“There and back again, but always this place,” William muttered. The dock side streets of Scara Brae City were are familiar to him as they were unfamiliar. Years of growth and change serving only to enhance the places that he remembered all that much more. The old sailor’s dive bars and cargo shipping warehouses now contended with adventuring supply companies and inland tour group organizers looking to capitalize on fresh faced newcomers with more coin in their purse than skill in their hands or sense in their brains.

That’d been William, once upon a time. He’d fled Amra, his homeland, a tormented fugitive, freed from Kaloth’s grip only to find himself a slave to the rage burning in his chest. By the time he’d recovered his mind, Amran shores were long distant, nearly forgotten in the foreign ports of Althanas. Lost and alone, Scara Brae had become his new home.

Not that he’d escaped persecution here, either.

“Lord?” Duncan’s voice intruded. Sighing, William pulled his attention back to the present and focused it on the Lady Faire’s chief porter.

“Yes, Duncan?” he asked.

“We have offloaded your cargo and my crew is just about finished packing up your luggage. Do you have a destination to which we can order a delivery service or will you be taking possession of the cargo yourself?

William reached deep into a pocket inside the heavy coat he wore and pulled out a smooth crème envelope. “Have it shipped to the Auburn Livery Hospitale,” he said.

Duncan’s face clearly registered shock as he repeated, “The Auburn, my lord?”

William smiled at Duncan’s reaction, though he didn’t blame the sailor. The Auburn Livery Hospitale was one of the most exclusive and affluent hotels in Scara Brae City, catering only to travelling nobility and patrons of the wealthiest order. William was affluent enough to afford first class passage on the ship from Corone, but nothing else about the man belied enough status to earn a room at the Auburn. William said nothing else and simply tossed Duncan a bag of coins and turned back to the Scara Brae City skyline, leaving the porter to his wonder and confusion. Duncan scurried off, casting one last querying glance over his shoulder before disappearing down the gangplank. William had already put the man out of his mind.

“It even smells the same,” William thought, closing his eyes long enough to savor a long drag of the rancid sea air. There were those who loved the salt brine smell of sea water and the particular way it congealed around the docks and wharves of civilized society. Scara Brae City was no different, but there was an oddly paradoxical freshness beneath the tang of piles of seaweed and oily debris washed up under the frontage boardwalk. It was a freshness that signaled hope and potential.

Is that why he came back here, William wondered. Was he seeking a new beginning? Redemption? William had done much evil in his life, but there was good there too. No, he didn’t regret. Regret was for other men. That’s what he told himself.

Frustrated, as he always found himself to be upon coming back to Scara Brae City, William turned his mind to other, less troubling matters. He departed the Lady Faire, trusting the porters to properly see to his luggage and all the other sundries. Those things were of no concern to the Revenant at the moment. Instead he turned his thoughts to a project long unfinished, a project in which the only logical place to finish his work was Scara Brae.

Other lands boasted many fine master blacksmiths and weapons crafters, but Scara Brae elevated the craft, as it did everything, to an art. William could have taken his business to any of those places and walked away with a dangerous new toy to play with, but to truly create a living piece of art was a rare thing indeed. That was what William wanted, and that was what he was going to get.

William marched into the headquarters of the Brae Blacksmith’s Guild and posted a notice to their work board, ignoring the inquiries of the guild postern behind the counter. The notice read:

I require an artisan of the highest quality to complete a weapons project of the most dangerous and abstract nature. Esoteric knowledge and skill in forging and creation is a must.

Interested parties may seek out the Knight of Brae staying in the Auburn Livery Hospitale.

“That should be vague and interesting enough to draw the right sort of crafter,” William chuckled as he reread the notice, deeming it satisfactory. Work finished, William left the Blacksmith’s Guild and continued his reminiscing walk down the streets of Scara Brae.

It was good to be back.