Too keep make the game more manageable I've decide to use a tripcode, based on
>>5890388 addvice.
>>5891979Nope, the age has already been decided, we are a 27 year old male going under the name valerian.
"Well met, friend," the brown-haired human male greets you as he takes a sip from his tankard. His eyes seem friendly, and there's a warmth to his smile.
"I don't think I've seen you around here before," he continues, curiosity in his voice. "New to the frontier, are you?"
"Yes, I've just arrived," I extend my hand, "Drew Oryx!" His grip is powerful, the calloused hands of a man accustomed to hard labor. "So what brings you to this forgotten edge of the world? Are you here to chart the untraversed lands to the north, seeking adventure, or perhaps running away or starting over?" He narrows his eyes, awaiting my response. "Starting over," I admit, technically not a lie. "Valerian," I add. "What? Oh, that's your name." Drew scrutinizes me. "A human, and a man of humble beginnings, with that kind of name," he says, momentarily puzzled before realizing it's not worth fretting over. "But not even the least strange thing about you, or anyone else in this town."
As we speak, the tavern fills with patrons seeking post-dinner drinks. About 30 people, the majority of the town, cast glances my way, making the arrival of a stranger a silent spectacle. Drew notices the attention and beckons one of Avina's boys for a drink, saying, "Where are my manners? Here, let me get us a drink." While I consider his building project, I inquire further about his occupation. "What is it that you do here? Are you a trader or a farmer?" Drew pauses from his drink, saying, "No, no. I've hated farming—all that walking, sowing, and worrying about harvest timings. That's why I asked the mayor for land about ten miles north, where the fields yield to mountains. I've got myself a quarry, a few good acres on an unpaved route. I mine and haul the goods by myself when it runs out."
When asked if he sells ores, Drew pulls out a sturdy knife. "I turn them into iron and tools. The raw ores a simple man can haul won't be enough to eke out a living. You need more men, but turning them into quality blades and tools, that makes all the difference. Right now, I'm creating a blacksmith shop. It'll give that damn Delruth some competition," he mutters, complaining about the prices Delruth charges. "A ducat for a simple hammer?" he scoffs. "Well, if all goes well, I'll probably be coming by your shop and getting something soon," I say to Drew.
However, his expression turns somber. "I've run into some trouble trying to open up the shop—resource trouble." He says, his eyes focused on his drink.
