This rare audio recording was recorded in wax, for an audiharmonium, by one of the Condesce's younger willing followers, much enamored with her and her message of conquest. It is most certainly not fake. Its fakeness attribute is zero.
[Audio transcript]
Oh-kay clam shuckers, here's the sitch. I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME FOR SHORE, BECAUSE IF YA AIN'T LISTENIN' NOW, YOU'RE GOOD AS CHUM TA ME, WE CLEAR?
You all're getting' mah driftwood. Good. Now, I know you all are thinkin' 'oh cod another one o' those tyrian bloodbags is gonna start the lusus collectin' rounds again,' and that is true. Oh, is it ever true. This beast ya'll got me shackled with, she's hungry. She's starvin'. Shell make ya all orphans and midnight snacks.
Same old, same old, ya tell me. Been livin' this reel carptastic deal for sweeps and sweeps since before I even pupated. Yah, I hear ya, ya frigging old timers. Fishbones of tha' deep and all that. You've survived more than blah blah blah. Ya've seen empresses chum and go from the pearl seat like the sweeps don' mean nofin. Shore, I krilled tha' ol' sea witch a lil' earlier than most, but tha don' worry you none. She was an old hagfish. Six thousand pits of darkness and squid infested hells, she didn't even challenge the last one. Just outlived her. And, hey, didn' Her Imperial Apprehension outlive Her Im-pearl Ruination? An' hey, maybe you fogies out there in tha crowd are suddenly finking, 'hey when did the sharkraptors last come ta dine on alla the blood inna water at a glorious ascension?'
Mebbe you're all realizin' now that I'm tha first ta feed our emissary her last heiress in a coupla hundred thousand million sweeps. Maybe even a squillion.
Yeah. Even the mother glubbin' foul scales wit' rot eatin' out their eyes ain't never lived durin' a reign like mine. Get the driftwood: Imma gonna be taking my ascension for all it's worth. Which at the moment seems ta be a crushin' black pit amid some notfinness, which. is. un. ac.cept.able. Y'all flee in terror afore me 'n' my kind, you bloated little puffer fishes? Well, that's no gonna save ya, not from me.
Here's my fin, though. Why should all of you bear the burden of our revered motherglubber? You wanna keep your lusi safe? You wanna live ta the ripe old ages them what doubts me claim ta be havin'? There's two freaking continents out there, teamin' with lusi and warm lil' creeps with their pitter patterin' blood pumps an' I don' sea why they can't feed tha voice of the Gods. She ain't picky at all. Just hungry. Starfishing.
But they got guns, you say. They got psionics. They got electricity. Well buoys, we got terrors. We got bones. We got tha deeps they trade on, and the storms without mer-sea. Pretty soon, you're all gonna be wit me, and' when that happens, I've got an army.
- The Condesce, exhorting the seadwellers into their most noble and glorious action.
Oh-kay clam shuckers, here's the sitch. I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME FOR SHORE, BECAUSE IF YA AIN'T LISTENIN' NOW, YOU'RE GOOD AS CHUM TA ME, WE CLEAR?
You all're getting' mah driftwood. Good. Now, I know you all are thinkin' 'oh cod another one o' those tyrian bloodbags is gonna start the lusus collectin' rounds again,' and that is true. Oh, is it ever true. This beast ya'll got me shackled with, she's hungry. She's starvin'. Shell make ya all orphans and midnight snacks.
Same old, same old, ya tell me. Been livin' this reel carptastic deal for sweeps and sweeps since before I even pupated. Yah, I hear ya, ya frigging old timers. Fishbones of tha' deep and all that. You've survived more than blah blah blah. Ya've seen empresses chum and go from the pearl seat like the sweeps don' mean nofin. Shore, I krilled tha' ol' sea witch a lil' earlier than most, but tha don' worry you none. She was an old hagfish. Six thousand pits of darkness and squid infested hells, she didn't even challenge the last one. Just outlived her. And, hey, didn' Her Imperial Apprehension outlive Her Im-pearl Ruination? An' hey, maybe you fogies out there in tha crowd are suddenly finking, 'hey when did the sharkraptors last come ta dine on alla the blood inna water at a glorious ascension?'
Mebbe you're all realizin' now that I'm tha first ta feed our emissary her last heiress in a coupla hundred thousand million sweeps. Maybe even a squillion.
Yeah. Even the mother glubbin' foul scales wit' rot eatin' out their eyes ain't never lived durin' a reign like mine. Get the driftwood: Imma gonna be taking my ascension for all it's worth. Which at the moment seems ta be a crushin' black pit amid some notfinness, which. is. un. ac.cept.able. Y'all flee in terror afore me 'n' my kind, you bloated little puffer fishes? Well, that's no gonna save ya, not from me.
Here's my fin, though. Why should all of you bear the burden of our revered motherglubber? You wanna keep your lusi safe? You wanna live ta the ripe old ages them what doubts me claim ta be havin'? There's two freaking continents out there, teamin' with lusi and warm lil' creeps with their pitter patterin' blood pumps an' I don' sea why they can't feed tha voice of the Gods. She ain't picky at all. Just hungry. Starfishing.
But they got guns, you say. They got psionics. They got electricity. Well buoys, we got terrors. We got bones. We got tha deeps they trade on, and the storms without mer-sea. Pretty soon, you're all gonna be wit me, and' when that happens, I've got an army.
- The Condesce, exhorting the seadwellers into their most noble and glorious action.