The binding tie of local Erastil faith, carries the burden of unity.
In the silent night of the forest, a spot of light beacons from the mids. Colors of fire dance on the barks of the trees as the camp fire devours its food. Around it, cohort of hunters, old and young, gather to both tally up the game of the hunt and brag about their own achievements and spectacular kills.
Young male, hardly a man yet, brought along side the older hunters to see and feel what it was like, approaches a hooded man sitting by himself near the fire, chewing on the modest portion of beef jerky all of them were assigned as traveling meals before they left Trunau. Although he saw the young man approach him far away, he does not react to amuse the kid. As he creeps towards him and finally sits beside him, he collects the courage to ask what has been bothering him. “Ay, are you the herald of the hunt?”
To the teen boy’s surprise, Linus begins to chuckle, almost choking on his dried meat. “Oh dear, oh dear…” he is able to pronounce between bits of jerky. "To this my status has ascended to such highs, it feels just yesterday that I was regarded as “that nosey nuisance”. Initially confused by the levity of the response, the teen then continues: “Then what are you really?”. To which Linus can only respond: “The patron of peasants I guess.”