I picture Megalos roaring like a bull moose and breaking the Bishop of Rome across his knee. He’s a huge bastard. I’m not a thin man, but inside his gaiters this guy must have legs like the Pillars of Herakles. He’s big like strongmen are, huge belly and fat on his limbs, muscle underneath as thick as a pork roast. Carpentry, I realise, remembering the briefing. He’s a carpenter, in emulation of you-know-who.