Curran is the Beast Lord. Tremble.

After I chased the werewolf and the vampire out of my office, I changed my clothes.

Voshak's hair, a pale blond braid, which he bleached, was his trademark. It made him memorable. That's how the slavers operated. They adopted costumes and personas, trying to make themselves larger-than-life and hoping to inspire fear. They counted on that fear. One could fight a man, but nobody could fight a nightmare.

Why couldn't she have gotten another Edger or some dimwit from the Broken for a passenger? No, she got Lord Leather Pants here.

If the sky could dream, it would dream of dragons.

I've read your summary." "And?" "It's not incompetent." Be still, my heart, so I don't faint from such faint phrase. "Did you expect it to be written in crayon?

When you want to take over a city, you have to destroy the illusion of safety it provides. You have to hit the large well-protected establishments, find the powerful people who run them and are viewed as invincible, and kill them. You want to destroy the morale first. Once the people's resolve is gone and everyone is scared for their own skin, the city is yours.