Hæþcyn, son of Hreðel
A simple farmer.
"The deathbed was strewed for the eldest unfitly,
by the act of his kinsman,
when Hæthcyn, his lord-friend,
slew him with an arrow from his horn-bow;
he missed his mark and shot his kinsman,
one brother another, with a bloody shaft.
That was a priceless slaughter, horribly done.
His father, Hrethel was weary of heart.
Nevertheless the ætheling must part from life unavenged...''
(The Anglo-Saxon Sagas, Haigh, 1861).
None of late.
Thrill of battle, knowledge, stories, mead, sharp-witted kinds of fairer sex.
Hypocrites, prejudiced folk, arse lickers.
To explore the utmost untrodden places of the Kingdom, hunt down the spawns of the Boar in Everholt and feed everyone in his village.
''I'm a very... curious man.''
|Burdens that we have||6 days 14 hours ago|