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Use 2: It opens up space for decorating your cozy home.
Also, if you've made a camp on rocky turf and want to plant grass/twigs/trees, you need to remove some turf first.
"Not everyone is born with a blessed silver sword. Not everyone needs one either."
The pitchfork... It is a weapon for the oppressed, the underdogs, the ones left behind. Nobles have swords, Soldiers have spears, barbarians have axes- the pitchfork is the peoples weapon. An improvised trident, a sliver of hope in a moment of desperation- it is a weapon to be used when all else is lost. Forged from whatevers available, handed out to anyone who will take it, used either for the greater good of production, or the dark descent of slaughter. A guns only purpose for existing is to kill- this does not apply to pitchforks, given a productive use, it has slid into society in such a way that people underestimate its true strengh. Inpecibile in reach, threefold and sometimes fourfold in devices of piercing, and unstopable in numbers. In trained hands, the pitchfork is a weapon of mass destruction. Not just a solitary pitchfork, but a concept. A concept that everyone has that power, the power to create Order and Chaos out of the bare bones of reality- no matter how beaten down, or depressed anyone can get- they always have that power to stand, and unite against those against them, no matter the odds. The use of a Pitchfork is this, to cultivate and sustain life- or to retaliate and take life. The only way it can work though- either way, is that many are used in numbers. Strength of the pack. Birds of a feather. A unified struggle. To achieve the Pitchforks infinite potential though, a leader is required to unite the stragglers. Someone who is willing to sacrifice themself entirely for his cause, understand everyone under his command like a brother- and capable of restraining his cause where and whenever unneccisary. Such a shame such a hero doesn't exist. Only a true matyr can fuel the true passion of the pitchfork concept, and even then- the cause is doomed to collapse upon itself, whether it succeeds or not. I carry the pitchfork in hope that others will realise its potential, and use it for the greater good- such a vain hope. I am nothing but a shard of truth in a void of suffering- so the question remains. What will you do when fires start? The Forkborn prepare for the inevitable.
*Walks out, leaving Pitchfork by the door*