"You can take him," Laurean scoffed. "For a price. I'm not letting a construct as complex as a homunculus go for free."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
"You wouldn't dare." He wrinkled his nose. "Murder is punishable by death in this region."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
He muttered a swift, simple deflector spell and the attack ricocheted.
(Do try not to kill him though)
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
Laurean did his best to deflect them but a couple hit him hard and he let out a shuddering groan, eyes rolling back in his head.
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
As soon as the old man stopped moving, Kivvien put away his wand, immediately moving to search the room for his missing journal, and Hieronymus, who had to be somewhere nearby.
Hieronymus had stopped writing, eyes darting toward the door. He stayed still though, crouched under the bed.
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
Kivvien crouched down and checked under the bed after giving most of the room a once-over. And there he was. "Hieronymus..." he didn't know what to say.
Hieronymus was trembling, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, sir," he said shakily. "I'm sorry, he told me to and I had to do what he says, is he dead? Did you kill him? Oh my gods..."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
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