“Some wield blades. I carry a barrel. Some pray with words. I pour.”

My name is Magnus Meadmaker, and I am the last of the Pourbound — sacred brewers from the high forests where giants once steeped joy into ritual. In my homeland, we believed a shared drink could bless a child, seal a promise, honor the dead, or soften a sorrow too sharp for words.

We brewed not to forget — but to remember better.

The Spark within me was not a gift from a god, but the last breath of someone I loved: Liora Lifekeeper. She followed the Voice in the Forest. I never heard it myself. But I believe in the one who did.

So I carry her light in silence. I walk not as a warrior, but as a shield of warmth. I pour before I fight. I serve before I speak.