Nathan – Uncharted 2: Amongst Thieves – Dialogue Voice Over Script
[2.01. Chapter 01 – “A Rock and a Hard Place”]
[Nathan Drake awakens on a train. A flickering light swings overhead. Curtains
lining the windows have been ripped and torn. Nathan holds his head and groans.]
Nathan: What’s going on…?
[Nathan groans again. He looks down and notices his hands are covered in blood
and he is wounded in the stomach.]
Nathan: That’s my blood… That’s my blood, that’s a lot of my blood…
[Nathan rests his head back on the seat and looks out the window. Outside, he
sees a snowy cliff.]
Nathan: What…?
[He quickly ducks to the side as a wooden crate and an oil drum flies past him.
He looks back and sees the oil drum falling out the back of the train behind
him.]
Nathan: Oh G*d.
[His chair starts to break away. Nathan jumps out of his seat and grabs hold of
the seat in front of him as his seat falls away. He loses his grip and falls
through the train carriage.]
Nathan: (screams)
[Nathan lands on the handrail on the outside of the carriage and quickly grabs
hold of it.]
Nathan: Oh, c**p.
[The train carriage is teetering over the edge of a cliff. A fire burns on the
mountains nearby.
Nathan starts climbing up the side of the train’s chassis. The train shakes
and a large boulder falls from the edge of the cliffs above. Part of the pipe
starts to break away.]
Nathan: It’s ok… it’s ok… come on…
[The pipe twists to the side. It swings round and slams Nathan into the side of
the train. Nathan climbs round to the roof of the train and climbs back into
the carriage.
Nathan climbs through the carriage and back outside. As he nears the top of
the carriage, the carriage edges closer over the cliff. A door on the side
of the carriage swings open and luggage falls out.
Nathan climbs onto the second carriage on the edge of the cliff. He runs
through the carriage and leaps out of it as the train falls over the edge.
Nathan pulls himself up onto the cliff and rolls onto his back, gasping for
breath. He loses consciousness and flashes back to the past.
In his flashback, Nathan is sitting at a bar on a beach by the ocean, drinking
a bottle of beer. A man walks up to him and leans on the bar.]
Harry: Buy me a drink, sailor?
Nathan: Harry Flynn?! Hey!
Harry: Hey!
[Nathan gives Harry a quick hug.]
Nathan: What the h**l are you doing here?
Harry: I’m looking for you, mate.
Nathan: Uh-oh. Should I be flattered, or worried?
[Harry grabs the bottle of beer on the bar.]
Harry: Maybe a bit of both.
Nathan: (laughs)
Harry: C’mere –
[Harry and Nathan sit down at a small wooden table nearby.]
Harry: I’ve got a job for us.
Nathan: Really?
Harry: A client is willing to part with a huge sum of cash if we ‘acquire’ a
certain object for him.
Nathan: All right, I’m listening.
Harry: Now – you’re not gonna like this.
[Harry puts a pamphlet down on the table.]
Nathan: Oh, no. No, you’re out of your mind.
[Nathan pushes the pamphlet away.]
Harry: Yeah, just – just hear me out for a sec –
Nathan: Flynn, we both know two people who were killed trying to lift something
outta this place.
Harry: And one who made it out.
Nathan: Yeah, barely.
Harry: I can’t do this without you, Drake. You’re the only one who’s cracked
it. And you know better than anyone, it’s a two-person job.
Nathan: No, no, no – three, actually.
Harry: Right. And speak of the devil – here she comes now.
[A woman walks over to the table.]
Nathan: Wh -?
Chloe: Chloe Frazer.
[Nathan shakes Chloe’s hand.]
Nathan: Nate. Drake. Nathan Drake.
[Chloe walks around Harry, brushing one hand along his neck.]
Chloe: Hello, Harry.
Harry: Chloe here’s one of the best drivers in the business – she’ll take good
care of us.
[Chloe sits down at the table.]
Nathan: I bet.
Harry: All right, look – I’ve got it all figured out. We go in through the
sewer –
Nathan: Loving it so far.
Harry: That puts us in the courtyard. From there we scale up the wall, run
across the rooftops, and just drop down into the exhibit hall. Bob’s your
uncle. And what is worth all this trouble, I hear you ask…?
Nathan: I didn’t, but go ahead.
[Harry turns the page and points to a lamp in the corner of the page, circled
in red pen.]
Nathan: That’s it? An oil lamp?
[Harry shows Nathan a photo of the same oil lamp.]
Harry: Yeah.
Nathan: It’s worthless. I don’t get it.
Chloe: Neither do we. That’s why we tracked you down.
Nathan: Well, it sounds like you’re working for a nutcase. Some collector,
who’s got too much time and money on his hands. And by the way, this – is not
worth any of it.
Harry: But there’s more… How’s your 13th-century Latin, mate?
[Harry gives Nathan another piece of paper with a paragraph written in Latin.]
Nathan: Where’d you get this?
Harry: ‘Borrowed’ it from the files of the nutcase.
Nathan: ‘In Trebizond we were set upon by thieves. Father, Maffeo and I were
robbed of our greatest treasures…’ This was written by Marco Polo.
Chloe: Yes, that much we were able to work out.
Harry: Unfortunately, the rest of it’s nonsense.
Nathan: Wait, hold on… ‘So that it should not fall into the wrong hands, I
concealed my great sorrow in the unlikeliest place. The light of the Great
Khan shelters the fate of the thirteen.’
Harry: See what I mean? It’s just gibberish.
Chloe: He’s talking about the lost fleet.
Nathan: Yeah…
Harry: Hello, someone want to fill me in?
Nathan: Marco Polo leaves China with 600 passengers and fourteen ships, loaded
down with treasure from Kublai Khan. Now, he lands in Persia a year and a half
later with only one ship left, and only eighteen passengers. Now, he recorded
every detail of his journey but he never told what happened to all those ships,
and the passengers.
Chloe: So – so, somewhere out there – there are thirteen ships, loaded with
the emperor’s treasure, waiting to be found.
Nathan: Yeah, and that is what your client is after.
[Nathan holds up the photo of the oil lamp.]
Nathan: Look at this lamp. It’s covered in Mongolian script – it must’ve been
a gift from Kublai Khan.
Harry: ‘The light of the Great Khan – shelters the fate of the thirteen.’
Chloe: ‘…shelters the fate of the thirteen.’
Nathan: Marco Polo hid something inside this lamp. Something that pinpoints
the site of the lost fleet.
Chloe: So… we’re dicking this guy over, right?
Nathan: D**n straight!
Harry: Absolutely!
[Harry stands up from the table.]
Harry: You in, then?
[Chloe also stands.]
Nathan: What the h**l.
[Nathan stands up.]
Nathan: What could possibly go wrong?
[They clink their bottles together and start drinking.]
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[Skyrim opens with an Imperial wagon driving four prisoners down a snowy mountain pass. All are seated and bound; the one dressed in finery is gagged.]
Ralof: Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.
Lokir: D**n you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell. You there. You and me — we should be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.
Ralof: We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.
Imperial Soldier: Shut up back there!
[Lokir looks at the gagged man.]
Lokir: And what’s wrong with him?
Ralof: Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King.
Lokir: Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?
Ralof: I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits.
Lokir: No, this can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.
Ralof: Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?
Lokir: Why do you care?
Ralof: A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.
Lokir: Rorikstead. I’m…I’m from Rorikstead.
[They approach the village of Helgen. A soldier calls out to the lead wagon.]
Imperial Soldier: General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!
General Tullius: Good. Let’s get this over with.
Lokir: Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me.
Ralof: Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. D**n elves. I bet they had something to do with this. This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny…when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.
[A man and son watch the prisoners pull into town.]
Haming: Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?
Torolf: You need to go inside, little cub.
Haming: Why? I want to watch the soldiers.
Torolf: Inside the house. Now.
Galadriel: (speaking partly in Elvish)
(I amar prestar aen.)
The world is changed.
(Han matho ne nen.)
I feel it in the water.
(Han mathon ned cae.)
I feel it in the earth.
(A han noston ned gwilith.)
I smell it in the air.
Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it.
It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf-Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of Men, who above all else desire power. For within these rings was bound the strength and the will to govern each race. But they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made. Deep in the land of Mordor, in the Fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged a master ring, and into this ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life.
One ring to rule them all.
One by one, the free lands of Middle-Earth fell to the power of the Ring, but there were some who resisted. A last alliance of men and elves marched against the armies of Mordor, and on the very slopes of Mount Doom, they fought for the freedom of Middle-Earth. Victory was near, but the power of the ring could not be undone. It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the king, took up his father’s sword.
Sauron, enemy of the free peoples of Middle-Earth, was defeated. The Ring passed to Isildur, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever, but the hearts of men are easily corrupted. And the ring of power has a will of its own. It betrayed Isildur, to his death.
And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, when chance came, it ensnared another bearer.
It came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains. And there it consumed him. The ring gave to Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind, and in the gloom of Gollum’s cave, it waited. Darkness crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor grew of a shadow in the East, whispers of a nameless fear, and the Ring of Power perceived its time had come. It abandoned Gollum, but then something happened that the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable: a hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire.
For the time will soon come when hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.
To sit in solemn silence in a dull, dark, dock,
In a pestilential prison, with a life-long lock,
Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp, shock,
From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block!
Do I really look like a guy with a plan, Harvey?
I don’t have a plan …
The mob has plans. The cops have plans.
You know what I am, Harvey? I am a dog chasing cars… I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it.
I just do things. I am just the wrench in the gears. I hate plans.
Yours, theirs, everyone’s. Maroni has plans. Gordon has plans.
Schemers trying to control their worlds.
I am not a schemer. I show the schemer how pathetic their attempts to control things really are.
So when I say that you and your girlfriend was nothing personal, you know I am telling the truth.
I just did what I do best. I took your plan and turned it on itself.
Look what I have done to this city with a few drums of gas and a couple of bullets.
Nobody panics when the expected people gets killed. Nobody panics when things go according to plan, even if the plan is horrifying.
If I tell the press that tomorrow a gangbanger will get shot or a truckload of soldiers will be blown up, nobody panics. – because it’s all part of the plan.
But when I say that one little old mayor will die, everybody lose their minds.
Introduce a little anarchy, you upset the established order and everything becomes chaos.
I am agent of chaos.
And you know the thing about chaos Harvey?
“IT is FAIR.”
Hello, ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using ladies scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, he could smell like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on a boat with the man your man could smell like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s an oyster with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again, the tickets are now diamonds. Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. I’m on a horse.
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