I left the holdfast when I was a young man, grog still stuck in my beard and my grandmother’s axe on my back. I reckoned I’d come back and take over the family business once I’d had a taste of the world.
Thing is, I like how the outside world tastes. I like the evening company of leggy women and sinewy men. I enjoy mulled wine and tea. My people have it right on goat stew and mushrooms, no one else comes close to my dad’s recipe on that and I can feed a city block with a stout goat if I cook it his way.
Hell and Blood, I trim my beard and study fencing. My brothers would give me such shite over it. I can’t even tell ya.