There are tales of all places, aren't there? My experiences of home were, admittedly, more sheltered than I might like, but I heard the tales. The kind that would have my mother upon her fainting sofa.

[ It's said with a little warmth, though it's likely clear that she's glad to be away from said mother. ]

I have not been as far as I might have liked, I'm afraid. From Nevarra to Kirkwall, as straight as I could manage. I wish that I had more stories to tell.