From the prologue ("Are you vanquished, Colston, are you vanquished?") to the epilogue ("Tell him there's no spell or curse except an unloving heart") it felt, as I reread, uncannily familiar, like something I knew – and had no idea I knew – by heart.
Each foe you vanquished – and I hacked and slashed my way through tens of thousands – was like a box containing hidden delights.
You must know your enemies before you can vanquish them; use the following reconnaissance to win the battle against typos.
It was like the elves of Rivendell giving you some ancient elven blade that was good and allowing you to vanquish the orcs.
Why choose to merely ingest, he asks, when you can vanquish?
To win each level of Chaos, you must vanquish enough ninjas to acquire at least three of five possible stars.
You have vanquished the fear you felt.
And you should anticipate that at any given moment there's going to be flare-ups of bigotry that you may have to confront, or may be inside you and you have to vanquish.
