[Connor O'Riley]

Connor slowly stepped out of the gate to portshire and looked around. He had remembered something his father had told him about the woods. His father had said a few nights before he died "The woods may be not for seafaring fold like us but it holds what we use to have our trade of shipping goods and such. You can make spears to hunt or gather fruit to fight off scurvy. And get furs to keep you warm on cold stormy nights."
Connor had remembered that lesson for years. He pulled his dagger sheathed on his belt. He fingered the blade trying to find the sharpest side. He knicked his thumb slightly and wiped it on his shirt that shows his slightly tanned arms and bulging muscles. Once he good tree he searched for a strong limb he could fashion into a spear.