CupcakeBro

As many tales of this nature tend to do, Tobias Tasimoss' Story begins in a manner most mundane and only gets more complicated overtime.

However, before we indulge in the happenings of our young Toby's Life, I believe a bit of context is in order.

The year of our beginning is 1645, a date only notable in History for its relative proximity to the migration to the land of Atlas. Amongst the many famillies travelling to this uncharted place were two considerably wealthy and equally easy-going farmers, this craft of theirs combined with their love and desire for a rural life technically making them closest fitting to the Highlanders though the similarities stop there, whom went seeking for a peaceful place to settle down and raise the child who might one day become the heir of his family's farm. Fortunately for the both of them, such a place proved rather easy to find in the new world, and soon the couple found themselves owners of a cozy abode just in time for their group of two to grow into three.

The youngun was named Tobias and as early as the age of four he began showing all the signs of a child who most disresembled his parents. Unlike his father, to who he had been so similar in looks, Tobias was seemingly getting more curious and adventurous by the month, strongly clashing with Tasimoss Senior's considerably more 'Live and let live' approach to life, a motto he never failed to repeat at every possible opportunity to the great annoyance of his wife who, herself, shared similar philosophies though she wasn't nearly as obsessed with upholding them. This dynamic made for a rather animated household to grow up in. However, though these were wonderful people for a child to grow up with, it changed nothing to the increasingly adventure-thirsty and easily bored personality Tobias was developping and his growing undeniable difference from his parents. This resulted in a child who's life simply became too mundane for his adventurous tendencies. Indeed, nothing in our young Tobias' early life could possibly indicate that things would be any the more exciting than the daily drill he was used to. As you'd expect, it wasn't a very fun drill. Day in, day out, the same pattern of waking up on a hard bed, helping his father around the crops or the animals, punctuated by three hefty and admittedly delicious meals a day before laying down to wake up on the same, none the softer, bed the next morning. Life was undeniably dull. This is perhaps the direct cause for the only salvation in Tobias' existance at the time: Books. Indeed, mayhaps because he couldn't experience thrill personally, he stole himself to living it through fiction. Before long the Tasimosses' so tranquil livelyhood was assaulted by daily reenactments of whatever latest Fable their child had finished reading. Wooden swords and paper armour, mounts and creatures sculpted out of moldy trunks or mighty fortresses of blankets and pillows soon became a common sight in and around the Tasimoss Abode. Young Toby, all the way to age eleven, lived in nothing but blissful fantasy of his own creation. By age twelve, as childhood began to transition into teenage and all the more extravagant shows of a bursting imagination subsided, he began to close in on himself. Not out of any particular sudden wave of depression but rather simply because, as he grew out of pillowforts and wooden swords to make way for the more organized thoughts of an adult man, his previous eccentricity had no longer the energy and playful tendencies of a child to express itself into, and therefore the wonder that he still felt from those Tales he still read with equal avidity developped and matured inward rather than out, giving the outward appearence of a quiet young man with little desire other than to read. Perhaps if he had an outlet, another person sharing his interests, things would of evovled different. But alas, the lone abode of the Tasimosses, still as uninterested as ever in these frivelous adventures, allowed for the only remaining person worthy of discussing with to be himself. This succession of events also made for a Tobias that grew to be quite self-sufficient and independant, he found that beeing in the sole company of himself was not so bad afterall and no drive to seek anyone else ever bloomed within him. Of course, you must not let yourself be fooled into thinking that this made him incapable of communicating, quite the opposite, many who would meet him would describe him as a jolly and well-spoken young man, quite impressive in his eloquence he no doubt picked up over years of literature. The simple, and yet seemingly so hard to understand for those to whom he attempted to explain, fact was that he much preferred the comfort of his own mind to interaction with others. This caused him to become rather irritable and tired when forced into large discussions for too long a time. Therefor, all the way until the most fateful day in any man's life, the day of his eightteenth birthday, he favoured time spent alone in the Abode Library. Just the right conditions for an idea to bloom. Born from the desire for adventure he had carried all his existance and fueled by the unsatisfying circumstances of his life, this idea had grown within him going from unlikely fantasy to a desire that consumed him beyond anything else until, on that most fateful day, he could put it off no more. His parents, who had long since abandonned the hope that he might eventually become the heir of the Farm, took better than expected to his announcement, and in less than two weeks, he was packed and ready for the Journey he had dreamed of half his life. That day, the day of his eightteenth birthday, Tobias Tasimoss left the Abode promising to return only when he had seen the whole entire world.