Will we ever hear about or see the banners of ancient nations like Kuniuri, Aorsi or Kyraneas?

Ancient nations didn't really have "heraldry" in the medieval sense we use - this stuff was put into system during the High Middle Ages, and was mostly a Western European thing (and according to some people like Spengler, medieval heraldry was an unique expression of the Western mind). The ancient empires and city-states of Greece, Rome, and the Middle-East, what Bakker is using as inspiration, didn't really have an equivalent to "Game of Thrones" heraldry.

Tribal symbols and totems existed before that, and in every human society, but those are a different thing, as are military symbols and national banners.

Reading the latest TSA books, it's clear that the Hundred Gods have a very limited perception when it comes to Eärwa (not only blind to the No-God, but presumably to all soulless creatures). Also, they obviously need earth-bound agents to enforce their will on the living.

And where is the creation myth? Your series is so full of religion and religious metaphysics, but so far there's no reference to how "it all began". Who created the human race? What is the equivalent of Adam and Eve, in a universe where religious scripture is an objective reality? It seems that the Hundred didn't create humanity after all, and they're more like extra-dimensional parasitic demons than "Gods" in any traditional sense...

Man, I forgot about this. I remember the tribes going quiet and all, but the idea of a new, Consult-bolstered Horde storming into the Three Seas (just in time to fuck up everybody's shit, Fanayal included) sounds...awesome, in a horrible way.

This.

We hear a lot about the Scylvendi being the horsemen of the apocalypse, this unstoppable force of destruction, so I'd also like to see that happen on-page. Overrunning all of the Three Seas, wrecking both the Fanim and the Inrithi, and just storming in and burning down civilization. It'd be a great climax to the Momemn storyline, plus it makes the Consult look a lot smarter and Kellhus a lot more machiavellian if he knew this would happen.

Also, I love the idea of the Scylvendi sending that one son to be a member of the Scions, even though we know for a fact that such a hostage would be utterly meaningless to the Scylvendi themselves

Even funnier is that the Scylvendi hostage was the only scion who survived the Sranc battle, apart from Sorweel and Tsoronga.

Random tangential question: Did any of Cniaur's children (aside from Lil Moe) survive, that we know of?

No idea, because we don't know much about Cnaiür's children in the first place. He has a lot of them, though, so some of them should still be around. This is how we're introduced to him: "He owned eight wives, thirty slaves, and three hundred cattle. He had fathered thirty-seven sons, nineteen of the pure blood."

Cnaiür's pre-teen daughter Sanathi is the only one of his kids who's named in the text. He only really thinks about Sanathi and her mother Anissi - the rest of his family goes totally neglected.

(No idea if this is meant to show that Cnaiür's single-minded obsession with Kellhus/Moengus is so overwhelming that he forgets his family, or that the Scylvendi culture is extremely warlike and doesn't care about family sentiment. Or maybe just Bakker not being bothered with endless tertiary characters - while something like Game of Thrones would've named his entire family tree.)

the final scenes between Cnaiur and Conphas are some of my favorites--Cnaiur losing it by degree and Conphas showing off an impenetrable egoism.  i've met people like Conphas and have wondered if some degree of violence could shatter their view of the world--Bakker made a plausible character survive with his illusion intact until the end?  i can't tell if Conphas is really seeing his world crumble or not, i could very well think that he thinks it's still going to end in his favor via miracle or something

Bakker's "pride is a defect from the womb" line does suggest that Conphas is a clinical sociopath from birth and can never have his ego shattered, no matter how many times Cnaiür ass-raped him. He's what criminal psychologists would call a pathological narcissist.

Bakker mentioned once, in a bit of an off-hand remark, that some of the chapter epigraphs in TJE and WLW were supposed to be written by Kellhus under a pseudonym.

So, which ones?

Here's the passage I was talking about:

Then, as though massacre possessed its own momentum, the Holy War’s occupation of Shigek degenerated into wanton carnage, though for what reason, no one knew. Perhaps it was the rumours of poisoned dates and pomegranates. Perhaps bloodshed simply begat more bloodshed. Perhaps their faith’s certainty was as terrifying as it was beautiful. What could be more true than destroying the false?

Word of the Inrithi atrocities spread among the Shigeki. Before the altar and in the streets the Priests of Fane claimed that the Solitary God punished them for welcoming the idolaters. The Shigeki began barricading themselves in their great, domed tabernacles. With their wives and children they gathered wailing on the soft carpets, crying out their sins, begging the God for forgiveness. The thunder of battering rams at the gates would be their only answer. Then the rush of iron-eyed swordsmen.

Every tabernacle across the North Bank witnessed a massacre. The Men of the Tusk hacked the screaming penitents into silence, then they kicked over the tripods, smashed the altars, tore the tapestries from the walls and the kneeling rugs from the floors. Anything carrying the taint of Fanimry they heaved into colossal fires. Beneath monstrous towers of smoke, dogs ate the heaped dead and licked blood from the broad steps.

None suffered more horribly than the Fanic priests. At night, the Inrithi used them for drunken sport, slicing open their bellies, leading them like mules by their own entrails. Some were blinded, some strangled, some were forced to watch their wives and daughters raped. Others were flayed alive. A great many were burned as witches.

In red-walled Nagogris, the maddened Men of the Tusk actually began slaughtering one another. Almost as soon as the Holy War had arrived at the city gates, the Shigeki governors remaining in the city sent emissaries to Ikurei Conphas, offering to surrender to the Empire in exchange for Imperial protection. Conphas immediately dispatched General Numemarius and a strong cohort of Kidruhil cavalry. Through some fatal mistake, however, the gates were thrown open to a large force of Thunyeri, who promptly began massacring and plundering the city. The Kidruhil attempted to intervene, and pitched battles broke out in the streets. When General Numemarius finally met with Yalgrota Sranchammer under flag of truce, the giant brained him.

Also, I never really saw the Nonmen's worship of oblivion as actual "darkness-worship", but rather as a worship of endless Becoming (to use the Heidegger term) and infinite potential.

The Inchoroi and Nonmen both seem to have a worldview that Heidegger calls "Das Gestell" (translated into English stupidly as "framing"). It's the modernist attitude of viewing the universe as basically raw material that waits for us to rework or "perfect" it. The Inchoroi have a lot more in common with us modern Westerners than any of Bakker's human characters. They don't view anything as possessing any intrinsic "being" or "nature". They're all pure potential, waiting for us to pick them up. Trees are potential paper, a great river (Heidegger's own example) is a potential power source, AIDS victims are potential profits for medical companies, and the Inchoroi of today are, with the latest genetic rewirings, the new and improved Inchoroi of tomorrow. For modern people and Inchoroi, things have no real nature of their own - their nature is always something that we make real. So modern thinking always orients itself to the future.

In a lot of ways, Bakker's blind-brain philosophy is a criticism of this "Das Gestell" modernist view.