As long as I have know I have been a farmer. I’d been doing it for so long it was all i could remember. Endless hours farming, working with my hands and sometimes my magic. Of late the magic seemed to be more and more what i relied on.

For months I was doing the normal thing, slashing my way through the dungeons. I’d figured out where the best outfits dropped. My wife had pointed out that people paid the most for clothes. I still don’t understand the obsession but at least I understood what would pay the best and would let us take care of everything else we needed in our lives. The rest of our needs were easily taken care of with the money we made from the clothes.

A troll invasion quickly derailed my usual plans. I was forced home to protect the family. I was forced to rely upon my magic as the trolls proved stubbornly resistant to my blades. Rather than blades of steel, I used blades of ice, raining them down upon the invading masses.

The invaders seemed endless. For days I slaughtered any that approached our home, though I could do nothing to save those further away. It was all i could do to protect those near and dear. Eventually I knew I would have to see out the source. Seek out their King.

With a final push, I forced back the ranks of the trolls, tracking down the shamans that continually revived their fallen and defeating them all. I had earned us a few days reprieve from the onslaught. Long enough to gather friends. Long enough to find the source.

They needed to be stopped.

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