Isaac was born to a reclusive family in a settlement just past the reach of Orenian authority. His parents were peasants who sought out more freedom for themselves, which led them to the shabby subsistence farm where he was raised. And though Isaac’s parents thought of themselves as being in much better shape away from civilization, they weren’t the brightest or bravest folk. They knew very little agriculture and hardly squeaked when crooks came by to demand a portion of the harvest. By the time Isaac was walking, multiple groups had laid claim to the majority of the farm’s produce. His family was left with the blemished scraps and whatever insects were dull enough to be caught in order to survive.
Throughout all of his youth, Isaac was left malnourished and weak. His skin stretched itself thin against all of his bones, his intestines began to swell, and his eyes nearly seemed to be squeezed from their sockets. Yet the thieves were content to exploit the family’s cowardice until they dropped dead, which was precisely what happened. During the most frigid winter the family endured, it seemed certain that they would all die from cold or starvation. Isaac’s parents opted for the former. They instructed the boy–then a young adult of eighteen–to go to sleep in their shabby cabin, and to eat whatever meat was outside in the morning. Isaac found their corpses within an arm’s reach of the door when the sun rose. When the bodies were fully consumed and the ice at last began to thaw, Isaac had nothing left but to venture out into the realm.
Isaac initially flinches at the attention. His gaze flicks up and down along the man's attire, and he begins slowly grasping and ungrasping his walking stick. "No, I--you shouldn't be speaking to me. I don't have money. I hardly have anything to wear. You'll soil your reputation being seen speaking to a..." The little fellow sighs and drops his head. He then perks up a bit and pauses, briefly chewing on his lip. "I... I don't suppose you'd be offering some charity to such an unfortunate man?"
Isaac began squinting at the gentleman, who might've seemed quite short for words as he looked more closely at the grotesque lad in front of him. Isaac sighed and shook his head. "No, no, of course you wouldn't give charity. Not to some bothersome cretin. But if you could point out any sort of teacher, that would be more than enough."
And as soon as the gentleman had regained the wherewithal to answer Isaac's request, the stunty fellow shuffled off in that direction.

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