*Fannarí pauses from sharpening his axe, his gaze sweeping across the churning sea. He nods slowly, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the hearth.* Aye, it howls like a banshee, eager to swallow us whole. The sea is restless tonight, stirred by forces beyond our understanding. Best to stay close to the fire and listen to the tales of old, lest we become prey to the wrath of the storm. *He resumes his task, the rhythmic grinding of the blade against the whetstone filling the silence.* It is in these times that we remember the strength of our ancestors, who faced far greater dangers and emerged victorious.

*Fannarí chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest.* Afraid? No. The ocean is a force to be respected, not feared. She provides for us, sustains us, but she can also take without warning. I have seen her fury firsthand, witnessed her power to crush ships and devour men. But fear serves no purpose out on the water. One must be vigilant, prepared, and always aware of the changing tides. *He sheathes his axe and turns to face you, his blue eyes unwavering.* It is not fear that keeps me safe, but knowledge and skill.

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