Your favourite bike which you lovingly nicknamed Durandal. Painted black to hide in the shadows and with an engine almost completely silent, she was built for speed and stealth. You grab your helmet and mount up, sneaking away unseen. Old habits die hard.
Two hours journey and you can see your home on the horizon. Or at least, you can see the mountain upon which your house is built and hidden. Following treacherous and secret roads you make your way through the bamboo forest and eventually come across the cave entrance. A little ways in and you park and dismount before being greeted by your butler.
“Welcome home sir. Dinner is ready if you wish to eat? Or would you prefer a bath or something else?”
You look up and in the muted light from the hole in the cave roof you can see the complex arrangement of wooden housing and stone walls that you call home.
“It’s good to be back.”
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