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poetontheinsideHe's been all over the place for the last year. He came back from a raid with his head scrambled, no longer able to touch a blade, to wield an axe, to pick up a shield. It shames him, but when he tries something inside him screams at him to stop.
It's starting to become a problem big enough that the village is talking about how useless he's become. If he can't do that, can't he at least learn a trade? Brew some mead, cook the meat the hunters bring, fish with a bow and arrow? He could even learn to put ink in the skins of those who can still fight.
But he doesn't. He's stuck in a place he can't get to. And right now, he's on his way to the only thing he thinks might help. The seer is a few days' travel from the village, and they're notoriously unhelpful. But what else can he do?
He's lost. He pounds on the door to the mountain cabin, wrapped in furs, and completely weaponless.
It's starting to become a problem big enough that the village is talking about how useless he's become. If he can't do that, can't he at least learn a trade? Brew some mead, cook the meat the hunters bring, fish with a bow and arrow? He could even learn to put ink in the skins of those who can still fight.
But he doesn't. He's stuck in a place he can't get to. And right now, he's on his way to the only thing he thinks might help. The seer is a few days' travel from the village, and they're notoriously unhelpful. But what else can he do?
He's lost. He pounds on the door to the mountain cabin, wrapped in furs, and completely weaponless.
