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Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

If one was to stare at the large village of PureHaven, they would find a mass of oak houses, arranged in such a peculiar method that it would look as if a child spilled their building blocks all over the floor. The grass was a pleasant shade of dark green this time of year in Pure Valley. The mountains cascaded over the tiny village, their mighty peaks touching the clouds. A watcher would also see a fair-skinned, brown haired boy wandering through the streets, wooden sword in hand, slashing imaginary enemies. Should they take a gander inside his imagination, they would see he was defeating a great wall of orcs, wishing him nothing but death. But, however, his imagination was not reality, so it simply appeared he was slashing at the air like a madman. However, like all mornings, he would soon be forced to give up his great battle and attend school. As the morning bell sounded, the boy unhappily placed his sword down and picked up his backpack. For this boy had a name registered, and this name was Abran. He unhappily went through the school day, completing assignments, and occasionally chatting with friends. Little did he know how much his fate would change in one day.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

If one was to stare at the large village of PureHaven, they would find a mass of oak houses, arranged in such a peculiar method that it would look as if a child spilled their building blocks all over the floor. The grass was a pleasant shade of dark green this time of year in Pure Valley. The mountains cascaded over the tiny village, their mighty peaks touching the clouds. A watcher would also see a fair-skinned, brown haired boy wandering through the streets, wooden sword in hand, slashing imaginary enemies. Should they take a gander inside his imagination, they would see he was defeating a great wall of orcs, wishing him nothing but death. But, however, his imagination was not reality, so it simply appeared he was slashing at the air like a madman. However, like all mornings, he would soon be forced to give up his great battle and attend school. As the morning bell sounded, the boy unhappily placed his sword down and picked up his backpack. For this boy had a name registered, and this name was Abran. He unhappily went through the school day, completing assignments, and occasionally chatting with friends. Little did he know how much his fate would change in one day.