In his youth, Leif enjoyed basking in the sun. Upon maturity, he was
plucked from his home and thrust into service. Battle wilted his will
and bruised his body. He was captured and left in a sweltering cell.
There he withered completely.
Broken, they put him with others like him. It was comfortable and
he figured he could wait peacefully, in the calm dark, for his
It was not to be. The darkness breached; he was elated to see sunlight
again, until the scaulding water poured over him and he cried flavored
tears which went very nicely with honey.