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Death Song

Dear Mom,

I'm glad I've finally had some free time to write to you. Would you believe that when I first joined up, the recruiter thought I didn't know how? Sometimes these city folk got a lot of nerve making assumptions about people that grew up on farms, I've had to learn that first hand just by the folks I'm currently bunking with. They're all mostly from the capitol or another Zalan city. I think I'm the only one here from a small village, so I've been saddled with the nickname "farmboy". Ha ha.

Despite this nick, I get along with most of the people here. The drill sergeant is mean, but luckily I haven't had to suffer the full brunt of his wrath, which is more than can be said for a few of the people here. That's never pretty.

Boot camp is very tough. Even tougher than working on the farm. I'm just glad its half-way over. They took my lute away as soon as I entered. I really should've known better to take it with meĀ…but I dunno I thought I'd be able to practice it on what few breaks I have. Oh well, I guess I wasn't ever going to be that traveling bard anyway. Just foolish dreams I suppose.

Anyway we're going to start bow training tomorrow. I think I should do very well in that.

Okay, I can't think of anything else. I hope everything is going well on the farm. I know you've always kept an eye on all of us, but make sure that Mallack pays extra attention on the chicken coop this month. The Kobolds come out a lot around this time!

Give my love to the rest of the family.

Your son

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