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The vicious waterworld of Ötstuxmon ("The Cyclopean Plane") boasts only one island. Brutally devoid of natural life, Elifa Adapi, "The Island of Trotting", is coated in rolling dead hills known as Bostu Usnar, "The Hill of Juices". Undead, rotty juices, maybe, because no plant life can grow here. Undead animals thrash through the brown underbrush mindlessly. Monsters make their homes here, unable to live in the depths of the ocean. As a result the Legends are incredible and bizarre, with hundreds of monsters living together in complete harmony. Ötstuxmon is the only world I've ever seen that has no history of violence whatsoever. Makes you think, doesn't it?Not me. I don't think at all when I make my Human Outsider. Who's this random jackass? Who cares? Let's kill some shit, and more importantly, let's die in a horrible way![Vanod Openedfires, Human Outsider][Professional Spearman, Competent Ambusher, Skilled Swimmer, Novice Observer, Novice Fighter, Adequate Wrestler, Skilled Dodger]{He is incredibly muscular. His greasy hair is extremely long. He has a low voice. His ears have large hanging lobes. His slightly hooked nose is quite long. His slightly large-irised pale blue eyes are sunken. His short head is narrow. He has a deeply recessed chin. His lips are very thin. His hair is golden yellow. His skin is cinnamon.}Vanod comes into being on The Hill of Juices, beneath the massive volcanic spire that rises from the bitter oceans- the only piece of land that breaks the surface of water in this realm. It also happens to be a place of extreme evil.But it's the only home he knows.---So I'm slightly terrified, I admit it. I don't think I've ever been in a situation so... grim before. It's completely metal and I love it. I'm a naked muscular man with long flowing golden hair, a spear in one hand and a dagger in another, the only one of my kind, on a volcanic mountain of evil which is the only land in the entire world. As a result, every single monster in the world lives on this tiny island, and anything that isn't a monster is an undead abomination. If that's not badass I don't know what is.At first I kind of puttered around. A couple of undead harpies tried to come at me (bro) and I skewered them on my primitive thangs. Whateva. Easy peasy. I'm a naked rock god hanging out on a volcano. What are you? A couple of picked-over chickens? Pssssh, please, grrrl. (Little would I know that later on I'd run into a huge chicken. Such is life on THE ISLAND OF TROTTING)Anyway, after kicking a weasel skeleton down a cliff, I decided to head to the ocean to hunt. I can't butcher undead, and I figure the ocean is the only place to find still-meaty creatures to eat.On my way over there I notice something. More like, "somethings". Over 60 "somethings". And I notice they're in a very dense rectangle around me. At first they kind of look like dead trees too. But the text box says otherwise.Trolls. I've never ever seen something like this in all my years of playing the game. Maybe I just haven't been playing it right till now?I run like hell for the least concentrated side I can find, though I definitely don't have high hopes. I'll be surrounded by at least ten trolls just on the one side. But I really don't have a choice.Somehow, SOMEHOW, I manage to squirm awkwardly through their line. One troll swings at me, I counter attack with a stab in the arm.Several begin to punch violently at me, I stab another in the gut, and then... I'm free from the line.I run as fast as I can to the nearby murky pool, hoping I can jump in and sneak out again... when I notice I'm cut off by a troupe of zombie rhesus macaques.And this just flings the trolls into a rage. They barrel towards the monkeys and completely forget about me. I slip off to the north and hide behind a tree. Suckers.I get down to the beach, butcher a beached shark due to a hilarious glitch where they fling themselves on land to try and eat me and then suffocate sadly, and I chow down. Unfortunately since I can't actually carry anything outside of what I can grasp, I have to carry the meat around in one clenched fist and my spear in the other. Oh well. No one ever said it'd be a clean existence. While my dagger is a valuable commodity, I'd rather have a fistful of meat to gnaw on as I traverse the island instead. I say goodbye to my knife and never look back.Now that I'm well fed on greasy shark pizza, I head back inland towards a shrine. I'd never seen them before, so I was really curious about what I'd find inside.Turns out this is the hangout for all of the bronze colossi that ever spawned (well, some of them at least), hanging out on the basalt cliff faces (some tiles actually grew moss! Very evocative) and staring bleakly out at a vile, ugly world.Actually, they probably really like their island. No war or loss, just lots of chillaxing, and a big badass volcano to keep them warm. Maybe Vanod will turn into a vampire or something awesome like that and he can live in harmony with them too.I leave them to their blank staring, because I really don't want to have my head bowled down the side of the cliff. I have a dangerous feeling that there are far more than 5 bronze colossi here, so of course I just barrel in. I'm a dumb upright ape with a pointy stick, what do you want from me? Vanod no understand!(I just found out that Vanod means "Stranger" in human. So fitting for this world.)... Unfortunately there is no "in". The colossi just hang out on a well-paved basalt cliffside doing nothing. Welp, seeya.I just kind of head off again, this time to the northeast to a different shrine. Maybe this next one will have zombie chickens or something. Unfortunately I was closer to the truth than I could have imagined.Another basalt temple rises from the cliffside, coated with even more moss. In the center of it stands only one creature.I don't think I've ever seen hill titans before in any game (just read about them in legends), so I guess I was expecting a giant or similar. Something kind of humanoid. Instead I getA giant purple bug-chicken. Okay.I try to make him seem a little more imposing in this drawing:As majestic as the sight is, Vanod is no artist. He lacks our more developed sense of beauty. To him, he sees a feral beast waiting to be tamed by his spear. Except less dirty sounding. Get your mind out of the refuse stockpile.The question now is... do I have a chance? Fuck it, let's just dive in. What have we got to lose? Vanod lunges forward.to be continued?