- You filth! I’ll send you back to your people in PIECES!
- I’ve grown used to Lord Turlan sending fluff-cheeked boys to face adults, armed with toys when only the tools of war will save them. But I did not expect your snivelling, cringing master to send a pompous, cowardly popinjay to challenge me when a brave and honest opponent might have earned my mercy in defeat. Contempt doesn’t begin to describe how I feel for both him and you as you start on your short path to death.
- Your foe spits out a gobbet of phlegm and blood, screaming, “I shall stamp you down as I’d stamp a mouse!”
- The monster’s roar resounds through the air, echoing off walls and ear-drums before settling in your heart….
- Bring some friends, I’ll wait.
- I’ve got muscles in places you’ve never even heard of!
- You call that a sword? That’s not a sword – THIS is a sword!
- Come and fight me you miserable son of a whore.
- I’ll bet your mother was poultry, you little chicken.
- You filth! I’ll send you back to your people in PIECES!
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