These warriors of the Sacred Band were inscrutable; they loved their war and death and picking through the bones of time to sort out right from wrong, good from bad, holy from profane, honor from dishonor.

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

Here and now was always where Tempus was, not off somewhere in the realm of Greater Good or Mortal Soul or Eternal Consequence. He'd lost the ability to determine greater good, if there was one; his mortal soul he'd given up on long ago. And as for eternal consequence - he was its embodiment.

There is no mercy in trading life for life. And certainly no righteousness. Mercy, once given, cannot be taken back.

I think we're all in Cime's army now. But never mind, the Storm God hasn't forgotten us. Heaven is no farther away than it ever was.

Gods are nothing without their worshipers; they act on the affairs and the passions of men.

Time is so...fluid where I live