I was born in the western part of the island of Hibernia, in the area known as Thomond. As a younger lad, I was an apprentice to the heralds of our clan, fascinated with the tales of far off lands and peoples. Leaving my kin behind, I fought the Saracens in places far to the south and east. But, years of war have taken a toll on me as much as age itself, and I have grown weary. A preacher showed me a better way to live; not by the sword, but using words to sway a man's heart. I draw blades now only when words will not stay one's hand; to defend, not to conquer. A good mug of ale and sounds of music and poetry are my comfort now, not the clash of steel and sounds of death.