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After filling his belly with roasted rats he caught and seasoned he snacks on small pieces of the bread loaf. The bread Galmairs witch gave him now soaked in blood from storing with the uncooked cleaned rats reminded him of the taste he first had woken up to the dark world. The hobo laid down drifting off to sleep, any sleep he found before was peaceful filled with the beauty of the glowing mushrooms he once called friend. Now such dreams turned strange seeing a life he couldn't remember have living. The Man he was in the dream couldn't be him that man seemed to clean for one and had the respect many people. Visions past the hobo in the night the tall dark man commanding an army,seeing fires and dragons. Undead creatures attacking yet the man never turn and ran. Troubled by the dreams he tries to go back to the sample things he knew how to do catch, kill, and skin the rat's to live.

After he was told not to leave the town he ventured out to the town of Cadomyr. He was warned that i he looked like a known criminal to that town, but what reason did he have to fear he wasn't the person they wanted. He seen that person die whether that was real or a dream he couldn't remember know. the Hobo wandern into the desert city and awed at the glassware they sold in the market. Cautiously he walked up to a pair trading by one of the strange golden chest, he didn't like the lizard man he saw but not knowing why sold all the small rat pelts he had to it. Receiving the 10 sliver for the 38 pelts he traveled back to Galmair, and after talking the a few towns folk who questioned him he crawled back down the well to sleep. Once again his belly was full and he ate more of the bread before sleep took him. Dreams have became entertainment of sorts for him, but this night the dream seemed more horrible than he could think. The tall man whom he so looked like was grasping at life as he laid dying in his bed. a familiar yet creepy looking dwarf came to his side and give him medicine that cured him.

The Life he dreamed scared him to his core every time someone called him the dead mans name his head ached. He saviored the bread the witch gave him but after a long tall with a woman whom seem to know the dead man, the dream man well enough to have called him a friend. The Hobo when't to his resting place in the well laid by the fire and ate all of the remaining bread and back to a life he wanted to remember.

The dark abyss wrapped him in a chilling cold "Brawndara" echoed as a whisper, pain engulfed his mind. "Brawndara" that name both relaxed him and caused such pain. The fog of his mind slowly seemed to clear as it lightly drifted to the abyss. Memories flew back into him all the pain, the suffering, the joy, and the pleasant time spent with others. He remembered his place and purpose his cause had not ended even thou he had for a year forgot.

He opened his eyes and looked around the room the torch light illuminated the muck and vermin that covered the place. Disgusted he awoke to a version of himself he hadn't known in years, the taste of the blooded bread lingered on his tongue. A bath was much needed and his affaires needed to get put back in order. He was sure by now the army had fell apart and much that was expected of him had now been lost. I have been lost a year and yet still i hear the mutterings of war. I warned them all and now its time to deal with a problems that continued.