Born to a Caledonian Lord in the Iron Ages as the youngest of 3 brothers. He was the smallest and frailest of all the boys in the village, barely able to wield a sword. He trained and practiced during the day and in the evenings by candle light he learned to read and write. Always dismissed and overlooked, he ghosted through the halls and became more than adept at stalking shadows and learning things he shouldn't about everyone in the castle; eventually garnering a reputation as a cunning trickster among those who knew him. During one such encounter, he heard his father discussing a message they'd received from a courier with his uncle. The Roman forces were on their way to seize their land. His father was fully prepared to defend their territory. Knowing this was a death sentence, Declan packed 2 days worth of rations and saddled his horse then headed to the forest. Rumor had it that if one made it to the heart of the wood you could seek audience with an ancient being that would grant you your greatest desires, at a cost. If it meant saving his people, his village, he would pay it. Once at the heart of the forest, a terrible dread filled his gut at the wrongness of the magic that filled the small clearing. It pulsed through his skin and bones like a living thing, feeling him, invasive and searching the barest parts of his soul. A dreadful and ancient god among the fair folk appeared, introducing himself as Watt. For millennia, Watt existed in this holy sanctuary, only granting the wishes of those who both braved and overcame the trials of the forest surrounding him. But not without great cost.