War's balance will prevail.
You're talent, and we're the talent scouts.
Some nights, valor and cold purpose aren't enough.
Order is its own reward.
Wisdom, Niko thought as he leaned his cheek against his long-handled rake, cannot be had without price. And that price is blood. The sound of it in your veins. The pound of it in your head. The volume of it in a human body; the sickness when you've spilled it.
Nothing powers hate better than embarrassment.