Choosing a path

Farming is backbreaking work - an endless grind of toil for very little reward. Your father is perfectly content with it, believing that if it was good enough for his father and his father’s father, then it’s good enough for him and, most certainly, for you. He’s never been a particularly imaginative man, too dull to dream of anything greater or to muster the ambition to be more than a farmer.

You, however, are different. You inherited your mother’s curiosity and ambition. You want more from life - to see the world, to carve out a name for yourself, to die as something greater than another nameless farmer in some forgotten backwater village.

For now, though, you do as you’re told: backbreaking labor from dawn to dusk under your father’s orders and your "wicked" stepmother’s sharp supervision.

“Why do you always work me so hard?” you groan, your shirt long since discarded as you toil under the hot sun. Sweat drips down your chest as you catch Isolde watching you with a curious expression. “The field isn’t going anywhere. Not even my father is this strict!”

“Because we all have our duties,” Isolde replies, crossing her arms beneath her ample bosom - a sight you can’t help but notice. You’re a boy of flesh and blood, after all. “A wife’s duty is to clean, cook, satisfy her husband’s needs at night, bear his children, and raise them. I’m doing my part very well, in case you hadn’t noticed. You, however, are slacking off. Your mind is wandering when it should be focused on farm work.”

“Trust me, dearest stepmother, my mind is incredibly focused right now,” you say with an innocent smile, though your eyes linger a moment too long, enjoying the view of her heavy bosoms, wondering how they would feel in your hands. “I’m entirely consumed by thoughts of huge tracts of land,” you hum a tune with mock seriousness, “and there’s nothing I want more right now than to sow seeds in proven, fertile fields.”

“Then get back to work,” Isolde snaps, rolling her eyes, though a hint of pink colors her cheeks.

When the sun finally sets, you’re free to do as you please. You put down the farming tools and visit -

A. the local Church of Healos.

B. blacksmith Braun who prays to Inferna.

C. the village inn where merchants and adventures rest.

D. the half-mad mage who lives outside the village.

E. your father who makes offerings to Faelorn for fertility.

F. the part of the forest where your mother was found dead.