Enias edged his horse closer to the T’lan Imass, as if still mindful of a fight. He bared his teeth. ‘There is not much left of you, Lifeless One. Are those the scorings of fangs? Your chest has been in the jaws of some beast, I think. The same that stole your arm? By what sorcery do you hold on to existence?’ ‘You are of Tiste blood,’ Onrack observed. The man’s face twisted into a sneer. ‘Tiste blood? Only among the Liosan is the Tiste blood pure. You have crossed paths with our tainted cousins, then. They are little more than vermin. You have not answered my questions.’ ‘I know of the Tiste Andii, but I have yet to meet them. Born of Darkness, they were the first—’ ‘The first! Oh, indeed. And so tragically imperfect. Bereft of Father Light’s purifying blood. They are a most sordid creation. We tolerate the Edur, for they contain something of the Father, but the Andii – death by our hands is the only mercy they deserve. But I grow weary of your rudeness, Lifeless One. I have asked you questions and you are yet to answer a single one.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Yes? What does that mean?’ ‘I agree that I have not answered them. Nor do I feel compelled to do so. My kind has much experience with arrogant creatures. Although that experience is singular: in answer to their arrogance we proclaimed eternal war, until they ceased to exist. I have always believed the T’lan Imass should seek out a new enemy. There is, after all, no shortage to be noted amongarrogant beings. Perhaps you Tiste Liosan are numerous enough in your own realm to amuse us for a time.’ The warrior stared, as if shocked speechless. Behind him, one of his companions laughed. ‘There is little value in conversing with lesser creatures, Enias. They will seek to confound you with falsehoods, to lead you away from the righteous path.’ ‘I see now,’ Enias replied, ‘the poison of which you have long warned me, Malachar.’ ‘There will be more to come, young brother, on the trail we must follow.’ The warrior strode up to Onrack. ‘You call yourself a T’lan Imass, yes?’ ‘I am Onrack, of the Logros T’lan Imass.’ ‘Are there others of your kind in this ruined realm, Onrack?’ ‘If I did not answer your brother’s questions, why imagine I would answer yours?’ Malachar’s face darkened. ‘Play such games with young Enias, but not with me—’ ‘I am done with you, Liosan.’ Onrack sheathed his sword and swung away.

— House of Chains by Steven Erikson (Malazan Book of the Fallen, #4) (Page 453)