Vox Machina Quotes

It's hard to fight a monster beloved by all.

She understood the wilds, while he thrived in city streets and their accompanying shadows.

Vex shook her head when the man picked up his bow and, whistling a jaunty tune, started making his way down.

A stillness came from the forest that she could find nowhere else.

Kindness isn't a luxury, Vex.

When there is a grand cause to be won, he said, sometimes, there are unavoidable casualties. None of us are happy about that, but it’s a painful reality. He paused and added, We’ve all accepted our culpability…

He didn't care for the books their tutors gave them, but he did care for the shadowed alleyways, the exquisitely carved arched passageways, the dancing lights in the trees. He wanted to know and taste the parts of the city that never make it into a history book.

The woods could provide for almost anything. Food, protection, a place where they didn’t have to be wary about anything or anyone else. It was simple and peaceful-most of the time.

The fact that the dwarf didn’t have weapons visible on him didn’t make him any less dangerous. He was all sharp edges. Sharp words, sharp smiles, sharp knives. He exuded power.

The bear grunted and nudged her with his head and she scratched his neck and breathed in the familiar scent of fur and mind and safety.

Thorn’s glances were as sharp as his words.

Turyn looked at Vax as though he spoke a different language and with something that almost resembled pity.

To full-blood elves, they might appear too young to be this weathered and weary, but to any perceptive observer, it was clear they came by their caution honestly, and they moved with a grace brought on by years of traveling together.

Cities always got under her skin when she came in from the wild. But where she raised her hackles, Vax thrived. His shoulders dropped and his awareness sharpened. He walked with the gait of someone who expected trouble and would in fact welcome it.

The relazed atmosphere and the pleasant buzz of voices wrapped around Vax as he followed Gideor, as if to remind him that perhaps the Clasp wasn’t so bad an ally to have. That perhaps there was something to the spireling’s words after all. Vax regarded it all warily, recognizing how the tavern functioned as both a lure and a mask for the dangers that lay underneath.

What’s the catch? What are you not telling me?” Gideor smiled. “How delightfully distrustful. Why would I withold everything?” “Because information must be earned.” Vax shifted in his seat. “And you have no reason to trust me.” “But I do. You’re share your allegiance to the Clasp, of course,” Gideor said, like it was a foregone conclusion. “And we know where to find your sister if you don’t.

The last remnants of Deanna the child--the idealist, the sheltered elite--had been torn loose by tonight's tragedies, slain with the same bullet that had felled her would-be killer. She had no idea who the new person inhabiting this shell of her old self would become. The realization frightened her.

A flutter of bright green drew Deanna's focus out of the turbulent realm of her head and onto the flame-damaged storage shed. From the hold below the scorched eaves she saw the male paloma emerge and take flight. A few seconds later the drab brown female popped out. She soared after her mate. Deanna gasped in shock, amazed that any creature could have survived.