Go carefully, child of mat, where no mercy can be had, and let your faith lead you on.

Only from chaos does order come. The angry Fates bring death where they will, when war is king, says Enlil, storm god of the armies, and the tip of his crown rends the clouds above their heads. "Wheresoever I rule, death comes shambling after. So it has always been, is, and will be."

Honorable battle sustains a Sacred Band.

The Fates are here because of supernal anger, celestial imbalance, and arrogance of men and gods that must be curbed.

This fight coming is not a battle of weapons, but a battle of wills.

Deception is a tactic: use it. Do whatever it takes to win.

And Tempus thought then that nothing was more worthwhile than what was growing in this whitewashed barracks, where he has come to build a force such as men or gods have never seen - a force worth reckoning with, if you were of a mind. And something was of that mind. And something else opposed it. He should have expected that. Battle in the heavens, battle on the earth.