Mosue

In the shade of a great tree, a dark elf's crimson eyes read over the newspaper, a smirk slowly spreading across his face. "Will people call this fake news?" he'd ask to no one in particular.

Name, Eraynion Taloha Age, 159 Ethnicity, Dark Elf Profession, Tinker [IGN:] Mosue [Timezone:] Central [Group:] Warhawkes

I think that Bosses would be a cool addition, however, making it so that only High Leveled Hunters can kill them would be limiting. Why not have it so that High Leveled Hunters could find the bosses, yet need a party of people to take it down? This would lead to people hiring hunters to take down Big Game.

I agree. Every persona, even if they haven't grinded on them, will be granted the 150,000 xp? C'mon son.

You will be contacted in game shortly.

Eraynion Taloha waded through the eerily calm waters on his personal canoe. His burgundy red eyes squinted at the rolling mists surrounding him. Where was he? The simple question filled him with anxiety. What if he couldn’t return home? Would the others merely forget he ever existed? His oar rose and lowered with each stroke, propelling him forward, disturbing the still water with each dip. Thunk. Confused, Eraynion’s eyes snapped to the right. His oar had hit something solid. But how? Nothing should be all the way out here. The mist began to lighten, revealing what he had hit: there a stone pillar rose far above him towards the sky. An albino hawk sat atop the pillar, staring down at Eraynion with its equally as red eyes. Eraynion froze. He had seen this hawk before, in dreams of the past. “Maybe I’m just hallucinating,” said the dark elf under a breath. The white hawk squaked, opened its wings and flapped them once; it then dove towards Eraynion, forcing him to duck. The hawk circled around Eraynion for a few moments before flying into the fog. Eraynion hurriedly oared after the bird. As he paddled, the mist continued to clear. It became evident that the pillar he had bumped into wasn’t the only one here. Eraynion stopped rowing, his eyes widening. With the mist finally cleared the true nature of this location was revealed. He could see rocks that towered above him, pillars that pierced the clouds. He could hear the tweets of birds, the croaks of frogs, and the distinct chirp of Bokolo. Eraynion swiftly rowed toward what he could see was an entrance into the island. The tip of his canoe tapped against the island’s stone, reverberating through the canoe’s wood and Earynion’s bones. Chills ran down his spine. He stood up, careful not to lose his balance on his little boat, and reached up to grab a hold of the gaping cavern ledge. He pulled himself up and over. A breeze flowed over him, ruffling his mohawk. Eraynion could feel his heart drum against his chest as he moved forward. After leaving the cavern entrance, his eyes dilated against the sunlight, partially blocked by the island’s main spire. Excitement filled him. He had finally found… a place to live.

Blub, the Olog with dwarfism, rides around on his brother Jihb's back shouting "WUHBOLIONNNNN!"

Eraynion sat around the campfire, playing on his bongos. "No kings, only Malin," he'd mutter.

Twas a cold night at the Warhawke keep, and the Chieftain Eraynion was just finishing up a construction in his workshop. Yawning, he left his creation on the table and set forth for fresh air. High above him hung the milky-white moon, which illuminated the courtyard. As Eraynion went to check the gate out of habit, he noticed a figure leaning against the stable fence. “Dakath?” he’d call out, approaching his fellow Warhawke. “Ah, Chieftain, I was just…” His voice was fatigued and his eyes were drooping. Eraynion looked past Dakath at what laid within the stables. A three foot tall egg, surrounded by hay, sat snuggly within. “It should hatch soon, Chieftain, right?” asked Dakath. “Hmm…” hummed Eraynion. Like clockwork, the egg began to shake side to side. Dakath, noticing that his leader’s eyes had widened, quickly turned around. “Sir!” excitedly said Dakath. “I see it, I see it,” replied Eraynion. The two dark elves climbed over the fence and squatted by the shivering egg. It began to crack; after a moment, an orange beak poked from the shell, and eventually, after breaking up more of its organic prison, the baby Bokolo freed its head. With a happy chirp its wings expanded, splattering the remains of the egg all over the stable. Eraynion’s eyes sparkled at the baby Bokolo; it was twice the size of a chicken, and had golden feathers covering its body. Instead of hopping over to Eraynion, it walked up to Dakath and began to hop up and down in place. “What should we name it?” asked Dakath, letting the Bok Bok jump into his arms. With a soft sigh Eraynion said, “It seems that is your responsibility now.” Dakath paused, his eyebrows crinkling. He thought long about what to name the Bok Bok. Then it hit like a ton of boulders— he said with a smile, “Lareh’li!” “Lareh’li?” asked Eraynion, head tilting. “So Larry?” finally said Eraynion, garnering a raised eyebrow from Dakath. “Uh… sure, Chief,” replied Dakath. “Bok Bok’s require a lot of attention… they’re like toddlers,” explained Eraynion as the baby Bokolo chirped. Dakath nodded, slightly confused. He then said, “I’ll take care of him to my best ability, sir.” And so, the adventures of Larry and Dakath had begun.