It’s inevitable-as agents of change, magi transform themselves and their world simply by existing. A callow apprentice becomes a cocky sorcerer in a blink of the Devil’s eye; in time, he might ascent to the Zenith or Fall into the thorns of temptation and sin. The Path he walks will follow him, and the echoes of his passing will linger for years, decades, or centuries to come.

A temple’s sanctity lies in its soul, not in its stones.

There’s something both threatening and enticing about the end of a map.

It takes a certain amount of hubris to juggle with Creation; the more severe the juggling, the larger the risk.

An important moment-a deadly fire; an encounter with the spirit world, etc.-can leave its mark in the mage’s life. The moment forges a link between the sorcerer, her personality and her powers-a link that never fades.

The Path of Thorns bears that name for a reason; it’s a prickly journey from apprentice to archmage, and few sorcerers survive the trip. The rick, however, makes the game worthwhile.

Music, they say, unlocks the passions we all live by; it’s only natural, then that satyrs are the masters of song and dance.

By the time the Order of Reason began its purge, the Hermetics presented a large and overconfident target. More than any other group, they felt the lash of the scourge.

Strength, after all, is the mark of a magus-strength of will, strength of mind and strength of purpose.