As a young orphan Virgil, who was often picked on for his name, loved the stories of Heroes. He wanted nothing more than to become one himself. To see the world, to save people in need, to partake in great battles, to have the bullies who picked on him speak his name in awe. And then he grew up…Growing up in a rural farming community doesn’t leave a lot of time for dreams. The years passed and Virgil forgot his childish fantasies. He worked hard to earn his keep and even taught himself to count. He grew up to be a good and honest man, with dreams more reasonable to the world around him. Not to spend his life in poverty. Not to starve to death. Not to die in the cold of winter. Not to die of disease. Not to get murdered by beasts or bandits. Such and so forth.The problem with an open prayer to become a Hero, is that unless you pray to cancel the request, they still have your name on the list. Fate, much like the gods that have held that affinity over the ages, has a terrible sense of humor.