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  1. General

    1. New Member Guide   (1,173 visits to this link)

    2. Water Cooler

      Advertise your roleplay here or browse the advertisements other members have posted. Off-site advertisements are not allowed.

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  2. Terrenus

    1. Terrenus Roleplay Information

      The birthplace of magitech and home to savage wilds and cities of monsters, Terrenus marries elements of fantasy and science fiction to present a unique science fantasy setting. It is ruled by Odin Haze, king to the people and Saint of Gaianism, and managed by the military. Use this board to find information on artifacts, quests, bounties, and more.

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    2. Cities of Terrenus

      Use this board to roleplay in any one of the major cities of Terrenus, from the trade center of Casper to the technological wonder of Hell's Gate. Big cities are tags you can apply to threads, and smaller properties are pinned threads that you can add as a text tag in your thread title.

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    3. Wilds of Terrenus

      Explore the savage wilds of Terrenus, including magical forests, frozen tundras, high mountains, plains and islands. Use this board to roleplay in any of the landmark areas of the nation.

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  3. Genesaris

    1. Genesaris Roleplay Information

      The birthplace of airships and land of bounty hunters supports anything from science fantasy to steampunk to medieval roleplay, the land of Genesaris is diverse in race and religion, awaiting your exploration. Indulge in the lore – from the national flag to nationwide events – of the largest continent of Valucre.

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    2. Kingdoms of Genesaris

      Take an airship or use any means at your disposal to travel to the sprawling cityscapes of Genesaris, from the perpetual darkness of Saint Desolatus to the great Carmine Empire. Visit the capitals of each land, or create and discover mysterious new villages and towns unlisted on the map.

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    3. Orisia Isle

      A beautiful, tropical island nation, Orisia is commonly referred to as the Island of Summer. An embodiment of peace, equality, and balance, this small country off the eastern coast of Genesaris prides itself on diversity and cherishes its many inhabitants.

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  4. Renovatio

    1. Renovatio Roleplay Information

      Information about the roleplay setting Renovatio, including Alterion

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    2. Kingdoms of Renovatio

      Renovatio is a collection of floating landmasses created in the First Cycle of Creation by their abstract cosmic God-King, AV. Combining many unique cultures, Renovatio offers a diverse and exciting experience for all players.

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  5. Other

    1. Alternative

      Any type or genre of RP that does not fit within the Valucre canon can go here. Must still abide by Code of Conduct. 

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    • Prowling the skies, Zenahriel was home at last. Tilting his wings to catch the brisk wind that roamed over the Red City, he watched the citizens of Umbra. Unaware of his vigilant, guarding eyes, they went about their daily business – merchants and mercenaries, hired hands and help, all comprised of nonhumans and humans in great numbers. Soon the streets would be crowded with activity and profit before falling back into a quiet night, when the vampyres would awake and conduct their own peaceful business. Umbra was by no means a perfect kingdom, but from this high up, one could not see the flaws in the tranquility achieved here between the countless races of the world. Dipping lower and away from the rising warming sun, Zenahriel flew to investigate the less populated grounds of Umbra. It was exceedingly rare to find any trouble there, but he liked to look upon the gardens of Ivory Square. The colorful array of flowers growing there gave peace and a little bit of joy to his heart, and this early in the morning it was often unoccupied, and sometimes, even he liked to feel perfectly alone. This time, it appeared, would be different. Seeing the pair long before they might see him, Zenahriel felt the odd sensation of power and blood he did not recognize. It was calm, and so he was not yet alarmed, but still he was wary, for time and past experience taught him that beings who wielded even small amounts of power could grow fickle and then fierce. It would not do, not today and not ever, to harm the gardens and any citizens who sought refuge in them. Thus, he swooped low and slow over the heads of the pair, letting his shadow linger but for half a second over them. It was a gesture to let them know he was here, that he saw them, that they were warned. But it was also a gesture to let them know he did not intend to attack in stealth, as long as they returned the same courtesy. He landed a few meters in front of them, his feet touching lightly upon the ground. His wings swept over the heads of the flowers and blooms, the feathers black as midnight shadows. The tips of the primaries and secondary feathers flashed in the morning light, for each one had been carefully bleached and then dipped in gleaming gold. He wore a backless tunic, also black but embroidered in bright blue and silver down the chest, matching loosely fitting slacks that fell around tighter, laced boots. He straightened, examining the pair, one of who was armored, the other in richer attire. Both were quite catching in appearance, one of whom was beautiful… and the one who felt so strange. It was unlikely Rafael did not know they were here, but his lack of personal appearance made it clear he expected Zenahriel to greet them, and deal with any wants they might display… or trouble they might give. He hoped it was not the latter. He stepped forward, spread one wing while the other curved around his body in the manner of an elegant cloak, and bowed. “My greetings to you. I am Zenahriel Zacharias, An’She of Umbra, Second in Command and proud Mate to His Majesty, Emperor Rafael. To whom do I have the honor of addressing?”
    • Rou's honey-gold irises followed the reflection of Zenahriel to the hearth, and while he'd taken obvious strides not to exhort her with too strict a tone, she could see the faint displeasure in his face as the soft ember glow danced upon it.  With a heaving sigh, which relieved absolutely none of the tension that gathered in the An'She's shoulders, the black-haired vixen pinched the bridge of her nose, nursing the growing headache.  "I know that-- Don't you think I know that?" Rou snapped tersely, recalling the events in the throne room, which she'd promptly taken out on her hair.  Her anger was misdirected at Zenahriel, though she'd been too taken to offer apologies.  Before leaving from Umbra, Rou had already felt like she'd had one foot in the grave, and the other was starting to slip.  The Carmine Dominion's only human An'She had made great strides in ambassadorship, but in standing across from her mortal enemy, Rou had nearly devolved into the seething serpent of spite and fire she was of yesteryear.  This summit had been in the name of change, and Rou wasn't helping it. "You're probably the only person in all of Genesaris who doesn't know of our feud, maybe all Valucre," she groused, as one did not obtain the reputation of enemy to the Black Queen lightly.  Irene Gabriela Du'Grace was loved and admired even far beyond her borders, championed as the porcelain queen of innocence, chivalry, and star-crossed love; hers was the love story told by romantic paramours, mothers to their children, heralds that boasted good news to incite the fealty to the crowns amidst the dreary days of the gentry.  With Rou's reputation, it was hardly an exaggeration that she had become the villain in the world's eyes.  Beyond the oversimplified public recount, Rou would claim she hadn't been every bit as vile as they'd made her out to be... nor Gabriela as happy, as judged by their recent crossings.  A happy wife wasn't what Rou witnessed at Kadia's grand wedding.  Even with strides towards coming to terms, it still came unnaturally for Rou to empathize with the Black Queen. With a small bit of guilt weighing heavy on her, she again weighed the probability of success.  It wouldn't ride on her affection for her liege, though in truth, Rou had never intended it to be. Her winged confidante had come to take the brush from her, wielding it with a much more delicate hand.  Frustrated, she deflected with a begrudging scoff, and sat up straight for him, complicit as he ran comfortingly through her locks.  The pressure was weighing down heavy upon her, even moreso as his eyes caught her poignantly on the vanity mirror; she could not leave him in the dark any further.  There was so much riding on this, so much bigger than herself. Reaching her hand to her crown, she paused Zenahriel's stroke of the brush, withdrawing from her hair, and stood.  Taking it from him (reminding herself to do so gently), she placed it upon the vanity, and instead took up his hands folded in hers.  Rou was alarmingly human, in a world filled with beings that dwarfed her presence the way the moon outshone a simple lone meteor, passing and fleeting, but her resolve was that of the sun.  The situation was dire, and the fire in Rou's eyes burned with exceeding courage, for she could spare none. "Zenahriel, know that I do not do this lightly..." she confessed, and on they talked through the morning...   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   Rou's ankle dropped up and down with impatience, bouncing her foot as one knee crossed over the other.  Poising her elbow on the arm of a white dining chair, pushed far out from the table so as to lounge in their privacy, she draped her index finger pensively beneath her lip, looking through Zenahriel as if he were a ghost.  They were to wait in the supping hall, laid out grandly in anticipation of the summit, with so many sets of cutlery that in the house of a vampyre could only be called ironic.  The sun was still setting, orange and purple hues streaking through the opaquely curtained windows, and still yet a few minutes too early for the night queen to rise in the safe bask of dusk. When the door creaked open, Rou's head swiveled, expecting the Gabriela.  Her breath appeared to have held a brief moment, but resumed at the sight of her ward, in all due diligence and propriety, ferrying glasses and a deep green bottle of wine.  The An'She's expression wrinkled, unable to hide a distasteful sneer, still in the private company of but Zenahriel and an underling.  "Is that the house vintage?" she asked, dangling an inquisitive finger towards the bottle, to which she received an affirmative nod, "None for me.  Something stronger; scotch, if you have it."  Rou had a long-running disgust for Orisian wine, certainly tainted by its presence in unfavorable situations, and scoffed at the thought.  Sparing a glance towards Zenahriel, he was unimpressed with her candor.  "Please," Rou added sharply to the ward, hoping to assuage the High Lord's displeasure, "Thank you."  She was going to need something strong if she was to get through the trial ahead. Rou had dressed in her exotic finery, the bright crimson tunic that was a modest comparison to her rather scandalous outfits, containing most of her bust and distracting from it with finely-embroidered hems.  A royal blue skirt was wrapped starting high above her hips, a thin line of the copper skin of her midriff bordered between the colors, and swept from the floor and over her shoulder, draping on the ground like a long cape, which was currently dressed over the arm of the chair.  She'd worn her hair half-up, collecting her hair into a small bun that sat at the back of the crown of her head, and soft curls flowed down her shoulders and spine.  Rou's face was artistically devised, edges touched up from the night prior, for she had slept in it... as well as she could, anyway, under an enemy's roof.  Two pieces of the ensemble were not her own, however: a sheer black lace glove, upon her right hand and ending at the wrist, covering up the indented twin incisor scars, and a black velvet choker, a tear-shaped diamond hanging from its center-- necessities imposed by Rafael, in lieu of tradition. When the door opened again, Rou first glanced to the window, the sun having sunk well beneath the depths of the horizon.  As Zenahriel had pushed himself back from his chair to stand, Rou hesitated but a moment, then did the same.  She paid the queen the briefest look as she entered, before placing her gloved hand to her chest, and sinking her chin in a bow of her head.  So far, so good. Silence followed, as Rou made no pleasantries whilst the queen took her opposite seat across the long supping table; she was not the scheming politician, come to ply her with brown-nosing flights of fancy in order to curry her favor, so she said nothing.  The matter at hand would be less impactful, should she have wasted time, allowing the queen to build further walls of suspicion; it would be hard enough to break through the ones that already stood in her way.  Instead, she let the Queen and Zenahriel begin-- closer friends, better tidings.
    • Vito stood at the entrance of the ship eagerly awaiting the outsiders, one of his favorite parts of his job was greeting the strange and random people that came to the small settlement. Encounters were a blessing, one he firmly appreciated. It wasn’t long till a young dwarven girl approached the ship, a large smile on her face. He looked around, examining the kobolds expressions. None looked hostile, thankfully she was tall enough not to be mistaken for a gnome. Something that has unfortunately happened in the past. Regardless, her bubbly nature pushed all of Vito’s worries away. ‘Been a long time since I’ve seen a dwarf, at least one not overly intoxicated.’ “Wendolyn, lovely name. And Rune Hammer? Sounds like an honorable title, you’ll have to teach me its meaning at some point. We’re just waiting for three others, then I can begin the meeting.” It wasn’t long till he was approached by what he thought was a well decorated kobold, in the confusion he almost didn’t realize it was more human in personality. Well, its soul was human, but body was draconic. Tho greatly confused, he ignored his own thoughts. The draconic mans voice full of joy and huffing away, he greeted the two.  “Welcome, Dr. Ouros Lugoff. Glad to see someone of scientific prowess, I can assure you there will be plenty of fun and discover ahead. I have my dragon upstairs on top deck, I’m sure you two will have fun conversations.” ‘Hmm, I’ll need to keep track of this dragonic one after this expedition. He’ll be useful for future familiar projects.’  The third to join was a human, or at least looked human. The woman even from a distance had noticeable burn marks that seemed rather severe. But Vito had little care for such things, he fared no better underneath his armor which hid his war wounds. ‘Holly the Farmer, nice and simple. I like it.’ “Welcome aboard Holly, one more person and we’ll begin this meeting. Based on looks, I’d say this man here is our last one.” The last one to arrive was a tall man with white hair, he quickly greeted everyone before giving his name.  ‘He lies.’ ‘I’m aware of that.’ When you've been a raider your whole life, over a year of experience in the heavy drug trafficking business and your partner in crime is a master of forgery you learn to pick up on lies quickly. It’s something that has saved the raiders life on multiple occasions. But Vito didn’t care much, people had many reasons to hide their true name. Some good, others bad. With everyone ready, he began the meeting. “Okay, so you all know why you are here. We’re going to a valley east of here, which has been named the Valley of Elemental Stone. Reason for its name is fairly obvious, LOTS of elemental stone which has made the terrain very anomalous. We will be going to research the geography of this valley, this will be a roughly two day trip. From what we know the fauna is relatively tame and not too dangerous, but it’s recommended you still keep your distance if you can. Little is known about the flora, so be wary. It’s the terrain that’ll get you, one minute you’ll be walking on mud then it’ll water. Be cautious, always watch your footing. That’s it for safety.” Vito took a brief pause to catch his breath.  “First floor starting from the bottom of the ship is just storage, nothing special. Second floor is crafting facilities and canteen, you’re free to use them at any point. Third floor is the cabins, this is where you can store your gear and rest. Top deck is where I’ll be situated, controls and captains cabin is there. Feel free to relax up there and enjoy the view, Aeris always loves a good conversation.” Vito pulled out his logs and began flicking through the pages. “Wendolyn, your room number is 15. Dr Ouros, room 22. Holly, room 34. Jonathan, room 45. Any issues or questions then come to top deck and speak to me, there are also two kraul guards by every door and entrance so don’t be afraid to request their help. We’ll be leaving in 20 minutes, so get comfortable.” Vito teleported to the top deck and entered the control room, he gave everything another double check and prepared the engines. He looked out to the deck to see Aeris still talking to the kobold, rolling his eyes at the talkative summon. Starting the engines, there was a lovely roar as the ship vibrated. With everyone on board and final preparation complete, he shut all external doors and hatches and began to gain altitude. The ship raised higher and higher, the city and trees merging into one blur, once high enough he began acceleration. The group was now officially on the move. Vito pulled out the speaker and began announcements.  “Good morning to all crew on board, this is your captain.  We’ll be arriving at our destination in roughly one hour, the expected expedition time is two days and today's dinner choice is fire opal stew or tusken salamander kebab. Dessert will be a mixed fruit bowl, all source from the local forest, or moss goat cheese cake. Thank you all and work safe.” Leaving his co-pilot in charge for a while, Vito went out to the top deck and observed the Taen scenery as it flew by.
    • Two men twice his size and probably half his age stood before him and the look on Liam's face was panicked. He continued to hold out his left hand, palm out as if trying to calm a pair of braying beasts. His sword was held behind him in an expected position except that the iron blade was broken and what was left of it appeared old and rusted. The two men grew more confident as they waved their torches at him, forcing him to stumble back. They howled at his nervous whimpers and then one of them stepped forward, finally deciding to end their game. "Not all you were told to be," the brute said with a grin as he pulled out a long knife with a wicked looking blade. Liam's panicked expression turned to one of genuine confusion as the man spoke with some sort of familiarity. That man raised his torch to strike but as he did Liam's eyes glanced to the flame and then quickly turned his outstretched hand and snapped his fingers. There was a loud pop like the cracking of burning wood and a sudden flare of light. The man felt the increased heat on the back of his head and immediately dropped the torch so he could swat at the perceived threat but spun around when he heard his companion screaming. The torch he had been holding had erupted behind him and burned his companion's face, causing him to fall to his knees and rub his eyes in a desperate attempt to regain his vision. The brute immediately turned his attention back to the cowering old man but Liam was already striking. The big brute didn't have a chance to respond when Liam charged him, gut-checking him with his left shoulder. The unexpected strike knocked the wind out of him but he still managed to get his left hand up to try to stab the mercenary with his knife. With a guttural howl like that of a young soldier trying to brave his way through his first kill, Liam stabbed the man in the stomach with his broken blade. The man's eyes bulged and his knife missed the mercenary but he managed to keep a grip on it. That would have been well and fine if the man had been able to get away from the crazed mercenary but Liam kept howling and pushing the man back, all the while slamming his broken blade into the brute's gut and side over and over. The other man was at last regaining some of his vision. At first all he could hear was Liam's wild howl and the dying groans of his comrade but then his friend's groaning faded away and all he could hear was Liam's low growl and another sound like a wet slapping. Dark shadows and outlines came to the man first as he struggled to his knees. The old mercenary was saddling his companion's corpse, still stabbing at it as if he were looking for some sort of treasure in his intestines. When he at last made to his feet and stumbled forward, the man's vision returned to him. Liam was no longer straddling the corpse of his victim but was standing a mere five feet away from him, his sword held behind him and his left hand outstretched before him in the same posture he had held before. The man looked down at the burned out torches and then back up at Liam. This was not a panicked old man but rather a trained and true veteran of countless conflicts just like this one. And now, covered in the blood and gore of his fallen companion, the cultist thought he looked more like a monster than a man "Now hold on," he said softly, patting his hands in the air. "We can tal-" The look on Liam's face stopped the man. He hadn't been struck even once and yet he looked like he was in terrible pain. It also looked like that pain was making him angry and the cultist thought it best not to provoke him with a false offer of peace. "We're gonna' talk alright, boy," Liam said between gritted teeth. "Or at least you're going to. And if you don't, I'm going to rip out your tongue so you at least have a reason." His voice was like a low growl as if he were having a difficult time controlling himself. He couldn't explain the sudden burning pain in the back of his neck or this overwhelming desire to bask in the warmth of this man's blood. Although he certainly enjoyed the thrill of a fight, Liam had never been a bloodthirsty warrior like some he knew. But now he found himself blinded by a rage he has not felt since he was a youth. He glanced back at the man he had practically mutilated. He had not killed with that sort of passion since his first time when he had watched his mother at last succumb to his father's frequent beatings. That glance back proved almost fatal because when he looked back up, the man across from him was throwing his knife. From that distance, a normal soldier would have been too close to dodge and only heavy armor would prevent the fine blade from piercing. Acting on instinct, Liam curled his fingers into his palm and threw his hand to the side. As if caught by some invisible force, the dagger followed and stuck to the ground. The cultist didn't seem surprised, however as he had already began his charge when he threw the knife. The brute tackled Liam to the ground and immediately secured his right arm to stop from ending up like his friend. The mercenary began thrashing about beneath the man's bulk and even tried to knee him in the groin a few times but the cultist was no novice and kept squirming away to minimize Liam's strikes. Pinning Liam to the ground with a strength that exceeded his impressive bulk, the man managed to at last obtain a full mount. He grabbed Liam's right arm, accepting a few left strikes to the head and side as a result and tried to rip the sword out of his hand. Liam took in a deep breath and then wrapped his left arm around the brute's head. The cultist tensed, preparing for Liam to try to roll him over or something equally futile but instead the mercenary pulled him down. Not expecting the maneuver, the cultist slipped a little as he tried to seize Liam's right wrist. Then suddenly the mercenary wasn't pulling on his head anymore and when he realized what was happening, it was too late. So focused on keeping his sword arm pinned, he didn't see Liam bring his left arm up so he could transfer his sword from right to left. The brute started getting up to re-secure his full mount but Liam's left arm came down hard and stabbed him in the shoulder with his broken blade. The cultist yowled in pain and flung himself off of the mercenary, remembering how he had stabbed his companion over and over in a flurry. That didn't happen this time as Liam let the man roll away and then got back to his feet. He'd rather fight this brute toe to toe than on the ground where the larger man would surely have the physical advantage. The cultist hissed at the pain as he got to his feet, giving Liam time to check on his own companions. Hain seemed to be handling himself well, a testament to what happens when you give a youth such great power. Then he saw Yeul and seemed confused by the appearance of her strange weapons. "Keep one of 'em alive, would ya'?" Liam called out to Yeul, eyeing those she had felled, He had hoped he cowed his own opponent with his unintentional display of brutality but like those who surrounded Hain, he only looked angry. "And give Hain some back-up." Liam couldn't see the wound from the crossbow bolt, but he saw the young man twist from the impact and knew he had been struck. In the eerie glow of Hain's light, Liam glanced the archer but knew he was too far away to do much of anything and so he focused squarely on the man in front of him. The cultist scowled but Liam smirked. The two men circled each other slowly and as they did, Liam removed his cloak. He had one more knife left in there and though it didn't match the quality of the one used by the cultist, it was actually made for throwing. The mercenary whipped his cloak to the side, drawing the cultist's gaze for moment and then threw the knife. The man winced but needn't worry as the knife had not been aimed for him. As they circled each other, Liam had put himself in better vantage of the crossbowmen who had struck Hain. The knife soared at the archer but from this distance, it couldn't possibly do any damage. Still, it distracted Liam's opponent and he hoped that it might distract the archer enough fro his companions to strike him down. With no time to witness his handiwork, Liam charged at the cultist in front of him. The larger man smiled as he thought he had the mercenary's style figured out. He had a few tricks here and there but he was not as dangerous as their leader had lead them to believe. He would make short work of this fool and the ritual would have to do with one less sacrifice.     Vryn watched the fight unfold from a safe distance. Roh was beside him, smiling at the pleased look on his master's face. They watched a mirror that showed them all that Roh's familiar could see. This sort of remote viewing was difficult and it didn't offer them any sound but the party was close enough to them that Roh was able to easily maintain the connection. His primary concern was the young boy and his lightning. At least the Tiefling was a mage, something that Vryn was familiar with and could prepare for even if she was powerful in her own right. But this Hain had to hold himself back or be taken over by this entity inside of him. That meant that if Vryn's plan worked, the boy would be forced to either run away or unleash the elemental enough to save him and Vryn found himself hoping he'd choose to run. Focusing on Yeul, the cult leader wondered if he could get inside of her mind the way he did some of his other members. Hain was already possessed, more or less and Vryn wouldn't dare trifle in a territory already claimed by an elemental. As an Outsider, Vryn had to quickly learn that even things that were familiar to him from his home world could be drastically different and more dangerous here. But Yeul... "When they arrive here, Roh," Vryn said confidently. "I want you on the demon bitch. Weaken her will enough that I can get inside her mind. She will be of exceptional use once the mercenary is turned."   The cat with glowing eyes trotted away from the scene with Hain and made its way to the mercenary who was currently engaged with the two brutes he had been specifically paired with, It climbed a tree and perched on the lowest branch, watching with an intelligence that belied its animal form.   Vryn watched Liam's fight even more intently than he did the others. His two companions would pose a problem if left unchecked but it was the mercenary that Vryn truly wanted. The pain in his neck was likely already getting to him and soon the distant screaming would begin in his head. He smiled when Liam charged the larger man. He had a feeling that he knew what was coming next and cackled excitedly when he was proven right. The bulky cultist had braced himself for the mercenary's charge but Liam had stopped short at the last moment. If he had been carrying a normal sword, he would already be in striking distance but the cultist had already clocked the broken blade's reach. So when Liam dropped to one knee and slashed the sword at his shin, he was confused by the burning pain that shot up his leg. He immediately fell to the side, his left no longer supporting him and before he had a chance to react, he was looking down the length of ghostly looking blade, pulsing with an energy insensible to the Arcane. "Prepare the mages," Vryn said with a grin. "And pull back the remaining Initiated. Commence the ritual and be prepared for the final summoning. Soon we shall know Paradise."
    • Hydra's Haven, such a fitting name for the cataclysmic maw. He could recall memories of people fleeing from the beast years ago, as clear as day, but never would have guessed that it's grave would become home to so many people. Not that he was one to talk, a former hero turned nomad, a traveler amongst worlds, whom traveled here originally by accident. Some might say he was washed up, but he liked to think of it as taking a break. He'd returned to Taen to stay a while this time, maybe even finally build his treehouse and hang around. Who knew, surely not the fool who sprawled across the ground like a bum.   Smoke forced his left eye shut as Joshua exhaled, peering at his watch to check the time. It was almost time to get the expedition under way, and dreading another ride on one of those death balloons, Josh took another hefty drag off of his cigarette before climbing onto his feet. He could see the group gathering, preparing for departure, and quickly filed in behind some kind of lizard person.   He didn't say a word, or even shoot a glance around. He was here to see the valley like everyone else. Truthfully, excitement stirred inside him, although you couldn't tell by looking at his stern face. His hair was butched, white, and wirey. His face was that of a soldier, and his wardrobe was... Well, rather pathetic, befitting a beggar at best. Still, he settled in and greeted everyone with a humble nod after getting cozy. A smile slid across his face as he lied to everyone, providing them with a false name.  "Ouros, Wendolyn, and ummm... Farmer? How's it hanging? Jonathan Grandin. Pleased to meet you."  He introduced himself cheerfully, saluting everyone lightheartedly with his pointer and middle fingers pressed together.
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