Selected BF Quotes:
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"Seljure's [king of Moll] always been wobbly on the throne, ever since Stygg fell to the Jheck and he balked at invading. Now we've got a horde of savages just the other side of the strait and all Seljure does is bleat empty threats."
"Savages ain't quite on the mark. It's a complicated horde, them Jheck. You've got a pantheon chock-full of spirits and demons and the like - and the War Chief answers to the Elders in everything but the lay of battle. Now, he might well be something special, what with all his successes - after all, Stygg fell in the span of a day and a night, and Hood knows what magery he's got all on his own - but if the Elders--"
"Ain't interested in that. Just be glad them Jheck can't row a straight course in the Lees. I heard they burned the Stygg galleys in the harbours - if that bit of thick-headed stupidity don't cost the War Chief his hat of feathers, then those Elders ain't got the brains of a sea urchin, That's all I'm saying. It's Seljure who's wobbly enough to turn Lamentable Moll into easy pickings."
[...]
"A king with some spine is what we need, that's all."
"That's what they said in Korel when that puffed up Captain, Mad Hilt, usurped the throne, though pretty soon no one was saying nothing about nothing, since they were all dead or worse."
This one's just funny because there's the Lady term but in reference to Oponn
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"So, Mancy, looking for work again, eh? Had yourself a run of Lad's Luck with your employers, it seems. Lady fend the poor sod fool enough to take you on - not that you ain't reliable, of course."
"Maybe Hood's made you his Herald, ever thought of that? It happens, you know. Not many diviners cracking the Deck these days, meaning there's now ay to tell, really. The Lord of Death picks his own, don't he, and there ain't adamned thing to be one for it."
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"Hood's Herald! That's me, heh heh! A joke! Hood's truth - I mean, I swear by the Sisters! Health and Plague divvy my plate - I mean, fate - come back here, man!"
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"And before that I was a cockswain on the able trader, Searime, for twenty years doing the Stygg run down the Bloodwalk Strait."
"Ahh, and this ship and her captain?"
"Sixty fathoms down, off Ridry Shelf."
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"Not at all. An incentive, sir. Now that the seas have subsided, and the blood-toll is no more, well, I itch for sea-spray, a pitching deck, rolling skylines, the tip and tumble and turn - is something wrong, sir?"
"No, not at all. I simply prefer travelling overland. I take it you can read, or did you hire someone?"
"Oh no, I can read, sir. I've a talent for that. I can read Moll, Theftian and Stygg - from the chart-books, sir. Our pilot, you see, had a taste for the mead-
"Can you scribe in these languages as well, Mister Reese?"
"Aye, sir. Both scrying and scribing. Why, I can read Mell'zan!"
"Malazan?"
"No, Mell'zan. The Empire, you know."
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[...]
In the days when the Mell'zan Empire had first threatened the city-states of Theft - mostly on the other coast, where the Imperial Fist Greymane had landed his invasion force, coming close to conquering the entire island before being murdered by his own troops - in the days of smoke and threatening winds, Sekarand had come to Lamentable Moll. Calling himself a High Sorceror, he had contracted with King Seljure to aid in the city's defense, and had raised this structure as his spar of power. What followed then was confused, and remained so ever since, though Guld knew more details than most. Sekarand had raised liches to keep him company within these confines, and they'd either driven him mad, or murdered him outright - Sekarand had flung himself, or had been thrown, from these very merlons, down to his death on the cobbles below.
[...]
the Mell'zans - whose presence on Theft remained in but a single, down-trodden port on the northwest coast with half a regiment of jaded marines
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His memory swept him back to his youth, on the battlefield that would in legend be known as Estbanor's Grief, where the rag-tag militias of Theft - before each city found its own king - had thrown back an invading army from Korel. Among the Korelri legions were soldiers who carried Mell'zan weapons - each superbly made and superor to anything local. This was such a weapon, made by a master smith, consructed entirely of hardened, tempered iron - maybe even the famous D'Avorian Steel - even the stock was metal.
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[...]
TV: "I have crossed swords with Hood's Herald, do you forget?"
Guld: "[the above] it's a claim he's made for twenty years."
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"Many conjectures abound on the subject. I myself concur with the sage Kulp Elder's theory that necromancy occupies the threshold of Hood's Warren [...]
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"Mmhmm. For example, your wife of thirty years..."
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This post has been edited by D'rek: 09 January 2011 - 06:03 AM