And what do the Theban hoplites see in this extended rending of the sky, this white-bright glory of Enlil's lightning? The future, but not theirs: paired cavalry fighters; formed ranks of armored death; grim men on their tall horses with lightning limning weapons tailored to the task; men spoiling for a fight if the gods allowed - the Sacred Band of Stepsons, out from shadows and the dark.

You're not one to take lightly, to love of for an evening and leave of a dawn.

Death is a doorway, Niko, that leads to an adventure greater than any you have ever known.

Tempus would be protected, better shielded from whatever the Stepson thought threatening, if love could heal and save.

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

"Learn what can, and cannot, be asked from destiny."

Sacred Bands and elite squadrons aren't what the mercenaries' guild is about. Field them at your peril.