Lukas: Python, I think an entire village could be swallowed up in one of your yawns. Perhaps you should try sleeping instead of staggering back to camp at sunup. I cannot turn a blind eye to this type of behavior forever. You're a soldier. Occasionally, we need you to behave like one.
Python: Sir, yes, sir! Crivens, what is it with you knightly types? Don't you know how to get out and let your greaves down a little?
Lukas: We haven't always been so formal. But now Zofia is at war, and we must—
Python: Wait. Stop. You actually USED to be more footloose and fancy-free? So you're saying if I dig deep enough, I might find dirt on Clive?!
Lukas: I...wouldn't go that far. But I have heard tale that all the ladies of court would giggle as he passed by.
Python: Pfft. BOOO-RING. I mean, at least tell me they were SALACIOUS giggles. Come on, Lukas. Fill old Python in here. Is our Clive a dirty boy? Eh? Eeeeeh? I promise I'll only tell my closest friends.
Python: I'm still waiting for a good sordid story involving knights. So what about you?!
Lukas: ...Me? My past is hardly sordid enough to sate YOUR appetite for gossip.
Python: Are you suuure? You know all the ladies in town keep asking me who the knight in red is. Which, by the way, means they're not paying attention to me, so thanks. But you can make it up to me with an earful of tasty noble scuttlebutt!
Lukas: I don't see how that makes any sense whatsoever, but very well. Hmm... Well, back home, there was a woman I courted for many a year.
Python: Ooh! Now we're getting somewhere. Was she a looker? Was it serious? Were her eyes like shimmering—
Lukas:Stop pestering me like an old maid. Looks like the enemy is nearly upon us. Let's get back to it.
Python:Hey, wait! Come back! I wanna hear about your special lady friend!
Python: Heh heh... I've got you cornered now, Lukas. Now I'll hear every last detail about that woman you courted!
Lukas: Juicy...? *sigh* I fear you are going to leave this conversation sorely disappointed.
Python: Hmm. I'll admit, the mention of her doesn't quite seem to fire your loins. So what's the story? Don't you love her?
Lukas: Fire my...? Honestly, Python? I'm not sure if I love her or not. Since being parted from her, I feel no particular longing to see her again. I sometimes wonder if a vital part of me is broken. I look at Clive and Mathilda and see... Well, you used the word "fire". But whatever it is that they have, I seem to lack it.
Python: Aw, don't you worry. You're still young. The "one true love" thing isn't for everyone. Certainly not for me. And I dare anyone to tell ME that I'M broken.
Lukas: So you think such lack of feeling are normal?
Python: Perfectly! if you ask me, Clive and Mathilda are the weird ones. The way they look at each other with rainbows shootin' from their eyes...Heh. Look, one day you might decide you miss your lady. But take it at your own pace.
Lukas: My own pace... That's...surprisingly sound advice.
Python: And if she falls into the arms of another man before you come around, so be it. I'll be here to cheer you up. We can hit the town, quaff some ale, spend all your money... It'll be great!
Lukas: Heh heh. I don't doubt I would be in good hands...
With Clive (Once you complete the Siege of Zofia Castle DLC)Edit
Python: Uuuuugh! Is the battle over yet? This is exhausting. Just get me as far away from the front lines as possible!
Python: Ahh! Yes?! Um...yes?
Clive: Why the surprise? I just wanted to see how you were faring.
Python: Oh. Well, I suppose I've had better days. ...Uh, sir.
Clive: Honesty always was your finest trait. Still, now that Alm has assumed leadership, we've many new recruits. They're inexperienced, and even frightened in many cases. Such men look to you, ad it would behoove you to set a better example.
Python: Beggin' your pardon, but I ain't so sure that's a good idea. Folks already got you and Forsyth and Lukas for role models if they want 'em. If ol' Python starts acting all hoity-toity, they'll have no one approachable left. Someone around here has to stay on their level.
Clive: I understand, but this is an army. We must also teach them discipline.
Python: You won't get discipline if you don't create a welcoming atmosphere.
Clive: And you don't think we have that now?
Python: Well, I didn't say THAT. ...Er, sir. But truth is, it's not always easy for everyone to find his or her place here.
Clive: I must confess, our last discussion has been weighing on me quite heavily. I seek to close the rift between the Deliverance's nobles and commoners. But there are days when it seems to only grow wider. Have I not endeavored to treat those of low birth fairly? I always thought to reward my men based on merit, not station. And yet you believe some still struggle to fit in.
Python: Well, you won't win any points by using terms like "low birth." ...Sir. You make it sound like it's our privilege to be elevated to your level. Like if we don't have your station, then all we really have are our merits.
Clive: I never meant to slight you, Python. Nor anyone else.
Python: Yeah, I know that. And anyway, you didn't create the order of the world. It ain't your fault. But respectfully and all? You might wanna stop preaching understanding. You can't understand us. Not really. Your life is just very...different.
Clive: You're right. I've never had to worry about starving or freezing to death... I have never had to face the same indignities or despair as you. Yet in trying to champion those causes, perhaps I have become a hypocrite.
Python: Eh, don't flog yourself about it. Lot's of commoners want a champion like you. Hell, Forsyth practically walks behind you tossin' out rose petals. But some of us commonfolk just aren't ever going to relate to you, so... You know what? What do I know. Forget I said anything, sir.
Python: Sir Clive. Your spirits lifted yet? Sorry for running my mouth, by the way. After our last heart-to-heart, everyone blamed me for putting you out of sorts. Clair practically had me at lancepoint. ...Wait, not practically. Literally. Anyway, if you could tell 'em to let up on poor Python, I'd appreciate it.
Clive: I apologize for what you went through. ...Especially that lance business. It took me some time to come to grips with all you told me. Would you hear me out?
Python: All right...
Clive: Python, I believe in structure. There should be a king and a nobility, and beneath them, common people. That is the structure I was born into. And, to be blunt, I still believe it is the structure a kingdom needs to survive. So I apologize if that does not sit well with you.
Clive: But I CAN believe all that and still have tremendous respect for you. I mean what I say, Python: Noble or common, any man who fights at my side is my ally and friend. I just wanted you to know that.
Python: ...I really got your silk stockings in a bunch, didn't I? Well so long as we're leveling with each other, I think you're dead wrong. Nobles living fancy while the people starve ain't structure—it's privilege. And I hate any man who looks down on me because of it. Now, does that mean I hate you? No. You may not be my FAVORITE person in all the land, but—
Clive: Clearly not.
Python: Heh. Touché. Well let's just agree to disagree on this point, eh? You may not know what it is to starve or freeze, but you still put your life and livelihood at risk for the sake of others. That's enough to win my respect. I mean, it's sure as hell something you'll never catch ME doing!
Python: So even if you don't have my undying affection, rest assured you have my bow, at least until this war is over.
Clive: This gladdens me, Python. Thank you. I cannot say what waits for us at the end of all this, but I hope that we will secure better lives for noble and commoner alike. So please keep fighting—if not for me, then for Alm.
Python: Ugh. I said I would already, didn't I? Ah, whatever. You got it, sir!
Python:Crivens, here he comes again... What is it now, Forsyth?
Forsyth:Don't give me that innocent mummery act! Do you think I'm not watching you? Sir Alm and the others are fighting five times as hard as you are! You're barely even pretending to try! Have you no honor or shame?
Python: Shame? ...Nope, sorry. Not feeling it. But good on that lot for keeping at it!
Forsyth: You know, it's high past time I told you a number of—
Python: Whoops, here comes the enemy! Gotta skedaddle now. Ta-ta!
Python: Forsyth? You all right there, pal? You haven't yelled at me yet. In fact, you NEVER snap at me anymore. Don't tell me you've given up.
Forsyth: No, I wouldn't call it "giving up." But the excuses you come up with for not trying are beyond comprehension.
Python: That's because you're not TRYING to comprehend them. Look, I'm not like other folks. I don't like chasing wildly after some dream. Dream's don't fill the belly, and they sure don't pay for life's other comforts. So you know what? I'm happier without 'em.
Forsyth: Truly? *sigh* Well, that sounds utterly depressing, but if you're happy, I'll let it be. But we ARE fighting a battle here, so perhaps a modicum of help is in order?