Ulfheoinn tossed and turned restlessly throughout the night until he couldn’t take it anymore. He finally arose reaching for the nightstand where his hand brushed against the crest on his journal. After lighting a candle, he sat down opening to a blank page where his hand took on a mind of its own. Soon after the page began to fill with the words of everything that troubled his mind.
“One can not predict the outcome of what is to come. It seems like yesterday the Robertssworn brought us a way to avenge V, all of the clans are united once more, and the southern oppression is over. The ancestor have blessed us, everything that needs to happen seems to be falling in place. But yet, the words of one of my advisors still lingers in my thoughts. He warned me that the Robertssworn could be the downfall to us. What if someone worthy like their Robert comes along, will they still help our people or will mutiny destroy us?
I fought one out at sea, Sfet is what she goes by. How quick I was in accepting the duel once she questioned me to be a coward. I fought on the boat with nothing but my spear and honour held high. Alas, I misjudged her, and the alcohol did nothing but to cloud my mind. At the end of it, I was in the water surely sinking to a watery grave. However, my opponent was not without mercy. She brought me back up to the boat and saved my life. All I remember before I came back was seeing my father again. ---
