Imperfectionist

I was born to a family of shepherds as the youngest of three sons. From a young age, my father taught me to rear sheep for their wool, milk, and meat. I grew attached to the animals that I cared for daily.  As such, when my father eventually asked me to slaughter a sheep, I did so reluctantly. I felt disgusted with myself. One day, while my brothers and I were herding the sheep to water, a wolf attacked us. I was bitten on my left forearm, but my eldest brother came to my rescue and fended off the wolf. That was also the day I learned that my family lived within the realm of the Empire of Renatus. My father fetched the local guardsmen to hunt that wolf. At the time, my brothers and I were awestruck by the soldiers, but that would not last. As the years came by, life in the Empire grew increasingly more dangerous. First the Emperor’s men came for some sheep to feed them for an upcoming campaign; my father left with them to earn the money to buy enough sheep to begin a new flock, but he never returned. I later learned that he was struck down by an Elven arrow.  Nevertheless, we toiled and recouped our losses--then the War of the Two Emperors began. Our lands fell within the control of Godfrey III, and though he brilliantly won the opening battles of the war, we paid the price. My brothers left home fight for the rightful emperor, leaving my mother and I to tend to our lands. The Emperor’s men came once more, taking every last sheep we had, and we couldn’t do anything lest be branded traitors. My mother didn’t last the winter. I buried her outside our home. Come the following spring, I left my home for the first time. There was nothing left for me there.