In the small village known as Amber Pastures, two sixteen year olds, one small and one very, very large, bickered. “Come on Talia, you know we aren’t supposed to leave the village alone!”

“Your 6’4” Arn, nothing is going to bother you! And I already told you that Puremist Mushrooms grow right by the swimming hole. It literally couldn’t be any easier.”

Arn sighed. He knew where this dance was heading.

“Your mother is not sick. You are going to meet with Joshua. Or whoever it is this week.”

Talia’s expression hardened into a scowl. “REALLY? Have you no shame Arn? Just because you can’t get a girlfriend you accuse me of such things? You are pathetic!”

“Fine Talia, I apologize. I’ll just stop home and get my things. And stop by Mistress Elen’s shop, its on the way. She would be offended if she wasn’t told your mother is sick.”

Talia’s face twisted into the expected full out rage. “LISTEN YOU GIANT BLOATED PIG, you are leaving the village in three weeks! I AM GOING TO BE THE HERBALIST NOT YOU! You are only being trained out of pity for your supposed illness! Oh no, I’m Arn, I can’t do anything besides eat pie because of my heart condition! You will get the cursed mushrooms now or I will make you sorry!”

“You’re a very beautiful girl Talia. But spreading your legs for every boy in the village won’t help you in…” The air left Arn at once as Talia’s foot slammed into his crotch. He bent over, heaving, and felt his heart stutter as the world went white. Distantly he heard Talia say “not EVERY boy!” and threaten further consequences if the mushrooms weren’t gathered.

Arn came to lying on his side on the ground, tasting vomit, which was…everywhere. I should have known better. Well, I suppose washing up at the swimming hole is the only chance of avoiding further humiliation, so I may as well get the bloody mushrooms. Arn staggered to his feet, looked around for witnesses to his embarrassment and, seeing none, headed out of town as stealthily as his size allowed.

The “swimming hole” was tiny lake fed by a small stream to the east of the village. A damn of rocks on the northern side kept the lake generally large enough for a dip, and allowed the adventurous to peek out over a small waterfall and 30-foot drop. For whatever reason, Puremist mushrooms tended to grow on the rock lip, and could be easily gathered by a swimmer. It was, however, still technically winter and a bit cold for swimming. After carefully looking around, Arn walked around the tiny lake to the cliff’s edge and the rock wall. Mushrooms could be seen, but none in reach from the shore.

Time to be stupid yet again. Hope it works out better, but what choice do I have? Arn slowly crawled along the rocky lip of the pool, doing his best to ignore sharp edges cutting into him, eventually edging to where he could reach a few mushrooms. After snagging a handful, he pondered how to clean himself without getting soaked.

A deep penetrating howl sent a shock through Arn. As he turned his head to the right, he noticed a huge dog-like creature covered in black bristles with a mouth full of fangs eyeing the rocky ledge. A warg! I am so screwed! At that moment, Arn’s right hand slipped, and after a solid 5 seconds of awkward flailing, Arn tumbled over the edge.

“Shiiiittt…” Arn yelled as he tumbled, completely oblivious to the rocky protrusion jutting out from the side of the cliff until it struck him in the back, shattering his ribs. Arn’s heart spasmed once and stopped. Black nothingness swallowed Arn’s world, as his lifeless body continued tumbling to the ground below.

ATTENTION: You have died.