It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Upon being asked if she's herself, she affirms that she is. Despite her words, Percy gleans into her demeanor, but can't seem to find any sort of deceit in her expression or tone, again sadly noticing the change in his sister compared to five years ago.
DM: 11. Okay. Best you can tell, she seems very honest. She seems forthright. You're used to the memory of your sister being this bright-eyed, cheerful, youngest of the bunch, and definitely a woman who sees the world with fresh eyes. These eyes are different. They're colder. They're hardened. In ways, you're impressed; in ways, you're also immediately sad to see that that memory of your sister probably is no longer there.
Player: We're putting an end to the Briarwoods tonight. Before the sun sets. This is the end of them. It's all going to be over, and we're going to stop whatever it is they're doing under the city.
DM: "You say this. We've tried twice."
Player: I know. This is it.
DM: "That's what the others thought. You left me, you know."
Player: I know, and I'm so sorry.
DM: "Good. Well, if we're going to do this, let's get ready."
Player: You're going to your room.
DM: "Yes, I am."
