The morning sun crept over the horizon, as if it was lingering between twilight and dawn. Many were asleep in their beds and cots, revelling in the long sought peace after The Grimleal, the putrid Risen and their fell deity Grima had ravaged the land. While families, noble and peasant alike dreamt the dreams they had hoped for in a restful bliss, one man was wide awake to greet the rays of light.

"This here land, I will cultivate in the name of Ylisse!" Proudly brandishing his hoe, Yorik, the young farmer looked upon the property he held claim to. Standing erect and proud the villager was draped in his working leathers, already soiled from his morning chores. York wore tanned leather pants and a white cotton fleece, his worn leather cloves grasped his farming tool tightly and his vibrant orange hair concealed in his bandana, already drenched in honest labouring sweat. It had been some time since Chrome and the Shepards had saved this humble hamlet, but the dedicated Yorik remembered as if it were the previous day. "I'll keep my promise to Lord Chrom, today is another day to do my best!" As the loyal labourer diligently ploughed the fields, the sun began to illuminate the rest of his property. Along the estate there were pastures for animals to graze upon, sheeps and horses were Yorik's and his families' assets. For produce, they were growing peas and wheat for the time being, their yield came quickly and in bulk to ship out among the community and all of Ylisse. This young farmer's dream was to do his best to aide his benefactor.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Yorik sprinkled a fresh bundle of seeds into the upturned earth. Content with his addition to the growing restoration plan the young farmer turned towards the barn, it was time to let the sheep and equine out. Leaning his tool atop his right shoulder, he began to casual stride towards the barn. A smile stretched across his face, the thought of the new crop of produce, the wool of the flock of sheep and the new working horse all contributing to Ylisse was all too much to bear. Yorik had reached his family barn, it's oaken doors were dyed with the age of the sun shiningup upon it for generations. This old barn had belonged to his grandfather, before even the late Exalted Emmeryn's tenure, the wood looked as sturdy and fortified as if it were newly built. Pride and gratitude filled Yorik's body as he reached his hand out to the padlock upon the door. Suddenly an unfamiliar sound hissed into his ears, a faint yet misplaced audible.

"<ugh...>" It was disembodied, almost an other worldy and harrowing moan, a lamentation of agony and discomfort. Yet in the quiet of this humble hamlet, the sound was so faint, it eerily slipped away only to return and renew the shivering sensation that it did not belong. Yorik froze. This was not something he had ever heard. Even the defiling Risen did not make such bemoaning noises, what ever was behind this door, presumably, was out of this realm.

"B-be brave, like Lord Chrom." Stuttered the trembling villager as he could only imagine what terror awaited him behind those doors. If neither his sheep nor horses were stirring the only plausible explination was that; whatever was making this hair raising noise had already silenced Yorik's beloved animals. His heart sank at the thought of losing his flock and steeds. Fiscal value aside, the dedicate farmer had worked tirelessly to raise them all, they too were his family. Suddenly, a spark of courage surged into his heart, the words of his saviour echoed in his spirit, lifting him into action. 

[i]"Serve those in need of our help."[/i]

The Exalted Hero's words reverberated in Yorik's mind, repeating and resonating with each repitition. Whatever dastardly villain had laid waste to his animal compainions had made an adversary this day. Clasping his hoe firmly and bracing himself, the farmer steeled his resolve for his ultimate confrontation. The unworldly being behind this door had not only robbed him, but robbed his family, the community and all of Ylisse of hope, by delaying the revitalization. The knave would know that the hoe was just as a deadly as a spear in the hands of this villager, a single swing would end the aggressors wretched existence. Inhaling deeply, Yorik was ready, his fangs bared. Shoving the door open, to confront the owner of the bone chilling moan, the loyal labourer let out a battle cry of his own.

[b]"FOR YLISSE!!!"[/b] With an earth shattering cry to meet the ghastly whisper of terror, Yorik burst into the barn, his eyes flared, muscles tense and arm ready to swing at the slightest provocation. In retaliation, the atmosphere greeted the humble villager with a cacophony of chaos. Hay flew in all directions, dirt was kicked up, wool was unturned, the prominent neigh if the horses bellowed out across the estate and the ever splitting cries of the sheep shattered mere mortals eardrums. It was an audio assault that drowned out the faint moan of the foreign entity. Yet the orchestra of confusion and bewilderment from the animals did not drown out poor Yorik's cry of surprise. [b]"UGH?! WAAAAAAAAAH!"[/b]

The shouts and disturbances was enough to awaken the entire village, storming into the front door came Yorik's family. His mother, matriarch of the lot, stormed in at the forefront. She wore a bonnet that was as white as her face, contorted with a mixture of confusion, anger and drowsiness. Her leather boots stomped furiously ever closer towards the now overturned Yorik. Her hands reached out, grappled her son and shook him profusely, raising him above her shoulders, emphasizing her mountainous form, in a dainty night gown.

"Boy! Why are you making such a ruckus in the morning?!" Livid with agitation, this reaction was all too natural for the family. The eldest sister in a similar sheen night gown yawned as her hair in curls sat neatly on her head. She had come out more to see her younger brother get scolded, more so than worry for his safety. From behind her legs, peered two sets of eyes, mirroring one another's movements. The twin brother and sister, the youngest of the four, giggled giddily the show of their older brother being reprimanded was their morning entertainment. 

"B-but Ma!!! I heard a sound!" Pleaded Yorik as he was helplessly dangled above his mother. "The sheep, and the horses!" The violent shaking was not aiding the explanation, nor was it desisting. The young farmer's weapon, his farming hoe lay out of reach, strewn along the ground, he was defenceless and without explanation. All he could do was desperately try to convince his family, mainly his mother, that they were in the vicinity of his mortal enemy. "I'm telling ya Ma! I heard a sound, it was other worldly!" Pointing aimlessly at the direction opposite of the door. All eyes looked in the general area, Yorik still dangled above his mother's shoulders, but at least his turbulence stopped. For a brief unified moment, the entire family looked upon a stack of hay, but the silence was interrupted by the unearthly moan.

"<ughhhhhhhh.....>" The wretched agony almost justified the young farmer's actions, if not for the person it came from. Suddenly, the family broke out into a spectrum of noise. The twins giggled profusely, holding their sides and rolling on the floor, their pajamas collecting dust as they jittered in sync. The eldest sister placed her hands on her hips and sighed loudly, then turned on her heels and galloped back to bed, her entertainment was over. Yorik's heart sank yet again, as he realized his blunder, albeit an honest one. Meanwhile, his mother wa not nearly as jovial. Her face went from sheet white to hot tomato red.

[b]"YOU FOOL!"[/b] Was all she could utter as she hurled her son into the stack of hay, next to the agonized moaning. Sighing, as he lay in the stale bundle of dry grass he looked to his nemesis, the cause of this fiasco.

"<sigh...> You're still here sir? I thought you left a fortnight ago!" The moaning continued, accompanied by the all too familiar roar of a hungry stomach. The stranger looked into the eyes of the humble farmer, grasped his shoulder weakly and uttered his over dramatized request.

"<ugh...> I Ross, the son of The Great Garcia, will not be defeated by this hunger....." Letting out another sigh, to forget his foolishness of the day, Yorik looked to his animals, all were accounted for and were calmly watching Ross, with keen interest. Chuckling at his misunderstanding and missgivings, the loyal labourer reached out and slung Ross' hulking behemoth arm over his shoulder. The Beserker was a mountain of muscle and was not easy to lift, nor was the silver axe he gripped tightly. Clothed with only a weapon and blue cotton pants, this traveler would be impossible to move alone. Yet Yorik could not leave him, he was compelled to help Ross, just as he was the two weeks before when the stranger stumbled on their estate. Scratching his head, Yorik would try a different approach.

"Since you're back again Sir Ross, why not join us for breakfast?" Those were the magic words, or rather the one word that related to food. In a heartbeat Ross was on his feet, the mighty axe secured on his back and his long strides heading out the door, a bright smile gleaming like the sun spread across his face. 

"Thank you kindly!" Sighing and chuckling, Yorik led his animals out of the barn, following the Beserker out to the family home. This would be a long day.