Hope is a bad survival strategy.
And you, heretic! Where is she? Where is the queen?” “Have you checked your ass? I heard it’s pretty roomy in there.” I spat blood, moving to hands and knees. I still had the Spear of Nine Spheres wrapped in one tight-knuckled fist, for all the good it was doing me. “You are in no position to sling insults.” The masked Mata Argis Agent had a cold voice, dark with anger. “Where is she!? What have you done to her?!” “The same thing I do to your mom every night.
You come up to my sternum,” Suri drawled back. “Anything below tit-height is a kid or a dwarf.
I was going be to flying around like some wacked-out Chinese martial arts movie hero by endgame, which was 200% okay with me.
Hey, what do you think the best way to train Willpower is?” “Willpower? Uhh... ” Suri trailed off. “I dunno. Playing chess?” “That’s more Int, I think.” “Willpower is all about resisting stuff, right?” Suri shrugged. “You probably train it through resisting temptation, defeat, stuff like that.” “Resisting temptation, huh?” I scratched the stubble on my jaw. “Guess I’m starting up No-Nut November.” “Well, yeah.
That, my good sir, appears to be an eyeball.
How wonderful,” I said flatly. The sarge grinned, her eyes glittering. “Every day’s wonderful here with me. Dismissed!
I used to get up and sleep eat when I was alive. One time, I woke up in the kitchen and found myself shoveling gummi bears covered in hot sauce into my face.
And that, right there, was why I wasn’t playing a mage. I’d probably read a Name backwards and summon Cthulhu.