"The leonin is right," Rimuel said, freed of Rckaird's spell by a discreet counterspell from Morgana. "That abomination called New Phyrexia is not the plane I come from. Mirrodin exists so long as just one Mirran stands in defiance of those monsters. And last time I checked, I still refused to acknowledge my home as lost for all time."
"As for your opinion," Morgana said to Claire. "Luck may or may not have touched us all and made us what we are. However, those with power have responsibility to the powerless. You say the best of us are impartial. Perhaps the best of us are those who use this gift to fight tyranny and evil." She considered. "The worst of us on the other hand would indeed be those who used such power to dominate and rule in tyranny. I have met such people before." She recalled the words.
"Despair to the powerless, and glory to those with the power."
"This Orochi must have had some motive for his actions," Rimuel considered. "And indeed, perhaps we are the only people capable of discovering just what that was. If it is sinister, then we can put a stop to it." He considered his abilities. His powers weren't normally of summoning. He could perhaps call forth a small group of Mirran soldiers if he were to put his mind to it, and bring forth his memories of the comrades with whom he had fought New Phyrexia. But it seemed cruel to bring forth images of his dead comrades, merely to serve him in battle. That was why he had never done so. His power was of cleansing, of destruction and purification. Fire and light, searing away shadow and blackness.
"Either way, as much as we don't agree with the archon's ideals nor his methods," Morgana said. "He is at least right about one thing. If we intend to chase down this Orochi, we cannot do so if we're at each others' throats every few minutes. I suggest we at least try to get along if we're going to work together." She paused. "If that is sorted, then we might want to consider some starting points. Places we can go and look for answers or clues."