Dying a thousand deaths in my head to protect you is better than losing you one time in the flesh.'~ Gustaf Ræliksen.

Love can give you such happiness, then can break the very heart it filled, leaving a hole that can never be fixed or protected by any armour.

The black of the ocean waves was the color of the sorrow in my breast, a sorrow that was never far away and always visible.

Lord help her, but she was instantly drawn to his scent - a mixture of smoke and salt and mystery - as well as his strength. The pulse of his heart, the hum of blood through his veins, the aura of power and danger surrounding him.

His voice was reassuring and calm, his expression soft, his eyes brighter than ever. Oh Ahura Mazda, she’d never wanted any man so intently in all her life. She ached to have him touch her, kiss her, taste her. And Ivar did as she wished. He put her hand to his nose to smell her skin, kissed her inner wrist to taste her, his lips lingered over her racing pulse. Finally, it was confirmed in actions and direct words, spoken aloud and repeated seven times… She felt the rush of desire ripping through her body, an intense sensation of warmth upon her skin, the blissful waves of uneasiness swamped through her, tingling her nerves.

If my brother, Dægan, was still alive to herald this moment, I know he would have something poetically moving to say. But where I lack in speech, I make up for in determination. Let my actions speak for themselves, for I will have my vengeance. As the last living son of Rælik, I will defend my father’s honor and uphold his noble name. Rally the men for council—my Æsa needs me.”~ Gustaf Ræliksen.

I did not choose to be a monster—a shell of a man—half-human, half-fiend. I am a tiefling. I am what I am.

As long as it makes you happy. For the rest of my life, I will do whatever it takes to ensure it. As my wife, you will not want for anything. What you desire, I will provide.

A port arrival makes you feel so free ...To realize what it is to be a free man, with a world before him;.

...It was not considered right for a man not to drink, although drink was a dangerous thing. On the contrary, not to drink would have been thought a mark of cowardice and of incapacity for self-control. A man was expected even to get drunk if necessary, and to keep his tongue and his temper no matter how much he drank. The strong character would only become more cautious and more silent under the influence of drink; the weak man would immediately show his weakness. I am told the curious fact that in the English army at the present day officers are expected to act very much after the teaching of the old Norse poet; a man is expected to be able on occasion to drink a considerable amount of wine or spirits without showing the effects of it, either in his conduct or in his speech. 'Drink thy share of mead; speak fair or not at all' - that was the old text, and a very sensible one in its way.