Like moons make swell and wane the nescient seas, so too the sky-strewn gods ordain the tidal fates of mortal days. And yet - a notion born in lonely hours - come ebb, come flow, come all that is beyond the breadth of our dominion: be a moon unto yourself. Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will.

You could've asked me to do the same - to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t. And I’m grateful.

Kiss my arse. I'm the Lord of Murder - I'll show you why.

Let's see. I hail from Waterdeep, the City of Splendours. I'm a wizard of considerable acclaim and scholar of exceptional accomplishment. I have a cat, a library and a weakness for a good glass of wine. And if the mood takes me I'm known to try my hand at poetry.

Findal: "Oh, thank you, thank you. I thought I was going to die down here."
Player: "Don't thank me yet. I'm here to finish what they started."