Neverwinter Nights 2

These quotes are from the PC video game Neverwinter Nights 2.

Khelgar Ironfist: Prejudiced? I'm not prejudiced! By the Nine Hells, I even travel with a back-stabbing tiefling of all things, and you know how her kind are!

Player: And if you were laid to rest, I would not want anyone robbing your crypt, Neeshka. Please understand.
Neeshka: You'd build me a crypt? Wow. These tombs are so beautiful, that'd be a great place to sleep when I'm dead. I'm touched. That's a really sweet thing to do to me once I'm a corpse. Gods know I wouldn't keep a promise like that to some dead man.

Player: You're a kobold?
Deekin: Yes, Deekin very kobold, last Deekin look in mirror. Deekin not do that much, mirrors usually too high for Deekin.

Player: No reward is necessary.
Neeshka: Would you stop saying things like that!

Khelgar Ironfist: You'd best be careful, you simpering little father's girl, or you'll learn a thing or two about Ironfist honor and manhood!
Qara: Oh, you mean the two smallest things in all of Faerûn? From what I hear, no woman could learn about Ironfist manhood from you, Khelgar.
Khelgar Ironfist: Wh-what?! I'll have you know plenty of women know about Ironfist manhood! Plenty! They just all live up... around Waterdeep... or they'd tell you!

Neeshka: Well then, why don't you show us how it's done, firehair?
Qara: Firehair - imaginative and biting, with just the slightest hint of wit. Is that really the best your demon blood can squeeze out, tail for brains?
Neeshka: My brains are not in my tail.
Qara: So, are they right next to it? If so, might want to loosen the back of your pants a notch, because even with the hole, they're obviously not getting enough air.
Neeshka: Okay, explain that one to me.
Khelgar Ironfist: Well, she said your brains are next to your tail... which would imply that your brains are in your rear end. And that you breathe through your...

Grobnar: Now this is a whitethistle, can give you the runs, you know, and I made up a song for it, quite a catchy tune... Whitethistle, whitethistle, all in a row, in Neverwinter Woods they all grow...

Grobnar: I'm Grobnar Gnomehands, probably guessing where the last name comes from, don't you, well, tends to confuse most people.

Grobnar: ...and then, after I had welded the spring-mounted mechanical shield on my codpiece, I fired it, only to be thrown back almost thirty yards, right into a wall! Stung quite a bit, I'll say that much, but what I learned was...
[notices that the party members are all asleep]
Grobnar: Was...

Neeshka: Someone who doesn't play the odds doesn't last too long in my experience. Well, except me.

Orc #1: Maybe Hrulgat find troll? he need help if he find one.
Orc #2: You talk too much. Trolls might hear you. Be quiet.
[the player yells]
Orcs: Aaah! Troll! Run!

Player: Your mother would be so disappointed if she could see you now.
Lorne: What would you know of my mother?
Player: You don't keep your beard half as well as she keeps hers.

Player: Look, all this rambling doublespeak aside, just give me the short version, and I'll write it in my journal.

Sand: I think it is time everyone marched behind me, your new glorious leader.

Player: [to Grobnar] Tell me we did not come all this way for an invisible, non-existent kazoo that sounds a lot like you doing a phlegmy whistle.

Tholapsyx: Then I offer you this - a chance to live. In return, you will kill the fire giants and their king. <...> So this is your choice. Do we have a deal?
Sand: [quietly, to player] Just say yes, and we can run.

Neeshka: A balor demon. Be careful... one wrong answer, and we won't get to ask another question. Just stay calm, don't let him get to you.
Baalbisan: What is this thin-blooded thing I hear, its flesh reeking with the stench of the baatezu? Is it female? It must be - it is too weak to be otherwise.
Neeshka: "Weak?" Weak?! That's a laugh, saying that, while I'm out here and you're trapped inside that summoning circle, you half-witted tanar'ri hindlicker!
Sand: Next time, I would ask we leave the more impulsive members outside when we enter demon-caged labryrinths [sic] of death.

Guard #1: So, you think the Uthgardt are going to try to sack the town?
Guard #2: You already ask me that. I don't really care.
Guard #1: You don't care if a horde of barbarians invades Port Llast?
Guard #2: It'll be nice to do some fighting for once instead of standing around all day.
Guard #1: I hear that.

Harcourt: He [Lord Tavorick] urged me to go away, and said that I shouldn't return until I was... "younger and female", were his words, I believe.

Aldanon: I suppose we could see if she [Zhjaeve] tries to kill any of us, but that test has numerous procedural flaws in its execution... if you will pardon the semantics. She seemed reasonable enough when we spoke together in Crossroad Keep, but there was a foot of stone between us, which is notoriously hard for a blade to cut through to kill someone on the other side.

Grobnar: And we could look, at last, for the Wendersnaven!
Sand: Oh, Gods.
Grobnar: No, they're not gods. They're the Wendersnaven, they exist, even if you can't see them with the eye. Or touch them. They see all, know all, and have incredible powers - if they are on our side, we have a good chance of winning.
Sand': Oh, really? And how do we find something you can't see or touch and most likely exists in your head?

Sand: Omens aren't good by definition, Aldanon.
Aldanon: Oh, of course they are. Especially with a little milk and duskwood jam.

Aldanon: Good luck to you all! We will all most likely die if you fail, but try to keep that from your mind.

[if the player is a halfling, tiefling, or one of a few other races; Duncan is the brother of the player's foster father]
Player: I'm his nephew. I'm related.
Sand: Oh, really. I can see that. Thing is, last I heard Duncan was still a Realms man, so what part of the family tree did you fall out of?

Sal: "Demon's fire?" Sounds important.
Duncan: And that is why you are still cleaning tables and I own this place.

Duncan: You're right. Sorry I pointed out the fact that you were a charlatan, Sand.
Sand: And I didn't mean to bring up your excessive drinking, Duncan, and your long list of failed aspirations.

Neeshka: So I broke back into his [Leldon's] place, stole all the loot... every last copper, and left a note explaining to him how I got past each one of his traps.
Player: And what happened to all the money?
Neeshka: Well, you know.. a few coins here, a few coins there... it adds up. I have expenses... And stuff.

Callum: The orcs have a name for him - Katalmach. They say he attacks without warning - and without regard for his enemy's numbers.
Grobnar: Maybe this "kettle-head" person simply lacks basic math skills. You see, if we were to face three hundreds orcs, the odds.... well, if you carry the two... might be....

Dwarf: Who is this gnome?
Khelgar Ironfist: He's arrow bait. I'll tell you about it later.

Khelgar Ironfist: Anyone who wears them [Ironfist Gloves] gains the strength of ten, maybe twenty... it's how the clan earned the name Ironfist. With these, you could probably punch through a stone wall.
Player: Why would I want to punch a stone wall?

Neeshka: Bloodsucking fiends?
Khelgar Ironfist: Vampires, not you.

Judge: And you, Sand? Anything more you wish to add that you did not say in the first three hours?
Sand: Only that the dress the ambassador is wearing is clearly out of fashion, a blatant attempt to distract the court from the matter at hand, and is more appropriate for a Docks prostitute than a diplomatic envoy. Thank you.

[if the player is male]
Baalbisan: But it looks so female. How can I be certain?
Player: I suppose I could show you. Stand back - I'll need a lot of room.
Qara: ...
Baalbisan: It offers to reveal its parts, but my vision is not what it was. I doubt I could make out something so diminutive.
Neeshka: Well, from what I have heard, it is not that small at all.
Elanee: What did you say?
Neeshka: [quietly] Hey, I don't know, I'm just trying to help.

Sand: Sometimes if we could simply talk through these things, I wouldn't have the slightest chance of dying of fright ... or of soiling myself.

Player has joined the City Watch and is on patrol in the Docks

Trent Vendal: Look at this. An actual Watchman on patrol.
Neeshka: What? Wh-?
Khelgar Ironfist: He means us, girl.
Neeshka: Oh, Gods, I keep forgetting.

Khelgar Ironfist: Duncan, another round!
Duncan: Get your drink yourself dwarf, seeing as how you haven't paid for a single drop your entire stay here.
Khelgar Ironfist: Been wondering when you'd give in and grant me free reign over your kegs. Anyone else want anything?

Shandra Jerro: Mother said he would cradle me and sing to me, and I would pull out his beard hairs.
Khelgar Ironfist: Eh. Just keep your distance from me, lass.

Shandra Jerro: [to player] Hnh. Must be all that traveling with Khelgar that made you so good with kids.
Khelgar Ironfist: Probably so, I have a boyish charm, I can't deny it.

The Collector: What is the meaning of this?
Player: Your name is Ninsy?
The Collector: You have no right to call me by that name! I am the Collector to you.
Player: I want you to open the vault for me, Ninsy.

Player: I'm [name]. Who am I speaking to?
Hewe: Name's Hewe. This here's Gulver.
Gulver: Idiot! What'd you tell 'em our names for?
Hewe: Well, he told us his.

Sand: We all need to fade into the woodwork, or landwork or... whatever it is, as long as we hide!

Sand: I suggest you not try my patience any further than you have or I might accidentally fire a magic missile into your face.

Neeshka: [about Elanee] I don't know. She's got pointy-ears but doesn't smell of the Lower Planes, so she's probably not a tiefling. And she's too tall to be a halfling - and too thin. Plus, the hangs out with animals, so she's an elf.

Player: Can you do anything else?
Bevil Starling: I - I... can make soup.

Aldanon: Well, when Garius invited me to this Keep...
Sand: Kidnapped.

Tarmas: Count yourself fortunate for that. I once shared a wagon with a kobold bard. He rhymed "sadder" with "bladder" and sang fondly of his navel.

Qaggoth-Yeg: I can smell you, little lordling. I can scent your craven soul amidst the dust of your ancestors.
Player: And we can smell you, too. What do you want?

[black smoke rises up out of the ground]
Sand: Ah... this would be the "impending" part of our impending doom.

Bishop: Well then you'll be paying me another way. My bedroll's a little cold at night - I'm thinking you can fix that.
Neeshka: I could always set you on fire, Bishop. That'd solve two problems.

Daerred: Now, I know you didn't have any jobs for an adventurer last time in Neverwinter. But we searched the city for opportunities. After that we took to the road and I found an old lady and rescued a cat. We each got an apple.
Shandra Jerro: Well, if it had been the Captain [player] doing it, the cat would be lost, the tree burned down, and the old lady would be traveling with us now.

Player: Who are you?
Neeshka: Neeshka - Neeesh-ka, emphasis on the "Neee". Not many people get it right. Or try to.
Player: What do you mean?
Neeshka: Usually they call me "thief", "cursed one", "demon wench", "rat-child", "goat-girl", the list goes on. You'd think "Neeshka" wasn't that hard to remember.
Player: You mean you get those insults all the time?
Neeshka: It's not too bad, I mean, all those things are true.

Player: Neeshka - that's an odd name.
Neeshka: I'm told it means something in the Lower Planes, but since I don't get down there much... although, obviously, good old grandpa made a habit of coming up there for the night life, if you, uh, get my meaning.
Player: So you're a tiefling?
Neeshka: Yeah, but shhh - don't tell anyone, I wouldn't want anybody else to figure it out - I mean, aside from the horns. And the traces of demon blood.

Khelgar Ironfist: Well, there was a time when I was quick to judge others based on what little I'd heard. But... traveling with even the worst, slimiest, smelliest of tieflings and no-honor tree-worshipping elves has taught me some of them are all right.

Khelgar Ironfist: Just to make sure my eyes aren't lying to me - a huge suit of armor did smash through here, attack the githyanki - and us - then we drove it back to the portal?
Neeshka: No... no, that's about right.
Khelgar Ironfist: Good. Because if my drinking is catching up with me, I'm stopping right now.

Player: What do they want?
Aldanon: Why, my house, of course! As if I would ever sell it - ridiculous. I'd sooner give up my left eye. But my right annoys me at times, so that would be an easier sell.

Aldanon: First they tried offering me ridiculous sums of gold. What do I need with more gold?
Neeshka: I wish more people would give that question a little thought.
Aldanon: Next they tried making loud noises at night. But I need little sleep, so the only thing they accomplished was scaring away the nightbirds that raid my garden, for which I thanked them.

Githyanki: Zeeaire has foretold your coming, Kalach-Cha. She sent me to end you.
Player: I'm surprised you're talking to me. Most githyanki just attack.

Shandra Jerro: Rescuing me? I can rescue myself! Sometimes, when there's not too many lizardfolk. Or githyanki.

Bishop: So the farm girl's going to join our band? Good. We need someone to make up for the paladin - or at least to catch arrows if Grobnar's already dead.

Lord Nasher Alagondar: By every God and his mother, what a fool I was to ever sign anything bearing Luskan's seal.

Sir Nevalle: I've scraped things from my boot that I respect more than Luskan.

Sir Nevalle: Know that if you are sent to Luskan, you will be killed.
Player: Tell me something I don't know.

Sand: Well, at best, they will put you on trial - or what seems to be one, then execute you. At worst, they will dispense with the courtroom mockery and execute you as soon as you step within the gate. And when I say "execute," do not think it will be one clean chop of a headman's axe... Luskans have all sorts of inventive ways for executing prisoners that is not best to describe on a full stomach.

Sir Nevalle: Also, Sand here... as much as I hate to admit it... may be able to spot something. He has a talent for seeing what's out of place.
Sand: Careful, lest I blush from all these compliments.
Sir Nevalle: That wasn't a compliment, Sand. Usually if something's out of place, you're suspiciously close by.

Elgun: Look, it's obvious you know I wasn't there. What do you want from me?
Player: Why did you say you were there?
Elgun: Free ale and the attention of women, of course. You think someone like me could get that otherwise?
Player: Tell me what actually happened.
Elgun: I'd heard there was a dryad in the Duskwood, so I figured... well, you know how dryads are. With men, I mean.
Shandra Jerro: Oh, gods. How predictable.
Grobnar: What? What does he mean?
Elanee: I think dryad legends to more to get men lost in the woods than dryads themselves.
Grobnar: What are you all talking about? You're making no sense.
Shandra Jerro: He went in there to try and..uh, sneak some kisses, Grobnar.
Grobnar: Ooooooooooooh, I see.

Sand: The sooner I put together these pieces, the sooner I... hmmm.

Cain Lethellon: And what do you call that then, love? "Ode to an Angry Banshee Giving Birth"?
Challenger #1: Yeah, well, what was your song? "Ode to a... um... lute player who's not that good"?
Challenger #2: I... really must be off. It's getting late and my mom... no! I mean, my wife, my wife will be looking for me. Yes. Excuse me.
Cain Lethellon: Well, ladies and gents, I don't know what to tell you exactly. You were promised a battle of bards, instead you've had a massacre of instruments. And here, I thought the twelfth challenger might have something different to offer.

Captain Ballard: Lord Nasher is concerned about m'lord's well-being, in light of the recent deaths of m'lord's associates.
Lord Cyran Tavorick: Bah! If Nasher cared about m'lord's well being, he'd buy me a potion of youth. Failing that, he'd send me a harem. Eighty-four girls, one for each of my years. Yes? Maybe?

Lord Cyran Tavorick: Nice enough fellow, Nasher. Seems to like sitting on that throne of his. Ancestor of mine made that throne, and you know where it got him? Exiled to Icewind Dale. Silly fool thought he'd sign his initials on the bottom.

Captain Ballard: Lord Tavorick. Good to see you alive.
Lord Cyran Tavorick: Even better to be so, Captain.

Master Veedle: You don't have to worry about rebuilding all of it - some accommodations will be built by people that come to live here. The inn, for example, is already operational. Naturally.

Georg Redfell: So the great hero returns - been watching out for danger like I said? And what about that angry swamp elf? See it yet?
Elanee: Swamp elf?
Georg Redfell: Ah, I see you have - look at her. She looks a little smaller than I expected, though, for a giant. Looks close enough, I suppose.
Elanee: [sarcastic] Ooooooh... the giant swamp elf. Yes, obviously you haven't heard. It still lives, constantly growing, constantly feeding. Of course, now that it's forced to range farther and farther... well, I imagine it will be here soon enough.
Georg Redfell: Oh. We'll be careful, then.

[Kistrel the spider eats the insect collection]
Neeshka: Gods, it's like watching Khelgar eat. Ewwww.

[the player agreed to befriend Kistrel the spider]
Shandra Jerro: I cannot believe we're doing this.
Neeshka: We let Khelgar tag along, didn't we?

Sir Nevalle: Milord, there are certain rites for inducting knights that must b-
Lord Nasher Alagondar: Nevalle, I knighted you at Redfallow's Watch in the mud with orcs surrounding us. Ceremonies can wait.

[if the player assigns Sand to lead the troops during the bridge assault]
Sand: Maybe when we're done we can send them to beat up Nevalle, just for fun.

Sand: So, quiet enough for you? I mean, now that Khelgar is done ranting - I heard it from several streets away. Actually helped me find this place.

Shandra Jerro: Gods, Sand, you hold your nose so high it's a wonder you don't wear your hat on it.

Grobnar: No one really knows how big the Wendersnaven are. They could be thousands of Khelgars high!
Khelgar Ironfist: What did I say 'bout usin' me as a unit of measurement?!
Grobnar: Er, right, several Neeshkas high.

Elanee: This place feels... unnatural, the wood and stone, it's as if they've been silenced.
Neeshka: I wish you'd both be silent. This whole trip has been nothing but one constant whine from the both of you. [imitates Khelgar] "Oohh me stomach! This boat rocks like a baby cradle!" [imitates Elanee] "This water is unnatural and deep! Nothing like the swamp of dead people I grew up in!"

Player: Do you have a problem with Qara?
Sand: Nope. definitely not. Not going to complain about a person standing right next to me...

Bevil: I've heard some of the things you've done - and even if they're as blown out of proportion as one of Georg's tall tales... Well, you got to be a little not right in the head to dive into those odds.

Khelgar Ironfist: By Tyr's right buttock!

Sand: I derive pleasure from clarification.

Khelgar Ironfist: You skinny....bull.
Neeshka: That doesn't even make sense.

Elanee: I think our leader will make a fine parent.
Player: Is that an offer?

Elanee: Instead of shadowing you, I would walk with you...
Khelgar Ironfist: With a frame like that, you'll probably blow away in the wind.
Neeshka: Oh, don't be jealous, barrel-boy.
Khelgar Ironfist: Jealous? Of an elf? and a tree-worshipper at that!
Elanee: I think you'll find tree-worshippers rare these days, dwarf, so do not take them lightly.
Neeshka: With a belly like that, I don't think Khelgar takes anything lightly.

Neeshka: Anyway - about this mess - I guess the Watch will clean this bodies up. Or maybe there'll be a rain or something!

Neeshka: I agree with Ammon Jerro. He's smart about these things... well, except about the tattoo aesthetic.

Teelah: Thank you, Captain! A year at the Mask, and I've learned to entertain almost any crowd, no matter their mood. Rustic jigs, elven interpretive dance, gnomish waltz... I even know a dwarven dance. It takes a false beard, though, and hardly any clothes. Well, you're supposed to wear the beard in place of clothes, and twirl it about provocatively... Maybe... you shouldn't tell anyone that I know that dance, actually.

Player: Very well, I could use someone as a pack mule.
Grobnar: Oh, I was turned into one once. But eventually I came back to normal.

Grishnak: You're a strange lookin' group. What'dya want?
Player: ...says the half-orc pirate.

Khulmar Ironfist: Very well, Khelgar, may stone shield you from the sky and ale always be at your hand... but not too much ale, you know how you get after the twelfth tankard.

Khelgar Ironfist: We'll put those lizards in their place, with fist or...fist. Either way, they're getting some fist!

Captain Brelaina: Get to the point, if we let her go, is she going to try to kill us or not?
Aldanon: I'm not sure. We could always try the experimental approach to find out, but that method has some theoretical and practical complications.

Grobnar: I play songs. Write songs. Build things. Repair things. Pick things. Plant things. Tinker with things until they're fixed... or, well, uh, need fixing. But that's rare. Sort of.

Sir Nevalle: Why Captain, don't we all live to serve Neverwinter?
Sand: Under penalty of death.

Georg Redfell: So the great hero returns - been watching out for danger like I said? And what about that angry swamp elf? See it yet?
Sand: Swamp Elf?
Georg Redfell: I see you have! He's a little smaller than I expected.
Sand: [to player] And I thought you were the only fool to come out of West Harbor. But here we are and already this fellow proves me wrong.

Georg Redfell: Hnh. Looks like you picked up an admirer. Well met there, boy. You sweep her off your seat from some seedy tavern, did you?
Bishop: Oh, yeah, she wasn't even conscious when we were married.
Casavir: Mind your tongue, Bishop.
Bishop: As long as she's here to do it for me? Come now.
Georg Redfell: Well put, well put.

Shandra Jerro: Trust me, I see enough of you as it is, and as much as Elanee may like the way you smell, I don't.

Khelgar Ironfist: Wh-what the hells is this? First, the demon, now this willow-thin slip of an elf? Let's invite all the realms! Make a grand army, tromping through the wilderness! "Enemies, come get us! Here we arrre!"

[Casavir and his group appear and attack the orcs that ambushed the player's party]
Khelgar Ironfist: Wh-? Hey! Those are our orcs!

[Brelaina's response varies somewhat depending on the race and class of the player.]

Player: Won't I be recognized? I'm sure any thieves from the Docks will recognize me on sight.
Captain Brelaina: I do not know if you have heard the descriptions of you being passed around the Docks, but suffice to say that no one will recognize you when all they seem to know of your appearance is "a holy warrior, a disciple of faith who is surrounded by a light so bright, it burns the eyes."

Khelgar Ironfist: Maybe we should put these two fools in a room with Aldanon.
Sand: This chattering madness is something I would like to subject Grobnar to, if only to make him understand what it's like to listen to him.

Player: Where shall that meeting take place?
Sand: Someplace in the middle of nowhere, no doubt.
Grobnar: Is there really such a place?
Sand: Oh yes, Grobnar, and it's between your ears.

Zinn: I'm Zinn, the pretty lady to my right is Niyra, the elf is Shahra, and the gnome in the dress is Oyo.
Oyo: It's a robe, you bastard.

[Aldanon awakens in a prison cell]
Aldanon: What happened to my home? How did my manor get so... dark? And cold. I'll have to ask my assistant to start the fire at once... I say, some light, please! This door is odd. I don't remember having this placed in my home, either. I say - anyone! This door is stuck!

Deekin: Deekin not write this one. But Deekin sing it anyway. [sings]
I like gnomes,
So dumb and fat,
Fat and dumb
In burrows like moles
Shoot 'em full of arrows
Put 'em on a stick
That's why I like gnomes.
Grobnar: My word. Just hearing that gives me the shivers.
Qara: I'll bet that could have shattered a castle wall.
Sand: Well, that cleared my sinuses.
Shandra Jerro: How... pleasant. Now Grobnar, I'm sure he didn't m...
Grobnar: I say, this is... genius. The tone, the tempo. You can almost feel the angst and pain of the gnomes as they are filled with arrows... and put on sticks. And the theme of the piece... now, that is tragedy, in its deepest, most primal form. And the climax, the uplifting portion, where the affirmation of liking gnomes is confirmed... And then brought full circle with the physical and emotional double meaning of them being in the mind and in the stomach. Amazing. I say, traveling to Neverwinter with you all has really been broadening my horizons - who would have thought I'd get to meet a kobold author and playwright!

Bishop: That's as comforting as leaving the village idiot in charge of a trebuchet.
Grobnar: Oh, come now, that's hardly a proper analogy. It's more like leaving the village idiot in charge of a huge, savage, nearly-unstoppable wolf who can only understand simple commands like "kill," or "stop killing" or "oh no, put both halves of that man down this instant!" But really, this blade golem is such a gentle, unassuming creature... it would never do something so horrible, would you, Construct? Wooould you?

Black Garius: The power you seek is here... and I can allow you to rectify certain... inequities.
Sand: Yes, well, as tempting as the offer to become one of the many shadow reavers we have already slain is, I shall pass. Not much future, you see - for you or them.

Lord Nasher: (in reference to Aldanon seeking the way to reach the King of Shadows stronghold) Half the task will be him finding it and the second task will be trying to understand it when he tries to explain it.

Bishop: (to you) How many enemies do you have, anyway? There's almost more than I can count.
Elanee: There's a surprise.

Elanee: Let us promise to speak no more until the morrow, and we shall enjoy what brief time we have together.

Ammon: To think you believed me to be our mutual enemy... the irony runs deep, indeed.

Bishop: If you aren't willing to kill for it, how important can it be?"

Grobnar: Well, just as I suspected... I couldn't see it because it's invisible.

Player: Ok, you can travel with us.
Grobnar: Excellent. Oh, you won't regret this. I mean, too many times."

Grobnar: Why... that little werewolf has the same name as the gnome girl we met outside. What a coincidence!

Khelgar: They're monks, aye. Crazy water-drinking fools. Hmmmph. Hope drinking water isn't what makes them fight like that.

Hagen: There she is. She's the one who took my money.
Neeshka: It is so strange to hear that not directed at me.

Neeshka: What are we standing around for? We beat Garius and his wizards... come on, let's search the bodies.

Sand: Seems my exceptional wit and cunning instinct for verbal duels has landed me in trouble yet again.
Last modified on 25 May 2013, at 05:10