The Outlander – cutscene
Background:These cutscenes serve as the framework for Malin’s story, a fugitive rogue pursued relentlessly by the unkillable Hound, a soldier tasked to hunt outlanders.
Part_1: Malin seeks aid from the Baron of Plaguewealth in the land of Criencia.
Part_2: Malin aims to assassinate her target, the governor of Scarletbay if she is meant to survive.
Music while reading:
Cutscene Script: The Outlander
Cutscene Sample: The Baron of Plaguewealth
The scene begins with Malin standing before the towering wrought-iron gates of the Baron’s sprawling estate. Snow blankets the grotesque statues lining the path, the silence is heavy and oppressive. As the gates slowly creak open, a pale, emaciated butler emerges, his hollow expressionism fixed on Malin as he steps forward to greet her.
Butler: “The Baron welcomes you, outlander. A rare pleasure.”
He gestures for Malin to follow, his gaunt face void of emotion.
Cut to a long shot of Malin walking behind the butler through the estate’s courtyard. The camera pans over the decaying opulence: servants dragging sacks of grain while overseers bark orders; snow tinged with blood; and villagers pressing against the iron fences, their hollow eyes staring at Malin. She avoids their gazes, her expression tense.
Interior shot: The dining hall. A grand table stretches across the room, weighed down by decadent food, roasted meats, candied fruits, and fine wine. The room is unnaturally warm, lit by an overabundance of flickering candelabras. The butler gestures to a chair, but Malin stands rigidly by the door.
Malin (mutters): “I’m not here to eat.”
The camera shifts to the doorway as the Baron makes his entrance. He sits atop a movable throne carried by four struggling servants, his corpulent body swathed in furs and fine silks. His scarred face is offset by soft, almost kind eyes, and he swirls a goblet of wine in his hand. He studies Malin with curiosity.
Baron (grinning): “So, an outlander seeks my aid. A rare sight indeed. I’d offer you wine, but… I see you’re the cautious sort.”
He chuckles, his voice smooth yet unsettling. The Baron gestures, and the servants set his throne down at the head of the table. He leans forward, peering at Malin.
Baron: “The Hound follows you. I can sense its gaze upon you.”
He waves a hand lazily toward the food.
“You’ve not stopped to rest, have you? Always running. Always looking over your shoulder.”
Malin (firmly): “Do you have the authority to stop it?”
The Baron’s expression shifts, a mix of amusement and sympathy.
Baron: “Me? Oh, no. No one man can command the Hound. Only the High Council of Criencia has that power. He became their personal slave, you see. And you’ve no hope of reaching them without help.”
Malin’s jaw tightens, her hands clenched into fists.
Malin: “There is nothing for me here then. If you can’t stop it, I’ve wasted my time.” [The Baron raises a hand, silencing her with an air of practised authority.]
Baron: “Not wasted, my dear. We can help each other.”
He leans back, swirling his wine again.
“To the north lies Scarletbay. The governor there… ah, he is weak. Cursed, yes, but too corrupt to be allowed to linger. Should you remove him from his lofty perch, I can take his place on the High Council. And then…”
He smiles, his eyes gleaming.
“…I will order the Hound to stop.”
The camera shifts to Malin’s face, her disgust barely masked. She glances at the food-laden table, the lavish surroundings, and then back to the Baron.
Malin (coldly): “You built all this on the backs of starving villagers. And now you want me to kill for you?”
The Baron chuckles, unbothered by her accusation.
Baron: “The world is built on such bargains. You’ll find no purer souls among the High Council or anywhere else in Criencia. Think of it not as killing for me, but securing your own survival. Do you really have a choice?”
A tense silence lingers as Malin glares at him, weighing her options. The camera cuts to a close-up of the Baron, who lifts his glass in a mock toast.
Baron: “To the choices we make… and the consequences we can’t escape.”
The cutscene fades to black as Malin’s expression hardens, the sound of the Baron’s laughter echoing into the darkness.
Cutscene Sample: A scarlet end
The scene begins in the dimly lit hall of the Governor’s church-fortress. Candles line the walls, their flickering light casting elongated shadows. Snow drifts lazily through a shattered stained-glass window, mingling with the faint smell of decay.
Malin enters cautiously; her blade drawn; the weight of exhaustion evident in her every step. She stands before the Governor, a decaying figure slumped in a grotesque throne. Tubes and pipes extend from the base of the chair into barrels filled with darkened blood. Servants kneel nearby, pale and trembling, their wrists bound to feed the infernal mechanism keeping the Governor alive.
Governor (wheezing): “Who sent you? Was it the Council? That wretched lot couldn’t stomach my strength. They plot, whisper, but lack the nerve to act. And so, they send… you.”
Malin stops a few paces from him, her grip tightening on her blade. Her eyes scan the room briefly then get back to the hideous sight of the governor.
Malin (coldly): “No one needed to send me.”
She steps closer, her hand hovering near the hilt of her blade.
“I came because I’ve seen enough. Your own people being literally drained, your family deranged and drunk by power; and your son locked away, rotting in his own home… dead in a room you abandoned.”
The Governor’s sunken cold eyes widen briefly, then narrow.
Governor (mockingly): “Ah… so you’ve been snooping. Their punishment was just. Some sins demand retribution, no matter how young the sinners.”
Malin’s glare hardens as she steps closer. Her voice sharpens...
Malin: “You call it justice? He’s dead, locked away for a decade in your filth. Whatever sin you imagined doesn’t excuse that.”
The governor rises from his throne slowly, while pipes connected to his body extend past their reach and blood fills the floor under his step. His hands gripping the armrests still, before he takes a step forward. His voice, tinged with mockery, echoes in the chamber.
Governor: “I don’t need excuses or lies, unlike you outlander! The council entrusted me with Scarletbay because they knew I could make the hard decisions. Your pity for the weak blinds you. But let me tell you; kill me, and you’ll regret it.”
He gestures toward her with a deliberate motion.
“You think the Hound is relentless? Wait until the numb-soul assassins hunt you. Or until the deamons from the Veil slip through the cracks. The council’s reach is endless, and you are no exception.”
Malin’s grip on her blade tightens, her stance unyielding. She steps even closer despite the threat. The governor sneers, raising his voice once more as he points to her accusingly.
Governor: “You think you’re righteous? You think you’re different? If you execute me, you will be the same as me! You are nothing but a -.”
Before he finishes his sentence her blade flashes as she drives it through the Governor’s throat. His body convulses, blood spraying from the tubes around him. The servants scream and scatter as life fades from the Governor’s cursed body. Silence falls, broken only by Malin’s ragged breaths. She wipes her blade clean, her expression unreadable.
But then, the sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps echoes through the hall. The camera shifts to the doorway as the Hound appears, his towering form nearly three metres tall. He holds the limp body of the Governor’s son in his arms. Malin freezes, her exhaustion visible as her eyes dart to the exit, then back to the Hound. She tightens her grip on her weapon, though her stance falters.
The Hound enters the room, his mechanical movements unsettling. He kneels and lays the body of the Governor’s son gently on the floor, then removes its gas mask with slow, deliberate care.
The camera reveals the Hound’s face: veined and pale, with sharp blonde hair framing hollow, blackened eyes. Tears streak down his harsh, scarred features as his hand rests gently on the lifeless man’s cheek, speaking to him.
Hound (voice low, otherworldly and emotionless): “My love… for a sin long buried, I bore your punishment… and mine.”
Malin’s expression shifts, shock mingling with confusion as the Hound’s words sink in. His gaze turns at her.
Hound: “You’ve stolen my vengeance. But grief... that is mine to bear.”
The Hound stands up and steps closer to Malin, his towering presence overwhelming but not hostile.
Hound: “I will not hunt you… for two days. Not for mercy, but for grief. Leave.”
He turns and strides away, leaving Malin standing motionless. The camera lingers on her face, a mix of disbelief, exhaustion, and the dawning realisation of the depth of Criencia’s horrors. The scene fades to black as Malin sprints into the darkness, the sound of her ragged breathing the only sound that remains.