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.

I wanna ride you until you see stars.

I've taken more pleasant shits than you, Mizora.

Smashing! Soon, my friend - soon we can share a flagon of something liquid and a tale of derring-do!

The alliance is reforged, mortal. The planes thus quake, and the gods shudder.