need you, Sarevok. For that, you are fortunate.
Sarevok: Funny. I don't FEEL fortunate.
3. Player: Teach him a lesson, Rasaad. He'll not stop poking you until you poke back.
Rasaad: So be it!

With Valygar[]

Valygar: What troubles you, my friend?
Rasaad: The same thing that always troubles me, Valygar.
Valygar: Alorgoth.
You give him too much power over you.
Rasaad: He killed my brother.
Valygar: Keep walking the path you're on and he may well kill you too. Then where will you be?
Rasaad: I'd rather die than see my brother go unavenged.
Valygar: Nothing you do will bring him back, monk. You must live for yourself now.
Rasaad: Is that what you do?
Valygar: ...
It's what I try to do. I know the burden family can be all too well.
Rasaad: Then I guess we will both have to strive to live for ourselves.


With Viconia[]

Rasaad: I know you worship Shar, Viconia, and you think we have little to discuss...
Viconia: There is nothing I wish to discuss with you.
Rasaad: ...But the Precepts of Incandescence are clear. It is my duty to recognize the light in others, not just the darkness.
Viconia: I don't want to hear about your precious Sun Soul philosophy, monk.
Rasaad: There is light in you, Viconia. I know there is.
Viconia: Keep talking and I'll paint this place red with your inner light.
Rasaad: I shall leave you for now.


With Yoshimo[]

Rasaad: You are a long way from home, thief.
Yoshimo: It is for the best, I assure you. An... incident with a wealthy noblewoman and her husband hastened my departure.
Rasaad: I see. And the nature of the incident...?
Yoshimo: A gentleman never tells, friend Rasaad.
Rasaad: You are no friend of mine, Yoshimo. I do not approve of what you do or the way in which you do it. I am watching you closely.
Yoshimo: Well then, I shall endeavor to be sufficiently entertaining!
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