We all hath been there.
Ye know, one of those days when nothing seems to beeth going right. When e’en though thy band of roving warriors hadst meticulously planned thy pillaging of a small coastal township, a stormfront bleweth in and dashed all of thy raiding party’s ships upon the rocky shoals.
‘Tis tough. We doth know.
Thou probably spent days walking cold and wet ‘long the shoreline, lamenting the loss of many a dear friend in the icy waters. Thou probably wert forced to hideth in caves from the locals like a coward and eateth the meat of gulls, if anathing a’tall.
Nobody liketh these kinds of days any more than thou dost. But we all hath to get through them.
Instead of fixating on the many spoils of war that hath gone un-plundered, usest this tyme for some reflection and self-care. Thou hast been on many a raiding expedition, but how often hast thou taken some alone tyme to just think about raiding? There beeth much to ponder in the goodness of violently sacking a village and burning it to ash. But hast thou e’er really appreciated just how wondrous it is to mercilessly take from the weak?
So findest a bluff or a cliff face staring out at the sea. Stand boldly upon this promontory on a stormy night, and tell thyself, “I will pillage again!”