I did say that heroes come from humble origins. Well, my humility will be the stuff of myth. Those bandit left me with nothing but ten thaler, my clothes, my Erik, and my Fanny. And I know what you’re thinking. Rutger, wouldn’t a hero have murdered those poor bandits? Wasn’t it cowardly to spare their lives?
Prudence, my friend, is what separates captains from flotsam. If I had shot them all there would be a chance–however slim–that they would have shot back.
No–this was the correct choice to ensure I survive to be commemorated. This is how a legend begins: by surrendering to bandits. Then, running away.
You will tell no one.
After some happy hours trekking across the unmilled Polish countryside, I am delighted to find A Town. I believe it has a name. More directly relevant to my personal fortune, it has a Warlord.

Continue reading 〉〉 “Master of Firin’ Sword CH2: Pole to Pole”
T w e n t y S i d e d

