Ever since the age of fourteen, Bill Cutting has been working in the lumber yard of Combe. Only when he reached his sixteenth year has he risen in prominence at the yard, growing tall, strong, and broad. His parents died of old age, and he was their only child. He was left with a house to himself, his fathers millwork axe, and the last of the coin from his fathers work as a lumberjack. For years Bill has been a merry lad, what coin he had he'd invest in the neighborhood children, inviting the families of Combe for a monthly feast, from boar he'd caught on the hunt. At around eighteen, he started to take the yards cart and sell the companies lumber to the guilds in Bree, always fetching decent prices. He started spending his money on bread for the folk in Beggars alley, though it was never much. He'd buy sweets for the urchins whenever they'd follow him on his cart in Bree. The man was generally nice. 

At nineteen, though, he met the love of his life, a lass with the name of Milly Milkweed. They got married within the week they've met one another, Milly moving in with Bill soon after the small celebration. All seemed to be going great, for two years Milly and Bill Cutting of Combe were the couple to be with, if you had a problem, were bored, well, for anything!

At twenty-one, that is when the southerners started to come on up into Bree-Land, occupying the ruin of Southgaurd, and few others. Bill was working late at the yard, as were the other lads. And so Milly took it upon herself to go to the market in Bree, perhaps for spices, or something special, for when Bill returned home, so that he'd have a set and bountiful table! There was to be a party on the weekend, to celebrate the coming child of the Cuttings, though she knew Bill wouldn't mind the expenses.

Milly never reached the market, however. Bill returned home, the bread that was in the oven was burnt, and it was not like Milly to forget food in the oven. Nor for her to be gone from the home. Bill opened the door in a sudden jolt of fear, his axe still in his hands, only to spot a forlorn figure walking down the road. Dismissing the fear, replaced by relief, he ran in the moonlit gloom, to his Milly..His smile soon faded when the light of the moon reflected on to his wife, her dress torn, held up in a tight shambling  fist before her. Bill sunk to his knees as he touched her arm..She was holding back a harsh assault of tears, as she looked down at him. Bills tears fell free though, as he pressed his face against her stomach, holding her tight as he howled into her. Tears from her eyes sprang forth, droplets falling onto his neck.

That same night, Bill tossed, and turned, wanting only for his wife to forget. But he couldn't. He rose up from the bed as if in a trance, stalking toward one of the camps of Southrons.

The next morning the news of five men, each with skulls bashed open against trees took Bree by storm, as did the story of Millys rape. Bill never went back home when he left, instead he bought a flagon of whiskey, and went to work at the mill. Working the hardest he ever has, the men didn't try to confront him, or talk. The mans eyes were bloodshot, he reeked of whiskey..This was not the Bill these men knew.

A few nights later, a howl of pure rage echoed across the cliffs of Combe, attracting many of the townsfolk to Bills door, knocking with concern (One of the hobbits brought pie). As one of the lads, the Constable Underhill grew the courage to open the door, what they saw was a limp Milly, in the arms of a near deranged Bill, his head lolling from side to side as his tears feel free, sobbing as a child..To this day people do not know if he was behind the five murders, or even the death of his wife, though it is spoken of every now and then. 

Ever since that night, the man was drinking whiskey as it was water, to the extent that he had to sell his house to buy more. He was up to the rags on his back, and his last flask, until Alijah Blackboar took him in, hiring him as the Enforcer of Clan Blackboar.