It is upon each soul to recognize its limit.
Proof of war, when it comes, always comes too late.
These Stepsons tread where mortals don't belong, some of us think. They seek out battle high above their station. Who knows what powers may yet take them and their mystic allies to task, bring them their comeuppance?
The city guardsmen were like the keres, doom-bringers of merciless vengeance.
Something is going on everywhere, most of which no one understands.
Revenge is never the best driver for a battle, but a common one.