#cale plamann

“Words are useful, but they are abstractions. General descriptions that cannot possibly encompass the wonderful and majestic truths of the natural world.”

Magic isn’t a safe or comfortable thing. It won’t give without taking something back.”

“The plan doesn’t involve us escaping. A dragon may retreat, but it never truly runs away, it just bides its time for later, preparing itself for revenge.

Dragon became drake. Drake became wyrm. Wyrm became dragonkin. Dragonkin became lizardfolk. Finally, the lizardfolk with the weakest of blood became us. Kobolds.

After all, the number one killer of adventurers was impatience. If you could fight a monster slow and cautiously, only the young and foolish would take that option.

“But does my age really matter?” Micah asked, unable to help himself from grinning back. “You don’t even know how many lifetimes I’ve lived already. For all you know I’m a thousand years old and trapped in a fifteen-year-old’s body.” “Yeaaaaah.” She looked him up and down. “That sounds like the kind of excuse that people make as they’re being led away to the King’s dungeons. I’m not the most law-abiding person ever, but I’d prefer to avoid adding ‘sex criminal’ to that list.”

If you aren’t able to outfight your opponent, you’d damn well better outthink your opponent.

Zoe chuckled before tapping her chest. “This is what matters. Determination. A talented individual who doesn’t try isn’t fit to hold the sword of a mediocre individual who works from sunup to sundown. Of course, talent still helps, but the Lancers aren’t in the habit of recruiting the fancy noble types that will sit around talking about all the monsters they’re going to slay but never leave the taprooms.”