Tread carefully, now. Not even a god would survive sacrificing me.

For I am death. And I am not the end - I am a beginning.

Like moons make swell and wane the nescient seas, so too the sky-strewn gods ordain the tidal fates of mortal days. And yet - a notion born in lonely hours - come ebb, come flow, come all that is beyond the breadth of our dominion: be a moon unto yourself. Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will.

Go on. Give the worgs some Booze! They'll love it.

Peace. Enjoy it while it lasts.