The Reach then, the Fingers now. Two different lives to be sure. Down there I was a tournament knight, fought in the Ninepenny Kings war, had a family too. I’d think that’s enough action for two lifetimes! But ever since getting to these damned northern fells it’s been one mess after another. The clansmen, the barghast, Rancis, Ogden, the Trident, the slavers, northern treachery, and eastern dragons. Even Barristan the Bold should have seen himself killed 4 or 5 times after it all! But here I am still kicking like a Dornish ass!

Have I fallen into the grace of the Seven? Does the Father guide my step? Or is it something more?

Old Naan used to tell tales of Garth the Green and other heroes. Legends who lived for hundreds of years and did great deeds. Used to think that was all a folly, but lately I’ve been thinking different. It could be th….

Ah-THUD!

Fuck! Here I am getting distracted again. A hero? Ho! Darron, you’re just a grey old knight who daydreams too much and can’t keep his legs under him in a swell. Got lucky a time or two, but just as killable as any man with more guts than agility.

Well, no sense getting up. Lets see if the ol’ hero of Snownook can put another arrow in this sea creature before it pulls Jardon over. He doesn’t look to be putting up much of a fight. Maybe this gal is one of his salt wives he’s always going on about! Ho Ho!