Home and heartache...
The oldest residents of that abandoned house were the spiders. Many generations had laced the walls with cobwebs of intricate beauty, though now even they lay in dusty rags. It seems as if it has been decades since a footstep had echoed within those walls, since the dust had been disturbed and the ghosts awoken. The only furniture was an antique pedestal table carved of local oak and upon it a bottle of finest malt whiskey and one up-turned glass.
He knew he shouldn’t be here but much weighed in his heart and mind. For once upon a time this manor served as the home to one Jacob Holt. Here… In Gilneas.
He recalled the events as if it was yesterday. The curse spreading about then being disowned by his very father. Leaving, he went as far as a top of a hill before he realized the Forsaken attacking. Racing back, he could only save his sister. His mother and father were killed.
There was no time to mourn. Only escape. Making their way south, the found their uncle and was kept under the care of Natharen’s mother and father. But the loss of his family and home still wane in his young heart and as to was revenge. It was only a matter of time before he sees both. Until then, only heartbreak reigns in his heart and the travel back is long and heavy.
For Jacob, there is no witty repertoire or flirtatious comments. Only pain and a thirst for revenge.