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?

Life was never simple, happiness never where you thought you'd left it, and right and wrong no more fixed than clouds in the sky.

I don't want to be any closer to the gods than death will bring me.

Reasons never matter, once Death comes cold and bold and takes the living by the hand. You count up your dead, every one.

What wastrel mankind destroyed takes time for nature to put to rights.

You must become like yourself.

Painful things are quickly forgotten.