30 replies to this topic

[darlarosa]

I'd have to agree with Imoen though lol

[darlarosa]

"touch me not! you are unclean"

[Rastor]

I dont remember the exact wquote, but when the PC gets angry at PPortalbenderwinden and threatens to 'shove a blunt object rougly the size of elminster AND his hat' up his ass or something like that.

"Ok, I've just about had my FILL of riddle asking, quest assigning, insult throwing, pun hurling, hostage taking, iron mongering, smart arsed fools, freaks, and felons that continually test my will, mettle, strength, intelligence, and most of all, patience! If you've got a straight answer ANYWHERE in that bent little head of yours, I want to hear it pretty damn quick or I'm going to take a large blunt object roughly the size of Elminster AND his hat, and stuff it lengthwise into a crevice of your being so seldom seen that even the denizens of the nine hells themselves wouldn't touch it with a twenty-foot rusty halberd! Have I MADE myself perfectly CLEAR?!"

I don't remember the quote, but there was one when Imoen made a pass at Keldorn.

[Cal Jones]

Ah, well she was pretending too, and getting him all flustered while she stole his ring!

Some of Sarevok's ill-tempered quotes are pretty amusing, especially the one he has with Minsc which starts "turn your hamster's gaze away" or somesuch. It's the "I'm still in hell, aren't I?" bit that makes me laugh.

That and Cernd's "a bird in the hand, gathers no moss, or somesuch."

There are lots of great insults, as well. I'm particlarly fond of Desharik's little outburst at his mistress, "Madame, you are a ravening ditch pig!" before chunking her with his cutlass. Korgan's exchange with his former crew atop the Copper Coronet is pretty funny, too.

[Soulfire]

One has lots of time for reflection while waiting for the ENDLESS WAVES OF BAD DOGGIE WEREWOLF MONSTERS THAT CHEW YOUR TOES WHILE YOU SLEEP!!

Dradeel: Escape! Escape I will! No kennel will hold what is not doggy!
Dradeel: Freedom! Freed... Bloody hell!

But my favourite quote? Charname's journal entries when they're told to kill the rats in the barn.

"Reevor has once again pressed me into service in his storehouse. All reports suggest that our feline forces have turned traitor and that the rats are on the offensive. It appears that I am our last hope in the face of such an awesome display of power. Farewell, dear Journal? Farewell.

Mental Note: Don?t join the armed forces. They never inform you of the full danger when you enter and they always pay you squat when you leave? Reevor gave me all of five gold pieces for putting my life on the line in there? Isn?t there a Candlekeep People?s Revolutionary Front I can join, somewhere???

[Gabrielle]

Who you are, know not I.

I am happy not, no I'm not.

Happy I am, yes I am.

[Alain]

"Despair, sighted, for death is thy familiar" - Unseeing Eye.

It's a bit cheesy, but I love it.

Edited by Alain, 08 July 2008 - 11:35 PM.

[Lythari]

"Step back, citizen!" or however sounds in english this quote of amnian soldiers in Nashkel when you talk to them. I tend to specially sleep on the Nashkel's street to hear amnian soldier coming with this quote.

Besides that, I like Sarevok's quotes, especially "I'm sorry that you feel that way old man" and "Face ME! FACE THE NEW LORD OF MURDER!".

Edited by Lythari, 08 July 2008 - 11:58 PM.

[Crazee]

I'm going to have to do the ones I always do, aren't I? It's alright, because I never get tired of reading them through.

Here's the one I miswrote earlier:

Icharyd: ...flesh here...enough to make me...whole again...
Protagonist: You'll taste this flesh over my dead body! Wait a minute...

And everyone's favourite:

Imoen: So, Valygar ...word on the street is that ya killed your parents. Is that true? Sounds pretty horrid, if ya ask me.
Valygar: You consider *this* acceptable casual conversation? Just walk up and ask someone if they killed their parents?
Imoen: Would you prefer to let the rumor mill have its way?
Valygar: I could care less what the people have to say about me. People have talked about my family all my life.
Imoen: Well, that?s a pretty sour attitude. You know, they say your face freezes like that.
Valygar: For someone who supposedly has her soul tainted by the evil of a dead god, you remind me considerably of a chipmunk with a sugar high and a death wish.
Imoen: Ooo! Funny! That?s good!
Valygar: I try my best.

What a guy:

Protagonist: So what are you going to do now?
Spectator: Oh, you know. Find the nearest hive. Check out the ladies. The usual. You?
Protagonist: Fighting for my life. The usual.

And I'm going off Jan, meself, but this one is a favourite:

Mazzy: All of the evil in the world cannot keep one from admiring the beauty of the earth.
Jan: Very true, lassie. You must work with potatoes.
Mazzy: How might one make that assumption?
Jan: Hmm? Oh, I thought it was obvious. Never had you pegged for a slow one, but you never can tell. Allow me to spell it out ... you see, about 15 years ago I was employed by a mage of no small caliber. Golodon the unmanned was his name. Good teeth. Nice smell. Vicious streak a mile wide.
Mazzy: This is not making any sense, Jan.
Jan: He couldn?t have any children, course. Nasty cone of cold accident, you see. Regardless, his tower wasn?t far from Athkatla and I managed to gain employment with the old elf for a while. Mondays were particularly amusing. He would start the day off by summoning an imp. He?d usually spend 3 or 4 hours making it run around the room barking like a dog. But, as it was with Golodon, he soon tired of the sport. He had a beautiful mastiff named Buffy. Her diet consisted almost entirely of imps. Imp doesn?t taste half-bad when it?s fried with a bit of garlic and butter. Goes well with turnips, too.
Mazzy: What, pray tell, does this have to do with the presumption that I work with potatoes?
Jan: Oh, right. So anyway, Golodon?s ex-wife lived no more than 200 paces away from the mage?s tower. My primary job was poisoning her food, though occasionally I?d have to clean up Buffy?s excrement. She managed to build quite the resistance to mandrake. Golodon?s ex-wife that is, not the dog. It was truly a magical time in my life. I haven?t been as happy poisoning somebody since then. I was also, of course, poisoning Golodon on his ex-wife?s behalf. She did pay handsomely. Word has it that Golodon has finally kicked the bucket, if you get my drift. Died of malaria complicated by a fireball down his throat. Apparently, Golodon?s old nemesis returned. Dradu or Dradeen or some such name. The old bastard would occasionally mention this enemy when he was particularly drunk. The two of them had stolen some valuable artifacts from the gibbering twelve. Golodon blackjacked poor Dradunce and split with the magic. He later realized that he should have killed Dreedle and, cold-hearted fool that he was, sent assassins to finish the job. Drafeel disappeared, though his body was never found. It worried Golodon to no end.
Mazzy: Perhaps we should be concentrating on our journey, good gnome.
Jan: I can?t find it in my heart to feel sorry for him. He did fire me after all. Do you know why?
Mazzy: I neither know nor care.
Jan: That was a bit rude. I take my potato comment back, missy!
Mazzy: Where in the heavens did this potato remark arise in the first place?
Jan: I don?t know if I?m talking to you anymore.
Mazzy: Fine, fine! I?d rather not hear the story anyway.
Jan: If you must know, it was during my time as a mobile turnip vendor.
Mazzy: Jan, though I respect you, I must say that you are quite infuriating. Please desist, we have things to accomplish.
Jan: Twice a week I?d head out to the country to pick up my product. The turnip fields were owned by my Uncle Scratchy. Interesting fellow, by the way. Remind me to tell you about him some time.
Mazzy: Are you even listening to me?
Jan: Each trip I made, I would stop to talk to the hafling lass that worked in Uncle Scratchy?s potato operation. The girl had had a very difficult life. She lost her parents to an orc attack when she was just a girl. She?d been a slave for the foul beasts until Aunt Petunia freed her. The girl told me that, now matter how much evil she saw or had been inflicted upon her, the simple pleasure of honest work and the feel of the earth beneath her feet always reminded her of how lucky she really was. Her outlook was not unlike your own, dear Mazzy.
Mazzy: A noble tale in the end, Jan, though I?m continually puzzled by your need to inflict 20 minutes of inane yarns on your listeners before getting to the point.
Jan: And that, lassie, is why you are not a consummate tale-spinner. Don?t worry, I?ll teach you yet.

[darlarosa]

Lilarcor has the right idea!!!

Lilarcor: What's my status? Since when do you care about me unless I'm impaled in something's guts? Oh well, fine, let me think for a minute... Well, as a matter of fact I would like to register a complaint. I want to kill a dragon. Right now. Go find one and kill it. That would be SO cool.
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Lilarcor: My brother's a +12 Hackmaster!

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Lilarcor: Hands up, kiddies, who wants to die?

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Lilarcor: Advice, eh? Well, besides working a little on your swordsmanship. Besides that, I'd have to think. Hmmm... find someone rich, and kill them. Find someone richer, and kill them, too! Hack and slash you way to fortune! Woo-hoo!

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Aerie: I have a question for you, Imoen... you have the taint of Bhaal within you? Does this mean you will turn into the Slayer as well?
Imoen: I certainly hope not. I... I've been thinking more and more lately about that, myself, though.
Aerie: It must be an awful feeling. I cannot imagine how Protagonist deals with it.
Imoen: Yeah... s/he's been dealing with it longer, too. Sometimes, when it's quiet... I can hear the taint in my heart whispering to me. It says awful things and I almost want to scream to shut them out.
Aerie: [gasp!] You... you haven't done anything that it's said, have you?
Imoen: Well... other than that time I got up in the middle of the night to snatch a bag of cinnamon cookies, heck no.
Aerie: Oh, goo-... what? Cinnamon cookies?
Imoen: Ha ha! Oh, come on, Aerie! Lighten up, willya? I'll tell ya what, if I have any desires to murder you in the middle of the night, you'll be the first to know, okay?
Aerie: That's not very funny, Imoen. Protagonist never makes fun of his/her condition that way.
Protagonist: Well, it's been so much easier when I discovered all the Slayer really wants is a sandwich...
Aerie: Oh, fine. Everyone seems determined to make fun of me. I'll stand back here, thank you.

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[Daulmakan]

Protagonist: So what are you going to do now?
Spectator: Oh, you know. Find the nearest hive. Check out the ladies. The usual. You?
Protagonist: Fighting for my life. The usual.

I always answer that with 'the same'.