Life dies in my wake, sacrificing itself to my hunger
The Masque of Hunger
Good and evil? I see neither, I only see law and order opposing chaos and anarchy. Anarchy means blood, death, and poverty. I’ll take order and riches over that.
Sokolov the Axiomancer
A demon’s kiss burns with lust and with shame. So do their secrets and their magic.
30 painted ladies of the oldest profession. Reader discretion is advised.
The 13 living statues of the Dal Nastro ruins
First, you get the gold. Then you get the power. I could care about the women, I’ve had the men in the palm of my hand since I was 17.
Memoirs of Wealth, excerpt
Be a good little prince and stop throwing tantrums of the Black Jester will get you and eat you up.
Words of many a Nanny and noblewoman
Caution: Graphic Content
Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms, greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge has marked the upward surge of mankind
Pismir the Miser
The Mughal of the Gremils, the Shah of Lag, the most devoted of Mathom.
Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.
The Book of Hammerskjold
The definition of a Henchman: a man who really knows his away around a hench.
Yet another list of 30, this time fiendish foes, vile villians, and and dastardly do-badders.
The restless shade of a terrible demon of an age long since dust.
An outcaste goblin with a sadistic streak and a secret talent
The body is a temporary host for a transcendental creature, though most of these creatures fail to transcend before the death of the host. I shall not fail.
The Unification War was a travesty, an act of naked fascism against frontier worlds so diverse and destitute that their submission was not worth the cost in lives, material, and hostility garnered. We, gentlemen, have created generations of enemies.
L. C. Vallandigham
The Patron Saint of Beverages, Hang-Overs, Regrets
Blessed be are those wed beneath apple tree
Common Falk Saying, the Midlands
Mercenaries and bounty hunters? We don’t need the help of scum like that.
30 mystical imps to perch upon your wizard’s shoulder and whisper the secrets of magic and the universe.
The party comes across a nice hermit in the woods. He gives them food and lodging for the night. They awaken to his terrified screams. "East! It's east! Stop it! It'll kill us all!" The poor horror-stricken hermit dies thrashing in agony, one boney arm outstretched, his finger pointing to the east.