Letti wasn’t born to pass through the world. She had been born to sit atop of it.

A fortress doesn’t fall unless its towers are weakened.

When the hero is ready, the mentor appears.

Your best disguise is the strong impression your enemy has of you. Strong...and dead wrong.

(Background: Morgan is a female warrior looking for a fight. Adhémar is your garden variety male.)

A man near the door leered at her. Adhémar immediately stepped in front of her, but Morgan pushed him aside. She looked at the man and smiled pleasantly. Ah, something to take her mind off her coming journey.
"Did you say something?" she asked.
"Aye," he said, "I asked it you were occupied tonight, but I can see you have a collection of lads here to keep you busy—"
Adhémar apparently couldn't control his chivalry. He took the man by the front of the shirt and threw him out the door. The man crawled to his feet and started bellowing. Adhémar planted his fist into the man's face.
The stranger slumped to the ground, senseless. Morgan glared at Adhémar.
"You owe me a brawl," she said.
"What?" he asked incredulously.
"A brawl," Morgan said. "And it had best be a good one."
"With me?" he asked, blinking in surprise.
"I'd prefer someone with more skill, that I might not sleep through it, but you'll do."
Paien laughed out loud and pulled him away.
"Adhémar, my friend, you cannot win this one. Next time, allow Morgan her little pleasures. She cannot help the attention her face attracts, and thus she has opportunities to teach ignorant men manners. In truth, it is a service she offers, bettering our kind wherever she goes.

You see, people are everywhere. They are everything. No matter who we are, or what we do, people are involved in our lives. If those people are poisonous, our lives will be poisonous also.