Wheatward

As the temple doors opened, sunlight shone in. Mogrul's eyes went wide and huge smile crossed his face.

"Wow! It's so big and lively! Look at all these people!"

Leif looked out at the little village before him and chuckled to himself at Mogrul's enthusiasm. Wheatward was by no means a city; it relied mainly on trade to the surrounding larger towns, cities, and the Capitol. The villagers would take their wheat and flour, occasionally some animals, and trade them for other goods that weren't readily available in town. It was a system that had always worked and allowed the people of Wheatward to live a simpler life on their own terms.

The capital city of Ivandril was called Ingersoll. From the throne in Ingersoll the royal family had ruled for 6 generations. The Dadrin family were just and fair rulers who treated their people fairly. They didnt impose heavy taxes on the poorer populace. They promoted the arcane arts to help the advancement of technologies. They didnt restrict religious practices to certain gods, instead allowing the people to choose who they worshiped. However, arguably one of the most impactful thing the Dadrin had done for it's people was reluctance to go to war with neighboring nations. This allowed the people of Ivandril to feel safe and secure in their homes and that security brought about a strong economy.

Wheatward had a main central part of town; which contained shops, temples, inns, and other such establishments. But, the majority of the people lived outside of town at their farms. The rest of the town had residential districts for the laborers and tradesmen.

Mogrul was absorbing the scenery is awe and couldn't believe all of the wonders around him.

'Its massive, there is so much to see!'

He turned back looking at Leif, joy beaming across his face.

"Father! This is amazing!"

"Yes child, but we dont have time to explore, we are expected at the Norris farm, and we have a ways to go yet."

And with that gentle reproach Mogrul composed himself and prepared for his journey into the great unknown.

It took the pair a large portion of the day to traverse the distance to the small farm. Farmer Norris was a stubborn old man who disliked the bustle of town and city life, so when staking his claim, had placed his farm as logistically far from town as reasonably possible. While this helped him and his family live a quieter life, it also kept them secluded and an easier target for bandits and the like.

The Norris Farm had been hit by a bandit raid roughly 3 years prior, and were just now getting back on their feet. Feeling more optimistic than usual, Old Man Norris had sent a rider to the Temple to request a blessing for his harvest. Leif was one of the clerics in the temple of The Dawnfather who could handle himself in most situations and make it out the other side relatively unharmed, so he was often sent to the further farms.

As the sun was nestling just under the edge of the horizon, the pair came within eye site of the Norris Farm. During their approach Leif looked down at Mogrul with a stern look.

"Now Mogrul, I have sheltered you from the hardships of the world you're entire life, but i feel there is something we must talk about now that you're older."

"Yes, Father?"

"You, my sweet child, are what we call a half orc. It is why you've always looked different than the other children in the temple. You're mother, Dawnfather light her soul, was a human. But you're father, he was an orc. Typically, humans view them are brutish and barbaric. However, I have learned over the years and through my travels that is just an out dated notion by people afraid of something different than them. Even with that being said, there will be those who are going to treat you differently because of your lineage."

"I don't understand. Why would they treat me different?"

"Because. You are different, and people are often afraid of things they do not know."

"What should I do then?"

"The only thing you can do, prove them they're wrong. Show them the error of their ways, and fight injustice as a shining Light of The Dawnfather."

"Yes Father."

Leif could tell Mogrul didnt fully grasp the entirety of their conversation. But it would have to do for now.

During the time they had talked, the little cottage had gotten closer and closer. Until, quite suddenly, they found themselves on the doorstep. Reaching out with his walking stick, Leif rapped on the door 3 times sharply.

TAP

TAP

TAP

From inside they heard the scrapping of wooden chair legs raking across a stone floor, some low grumbling, and the shuffling of feet.

From the other side of the door a low voice called out;

"Hurmph. What is it? Who's at the door?"

"Master Norris, it is Leif, from the Temple of The Dawnfather. May his light shine upon you."

Some low grumbling sounded again from the other side of the door.

"Give me a second Master Cleric."

The sound of a heavy wooden brace could be heard sliding from its place on the other side, followed by the door slowly swinging open.

"You're timing is impeccable Leif, I thought you was them damnes thieves back for more of my wheat and beans."

As he said this his eyes slowly made their way to the short figure standing next to the cleric.

"Huh. Whats a little orcling doing with you?"

"Ah. Well, you see, Mogrul here is my acolyte. Whom I'm trying to become a cleric when he comes of age. I figured it was time he got out and saw first hand what we do for the people."

A chuckle escaped the old farmers lips.

"Heh. Well, welcome little one. I'm Old Man Norris, but you can call me Norris." Turning to Leif he said, "Better not let the mayor see him. He hates the greenskins more than anyone I've ever seen. It could be trouble for you."

'Indeed it will be.' Leif thought to himself as he and Mogrul slowly shuffled into the humble cottage to take their nights rest after their travels.