I am Allannon and I shall tell you a tale of such magnificent gain and tremendous loss. The last time I set foot in my homeland I was 35 and our lands were besieged by Saxons.

Now I have returned at the age of 145 to find our lands are overrun with Anglo-Saxons and my people scattered across the countryside. "145 years old, thats immpossible," I hear you say, well 110 years ago I would have thought the same as you, but now I know better, and I shall relate to you the sorry tale of what has come to pass.

110 short years ago I was the leader for a scouting party patroling the tribal lands for marauding Saxons.

One fateful day we happened upon a band of Saxons journeying home with the booty from a raid somewhere around our boarder, so we set upon them most ferociously, and by the end we laid to rot they're bloodied, headless bodies to the ground.

Amongst the booty they had stolen there were items from a church, and one of the objects was a most strange bowl or cup; half bowl, half cup, a strange object to behold. I did recall at the time a ragged wild haired Christain priest ranting about a Chalise that belonged to his God.

One of my men opened a casket of wine, also from the church goods no doubt, as nothing else amongst the booty displayed such wealth, and so with the strange object in hand we dipped into the wine and drank deeply where upon all our wounds were healed instantly, even those of the mortally wounded and dying, but the magic stopped short of raising the dead so we gave up hope that it was the fabled cauldron of the Dagda, and I reconsidered it being what the priest had called the Chalise of Christ, but either way it was going to be a valuable asset in battle.

On our way home with the confiscated booty and the chalise, we strayed, and many years later I was the only one to return, and return I did without the fabled vessel. Now I wander many lands looking for those brave enough to travel to Scotland and decend into the underworld and help gain back what was lost.