A Jeweler's Lament/Plot Details

===Cutscenes===
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===Game Script===
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A Jeweler's Lament - Bastok Markets (S)
Wahid: Well met! I am Wahid, a gem dealer of some repute. If you're a woman of class--<ahem!>--you've doubtless already heard of me.
Wahid: Despite my copious wealth, I am a simple man of simple pleasures. Sell jewels by the cartload, and use the ample proceeds to wine and dine on the Republic's finest fare...I ask for little else. Sadly, this accursed war has cut off my supply line, putting a dent in my profits and forcing me to subside on--<gasp!>-- commoner's fare.
Wahid: Alas! 'Tis a fate worse than death. But you seem the capable sort, so perhaps you could lend me a hand. Recently, I'm suffering from a shortage of product--sunstones, aquamarines, and jadeites, to be exact.
Wahid: What's that? Where lies the market for gems in the midst of a war, you say?
Wahid: Oh ho! Allow me to let you in on the secret of my success. My loyal wife, you see, is a goldsmith of unparalleled skill. She fashions the gemstones I procure into rings so breathtaking that it is said mothers have let their children go hungry to own one!
Wahid: Ah-ha-ha! Oh-ho-ho-<cough, hack> Ahem! But I jest.
Wahid: At any rate, see if you can locate the three stones I seek. Rest assured that I can make it very much worth your while.
(Bringing him the 3 gems he requested)
Wahid: Oho! I knew I could count on you! After all, my sterling character judgement is quite renowed in the Bastokan merchant circle.
Wahid: Ah, yes! Splendiferous! Magnificent! I need only sell these, and I'll have wine enough to bathe in!
Wahid: What say you to 50,000 gil for the lot o fthem? You see? My far-famed generosity knows no bounds!
(Accepting the 50k)
???: Wahid! What's all this hubbub? I could hear your blathering all the way from my studio!
Wahid: Oh, there you are, my dear! You couldn't have picked a finer time to come.
Wahid: This is my wife Swantje, of whom I spoke. And this, my dear, is the industrious young woman/man who has brought the gems that will make me--<ahem!>, I mean us--rich beyound our wildest dreams!
Wahid: So hop to it, honey. Work your magic on these beauties!
Swantje: Wahid... Must you truly go on with this?
Swantje: Even the most precious gem that never leaves its jewel casked is naught but a lonely rock.
Swantje: Bastok is at war...or haven't you noticed? In these hard times, it is all folk like us can do to get through each day with food on our tables and our loved ones' lives intact. Still you look only to profit off the sale of these luxuries?
Wahid: Ahahaha! Bwahahaha--<cough, hack>>. Please stop, my dear, lest I bust a gut from laughter!
Wahid: 'Tis precisely because our lives may end at any moment that I choose to make the most of the time I have. If some vainglorious goodwife is willing to lighten her purse to that end, who am I to stand in the way? Would you deny me that?
Swantje: But Wahid...is there not a greater good we could be serving?
Swantje: A truer cause that calls for our aid?
Swantje: In these trying times, it is not lavish baubles that renew people's spirits, but hopes and dreams of a brighter future!
Swantje: Here is what I propose. Forget precious gems. We can fashion a new line of goods to sell at a more modest price.
Swantje: What if you could find...yes, the mystic stones spoken of in the old legends. I could fashion them into good-luck charms. Anything to give the fearful townsfolk a dose of hope and courage.
Wahid: Mystic stones? Good-luck charms? Bwahahahahahaha!
Wahid: You're quite the jokester today, my dear! Even if such things existed--which I doubt they do--why should I break my back hunting down pebbles that would bring but a pittance in return?
Wahid: You may have talent, but let us not forget that it's me and my prodigious gem acquisition skills that put the food on our table.
Wahid: Hopes? Dreams? Courage? P'shaw! I'm a businessman--a successful one at that--and I intend to stay that way.
Wahid: If the mushy sentiments of the rabble are of such concern to you, maybe you should go find your precious "mystic stones" yourself!
---Swantje runs away----
Wahid: There she goes again. Oh well, can't say I didn't try to talk some sense into her.
Wahid: I'm afraid we'll have to put our little transaction on hold.
Wahid: She's a willful one, but without her skills, those stones won't sell for a tenth of what I offered you.
Wahid: But worry not, friend! SHe'll come around, as she always does. My infallible merchant's instincts tell me so.
Wahid: It won't be long before we're all rolling in gil. Ahahaha! Bwahahahahahaha--<cough, hack>.
(Zoning and returning to him)
Wahid: Oh ho! There you are! SOrry you had to witness our little lovers's spat the other day. Hohoho...
Wahid: Actually, speaking of my wife... You haven't perchance seen her around, have you?
Wahid: It pains me to say this, but she hasn't been back home since that day.
Wahid: Wherever could she have run off to?
Wahid: i don't mean to turn you into my errand girl/boy, but perhaps you could take a look around for her?
Wahid: It appears my ifallible merchant's instincts aren't quite what they used to be. Ahahaha!
(Zoning to North Gustaberg [S])
Bernhard: Sir! Reporting back from patrol of the P-Palborough Mines, sir! N-Nothing out of the ordinary, save for what sounded like the faint scream of a woman in the v-vicinity of the entrance.
Bernhard: Assuming it to be a g-ghost--and a potential liability to my well-being--I n-naturally investigated no further, sir!
Solitary Ant: Idiot! And you call yourself a soldier? Could it have been a mercenary...? With the famine of late, perhaps it was an unfortunate civilian collecting mushrooms for their starving children...
Bernhard: Of c-course, sir! Gee, you're so smart, sir!
Solitary Ant: Anyway, we'd best have a rescue squad sent out. Pull yourself together and come with me!
(Checking the ??? spot in North Gustaberg [S])
--- You find Swantje corpse lying, and is interrupted by the rescue squad ---
Eckbert Hain: You there! What's a civilian like you doing in a dangerous area like this? You should get back to town before you find yourself on the wrong end of a Quadav's axe.
Eckbert Hain: It's too late...she's gone.
Eckbert Hain: Northing we can do. Let's bring her back to town and see if we can't track down her identity. If she left behind any love ones, they wil have to be contacted.
(Returning to Wahid)
Wahid: Ah! I've been waiting for you! Have a look at this letter. I found it as I was searching my house just a moment ago.
Wahid: Here, you can read it along with me. Perhaps it might offer us a clue as to Swantje's whereabouts.
--- Starts letter ---
My dearest husband,
Forgive me for running off in a huff like that...sometimes I allow my emotions to get the better of me.
I imagine you're asking yourself where I came up with that far-fetched notion of mystic stones.
I meant not to anger you.
Still, I fear that if I were to say this face-to-face, I would succeed only in incurring your ire once more.
And so, I put ink to parchment.
Do you remember the ring you gave me on your wedding day?
So unique, so lovely...it piqued my curiosity from the start.
Recently I learned that it was one of the early works of a highly celebrated goldsmith.
The story has it that this goldsmith intended to set the ring with one of the stones of legend.
Though they do not shine as bright as diamonds--nor any other precious gem--it is said that they would bring lifelong happiness to any couple.
Did you know?
Ever the businessman, you were doubless more concerned with its glitter than its history...
Still, in these dark times...I thought we could work together to provide that same hope and happiness to the disheartened populace. I wanted this with all my heart.
Call me a sentimental little girl, but this is why I sought your aid in finding the stones. And why I now go in search of them...on my own...
I know you are still angry at me. But I promise you...
I will find the stone and fashion the most beautiful ring the three nations have ever seen.
That day, I hope you can forgive me.
Yours,
Swantje
--- End of letter ---
Wahid: What is that woman thinking!? She's always been pigheaded, but to think she was actually serious about going on that wild crystal chase! And alone, to boot!
Wahid: Hmmm? What was that look on your face just now? Is there something you're not telling me?
(Showing the ring you found)
Wahid: Why, this...this is the wedding ring I gave Swantje!
Wahid: What were you doing with it?
Wahid: Where did you find this, I say!?
Wahid: You're hiding something from me, I know it! Out with it before I lose my patience!
(Telling him the bad news)
Wahid: No...it can't... D-damn you! You're...you're trying to trick me...You--
Eckbert Hain: You are the jeweler Wahid, correct?
Eckbert Hain: I am afraid I bring somber news. Our border patrol has reported a citizen slain in the vicinity of the Palborough Mines.
Eckbert Hain: The victim has been confirmed as your wife, Swantje.
Eckbert Hain: It appears she was targeted by a band of Quadav raiders.
Wahid: No...it can't be true...Oh, Goddess! Why do you forsake me so? How could you lead her into harm's way! M-my...my Swantje...<sob>
Gabriele: ...
Gabriele: Your wife was holding this in her hand. I know your grief is still fresh, but take it. It is yours.
Wahid: Could it be...? A shard of obsidian!
Wahid: Back in the day when I was but a fledgling shop owner, without the resources to procure precious gems, Swantje would bring these home, and polish them until they sparkled like the starlit night sky...
Gabriele: At the time, I thought them little more than pebbles...
Wahid: Ah, to return to those days! Our store was but a shack, these stones bringing in barely enough coin to afford the ramshackle roof over our heads...
Wahid: And yet, our travails brought us closer than we had ever been before...or have been since. Looking back...those were probably the happiest years of our lives.
Wahid: Swantje...
Eckbert Hain: Your wife's remains are being held in the military morgue, should you wish to pay your last respects.
(Returning to Wahid one more time)
Wahid: Oh...it's you again. Please forgive me for the other day...the grief was too much to bear.
Wahid: Since that day, this shard of obsidian has never left my hand. It's worth no more than a pebble, and isn't even much to look at. But I shall cherish it more than the most precious diamond.
Wahid: I have decided to take it upon myself to realize Swantje's unfulfulled dream. I shall collect stones like the one she gave her life to find, and do waht I can to bring hope and good fortune to the people.
Wahid: Such is the least I can do to honor her memory. And when the day comes that I leave this world to rejoin her side, I can only hope she will forgive me...
Wahid: This trainee burin was one of her most beloved tools.
Wahid: Please take it. You're far more of a goldsmith than I. Perhaps someday, when you become a master, you can fashion Swantje's stone into a ring worthy of her memory.