Chydder demonstrating his true skill at impressing progeny at the Soren Draa arcade.

Kildair: Shifted drastically.

O Chydder! I do scrawl his name; It fills my heart with rapt’rous lust And one day you’ll be glad I came. Each blood-scribed letter’s just the same I’ll fly them till we fall to dust O Chydder! I do scrawl his name. My race is well known for its shame, And yours long dwelled beneath the crust, But one day you’ll be glad I came. Soon ends our romantic game, For through your throat a blade is thrust— O Chydder! I do scrawl his name! Not your visage for to maim, Though mine is one you cannot trust; Yet one day you’ll be glad I came. To your bed, your blood lays claim; Your name is writ, your limbs are trussed; O Chydder! I do scrawl his name, And one day you’ll be glad I came.

Kildair: There have been some serious accusations by both parties.

Chydder and Kildair celebrating all of the free stuff left lying around in Lion's Arch after the explosion.

Chydder: You know, Kildair, I've felt recently as though Equinox and I don't exactly mesh. Like trying to nail in a screw with a 3.6 mm hydraulic wrench. Chydder: I'm going renegade. Chydder sounds pleased with himself. Kildair: Renegade? Chydder: Yes. I'm making my own Order. Chydder: Chyddernox. Kildair: Oh.

Seletii: Well! How about we just give him tiny plastic capsules that do nothing! Like a placebo! Chydder: I think that's what we're planning on doing. Seletii: Then I'm a -genius-! Chydder: Hah! Chydder: I think you mean, *we're* a genius. Miru Gai feels her head hurting.

Chydder: Might I remind you of my EIGHTEEN YEARS of education? You know what they say. It takes an Asura five years to become an expert at something. That makes me an expert almost five times over. Kildair: You're right, Chydder. You're an expert at five things. Kildair: Four of them are reminding everyone you're an expert. Chydder: What's the fifth one? Kildair: No one's figured that out yet.