You've always been my favorite nephew — young and spry! Oskar, my old bones rattle. I can hardly care for the Lush Pasture anymore... a shame! Such sprawling fields, ripe and bountiful! Perfect for a young lad as yourself. I will leave this peaceful homestead in your caring hands!

These barren lands are now wrecked by creeping sprouts!! They burst through the soil faster than I can cut them down! Vile things, spitting bile and brine! All the fields rot, and the decay spreads deeply... There's no saving the pasture! Blast it all! I'll start anew elsewhere. Pass it to Oskar, that fool. Never liked him much anyway. Snotty brat.