Another day of labor, another day for a failed harvest. Donny sighed as he leaned against his shovel, looking at the field before him. He's been working on this farm since he was a small boy, but now he was the only one left to take care of it. His father was drafted off to war, his mother dead from disease, frankly the whole village was close to collapsing. Their local lord was far too power hungry for his own good, taking more than half of the male population to go fight some meaningless battle that Donny wasn't even aware of. Bandits and monsters ravage the countryside but all the militia are gone, and anyone with sense has long since fled for the safety of the cities. Only Donny and a few other brave fools are left. And even he was considering leaving at some point.
All he had was this land and a hut he called home. He supposed that he should be grateful for what he has, but he wasn't sure how long it'd last him. Just two days ago one of his neighbor's got raided. He took down seven men before he was killed, but even then his home was robbed, his lands defiled, and now no one was there to make it arable. Donny wondered how long before his time was up too. As he thought about it he looked off to the valley. Before her death his mother would always tell him about the fairies and spirits in the valley that could help him, so long as he was a good boy. He really wondered if he has earned that right, assuming that it wasn't just a tale told to him to keep Donny on his best behavior.
Still better then sitting around doing nothing. Today's work was done and there was still some sunlight out left before night. The forest was dangerous but he was no coward and besides that, he had some militia training. At the very least his shovel was much more deadly than most would realize. So Donny went inside his home and dressed for some traveling. A thick fur coat for warmth, and a wooden shield for protection. He took a short blade in case he needed to cut through some brush and a shortbow if he happened to find anything worth hunting. He hung a lantern on his belt for light and finally grabbed his shovel; his trusty tool and most reliable weapon. Finally he packed some snack for the trip, a loaf of
sweet bread made by one of his neighbors and a skin full of water. With everything packed Donny left his home to head to the valley temple.
"Maybe I'll be lucky and find some fairies or something."