Gilligan had opened his window blinds so that the sun reaching the horizon would stream in and wake him. That's how Godwin always woke himself in the morning. However years of sleeping in wasn't as easy to break as he thought, and dispute his efforts the sun was well into the sky by the time Him woke himself. He sat on the corner of his bed and rubbed his neck for a few moments before getting dressed. He wore a simple homespun tunic, workmens trousers, and a wool vest and cap to keep away the morning chill. "When dad went off gods know were, why did he take all the cool stuff!" Gilligan complained to himself. "Damn, I look like any old village idiot." he thought while lacing his boots. He went to leave his room when he looked back and saw his closet. The one Oculus was stored in.

"Maybe... Maybe lifting the sword everyday was metaphorical? Ya some magical Shit about dealing without him every day. Ya that's it." Gil told himself as he went to retrieve the blade. He opended the doors and grabbed the hilt of the massive sword... And imminently plummeted to the earth under its weight.

"Okay," he panted as the fall nocked the breath from him, "Not...a metaphor." he grabbed the closet door to pull himself up, only to find it not as steady as he thought, bringing it and it's contents spilling onto the floor and banging his knee. And thus our hero surveyed the destruction he wrought, "That's... I'll clean it up later." he said to the empty room.

He had boiled a dozen eggs the night before and ate 3 of them for breakfast, he wrapped the others in a cloth along with an Apple and stuck tied the bundle to the hilt of the sword he bought the other day. For how little he spent on it his new sword wasn't that bad, despite the iron being melted down from old farm equipment. Still what passes for a weapon in Roselake was a heavy stuck or club, he should count himself lucky the blacksmith had made the sword as a hobby piece. He put the bastard blade the scabbard over his shoulder. 

And thus armed with a sword made from a hoe, a rusty set of skill, his wits, and his lunch, our hero sets out to sow his own legend and more importantly, make rent.

[center][b]5 minutes Later[/b][/center]

Our hero returns home having forgot his barrel shield and lantern.

[center][b]2 hours later[/b][/center]

Gilligan arrived at the a set of ruins, about a mile off the main road. The ruins was a stone hut built over a trap door. The dungeon belonged to the Warlock Godwin had slain years ago. People could only hazard a guess as to what was down there. Traps? Monsters? Demons? But what Gilligan was hoping for above all else, a big shiny pile of gold. 

Godwin had never cleared the dungeon, he said he was saving it for Gilligan, as his first test and an opportunity to explore and face his past. That's all well and good but right now all Gil was worried about was paying the bills.

And so he lit his lantern, opened the trap door, and descended into the darkness.