Update #2
Now this update is a bit larger. Took me at least 3 fucking hours to upload, transcribe and copypaste it. Maybe I should have split it up, but it contains little of the main story and most of the dialogues are completely optional.
Anyway.
Farewell, Tyler. We hardly knew ye.
+5 Renegade points
They see me rollin', they hatin'.
Must be difficult to lose an old friend.
Or maybe not... Maybe your alignment affects Cath's facial expressions.
Also, time to change the jacket.
Somehow, this reminds me of the Dark-Side player character's posture on the character screen in the KotOR series.
He looks at Tyler's body one last time... (actually he's just looking at his bloodied jacket, flying in the wind)
There's an empty chest in Tyler's compartment. Looks like something is missing. Maybe the murderer has stolen it?
You can find a scarf underneath it.
The owner is unknown (but it's probably not Tyler's).
Smells like...
... mystery.
Above is a small suitcase.
Inside is a letter from Cath to Whitney.
Still angry about the noodle incident.
And there's an old scroll.
Unfortunately, it's filled with moonspeak, so Cath can't understand what's it about.
Also, there's a glass in the bathroom.
When you click on the rim, you'll get a different perspective (that's the view from the lamp above the sink). I'm not sure if there's any reason to do that.
If you linger too long, René will come and knock on the door.
- Monsieur Whitney, Herr Schmidt is waiting for you in the front car. -
Now, let's get back to the corridor.
All doors are either locked, or inaccessible. But knocking on any of the last 4 doors pisses Wyrmlord off (actually his real name is Mahmoud Mahkta, according to the passenger list). You can't really talk to him, since he repeats some sentences in Persian over and over again if you keep on bothering him.
The second sleeping car is pretty much the same. So we'll go to the smoking compartment.
Here you can listen to the discussion between the two young ladies (who pretty much ignore you). Btw, the woman who played the lady in red and blue clothes is according to IMDb a porn acctress (she played in some Ron Jeremy movies, in example).
The French are so funny. Madame Caillaux seems to become some sort of national heroine. Somehow shes been transformed from an insignificant women enslaved an overshadowed by her husband, into a passionate avenger.
If the middle classes are going to start writing history, we're all in trouble.
That's just the kind of thing a little aristocrat girl would say.
Stop it. You even said yourself that she was like Madame Bovary.
What counts is that she’s acted. She's the very opposite of Madame Bovary. More like Joan of Arc, really.
Whom the English burned at the stake.
Must you always bring that up?
Well, it happened.
What really interests me about Madame Caillaux is the way French scandals develop so differently from English ones. Like the Dreyfus affair in England. The Jewish... -
We move on to the dining car.
Inside, we're approached by one of the waiters (definitely the more outspoken one).
- Bonsoir Monsieur, we have a nice table for you here in the corner. If you will please, uh, follow me. -
You can look around and see the other passengers eating. For now, let's talk to Schmidt.
- Ah, Herr Whitney? You are different than I imagined.
Sorry to keep you waiting. I ran across an old friend.
One does have the most unexpected encounters on trains.
Shall we get down to bussiness. Have you brought the gold?
First you kept me waiting, now you don't answer me! I have kept my half of the bargain. If something has gone wrong I would like to know it.
Nothing has gone wrong.
I'm glad.
I trust that you will not mind if I asked to see the gold.
I trust you won't mind either if I asked to see what I'm buying.
To see it? But you know that is impossible! The merchandise will be put on the train at Munich. It is what we agreed.
Good. Then we're even. Herr Schmidt, it's been a pleasure. We'll talk again, after Munich. -
Diplomacy check successful. Cath talked his way out pretty well considering that he had now idea what they were talking about. Maybe we can find someone else to talk to in the wagon.
Let's disrupt this guy's peaceful dinner.
Mind if I join you?
Why not? -
He's not a very talkative fella. He prefers to enjoy his potato soup.
Suddenly he stops eating.
I didn't mean to scare you off.
For me about this is enough. I can't take no pleasure in food while millions of my countrymen go without bread. Good evening. -
And he leaves. I guess this is not a very good time for potato in Russia. In all the drama, he forgot to take his book.
Looks like he's planning to do something after the train arrives in Galanta. An important hint later on.
We retun to the smoking car. This time the ladies actually notice Cath.
Look at the handsome man who walked in!
Sophie!
Don't worry, he won't understand. He's an American. If we don't look at him, he'll never know were talking about him.
Good Lord.
Isn't he impressive? He seems to have just come in from outside, not at all like a European. Jacket open, hair mussed...
I'd say he could use a wash.
Listen, if you are not interested in small details, you'll never become a great writer.
Look at his sad eyes. He could be a model for the hero of a novel. -
In the sleeping wagon corridors, we find a small brat running around with his whistle.
Francois! Come here! Stop that right now!
If you don't stop, I'll put you off at the next station in Germany. Would you like that?
*cries*
Where did this whistle come from?
I found it.
And where?
On the floor.
Why are you hiding it? Let me see it.
No! I found it, it's MINE!
You're impossible. You can keep it, but only if you stop blowing it!
I promise. -
A few seconds later.
I saw a man go through the window. He rolled along the tracks. -
OH SHI-
Really?
Yes, he rolled and he was DEAD.
Please, go play with your toy.
He’s dead… he’s dead… he’s dead.
Francois, stop singing! It’s unpleasant. *Francois starts crying again* You can cry, go ahead, cry. Your life is so hard, I’m a horrible mother who makes you suffer… what’s going on? Why are you crying? You’re not as sad as that. Dry your tears. It’s all right, it’s over now. -
Fortunately, they don't notify any authorities.
By the way, I forgot to mention that there were matches in Tyler's jacket. There must have been a lot of them, since we can smoke over and over again.
I'm not sure if that is useful for any other thing than to pass time when you're bored.
Furthermore, when the second conductor (the fatter one, I think we haven't met him yet) moves around the compartment, you can find his sketchbook under his chair.
It contains useful hints. Sometimes. Well, actually I can't remember it being useful more than once. But it helps a bit if you're lost and don't know what you should do or where you should go.
After some time, you can meet an another lady in a fine red dress in the corridor.
-Excuse me, got a light?
Thanks, haven’t we met somewhere before?
It is possible. I don’t think I would have remembered. -
We'll follow her as she enters the dining car. We stop for a while to listen to yet another dialogue in the smoking wagon.
Come on. Let's go back.
Aren't we going to dinner?
Of course not, that's not how it's done on luxury trains. It's only eight o'clock. We must wait for second service. If we eat now, afterwards we'll be bored. Look who's gone in. Only old and impossible people. Trust me.
And they leave. Inside the dining car, we see Pascale the waiter, trying to impress our acquaintance.
- Ah, Madame, welcome.
Good evening.
Madame's presence is a great honour for us. Your usual table is ready. If you will permit me...
Thank you.
If I may say so, Madame is like a shining star, we're all basking in her light. I am your servant.
Thank you, Pascale.
Enjoy your dinner, Madame. -
Now it's our turn.
Mind if I join you?
That's bold. Is it customary in America to be so forward?
In certain circles, it's not unheard of.
I must have been moving in the wrong circles. -
Success! :D
I hope you find somewhere to sit.
*disappoint*
An another waiter comes and she odrers dinner.
- Oui madame?
Yes, I'll have the... beef fillet.
Very good. Is Madame dining alone?
Yes.
Very good, madame. -
The waiter leaves and we use our opportunity to talk to her again.
- Excuse me, I think you've dropped this.
It's not mine.
My mistake. I wonder who's it is. -
Bitch is surely lying!
- Are you sure this isn't your scarf?
Quite sure. -
There's not much to do for a while so we might aswell sit down. And listen to other conversations, of course. There are some Russians sitting next to us - they must have been eating for hours.
-
Did you obey all the covenants of our church?
Yes, Grandfather.
Do you like your dish?
Yes.
I think it's remarkable.
You're feeling good. -
Boring. But at least Schmidt finally finished dinner, the fat pig.
And he stops by the lady in red.
- Excuse me, Fraulein Wolf? I could not leave this room without paying you my compliments. I'm sure you do not remember me. My name is August Schmidt.
But I do remember you. It was at Mrs. Lauder's in London, wasn't it?
Yes! You played Brahms' violin concerto.
Oh, lovely of you to remember. And you were with an Englishwoman. Was she your wife? -
Time for Cath to join the conversation.
- Um, yes, um. That is, eh...
Ah, Miss Wolf, may I present my colleauge from America, Mr. Tyler Whitney. Herr Whitney, Miss Anna Wolf.
I -- I'm sorry, I didn't catch the name.
Tyler Whitney. Have we met before?
I seem to remember hearing of a Mr. Whitney years ago in New York. You were trying to raise money to start a revolution in Cuba, isn't that right?
Mexico. And it wasn't me. It must've been some place else that we've met.
Herr Whitney is well known as a champion of freedom and justice in countries other than his own.
But please don't let us interrupt your dinner.
Not at all. You're both very kind. One does get so bored on these long journeys. Good evening.
A beautiful woman.
Is she?
And a brilliant preformer.
To look at her, you would never think she was Jewish. Until Munich, sir! -
So she's a Jew. Obviously a hint telling the player that she will be dangerous! We had better not trust her. Schmidt leaves. We can follow him into the smoking car again. The Russian student we've met before (the one eating potato soup, whose screenshot I forgot to take this time) is waiting for someone. Let's see if he can translate the moonspeaking scroll we've found in Tyler's compartment.
Excuse me. Could you tell me what this paper says?
It's a Russian fairy tale. For children.
Could you translate it for me?
Do you know what a fairy tale is? It's one of the ways the exploiters make the people forget that they're enslaved. For a hundered years Russian peasants have told their children this story of a hero who plucks the tailfeather from a Firebird. Child goes to bed with an empty stomach and dreams of a hero who will never come.
Sorry I asked. -
What a fag. Afterwards you can go inside the sencond sleeping car, to Compartment D (where the French family is) and listen to an another conversation.
Francois, get ready for dinner. My God, what’s that floating in my cologne?
It’s Eugene. I had to embalm him before we left.
Eugene…?
My praying mantis. He died.
How horrible. You should have thrown him in the garden. Claude speak to him!
Francois, you must not touch your mother’s things or use them in your experiments. You did quite well however, to use the cologne. The alcohol does have a preservative effect.
My scarab whistle died too, but he didn’t fit in the bottle.
Claude, you really must speak to him. This obsession with death, does it seem normal to you in a seven-year old boy?
Why not? It is a natural process like any other.
But a toy whistle, how can it die?
It’s dead! -
And they leave for dinner soon. Since there's nothing else to do, we might aswell follow them to kill some time.
It smells!
Sit down Francois! And keep your opinions for yourself.
Fracois, sit still. You're in a restaurant now, with adults, and I expect you to behave. Claude, tell him to sit still.
Claude!
Look out of the window, Fracois.
I want to go home. When are we going home?
Don't be silly. You know we are going away for a year, maybe more, to live with your father at Abadan.
Why?
Because your father is going to work there. At the oil refinery.
Why?
Claude, tell us what it is like, where we are going. I know Fracois would like to hear more about it. Tell us about the town.
The town? I don't have any idea. I'll be spending all my time out at the construction site, or surveying the surrounding desert.
But... are there many shops? What about the schools? What is our house like? And our servants?
These things are your province, my dear. I would never interfere.
When we arrive, you must introduce me to the wives of the other engineers.
Shall we ride camels in the desert, Papa?
Of course.
Absolutely not!
The waiter comes and they order dinner. Afterwards the Russians sitting at the table finally leave. However, they are interrupted in the smoking car.
Vassili Alexandrovitch.
Grandfather.
Vassili Alexandrovitch. I am Alexei Dolnikov. I believe you knew my father.
I knew a Dolnikov. Pyotr Nikolaievitch. He was a good man, a pious man. He had a son...
...but that son brought shame upon him and upon his family. Come, Granddaughter. I am a bit tired.
Vassili Alexandrovitch. How many thousands have you condemned to prison and torture in the name of your piety? -
He says that in English, to prove that he's a real drama queen.
-
Or have you lost count? -
Let's talk to him, to see if he's still pissed.
- Well, I think you've made a pretty good first impression. -
*glares*
Now we can go back to the dining car, where the waiter has already brought the Boutarels' food.
Here's the Chateaubriand with the Béarnaise sauce for madame. -- Well-done for young man. -- And for you, sir.
Thank you.
That is not what I wanted.
Of course, it's a steak. It's exactly what you ordered.
Thank you, sir. Enjoy your meal.
I went all the way to the end of the train and I saw a lady with a snake.
Don't be silly, Francois. Eat your dinner.
It was a big snake all wrapped around her. It was as ig around as a boa constrictor.
Claude, you really ought to say something to him. He invents the most outrageous stories.
Imagination is very important for a scientist. Many great discoveries were greeted with skepticism at first.
He's seven years old. I doubt he's going to make any world-shattering discoveries on this trip.
I want a crepe with chocolate sauce!
Sit still and eat your dinner. -
After a while, the conversation continues.
Papa, are there insects in the desert?
Don’t bother your father, Francois.
Insects are everywhere, Francois. You should do your research before asking questions. Have you looked in your book?
Mama doesn’t want me to read at the table.
Francois, sit still. You are not at home now. -
They sure talk a lot. Let's go back to our sleeping comparment.
There were approached by René, the retarded conductor.
- Monsieur Whitney, excusez-moi. His Excellency wishes to receive you in his private car.
Hmm, 'His Exellency'.
Yes Monsieur. He's waiting for you. -
Edit: Fixed some typos. Hopefully, all of them.