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“Would you like to go on a suicide mission?” she asked instead. He smiled. It was the first genuine smile she’d seen all day. “I would be honored,” he said.
Once papers were signed, people seemed to give up. It was a strange sort of magic.
He’s got a heart of gold…cold, metallic, and made of money.
“Do you believe in miracles, paladin?”
Mules were worse. Mules were like horses who could plan.
Caliban, however, took the view that when something impossible was going on, it was best to deal with it as you found it, and not stand around claiming it wasn’t happening.
It occurred to Caliban that he had been nattering about his oath to protect the weak to a woman who had apparently just tracked them through the woods, found their weapons, climbed up the outside of the hut carrying said weapons, dropped fifteen feet through a hole in the ceiling onto a shaman, saving his life and possibly his soul in the process, and then proceeded to fight and dispatch a stag-man twice her size. My god. I am an arrogant jackass.
