Luna. ✨ > Books: epic-fantasy‎ (33)

“Deato mendea valus febletta. The Gods give every man a weakness.”

“Deato mendea valus febletta. The Gods give every man a weakness.”

"Every village needs an idiot,"

"To mayhem and fighting".

"To mayhem and fighting".

“He’d told me the world could be the most lovely place you could imagine, so long as your imagination was fueled by love.”

"The problem with Brasti is that he's an idiot. He's handsome and charming, he can outshoot any man or woman with a bow, and he's an idiot."

"Fuck anyone who ever doubts the purpose of daring acts of heroism"

"Fuck anyone who ever doubts the purpose of daring acts of heroism"

"Because. I. Will. Not. Allow. Them. To. Forget. It"

‘I’m coming for y

‘I’m coming for you, Lykos,’ Maquin bellowed through cupped hands, ‘and neither demons from the Otherworld nor flesh and blood will stop me.’

‘This day,’ he cried, shouting now, ‘we will live or die, but whatever the outcome, this will still be the day we avenge ourselves for those we’ve lost, the day we right the wrongs done to us, or die in the trying. It will be a dark day, a bloody day, a proud day, for this is the day of our wrath.’ ‘WRATH,’ the cry went up, ringing and echoing through the branches. ‘WRATH.’

‘Yes. So don’t go getting carried away and running off to stab people.’ ‘This is a day for stabbing people.’

‘The enemy of my enemy,’ Corban shrugged, remembering Balur had said those same words to him in Murias. ‘That’s no answer,’ Ildaer rumbled. ‘What do you fight for, if not Elyon?’ ‘For my kin and loved ones. So that we will not be enslaved or murdered. I’ve seen the Kadoshim, seen only a brief glimpse of what they would do, and it is terrible. I fight against that. I fight for my freedom.’

The warrior’s face filled her mind, beaten and scarred. Proud. Fierce.

In half a dozen strokes of his sword four men were dead or bleeding out on the floor. Maquin screamed wordless joy as the battle-rage took him and he strode through them like death itself, parrying, chopping, stabbing. He left one of his swords stuck in an enemy’s spine, drew a knife and fought on .

You are precious to me,’ she finished, her courage fading at the last, her eyes dropping away. A silence settled on them. The chattering of the stream, the sounds of Veradis’ warband making ready for their expedition, all faded around her. Maquin moved, suddenly close to her, a handspan between them, and her heart was racing. He leaned closer and kissed her lips, a soft caress. ‘I came back from death for you,’ he said, his voice a whispered tremor. ‘For me it was always forever, however long that may be. And those words you just spoke, they are the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. They are written upon my heart and soul.’ ‘Then let me give you another gift,’ she said, smiling, her heart soaring, grabbing his leather jerkin

'Nathair considered his allies. A drunken pirate. A demon-possessed attraction to flies and a half-burned Kadoshim. How have I sunk so low?'

'Brina, are you sober?’ ‘What?’ ‘You don’t usually appear to like anyone, is all.’ ‘I like Storm,’ Brina said and poked him with a bony finger. ‘Make the most of it,’ she added, ‘I doubt it’ll last.’

“The so-called Emissary is going to regret crossing the Black Feather Three.”

“The so-called Emissary is going to regret crossing the Black Feather Three.”

“Sebastian’s blood soared with the silver tide.”

“I saw her murder and eat people, and she would not have stopped, not until every human was a dusty black mark on a rock somewhere. I saw that, while you were sitting out here in your commune for weirdos.”

“Somehow she had lost Glassheart too, but the Tower Gauntlets were there, lying amongst the broken glass. Stumbling slightly she snatched them up and slid them over her bare hands. There was a sensation, like plunging your hands into hot water, and she made a pair of fists in front of her. The gauntlets were over-sized but beautiful, and she grinned, tasting blood in her mouth.
‘All right, then, let’s see what you’ve fucking got.”

“Don’t lose my dagger. I’m very fond of it.’
‘Fine. Don’t get killed. I’m very fond of you.

“Yes. Well. I can say now that I’m really glad you weren’t stabbed to death by that bitch, because I fucking love you, Lord Aaron Frith.”

"And so it goes, thought Clay. Life was funny, and fickle, and often cruel. Sometimes the unworthy went on living, while those who deserved

"And so it goes, thought Clay. Life was funny, and fickle, and often cruel. Sometimes the unworthy went on living, while those who deserved better were lost."

"What Clay mistook for the mating cry of some forest creature turned out to be Moog’s quiet cackle."

"He made a pact with a demon, and through that made his greatest and most terrible works. He crafted the Edeian, as well as wielding the powers of a mage. But one day he asked to see the true form of the demon, for he had grown fond of it. When he saw its real face, he went insane." The shape of the prophet was very still now, and the clacking of the bones had stopped. Nuava swallowed hard, wondering if she should keep talking." It was terrifying, they said, and ugly beyond anything mortal. They said that if he were a normal man, he would have been struck blind aswell. They said-"
"That is quite enough Nuava." All the good humour had vanished from the prophets voice

There she was, standing in the dark, lit in shades of grey and orange by the moon and their dying fire; a girl, taller than he remembered, wearing leathers and furs, her long brown hair brushed back from her face and secured into a braid. Her eyes were filled with blood, and her hands were red to the wrists.

'Two for vengeance. One for

'Two for vengeance. One for love.’

"Corban, I’m scared," Cywen said. He gripped her hand and squeezed. "So am I,"
he replied.

‘It is a serious thing,’ Laith said, ‘taking a life. A sad thing, I think, though better to take another’s than to lose your own. Many of my kin consider the thorns a badge of honour. I suppose it is that as well.’ ‘It is,’ Cywen said. ‘But something can be many things, or can mean many things, not just be confined to the one. Like us.’ Laith looked at her intently

‘What would you like in return?’ Coralen asked her. ‘A trade.’ ‘Teach me how to use that,’ Cywen said, pointing to Coralen’s sword. ‘All right then,’ Coralen said and held her arm out. They gripped and shook forearms. I like her a bit more, already.

'In the Pit I was called old wolf, the only name I've gone by for a good long while. I am a trained killer. Have become that which I hate

"The Age of Kings is dead . . . and I have killed it."

"The Age of Kings is dead . . . and I have killed it."

"He had to do it the old fashioned way. One bullet at a time. No, he realized. He was Taniel Two-Shot. He'd take two at once."

"You the toughest one here?"
"Huh?" Fesnik seemed taken aback by this.
"Simple question," Taniel said. "Are you the toughest, fatherstabbing, goat-raping, inbred son of a whore in this place?"

"I could kill for ever."

"I could kill for ever."

"I changed my mind. It's been a slow morning and I am easily bored. You, fresh - meat. Who would like to die first?" She held up one of her daggers, showing it to the youngest guard. "This one is called frostling, and the other is ashes."
"That's the copper cat," he blurted. "She'll kill us all, and take our bodies back to crosshaven to feed to the graces!"

"'I love the stories like that' said Wydrin. 'Kings hidden under hills, magic in the ground.' She went quiet for a moment. 'Although the it's less entertaining when it's actually happening to you'"