I was born in a small Saxon village where I lived happily for my earliest childhood years. Then, one day, when I was still a very small child, my village was raided by a group of Celts. My parents, and almost everyone I knew were slaughtered. Myself and several other young children were taken into captivity by the Celts. From this early age, I was used as a slave laborer. Many of the other children did not survive.
As I grew older, I became more trusted by my captors. Some of my fellow slaves did not understand this. They were continually defiant to our captors, and were often punished. I tried to tell them to be patient, and bide our time, but they paid me no heed. Eventually, insubordination cost every one of them their lives, in very unpleasant ways. But I knew how to please my masters by being obedient. They thought that I had learned from the examples of the others. But my hatred of them grew everyday.
By the time I was a young man, I enjoyed some degree of freedom, but I never tried to escape, because I had nowhere to go. I would not even have known how to get back to Saxon territories, and even if I did, I would be a complete stranger. By this point I only knew the Celtic way of life and would feel alien in any other culture. I had not given up all hope, however. I was aware that the particular Tuatha that held me prisoner all these years had many enemies among other Celtic Tuatha’s. I knew that I was living amongst the most slimy, dishonorable group of Celts in all of the world. They brought such disgrace to the Celtic name, that I will not even mention the name of their wretched Tuatha in this story, but anyone who knows our great history will undoubtedly know of whom I speak.
One day, in my early manhood, the opportunity I had been waiting for finally arrived. Trouble had been brewing between my captors and the nearby Tuatha de Bhriain. It was thought that a battle would occur soon. I was sent out as a lackey on a scouting party attempting to find out where the Bhriain forces may be. There were only two men with me, and I was in charge of all of the supplies for the journey.
On the third day of our mission, we spotted a group of Bhriain warriors. We observed them from hidden positions. My masters planned to observe their movements for a couple of days and then report back to the Clan as to where they were likely to be met in battle. But this was my great opportunity. During the first night, I waited until my masters were asleep, and I quietly slaughtered the two of them. I then took the biggest risk of my life, and approached the Bhriain encampment alone and unarmed at night.
I was able to convince the guards on watch not to kill me and to hear my story. In the morning, I took the warriors out to see the bodies I had left in the woods to prove that my story was true. I proposed that I could return to my captors and claim that the Bhriain had discovered our party and that I alone was able to escape. I could then give misleading information to the Clan leaders as to the positions of the Bhriain warriors. This would lead my captors into an ambush as well as leaving the village virtually defenseless when the warriors left.
As a result, the Bhriain’s were able to send two mighty forces out, one to ambush and slaughter the misled warriors, and another to raid the defenseless village to crush my masters once and for all and take their wealth. It was a glorious victory for the Thuatha de Bhriain, and indeed for all decent Celtfolk.
Because of my aid in this victory, I was allowed to come and live as a free man amongst the good people of the Tuatha de Bhriain. Eventually, I formed very good friendships and was taken in as a full member of this wonderful Clan, which I shall always call my home.
Thus, I am Eberwolf, the Saxon, who is one with the Celts of Bhriain.