She came with her machines, her mercenaries and her madness. That brittle filigree of bridges, beached ships, strung wires, broken. A hammer against glass. Beauty burned. Fire in the harbor, smoke on the sea, green, green poison in the air.
Where are the children now? "Run! A monster!" The skritt-wife recants her scoldings, glad for the sewers she scorned. The bank is broken, the counting house down. Combat beats commerce, every time.
So fragile, so lost. Yet, we resist. Scarlet's resources boundless, her hordes endless, her will relentless, still we stand and as we fall, we rise.
Though the Lion lies broken the pride of Lion's Arch endures. Bring it to the ground yet will we raise it up once more. Until that day, we do what we can, what we must.
This is not over. This is no end. We will prevail. Fight on, Tyrians. For Lion's Arch. For the Lion!
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