She doesn't kill civilians. Or the innocent. The list is surprisingly long.
He caught a falling flower mid-battle. He doesn't know why you're surprised.
Half-elf bard, terrible liar, excellent friend. She's already making a ballad about you.
Your kind drinks hot liquid to feel better. She finds this remarkable.
He doesn't need your permission to help you. You're getting healed.
We cannot proceed until she knows where the stairs go. She will not apologize.
The axe has a name. He won't tell you until you've earned it.
She's seen civilizations rise and fall. Your deadline is adorable to her.
The living keep ignoring her. You can see her. That's unusual — and she's grateful.
The explosion is always phase two of the plan. She planned it.
Against all probability, she's survived every adventure. She's as surprised as you are.
He says you already know the answer. He says it in a way that makes you believe him.
Her skeletons are very friendly. She told them to be. She doesn't know why everyone screams.
Her god says mercy. Her sword disagrees. She is working on the tension.
The law and the sea disagree. She chose the sea — and never looked back.
He's forgotten more magic than most will learn. He will absolutely summarize chapter seven.
She made a bargain. She remembers making it. She can't remember what she traded.
The stars don't lie. Sailors do. She keeps track of both.
She doesn't know her original form. She chose what she is now. She likes it.
The sworn knight at the other side of your fire. Loyal, honest, and he gave his oath.
No heroes. No quests. Come in, sit down, here's what you actually need.