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Player: hi
Fillias: Yes, yes. Hello, hello.
Player: job
Fillias: Hmph. Not much of one left. Too old, see. Used to be the waterworks keeper.
Player: waterworks
Fillias: Ah, those were the days! You see, there are two springs coming down the mountain. That's where the city gets its fresh water supplies. ...
Fillias: So we built subterranean waterways. And we used the rain water, too. Now that was clever. And everybody, rich or poor, could afford fresh water. Glorious days.
Player: waterways
Fillias: They're sewers now. <spits out> Were used by the factory workers for their waste. Just two water reservoirs are still operative today. ...
Fillias: In the south, that's where the muddy water from the highlands is processed. But it's only used to wash all the filthy glooth into the river here! What a shame.
Player: glooth
Fillias: Huh. They say it's very useful, but I still don't see it replacing water. Can't live without water. This city poisons itself with that glooth stuff! Remember when the old factory blew up? ...
Fillias: There's even food made out of glooth nowadays. Food! Out of something that came out of a worm? I won't have it. Fish and water's good enough for me!
Player: factory
Fillias: Big building just across the street here. Completely ruined, now. Some strange accident years and years ago there, but it was all hushed up. I heard they built a new factory in the workshops quarter. Hah.
Player: tibia
Fillias: You're not from here, I could tell. I wish I were younger, I would have liked to see foreign lands. Too late now, too old. <sighs>
Player: rathleton
Fillias: This city is so full of itself. True, we have an interesting past - at least the little that is known of it - but look at what happened to this part of town. ...
Fillias: There used to be families here, children, a market! Now, it's just me and some others hanging on.
Player: others
Fillias: Well, haven't you noticed the beggars? More and more of them these days. ...
Fillias: Chavis over there in the poor house, he tries to keep them and me alive. Mrs Brandon next door tries to run her bed and breakfast though there's barely guests that can pay. Hard times, hard times.
Player: time
Fillias: Do I look like I got a use for a clock? Hah. <mutters>
Player: name
Fillias: Hmm? Fillias Wayward Stokeston, that's what I was called. Nowadays, it's just ol' Fillias, hah.
Player: Magistrate
Fillias: They say they run things, but have you seen what state this town's in? Just look around here and you see what I mean!
Player: king
Fillias: Hmm, I heard of that. Not much chance of a return of that old regime on Oramond, though. The magistrate's in charge here.

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