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.

There must be a corps that will battle for righteousness, for there are endless battalions who serve unrighteousness.

Die never for a god, Nikodemos who should know better - not your soldiers' god, nor any other.

Sanctuary is for lovers, not fighters, this season.

I can start the rain. Bring thunder. Bring lightning. Want to see?

Listen close and you can hear, Please, bless us and forgive us, and make us good here and strong here. Let us get along here. Let those we love and left behind be blessed. Let us find the proper path and keep to it. Help us act harmoniously, and find work pleasing in the sight of god and man.

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.