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About 2 months later, our hero was finally healed up, and he took off his bandages. Our hero went to go see the old man, who's name, which he had heard from a monk in the village, was Yodle.

Our hero knocked on a rather large hut's door. Our hero heard what sounded like an OK to come in. As our hero reached to push open the door, it opened on its own power. "Weird." Our hero entered cautiously, and the door behind him slammed shut. Our hero reached for his sword, only to realize it was no longer there.

"Why the startled face? Ahahaha. Have a seat, my boy.", a particularly old voice said.

Our hero looked around for a seat in the darkness, to no avail, until a candle was lit. Our hero soon found a peculiar looking couch made out of some type of a plant. "Not too particularly comfortable, but it'll do.", muttered our hero muttered to himself.

"So, I assume you are here to be trained, correct?"

"That's right, old man."

"Old man? That's elder, sonny."

"Fine, elder, I'm here to train under you."

"Ah, very well. I assume you want to learn Da Farce, eh?

"Uh-huh." Our hero gently nodded.

The elder laughed. "Hahaha! Do you expect me to train a novice like yourself in Da Farce?"

"Novice- why you little runt..." Our hero was angered, and in turn, picked up a nearby broadsword, and lashed out at the elder. The elder evaded the attack with ease, and latched onto our hero's neck with a clamping device.

"Ckckckkqqqkqkk...Let me g...kkkksos...."

The elder kicked away our hero.

"Now settle yourself, hot head. I don't train ovens."

Our hero picked himself up off of the ground.

"Now, this way."

The elder opened a door.

"Go on. I shall meet with you inside."

Our hero stepped through the doorway, and saw a beautiful forest. It was large. Very large.

"This is where you will hone your combat skills for the next year. If they are better than mine in one year, I shall train you in Da Farce. Otherwise, you will keep training until they are better than mine. Got it?"

Our hero nodded, and the path behind them closed off.

Yodle pulled out a wooden staff, and threw one to our hero.

Our hero would train for the next year or so, learning to become a combat master.