When Love cast me out, it was Cruelty who took pity upon me

It is not everyday that one learns an entire militia has sworn unbeknownest to obey you

A nervous silence loosens tongues

All paths are present, always... and we can but choose among them.

Like a falling star, he descended on the Tarbh Cró, a Cassiline berserker, his sword biting and slashing like a silver snake.

We are meant to taste of life ... and drink the cup of it to the dregs, bitter and sweet alike.

We speak of stories ending, when in truth it is we who end. The stories go on and on.