Your father was a man of the earth, tilling the soil and raising life giving crops. It was a life of hard, thankless work that turned your muscles into steel chord as you grew. While you might not have been able to weild a blade with any precision, you could split wood and and work a plow better than anyone else in your family. As you became a young man, your father began to tell you of the ways of the world, of places far beyond your imagination. You dreamed of these exciting lands and the adventures you might have, but as time wore on it soon became evident that it would be impossible to set out in search of glory. You were needed here, and although your father encouraged you to pursue a better life than this, you remained at the farm until the strings of fate pulled you away.
One day while working the feilds a familier man walks by and begins to question you about your work. It's obvious that the speaker knows you well as he calls you by name, however with the amount of concentration it took to keep your unweildy scyth on track you could not afford to look up. "Are you here for my father?" you ask without looking. "No, as a matter of fact I came here looking for you..." You frown and finaly set your heavy tool down to look the speaker in the eye. The man who meets you gaze is...
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