Growing up in London, where I was born, with a name like Percy was difficult to say the least. It taught me that the best answer to a taunt, is a well delivered right hook. Needless to say, by the time my voice began to change, there were even a few adult men that would give me a wide berth. Once I came of age I decided that I rather enjoyed brawling so I sought out the army to join up for a life of adventure.

The London garrison didn't hold the adventure that I wanted though, I was constantly fighting with other soldiers, which I genuinely thought was the point of it all. My gambling though, that became a problem, it's not that I lost a lot, I just forgot to pay a lot of people back. Finally, my debts grew too numerous, and too large. I was sent off to Ireland and the Dublin garrison in lieu of debtors prison.

Ireland though, this is definately to my liking, these people aren't just peasants, they're Irish peasants. Prideful and angry at our "oppression", they're usually one or two jibes away from a rousing fistfight. I've even gotten into more than a few knife fights with the local rabble. This is the life that I dreamt of as a child, now at least I understand why God would choose to allow a name like Percy placed upon my head, it was all just in preparation for Ireland.