After the invading army of those Celtic men had taken my home from me, I was made a slave. They made me do everything for them, and after they had taken everything from me. My wife, my sons, everything I cared about was gone, and they wouldn't even give me the honor and privilege of dying in battle. Now, they are having a ritual, one they say is important to their gods. I don't give a damn about their gods, but as I stare up at that wicker statue, I remember the stories. I can look forward to something now.