Metal Mage 11 Quotes

“Hoooold up,” I mumbled, and I whipped my head around as I registered the fully gilded four-post bed, the fur-trimmed, velvet robe in the corner, and three polished crowns mounted on the mantelpiece. “Is this Temin’s bedchamber?” “Mm-hmm,” Nulena giggled against my neck, and I abruptly pulled her off me. “We can’t fuck in the king’s private quarters,” I hissed. “Why not?” I furrowed my brow as she smirked up at me, and maybe it was the Rosh, but I just had no rebuttal to that. I tried my damndest, though, while I considered the plush carpet under my boots and the stained-glass windows, but the bed was twice as big as any I’d ever seen, and the dense black hide draped over the blankets practically begged to have Nulena thrown onto it. “Yeah, okay,” I decided”
― Éric Vall, Metal Mage 11

“the king laughed. “You could ask her anything, and she’ll know the answer. Watch. Baroness, who is the wealthiest amongst the nobles at this very moment?” “Lord Allen,” the Baroness chuckled. “And who is the most well connected?” Temin asked with a drunken grin. “Myself, of course,” she replied. “What about the most likely to be killed?” the king chuckled, but the Baroness looked less amused. “Mason Flynt.” Everyone sobered a little as they looked my way, but I couldn’t help laughing. “Damn straight. How about the most likely to be killed by me?” The Baroness calmly sipped her Rosh, but after a moment, she eyed me with a smirk. “That is a question I cannot answer,” she admitted. “Your actions are difficult to predict.” “Are they, though?” I asked with a roguish grin. “I thought I was sooo predictable. I have this annoying habit of protecting civilians at all costs.” Temin snorted through his chicken wing, and the Baroness blushed under my gaze. “True,” she allowed, “but your morals are famously partial. Your dedication to protecting others ceases where any danger to the ones you love begins. This complicates matters exceedingly.” I furrowed my brow as Nulena looked away and finished her drink, but I had too much Rosh in me to try and reason my way through her statement.”
― Éric Vall, Metal Mage 11

“Temin, we should get these guys dueling,” I decided. “All of them. Pick your fighter. Winner gets Rosh. Loser … keeps trying until he gets Rosh. Wings for everyone. This is happening.”
― Éric Vall, Metal Mage 11

“You’ll see,” I assured him as we headed for the door. Then I cupped my hands around my lips to holler to my women down the hall. “Have fun killing shit!”
― Éric Vall, Metal Mage 11

“But he’s the best leatherworker in Serin,” Cayla insisted, “and he’s so honored to be crafting your holsters. I told him you greatly appreciated his efforts, and he was so flustered, he spilled half a shelf of sheaths on the ground. I helped him clean it all up, though, and then he posted a beautiful, hand-soldered sign in his front window that says ‘Personal Craftsman to the Honorable Baron Flynt.’” Now, I turned around. “He’s not my personal craftsman,” I clarified, “he’s yours, and I don’t know that I like--” “Mason, he’s eighty-three years old and has seventeen great grandchildren running around his shop,” Cayla informed me, and any irritation I had just poofed into dust. “Oh,” I replied as my women giggled. “Well, then Hugo’s my personal craftsman. But I don’t really think I need a whip.”
― Éric Vall, Metal Mage 11

“I still stayed there staring as three possessed ogres beat their way straight through the stone walls. “Haragh,” I muttered, “these guys are possessed as hell.” “Yeah, I’d say so,” the half-ogre agreed as an entire wall keeled over and crashed into the street.”
― Éric Vall, Metal Mage 11

“With any luck, I’d be the proud father of a whole slew of murderous mages within the year, but they’d be cute, not like the scary possessed versions. Strictly cute murderers, very much like some of their mamas, and maybe a few of the babies would have silver eyes like me.”
― Éric Vall, Metal Mage 11