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Quote by Whitney Gardner

“I wish people didn’t call them that. Trolls… They aren’t mythical creatures. You can’t look up how to defeat them in the Monster Manual. There are no critical hits, no saving rolls. They aren’t make-believe. They’re real. And they’re assholes.”

Quote by Whitney Gardner

Book:Chaotic Good
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Chaotic Good

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Whitney Gardner

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“The Eternal was not defeated. The evil was not winning against him. He was still in control. ‘Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further.’ Like the master creator that he was, he knew how this tale would unroll. The perfect ending was not only thought of; it was coming. Nothing could change it. The villains could not surprise him by destroying a hero or putting up a greater fight than he expected. The story would draw to a close at the right time, and the climax was already a guaranteed victory. The Eternal was not crushed or even slightly inconvenienced. He was winning. The evil might think it was successful, but its downfall was already irreversible. The Almighty had already won the victory.”

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Book:A Noble Comfort: A Blue Bird Retelling
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“Shank off, you faithless skiv!” “Then say my name,” Taein said as he rose and adjusted his coat. “You know exactly who I am.” “You’re the Unkillable Kid—” The mugger said through a froth of blood, his squirming growing weaker. Taein picked him up by the lapels and drew the mugger’s face so close he could see the broken blood vessels in his eyes. “Say. My. Name.” “Taein,” Big said, and he burst into tears. And Taein he was, after all. He was the prince of purloining, scourge of the streets, survivor against all natural odds, reckless to the point of delusion. He was Taein, survivor of the BlackBlades, the Unkillable Kid himself, (or unkillable as far as he knew, at least), and if a good thrashing was all that could beat back the numbness anymore, even just for a few adrenaline-soaked moments, so be it. It was better to feel anything other than his usual state of abysmal emptiness—even pain—because that emptiness haunted him like a starving child, dogging his heels every waking minute, leaching through his very bloodstream as a hard frost crawls along a windowpane. He was Taein—terror of thieves, conductor of chaos, sweetheart of spite—and if brushing hands with death was all that could shake him halfway to life anymore, so be it.”

Dark FantasyDark HumorEpic FantasyGrimdarkChaotic GoodGrimdark Humor
Book:Prince of Glass: Remastered
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