It was a chill evening when the poor slave boy Swift was finally released. The air crystallized by his breath and floated towards the heavens. All his life he had been a captive of the evil Autistic Screeching Slaving co. and after 18 years of servitude he was finally free. Swift was one of the lucky captives, having a chastity belt installed upon him at birth - this prevented the more aggressive slave owners from using him, as they did other slave boys. Instead, Swift was put to work in the fields, picking cotton and flax for his master's garments.

Stefan had been a good master to Swift, as good as a master could be. He had been a sort of surrogate father to the lost lad and taken it upon himself to impress his life choices into the boy. The lasting impact of this "education" would be seen later, as Swift now possessed several valuable skills to aid him in his journey. First, he had to find a way to get this damn belt off. Leaving home with the sparse 250 shekels he owned, he vowed to find someone to free him. "Cuckistan was the nearest town and should have a blacksmith," Swift thought to himself, "hopefully he wont jew me out of all my shekels." Coin purse jingling and with a little hop and a skip he set off down the long road to freedom.

The journey was taking far longer than expected, as Swift was small of stature and easily winded by exertion. Setting up camp alongside the road, he made a pitiful lean-to with some scavenged sticks and the dirty rags he called clothes. Huddling naked and afraid inside his pile of garbage, Swift perked up at the sound of voices coming down the path.