Reasons never matter, once Death comes cold and bold and takes the living by the hand. You count up your dead, every one.
Death's easy to find. If She wants you, you'll meet Her here as well as anywhere.
So well do I love you, I go to my god singing your praises. When I meet my father, I will tell him I fought beside you.
Gods have bloody hands.
Some nights, valor and cold purpose aren't enough.
You're not one to take lightly, to love of for an evening and leave of a dawn.